‘It’s a jungle out there’.

The jungle is blasted!

A desert of nakedness,

Dry old words,

Quakes of impending

Situations that come

And go.

 

The only transmission

Is the here and now!

Amongst the thorns

Of mental woe,

Rattling tales.

 

Whose bites

Are empty of

Lasting venom.

Kundalini Geyser.

She plays hide and seek.

Ultimate Mater,

Of course her matrix.

 

Exploding from first base.

A giga geyser to infinity,

Ebbing to tantalizing fondles.

Kriyas and crying,

Laughing and frying.

 

She glares and dares

Us to Omebase.

 

Om Kali Ma!

Everything On Top.

On the island of confusion

I sit and smoke my pipe.

As the diamonds scatter

Here worthless.

 

Sands of lifetimes

Layered loves and hates.

Haunting ice cream,

Red dripping strawberry

Juice, another sticky mess.

 

Seeking a cherry.

 

Sea lions rejoice

Freedom from nets.

 

Humanity continues,

Catching trinkets.

Tired baubles

On domesticated trees.

Duality Coin

1_77

 

Mask of us, egoic actor,

Approval and disapproval,

Control and chaos,

Safety and danger.

Separation and Oneness,

We wish them all.

 

Life a duality coin.

A British penny,

Queen bee/self jailer

Menteemots, inescapable

Birth rites.

 

Labels that gag us

A narrow perceiving.

 

All

On the white board

Of Awareness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vacant.

Zen in the pen.

Black is orange,

Orange is black.

 

The two fishes

Dance in each

Other’s eyes.

 

The katana

Lies in the

Cold rock yet

To be folded.

 

Seeking blood

To become it’s

Own nemesis.

 

The stainless steel

Toilet is vacant.

Retort.

Unrealized relations

Just doin the do

Like Betty Boo.

 

Hiding B.O.

Clenching farts

Dieing little by little.

 

Plaque like cheese.

 

Practicing quips for

The next funeral.

 

Midland Madness.

Half dealt deals.

A ‘Sacred’ circle

Toothless, whose

Stones now lie

In a stream.

Vandalism 17th Century

Stylie .

 

Witch hunting

Madmen following

Dark orders.

Forebears of Mill

Owners and landlords

Of leaky nail maker

Hovels.

 

To 70’s estates

Of no hope

Breeding snorting

Grandchildren.

 

Golden souls

Enmeshed in

Lies and programming.

Mistakes.

Mistakes are all around!

Five times I checked

That post that won’t edit.

 

And still the words

Are the wrong way

Round!

 

Feck!

 

Hey we’re all square

Pegs squeezing through

This looney tunes

Hole called Life.

 

I melt to others’

Mistakes, as I am

Them, as vulnerable.

 

Just another person.

Playing and stumbling

At being grown up.

 

Trying to be

Our best whilst

It’s all geared

To decay.