Fissures divide the blushed cheeks of pavement,
Spotted inconsistencies individualizing
Each individual--
Untouched,
But still sharing similar circumstance
And certain fates.
Compassion is not received
But always welcome to such hearts,
Thumping to stale-monotonous deaths.
Weathering wears down their faces,
Unseen day-to-day,
But vividly apparent
In the long run they become!

---

Rimbaud sat beauty on his knees,
But these souls have no limps to grasp;
Trapped in space,
Only to be walked over for being embedded
With the ground as one.

Characterize plights into fathomless expedients,
Make them uninterpretable to other minds;
Ritualize flight into meager daily life--
The tasks--
Meaningless fodder for all!
Seethe the stress in the most inefficient ways,
As to boil over and explode--
No!,
combustion resorts to a lack of consumption--
Certain death.

And i still remain unconvinced as far as atrophy is concerned. This stubborn heart refuses, in absolute, to bend to the will of individuals of the social norm; there will be no folding, it is far to soon for martyrdom! Take your ignorant pride and bring it down to the currants--and behold! you are not yet free of misdeeds, but mayhaps you can see what rests before the path set; there will be no graceful rest, none at all!, but for once there will be an option to move on.

Love transformed to bitter contempt in the matter of days. it has now taken thirteen months to only display contempt with the best of intentions. Very little has felt real to me since then. No. Things have just been stale, trapped in stagnant repugnance.

***

A cool fall breeze, as cool and as brisk as a young lover's kiss--And this sun as warm as the flesh. How desire now brims over these edges, leaving me to swell and to bask in sensuous despair. Lingering still in memory, the patterns of familiar flesh attract like unspeakable dreams. Paper and ink through pen will never be enough to console this wretched heart. Passive whim stems from shy and deep roots, but the breeze continues to tease my limbs through never-ending pride.

Shapes and figures here in academia distort to construct contour lines i crave--Nourishment is what this body needs! Bashful is a failing delirium being overcome now with a consensual-assertive will of unseen prowess form this body. With that, determination blinds when compassion is forgotten, but as forgetful as i can be at times, i still see all laid before this path; it is just rotten and more often than not, difficult to react. And it helps not at all with these peripherals constantly fogged!

I cast a shadow, hardly visible in this time, seeking recognition i hardly deserve. I utter words unworthy of hearing, and i resemble concepts of only blasphemy. The original sin is transformed to resemble my passionate defeat!

Siren, wail your call by stretching your lungs to the brink! Wring your voice to call me over to stranger places, from here with such urgent songs of praise. You are incapable of failure, for wherever you reign, i will hear with ears and taste those ragged perfumes. I must know where you reside!

Your residence, dear siren, is one which holds relevance to masters--The wishful all knowing and all seeing of this world. They perch themselves high above the turmoil of gracious experience. But this is not the place for me, the destitute stale of heaven--True knowledge is not in God, but in the experience of sin as euphoric understanding. I would rather rot one-thousand times in any hell before this path crossed any sort of pearl gates.

Any sense of falling from grace is irrelevant--I would much prefer to knock is reaching hand astray then to meet this fucked God halfway. I will never meet any body, spiritual or not, anywhere near their stale absolution. I will create where masters destroy. I will reside in their shadows and slay their numbing death--And if i am to die, i will wail with such laughter! I will repent only by spitting into a puppet's face, and if the puppeteer unveils, i will crush any sense of satisfaction left with my iron will.

Dualities desecrate our lives. The cards dealt out will be plundered and lost for eternity here, and only creation may stay. The voyants of our time will not be masters, and at the most guides; certainly martyrs and hope-bringers, but never masters! Masters may never fall into their dualities, but they are always ruthless to distribute. Distribution.

Reincarnation is this duality. It is heaven or hell. It is wholly spineless, and forevermore merely pacification. Feed the minds of children, and you have their adolescence. Force adolescents to behave accordingly, and then have the grown-up drones--Fodder for society, and entirely useless for any real progress.

And how does this endearment really work? Eradicate domination and it will not take long to see for one's self. Experience is inevitable if taught to feel it. Everything becomes more clear than what we breathe.

***

Translusive Absolution!
Repulsive display,
Uncanny to the untrained eye,
Even delightfully deceptive to a folly mind.

It reeks of disorder,
Lavender scented absolute-disillusioned;
Reissued vague rememberences,
An assassin of time-
But never passion.

Illusive images so very vivid,
To the source of senses-
It bellows of reprive!
This cautious eye.

***

And now about vices; oh how they accelerate experience in such simple ways--How they enhance the bliss in sin through a boost in whim. it is a trance of sorts that some claim a trap.

Youth is escaping me, age creeping upon my body as a skilled hunter--Timeless and ageless orion marauds my skin of youthful zeal. My pores leek of strain and reek of decay.

And i am only reaching the twentieth year of life.

My joints ache and my skull throbs of tiresome distress. Rest is what i seek, but have reached to no avail. It seems just out of reach at each cornerstone; at this point, i survey my surroundings for a time of peace. The ambiance of silence never lasts for long, and slips past unnoticed.

And beauty speaks before me, seated upon a ledge just out of view. I am unable to properly survey these circumstances. Where are the lines, and are they even worth crossing? I could not just throw away such a reward as yourself, friend. Not for anything.

I seethe with loneliness--And my lovers? Sick to death of fucking nothingness; the very little i have the will to provide. Caught in the net of oblivion, there is nowhere to go but on to everything--The nothingness yet prevails!

Wringing sweet drips of euphoric understanding--How i wish i could secrete such bliss with this heavenly skin! Instead, i bask in sin, looked down upon by my peers in fear. Of what? Rejection? upheaval? Reactionary theorems? Do not glare with such stupefying grins! I can take so little no longer.

A chunk, a sum as a piece of flesh--This is all i am; a lump of memorizing memory and lush experience. This is fine by the likes of me, as a core of desolation; destitute soul by choice alone, but experience only accentuates these finer points in life.

I quite literally have no desire to be with another person as of now. The only sensations driving me revolve around lust. I am bearing an undesirable weight, and how it maddens me! in ways untold. I fear a repeat of past lover's endeavors, and i must admit i will not be ready until my life begins to rapidly cool like this premature autumn. I maintain a certain agony here, in this season, that remains unforeseen; and i lack the experience and knowledge to put it to rest.

The staleness of existance is quite disturbing now, like this paradox called my life--It is blatantly wrecking me. Life will move on and forth as an infinite river, but that makes no difference for the sake of stability and comfort.

I can absorb and digest all that comes my way, but such stale agony never seems to pass. This cruel grasp only tightens.

August 30; 2008

How lonely does the heart become, before it removes itself from the time and place, from hand to hand and mind to sky, trapped in hell--Choking on a martyr's blood--Throbbing in thighs that barely hold the body up against the torments a sole mind could not tolerate.

Some hope to die alone, as to not pass on the bearing, the quell, of rasping lungs drawing the final gasps of life and of hope.

In these times, i become less of the self i knew and more of the person to come--Discrepancies loom! but yet here i remain. This is the sense of adulthood that all must pass through. A smokescreen that blinds until you reach a mist--Moist and sweet, but deceiving at best. Do not worry, it pains even the best!

Orion guides me through the only few acceptable courses. how i wish i could but see the hunter's trying face again.

***

I could spoon feed you the most delightful word, fruitful phrases fueling hopes of better times in places, but instead i should be straight forward about how i feel; I suck the sap of sin from devilish pines--I seek vices, and can honestly be nothing but a vice, without deceiving your pure intentions and youthful ambitions

I seek your smooth reprise of warm and firm flesh, to seek comfort in your grasp--Arm in arm. I want to caress you, scalp to shoulders, down to hips and toes. These finger tips and lips can soothe your essence in unimaginable ways--I touch more than your body! because i seek your soul; there can be absolutely no commitment. This heart is much to ragged for such sequential roles of modern and conventional life. But for those like me, it is acceptable to love more than one soul, remember this!

Ambivalent rides out the storm, seeking many lands when the sea remains calm. The tripics ravage and transform an undying whim of change. Sensations emerge, leading ambivalent to a more and sullen experienced fate.

***
August 31; 2008

I am figuring where i'm going, take which route from here to get there. And when i arrive, i will realize this is only one of many ways and it is not enough. Sometimes the answer cannot be found with your keys or thumb to an automobile, but may simply rest a brisk walk from the home, only one or two miles to go. Take but what we needed to get what is sought in one time.

You see, the key to any prize winning contest is not the who or whence you came, but the constant determination of meaningful goals--And the expedients reach out and take

Departure for better pastures, more suitable for grazing that this mind requires to go onward.

***
September 1; 2008

Intermediate glares back as memory looms, untangible--Memory fades--It blurs along the lines of in and out. Misery feeds on emotion such as the prizes emitted now, gives gifts of such sultry denial! This should be over by now!

Clearly, what is left to face is insurmountable compared to the grace i have already slipped past fate with. It is safe to assume i have hardly scathed the surface of what life truly is.

And yet...I am passing these who are already dead, past their chances and hearty lives worth living--or the lack there of...

Pretty women, oh how you have filled me with joy on a night such as this. Incoherent vision compliments thoughts of a love as pure as the most fresh of snows. I have always and will continue to love you with the deepest depths of this soul. it matters not where you rest on this night, for my thoughts are with you.

Blossoming beauty, you flower as the sun sets and Luna rises above the horizon of dreams--The idea on the fringes of what i deem obtainable and unreachable; The deepest depths of any soul.

Fine liquors, oh how you have stained my canvas of incredulous joy. Withe myself as my witness, if God himself takes me into His arms, i swear on my forgiveness i will slay him on his own grounds. You are a remarkable being--But it si you that will be so fragile--So vulnerable! You sir, stand not even a fleeting chance when coming up against a heart such as this! I have absolutely no faith in your promise of absolution through undying faith.

***

The lingering taste of gin brings me back to Minneapolis, a place of treacherous joy, a place i long to be for my undying love reaches the cityscape's horizons.

Illicit. Will it, but yet remains undone. Yet as in, has been, but is no longer--And a desire survives and thrives, seeking at least the minimum.

I lay in wake. Do you rest in sleep? In dreams? My hopes are the night-world of sleep are about anything but me. A blistering chest suggests to stray away from such blasphemous jest, and hilarity ensures! She can not hold interest in the likes of fools!

The time of Orion-rise nears, and there are promises about i fear cannot be kept. Despite these clear days and amid such vague nights, she often fills the thoughts of my mind, swirling about my skull in more intense ways. That love of my life may never pervade this mind, but i wonder, perhaps, that it does not have to be such a gruesome memory. Those times were filled with a yet to be matched joy. Yet, i wish to be alone.

The newest chapter of this life has been clearly marked with my departure on the 9th of May. It has only really been three months, yet the impact has been substantial. I know not where this will go from this point. I feel as if i am in pieces, and how i place them together while i am staying home will determine things i cannot even yet fathom! Joy will need to be obtained in new ways.

Inspiration leaks down into view from familiar sources, but my view, i fear, has become quite stale with recent familiarity. But there are sources i feel have only begun to emit energy; sources that remain nearly untapped and seem to be pouring of copious potential. There, inspiration beyond recognition fuels my days.

Rest dear friend, your time awaits.

Fleeting fronts of anticipation have been leading this life for these past weeks, and i am drowning my sorrows away! I only seek to relax the sore depths of heart; tranquil desires with such an inescapable depth. Chill, to meet the heart halfway between the moment and serenity--Sincerity! Am i still babbling of such concepts? Of course, set before me, forever more!

Vices set a place of comfort, do not put in a sense of rapture! This is only to keep self-destruction at bay. Vices, and a cool August morning breeze, tasting as sweet as fine liquor and feeling as smooth as soft hands chilling a spineless soul attached to skin and bones.

But the sky has been so clear these past dozen hours or so. What does that leave in store? Perhaps more revelations in the form of verse are to come. Or perhaps flickers of life, scenes of torture will disperse!

I seek happiness, in roundabout ways at times, through the everlasting condescending tones of my peers. Of course, i do not hold grudges, because i know some of their criticism is with the best of intentions; while being criticized by others, their opinions and thoughts are of no use or constructive benefit. Being home, i learn who i want to be apart of my life and who i wish to expel from it. Those who create only hassling demands and impossible expectations are not worth my time. My next prolonged stay here will be fruitful in regards of personal and social growth. Having time away from all of this has shown me what is and is not important.

Monuments of disgust, lusting destructive wreck, will soon meet certain death. It must come fast and will strike with sweet, swift blows. Trust in this, as it will come much sooner than thought by common individuals--Bourgeosie, crooks of a common ancestory, villains of similar descent.

Downward, the sky's wrath shall be released with a quintessential desperation, an effort like no being has ever committed to the likes of civilization. Breathtaking, breathe easy, and heave those lungs until reaching queasy--It is one of few states i trust these days. Dust--It lays in all the places left untouched.

Fleeting fledglings despair in all but rare occasions, licking cracked limps with moist, but soiled, tongues in raging contempt--Temptation. Raize what buildings are left. The time will come to rise.

Sour scorn tares limbs from torn trunks, target the same weakened sapling time and time again! Hearts have limitations that only break all the time, and seeking out the dying still weakened the herd.

These times and these days rest, and they are stored in a familiar haze.

Your mediocre life is disgusting! Play it safe with your wasted time and bills of servitude, but contracts of safety are only temporary.

A most serene sense of endurement is held captive here, not quite alone, but close enough to taste what life would be like. Love has filled my heart and lungs; once again veins pump loving lust and nicotine.

I search again for a place to sell my soul, marketing strategic locations to waste so many hours of my life. With the best of intentions i seek somewhere to conger financial and social resources to benefit and support my next prolonged stay in a place i vowed to never return to. The atmosphere of this place can be dreadful, but it does contain sanctuaries spaced intermediately under the splotches of overcast and shaken dreams. There is hope, but often enough in my two decades of experience, that is not enough. Hope is but a starting point. At least home has this quality.

It is in the shadows of flesh and blood, concrete and steal that these places can be found. They stir here, meticulously, despite the sullen overcast to storms on days such as these.

***

Is it so hard for you to glance out your window, so up high in that skeleton? I wonder what you occupy yourself with while your light rests so stagnantly above this night life.

This mind and these times
Are just right for growing
And will be so ripe so soon,
Come this fall.
And although this season
Has flooded over,
It has met the proper conditions-
Patriots, not
Anarchists, yes.
We are fit for the taking.
Pirates of--This land!
This day and even more
When the sun has gone to rest
Beneath the horizon.
Awaken! Rise from sleep
And lather in the night.
The waxing moon sets the
Seams in soil,
Sow desire above the water
That has drenched the
Already flooded fields.

Flames flicker in between us; six dancing bodies illuminating a porch space that has been a figurine in my life since i was a naive and imaginative child. Smoke that has taken captive of these lungs now lingers about luminescent dreams, weaved from memory to mind and around thoughts lulling about.

Smile wide pretty eyes, because our grins will meet to the death at the end of lavender lavished kisses. Beans of cocoa and coffee seek refuge in our memories clouded with rolled-tobacco cigarettes and tranquil desires. I remember that spending nights alone are over-rated, especially in the wake of such a fog that has moisturized all corners of my skin. It is not my memory that is hazy, it is the future laid before; fate again, i now rest in your hands! This once, please forward your best.

Tragedy sweeps and takes some by surprise. As overwhelming as it seems, enduring is a high priority when pain swells the body. Emotional stimulation seems sullen at best when sorting turmoil from everyday syncronocity. Seething panic feathers out to meet distress, screaming for help; bellow for regression and hope for the sweltering--Meltdown and let all aspects of day bleed into the night.

***

Your gaze pierces thighs to eyes of the passerby. Globes roll back lick the cerebellum for lack of knowledge of what moves on and past the scene before your time. Your voice rings sweet as sour apples rotting below your heart--So tart i would spit it out if ingested, or placed anywhere near these supple lips whispering each word as i spill them out. I lay down the lines of wrath and wraith--Fact, sugar coated to make it easier to bare the taste.

I have been thinking for the past few days that the next couple weeks would be remarkably spontaneous. The last thing i expected was that circumstance would pull me back home. So where i am sitting, in the place i sought out to escape from, starting so long ago until my most recent escape. I have strange priorities, but atht the same time, they make perfect sense--My family, how long i stood on bad terms with them, is important to me now. When my mum called me this AM in a blistering panic, i knew i needed to come back and comfort her whether my grandmother was in a sustainable condition or not. Besides, i am sure my grandmother could use some, or all, of the support she can get.

It is like nothing has changed here. The sense of not belonging still lingers, but despite, i will most likely stay when i return in the fall. Regardless of the flaws this place has, it is a familiar place to base myself for many reasons; the most important being my family.

****

The overcast is scudding above, breaking into fragments and separating enough to let the sky show through. The light reflects off of the building's glass faces as beautifully as it ever has. I believe this is my most favourite place for this weather, and it is most definitely one of the more prestigious qualities of this measly downtown strip.


The foliage is now full, and i recognize an abundance of the faces moving up and down the street, but the unfamiliar strikes me with a curious wondering. The green is awesomely refreshing in the most familiar of ways. And then memory is shaken--I am brought back to the present as the pavement shakes from a passer's footsteps.

These embers lick my lips with such guilty pleasures, guilelessly guiding such a heart into a stupor of eternal plight. I who have seen so little, knows so much! i reach a state of euphoric bliss, eradicating all sorrow in such a serious gaze. I, who fails to feel and see so many wonders, knows exactly what it is that is set before me. God? The Devil himself? These figures are treacherous in their own ways--They mean not a thing to a mind who has reached a pinnacle of understanding in the praxis of modern modesty.

I rest in beds fit for only kings. I seek the breath of only angels. I eat only the most precious of food--All forbidden of the fruits. I wake in holy lights set down for only those who wait, and seek the caress of minds awakened.

Fury blinds and patience reveals the most reveling of pleas. I find peace not in jewels or any crucifix, but in the late rise of Luna from her place of slumber. I find satisfaction in only the most sensuous serenities, secreting secrets from lips to resounding minds through ears that peel with the wake of a sea.

I watch not sunsets, but the darkness swallowing the sky, my body a silhouette on the fall of a natural day. I see clouds wisping, covering into the greatest of storms. I witness birth, as i feel life slipping away with each passing wake. I leer from only what remains to this moment--Gazing, a crashing celestial body from sky to mirroring sea. I feel as if a child would who is brought love and gratification from mother each day.

I see not what certain fuss is about, but instead trust in what each moment has brought to intersect my path. Sometimes, parallel lines viewed from the side are one.

I taste only what i put into mouth these days; nothing more and never less. Sensation cannot be stolen, only the tools to maintain or create certain blockades of mind.

I, who has known too much without seeing enough, can tell the difference between life and death. This fragile scale is quite easy to tip..

I am wide awake in the triumph of hight. I write each line in the bleak lack of light. I am much more than can be seen, and few have felt what the really means.

The hight has erupted into illuminations, casting figures and colorful sensations never seen before, at least not in this reality. The shades and swirl of balance contort perception in all sorts of ways, manifesting a sense of such intense decay, when organisms eat away what has died so long ago, before this day--These days, our days.

Bless you Luna, so late to rise. That jagged side profile from bangs to bust, and the glowing arch of should and of neck. Your lips melt from crest to chin, and the flowing mist coming in from sea brings out your tantalizing eyes and sleek-slender cheeks.

seeking fleshy vestiges, forlorn and sorrowful fate always relates to sin in all but forgotten ways--Even then, they linger around and about. i carry weights unseen, words unheard, and tastes that tempt even the most tantalizing of hearts--To the overbearing day, and through night shine rise and sheen of moon, unsheathed from scabbards--Clouds' airy mist secreting from skin wretching from throat to floor. it spills the contents from the previous sun's begotten sky.

Agonizing! this rotting flesh is not enough for the Earth, for she desires much more than i have given thus far.

"Why let go of such a great mind so soon? Satan has not yet properly prepared to take you to his abode through death--You, dear, have not yet spilled enough of your glory onto the world around, and by being taken down so soon, our tyrant would be easily overthrown."

I will take whatever the devil has to throw my way! It will be converted to something great, for he has nothing on this folly heart of disdain. To him, i am feared greatly like man fears his very own demise. All of his treachury could never amount to what my words have the potential to convey.

Onward i trek, soon to wreck so many established steps--A pyramid of domination set to perpetuate what God has cast down upon us. You almighty chauvinist pig! I will spread my infections to inflict sickness on your system of saintly catechism and death.

"Bow or lose thy head!"

I choose not! I absolutely refuse, for i need not a head to slay your soul while your corpse rest in bed, while you slumber in that fortress at night. Artemis will slide me through the shades. Tantras of words will guide me to your absolute dismay! And, with but a sliver of that luminescent blade, i will strike and pierce your soulless heart.

We move at night.

an update? more prose/poetry

I await an awakening! This ego has tired long ago of such everlasting slumber! The momentum building here is growing restless to discomforting limits. Tedious? Not. Overwhelmingly frustrating at most times, but not without reason or purpose. Everything is quite luicd, but I seem unable to react to anything--At all, ever. Stale, that is what all sensation has grown to, until hours ago--Over a dozen as of now. I have finally seen and conceptualized why this shell is reaching the breaking point. Incubation has very little in store for this body's soul.

***

Mature. Reaching limits.
Dream, of something beyond.
Grow. Exceed all limitations.
Seek. Discover fabrications,
Admire or destroy the seams-
Re-order. Fit any desired purpose.

The mediums at disposal are infinate.
Disposal? No; Resourceful.
Create discreet amounts of waste.
Displace all intentions that get in the way.
Meaningless ambitions are to be tossed,
Let them dissipate and accept no loss.

Gains. Meant for futher insightful gloss-
A protecting layer dispatched from the heart.
A moss,
Grow always facing North.
Direct and guide in unheard of ways.
Although, silence can be just as effective
If given the chance to-

Relay, A sacred message,
Meant to convey all the best of intentions-
Maintaining sensation,
But keeping it from view-
Depending on the blightful sight
Of those who know not what to seek.
Keep a secret. Shush.
Lull.
Resolve will meet all that is saught.

La Crosse to Madison, cut short

La Crosse ended as an amazing experience. Charish and Joel were extremely accomodating in every way possible. Couch Surfing is definately a resources i will utilize in the future--A whole world of new culture and friends are just waiting!

I left LaCrosse sometime after Noon. My planned route was to take the LaCrosse River Trail, Sparta-Elroy trail, and the 400 trail. This is about 70 miles to Reedsburg, where i was going to be finding somewhere to camp. I figured this would be an easy and steady day: 70 miles the first day, 90 the next, and about 20-30 the third morning to Shari's place.

After the LaCrosse River trail in Sparta, it had stated on the entrance sign that the trail had been closed by the DNR. No reason why was listed, so i figured it was okay to just keep on going. At this time, i did not think of what the rains the days before would be doing to hilly terrain, and must i not forget, the local attractions. The spark about the Sparta-Elroy trail are the underground tunnels; The trail was converted from old an old railway line, including the tunnels through some of the hills. If i remember correctly, there are three of them, although i only saw the first. The first tunnel is about 9/10ths of a mile long. There are no lights once inside, and with normal weather outside, it is still very cool and wet the entire way through. I was told that water will drip off of the ceiling and down the cide of the tunnel into small canals, designed to keep water primarily off the walking path.

It was not just wet outside. This was in no way 'normal' weather. Even in LaCrosse, with the Mighty Mississippi, there was flooding off of the trail EVERYWHERE. Too bad i didn't think that this is why the DNR closed the trail. Onward i went through the tunnel, once i got into it. A small portion of the path was washed away, and a small stream needed to be waded through (it was puny, really. i took pictures. i will have them up in a week or so, unless i get another opportunity here in madison, which i doubt.)

The tunnel was not just wet, it seemed almost as if it was raining inside. Apparently, as stated before, the rains from the days before had taken their toll on the landscape. After 9/10ths of a mile, the most scary and exhilirating bike ride of my life--walking part of the way, and bicycling while clipped in the rest of the way--I found out why the DNR closed the trail: mud slides.

As i passed through a bundle of wet muck, and seemingly a misplaced stream, a couple on bikes asked where i was heading to. They advised that i get off the trail before the next tunnel. While i was soaked from walking through the water, tired from lifting my bicycle to avoid too-much mud contact, and enough mud on my entire bicycle up to the hubs to last weeks, i was told the next mudslide was FAR worse, mid-calf through mud at the easiest way through. This couple had to lift their bikes above their waist to avoid mud contact--something i am not capable of with a fully loaded bicycle.

Now, i was riding down the trail thinking of what the couple was telling me, soaked and full of mud. Shortly after the next town, but before the tunnel, I left the trail and climbed the hill on the highway that goes over the tunnel. I checked my map and was immediately irrate. I was on the road for over four hours and was not NEARLY as far along as i should have been. That is fucking it, i thought, only the road from here on out.

I covered almost as much distance in one third of the time on the road, regardless of much more hill there is to deal with. I didn't really mind. WHile climbing hills is not alwasy very much fun, they ALWAYS go back down. All hard work is paid off all the time.

I reached a small town called Union Center. I stopped to urinate and fill my water. I had two hours of touch biking left, atleast, to reach my mark. It was dark all to quickly. As i was preparing to leave, i noticed in the fork in the road i was needing to travel on, visible from the gast station, that the highway i needed to take was detoured...in the opposite direction. I checked my map, estimating which way it could go. The easiest way it could go, taking county roads (which, for the record, it didn't.) was atleast two hours out of the way. FUCK.

I asked the gas station clerk, who also works with the ocunty, how far out of the way the detour went. Exact response, "It doesn't really matter, that road is closed all the way down to Reedsburg. Most of it is under water, especially LaValle"(the town inbetween where i was and Reedsburg, where if you remember, i needed to sleep). So even if i did go around, i would have to sleep somewhere very wet, go atleast 45 miles out of the way, battle 35 mph winds the next day from the direction i was going, and travel even further then planned all while trying to beat the next storm, moving in the next evening. Essentially, i would have to travel much further in perilous conditions, and have no way to avoid the storm(which, if you HAVEN'T heard on the news, is fucking up everything. haha).

Fuck that. I called Shari and she picked me up, having to go 40 some miles out of the way to get where i was, based on the flooding and such. I filled her gas tank, and am still forver in her debt. I have arrived in Madison early.

HAPPY 21 TODAY SHARI!

Minneapolis to La Crosse

Saturday I was done biking by about 5pm. I had that aching sensation that comes before rain, so i found a suitable elevated yard, and then asked the man that lived there if i cou8ld camp on the edge of his property. He said that was fine, and also offered me directions to a park in the next town and the option of setting up my tent in his new-age barn--or a shed, as he called it. I was happy with his yard, so i unloaded and set up as promptly as i could. He had come to talk to me a little bit, and had said he didn't think it was going to rain. it was "too light out" still, and it seemed like the clouds were shifting. But i knew, i just knew. As soon as i was in my tent with all of my gear, it began to rain. It was very light at first, but before long, it was really thunder storming. It hardly stopped until 930AM on sunday.

The pattering of the rain was a subtle comfort, something i have missed, but on occasion the thunder, lightening, or strong gusts of wind would be very unsettling. The dog that lives with this family at just hung out next to my tent all night. It was very interesting, hearing it stir and rub up against the tent every now and again. I knew i was safe with that creature there.

I slept from about 545pm saturday to 830 or 9pm. then, i slept from about 10ish PM until 9AM the next morning, on and off, waking often as usual. Regardless, I slept for a very long time. I saw no point in getting up if it were raining, so i decided there would be no moving until it stopped.

Earlier that day, I said goodbye to Jenna, and was on the road by about 930AM. My temporary farewells to Minneapolis were then, and then passing through St. Paul was a different experience. Interesting, the Twin Cities, how the atmosphere is completely different from one to the other.

The weather was not quite as i expected on Saturday, and it was very bright. I had my sleeves rolled up and what was left of my pasty white arms became very red, irritated, and burned. I was able to get sunblock on before the burns became too severe. That, with a healthy dose of Aloe, have kept my skin from peeling. This is a big deal to me, seriously...

The ride was either extraordinarily pretty or immensely depressing, based on either forest or crop fields. I was not riding along the Mississippi river like i had wanted to, so there was not as much scenery to view as i had hoped. But, i shouldn't complain, because there was plenty to view. It is good to see more than just the beautiful to fully understand the grand scheme of things.

There were no unpleasant dog excursions throughout the day, but i did panic a little bit when a car was riding too close on the shoulder line. I jerked and shouldn't have, but did, weave off of the road a little bit. Typically, it is easy to come back on to the shoulder from the gravel, but there was a decline into a steep ditch and the gravel was very soft. my weight could not be supported, and i fell into the ditch, catching my self in the muck and grimy water with my right forearm. I had gone through the motions in my mind before, expecting to eventually fall like this, so i unclipped my right foot (which is very instinctual for me at this point. sometimes i go through the motion when i stop even when i am not wearing my cleats) and held the bike from toppling aver me with my left foot and leg, catching the backside of my bicycle with my left arm. I came out of that ditch unscathed, but i am sure that if i did not stop my bike it would have rolled over me at least once, leaving me in a very uncomfortable position.

It was nice to be able to stop and take long rests on this ride, and even with the long breaks i would have made it to la crosse a day early! On sunday, after the rain had stopped, i packed up and set off for as far as i could get. I would stop often to water up and rest, and even took two long lunch breaks. after the second lunch break, i knew i was going to get rained on, because the clouds moving in were scary....and i was not far enough to set up camp. i double-checked to assure myself everything was adequately prepared for some serious rainfall. Although this day was the scenic ride, i was saturated to the max. It rained, and i biked, and it rained harder, and i biked. it was great, in a dreadful kind of way. okay, so it was just great, except i worried about my guitar(which is fine).

It became very hilly as i approached the river, and i had reached a destination of mine very early. it was only 5pm, and i had already reached winona....not even three hours from lacrosse. as i went through winona, all i could think of was how beautiful it was (even in the rain). I could see some serious potential, and immediately wanted to move there.

i had called the lady i was going to be staying with in la crosse, asking if it was okay for me to come a night early and stay for two nights, but she had not answered, so i just left her a voice mail. i was going to just hang around or get as far as i could until i heard back from her.

Going through downtown Winona to the bridge i needed to cross was exciting, especially when i got the bridge. "BRIDGE CLOSED". great. the only alternate would be to cross over by la crosse, on the INTERSTATE, which i was avoiding. terrific.

i was randomly biking around downtown, trying to think of what to do, when i finally decided to stop at a cafe to ask for directions. just as i was getting off of my bike, a young man with dreadlocks came out. he immediately was interested, and asked me where i was coming from. The normal routine of question/answer came out, but the whole time i was thinking that i already knew this kid.

"i think i've met you before."
"where are you from?"
"Appleton, WI."
"I've never been there before, but i have been to oshkosh for..."
"Derrick Jensen! You were there, i met you at so-and-so's house!"

And a beautiful relationship commenced. he showed me the bicycle co-op in winona, and we just chatted about all sorts of things. he said he could totally help me out with food and a good place to stay for the night. Out of the deal, he cooked, i showered, and then we just hung out and talked about everything before his friend came home. It was his friends place, so she stayed up with us and talked a bit. She made rhubarb crisp, and we ate it. It was delicious.

Eventually we slept, and the next morning we dispersed after eating. Later on, i was hanging out at the bike co-op with some random punk rock kids, and then the other friends i made came and hung around for awhile. as fun and as stimulating as that was, i felt like it was time to go to la crosse. apparently, there was a ferry crossing the river by the bridge, helping people out for free(or a small fee?) who needed to commute across the river and such. Well the coast-guard decided to say that what this person was doing was illegal, and for every vehicle that was carried across the river, they'd charge 3500(0?) dollars. either way, that is a crock of SHIT.

My other option? take Minnesota highway 61, which turns into I-90, which crosses the river. Talk about intense. The highway itself was fine, you get used to that, but crossing the river on a two-lane (each way) interstate, while trying to take pictures, is fucking scary. there is NO SHOULDER on the bridge. I thought it was funny, after my life was less in jeopardy from putting the camera down.

eventually i made it into lacrosse, and my couch surfing host is basically awesome. I learned some basic gardening skills, and then we washed vegetables and cooked yummy vegan food, and all was right in the world. She is super awesome to talk to/hang out with, and her and the husband(who i haven't met yet) are totally just telling me to make myself at home. i even get my own room! it's pretty exciting. This is definitely another strike to both my "lucky stops" and "great meals".

(i lacked on picture taking on the first two days, but today i made up for it by taking a shit-ton of pictures of the river and bluffs. i will posted them at a later date)

I wrote this near the end of May, but haven't posted it yet. Instead of posting it so far back, i will just leave it at this date.

I am only sharing this because i have held it back for too long. it is not done, at it does no justice to the way this day really went.

********

Literacy can only go so far,
Before hands and these eyes
Take over all talk--And actions scream out-
Well, if a picture contains
At least one thousand words,
Then the time we spent will
Remain remarkably unheard.
You see the fiction and facts, they
Cannot mesh here-
It is as straight as any line will ever be.

Our encounter,
Second to last
Was not met withe
An adequate farewell.
Childish nervous hesitation-
Pervading--Swells of emotion smother-
But the haze never escaped the chest.
Our youth kindled the flame that ached to escape,
But has now tasted fuel,
After this day fully commenced.

***

Sarcastic contradiction fills the air, humorous,
As wonder fills the mind,
Where will these wandering feet go?
Brought down to the grave yard,
transformed to a playground-
Scrapes on blue of concrete and glass,
Tightly knit webs unable to contain certain heights,
The will of burgeoning hearts.
There was no faking sense of fate or amazement.
Genuine uniformity prevailed.

I find you charming,
A beautiful flower with no equal.
Even when that retreat commenced-
The giants threaten to collapse under the stress of the-
Contrast.
White to black,
One horizon to the west, to the next;
but not this.
You are still blooming.
We must cover bleeding hearts,
As to prevent washing away of the momentum,
Carefully mended on this day.

***

Cilantro-
Leading the way to safety.
Race the storm.

Flee to here from rain-
Black fear covers up the sun.
I will sing to you,
Part your clouds and enter in-
Your ache in sky is now mine.

Pervaded the storm,
I now hold your heart so close,
Your comfort reaches,
Outwards; pull me into sea-
I thrive in such sweet clutches.

Forsake no longer,
Nestle so close for comfort-
Our bodies now mend;
Weary minds nearly one-
Safely bask in what has come.

Can you feel?
What we lay here in,
Is surreal.

Do you know,
If what we now feel,
Is sincere?

Believe it.
The lycan is here,
Singing fact.

***

If i kiss your mouth,
Will you melt withe me?
Extend those soft fingers,
Wreathe them withe mine.
Now is the time,
And the setting sun swells the horizon.
We are to our own bidding.
Your copper eyes glow--A lunar eclipse,
And your figure is in deep silhouette-
Savored now in my mind for many years to come.
I cannot get enough of that cunning,
Sly grin.
Take in that precious lust-
Breathe it in as deep as air,
It will commence and strain the lungs,
Overtake the bloodstream-
Divine prospects,
Proving what we have felt since the day we met-
About three weeks to date.
The score is settled now
Between two eager souls.

Hearts frantically skip beats,
And her breath becomes so heavy,
Blooming with unspeakable desire-
I cannot even feel anymore,
So warm!
I am a forge working a jewel!
Oh, but what a fool I am,
To work such unreachable depths;
So deep is her will,
I may never go back to my previous life.
I am pulled in,
Deeper now-
Frightfully content.

Under the surface i can now feel,
It is a pearl,
It blinds my sight.
So smooth and so crisp,
And my skin is clenched-
The grip of clammy hands will not let go.
Please! Never let go! Although,
I must leave these depths,
for now,
Surface comfort will have to suffice.

I shudder at your expense.
I would have given you my entire world,
Had the time been right.
But never let go of this:
That comfort, those dreams...
The everlasting desire to hold you so close.
Out of all honesty,
It felt as if you needed it,
Much more than I.
Your ache was contained for far too long.
Just please remember,
Dear,
I may one day need your arms,
A fine shoulder and chest, then
A precious kiss to seal the wounds,
To heal this patched up heart.

How strange i find your presence,
That transcendent sensation of comfort.
How I long for all you have.
Naturally forthcoming,
There is a delightful connection-
Not quite visible,
But i can taste it in your mouth.
For now,
We must remember the hardest part
Is not saying goodbye,
But it is letting go.
But only,
For now.

Excerpts

The following are simply excerpts from a larger piece i am writing. I am terribly sorry I am not posting it as i go, it feels wrong without it being complete. The things i write on the side will still be posted on the blog here. I don't want anybody to think i have stopped, because it is quite opposite of that.

***

Riveting this pale sense of endearment is the sum of choices that make it all possible today. Cherish your and my expedients, mother dear. I hope, still as an eager child will forever wait, that the world thanks you for bothe your insanity and imminent grasp of reality. Perhaps, with the best of aspirations, we will bothe turn up and correlate on great and influential paths.

However, lucrative thoughts always set in concerning, the above all desire for, comfort. This burning passion turns hope to ash, and never leaving my foresight, the winds carry it all just out of reach. And what of when i do get that comfort? I meet it merely to push it away! I am never happy with what i have, and for this, i curse our selfish ambitions for eternity!

***

The silky sheen of white drips through the window shades, carefully adjusted to perspire very little of each image; inside and out, to the other, and back again. Despite, Artemis can always manage to fix Apollo's gaze to where she pleases. Her hands are suddenly wreathing through the small slits in the window shade, Apollo guiding the way, to grab a desperate hold on the first vulnerable target. I squeal with delight--Oh, how i have been waiting for this moment on this hapless night! I step forward, fall to my unbearably weak knees, and crawl to her presence. I let those fair knuckled and slender fingers wrap around my neck. Artemis begins to wring my flesh as i choke on a curse, blaming my mortal persistence for staying grounded for far too long.

***

I believe that the time for us has come; the stars have lined up in such a way for this recent past. Our lives have fallen apart, in substantially different ways, to enhance our ambitious aspirations for fresh starts in the world. This is our grand opportunity to reach out and to take back what should have been ours so long ago. Like mentioned before, it is inevitable that our paths will cross again, and we will soar--together, for a time.

***

It may be shocking to some of you who are close to me what some of this is about. Others, it will not surprise at all, but will still be very informative as far as intimate and abstract details are concerned. I do not know when this piece will be done, but it is in the works. personal prose and poetry.

Drifting homes have plenty of places to go, and i rest with only what is on my back. At some points i sincerely doubted that this was going to happen. Eventually one finds a place they fit in, and food and shelter will come naturally.

The tactics and vices employed by certain figures are not enough to stop the heart from enacting what is necessary to survive; maintaining sanity and a sense of nutrition. We are a force to be reckoned with.

This summer has become much more planned out that anticipated, but i am happy with the work that i will be doing. Ultimately i am not the kind of person that can lazily lull around and mooch, so i will work for my necessities, but not in a conventional sense. This is about mutual aide and community.

update

pictures posted on the last blog entry. don't miss them!

Eau Claire to Minneapolis

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MMIKE!!!!!!!!!!!



The ride yesterday was long. I finally hit the road and was moving out of Eau Claire at a steady pace just before 8AM. Again, as always, it was all too bearably windy with the added joy of hills. This is a good way to burn more calories and carboydrates then i thought i could possibly have available. The math of it is scary, so i won't even get into it.

Luckily i learned a lesson from the trip to Eau Claire and did not make the same mistake again. I stopped to stretch a total of three times and drank more water in one day than i ever have before. I was hydrated, and i was eating as much as i possibly could.





I was meeting my marks later than i was hoping to, and i arrived in Minneapolis an hour or so later than planned. 105 miles. 13 hours.

Besides for the usual weather conditions, the ride remained fairly uneventful, with a few exceptions. First is the scenery. I took most of the pictures in the late AM and early PM. These pictures do not even scratch the surface of beauty. Passing through old neglected county roads, with a vertical incline of stone, dirt, and trees on the right and then a declining slope into pasture land on the left is quite a sight. There was so much to look at, i won't even begin to describe it here. Go for yourself. If anybody ever really wants to see what Wisconsin is made of, skip the interstate and take all of the county highways.

Other interesting interactions with my new favorite species of animals: canines! Many of these creatures, even when chained, persist on chasing anything that moves. Small dogs are much easier to outrun, and are not much to worry about as previously mentioned. On the other hand, young yellow labs have the stamina and ambition to chase, catch up to, pass, and then to cut you off. Fortunately, this one particular yellow lab was trained to some extent. When i pointed and sternly shouted (while pedaling maliciously, might i add) "NO! BACK!" as it began to cut me off, it immediately backed off.

Thus far, it has been an interesting trip.

Arriving at my destination to see Jenna again, i stretched, unpacked, and washed up. As an excellent hostess always does, Jenna made food; the best tacos ever. To add to the awesomeness, there was vegan-rootbeer (and rum) floats! Delicious...

Sleep was nourishing, but only to a point. I still feel ragged. I suppose i will probably be fine in about three hours....

Capture all fears and pain in the back of the throat, hack them all together, and eject them tastefully from mouth and catch the sum into cupped hands. Analyze the contents - they are not the terror many suspect. Lay them gently to then rest on the soil and work into the land. The sum as anguish will disintegrate into the many forms of nutrients the body held onto for far too long.

Encourage honest experience.
Determined voices have power.
Strive.

Bitter comforts these taste buds, vitalizing the body with a caffeinated sense of enjoyment. Realizations come swift and always unexpectedly. The time spent on conducting this journey and the momentum of traveling steed was not wasted. The deeds conscripted to arrive and this particular point was not at all in vain. All experience is consumed and analyzed by the mind, and later reviewed for vital decision making. I feel choices will be made sooner than later, and the load of racks and shoulders will be greatly reduced. I am filled with joy at this idea. There are no worries.

I find comfort in the strangest of places. I seek happiness where i cannot yet reach.

so soon... so close...

I will reach a point of firm ground soon, even if i must climb perilous cliffs at the beaches of this treacherous sea. I will find a place to lay the clump in my throat from the swelling in my chest and finally put it peacefully to rest.

My chest overflows with sorrow, ribs bulging and heart throbbing for something seemingly unattainable. My dreams are constantly contradicting what desire maintains as my conscious. I am blindfolded, gagged, and my hands are tied behind my back. I am plunged in water, submerged into the tepths of eternal black. I wrestle with panic and delerium, the chance of gulping for air never present. The currant is pulling me. I am tossed and shredded like a leaf in a ravaging storm, and my bindings are then broken. My hands are free. Peel the blindfold from my brown and what do i see? Tell me. It is not azure to orange fucking grey, that is for sure. I see nothing. I see everything only on the vivid canvas of my mind, painted in precious memories and penciled in beginnings. But here, outside, i can see nothing. I merely sense with my eyes the absence of light. Black would be too kind of a pigment to assign to this blasphemous empty vulgarity.

The escape must come. The sea cannot continue forever, and eventually this torso will be supported by hips to legs and feet on firm ground. This is by no means a once again situation. Le me make this clear, pristine as the waters wake i tread in, i will finally have something - somewhere - eventually, to plant my feet down and call home. This journey may kill me, but certain aspects need to die. In the very least, i can say that i tried.

My ears have never popped with the relief of pressure. This leaves a pointless residue; strategies of recovery to supply demand for movement. Only minor shifts in substantial pressure have passed from this skull to other parts of the body, but the sum has always maintained its own sort of equilibrium. The result has always been overwhelming stress, until now. This is the time to be out and to live unconventionally.

Most of the time, living is superficial. Meaningless things comfort the self just so it can eat during waking hours and to sleep at night; motivation to wake and rise and toil at senseless tasks for hours. And these, pitiful Americans, have it so easy! The people on the hierarchy below them suffer so much more, and they are the overwhelming majority. Yes, I am too one of this culture, but as one i observe a certain right. I denounce my faith in the putrid desires most call lives! I spit in the face of constitutional and industrial rights.

Fuck off. This mind numbing sense of serenity is not enough! It has never been and it never will be. I will steal it back. Drifting to the shores from an endless ocean, unable to see, is not enough to stop this ragged doll. Merely as a patched up child, that is the sight i need to steal everything - to begin a process of taking back what belongs to a people, a world, and all life as we know it. You can dump all of these bodies into this sea of sunken desires; some will still find a shore and break their bindings, while others will sprout wings from their backs and rise as angels.

Horns made from shell or bone, we will rally, and the feeling of alone will have to perish.

Love is revolutionary. Love will drag corpses from immortality so that they can lead one happy and mortal life. Love will strike the hearts of the young, the most vulnerable of all ragged minds.

just please, take the empty away. One ray of light is all we need to find shore...

***

Facing certain cords of distress,
Be careful-
Do not pull so hard,
Or my heart and guts will flush-
Flesh will flail onto the pavement,
And once again,
Humpty Dumpty will need to be put back together again.
If you just so happen to pull the correct cord,
I will reveal to you-
Euphoria.
Eureka!
All loves of the world,
And the blemishes covered-
They will be unveiled-
One must prevail
And another may proceed.
Take the chance of the cords,
And one just might succeed.

***

Echinacea-
Revel in the digestive tract.
Show this soul your wrath-
Revitalization.
Share the plan with doubt,
And then coincide.
Everything has a special way,
Of simply,
Working out.

At The Grand Ave. Cafe

As expected, i made the ride very quickly, and although the wind was rough, my body was revitalized from sleep. The wind was gusting awfully, but the height of hills decreased drastically. Being relatively flat, the hills that did reside on the traveled land were light and rolling - there was always more than one.

The highlight of the ride was when i was going west on County Highway CC into Altoona. On the opposite side of the road stood a shitzu. I cautiously watched it, because everybody knows what dogs think when vehicles ride past. Even little dogs can be capable of a lot, so when i started pedalling for my life, i was worried about being hurt or hurting the dog. The chase commenced. The dog began running towards me at the crest of a hill, going down, so naturally i gained a head start. There wouldn't have been anything to worry about, except what i was descending upon was a hill even higher then the first. I was unsure how long i could maintain the momentum and the head start. As ambitious as this pursuing creature was, it was all bark and no bite. It chased after me for much longer then the pair of dogs yesterday, but had quite without ever tasting rubber, steel, or flesh.

Scooter, i think i am going to get some pepper spray before i leave Eau Claire.

***

Ambition Screams,
The tast of stale coffee looms,
Welcome.
Rest here after one-hundred and twenty miles of hard work.
Atleast enjoy the company-
Companions of old,
And seek refuge in the arms of Eau Claire,
City of the Chippewa Valley

Doves

The morning dove has always been a familiar creature to me, and their call stands far above the rest at all times of the day. The birds have been singing for hours now, and the depth and layers of their call suggest they go on for atleast as far as i can hear.

It is chilly this morning, and i have yet to convince myself to rise, although the sooner i leave, the less wind i have to deal with. I have plenty of time to reach my mark today, so i am not worried, but i do need to conserve energy for this evening. There will be no rushing today. This will not be a day of racing the sun from horizon to horizon. I will simply be trying to reach Eau Claire before the next storm does, supposedly by early afternoon.

Farewell Stevens Point

Starting with minor air issues, i made a phone call to Kathy at Appleton Bicycle to help me figure out the issue i was having with my pump valve. Apparently it is a universal (presta/shreider) valve pump, but with the head needs to be adjusted for presta. Veola! I was on the road by 945AM.

Stevens Point was a lot of fun, especially because Kayla and Stacey had decided they were not going to procrastinate just for me! They did their homework before my arrival, which saved them a substantial amount of grief for finals week. Without the grief, there was plenty of time for the rediculous that always ensues in Stevens Point.

Dorm life was great as usual; fun kids, plenty of food, and a good place to sleep. The library, Upper/Lower Debot, studying, popcorn from the stove every night, Schmeakly, wines, being in pain from laughter (and that being the source of a vicious cycle leading to more laughter), and so many other things i could go on and on about.

Having internet access made available the near completion of my solo album, conveniently because Jake was online! I have thanked Jake for making this opportunity possible, but i figured it should be public also. Thank you so much for everything Jacob! I will be posting distro information as it becomes available.

Friendships were strengthened on this stop, but i also made a new friend! Her and i had an interesting connection, which some of my critics may call typical. Despite of what they think, i believe this meeting was special in its own regard. Lesson learned; when somebody is seen every day for several days, and their existance shines with a certain something, talk to them the first chance you get! With that, it was great being able to get to know somebody new. That really fortifies one of the many points of this trip; meeting new people, learning, teaching, to and to become inspired.

Goodbyes are always hard, and the atmosphere at SP was blooming with farewells, sorrow, and relief. The only goodbye i really want to point out is mine to Rachel. Although it is not a goodbye forever, i hope she knows how special she is to me and how significant having those last moments with her are. And Kayla, don't forget, you're like a sister to me! Don't ever forget! Stacey, i will see you in Madtown! Emily, we will rock Minneapolis for a day. The rest of you SP kids will be seen next spring, so good luck with whatever you do and wherever you go.

***

The sun has faded, and the lined paper capturing thought becomes nearly impossible to see. Only vague representations of words can be seen, and it is a struggle to keep them from overlapping. My lids become ever more heavy, and the rest from blinking will soon no longer be adequate for life.

There is an orchestra playing here, and i have a balcony seat above the pit of the musical marsh. The tempo is as steady as the ran can fall, with percussion from gusts of wind and an occasional set of curious footsteps. There is such depth here in this moment, movement in the woodwind and brass, that i would not even fathom trying to describe who plays which instrument. The croaking echoes from section to section, as the chirping backs the bass jumping from one stanza to the next. The trees sway cautiously, very dim shadows licking the ceiling of this shelter, conducting in the most pristine of pieces.

***

When i left Stevens Point this AM, the sky was slightly fuzzy with clouds only on occasion masking the warm sun. Sunblock was not going to be enough today, with relentless rays and my pasty white limbs joining forces to mark the inevitable down.

Heading west, straight into the never ending wind, i wove through small towns with county highways as my thread. The memories and impressions stamped down and left behind will be eternal, despite how small they seem.

The hills began even before i reached US Highway 10. They were steep and appeared often. The wind was now also gusting, preventing the needed building of momentum to go up a hill from the previous downhill. The only relief from the wind was traveling North, but that all ended once i took a detour around a broken bridge. Reaching US-10, it was straight traveling west until reaching my destination of the junctions of US-10 and WI-27/US-12 in Fairchild.

At one point, i was so tired and beaten down from the frivolous climbing of hills and pushing against the wind, doubt set it. I was in a very bleak area, a state forest, with few cars and less roads. It all just looks the same when you start the motions of giving up.

I don't want to do this anymore...
Who can i call to get me...
After Minneapolis, i am going back to Appleton. I cannot deal with this every single day...

But, rationally thinking about it, is there really anything in Appleton for me? With the exception of friends, beaners, the bike store, brewed awakenings, and other places i like to visit, there is an entire world out here! I can't stop here, i can't stop now. What better time than now? What better place to feel better than here?

I was stopping too often to rest. One last time i contemplated stopping early, setting up camp for the night, but i convinced myself to push onwards. I was reaching complete exhaustion when i received another jolt of energy. Pushing on, i was starting to see signs that i was going to be emerging from the premature forest. It actually happened very suddenly. Then there was the junction i was dreaming of all afternoon! And at this junction was a gas station, which i was planning on resting at, even without knowing it resided exactly where i wanted to be. This was the final portion of my attitude adjustment, which needed a serious pivot.

At this gas station, i stopped; refilled my water, stretched, and checked the map. Thirty miles to Eau Claire? I was pumped! It was only 7PM, and despite the conditions and fatigue, i met my goal and exceeded it with 90 miles covered. I called Shari because i was so excited about the good news. The plan was to bike the remainder in the AM and meet Shari at her work before 2PM. But first, my next plan was to find a place to sleep, and fast! The early evening showers were moving in from the west, and i wanted to be pitched before it began.

With my new confidence boost, I traveled for another half an hour or so before deciding on an appropriate spot. I found a sheltered high ground, behind a power station dingus on the opposite side from the road. And, on the low ground, plenty of cover from a light marsh area - residence of the orchestra. The marsh area was just enough to block sight from the house across the street that lay perpendicular to WI-12. Shortly after setting up camp and jumping in the tent, I began to hear the pattering sound that accompanies rain.

Now, the rain falls in sheets following strong gusts of wind. If i do not blow away, i have thirty miles and 15mph winds with 35mph gusts to welcome tomorrow. This is why i pushed so hard in 10 mph winds today; it will make my journey much shorter tomorrow and i will maintain more energy for the festivities tomorrow evening. My trip tomorrow is straight North-West, directly into the wind once again. At least it seems mildly flat in this area.

Brown-Eyed Devil, Catalyst of Dreams

And yet, she robs me in my time of sleep. I leave all weight in the past, and yet she plagues this man, if I can even dare to call myself that. To no ends is she ever satisfied to leave me be. Why did we connect in such a way? I thought that ship's hull was blasted and what we had now rests at the bottom of the deepest darkest sea. But when I wake at night from her company, my suspicion states otherwise. I have had desire, in more times than once for others, but nothing has struck this heart quite like this menace has! Forevermore, will i be entrapped in her iron grip?

Please, oh God Almighty and powerful, release me from these stakes, i can take the restraint no longer! I pray to the devils to take her back to wherever she came. Please oh please, just let me be! The weight from this anguish is more unbearable than any fruitlessness from any existing tree! It is more mistaking than any misdeed to date, and even more forthcoming than any pain that i have yet to face.

Why did i let you, parasite, take residence in my soul? You know the code, can gain access to any port. Fucking wretched beast! Putrid decaying mess! Fleeting and wrecking rest, fore bearer of all that is reeking of distress-Me. This. Alone, without you. Forlorn without your arms, chest, torso, legs, and head. Your body and mine. Happiness becomes illusive, fleeting, when ever my attention is diverged to the likes of you! Curses!

Please, dear of past-devil that is lasting, return to me what is rightfully mine-Please give back what is frightfully divine-Love. And i do not ask for the time spent on you, that is far too much to return. I simply wish for closure to sleep at night.

*****

When Orion departed this season, I feel as though he pointed me in an interesting direction-Towards treachery. This is a direct challenge, a test of my good faith and optimistic will. It is a direct warning to stray not at all, not in any very minuscule amount, from the edge of a knife on this open field of life before me.

Correct. This challenge is mine to take. Accepted. Orion now lowers the tide; temptation and distractions now have more places to reside and more angles for diverse approach. Friend, skilled hunter from above, you are a dangerous fellow, and this is why i choose you above all to watch out for those who would attack from behind.

The seasons change, but no desire flees. Indignation of mind sets in, and it becomes ever more trying to breathe. Suffocation is marginal, because i command the skin to take in more oxygen-Breathe. There will be no death here tonight. Relax.

*****

And then what he seeks cannot be found; not here and not in this time. The will of the forsaken, yet despite the plight of momentous barriers, carries onward. The silk of skin and hands intertwined is only a resting place, because the real work-all desire in all forms, comes from a certain aspect of approach. The nature of seeking is to discover and uncover new ideas-From these, thoughts and change. What he seeks will be found soon enough, but only a portion of the knife's edge will be revealed here. Step back as carefully as possible dear friend, but move quickly and do not even hesitate to look back. Everything you need is upon you, at all times and places, with the exception of this pen-even then, we all knew you were not meant to write what you thought then onto paper. Disintegrate...

Here is the consumption of mind, unable to stop; Euphoria in its most desirable state. Fists rise up and touch the ceiling, the time is coming and it approaches quickly. Squander through the forest, move quickly as to not be seen on the floor clearing! And then despite, the python will strike in the tropical sun. Destiny and desire disintegrate: all that is left is futility, the feeling consuming most of this life all the time. Transition! Rebirth!

My friend, as an egg he waits. He waits to hatch. He waits. When the time and place are just right, he will thrust his beak at the perfect angle. Then, the shell cracked and pecking life was exposed-Festering. Waiting.

Will sleep come? Inevitably.
Will i wake? Undoubtedly.
Will She be there...? One may hope not.

*****

Listen now folly heart, hear now to my demands: open your pitiful eyes and see the cloudless sky cover and splice in half. Directly down the middle, a sick sort of catalyst will emerge. Noon time will follow the Moses-wrecking split in clouds with a hellish glow from above, where no shadows will be cast. Dust and dirt will fall from above, scatter and cover all existence. From sleep, in dreams you will heed such commands-Freeze yourself and watch what comes forth! Emergence of these fire starters will bring the world of dreams much toil, and the police of the land will panic, babies will wail to no end, and the sea will prevail; all bodies of water comforting the fall of all devils who fail to fly. No shadows will be cast.

Oh Father,
Dear Mother,
When will the chance to rest finally come again? Orange-azure fuck to grey; the petulant need for air follows immediately.

"Can't you ever be serious? People are suffering and dying here!"

Simply, Move on and forth. The wings and horns were covered by your clothes, and when i stripped them from your body, those brown eyes glazed my mind-Rotting to fucking nothing, a time consumed mass controlled by the strings of a puppeteer. On you beast, the comfort i gave you and the passion i received. I thought i could help, this pure mind not to be effected by devilish schemes! Why me? Why lock that gaze onto the likes of me?

I thought I made you melt, you fucking priss-I thought you loved as i did.

Wrong again.

Shoulder sink to chest-

Taste that sensual warmth,

Shudder to no end!

Feel perspiring flesh.

Using my body to subdue the mind-

Moan, scream from heart and lungs

Pierce everything that i have!

Sink your teeth into my porous skin, my neck,

Suck me dry tonight.

Goodbye.

*****

Orion sleeps again, leaving me to contest with this head-Mind, ego, and soul; all as one, with or without this body and heart to direct physical direction or circulation of blood and thought.

The cycles never sleep; ever moving, ever changing. Persistance leads on. In one year i have seen so much but have not felt enough.

So here i am.

This body strains from a virus i care nothing of. Besides physical limitations, i feel it not at all. The cavernous dark and wet wipe all doubt from my mind. The heart can do miraculous things when in it resides bats, eyeless fish, and various layers of stratum and sediment. All that can find no other place to run off like water resides here-unseen, swelling with anguish, and waiting.

She will have time to show her face, and i will vanquish her. No hesitation. Her earthy eyes will plead and her smooth arms will swarm her circumference with protest.

And i will be rid of her.

And i will smirk.

Then i may return. I can once again meet the beauty of cerulean. The cellaret of my heart may now truly contain worthy intoxicating vices, and i will welcome the comfort of mother moon and sister stars, for a time. I swear, by the time of next Orion-rise, I will be rid of that Brown-Eyed Devil, catalyst from the caverns of heart and dreams.

Day One

today was the start of my adventure and this new life i am envisioning. i left at about 830 AM, much later than i anticipated, but I also arrived much earlier than expected, at around 130 PM. Five hours and fifty miles, the time i was hoping to make but wasn't expecting.

The ride itself was nice, although the sky was gloomy and it started as sprinkling, to mist, to rain, to everything else in between . After traveling through Fremont, I took this Railroad something or other road, and i found it interesting that such a small road would cross such a highway as State Highway 10. It made me even more curious when the road turned to gravel. Being a couple of miles out of my way, and with my faith in the accuracy of google maps, i decided to keep going. Then i could see Highway 10! I came around a corner, the road being very wooded along the left side, and the road came to a dead-end. Great. The Highway was about 150 feet away, so in hopes of the road continuing on the other side, i continued biking on the grass until i could no longer pedal efficiently. From then on, i walked my fully loaded bicycle along the highway, and then up the small incline to the shoulder of the highway.

So now, i am standing on the shoulder of the highway, where, by the way; pedestrians, bicycles, and other small vehicles are prohibited. And cars are rushing past at overwhelming speeds. My suspicion of the road continuing on the other side was confirmed, so naturally, in between the lanes was a paved connection for vehicles to turn to the opposite side of the highway.
So here i am, riding on the shoulder of a major highway, feeling like a complete idiot, and then pushing myself as hard as i possibly can to avoid being struck.

The rest of the ride went smoothly, and before i knew it, i was with Rachel in Rural, a small town located just south of Waupaca.

Last night i felt very sick before bed. i felt like i wanted to just be done with this trip and go home. In the time of writing this, i thought feeling sick and going to what i can call home is not an option. This is something i need to learn to deal with and move on.

Now i am in Stevens Point, and the gloom that pervaded my mind this morning has subsided. The ride was good today, although i was worried i would get caught in the rain. I pedaled as quickly as i could, but once i could no longer see the sun i began to seriously worry. I made the ride in two and a half hours, more quickly then expected. This expectation was also based on my assumption that the land became more elevated from Waupaca to Stevens Point, which was wrong. I do know that the land will have many more inclines and declines in the next leg of the journey.

The time i spend here is always enjoyable, and i am very happy to be here, and well fed.

On Friday, i leave for Eau Claire, and will arrive there Saturday evening; just in time for Shari's going away party! It is interesting how things always seem to work out for me, at least in some ways.

Two Days.

I have two full days ahead of me before i leave. Dang. I have a lot to accomplish before my departure, and much of it will not get done adequately. I suppose that is how i always have and always will do things. life moves on, get over it.

Sorry to those of you who may have wanted to spend more time with me and didn't. Nobody came out on top in this one, because i did not accomplish many things i wanted to before i left. There was just so much to crunch in so little time. No worries though, i am the one that is leaving, so hopefully things go fine.

Inebriation from air,
I concur.
Meeting us, each other, together,
on another day.
I am flattered.

The air is dense-
thick, but consistent.
Is it just me?
Or did I see it in the sky-
The only blue around,
Residing in your eyes-
Placed so delicately upon the iris,
Despite the vain of overcast.

Now, visibility vanquished,
There is a sea of fog to see-
Bliss and mist.
Fate. Sedation-
We meet again.
Welcome to the palette of torture-
Please, the pleasure of meeting,
It all belongs to you.

Expect nothing,
But heed this warning;
Even the slightest grin is just enough
To amount adequate energy to glisten sight.

Dear this brisk May afternoon,
The blue eyes of sky shining down, clouds in the path of connecting ground and high, i wish for the cool of evening. This sensuous request, if i please the month of May, just one if i may have it. I hope that you will see why before I leave in one week. Please, departure does not mean forgotten.


Happy May Day,
~Billly

Posting out of order

I posted some journal entries and such, but they are dated before the introduction of this blog. This requires a look back, if you are interested. Use the navigation archive on the right side of the window to go to the week of April 20-27, or simply scroll all the way to the bottom of this page, although the new posts will only remain there for a few days.

Jovian Chiron

Jovian is of or pertaining to the planet of Jupiter, or characteristics associated with such. Jupiter is the ruling planet of Sagittarius, my astrological sun sign. Residing in the tenth house, my relentless optimism and burgeoning honesty are most strongly conveyed in the matters of community and influence. Also, my ruling sign of Jupiter is the twins, Gemini. Tending to myself finds that my personal growth and sense of self rest in the hands of teaching. Through that medium, writing, communicating, and learning with others impales my thirst for personal growth. Of course, I have been known to be wordy and impatient with things such as this, which just so happen to be unskillful qualities of Gemini on Jupiter.

Staying true to my character, Chiron comes forth. Chiron was a philosopher, hunter, and healer of ancient Greek. Oddly enough, despite the ill manners of his brethren, this particular centaur had a profound impact on Achilles, Asclepius, Hercules, and Patroclus as their teacher. I make many personal connections with this idea of Chiron(which may be discussed at a later date, but not here), but there is another strand that stands out; The planetoid of Chiron.

Associated as independent with personal questioning, integration of mind and body, and linking the known and unknown, is Chiron--the 'wounded healer' of our time. Placed in the sky as Sagittarius(this is debatable, as the constellation of Centaurus is also sometimes associated with Chiron), his arrow is aimed toward the galactic center of the universe. My sign of Chiron is Cancer, leaving me to teach and express myself through nurturing, and taking on other's suffering and agony. Worthy skills associated with this conjunction are the need to express in a gentle, nurturing, and emotional manner, but when one gets turned awkwardly, erupting tendencies are to become defensive and withdrawn.

I have been this interpretation as much as it has become me. I look to Astrology because it makes sense to me; the associations with some mythical and civilized figures might be useless(they are only examples and figurines for the forces and characteristics behind them. again, they are merely mental representations that sum up what we need them for), but there is no doubt in my mind that celestial bodies play crucial roles in the development of all life. It is nonsensical to me to think that the only force exerted on us by these celestial bodies are radiation and gravity. Where you are born, the season, time of day, the moon cycle, and a plethora of other factors do play a role in determining who we are and what we will become. Of course, i could not rule out socialization and genetics either.

I would not be saying all of this if i did not find it strangely and immensely accurate. Of course, everything is subject to interpretation, so take this in as you must. This is why i am Jovian Chiron.

email test

This is a test post via email, so i will be able to make blog posts from my fone while i am on the road and without access to a computer, which will most times be the case.

Introduction

So, i suppose this is the best time to introduce this blog.

The purpose of this blog is for the people that care to see what my life is becoming in the next weeks, months, and year(s). I will be sharing where i am, encounters with people, enthralling activities i partake in, thoughts that pass my mind, prose, poetry, photographs, and many similar things. I am sure there will be moments of thick updating, and others where the pickings are slim. I am sure i will transfer many things over from my journal to this blog, but i will be posting them to the date i wrote them in my journal. Yes, you can do that on blogspot, but i will notify it in a current post or somehow that i did so, so those of you who are interested, can go back and read.

I am to embark on a journey via bicycle around the country. I will take the essentials with me, accompanied by a few luxuries; the obvious bicycle goods, other obvious things such as clothes, sleeping bag, tent, guitar, music player, and the afore mentioned journal. I will be leaving from Appleton, Wisconsin to (in this approximate order) waupaca, steven's point, eau claire, minneapolis, la crosse, madison, sheboygan, milwaukee, chicago, maybe lower michigan, chicago again, bloomington indiana, columbus ohio, clevland, defiance ohio, western pennsylvania, and then kentucky/tennessee. From there, Around mid-fall i will be shooting for mississippi, lousiana, texas, all the way out to california and then up oregon and washington. This last portion isn't too throughly planned out, but i want to keep it somewhat spontaneous. eventually, i will wiggle my way back to appleton, but exactly when or what i will do afterwards is up to the decisions i make in the near future.

I am leaving on May 9; 2008.

Surface tension

We must communicate in ways to remain unheard - uninterpreted. The poet seeks to contain all pertaining to feeling; of feeling, of passi0on, of thought, all resting behind a cascade of words that will mean nothing to those who do not deserve understanding. Concealment; the taxing flask of imminent struggle tucked into the boot between the lines provided, a sense of alluring confusion rooted deep in the soil of the eyes. A poet seeks to wretch words hardly worth what glows deep in the soul. Desperate times wail for epic decisions; the measures created waste little if nothing is contrived from the muse, for the muse, by the muse.

Bread is manageable, but the heart pumps blood, finickly set, but yet the yeast sets in. Toiling slowly at first, unnoticed to the untrained cerebellum, eventually festering to the point of no return. Demons disperse but the stress sets in, the moisture of winter licking the cracks of pavement-EXPAND-fissures appear, splitting lands of various priests, govenors of qualms and vice. Spring is near.

Liquid of the flask fills the cracks, as spring requires a timely distress to regress, when a quake shakes the flakes of change, sullen memories overcome the hearts of the young. A special instance when bread is most suitable-feed them, and they will come! Rejoice in haphazardly constructed institutions of recovery; reality,it starts and sets again.

Forget the bitter taste of distane! Forget the enticing brace of lace! For heavens fucking sake, forget all you've been taught - it will mean everything to so few so soon. Little do these letters know, they know much more than most. They say perspective says it all, but retro speaks of style. Fantastic shadows cast down on wind sills, the streetlight pervades the space provided - the barricade. The barricade. The sane are nowhere to be found in this resting silence that follows nourishing wet.

I seek much more than what is read in between lines; nouns, the verbs, the adjectives adding to the momentum - The Sun. The rays ensure certain elements of enlightenment, required to embrace what words these pages cannot convey.

Misery has no struggle to overtake so much, but still, somehow, we seem to find a sense of happiness. Feeling alive is sometimes enough. Pushing through, just to get by, day by day- today? The smell of wet wool and polyester saturates the fabric into a blissful state of decay.

I require certain expectations; satisfaction far under-weighs distress, as i seek more sleep than this body has time for. So strange, surreal even, as if feeling the same amounts to any difference in rest...

We cry now, her and i. But her eyes cast a blessing on the spring. On how spring soil seeks to be marshland once again. She thrives; wails and wretches floods upon the land. Irrigation and city sewers will be no match for them. Soon enough. Soon so soon. Enough. Is it enough? Rest now to overcome then, the time will come. Soon enough.

Dispense - disperse many dimensions of change. Diverge from the machines; digress from their will and their words; cavalry of faith and of death.

Finding Alone.

People, faces;
Absorb this time and place,
And the words they speak-
Set the pace,
Wreck on discourse.
They wreck what holds them up.
It is what they seek.
Take what comes forth,
Week at the knees as this might be.
Watch us pass.
Watch them pass.
There they pass, watch-
One after another.
Relax.
This time will not last.
Inevitable fact will pervade the at hand task.

Engaging conversations lack these days. I seek more than what is before me, but i fear i am not looking in a manner that is suitable. I just expect shit to fall down in front of me. Sometimes. There is more i lack and seek, and also unsuitable ways to obtain them are prevalent. I do expect others to come to me. Always. Always. The time has come to change this.

Sickly nerves lust for silky skin; desires, sweet, gentle passion. Fresh, but not new to this fountain of youth.

The body's unrivaled aesthetic toils onward-
Uncharted territories await my arrival-
Of mind and body bound by time,
Materialistic stipulations of one's God and law,
Scenes of saw-
Cutting to raw.
The child's desire is wrecked,
Raped rivers designated to carry tortured souls to their untimely fate.
Maternal instincts left behind,
The body is separated from will,
And the sound of this mill churns air to chill wind.

And yet i seek to regain
What was separated from here,
So long ago.
Indentured servant no longer-
Live by day to day standards
As they stand on the surface,
Pervading all who come to close to -
See a dying son's demise.
Redirection is not desired-
Necessary is Rebirth through reprisal.

Desire does not sleep as sight begins to fade.
And a certain lust awaits when this particular body wakes.

Echoing through these halls looms a voice.
Creation surrogates the will of fate,
Simply by forgetting the steps after birth.
Fading,
Fading.
Screeching a response.
It is not returned.

Garbage suffocates growth,
But this beat manages to surpass the discrete path of discourse beyond the corridor.
Ahead.
As with all enlightened things,
bonds long time lost and forgotten will never be conveyed to meaning.

Ghosts move from place to pace,
the transitions of tracks traveled by those who wish to hear.
See?
The pacifier on ears?

Displace this taste and pleasure as one another converse,
Debate,
And relate experience.
Featured and displeased will the speculators be.
The time for us to leave has come.

Journal Posts: Apr7-14

The following journal entries i'd like to share, but i cannot post them at their proper dates because they are from before the creation of this blog. I am posting this on the 28th of April, but I want it to appear in proper order of the following posts.

April 7; 2008
Satisfaction looms, soaking all with the mist of impermanent joy. The smooth gliding of rubber and pavement accompanies the fresh rattle of a chain while the cold steel is pumped; bellows of the body's forge seek and push the steed to soar. And this body aches, not for being pushed to limits, but for the desire. I long for the coming weeks to leave, and to see her again, in that great city to the west. I wonder what the future will bring. Anticipation looms as it always does.

Times are coming together. Highs and lows mesh and maintain a satisfying intermediate. Methinks that bicycle riding improves the general feel of this life. With the long-awaited arrival of spring, i sometimes think it would be fun to stay here. But then, overwhelmingly, the drive is to leave everything here behind, at least for a time. Then, upon my hopefully short return, to see which companionships are worth the long-term commitments. I can already guess several of them, but only time will tell.

April 8; 2008
Energy conveyed from liquid bean to me results in revitalization, at least for now. I squeeze this moment for all of the momentum it has, but lacking is an adequate amount to keep me surfaced for long. I am set into this content, but not of the bitter taste of just black in my mouth. I almost struggle to keep in mind, positive perspectives keep the head held high.

I want to create, but i feel restrained. Soon enough, the cloud will dissipate. As of now, i can already see a future, although unclear. Anticipation looms like a dangerous storm.

April 9; 2008
My dreams fill with desperation. It shows in desire, panic, and it blinds with lust. It aches and it swells, especially after I awaken. I takes me several hours to recover after each sleep. Disorientation overwhelms my mind as i struggle to adjust to conscious life.

Weave and weave, but where are the baskets I seek to create? I need somewhere to store false hopes and the desire to deceive. Perhaps not so much a desire, but the feeling of desperation. This is mostly because one that claims i can trust is not trustworthy in the least bit. That is partially my undoing, because everybody sleeps in the bed they make. It is for reasons like this that i am leaving this place. I am not happy with who i have become here, and because of that, i fear i will not be able to become the person i seek out deep within. I need to find what i will do with my life. This transition will cost much in the personal loss of many relationships, but to be brutally honest, that is the point. An insurmountable set of relationships and circumstances are the driving forces of my unhappiness. I do not seek to vanquish such conflicts from my mind, because i have learned from them and i do value them, but i feel as if i can no longer remain attached to them in any shape or form. If i were to stay here, i could not remain unattached.

This longing to escape these demons has escalated to points of almost pushing me into uncontrollable frenzy. I have also noticed an increased amount of these same demons everywhere i go. Perhaps they are angels, but it is i the demon; either way, i must leave this life behind to start another. The tragedies i have held onto for so long will not be forgotten, but removed from the weight i carry.

Demons and angels are just words, just figureheads for an example, and what really matters are that all individuals involved in this metaphor become stronger, healthier, and more mature in the end. I sincerely wish that for all of you, whether i like or dislike you and/or your existence.

----

Mutter sensation-
Strange pace and hands over eyes-
Foul taste in mouth;
I am not sure where i am,
It is unclear if i stand.

Vague at best, this night,
Remaining stale in this state-
I jerk with a fright-
There is a light coming forth,
Faster with each second past.

----

This light shines through the mist of a cool night's breath,
Breathing in consignment of wrath-
This is my pain,
I sustain this endurance.

The waxing moon adds to the glow of this hearth-
I am so tired,
But i am alive.
Despite the faith that crosses my fate-
I fall, fail, and tire-
But yet i strive.

Circulation losses momentum in these hands,
But yet on i write-
Desperation thrives.
Overcast of the week vanishes,
With but a trace of fog-
But the day will come in,
With a menacing storm.
Onward I wait,
Forward i drive.

April 14; 2008
Frivolous thoughts-
Forsaken mind.
Coaxed bodies
In the riverbed of time.

Reaching out,
The pores taste air.
Despite the burgeoning frost,
The hand clasps.
No despair.

----

I lust enough to care,
Heavenly sense of enthusiasm.
Blissful cooperation merely for the sensations-
Warmth and compassion.

Restless enough to shake off the desire for sleep.
These open eyes seek more than the bleak white-
This square fortress of civilized life.

----


This high burns my veins with ambition, as treachery lies around every corner. I move forth, dodging the past, progressively passing the shackles. Wrath of the ruling class, monstrous momentum behind their claws. Ruling. Abiding. Ever watching...

Step before myself, and teeter on this edge. The undertow lies below, but i must not to fall in unless sheepishly I choose to taste and waste until the end of my days. I need no drink of dismay.

Forlorn, I feel as if it is, was, necessary for me to dump a large portion of what was left of seasons past over the despairing edge before me. Yes. Now i may complete myself. Now i may erect my potential, hold against the many towering divinities that encompass all that surrounds. They are possessed with my dsimantle and complete removal from this place of rest. But it is here, for now I remain, conciously profound.

Left the unneeded baggage, soon to physically embark on a mental journey. The only taxes to be paid will be those of enforcing charms of charisma and endurance.

Volumes of verse will pay respected dues, well worth and owed. I owe so few and expect my best.

Pretty memories-
Subsequent stout.
Hazy frenzies,
Of laughter and doubt.

I will be hailed delirious before a dire genius.