Posts

Abaddon ~ Friday, April 24, 2026

The Clairvoyant Center of Avalon how do they know that I am on my way each time, before my appointment, they know Claire plays her violin, while Abaddon lightly accompanies on piano ask them not how they know, for, as they say if I could see clearly, all time would show reality as connections, as joints visualize the past to observe chrono obstructions for Gaṇeśa to remove yesterday, the future was wide open ant on the bathroom countertop, to prove nothing is arbitrary, as spoken to Theresa, who sits and waits, she points Creatively, with daggers from her eyes empty of disillusion, delusion nervous with energy, ready to spring towards me for no good reason, my lies emerge as from a stream, is this a dream reality bent as an illusion offer my condolences, as to bring forth a sense of kindness, why does she pounce Abaddon laughs as I begin to scream values and virtues remain uncertain abandon all hope to enter the clear lonely and sad, lower the red curtain onl...

Arpeggios ~ Friday, April 24, 2026

The Clairvoyant Center of Avalon Theresa spoke, sweetly, as in a dream heat, not honey, dripping flames from her lips each time she opened her mouth, her forked tongue Claire, I kid you not, her tongue made me scream like a little girl, you played violin as if in raptures, while swaying your hips impossible, I know, and as I clung reality shifted again, you played very fast like Paganini, begin over again, reset button, press hard yet, you kept playing violin, I cried angry at the world, at myself, a bard no one knows, no one understands, I died trouble is, nobody cared, your hips swayed Centered on the sound, on the groove, Old Scratch entered the room and took me far away nervous because I was with the Devil terror filled my soul, a sparrow to catch erroneously, my espresso left ready-to-hand, my heart began to sway officially, I was dead, how to kill foreigners, like myself, as the Other Available in my torso, bereft virtually, of all virtue, I lose all sense...

Crimson Silence / Red Gyralight ~ Friday, April 24, 2026

Why is it always something that goes wrong Welcome to this, the shit is always real how did we get to this point, no one cares yes, I include all of us on this bus insanity expects change, to appeal suddenly, to our representatives instantly, as if overnight, she shares the truth about transit, all of this fuss answers to the question, no real demand languish taking daily preventives work too many hours in each short week absentees versus duty-borne, no end yet, we pay the bills, or paddle shit creek salvage the wreckage, no one to defend secrets, maps, buried treasure, sleight of hand offset by the future unseen, unknown monsters of the imagination lurk everywhere something breaks, as the earthquakes thunder and rumble, once this bird has flown helpless on a planet, the afterlife implies the second strike, darkness and murk needless to swim upstream, my body aches given the need to prove our worth, talent that empty vessel, to the brim with strife hats off to t...

The Clairvoyant Center of Avalon ~ Thursday, April 23, 2026

The Clairvoyant Center of Avalon Theresa knew that I felt kind of blue helpless without insight or perspective exactly how I felt for forty years Clinical depression comes in one hue laissez-faire capitalist gray matter air all my grievances as reflective irregardless that the mirror weeps tears real as the silver dollar in my hand vogue comes in waves, Theresa, to scatter oysters along a reef, to sleep in bed yhwh, the Tetragrammaton, to speak as to pronounce the sacred name, instead non-pronunciation, the rule, to seek terror beyond this world of falling sand Center the weight within the hourglass exactly as expected, eventide nightfall, dusk rolls as fog in the city terror of the unknown, what comes to pass exactly as Theresa spoke the name recall the Oracle, another bride opens her mouth, as Pythia, pity for humankind, the omphalos, she spoke Ava tells me, indirectly, her fame valued as a messenger with foresight along with the god, Apollo, her words ling...

Gomez Sings the Blues ~ Wednesday, April 22, 2026

My feet are numb, I may be dumb, but, I  still run, for fun. What can I do, I have no clue. The doctor says, guess what Gomez, eat Pez and die. If I should cry, tears from my eyes, taste them for lies, salty or sweet. If in my feet, while on the street, I run for fun and feel quite numb. If I am dumb, forgive my brain, I am insane, just a wee bit, a little shit, trying to make this life less fake, if I could bake and stay at home, under the dome, secure, I roam, still nothing felt, a leather belt, childhood, no fun, why I now run a marathon, I am so gone.

My Nemesis ~ Tuesday, April 21, 2026

In the mirror, my own worst enemy no one reflects on the universals the facts laid out before me, thus I learn how everyone is in the same boat, see eternity, an imaginary metaphor used in faith-based rehearsals instantiations of belief, to earn riches beyond belief, in faith to kill religiously faithful others, ferry otherwise than acceptable, the dead remember the living, ignorant, blind mischievous as feral cats, goes unsaid yet, in the same boat we sail, of one mind only, what to say of the past, I fill worthless books of dead wood, standing on shelves not knowing who will care to read these words worthless kindling ignites the fireplace only God, I imagine, and those elves run riot to save the whole world, insane soldiers ready to kill for little birds tough, tough men and women, born, full of grace enter the battlefield, all in a rush nobody cares how many die, the bane embarks on existence, as to annoy mustard seeds crushed with mortar and pestle yet, th...

Creativity Manifests Magic ~ Monday, April 20, 2026

Magic brings the Majestic Unicorn Magic is not simply the sleight of hand as witnessed by the audience at shows given our inability to make in the old fashioned way to create sand create land, create demand to attract brilliant possibilities as mind grows rich within poverty, let them eat cake invested in history, in moments neatly ordered as if time were a fact golden, malleable, to recreate dreams silent, hidden within truth, beyond light theatrics, pyrotechnics, the sky screams how the art of magic, far out of sight enters the vernacular as events Majestic is the Unicorn in dance as imaginary as a monk floats just sitting in meditation, creates emptiness, leaves no trace, a trance stationary as a statue, no scratch tickles the nose, no flies bother old goats in manifestations of dire straits creates beauty and kindness out of pain Unicorns symbolize the escape hatch necessary to imagine as real imagine as a mythical creature creates the magic as a dance to ...