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porcupine
USA
193 Posts |
 Posted - Oct 14 2008 : 11:21:40 AM
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I got off in china town and as chris walked away, I began to realize the situation walking past all the shops and bustling
streets. The noises and thought that came across me there, the language is different, its a sea. I walked passed the fish
shop and crowds of people on the nearby sidewalk peered in wafting in the strong smell of fresh fish. Its maybe a school. I
was taken in a back but in awe of this strange situation, walking in circles. I wandered a bit through the streets and found
a silent yogi, sitting in silence. Voices of people nearby told me to give him space. How far were those five feet? Streets
seemed to shift scenery as I took them again, storefronts or entire buildings giving way to new wonders. At the bus stop I
had no money. Something said Brazil, Sao Paulo for a second.
Decided to play guitar in the park, strange tunes and stretching out strings to commentary by the skaters and basketball
players;
Rope, like the 5 foot one picked up on the sidewalk
nonchalant ghost who comes through the bathroom door, killa fo lyfe
same old words always bring me back
its the power!
coalescing on electric gas station signs,
some crazy eyed mystics even discourse like tree roots,
we pass next to eachother and make no false move
how many drummers does it take to eat an apple?
study the symbols in old bridges where bums pick seeds of dreams
from half empty water bottles
and impart clues in Cayenne
closest thing here is a black eyed susan
the slow moving city air, still finding bird feathers and crumbling leaves
he's umm
meditating, shroud on his back, bending down for growing cigarette butts
actors are shakespearian but somewhat less concrete
the tao departed
through bus trips, off one room, second story spilled out
to open windows with no tommorow
Ill arrow nazarro
building the spirit with green eyes
how do these angels get in my head, they think its a cat house?
I'll bring T'ui finds a stray meal in the overgrown shadow
For a moment
new york is a disease that cures where there is no sickness
throwing half notes into the dark, trees forming faces
whittling on a peice of wood
I said spider on my head told me in the light behind the church
Thailand is an immortal bus
where can I borrow a pen?
By the holland bridge, back door portals
snakes.
translators.
I always end up in philadelphia and need another ride.
turning reeses into perfect food
thats what I want
then I recoil from the commercialism
the clouds are food
this is the deepest lesson
look for trees in the park
in the backseat or somewhere near the front
Love brings everything back in place
A guy reading, his head near the moon
my philosophy is time
his is infinite line
between the boards
three thickets of thorns
step over them
climb a tree, yell someones name
I noticed as breath deeply, every one on the bus seemed to not be pushing and shoving but existing with a common goal, just
to get high and chill, it was irrational fear after all, the fear I had as a child. I realized in going this far from my home
I had in a way gone back in time into the lives of those before me. The buddhist temple that I burst into, talking about
datura and changing sites. It was a cayenne pepper by the parkside. I tried to raise 10 more dollars for a bus ticket playing
guitar and dancing in the street. Eventually it all evolved into a strange pattern, flowing down the roads, guitar in hand
and constantly adjusting the woven jacket over my back. I called Talia, thick and in ecstasy from the strange nature of the
koan. Crying because there was no way out. This is the best way to talk it seems like. Each implication reached deep to a
place beyond true differenciation. Every was simply what it was, the moment. I realized she was there, just like before,
saying we always met at nickie's. The cemetary was spiritual, crosses on the sky, and ghosts came bursting through the
bathroom door as confusion was abound. loosen up. They smiled at me, everything was chill and peaceful, we sat and blew
bubbles, sliding down that pole to nirvana.
And they were like 'this is what its like to drop out on a drug', just walking away, caught up in all kinds of reveries. |
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Eat the yellow flowers
