Something Secret something Deep

Something Secret something Deep

Mindweapon incolor by unixarcade

Rend my flesh from its host, turn to ashes blow into the wind.
Olfactory’s sting as my carbon spins in the mix of air and heat.
The constraint to that which is inverted n squared.
To then be breathed by the living filling them with all that I was, about 6 cents in actual salable minerals.
Two nails per person, some sulfur.
What is the constraint to that which dust devils, spin to cyclones.
As you try to constrain the phenomenon, you see that I am a phenomenon.
Why conceive the sociological structures why dream in all of the sureality of this reality.
So what structures impose your visage, of protein.
Can you imagine your protein structures wrapped double helix?
Imagine the meshing of machine and protein.
I know see with more metallic eyes.
What you imagine you are already becoming the cyborg with no metal parts.
The machines organic, organisms squirm.
Protoplasm being splattered by projectiles at high velocity.
Vampirism occurring to your quantum self.
Demented those not understanding the preliminaries.

Spoiled Confection

Spoiled Confection

My desires, papers false confectionary wonders.
Smell drift light winds pass.
I receive poetry and candies from many.
Many are not wanted.
Few are well received if you had the choice of many one would still be your favorite.

Temperature evasion molecule

Temperature evasion molecule

Idiosyncrasies hidden within ideograms.
Filled with chi.
Chilled in a Kelvin coolant of liquid hydrogen.

The meaningless people

The meaningless people

When you die, mothers cry, are forgotten.
As time passes no one left to remember.
Endless days and night's equinox, and the shadow of the moon.
Full moon lunar eclipse.
Transcending..
Human abortion worthless fetus.
As you all once where.
Chicanery perusing antiques as they slip in the deep pockets of a grand black leather trench.
Trench mouth fools espousing obligations envied.

To divide to frenzy.

To divide to frenzy.

51 by unixarcade

How often our the secret dreams, what refuge.
Our desires our consumption.
Agitated by immorality knowing the false spelling.
Holding a mighty glare what consequence.
Are most in the vast schemes without the support of the populous, no matter how brilliant, how positive
it will mater not.
Tribal scrawling on ares rock, a place I have not yet seen with these living eyes.
I care not I dream about elucidating in meditation how vast we can be.
Condemn me to the social envoirment, and the plithy design.
It matters not the time period we exist within the results are quite predictable as a coin flip.
There may be variations in the coin flipped yet essentially the results are the same.
When people are involved, some form of tomfoolery will occur.
They divide to frenzy.

Triad

Triad

recognizedrecurrsiveinfinitude by unixarcade

Once upon a time, I saw a dreamin time.
Thrice struck lightning.
The sky illuminated by crackling electrons with pulsating polarities not just another nimrod, in was an
incalculable probability.
The child of evolution sitting in trust.
Some equalization must occur.
there is a triad that exists in threes.
Power exists in threes.

Void Sensation

Void Sensation

obliteration by unixarcade

No motion, up, no motion down, no motion, speeding, no acceleration.
Fixated nothing questioning worthless.
Feeling desire.
Random splatter pitter patter.
Footsies falling flitter flatter.
Dark tangent dangling coil.
Clasp clouded clutter.

Witchcraft

Witchcraft

Fireball Hex by unixarcade

In the heart of darkness.
In the heart of night.
You may have met me there.
The wind runs through me.
Standing in front of the moon.
Speaking in dead tongues.
Pulling the coins from the mouths of the dead they are not ready to pass into Elysium.
Looking into the moon and feeling its draw.
Something stirring under my skin I hear a calling.
Drawing a triangle in the sand with slit finger and blood.
Power unknown to the hands of men.
Scrawling in the air patterns of power.
Emotions doing the pushing, casting feeling, tasting.

Working Girls

Working Girls

Working Girls are not soulless whores served for your concession.
There little girls with tons of heart with concrete walls you see.
They hide there fragility from the jacks of the world, the ones that do them harm.
I do surmise by the look in her eyes that she cries her lonely eyes, because the kindness
she Seeks is not between sheets.

Thanks

I bring you this work it shares a part of ourselve that I think many have forgotten has ever happened.
I know that in all people are these dreams that are still hiding in the dark that they thought they
killed.
Keep dreaming.





Thanks
http://www.iamluminosity.us
http://luminosity.livejournal.com