THE MEDIUM

an orb, spinning on a grain of sand, all the girth of which- distances, by equal equation, the platform of its fixed point of rotation in constant velocity from the light of its source. v.

the madness of futility will manifest, from dreaming, in the minds of those who think there is Meaning... we are just gleaning for Being.. seeing is a product of the senses that, in this realm, operate in the limiting manner of our species' celestial mechanics; thus, we seek "others" that consent to our own delusions of immersive introspection, and when that is not forthcoming, we are thrown into entropy and chaos....... the secret is Stillness of Mind and hearts with unending and limitless forgiveness and understanding. v..

Standby. your'e on the air. buenos noches senores y senoras. bienvenidos. la primera pregunta es: que es mas macho, pineapple o knife? well, lets see. my guess is that a pineapple is more macho A knife. si! correcto! pineapple es mas macho que knife. la segunda pregunta es: que es mas macho, lightbulb o schoolbus? uh, lightbulb? no! lo siento, schoolbus es mas macho que lightbulb. gra And well be back in un momento. well I had a dream and in it I went to a little town and all the girls in town were named betty. and they were singing: doo doo doo doo doo. doo doo doo doo doo Desire! its cold as ice and then its hot as fire. ah desire! first its red and then its blue. and everytime I see an iceberg it reminds me of you. doo doo doo doo doo. doo doo doo doo doo. que es mas macho iceberg or volcano? get the blanket from the bedroom we can go walking once again. down in the bayou where our sweet love first began. Im thinking back to when I was a child - way back When I was a tot. when I...

I am the safe infant to nihilists, for this is final manifestation. the child is cast from the tower. the results are ambiguous. we, still, cannot see tomorrow we, still, cannot remember yesterday. these are the words: asa nisi masa......... the moon is up........ the clouds hold us here....... and no one is listening........... this is the spell: Hear my heart beating in your chest...... Feel my blood rushing to earth........ See my eyes in your eyes and yours in mine......

A small Corner of the universe becomes the All we Know. In a corner of the corner, where there seemed only one, were countless corners, around which were countless corridors, filled with locked and unlocked doors, falling about one another, turning and falling; and those inside them holding to the walls,                                                     for fear of falling through space and time                                                     into the doors of...

The poet is done seeing by a length, viewing from an immense and reasoned disordered state of all directions. All forms of love, suffering, madness - he seeks himself , exhausting in him all the poisons, to keep only quintessences of them to dispel dark forces. Unutterable torture where it needs all the faith, of all the superhuman force, where it becomes between all the large immensities , the great cursed criminals, the unknowable One, - and Supreme Savant! - Because it arrives at the unknown ! - Since it cultivated its heart, already rich, more than any, It arrives at the unknown; and when, thrown into a panic, and would end up losing the intelligence of its visions, it saw them! That it crêve in its bondissement by the amazing and unnamable things that come from other worldly beings, he will start with the horizons where the others' have subsided!

lost in clouds that change with whim and turning thought, and tripped by Maya's disconcerting words that ripen in tall trees, drooping from their growing weight and falling onto the jungle planes of thought and from there, gathered into the worlds of poets, the names for unknown things mock the image they suggest and conceal the many paths through the forest to the garden of forking paths which leads to the palace of wisdom. the answer is no, though yes is your prayer. god is Man's greatest imagining...

again, aunt louise between her love and love of years before, and many thereafter, Dollar, her name, a manly woman of strength and willfulness......and on the other side, of my aunt, excuse me, a comely young blondish woman, whose name i forget and have forgotten and cannot remember, their sometimes companion in every way; however, she frequently left, with other women with whom she dreampt, always to return to the stable strength of the more pragmatic two..... the other humans are Dollar's older brother, Maurice -who, incidentally, was my uncle, by the marriage of my paternal grandfather's second wife to one of three previous businessmen, and a simple, but affably disassociated bulwark of middle-class stability and predictability, but whose name i have never heard.... maurice journeyed simply and with little regard to the assiduities of real world living, tended by lady bulwark and grocery money........ all that beer! and the kanga bird feathers........Eureka! they'...

i've grown accustomed to your smile..... 'tis worth the trip, i thought futile, to MYSPACE, that turning screw into the earth; but alice showed a door within a door, and left a glowing button afore my landing finger. i rang, you answered...with clear eyes straight ahead... you falling leaf that, soaring in the currents, never reaches earth,.....so in these winds we play.....today...i need not land my craft to seek my friends from home...with such a wondrous view from this portal.

what a small corner of the universe becomes the All we Know. in a corner of the corner, where there seemed only one, were countless corners, around which were countless corridors, filled with locked and unlocked doors, falling about one another, turning and falling, and those inside them holding to the walls, for fear of falling through space and time into the doors of others' worlds, and forgetting the worlds from which they came.

I saw, by the failing light of the low sun, stained mystical horrors, Illuminating long purple solidifyings, Pareils with actors of dramas and antique floods rolling to drown their shivers with shutters! I dreamed the green fairy night with dazzled snows, going up to the eyes of the seas with eternities of languid, oozing slowness, the circulation of the burning saps, And the yellow and blue awakening of phosphorus in the skies of dreaming. Then, time having obliterated all but these fitful memories, I lay on the beaches of forgotten expectations........

the battle helmet of the infamous samurai warrior, matumato froufrouone', who was sliced and diced by other presumptives of the throne, and served with the memories of sir basil rathbacon, atop toasted and mayonaissed white bread, in view of his followers, that were forced to tread in the blood of matumato's decapitated army...an event of such historical humiliation that the treasured helmet, now supported on the lance that was thrust through its bearer's once still-beating heart, has become a national treasure of japan, and a replica of it, done to imperial specifications, having been placed in the imperial palace, so that subsequent rulers might remind their subjects of the spartican sacrifice that inevitably ensues with such pain and resignation to those who defy the institutions of tradition and history, still serves the mighty purpose of fear and memory...........