jibbety jive jabber (or pulling my teeth like stars)
Fucking shit. Always a good way to start a play or a movie or whatever this is. Because fucking shit implies catastrophe does it not?
- at least a state of heightened emotional reality. making it more easy for me to transport you to this realm of destitue solitude where my words have no feet and my eyes can’t hear. to a place of total ignorance and unabashed cliché.
this is the part. right here. where I must paint the picture for you. if I must as I must. messy – with all the colors in my palette. and if you hate it fuck you.
I didn’t mean that – sorry sometimes- I can be so immature- sound so mature but still be the opposite.
As I sit here hoping my creations will be somewhat legible and hold the key to understanding between you and mean, I can’t help but yearn for some other cohesion.
Rip the stars from my teeth and the lines from my face
– beg mother earth for her sister back, her brother back, her lover back.
I saw a really fucked up movie last night. Yea I did,
And I write to feel free – I write because if these thoughts escape me
if they run like they so often do then I have only this and this is not enough has never been enough its too rough too tough to scraggly edged and watered down.
I write till my eyes go blank and my fingers take control dictating all that is before me. And yet I know the truth: soon we won’t even have this accessory this cliché keyboard obstacle of a thing soon thoughts will form words all on their own and their will be no need for artistry for craft or will there?
The veil will be raised and there will be no more bullshit protocol no waiting in line thoughts will be things and there will be no step of manifestation time to be convinced and all that talk.
There will just be jive jibbety jittery jive.
And most will be bullshit.
Okay all will be bullshit – but among that clatter that chaos there will be something useful truthful real – and yet as soon as you name it, the thing, it becomes as false as all the other crap,.
So here we are you and I in the puddles of our current chaos a verbal diahreeah of all the agendas and ideas – and still we swim.
