Monday, June 12, 2006
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
How to sleep after we wake,
How to wake after we sleep,
How are you?
What a day huh?
What container are you in?
Is it a moment that you can't shake,
Is it an open living,
What we wear,
What we feel upon our skin,
What strange thing, this day's dream.
Good night nurse,
I'll live to say:
But heaven you see,
Above we must have three.
Cryptic enough for you?
Cutting wood warms you Thrice.
Chopping and Burning,
My friend, Thoreau.
Yet there's Marking,
the caveman's wall,
recording super novas in Hohokams 1006.
We may touch each other past death,
It's not such a wall.
We may know everything we forgot,
It's a singular circular spot.
Some time feels like
a room of echos,
full of wispers in the black.
Pray God, may we hear what cannot be seen.
If you know what I mean.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Just because you have the Information,
It doesn’t make it more or less Random,
And if you found Me in three Years,
Would I look better than I do now?
Pain is the Medicine,
The Truth is not electable.
Does a new Horse mean a new day?
Here comes the Sun,
The only one.
It’s easier for the dumbshits to have fun.
In the summer, it’s making ice.
In the winter, it’s the warm gloves.
And you wonder why the beers disappear.
As I grow old, stranger Is, stranger told.
In life, you gotta be more than yourself,
Ten percent over the hundred.
I think, it’s all just machines.
And some of you may disagree.
But how do you know how machines dream?
Her name is . . .