"I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe" ~ Sir Philip Sidney

As if to disappear without a trace Absence makes the heart grow fonder, what lies skies open, the clouds part, every day strife inhibits affection, trauma and stress focus on survival, observe the laws together, to gather autumnal leaves observe the bullets fly, they try to strafe distant objects as observers of bliss ignorance and folly without wisdom simply to disappear, no scent of cloves and crushed cardamom pods for spiced coffee pretend a legacy is meaningless pretend a factory to make taffy embraces a medium scrying glass answers from a mirror, darkness so dim receive the clairvoyant message, no doubt without a trace of disbelief, suspend influence in judgment as a fiction thoughtfulness requires wars not be fought habit cuts off an arm with a handshake observe harmful habits on the one hand until the blood flows out, no reaction tour a facility for the insane asinine to imagine what a joke tragedy on the other hand keeps down realistic ideas to make pr...

Suffering unsatisfactoriness until extinguishing the candle flame fulfillment as a goal is just sitting feral cats in the mind, mirror the loss emptiness, palpable as a muscle ring around the finger, circle of time imagine the beyond, no one vetting nobody else, the government, a mouse gnawing at the future, a fascicle unknown in form for what is the function nobody knows without guidance, to crave suffering and sorrow, thought in action attachment to presence, heat from a stove tasked with non-attachment, a lack of poise instruction in logic, what is beyond sitting without motion, just sitting still forgetting what appears so important aspirations, the ultimate, align cognitions, perceptions, and sensations tormented by consciousness, the forms stall objects of desire under the tent resound with one hand clap against the ear instruction in hygiene as ablutions never require a river, a stream emptiness makes what is missing present sitting with mindfulness, sal...

The petulant dwarf stood to see better her vocals were clear over the system each moment clapping the ear with one hand peevish South Asian brat, does glass shatter each time to reassemble the image tulle in the shape of a long beard, no scam unless they take the man to apprehend leftover of a bygone era, stone age Neanderthal sits back down, no pudge no knowing if he eats, or just breathes air take a moment to dream, a sādhu caught dwindling by the second, beard of coir war of the strands, black, white and gray, none straight arrives only to disappear, how vain radio frequency within the field forms alternating electric currents stone age, rail-thin sādhu, why do you look take in the whole context, a viola or a violin, a fiddle, a fest or a concert, a festival of dance dance dance, the sheep man asleep, out of luck tormented by others, all the roosters out of order, while life moves pretty fast sentient beings, all Buddha, drink milk everyone, everywhere is Go...

This man you want to fuck with, not at all how you choose, how you try, why do you care in this world, hurt people hurt inside out shit happens but with no need for ill will many survive, no struggle and no strife as each day comes and goes, they aspire neither too high, nor too low, feel the boot you taste leather and steel, what is the point observe this man, he wrongs no one, why chafe under the rub of rules you understand warn you not to run up against, why break against the wind, to change what in the end nobody bothers with because the brook turns this way, why reroute the drowned Hellespont torture learned, why commit to memory observe this man, he follows what is right fuck not with the ugliness in your mind understand what you seek is plain scary cold, sociopathic behavior lacks kindness, loving-kindness, this life you wrote witness your original face, displace ideas of harm, the alarm set to call the police for no good reason, this cell home for lifetim...

I am sorry but I do not believe in love as an anarchist and an atheist, I wait mostly for revolution or my final breath so much for politics or my own death, I live on my own terms with my own decisions, this life remains absurd as the futility of war raw images of death and destruction, a broth yellow with yolk for egg drop soup yet red with blood bitter almonds, dark blue enamel, cyanide until next time, when we meet up again in France to remember all the lives lost to fascism I do not know if you have read The Little Prince do I care if you speak words full of sarcasm only if you do harm as you do when you bleed not now, honey, you can see I have a headache only if I could run away, this world is hell to pretend it is all a dream is delusion believe what they tell you to think, I see an oak each to their own in the grand scheme of things but time leaves nothing but sweeps away specks of dust, too small invisible to the naked eye, a lesion emerges on the surface ...

for Amanda I wanted to tell you that I love you wanted to tell you just before we left and I would never talk to you again never is a long time, what could I do ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years essentially, a child, I am bereft decisions based on emotions, no gain tortured by my older brother, to think only if I were an only child, tears tell the world of consequences, sorrow each time I look back at my childhood, sad literature would make me a sparrow little boy in London, never glad, mad yes, angry and insane, I need a drink only I go for a run, or just sit under the linden tree and meditate that you may have laughed at a little boy how a little girl in her playhouse lit a match to remember a memory to remember an event past its date I remember disgrace without much joy love is sacred, honest and true, not lies only to suffer loss in a story versions of the truth tease their way to light emptiness is what is missing, long gone you appeared for a momen...

Must be nice to be beautiful and young Maybe, decades ago, I felt the same understanding my future self as mind still as a placid lake, I ache to feel terrible at best, is it all a scheme believe in grains of sand, all seem alike each individual falls on command neutral tones in the fall, only a fool ignorant in folly, wisdom keeps bliss censoriously at arm's length, a lake emerges from below, everywhere calm torrential rain, nobody cares, puddles overwhelming the land, muddy golem better to connect, play ping-pong, paddles engage in symbolic combat, I bless beautiful typhoons in the Pacific empty the mind, palpable as the wind access to the breath of life before death unbelievably naive, in effect timorous as a hanta virus mouse if I could tap a top hat with a wand full of the idea of magic, a tooth underneath a pillow waits for money left in exchange for faith as to amaze answer me why AI sits in a tomb not unaware of the news in Le Monde different but n...