Sunday, May 30, 2010

Effervescent White Lights.

We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and mystery. - H.G.Wells ( 1866-1946 )

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. - Friedrich Nietzsche ( 1844-1900 )

It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop. - Confucius (551 BC-479 BC)

If you want peace, stop fighting. If you want peace of mind, stop fighting with your thoughts. - Peter McWilliams ( 1991 )

Nothing is permanent in this wicked world - not even our troubles. - Charlie Chaplin ( 1889-1977)

Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die. - Mel Brooks ( 1926- )

Rag rag

Sitting in the corner
Knowing I can't scorn her
The fault is all my fault
Consequences and resulst.

Take it with a grain of salt
Eyes turn colbalt
Waiting for the river flow
To see which way the wind blows.

Give it time, save a dime
Lemonade from the limes
Try not to take it the wrong way
I didn't know what to say.

Truth a great releaser
Honesty will be my death
Smoke another cigarette
Choke until my final breath.

I know I can't change your mind
Waiting for the summer time
Standing at the gates of fall
Please know I love you all.

All the cards I never send
All the follies start to blend
Built up like a hurricane
Waiting for the red rain.

Every plead I try to make
I do it for our sake
And all the leaves I have to rake
Are labeled with my mistakes.

I'm young and there is time to learn
All the leaves you gotta burn
Yearning for simplicity
Not enveloped in negativity.

I pent you up and I relent
Sometimes I think your heaven sent
For loving such a fool as me
Like I'm a lost philosophy.

I'm sorry dear
I'm sorry friend
But this is where the rhyme ends.

Check out www.monkmanmedia.com

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Hello Neighbour.

I see you,
for you see through me.
Your precious heart,
has sadly gone.

There's no more stories,
just dead eyes.

Repetitive non the less,
It's so hard to get something off your chest.
Much more to forgive, then to forget.

So bubbly, flash, scene queen, babble.
You've lost the real you,
we have too.

Well now,
so positioned,
by the poison you've drank.

When you accept your first award,
On the back of your mind,
Who will you thank?


I have forgiven myself,
and for that I have forgiven you.


*ing married and loving it!

Friday, May 21, 2010

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Thursday, May 13, 2010

Beaten

I must confess

That I'm distressed

To be so blessed

Yet in duress.

All I want is a humble nest

Where I can rest

My aching breast

Without the pest

Of passing tests.

Loathing myself in your caress

Knowing I'm to stressed

To give you my best,

Knowing the opportunity I've missed

And the mess I must digest.

In my own body I feel a guest,

Uncomfortable uncleanliness,

Understandable awkwardness,

As I try to understand the cause

Of this uneasiness.

Bantering the babble

Within my head

Sorting through rubble

Finding no dead

A burst bubble

And my eyes are red.

Unnerving to feel so undeserving.

Served notice,

Severed ties and I can't lie

I'm hurting.

My words blurting like blood squirting

Fresh hot from my soul to the page.

Enraged slightly

Imprisoned politely

To a cage of my own design

And right now i'm not feeling fine

Knowing not where to draw a line

Between civility and believability

A rotten rhythm in me

As I beat myself,

Torture myself unwillingly.



>/2010



Check out http://www.monkmanmedia.com/

Saturday, May 8, 2010

truth be bold.

When we write,

we stay tight.





On the 27" iMac again.

guess where I am?


Keep on the read, with bleed.



tinks' smitton.

House coat, taking the time really enjoy the house coat; tu me manques.

Wrestling through laundry for a spare of: tinks'

distracted; tinks' I'll save the note to settle. Reading the letter. If we were yarn and needle; we'd knit a fine sweater.


love you,

rosie baby.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

MOnk


Monk is the heart and the soul

of what we do.. of MonkmanMedia...

Aspiring

truly, the heart of many..


Honestly...

that's way to much on to frown..


Why does this happen?

Especially when we need it most?

How inconsiderate is negativity

to always want to flaw the inspired?


Maybe its the amounts of hours of work

the strain, the collected internal brain stress

that oozes to the screen, breaking and swallowing up

the computers insides...


You'll make up the work in no time..

And like you said bro..

Better...wayyy freakiinnggg betteerrr...





Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Monk call me

May have a hookup
To save you some woe,
Load it to my computer,
A bandaid.
Macs are his specialty
Let me know, what's shot,
I'll figure out if we can at least save the filing cabinet.

Call

Check out www.monkmanmedia.com

Back up your Mac.

One long a painful life lesson to be learned.

Always back up your Mac, I mean... if you don't to retrieve the data.

It costs 2,100 bucks to send it out and have them crack it open to restore your lost data.


That's the price of a whole new unit.


So, as I type out to you all, while sitting in a Mac authorized repair shop... on a sweet new iMac 27"


Let this be own, if a Mac harddrive craps out the second you put your Disk in to back it up...


Your fucked.


On the bright side, I get to buy a brand new machine. Fucking Hell.


Check out Bleed Poetry.



Be advised I will be re-releasing Eli Thomson's new ebook. Once I rebuild it on a fresh computer, the original one was lost in the harddrive, in which tells me to make an even stronger version for viewer impact.

Monday, May 3, 2010

I O U, U O ME

So if I trip

my mind will rip

and my father'll spit

white like the last to the

outlasted hymn,

Where we're all in

the brim trimmed

my head rug burn spin,

my eyes falling

and cave in, I cave

my sense fully

out from throgs neck,

as my neckband

stretched..

Dunking on a relapsed over head,

over the bright bed,

my hands turn to beat my mouth

Folks turn pink cheeky

bear me, my bare

head facing master tit

attack,

My brains relapsed

racing..

Free we spree out with

new antics..

Etiquette - 'Frenekace'..

When my place is big,

threaten it..

preterits, pre-'predecicing'

where it is; pre-meditated


Who you is?!?


Worm

I see e'm standing...

Eyes peering out the window

on the over heap of the train;

Watching the buildings pass

by and by...

And I ask them what to look

forward to?


Graveled dreams on the

the corner of the room...

Towards

Feel..

Givingly I stride tonight..

When the lights flair on tight.

I hold my head high..

feeling the wind

blowing through...

Continuing on my back peels

the birds dig deep racked my back,

and the flesh seems fleshed appeal..

Where did my hanging carbon made,

justify my taker, I take..

The water I drank too dry..

My knees will seep concrete..

No one, get's left behind..

::Work Slow::

Can I create work..
Can I create fire choosing my 'right'
full..
Can you pass me a shot of lead..
Will the work make me break bread..

Figured you'll also take on my..

Will I also, figure my. instances.
Amongst the words filled like the
bottom hairs of a flys stomach. I still turn
to the night to feed my calm. * it. Cause the
reaction of that night that *ed and yelled tight,
was the same night that left my thumb
smelling right.. With a rubber
on my thumb I count fat or flow.
Let's get together and eat slow.