Chapter XX.
"To be a poet is a condition rather than a profession." --Robert Graves.Garcia Fly. DON'T PANiC, just keep dancing. WHEN YOU HEAR WHAT i HAVE TO SAY TO YOU don't wet yourself. PAY CLOSE ATTENTiON, closer still, right there yes, taste the jizz in my gill slits. i HAVE COME TO TELL YOU THAT YOUR LiVES ARE iN GRAVE DANGER. So get up dance, sing and get way way off your tits. AT THiS MOMENT AN ARMY MAYBE MARCHiNG AROUND THE SHORES OF America and Europe FOR THE PURPOSE OF MASSACRiNG ALL THE PEOPLE ATTENDiNG THiS PEACEFUL GiG. So get up, get up. Come together, Kick out the Jams Motherfuckers, again and again. Kick it! Don't Panic. Just Dance. All the breast wishes, fly. Dribble down to earth o' techni-colored chemical c✺de language, c✶de within a star-spore.
Fli thought while showering and scratching a tuff pimple on my backside while watching the water spiral down the plug holyverse, watching always watching the words. Magnettafor' spinning her off and out and off axis tao once more, what d'ya think? eh? Girl on girl action. Mebbe you heard this all before? Rising like the dΩmestic price of fossil fuel, Lazarus musca dΩmestica fully stoned on Amanita, stoned as Stephvolutionary epistemology. Transcribed from a caterpillar into a butterFly. Red glod and green. Red G●ld and green. And blue stained footnotes of McLoona and the High Priest of dreamtyme with a dash of lime. [footnote 1] Bob's feedback Bob's up again. Woids glisten, and not glisten. Risen agun, with everybody all risen again and again, each day. Forest of eden in the salad, blooms all over the broccoli. Lush pastures of FLi-sight. Timespace-bandits. Pundits. YU has left us this time-map, its teeny weeny small, taste bitter and literally "grows on shit" YiFOSiFiGOi. a rough map of mind? Kiss me through the locking glass. Still looking? The Puharich laboratory tells of a tall collaborative story.
Pink Dolphin whistles and rhythmic clicking clacking sounds come through now. Words ruddy-mixed concrete rescrubed to glisten a little, scuffed and buffed up. Termteabell platter spinning heads. Re-ply over ply. Repeat stop. Start, rub the beat dab the groove. Mix & Make time. A letter from 1132 AD and a calendar from 1922 spin on Termteabells, full procession cycles. Hip hop cube-house, pack of cards. Full house of immortal Rappers, Dj's, Grafters and breaker. Secret chambers beneath the pyramids of Giza hold the hidden records. The intelligence dubplates. To re-translated the Orient and spin scrolls back to back to the Black Country mind. Vinyl scrolls enfolded like masking tape. Rolling poems On the ninth of the ninth 99 your mum opened a star-gate portal next to this, our River Out to woid'O outer regions. in the bugging wuz the woid'O.
Hairy brownstone beats bomb hiphop trax and only shrink wrapped L.P's to we on parades. any crusades in the name of the Name" no name and be brandle, slang rhyme be the scandal zone. Spellz wots gotcha, so break out and run wid the sphere, me deer running bang Bang, hunting season now over and i can't stop. With an editor i can stop. But still i can help rhyme myself into line and then re-shuffle my linear sequence, re-align to avoid the void of a woid landmind. Cough splutter and produce alternative consequence. fairy tale talk tapes and ampex xepmama: a hyper-spatial index. RNA string sparkling, scribes and new tribes, and SΩMA keeps flow-in, played back out of a self replicating juke box, seven inch steps to seventeen syllables. Haiku - Bless YU. Midguts versus the digits and the credit card has cumeth four 666, Christmas sails. This year it's different and last year was last year. Day to day everyday. Octosyllabic. Juenjue for 24 hours. Totty - Seal calendar, the revolutionary calendar, 76. One world, 52 weeks in a year, Full house, silver branch of a bank, pro-blooms stemming from the senate house bank mono℗oly. No corn in the bread. Pack of cards and a royal flush, a ®oyal house, you a gambles mon? House of cards, house of sharks, suits you sir, Who issues it how? who deals the SΩMA to keep the months spinning. River bank of meaning, the living bringer of wealth and filth and shit. ℗oliticians live in a house of cards and the banker always wins. Stop the race.
Lift up the bulls tail and look the facts in the face. i went into cash converters to cash a cheque - it wouldn't convert. Capitalism has no value if the face of money continues to be stamped TRUE and REAL by the sovereign powers of murdering nation states worldwide. Wee-pen's of mask-onstruction: ink-pen-e-trouble, ink Spirit’s united. War and piss. in memory of those who died in Vietnam. Nixon pissing around in bed leading to a watergate malfunction. Clinton and his hard on, and Monica's July 23rd birthday. I flew to Knu Cork and saw glass skyscrapers swaying in the wind-cloud, glass and grey steel concrete.
i'm writing this down to combat newspapers, this song most probably will not chart, so long and blustery, i'm singing right here from inside my own pink head. Free. Master Chan wrote things that went through me like grandmas gamma rays, so i took to the skies on a truth-seeking journey. No plans kept me right on time like the wind. From Zoo Ork to mindwashington, Mecago to Lexas, i bled ink all the way, a red trail of ink leaking from under the bus. Making organic fiction at every mechanical great greyhound connection. Google'd out me windtao at the vast Golden blanket of boondock drop country, and spyme thinking in the E.S.Pinion age' that the stars above were about to explode for me. Like a cowboy i ventured through the dark with no suitcase, just a few dollar, just a pale inquisitive face, and a mind with a spark. Lonely and weary my head was full with Leoray. i started to notice the light, it was daybreak New Mexico, mountains topped white with snow, were riding high into the indian SKY.
It was April and hot and my heart was seeking in ole Santa Fe. Old indian shamans dance with plumed rattles, motherplaint tongued, i saw pictures of the cowboys who stole all their cattle and land although it was not really theirs they were just temporary stewards. Anyas and Anyas economic representative dancers. i saw murals burning on a pink concrete canvas, electric Graph Bastard. Wrinkled script, ancient future. A muddle €nglishchild seas, Eurochild, guilty of colonial crimes committed by my common ancestors. Violence extortion and rape however are not the authors personal heritage. And i wept for RED women, and i weep for mountains the sparkle that got bought! And the SKYspace sold to white-devils and the Rivers that were stolen by crooked men. Buffalo slaughtered, trees turned to newspaper.
i sit here weeping the United states tidal blues. They turned the trees into newspapers. The SKY into news. SKY into news©o®℗s. The hidden hand stole the land. Yes they did, and so who they be, who are they, who are they? if its me, then its you too, either way, either way. So i walked by the road side with my dollars, all spent out on medicine and i listened to Francis Huxley spit the cosmic serpent. i prayed to the sky gods, and Big raven and One-wolf, please help bridge the gulf between mankind and this supernature, lets rearrange the mental furniture between the greenchairs and the grassy-carpet knolls. Help children and adults see straight to the spiral. Me looking through lyemask that covers the river and the lakes and the SKY with symbol-signs that read Trespassing, No no no.
Our silence while trapped under government Bull hoof will echolocate us, remind us to put up sour tongues, prick up our ears, exorcise demons attached to our fears, Just the other day i was stepping to town, saw police man bust a kid just fo' wearing a frown, Screw face cop face like a sad horse said "you high kid, your coming with us " [Future prophecy] So, i stepped to the Panda car and went off to the zoo there were ape's pig brothers and lions, Oh, man, now what do i do? do i do now? Confess to the mess that i wrote in the Atlanta loo? hey you really want to know what i'm doing? i'm dying for a living. Allmen. Gods are in the RNA spore-prints. SMi2=LE! Suck green hints and taste the prints of darkness. GREEN moments, magic - do you sear what i meanuments. Do you disagree with C.C spygla$ cop TV in every city? yr. watching me to catch me, unnerving me, disturbing me, your laws passed like farts at a funeral by flaky Lords and crumbling Tsars. Hereditary and money bred horses for the world race to the end. Now we are watching you. Everything maybe watching the watchers everyware. Wait. For the Watchers. Ad finitum. Irises Osiriuses.
“a reference to the autumnal Toadstool-Dionysis engendered by lightning - may have been equated with Talus -- Robert Graves.
DO NOT DiSTURB HER. DO NOT PUSH THE River. Like they grew up on mars or some other planet government must have grown feral and foreign. Gov. seems an alien principle, inhuman sometimes at best, murder and slavery at worst. No interest in rhymes just crimes. But, not the corporate crimes i see. They just tapped my phone, my own and my home, what's the big idea Big Brother. Whig loverflat. Mathematical clout oozing from intel's propositional functions to help me combat your truncheons pilots, peas rice and broccoli coils to spice up yer luncheons, its not just a hunch sir, Man flesh investments Newt for nout. in Finn it. )+( Scrambling round scaffolding. Mathardge through her knickers and squeeze her Knock Queen Knockers. Unveil Her Harry! Unravel blinking chords from your GU©T's. Looking while blinking up your skirt. Hair falling From this Women's patchwork dress with My Tongue A.i was Born again, born' thats all. A Hairy Stone bleeding blood. Hippocrillik happy cynic. Clowning behind your back. Bopping about in Futurist Slippers. Ankh for a Wank and wee all fookin' blind. San Funk Ho Oaks Nan Khan Noone Blue. M❍❍n baby Blue like the eyes of sue. Freedom Kisses for Freedom. Her Tragic-terry
Perfect into your Blueberry cave. The sound of the lapping waters, the grape juice in the wave. Union rings round the moon. Gnutty Galaxy tones and tapioca bubbles. Like fireFlies flashing and pulsating sturs. Snapping on/off. Flash of sexy G-string theory underneath Blue Panties. Motherplant of Good Eggs on Friday? Blue blue blue. Once green turned into Browne town, no downtown. Charlie "Gordon" Brown town. Large coke and fries culture. Cocktail of steel bars and fake plastic guards. Unchained and under construction under contract from bards. Under sir.veilance. Under new management, and the sewer roars onwards. Crooks and grannies. Money people. funny people. Back-handers by dope demand, corkwynders and upper cuts. Bodies buried in sandstone, turned to glass.
Sickdonaids, Tescno or Miss Selfridgid, MIT Malvern stereotype. Pre-packed genes. Breed my preshious. Breed. Pre-packaged and pre-arranged procedure. Town councils got amnesia. Blinded by the crystal scandaleer. Conliblaborconservative laxatives dished out daily like hash browns. Authority rises in waves of assault, cameras and drama increase on the street. Forced into mind. Prevent criminals doing their crimes before they do their crimes, (℗re-c®yme) before they do their crimes, before they do our crimes of apathy towards cognitive liberty. And 40 Billion Pound's has been stolen from the people to fight a business w☠r. A criminal w☠r. A criminal war abroad. Put thoughts into words and sentences get distorted Get Rhetorical and trifocal. Think global acto locaql.
Amrita Arousing thunder growth, One shade-foot springs with excitement. Expanding early morning sky, Eldest boom-thud-rumble Sunz evaporate. Vaporiz'd in a Volcano. Tuned in and not tuned in. i. Combine currants with 1 glass of berries and enough Golden apple Cider to cover; soak till plump looking, get baked for 30 minutes, next Soak bread-head Slices in remaining Apollo Cider. Chill. Oil nine 2-quart Christ pudding bowls with vegetaboil mind. Heat oven to 451 degrees Fahrenheit. Chill. Bhang! Shooting shards propagate, shooting star fragments.
Small bong creationism in the sweaty yellow kitchen of kitsch gods. Thunder enlightening. Whizz-bong particles accelerate, shifting red out-black out. Return and resurrection into the light house. ➚ Seeds of light thrown onto a Birch coppice scroll. Human eyes to mix the unmixed spectacle with some imagination. D®eam of becoming like a Chinese written Character. Rotting LiffeyCap mushroom. You can actually train the mycelia to grow on different media. Meaning has been sentenced to a linear PRiSON, highlighted by a pristine Sun light. Moisture Conducts heavenly muzak. Kitchen L.S.D experiments with Electro shock-king rumble spark razzle-dazzle flash forking More brilliant than the Sun shine! Representation glistens and does not glisten. Pulse of light-maze. Apple dangle and soever drop far from the dumpster, silver branch probably.
11.00 A.M. 2:4:00. Walking down Stourbridge High Street on what felt like a Sunday when i noticed a door left slightly open in the side of the entrance to the old Owen Owen shop--the theatre which was demolished--some years ago. i went through the door intrepidly and found the most beautiful architecture and interior designs i had ever seen, all like marble, glass and crystal, but with rich colors not usually associated with these materials. Large Machines and computers were within the walls and probably within all the incredible furniture too. Lilac/Aqua/Purple/sky blue. A group of people greeted me acting informal as if we had met before. i felt very comfortable and truly welcome. i spent what felt like days and days leaving this place and then coming back again, chatting and Learning things and then also visiting different local destinations, sometimes with the same small group of people that greeted me. Suddenly it dawned on me, THEY ALL SEEMED ALMOST ALiEN! But for know real explainable reason, they looked just like regular Human beings, but they were very calm, and a bit smug. They seemed correct in everything that they were suggesting to me, i felt they were right in their teaching. Eventually we ended up sitting around a table and i felt like i was being tested by this group of people. The Women who seemed to be head of this meeting was about 40 years old and had long straight brown hair and spoke fluent Angelic. She reminded me of Helen a bit. When i was asked questions others would just 'prompt" me sometimes with what seemed the right answer. This seemed to amuse them. They were all helping me learn. The questions had the flavor of Zen Koan's to them. i would say my answer and then some kind of "After paradox" effect would ripple out, giggles and sighs from the group often accompanied huge smiles, maybe too big to become weird. This resonated with my mind for long time. i remember the color scheme throughout this hidden learning center Lilac/Aqua/Purple/sky blue. i had the same dream as a school friend. We were gobsmacked about having had the same dream in a dream.
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