conscious vanguard: July 2010

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

eyes eyes eyes eyes EYES

oh my oh my

the past two days have consisted of this:

and it has been SOHOTTTTTTTT.

thank ((time)) for public fountains.

it's a ton of fun.

and EYE ooooogleee city.

yesterday,

there were these set of very special ones that made my heart skip a beat ('OR TWO)
-or 5....
-or a hund'dred

any who-
i chased them.
and stopped them.
and i think soon.
i will see them again.
crystal blue.
oh my

oh my

i WAN MY HEART TO do th'th''tha' THAT THING AGAIN.

(oh

fuck.).

Saturday, July 3, 2010

on never waiting

on never waiting?
on never and how
THAT'S silly.
about how we just don't know how to do it.
or do we.
fuck If EYE know.
but i do, i do, i absolutely DO
wonder.
and that's enough to give me something, eh?
some - thing.
at least a mind full of space
and pockets filled to the BRIM
with
shag.
with cookies.
with dust from time.
to time.
we go and come,
and this is the pattern,
our brains do that thing,
the cycle,
the rhythm,
the motion, of the planet,
its all the same
.
so THATs why it feels so good
feels so good
to
DANCE.
i understand.
i conquer.
eye dropmyheadinwondER.
the heat is kicking back in.
and our communication is dull
like the plate that shattered but did not
break.
it happened but
it did not.
i am here.
but i am not.
my body is pumping
the
blood
the oxygen
but my feeling
my flame
the flame i would not loose.
the fire i would not dare put out,
it's no where to be found.
(except for in that HEART - but eye cannot let that OUT).
just a figment.
just a glance.
come with me to the park,
and we can lay in the grass,
come with me to space,
and we can float for FLOATINGS SAKE.
the poison we drink.
the poison we eat.
it fumbles our words.
and our letters become toys.
toys that can pleasure
and kill.
toys that are played, not all ways
so well.
our distance is within.
our distance is deep.
holes.
to feel whole.
(that was the flame).
eye think we can do this.
the hope is still there.
at the bottom of my belly,
i get sparks everyday.
i remember those feelings,
they have not gone away.
my brain just clusters
and musters
and exPLORES WITH ALL ITs MIGHT.
and eyeee mighhT.
(you-know?).
the mornings are quiet here.
the streets are desolate.
every one was out LATE last night,
and today is another
fucking beautiful day,
and the trees are pure, they
know better.
they glow so wonderfully, and they say
to me,
i am the beauteee, i am the treee, i love you
and i know you love ME.
rhyming makes my brain feel OK.
and so it
goes.
The day parades its greatness,
as the beings drag their
heavy eyes
and as the sun rises,
so do our souls,
it goes this way naturally,
but our dirt filthy,
and our lights are bare.
barely here.
or barely there.
it may rain oil,
and if that DOES occur,
well,
i want you to love,
and i will see you
soon enough.