that creepy crawly fear, that latent anxiety, that horrible item in the back of one's mind

i wear my hat on my head,
thinking the suns out
even inside...
what have we become?
Monsters in the dark!

-julian

to wither:
a lack of water,
where once great magnificence
rooted in the earth
lay splendid in the sun.
a pitiful aspect across /
hot concrete terrain.

a lack of color
that used to exist before.
not yet past,
to regain,
through care
a repose,
of what
was once there.

to touch:
adjudicate effect
from cause.
dangerous, warm, friendly,
bridging the horrible distance
between us.
calm in the calamity
of fragile topology.

thought in all manner
of action and inaction,
to care

to play

a pageant
from the bloody
conscious brain.

do not touch the
bridge controls.
away at nap,
be back later.

Vision Quest / oil / canvas / 31.5 x 30.5 inches / 600.00

la tierra alta / oil / canvas / 9.5 x 12.5 inches / 100.00

wondrous work

you are like a lamp
sometimes the only
lonely glowy lighting rooms,
you are starry,
imagining some dreams.

little dude

if I was a tiny guy
My iMac would be
A movie screen,
Id go like real big
Sound loud
And like wow wow.

post-mortem

semi-luxury
garbage bag
strictly risky business
always gucci
always right
born & forgotten
gaming all this life.

Call to Bed

bite this
forever more
my pinky swear
on the hour dear
before we arrive
to paradise.

when we evolve
through strategy,
cunning while
guile fearless &
genetic tough.

i heart you
tight, rough my finger
weep, sipping pleasant
sups of love
inside my cup
a perfect amount
of good times.

together close
doubly warmer
either alive or dead
indifferent in
the cuddle...

Late Night Tasty

oh yeah.
blurry eyeball,
extra cookie!

word games

catastrophic failure control
over the module…
coincidental music appreciation,
in the morning…
grafted bonus intelligence
must be
your lucky day….
triangulate total perfect function
beautiful weather, beautiful weather,
letter by sincerely
total uncertainty
collapsing record player
spinning, humming hiss hacking repast
so much loving
so much loving
so much hi’ing hellohappy’ing
burning burning burning.

The Rise and Fall of Succesful Species

 PART 1

imagine no moment after, so impossible.
awareness means reception of past time / future activity.
present tense means knowing occurence.
existence means to be.

death be not knowing
death's design requires only absence
impossible for presence
totally separate from feeling.

freedom means the opposite,
freedom or nothing
no between, which means distraction,
success means freedom
liberty from death.

only you and i know the secret
to never dying,
only you and i can whisper
this story,
only you and i know our purpose
one day chanting
immortal succession!

footnote:
we must have it everyone.
we must have it.
without we are nothing
without we struggle
without it we hide behind things like our mighty constructions.
but we know what is coming
what it means to be
forever cherishing this little moment sipping, sipping
always wanting more
we can quench our thirsty worry
don't forget the goal
don't give up
amen amen amen amen.


PART 2

gawl crawling like gods on starry waves
we made it! we did it! we figured our own mighty code
embracing the brilliance of our biology.
and with success we find ourselves
masters of the near domain - still reaching
outward ascending matter riding dust in elements
of metal. a choo.

still, still
we are animal
we are beast(s).

PART 3

basic complex mind or matter
am i only this because i am?
do i really matter after
everything? reaching
collected consciousness.

finally totally E M B E D D E D,
yet lusting somehow
in this matter simulation.

wondering and wandering nowhere
establishing / rising / falling
coalescing
warring
farring
trading
caring
winning losing

being!
being.

IV

Nothing infinite was fortold...
Once upon a telling.
Nothing greater than the creator.

Witnesses only,
A
Cosmos cold,
All Energy
Collected in the center
& outside we watch in the dark,
Now just one thing.

In an instant literal it is over.
A new universe is born
for someone else's turn.


Epilogue:

The point of existence means seeing the true end.
To see the final scene.
To close the chapter in eternity.

Anything else is small potatoes,
Anything else is games of chance
On a stupid round table.

isolation

Nobody knows,
what it sounds like,
outside, the
karaoke room.

human warmth
best touch

whispered dreams comes
calming vibes of supple intensity.

from the jewelry box

the pearl diver
and those beads
greatly hanging
from this long neck, by a woven string to hold
have endured hard times
bringing those jewels
to you.

they hold the key to vitalious victory,
they hold time,
holding like a charmed heart
that heats hot
laying now on a heavy
chest, lowly
rumbling
atomically.

french pastry / oil / canvas / 21.75 x 20 inches / 250.00

Season's Greetings / oil / canvas / 30 x 30.5 inches / 300.00

A.I. Overlords

no christmas, no go,
hot brandy sounds
gharly curly crudely cards
sumptuous deliverance
from the English language.

idyllic grazing

fevers pick the winners
courageous, fearless souls
that recognize the potential
of their linear lives.

they look at my lovely
green garden, and
my bevy of eden like
qualities within, and with hold
the truth still,
peace favors truth
above all things, making
care to recognize those
that carry this
heavy thing.

when we 
when we,
win.

dead fly on the swatter
don't brush it off
bait for another fly;
dead flies on the swatter.

dfonts
dbio
bfaf;
dfots

dbots
dfonts
beatem ups
dootle raps
ghoulish gribs
greasy fibs
skinny butts
little nuts
tippy taps
little raps
communal kilns
diligent wins.