fallacies

I'm not small by any means and i can't fly despite all attempts but perhaps if i try hard enough i can shine for a moment long enough to mean something to you and be embraced, cherished in your hands

A disertation of tremors to ears sweet seduction gyrating vibration rolling thunder raining ecstacy, tears orgiastic wake warm palpitation of mind on the contour shaping rapture self supplementing mental clarity lugubrious melody hearts lather rigadoon, gigue, tonal disparity triumph march, toccata alla scherzo bloods accellerando seminal tune prismic elation, presto allegro nocturne sensations with coda too soon vibrato, rubato warmly molded from ears to the soul sweet quartz enfolded

What am I to do in this viscous mass? To rise above it is beyond me. It is idolic, such complex simplicity. To settle beneath?  A tempting thought with such light weight bearing down on me, but impossible to my will and slight keen self. What then but to break down for it, to dissolve in its movements, slip apart and slip inside, a part for it just that much sweeter.

The lemmings walk on (because YES, they hear the march) Priceless in their divergent values diverse in their conformancy they walk through an earthy nocturne. Means justifying all ends rather like we (rather like I should) - - did i think too far? - - through an airy nocturne ends justifying all means. The walk is always the same with its nuances, its differences like the lemmings. But a blocker is born never to finish the walk. He serves his time blocking because a blocker he was born driving his fellowship somewhere else in their walk. The walk is priceless to him (who can not walk) but a blocker he is born and thus he

Agent Cantelope has flown the coup. Send his message to the rest of the troop: "Tamora counts the roads and maps the stars so strum your wishes and embrace your guitars. The color of the day is noon, young crow, and muave is the time to reap what you sew." From the bottom of his heart solicit interpretation, because rhyming over wires is desensitized information. We can't always make this easy for you, so crack Tamora, soldier, and see what is to ensue.

I watch you from across the room, a sin I won't confess, entranced as cherry sweetness emerges to find your tongue's caress. It traces the luscious lines of your lips like my eyes a thousand times before you wrap it in your mouths moist depth, away from my eyes crimes. Guest to the sweet salivic bed I long for refuge in, mixing fluids with your own as a sinfully seductive sensation. If I could only roll along your tongue as that flavored juice does drip, If I could only be that lollypop that you slid between your lips.

A young man wallows in a blue bed thinking (warm) red thoughts about a (general) orange man with (regal) purple synthetic arms. A young boy wraps his fleshy arms among the synthetic weeds. dirt blackens                              (but vines entangle                              it weeds dangle                                sure worms slick                                 feels poisoned ivy scratches                      good roots snap                                  doesn't thorns trap                                 it?) but it feels comfortable now, doesn't it? A young child take the sweets devours all he can get. Disreg

every tick echoes it ticks loudly and hangs traveling tremors trying to tether something on me s i  l   e      n     c          e s e t t l e s . . . every tick's tock trembles resounds reverberations randomly ringing long distance for something on me but like most anthropomorphic personifications Time gets my answering machine for now and an arrow to the blue box where it can file all complaints. "I'm sorry," i sound, like a jubulant yet automated atrocity of soul, "but your call sent sharp hope trembling through my self, so sharp i shouldn't stand sharing words with you. It's not that I don't find your offer of

wide solid pastures stretch healthy with the blood of summer his work in this winter and I go gazing on a little grassy field for grazing. cows dance across the ... with me they jive around me, offer me some milk for that covered caricature to take a mustache. we take a slick flavorfull slide across the plains avoid the divit temptation taunts me to touch you with the tip of my finger, sick!

She used to fall in love At least twice a week And sometimes thrice a day If the proprietor was selling right. The times she shared were Something the other treasured While she adored only ephemerally, Moving on soon enough. The people she chose were Distinctly not of good nature - They badgered, ridiculed, demeaned; Leaving her ultimately alone. Dreams of future were discarded In shoeboxes full of memories And when she cleaned her room She cleaned the boxes, too. There was a time she thought That the time to settle had come Yet when she followed her heart She realized she was a fool for it. The times they spent in silence

have you ever been the boy smaller than the ant who is standing in one spot used to buying his hotdog right where the ketchup should be and then one day it all goes gray he blinks three times and he's supposed to have subliminally known that if he ever wished for anything in his little ant sized life he should have wished for it right then cause his world's about to change selling up for down in the tune of ancient zen?

The Candy Man December 23, 2002 Come to me my preties Run from me my foes The Candy Man has goodies In exchange for fingers and toes Come into my parlor Come and play my games Come and have some Candy So I can learn your names Come to my table Come and eat your food Eat and be merry It only sets the mood I'll only be a minute I will be right back Don't run away I need a midnight snack I run into my bedroom I run and close the door I change into my outfit I am host no more Come to me my preties Run from me my foes The Candy Man has goodies That only he will know.....

I've always found it disturbing that penance and purgatory are places men are expected to visit with an open wallet after any offense.  Why do roses make a woman more likely to forgive?  What is it about a particular twist of metal or shine on a rock that says "forgiveness?" It's not that I don't know it's a social phenomenon, just that it's so difficult to escape.  The way out lies through minefields, broken glass and flash floods, all conspiring together.  Men use the materialist view as an easy out, a way to apologize without involving their heart or mind.  Women claim to want the heart and mind but are all too easily seduced by the lure