Mindblurbs are ghosts of phrases sputtered from temple to template without a thought between. Mindblurbs take over where creativity ends; they are imagined sense.
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a tantrum of thunderous applause
swimmingly serene in satin white snow
eyes and ears cotton
parts dissused and abused, confused and imbued with chaos juice
psychotic asmatic traumatic extatic
feeling good is so subjective
pressure, like fossile fules, like fucked firemen,
freeing flies who feel folded, who fasten forms and who flick firebolts
holiday observations and obsessions
top dogs and dirgible dribbles
blah blah blah—boring tripe, distances like eggshells and broken bombshells
almost standing in the stands, but instead sitting
heat vent hot, magma and mustard… psycho scion and silver thread pylon
streaming selects and sublime serving spoons, sandpaper handsprings and fast
festoons with fallguy feelings
shooting fingernail fuckups, file sized floatsam
accidental clicks and conundrum prints
fast paced, life is, things speed up… days roll past, getting motion sick,
weeks, months, suddenly you can’t remember last year,
though it seems like yesterday, though
you’re still sick with it, though it’s eating you how recent it was.
how did this moment change from a particle into a wave?
ceramic collapse piece, combine and collocate
the best adventures are free, while the best free is adventure
the best is subjective, also subject to tax and tarrif
the subject is best adventurous
subjects are adventure
best is subjected to adventure
adventure is best
yodel strudel, flickwick pigmalion
seven cent singles, pringle can thin
gum and glug glug glug, shivs and shove shooters and salt shakers
levels and liquid lists, litchen and lichenthropic lethargy
lemming lutes and lorax throat lalas
a level below the bottom is where the underworld lives
catch a crockpot crackpot, housewife in handcuffs
santa’s sweeping sandstone slipup, without snow, his boots are slippery on the chimmney
last month was the second to last month, that makes this month the last month
todo lists and shock inducing pipelines personal penpals, pineapple peanut
pickle based biproducts, bipolar hippos, bicuspid hiccups
lamps and urban landscape problems, lighting on the home front
loop through the alcaceltzer foam, fuzzy brain logic compound
drain umbrage, umbrella selector.
a staple on the temple of a skin-tight leopard
cancer of the brain, tumors touching tips of table clothes and tactile trench warfare
great things come to those who grate
graceful tailspins on tadpole birds
iron and scafolding, benches and park fires, lit by flies
holiday madness, miscreant sadness
audio like clockwork
the internet with moving parts, actual pieces, gears, grinding
dream-array design, design by business model,
ponytail playpall, playpen penis scrubber,
goober gobbled gimlet, guzzle the light fantastic
dials and diodes, dodos and dildos
doped up code and isolated nodes
ideals and idiots, idolotry and identity
our forheads fornicate and our warheards warnicate
art and electrofile, photo-felatio
hoodwinked and brood-wrinkled
forehead facts are fleeting and frustrating
some like it warm
some like it mild
some like it and don’t really care
some don’t like it, and their glasses are half empty
some have broken glasses
some like it broken
some like broken glass
some like hot broken glass
...sticky and melting down their bodies like hot wax on a stripper only much more painful
foot tapping tadpole tripping
twiddling thumbs of steel
what leapfrogs don’t know…
Does a little dabble do you?
beats are like bullets, traveling at escape velocity into the “escapism” part
of my brain, eradicating unwanted stress inducing thoughts
all gooey eyed and gaga, going bananas b-a-n-a-n-a-s
(as in that shit is)
water from a disaster scene
relative goodness is like composite bows and arrows bending differently
glue holds things like tape holds things only without the tape part
zealous formica formula
jealous instigation of insinuations, of insanity
little metal knobx are issued ranges to turn, and live their lives in fear of
twisting too far… personification is a passtime of poets… and gods.
love IS learning
booksmart bitches got brainz to spare
lovesmart lushes got lust to spare
spare smart stitches got string to spare
As thoughts meander they are stuck to the roof of your mouth as bats in caves
stick to stalactites or mites or whatever and then they swoop down out of your
cavernous hole into the outside world for anyone to hear, gobbling up little
mosquitoes and in general wrecking havock and running things amok.
beginnings are sometimes dull and lifeless
beginnings are often more adventurous seeming than endings
eaves are sanguine pumpkins
fertility fallout, kinds in crackerjack boxes
wallow in your worst nightmares
gingerly snap the frightened child’s heartstrings
flat head screwdriving like a sideways somersault
going perpendicular to perpetual
flim flam, flat universe theory, gravity soliloquy
assay the assult on assagio
These are the legends that dreams are fraught with.
saturated aardvark, sepiatone snake
hey good cookin’, what ya got lookin’?
The marrow is the tasty part.
great gibbering gobstoppers—a gallon of gluttony!
godfather to the karate kid, got tight blackbelt chaffing
feather slow, little hearts and fingers like fusion
awesome october sunburn, beam blast on the bay side boomtown
I don’t know when I’m hurting myself when I’m drunk.
When I’m drunk, I don’t know when I’m hurting myself.
all the words are undearneath blankets of memory.
Words fight to emerge scathed and unkempt from concentration camps.
playing with myself, need underwear, write soon
a fetching knife makes for sharp witted friends
bland and blank, empty CDs are like emotionless days, your mind a slate grey sky, your brain an expanding bubble of emptiness imposed on a background of white noise.
subtle is a word that slides
waylaid, WAY laid
some turtle days like crawling, like confessing, like conforming
songs are like capital letters
thanks are thinking thistleward
inward toward centers of worlds
universes inside earths insides
turned outsides by thermonuclear
radioactive detonators in dentist chairs
destiny an unmarked car speeding
random thoughts like coconut soup
spelling words with coconuts
fierce winds holding howl contests
spitting sand up onto the shores of
obscure thought infested cities
loud and not proud, ears laid back and dancing on the side of your head
eyes swivel independent,
little flying saucers in pools of the deepest midnight
a cat’s smile is in its purr
I don’t give a shit, fuck you.
The traainwreck of our relationship is getting cleaned up. The tracks are
passable now, carrying strange passengers to and fro like beasts of burdon.
Suddenly a brilliant flash, and the fearsome sky opens up its gaping maw to
spill acidic sick out upon the earth.
I’m a dirling whirvish.
Actions speak louder than words, but action is a loaded word.
Loaded words speak louder than regular words, having, typically, many meanings to speak with.
Clouds are like floating beings from outer space, and when the lightening comes it is their trying to talk to us, their attempt at communication. Yet we see only the burning and death that results, and their messages are lost in the stormy rain.
whole half half
double single single
two one one
you me me
pickle picking pluckies playing poker over pizza
slick electrolysis legs, electrocution observation
orders of magnitude above injection
slack-jawed jaws nose
eggs giving up their yokes
communications like cum
juice dripping in ears and down lips
to rest in the small of your back,
a tornado of information packed in
dna words our eyes wide and lips parted
The drugged man drags a dirge of dirt to dirty town.
lets be honest
lets be honey
lets butter our toast with honest honey
lets become one with honey
lets become one
let honest ones be
letters are honey
letters can be honest
letters are won with honesty
honest letters taste better
hurry up and hurry
slow is for suckers
wot bit is the opposite of wee bit.
Wot you got you got to get it put it in you.
mixed samples are sublime and statistically unstable
headstrong strongmen are stupid and horny
don’t try and stump the tree stump, it’ll stomp your standings
slack-eyed suckerpunch saucers
kitten claws and eye of raventoad
germans and sweeds and hose beasts, oh my!
the thought that counts is a thought in action
actions speak louder than words, and thoughts are even quieter
A belly shaved is a belly burned.
gorilla banana tactics, throw your poop at me
eat the long squishy thing,
shove corn flakes in your ear,
do a dance like a rodent
profundity of the preposterous
profundity is preposterous
all sputtering and stammering, stagnant ocean of dismay
spinning plates of paper with pepper on them, salt too
time to outpour about the breakup:
dour tides inside my insides,
thoughts that shoulder rifles of accusation
sniping at arguments left in the trenches
love is wartime, the atom bomb has dropped
there is nothing left to negotiate
when everything is dead
metaphors are useless clay pigeons
mildly satisfying when they fall, but they can’t satiate you
and they taste like the dirt they’re made of
it is only painful if not natural
to associate breakups with war and death
after all, the word fighting has two meanings
only one of which involves blood and viscera
drifting into an unobservable state,
giving rise to breaths that puncture the insides of our imagination
gooseberry pimples, pickles on face prickles, yellowed irises eye-laced,
licorice liquid, quick like black-stick, tar kick
(is the act of typing a date screwing with my discordian zen?)
felatio [something] smothered thoughts hinder kindred
poems with missing words
brow beating piss-zen focus
eyes like hollow points
bullet forhead forensics
soft soot-lined chimnies filled with cherry-sweeps
ringing sounds, ear bleed bouncing noises
packing slips and skirt slips and postage stamps and playpens
electronics are hollow empty cages for electricity
Anger is an internalized desire externalized by violence.
Rage is caused by supression of externalization of anger.
Hatred is supression of rage and sometimes anger.
Emotions can be thought of as light in the dark corners of your brain.
If light is focused, it can become extremely hot;
therefore it is dangerous to think about the same thing for too long,
especially if that thing is of a high intensity or luminescence.
Meditation is the act of learning to live in the dark, or sometimes of
darkening your brain in order to catch the stray flashes of white thought.
This is like the way neutrinos are detected in dark pools deep under ground.
it is someone’s birthday today.
plasticweed glass flask
morning is a gaswad of fuck
louse on the loose
funny business asside, I’m old and fucked
silence is an echo of madness
footsteps can be ghosts of people, but not people who are ghosts
all hard harrowing horrors have some humility, if not humanity
we bespoke ourselves too soon, thus
incarnate creatures crave the coming of recreation
missing pieces are collected in the bottom of my closet, I have no puzzles,
just their pieces, just these one offs. When I see a puzzle in someone’s
house, I try and sneak it away and take a single piece. I make sure it’s not
an edge piece, I like to make it a surprise for the end.
blue teardrop engulfed in flame, clatter of keys
hum and tick, whir and distant growl
unusual you, universe of unanimity, ugly ulcer undulates
estranged organics take on vibrating roadblocks to rascal pascal roustabouts
savory insatiables, sweets and toothpick picking lickables
some people hate ‘isms, I hate ‘arians, including librarians
grinning evil, goof like golf clubs, bear cubs, gord—out of, as in hard
headed hammerpants hothead heathens cooking in underpants
four and twenty bitches, siting in a pile
curly tails and black noses, tongues dripping bile
trenches of dragon’s teeth and gout infested pirate’s teats
slowly things end, a grappling hook whose fingers grip the edge of reality and
pulling myself up, the fabric tears, reality shifts and when I reach the top,
oh yes, I reach it, when I reach the top it is not the top any longer, it is a
sunken pit into which I’ve climbed. a sunken pit I’ve wasted all my efforts to
slow spears turning over the spit
skulls browning, sizzling brains seeping out around the edges
all screwball and eyeball splinter
opening your brain with a corkscrew
POP goes the we-skull
frantic for first-hand experiences
all waiting is over, all whining is through,
all whimpering trumpeting lamenting is due
what shimmering hoovering
never an easy moment
silence is but meaning without sound, all moments have words
falling from thrones of rat bones and empty suitcases
ghast, gliding on a high of appricot jam.
not just sometimes, but all the times, and all the places, and all walks
all encompasing, all compases, all direction pointing devices used for navigation to all points of the sea,
all sailboats, all sails, all boats,
all waters turged and wet
charred black fringes of former posessions
ingrown pusswound fleshrot
gloat fuck—gagging on a spoon full of nutsack
soft fur is a sign of sainthood
inviting goosebumps makes for gutrot gluttony
goods and gusto, glimmering of glass stone
cradle and all, well, ok, cradle and some
maybe cradle and most, but maybe that’s missleading
cradle and something
cradle and other stuff of undetermined quantity
cradle and assumed not quite everything
cradle and a finite number of things that seems exhaustive
cradle and that elusive everything
cradle, just cradle, screw all.
goldielocks as a dominatrix with her three hairy bear subs
“Someone’s been sleeping in MY bed!”
sticky stuck keys, grime induced scrub-brushed bristle-trill
out of context content
Some rock stars look sump-pump scrumptious.
scandal suicide; letter opener opened himself
organic grey; refrigerator guilt of germs and mildew
lies are guilt absolving guilt-machines
call of blueberries, got gout on my toenail,
master whasmn; and now we’re under fire
our own psyches are less compatible with some people
found a camcorder on the corner,
in a pile of trash baking on the curb
leftovers from collection day
underneath a face-down cardboard sign that read
“large item, please haul”
someone had taped themselves having sex
girl staring straight at the camera
she didn’t blink as he came moaning behind her
then her hand looming and sudden blackness
I quickly hid the camera under my shirt
and quickly but quietly walked home
took the camera out and couldn’t get it to play again
there was no battery inside
no tape either
walking on taquilla, tipsy on bottle burn
books dash hopes and destroy dreams the same way
movies dash images and destroy imagination
watching is believing, belittling the beligerent bunson burners
got brains on my eyes, bursting forth from skulls in radioactive glory
crawling on their little stems, inching forward like slugs
gooey brains like gods without senses
smothering the bunson burner
a bananna a day keeps the peel police at bay
gorgeous fun, giggling sneeze-fit, red circle
all ogle’s eve
hoggle at hogwrts wanted to play boggle for breakfast
blundering into board game buisness for bleeding heart hermaphrodites
parties like pastries, oatmeal cream parties, calendar parties on the clock
dearest dinner guest, I am all out of table scraps
ice cream social distortion diagnosis
reptile scowl, fingers like raptor talons
scratching at eyes, tyranasaurus eyes—heavy and dry
dinosaur heart… a colapsed ribcage
slowly and meticulously unburied
in the dust of a revealed mountain’s past
growing like hunger, a belly’s full bowl of indiference
sex is fuckt
de to a fault
grapevines are gravity-swept wind mines, dropping their plump payloads like foucault pendilums
ceiling tile hangover
stopgap city, rubber stopper sasquatch sas
federal jury – rigged ring of truck theives
18 wheel cowboys, packing crate pirates
fed winking gallop upward stare disheveled die-hard
gallop through vortexes of liquid thought manifest in a gloppy gelatinous goo
titter-sated, satiated, salivated, masturbated
long john silver, got his spurs stuck in his longies
It’s better to laugh than cry hysterically, bemoaning the loss of your fifth pet goldfish to the silvery clutches of your cat’s prickling feline tongue.
cannon and candle, quilted eyes suckerfish punched blue-in-the-face bruised
a no-brainer moon-blow, eyebrow-scar and twisted seatbelt pants fury
insulting, zealous, dominant
stick stuck stroll struck, seven esses sundered upside downside waterslide
fourth of june,
legs sticking out at odd angles, fingers and bloodied pits
masses of hair, long slithering snake like appendages
wrouught iron infantry, calgon taking you away
mail cheauvenist com
pig.com is for sale, oink!
wild horses can’t drag tame horses away, or maybe tame horses couldn’t drag me away
What freedoms are strong enough to ring know better than to draw attention to themselves by doing so.
lectures about ants and anuses
a light glow, golf clap, a mind bald and unaltered.
what if all we have left are the shoes and sandals and leaves falling off trees like snot from a sickling’s nose? What if all we have left are those things we don’t want?
if fear is the mind-killer, what is love? What is hate? What is hope?
All thoughts have a history as rich and interesting as the trails of ants,
tiny intricate invisible lines painted in sand and over seemingly
going ashore is a lot like falling in
sounds of water are different from sounds of stone or wood,
although they are simmilar to footsteps sometimes
storm warnings are usually useless—lets get worked up over a little wind
slow stutter steps on plaid sidewalk
fresh-hewn lawn owns grass stains
Our bodies are these incredibly complex machines for motion.
I find it ironic that the brain’s original purpose was to facilitate motion of the body, and yet now ours are so complex that we spend all day staring at computer monitors, in positions of relative immobility.
is anything enough, is experience enough, is life enough?
can you ever feel you’ve already felt it all?
is it possible to really find nothing impossible?
experience belies imagination, but imagination belies common sense.
all about waiting, which is a cold and fevered thing to do,
cold like cold sweat, or hot like cold sweat, or
hot like fever, waiting at the top of your forhead
boiling over and whispering thunder in your ears
wide spread blanket
piled on, like pillows on sultan’s sheets, or rice on a plate, snow on the
hill, ants on sugar, sugar on salt, lake bed, tired eyes dress yes
rice noodle necklace,
pearl penguin perniciously perking, peeking, puking its pesky puckered pills
arguing is a cock’s throat’s burr
dirty sheets make for snuggle
grinding and sick sounds,
back of throat icicles
lets rally for leftovers, cook for sunken ships and leave loose lips parted
with sweet scents of cinnamon and parsley: pucker up!
symetry is next to the glow of light white from the wall, plaster, paint, thin
lines and stock photography sessions mind numbing selections, salutations
scattered felt in freyed commentary, words like flesh wrappers, like cotton,
patches of versions pickled and pineconed
wild slapstick eyes, cockroach feet and felt tipped pencils
buff building body babe bastard bitch
stuff is like packing matterial, the clouds of the house
satan’s middle finger, sticking right up your butt
anal sex with a wratchet set
stellar lipstick swimming pool kiss
setting apart the bad guys from the good, splitting the difference infinitive
stings like a sanguine bees tail
all wrapped up in spinlessness
like sunshine spines or sequences of silver
in sky blue waters, the glint of sunshine reflected
relentless shimmering of waves,
like stars twinkling, or points of light
eye gaping, holes in o-zones, e-zones, i-zones, eye-zones
erogenous-zone layer needs reparation
hordes of apeing gaping mouthes, sliding off the faces of apeing idiots in
cubeland, a farm of bean-sized brains pecking at keyboards, bean sized
fingertips flickering moth-like on glowing monitors.
swift retribution in resolutionless fetching
blanket blather and bristling bellyache
swallow your own tail
eat the head of the one next to you
bully buffet, strong man smorgasborg
all hollow evening stalking like sun-dried seasoning. snark bait.
all I do is complain. If only someone would pay me for it!
Feelings are like rough drafts—at first you think you’ve really felt
something, but later it turns out it was something else, sometimes better,
sometimes worse. Is it that the feelings are different, or that the memory of
them is tainted in the circumstance of remembering?
all hail bells and whistles!
resonance is luscious
“fear is the mind killer” fear is actually mindware
dollar for dollar, writers are a bunch of hacks
writers are those that make money from delusion
goongoober gone goofyfoot gobstopper
glam is the gling glincing off the glimmershield
don’t assume, don’t pollute, don’t commute
nothing is like nothing when you’re noone and nobody
all about a series of moments
diagnose the problems with draino
floating like jetsam, pizelgrazing on pressurized static
squirt, match socks and skirt,
squiggle and tickle and blurt
grant permission like as shattered flim flam floom
days are slow like someone waiting
traffic and stupidity are bedfellows
a pack of lions fits securly in your pocket protector
like spelling mistakes in ice cream, or flights of fancy candles
red rest recline respite
Gods are gnomes with bigger hats
soggy bottom bootleg blackbelt boomslam bling bling
nature versus torture?
trance substance, ear ooze, oodles of knowledge in saline saturation
no wonder, wheels, wet in winter, white
time destroys all it touches, yet only in time are things possible
forget to secure your territory
perspective is the purpose
angels asphyxiate on aphid leaves
What freedoms ring are those whose effects are seen. It’s the silent
freedoms we need prompt to sing.
souls are the electrical activity of nervous systems
neuron switchboards, dream connections
thoughts are physical manifestations of god
we have kaleidoscope imaginations
colors and events, circle and shift
dreams are eons of sky
morning gote, my hand is forced,
you call, I get up, brush my teeth, get dressed
no luxurious sente sleeping in
dotted lines and designs and boxes oh my!
CSSnakes and HTMLions
shallow grave walking, feet from headstone to headstone
one eye we are the cyclops
two eyes we are human
three eyes clairvoyant
four eyes augmented
five eyes we are budhist
six eyes are strange
seven eyes we are Jehovah
eight eyes the spider
nine eyes we are hiding something
reading the poetry of a close friend
Imagine you are she, her words
your life, scrunched up into incomplete
sentences and lines that break
funny. Glimmering sequences of events,
the shiny ones, the powerful ones that
shimmer through the passage of time
bubbling to the surface of memory
long enough to get spat out in
word fragments and fractions of sentences.
Minimal effort required, becoming her, your
eyes flickering back and forth—fickle thoughts, connecting the poem
where she kisses the window
with the slant of her nose, or the
slightly needy tone with the flipside of
her independent personality, the side you
empathize with immediately, the side you
don’t even have to imagine.
coaxing the snail to run
mold riddled rivets sunk in plastic
waiting like a frozen pizza—outside the box
quiet like encryption working dark underground of passwords
death of a slavesman
wall of tactile experience
touch like tornados
submit to inspection via oral inquisition
gallon of welcome run dry evaporated sunshine
shady oak road, shady slow load
shady shady shady shady
shadow’s nape slither into dead of light
was a wall white? were wasted withering willows wilted by the way?
truncated thoughts are only partially dangerous.
a boppled bip blaster all wriled up on wilted flower plaster
a slow sloth of a page, refresh like a mac truck
life is easily split into categorized chunks or lumps
meanings of events dumped into simmilar buckets
extrapolated into identical messages, identical moments
personal sub-stratta sequences of thoughts
sublime into brain’s ether, modes and syntaxes superficially dissimilar
but the same string theory tie-ins, same same same
playing with fire gives you sunspots in your armpits and smokebreath in your stomach
all slippery slopes lead to lead pipes and pan flutes
sleet is agnostic
white froze on freeway
all lines leading astray, all paths of flight delayed
all eyes like surrounded beasts caged in and cagey
jittery, jilted, jonsing and juxtoposed
madness lies the way of foul breathing
soggy words on lilting breath
like dark rainbows
shades of black and suffering
fruit of past felt feline encumberances
tinytext int blob binary varchar
flatscreen eyeballs watching data base ball
widescreen eyes surprised at time stamp collecting
five years is a long time. I remember when… back in the day…
all hollow on the eve of tree trunks and frozen snowcone dreams
sticks on stones make wizard bones and eletist hands to bind them
bid the light spastic
bracket closed bracket, open bracket
clever is a road in egypt that goes strait to your brain getting scooped out through your nose after you die
All roads lead to afterlife, even if it’s just death.