25 bucks Blues
http://youtu.be/d_WvOK6QduI
On a
darker blue note:
Me myself me: I
I
I
I
I trot along the desert of today,
I yellowed and greyed, paled out.
I purified my I
by means of rather ordinary starvation.
I fit the bill of Baudrillard
('s Blue Memories)
I am,
I am on a
road in my head
full of
nice
but if not elevating, useless
new knowledge,
I can beat anyone on their canonical
terms, but
it does not buy my food.
I write forth
counter-theological traditions.
I know how & quite well and
I am not alone at all
with Onfray on my síde.
Enters the narrative:
Beyond the color-foul screams
of arbitrariness: real lives
still sometimes stills emerge.
Or not so still.
(Define poetry for me.)
In my mail I found 25 bucks
to change into worthwhile
stay-here-still.
One elegantly troubled
lady with a little Lady
Fauntleroy in tow, blond-
haired smile of despair,
stood in front of my im-
patience (no food for 5 days)
and drove the Western Union man
MAD! Me, too.
She needed 2,500 Euros drawn from her
American Express? Not sure, my ears deafened
becuz of fucking hunger.
Behind me in the queue was an Englishman,
waving his 80 pounds in the stickening air.
I am glad, we had no guns.
"No more than 5 hundred at a time, Madam." -
"That is ok with me."
With her!
I still tried to smile.
I stopped when she dealt out
that other card: „And a 1,200 Euros on that please!
But smiled again when it did not work out for her.
So sorry!
I left the bank robbed, just like everyone else. Nothing new.
Just because one Cyprus bank fucked off, did not mean, banks
had lost the battle to the common mind. No way. ;-)
From my lover's twenty-five bucks he with an
expected cold smile substracted ten percent
because of all the sweat he had put into typing
4 ciphers into the calculator.
I left with prices having suddenly risen overnight,
adjusted my strategies accordingly -
what else can a poor boy do? -
but
adjust
I still
got my bottle of
fat rum
But now at home I
do wonder
if sugar cane should really
be charged so highly
knowing
the farmers
won't see my
monetary input-
My plan being
taking a plane
and share with them
face to face
and leave the assholes out.
I think
they and me
had enough of them already.
So, smoothly I sailed (illegally) home
in my hometown … ;-
Once coy wilder=mess we
run out off and away from
icicleness of the day we
snuggle up to auto-poisonesed
handmade-up dreameries, by-
products of overly improductive
citizens of the state you're in,
and you tell me where
we are going, as if
you or anyone but none knew
where we're going, striking at.
Are you sure anymore?
Then surprise me of maybe this:
Glimpse me!
From out of the warmth I call,
bellow, shout cries of shaking life,
you can tell it is the rum now but
anyway it is sincere, no?
We are so supposed as to assume
getting the real thing being treated a replic(ation)
but used to that we take it for what
it is not. Feasting on it as if
as if it was real. We lose nothing yet.
No fake gods have been laid to waste yet.
Unless we tell?
Priceless. Look into the word.
(But frankly I miss mirrors.)
love:
To tackle depression
you first take a stumbling step aside,
sit down and breathe,
laugh at the birds,
who are laughable at spring
and spring springs forth:
it does so, baby,
all is light all of a
bewitched sudden:
Spring has come. There's
no need to worry anymore.
Have you noticed yet?
New lies to be fabricated
ever so easily all by yourself.
No miracles needed
but the ones betraying
you best are needed.
You can make them up
all by yourself,
Can't you,
but look:
spring!
And now you spring!
Love!
Or so.
http://youtu.be/d_WvOK6QduI
On a
darker blue note:
Me myself me: I
I
I
I
I trot along the desert of today,
I yellowed and greyed, paled out.
I purified my I
by means of rather ordinary starvation.
I fit the bill of Baudrillard
('s Blue Memories)
I am,
I am on a
road in my head
full of
nice
but if not elevating, useless
new knowledge,
I can beat anyone on their canonical
terms, but
it does not buy my food.
I write forth
counter-theological traditions.
I know how & quite well and
I am not alone at all
with Onfray on my síde.
Enters the narrative:
Beyond the color-foul screams
of arbitrariness: real lives
still sometimes stills emerge.
Or not so still.
(Define poetry for me.)
In my mail I found 25 bucks
to change into worthwhile
stay-here-still.
One elegantly troubled
lady with a little Lady
Fauntleroy in tow, blond-
haired smile of despair,
stood in front of my im-
patience (no food for 5 days)
and drove the Western Union man
MAD! Me, too.
She needed 2,500 Euros drawn from her
American Express? Not sure, my ears deafened
becuz of fucking hunger.
Behind me in the queue was an Englishman,
waving his 80 pounds in the stickening air.
I am glad, we had no guns.
"No more than 5 hundred at a time, Madam." -
"That is ok with me."
With her!
I still tried to smile.
I stopped when she dealt out
that other card: „And a 1,200 Euros on that please!
But smiled again when it did not work out for her.
So sorry!
I left the bank robbed, just like everyone else. Nothing new.
Just because one Cyprus bank fucked off, did not mean, banks
had lost the battle to the common mind. No way. ;-)
From my lover's twenty-five bucks he with an
expected cold smile substracted ten percent
because of all the sweat he had put into typing
4 ciphers into the calculator.
I left with prices having suddenly risen overnight,
adjusted my strategies accordingly -
what else can a poor boy do? -
but
adjust
I still
got my bottle of
fat rum
But now at home I
do wonder
if sugar cane should really
be charged so highly
knowing
the farmers
won't see my
monetary input-
My plan being
taking a plane
and share with them
face to face
and leave the assholes out.
I think
they and me
had enough of them already.
So, smoothly I sailed (illegally) home
in my hometown … ;-
Once coy wilder=mess we
run out off and away from
icicleness of the day we
snuggle up to auto-poisonesed
handmade-up dreameries, by-
products of overly improductive
citizens of the state you're in,
and you tell me where
we are going, as if
you or anyone but none knew
where we're going, striking at.
Are you sure anymore?
Then surprise me of maybe this:
Glimpse me!
From out of the warmth I call,
bellow, shout cries of shaking life,
you can tell it is the rum now but
anyway it is sincere, no?
We are so supposed as to assume
getting the real thing being treated a replic(ation)
but used to that we take it for what
it is not. Feasting on it as if
as if it was real. We lose nothing yet.
No fake gods have been laid to waste yet.
Unless we tell?
Priceless. Look into the word.
(But frankly I miss mirrors.)
love:
To tackle depression
you first take a stumbling step aside,
sit down and breathe,
laugh at the birds,
who are laughable at spring
and spring springs forth:
it does so, baby,
all is light all of a
bewitched sudden:
Spring has come. There's
no need to worry anymore.
Have you noticed yet?
New lies to be fabricated
ever so easily all by yourself.
No miracles needed
but the ones betraying
you best are needed.
You can make them up
all by yourself,
Can't you,
but look:
spring!
And now you spring!
Love!
Or so.