Category: AKA

one 

1)

the popped top,
dormant in dream,
singing the cornices
of personal temples,
alters transfigured
between different scenes,
taking with them
some of the senses,
not born to be abandoned,
not proper,
  left to atrophy;
it is revealed they sing,
when they sing in harmony  


2)

composing composing

isnt it rosy

to lift from ground level
to quarters aloft
on the wings of the Will

This day masticates
in a casual way

(its just part of the game)


3)

Betimes the door is open

and @ other times is shut

CRANIAL DIRT

I will not think of you today, Allah,
in a way it seems
   there is
   no need
   if one has
   let thee
   over Take
   ~ Me"(?)

4)

My flayed skin table buckles

lonely beast moans
       and gnashes
       in the night
       as the witching hour is nigh

5)

LAZY EXPERIMENTS
BEFALLEN UPON

I have befriended
furtive stands
and caught
the glint of green
light in the smile
strung to beguile

6)

I am the unwashed screen of potential desire,
there is little left to be rejected

7)

secret skull-splitting prowess

opening way for more delicate hands

Their ashiness accentuates the ancestors

8)

My boyliness and girliness are one
  and hid -

Today i am not black and nil

9)

[RANDOM NOTES:]

one's "personal" web surfing (consisting of): pleasure of the eye,
tawdry (excuse) for a meat display

these Kilmer fotos make us feel sad
→ hopeless youth encaged in youth

((are) all fotografers (are) pervs(?))

Jeffrey Kilmer - perv fotografer; "23% pure"
	"There is a middle ground between the portraits of Edward Weston,
        Diane Arbous, and Nan Goldin - that questions the subject's
        desire to be photographed."

(not all photographers are perv [photographers]:)
     O. Winston Link - trains


10)

BANK SMART: ~ Bank w/ Christ Associates

[Christ Trust]

4 sept

Dogs as exploitation tools white people use to have an excuse to talk to strangers

Lonely Frank

this one time i was walking in center city this really older guy flagged me and stopped to talk. i had a weird feeling when his words seemed to mismatch the way he was holding himself and the way his hands were moving, they just felt very…flat. i didnt heed the fishy feeling right away and walked in anyway; it was a sort of agreement to walk through the door.

it was a nice house, had gentle air about him. i let old boy rub my vessel, and touch it with his mouth and his hands. It was a cool temp in this like swank downstairs and i was standing there, just standing bare he was real nice too, he would ask to do little bitty stuff, puppy stuff and i agreed, though i was not into it not in the slightest. wasnt aroused or anything, just kind of there – like oft i feel when involved in episodes of “conversation”

i noticed the frequency of “relax… relax”, in a sort of bayed tremulous half-whisper, increasing, like a mantra but it began to sound more and more like a silent plea than anything. i mean i could hear the sounds of the word “relax” but my spirit heard it like “please…”

 

I was standing there in a weird haze or fog just from the situation i suppose, and i was stricken by this sensation which i had had no reference for and i dont know what to call it now; maybe “resigned giving”(?)

He was so quietly enthralled, like maybe a kid under a christmas tree with their first present of the morning in their lap, happy, and i guess the feeling was like it was I who was doing something For him, giving something to him – and i was, it was my vessel – that energy, giving to his attention – under my volition. my general feel is, “well this is something i can do/be”

When he offered a glass of water is when i became legitimately, apprehensive, and he was more eagerly asking to touch me in further less puppy ways. thats when i said no and left with no qualms.