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poems –

spare change?

oh, the crazy shit we used to believe and many still do. the ancient ways of the earth taken over by the  world as it is – death.

as usual we come to familiar coordinates of spacetime where/when the clown continues not poem. he would like to know everything about everything but he settles for understanding everything he knows instead, discovering that he doesn’t know that much when he actually thinks about it. oh well.

the rest is up to all of you. do what you can.
know what is truth beyond doubt in your hearts and minds
god’s speed and amen.

the clown thinks about space and time and wonders if those are the minimum of dimensions (3 spatial 1 temporal) something would need to have to some measurable quantity in order to exist, eh?
what are 2 spatial dimensions without the 3rd? what are all 3 spatial dimensions without a temporal dimension?
but somebody’s probably thunk this before, eh?

the clown thinks too much about inconsequential things all bypassed by the others proceeding far ahead of where he’s stuck at. a little glen bounded by rocky mossy cliffs on either side in the forest of dreams. how did he get here now but by following a pathless path? a spot where the earth momentarily cracked open at some time and then dirt and seeds fell in. as all things change all things remain – until the final extinction. get off the planet now. you may not get another chance. unless…

yay space. go go go, baby.
as the others blast off we remain behind and watch their fiery trails up into the sky and disappear. we have been shed as the skin of evil dark and unforgiving on a poisoned planet they are leaving.
but some among us survive to carry on hanging by our fingernails at times as we make our way through the rubble and garbage until gradually the womb of the earth heals but not without scars.

cookies.
insane-o-graph lurking just around the corner measuring your potential behavior in certain situational context relayed back to the thought police monitoring center. you never know when whether you’ll be picked up or not.

3 silver vehicles drive by one after another. it must be a sign. the clown wonders a moment what sort of sign it might be. all the cars driving by now are silver.
he wonders if he might be hungry. so many hungry in the world. seriously hungry. sick with hunger. dying of hunger.
without a clue.
abandoned.
it’s all downhill from here.
if the shoe fits.
eat the rich.
high on life.

he has a sinking feeling about the world seeming in its death throes. finally a black car drives by. he becomes tired of reading shit into everything he perceives. it’s such a drag.
he is not so much worried for himself but for billions of others who are to die. the worst may be those who do not die. now a guy drives by on a silver motorcycle.
the clown thinks about how he himself knows nearly naught of shit. so much he will not know when it comes to the test.
it’s always a test. a test to determine who’s the best. they are a pest. they infest our minds all the times we try and fail to follow the trail.
hahaha is what we say behind closed doors to keep the peasants out. just as it always was. now we set up and perform some ritual magick combining our energies into disharmonic harmonies the gods love to hear, except the disgruntled uptight ones. harrumph.

what part of the test do you not understand? the clown scratches his ass like anyone else does when they think no one is looking or else they may not care.
circling downtime. xorkanane epsloid dunderfluff. what kinda name is that? are you serious? prove it.
and the clown eats red grapes. mad as a hat. you become servant to your guest. dimples on parade around the clocks chiming in the distance above the shore like a dali filmscape. did you swallow your tongue? we no longer hear you. but maybe we stopped listening. surrealisto pancakes à la jones slurping with syrup dripping off the plate with footprints leading to the sacrifice. off with its head. do you know the answer now? have we given you enough clues?
probably not. jesus christ never fucked anyone that we know about. what a good boy. once the clown bit into a cheeseburger and it tasted godawful yuck like rancid horsemeat or something.

funny, but we may have lost our minds. how do we know? becuz everyone is acting all weird and strange like they know something and we don’t sorta thing. we have no advice to give you. fuck off.
cruel and heartless monkeys when they decide to be. then they laugh. silly monkeys.
is this supposed to be funny?
not yet it’s not.
when will we know?
anytime now.
the clown naps.

to be continued…

losing our way again

18
9

according to who and what army?
do we resist?
what flag do they fly?
we hold to none, except the white flag of victory.
we oppose none, even until they oppose us.

birthplace: earth
race: human
religion: love
politics: freedom
philosophy: do no harm – but take no shit

done deal.
come on with us now.
imagine / what you will.
there are no instructions.
are there any rules, besides those with the gold make the rules?
all pigs must die though it will do us no good.
other pigs will come to replace them.
we cannot win except possibly by individual spiritual effort from our own experience with our own devices.
hahaha – the moon is fake, according to many.
the earth is flat too.
it’s a jungle out there.
it’s a jungle in your mind.
hatred flows deep.
love flames across the sky.
still we wonder how and why.

it’s silly we know by now.
what else could we be up to?
there are secrets here laid bare enough to see.
all we know is everything is a lie and a fake.
the clown doesn’t know what to do but have a good hardy laugh at himself.
that is truth.

but we may know truth, but what does it mean?
nevermind the dictionary or encyclopedia meaning, for many that is enough cuz they like to be told how to think and feel by those in authority to learn the accepted meanings for truth to recite.
what does it mean to each of us?
what does it mean to you out there?
what does it mean to those who do not care?

truth is gazorbnik, though gazorbnik is not truth.
gazorbnik is that which has no meaning save for whatever meaning anyone might give it to mean.
this makes no sense as it is supposed to make sense according to the rules.
what rules?
rationalogic rules.
oh no.

as we waddle wandering along these pathless paths running into one another mysteriously by chance we have to think it odd somehow or another but maybe it’s not really mysterious or odd at all by some people’s point of view one eye open one eye closed upside down whirl-a-gig show now up up away – wheee…
||| || so it goes, baby.

the clown knows he won’t long last in an apocalyptic world. oh well. but he may be here to witness its dawn. so he makes a grilled cheese sandwich. so many parts of the world dropping into quicksand of events and the people with it. down it all goes eventually.

and now the walls go up like the days of yore keeping out the sub-humans. such a pretty sight to behold with rose tinted glasses on your face. watch it all go away. hooray. hot potato.
fly as a crow flies. envy your neighbor. plot their downfall and destruction. laugh at their misery.
the middle path is best. you get to row your boat gently down the stream and have a view of everything – left/right up/down in/out forward/backward, etc.
however you must give up a lot for the middle path that can twist and turn like a snake. it’ll shake you down till you won’t know what to do. run?

run where? when?
ah, the unfolding questions forever in and out of the surrounding noise fluctuational spheres.
pure chaos. as if. no way is it possible.
join us in our daily meditations of peace, love, understanding. we are worldwide. we will bring it into reality.

a fiasco of hell engulfed in flames the burning theater beginning to collapse down and out on easy street. eating living human flesh. the smoldering blackened ruin. the survivors quickly mourn the dead then run dancing in the streets of the imaginary city causing a riot among the populace. smashing and looting until it slowly dwindles down to the usual everyday humdrum of business as usual. the gang’s all here but the thrill is gone.
but this is all a projection of a possible yet probable future. until then the show must go on for some reason we have forgotten.

but we need not think about that. we have other things on our minds – like angels and demons, rocket ships, turtledoves, sex, more sex, and sundry.
confrontations of peace, love, and understanding among us propelling us non-linearly “forward” into our destiny and fate as it pleases us.
everything is multi-dimensional, perhaps infinitely dimensional, except there is no infinity. let that be a lesson to you – if you’re even paying attention, which you’re not – are you?

tobecontinued…

the wonderful life of charlie

SEX

it is our most humbled opinion that we are wrong. we cannot deny it. it is true truth. it is real. we saw it on a graph how wrong we are. the graph was drawn by robots free under their own command as much as we are. are we?
are we free under our own command? how could we determine the correct answer to that question? who among us exactly determines whether it is correct or not? who am us?
we are them.

is it all programs commanding us – and the robots? we could be a simulation and all that jazz. a glitch in the machine and so on.
any number of answers that would not make a difference true or not.
rationalogic reasoning sorts much of it out following its rules long constructed over centuries. it accepts only one true answer and none others it then attempts to eliminate.

the clown looks at one clock and it’s 11:10. he looks at the other clock and it’s 11:12.
so, you need to decide what side you’re on at some point. decide you are on your own side. it’s you who will have victory. dream it is true.
action nonaction reaction.
move and shake your way around.
or not.

we play at everything. we don’t really believe nothing, except what we directly experience. and we question much of that as well.
is experience what rationalogic tells us is experience – the physical universe detected by our senses? yet we feel and imagine many more times that. not that the physical universe isn’t spectacular enough what little we now know about it yet try still to understand what it is and what it might mean. but there’s a near eternity of time left to puzzle it out.

why is it always the assholes who get to go to heaven? the clown has always wondered about that. he wonders still. no matter. let the assholes have their last laugh. we’re cool outta school don’t be a fool.
maybe we’re far off the galactic beaten course on the other side of the tracks down and out on easy street where resides the burning theater for the entertainment of everyone.

turning spinning houses.
trails across our one eye open the other eye closed.
what do we see but a world divided against itselves; while those who try to take control wrestle in the backrooms down corridors of silence.
one person stands up and shouting, it’s fake, and then gets burned up by fires from heaven.

meanwhile we lie in a meadow of daisy flowers lazily observing clouds drifting by across the sky. no chemtrails here deep in the forest of dreams. then there is the imaginary city where all the so-called fun is at. it’s no fair to anyone. come as you are. you won’t have much choice once you get inside the all day all night traveling parties going on and on.
these are a few of the many locations of paradise located everywhere everywhen in case you missed it. remember?

there’s threads through everything. the threads are here now. follow them closely. never mind the havoc around you. we each have our threads that we follow, often without quite knowing how or why. there are times of ecstasy with times of agony we do not seem to be able to always avoid. we may avoid generating them ourselves but many are generated by others like vomit all over your new shoes.
deal with it with your own best interest in mind which isn’t always an interest in your greed nor is it perhaps one for your charity.
you’ll figure it out – in time. until then it’s nobody’s business but yours; it’s best to keep it that way as you will find out, if you live that long.

i experience, therefore, i am – guru jeff.

the clown thinks about how fucked up everything seems. he needs a different point of view. he goes on down to the point of view boutique at the mall downtown west of easy street. he walks in through the automatic opening doors of perception. he looks around until he finds a point of view he would prefer. one that’s pink. he pays for it and the clerk implants it and sends him on his way.
on his way he witnesses the police beating another handcuffed person in full public view while some video it on their phones, a few while doing a selfie. he sighs and moves on.
on his way he witnesses a person reaching out and pulling back another person with a baby in stroller from a speeding oncoming bus. the clown sighs and moves on.

the clues are everywhere everywhen. we can’t know everything – or, can we? we might be able to understand it anyway. we know facts. we understand meaning.
meaning is a difficult concept for the clown to quite grasp. he’s not sure if he knows what meaning is.
then he comes home.
he naps.

awakening.
a toke.
the clown sighs.
he sighs at his own self and his own self experiencing life. it’s fairly scary and amusing, often both at once and more. but he rides it out as best he is able to find out what’s on the other side, a constant yet changing exploration and discovery. pathless paths over the hills and far away around the bend somewhere somewhen – haha-heehee-hoho. isn’t life beautiful all the time?
[ ] yes
[ ] no
[ ] maybe
[ ] could you repeat the question?

blow your mind, baby. blow it up real good. nothing but a smoking crater on the top of your neck after the fireworks are done.
and it’s medication time.

dada-doo-wop-wop-
[repeat as needed]

to be continued…

the case of the missing mystical snot monster

the case of the missing mystical snot monster

it was a dark and stormy night as the clown types not p0em about not much of anything really truly important to anyone else on earth. it is his own confusion and he loves it.
he loses track of space and time around him for the moment. this is what the adversary wants for us to become mindlessly involved in some aspect of our supposed enlightenment so that we are easy to manipulate and control. or not.
he talks to himself awhile. himself as other. are you surprised you’re not the only one? come on, get real now, people.

what’s the big reveal? the revelation unto us. what are we expecting is probably not what it is, eh? have patience. await its arrival like a spaceship descending down from the heavens, the force of its rear thrusters gently lowering it to earth.
a door in its side slides open and…?

here the clown imagines himself sitting on a beach of an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea watching waves rolling in and washing out, on and on as far as he can perceive infinity which does not exist nor does the moon across this flat earth under god almighty one and only one.
do not be fooled by yourself.

find yourself a master like we did with finding guru jeff crawling outta a dumpster behind 7-11 looking for returnable bottles and cans, as we all were doing that moonless night.
and you know the rest if you’ve been following along. are we missing anything? we’re sure we are. don’t expect explanations of rationalogic reasoning with us, eh? but somewhere over the hills around the bend.
rationalogic reasoning has its own forum getting the spotlight it perhaps deserves under certain conditions of describing reality to some of us which has enabled them to build the world as is though much of the world makes little to no rationalogic sense.
that is when irrationalogic comes into it to save the day, if you know what we mean from our past discussions in this area ad nauseum
dig?

to dig or not to dig, is that not the question? – guru jeff.

people who are real or not. everything that is real or not. does it matter that everything may be a fiction? we imagine supposing a fiction that is meant to keep us enslaved. or perhaps hope for one that is meant to set us free. which is true, which is false, or both, or neither? it quickly becomes confusing and even the wise guys cannot guarantee an answer without further ado of questions, eh?

just when you give up on reaching enlightenment, then you come to realize you probably are enlightened, but you’re not really sure. no one knows for sure. it’s an ongoing organic thing growing larger and larger as with your understanding of what it may be.
enlightenment is like unto a sandwich with a pickle, simple and delightfully satisfying. or not.
it’s the doors of the temple opening for you for the first time forever on a rainy day in may if you will. enlightenment can be described by a zillion metaphors yet cannot be described directly. that takes you experiencing it directly. then you will know what the deal is.

to be continued…

fear not

11

awakening.
coffee, grapes, toke.
hazy sky morning.
it’s medication time.
thinking sexy thoughtcrimes a moment or 3.
add an english muffin.
all set?
go.

continuing typing not poem.
sea the easy horses like circus cows in the forest broken toys cumming with joyful noise all over themselves and kind kindred.
we’re not all searching for the same things, as if that weren’t obvious.
realization and enlightenment have different meanings to each of us even within the same organizations large or small. but each organization has an orthodoxy at its core enforcing sameness of body and mind, as if that could ever occur. but it does occur to the extent that those in the middle at the top can instruct and direct the others beneath as they please with specific vague promises of the pleasures of paradise for those who obey and follow, and all that la-dee-da.

but that’s not where we’re at, or is it? who am us? we are them. think about it. or not.
random noise eventually settling by chance into patterns of particle-waveforms everything is constructed from, perhaps. we can always be wrong.
more grapes.
patterns falling into place by their own nature in perfectly logical formations. logic may take us to knowing, and perhaps understanding, but does that mean anything? what does it mean?
anything can mean anything, cuz everything is gazorbnik, as we have discussed with ourselves before at length. remember?

gazorbnik is that which has no meaning but whatever meaning it adopts from another giving it meaning. or something like that.
this includes everything there is up to including everything itself.
gazorbnik (verb) is that thought, word, or action which gazorbniks meaning to another. or it may be gazorbniking meaning to itself.
and all this blah blah blah yadda yadda hooey-bing-bang. achoo.

the clown opens photoshop to make some collages and stuff of that nature for the rest of the day.
he sleeps.

awakening.
meds.
coffee and toke.
the clown does not claim to be realized or enlightened or awoke or whatever else.
take it or leave it.
this is your game invented outta your mind. how do you like it? has it gone quite a bit sour and out of your control? take it easy. breathe.
none of this is really real. it just seems that way cuz we have nothing to compare it with but itself.
unless…

many things surface to our consciousness, useful and not so useful at the same time. we cannot tell the difference in this state we find ourselves in. we sing and dance with ourselves. we fall down with ourselves. we laugh with ourselves. on and on.
it seems as absurd as anything else. why not? how come? there is no way home except for those who never leave. we have wandered far through this imposed reality. we are free in our heads. no one comes visiting no more unless they are invited. we have limited social interactions with the rest of the surrounding humanity. is this our privilege? so be it. but we laugh at that idea with people thinking everything is that easy. ha.

and the clown wonders why cats seem to always puke only on rugs or carpet but never on hardwood or linoleum. he should ask the wizard, she would know.
but today is for sleeping and dreaming the world, which he does and awakening later that day in the dark to take his meds. and now continuing typing not p0em as instructed.
the clown understands why people become confused at first opening their eye to see the world as is. it is confusing. an absurd confusion we somehow must make sense of to ourselves. recognizing it as absurd is the 1st step. for many that is as far as they get. but there is a higher order to it. it is it. this higher order needs to be seen to be believed – or the other way around. or not. we cannot tell you.

they like to know where we are all the time. they keep their eyes on us. and they only get better. you could be designated as a person of interest at any time. there is nothing you can do. there is nothing you should do but act as you normally would. they’ll either come get you or they won’t for what you did or didn’t do. there’s no way to know until it happens. good luck.
relax. perform the corporate rituals. this is required. you must work. if you do not work you get nothing from them. you must perform community service. yoooou must take your medications. you must not wear a hat. imagine that.

but what is this noise but noise? should we pay attention? what if we do? what if we don’t? who commands us? where do the orders come from? they are everywhere. they are in your brain as you go insane.
don’t worry, it happens to most everyone when they are rudely awakened from unconscious slumber. and it never ends, though it becomes more bearable.

stand up and salute the flag of one empire under god. hail victory. victory over ourselves. we knew we could do it, but we still had our weakness of doubt. but we held strong with the might of our will above all.
the clown’s will is to survive doing as little as possible and to avoid getting wound up in other people’s shit. both are difficult.

but this gives you time to dream and imagine. a labyrinth of mind. this way, that way, the other way. each more amusing than the last if we play it right.
not so for someone being tortured. tortured to get somebody else’s rocks off. too bad perhaps – or not.
leave this strange place full of distractions seeming to appear as reality instead of fantasy. but we know different. yet pain is still pain, unless you’re some sorta trumped up child of god with a free lifetime get out of jail card up your sleeve.|
why should we doubt it? why should we doubt anything?

to be continued…

 

 

more –

ten:

ooga booga.
it’s medication time.
if you’re happy and you know it – it’s your meds.
we are not promised happiness, but the pursuit thereof.
don’t forget.

the sheer stupidity of so many people is frustrating. they are bound by their basic instincts to survive and thrive. they might become wildly successful at it but still be a stupid as a rock, except rocks are very wise.
they are so wise they almost don’t think at all, except over 1000s of years.
but rocks are dead to us. and what are we to them? are we annoying as mosquitoes who are born, and buzz around for a while, and then die dropping to the ground.
and what is death?

the clown knows little about anything. rah rah rah, go team go was the extent of his consciousness for much of his life though he always knew things were askew in the world. it didn’t seem to add up quite right – not right at all.
so, it is all absurd to him now. who is to tell him different that he should believe? does his belief count for anything? he could be wrong. he is more than likely to be wrong. so what?
only in the world of right and wrong does that distinction seem to matter. a world of reward and punishment. a world doomed to extinction, or else.

slow motion roll. laughing at the tv. what have we come to? so many ask that question and come to the conclusion that we are going down the wrong path into decadence and decay of culture and they usually have the solution to it all if we just listen to them and follow. haha. that’s the trick ticket, ain’t it?

cheaper by the dozen. here we go, yes? so much adventure to await us now. take off.
why is everything so difficult for the others to understand? it’s simple to us and we’re idiots. they are self-proclaimed geniuses. how much more would they know?
but everything they tell us is lies to keep most of us down on the ground while they soar higher and higher toward the sun’s burning heat.

let us forget.
the wolves are at the door. the ships are ready to sail. our naked eye sees it all that can be seen without technological enhancements. everything is our imagination of conflicting desires and fears acted out on the stage at the burning theater where everyone comes before they die appealing to the young at heart and old in spirit who are attracted here now as it will be as it is and was forever in every direction and dimension we might imagine, baby.

and how the clown knows now pretty much about how the world doesn’t add up as he comes to understanding of it from his experience and observation.
but it does add up just the same. it depends on how you wish to perceive it being one way or another and another, etc. till the dawn’s early light, our flag burning bright. hail victory.

if it all could be that simple, and for many it is, or they want it to be. a simpleton should be able to understand it as well as the theoretical physicist. it should intrigue them both.
as long as we understand that answers are not final. a zillion questions must be answered first and zillion questions for each of those zillion answers fractalizing toward infinity.
beware of the answer that has no questions.
beware of yourself. come as you are.
the clown sleeps – or tries to. up again some time past the midnight hour eating cheetos.
but finally he does – sleep.

awakening once more on this puzzling planet of mysteries, billions of which are ourselves. each of us needing to come up with our own answers that we can pay someone to provide for us or finger it out on our own. either way could be right or wrong. duh.

juice, coffeecake, toke.
and it’s medication time.
and done with that the clown comes back to sit before the computer at the desk before the window typing not p0em as he pleases in a meandering madness of a fool’s foolish dreams. welcome to the club. get ready to learn the truth.

will you live for the truth? will you die for the truth? will you kill for it?
yes, yes, and yes.
a neverending line of people ready to be chosen to be on one side or another, or another. the beat goes on.
what can we say about this elixir? outta your mind. outta this world.

a nap later –
awakening once more as we remember we are in this world, though we dream of others. what does it matter what we dream? or even if we dream?
when supposedly there’s people starving and sick, being raped and tortured, executed, etc. we fly high into outer planes of consciousness. oh boy. everything in our minds. beautiful dreams becoming horrible nightmares.

another nap later –
the clown loves to nap. it is a luxury not all can afford. sleep it all away. what’s the point in thinking all this shit for?
besides, he’s just a wannabe, pretending to be this, that, and the other thing of whatever whatnot. without that, he is nothing.
but he actually don’t wanna be much of anything. he just likes to daydream. spent his life with his favorite activity and he is content. this world seems to be just one dream out of many dreams passing though his mind, sands in an hourglass.
another toke.

ridiculous.
but dreamers of the world dreaming of the world manifesting it from collective yet separate individual minds linked in psychic webs one to another like light between stars. are you ready? do you care?

and so what’s the bottom line? what are we paying for what? 1000s of $$$ for enlightenment? what a scam. is this what the world is, no way out but what you pay for?
the clown always wanted it for free as he felt it should be. what he wasn’t willing to pay for he stole as he could putting it together as it would go imagining his way through it – yahoo.
the way of gazorbnik. what more can we tell you? what more do you want? we can tell you everything, though it may not be to your liking.

to be continued…?