a compilation of my trippy whit and wisdom...all be it insane improve from another board, far far away... -- Council of The Grey

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Date Posted: 18:39:02 09/16/00 Sat
Author: steve
Subject: a compilation of my trippy whit and wisdom...all be it insane improve from another board, far far away...

peering off into the madness
the maelstrom of mirth
my swirling soul is stunned
by the sonic scathing scream of silence
echoing off the sun

nobody ever listens to me
the blistering beckon noted
as it flared it's fiery bulletin
across the morning sky
sending it's searing message
out to sea for all to see
"it's because you don't have a voice!"
Squawked the gull as he shit on the light house
"then how do you hear me"
the beckon wondered
"I don't, your just imagining things."
Beamed the gull, in a dull matter of fact type tone

My hands bleed profusely, as I grasp jagged shards of her splintered soul. Blood mingles with my tears to run down my arms and form a puddle at my feat. As the puddle began to mingle with the dust about the temple floor, I thought to myself: is this how we came into being? The shattered soul of a goddess; the blood and tears of a heart broken god forming a great deluge which swept away stardust to new destiny?

A blackened heart, and a dark soul cast a shadow over us all. However, it takes light to cast shadow.

The moons very thoughts, a reflection of it's mother suns light, penetrate the night dividing darkness so that we could dance naked by the camp fire. This magnificent moonlight mingled among the seasons blessing of a solar storm in an incestuous dance to begat an odd inbred spectrum. The very lust of the universe flooded our hearts, as we succumbed to raw instinctual passion: I forced her to all four in the dirt.

Lost in exile from the pleasure palace; here there are forests of sugar plums, but they rot your soul as well as your teeth. Bring back that divine sense of being, where bliss pours out over us from a tap unlimited: boundless days and limitless nights of passion. I want to figure a true sense of being from total connection. Do not cut me off because I choose not to pay your silly bill, and it is not thievery: I cannot steal what is mine. My soul is free, thus you cannot charge me for salvation.

Blind ambition guides us,
on the perilous path of a two inch stone bridge across the abyss,
so we can span the universal divide.
I have been toiling in this subconscious mine,
gathering granite to broaden our path,
but let it be known this is tiresome work.Maybe one day my efforts will hit pay dirt,
so the children can play in the garden,
with the pagans and the elves.

Insane rabble makes a fine quarry score for my bridge...!

Godless goodness, and hate less hell; when I find peace I will ring the golden dinner bell and call you all to my feast: be you greatest; be you least. We will dine on blackened enlightenment and drink wine squeezed from the grapes of spent wrath. It seems like all this word candy is dessert though; I have always been one to eat my cake before my vegetables.

Just a second it takes, one momentary lapse, and I will tumble from grace into infinite madness: at least I will never hit the ground.

A daunting dare, or dare I say a daring method to daunt. Taunt me with you're your toilsome tasks to eat my scarce time: busy work is not progress; fuck the system.

...I get that burning fealing when I am a mile high...
...when I want a taste of the true progress of the human race, I go get some sugar free ice cream and douse it in fat free carmel...

Lucid laughter echoed through my soul, as the demon gripped my essence in his razor precise fangs: attempting to garnish control. His voice shook my foundation: "Give yourself to me and become a child of God."

sweet as death...
...the dead man cried...

...I like to go barefoot...I can connect with the earth that way: with my real soul, and not so fake rubber one. I just wish I was Bigfoot, so I could have a much large bond with it and what not...

snort blue salt.... ...it will burn your soul, and your nostrils...

There I go again, bare foot and broken, burdened by the cross of reason I bare witha bruise. Across the desert I walked to find a mini-mart, and scream, "it doesn't make any sense, stop all this nonsense you over baring realist, you invade my soul with your inconsequestial babble, bargahaghaaghaghaghhsghhallligbanb-bang...put me out of my misery before the flies eat me like a dead horse."
then the rag head owner of the store had a smart ass question for me: "How can you be in misery if your dead?" so I snapped his fucking neck and had a slurpe on the house...

I am back from raoing women, burning churches, and... ...pillaging small costal towns with my imaginary pirate fleet... ...I even had time to stop for a cup of tea at me mum's house...

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Replies:

for further reference... -- oyster, 23:19:45 09/16/00 Sat