Song of 81 Poems - LIII

The void reached for insanity.

    Caught, you must know some kind fellow

    to choose Brooklyn fantasies.

Boy he double stoked a limpid loser,

Cuttlefish have pride, their gowns are smoking.

    What grass roots struggles do you observe?

"Look Baby, a Walkman!" I have her city, willing.

    Measure, glorious Doctor, I'm innocent.

Childhood loves creatures enough, soft and spotted.

   Marry me, Partner. Our poor tune

   was tied down to become a husband,
True full colors don't give in. 

   Betroth her.

Lying is money, 

There's always some city under a storm.

    Paint, draw with color, should the monkey come.

Electric brother, dress the street language of life.

    Love, cook harmony by deep dance.

Psychedelic passions, sane at last, empower space,

    opening an innocent degenerate thought,

Her wasted part forms a baby, sings for a stranger.

Bless your breath greasily drawn, 

Find dance and suffer.

Song of 81 Poems:

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10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
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37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
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55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - LII

 

Baby, I want hot beer., I want to get out!

Present our time outs, 

     as awesome wild pain.

Glitter, shimmer, some laugh, and care.
Why complain?
     Stop to see the gold, only whose is it?
Serious art throws a laughing solution.
The peace which I open,
     sculpts dirty Death.

'It is your little sister, breathe sweetly."
Poster of my studio's raging dreams.
     Not many have love.
We cleaned our dust there,
     before my bovine smoke party.
 

Seek your last thought Beauty.
     Heal, have control over us.
We believe still in sky, in the dark chocolate howl.
     Way hot, full-assed, dark, soft cooking.

We doubt to improve, almost, as only can a king.
No glorious awesome electric fantasy,
     Love me in the original,
     Curious from a grand hair-do.
Try and run! I'm all gone, see? I'm bold.

     Fine. If at home eat out.

She does see that last free canvas,
     add up to life's star.
Smoke cunning husband,
‘Till I question, trying in my rough bitter fast,
     to start a submissive life.

Show night lust denial.
I'd better be ripe,
     I won't ever play or strum.

Take this perfume home.

Song of 81 Poems:

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10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - LI

"Chisel your freedom, she's all fed up."

       So go easy.

Shouldn't some negative understanding
       eat the original spirit of love?

A happy nihilist Mama saw,
       who could have resented my sculpture.
       and minded the reasons, why life appears.

See, old society means a dark 'n dirty lash.
Breath disgraces our presence
       when wild slave instruments demand more,

Esteemed fellow come hither.
Affect, and break us a line of weed.
       May I call nature sweet?

Happy Angel, you break in one pass,
       the life which you formed,
Did you care for them?
       We are all language.

Such a wild chant is Music,
       "Imagine a beautiful husband."

They have no shame!

Rude girl-faced serpent,
       I shared that masterpiece,
       This Sister, was gal envy.

Beauty forms thought silhouettes,
       that intimate joy will glitter,
       seen as symbols of space.

Our flight movie break,
Soon tempers must ebb,
     if thou would live electric . . .

Peace at dusk, Brother.

Song of 81 Poems:

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10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - L

When guilt steps on me, who is it?

     With the edge, give ideas.

I'm pressing on your pride.

Observe. I've sculpted her.
Just one balance makes crass impulses.
     We come, she ends the question.

Energy saw a thin child . . 
Come, know I meant what I mean,
     Your trouble confronts reality.
A little sexual, she gave in to your trance.
     All motion starts me questioning.

Praise Father, the mountain influence,
     out of solvent language.
Sister wants sister, 

     you diddle on about old influences.

She was psychedelic,
     investigating the obtuse ugly canvas phobia.
Handing the enormous dish to the soft side of guile,
     Please sense our red passion.

The dish represents a few late in life.
     She needs that last canvas . .  

We need this, to feel!

Our glorious number looks for better coal.

    Cooking runs back to ground,
    Choices sculpt every phobia.

Your stance could cut him on the rock.

Song of 81 Poems:

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19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
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55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - XLIX

We represent the Null.

Propelling a bitter glorious night,
      to avoid negative, high art.
Smeared to capture space.
     "Dude! We choose only play!

Metaphor trods in to model,
     a kid's silhouette.
Famous finally, for she has an insane mother.
Your partner lets Grace abscond,
     with the husband's light.

In beautiful surf, what struggles
     to mean serious art?
Try and improve I've a database.

You screamed this before, 

    May I call nature sweet?

This crazy passion I was not imagining.
We are all language.
    Chant is music.
Learn to feel married, have intimacy.
    Try a life-like vintage body, 

    my mean stranger.

Notorious creatures, important memories,
     waste away in despair . . .
Better I seek your care.
     As a demon, seizes you!
     Dull him, of Earth!

Please see I'm under love,

     and have less trouble.

Destroy my white part,

   Throw nude with chocolate.
   Afraid? Then, play.
Be the solution. 
    Take to open love at passion's bed.

Wretch, whose free toss

     will bleed rainbows for you, upon glass.
Sky appears home,

     Chooses a wild blue.

Night's important.

Share the cat together, 

    and not society.

Song of 81 Poems:

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19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
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55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - XLVIII

The vintage act, yes, is down.

Around, I sense bed music. 

     So reach and seek us,

     Empty your sister's howl.

I am for mellifluous death.
     Mounted, should that be too dysfunctional?
     Muses I see even.
The family affects competition.

     How drunk I am,
     the favorite instrument is sense.

Weren't they too bold to presume freedom was about water.
     May, please comfort us.
Could society, curious in the end, reach you?
Glitter the man or his play,
      How saber cuts emulate character.
     "Marry me".

Men beat her.
But he, one day true, full colored,
     stilled emotion. 

Such wild worries, Girl, despair.
     chat, dress nude, destroy.
New feeling with sound communicates a story,
     Space as rich as a body.

When rulers think, the father's hollow crowd stings.
   Investigate how the girl bought problems.
Play with a solution. Slather, beg!
     Give me a big luscious daze!
Know who frees pain, scratches sense?
     Killer of life, 

     which Angel breaks, faithful and deep.

My girl would have me home.
     We so love this life
Pressure, write, dazzle, cook,
     But make true measure.

Oh, that freedom we give.

Song of 81 Poems:

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10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
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55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - XLVII

Curious, clever problems almost captured:

Father hated skirts, with effect.
   Miss, trust that he'd join you.

She meant better, needs better luck,

She sees love rob all nature's thought.
     I sure marvel. Will I buckle? Almost.
She waits away despair . . .
     Come in, you and I will teach her.

Jokers said, "You are having clues?"
     Dull him, of earth. Laugh, Act, Share,
Try a good society girl.
     Rosy, I feel Mama's song 

Pulsed, soft perfect, and drunk.

     Silent glory comes.

Appear calm with luxurious joy.
This green subject imposes great balance.
     Do try and know me.

My luscious wife asked me to experiment.
     Masterpieces follow intimacy,
     It's why she comes.

The junky relates wasted dreams as ugly shards.

We followed vintage laughter towards new feeling.

Young babe, demand when we make deep sky.
     Will reapers send old silent music?

We must hurry, see in tea a secret sin.
Brother, watch through cat fragments.
     when we're aware together.
Hermione stormed out of here.

Your faithful husband married me, 

      He finds sleepwalking fun.

Man they suffered. Pal, Sister of Beauty,

     This monster theme plays over your childhood.
     We sleep, scream, subject to an itch.
A monstrous age of mildew grows.

Let's procreate.

Song of 81 Poems:

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55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - XLV

A favorite idea got stuck

     beside a perfect childhood.

Still, why make him, girl?
     Being eerie, we sang our differences.
     Collectors came, but they never told their opinions.
Fingering him won''t take an ugly score.
     Just try, then have a parting.

Enervate delight. Hermione switched.
I saw Agrippa threading jungle art,
     I need to see who you are.

Confront thy wench.
Have you ebbed your observations?
Coming along gives strength to electric understanding,
     Compose important memories.
See your sins apace.
     At home we could have found you some sleeping space.
     When a demon seizes you! Observe the sufferings.

I could storm out, Laugh and act!
Use part childhood sleep.
     I have him at night.
No glorious awesome electric fantasies.
Since life hears strength, together there's gold.
     Go, experiment like a bird!

Who gave this bad commune a name?

I am the original girl.
     Isn't life mean? 

Hard characters never lose.

Test with disorder, your animal captures from time.
     She sings many songs.
You just said,
"Brother Moon, why did this young friend appear?"
     Perseverance, shows you leaving with Anger.

Pleasant, bold perfumes are a calm instrument,
     to track us down.    

And love me.

Song of 81 Poems:

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10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
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55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - XLIV

My perfect sound is still ugly.

      feelings crushed break anew!

Show me your sculptures and green water.
When will I yield?
      I'll approach, and let the others stand.

As author, author-songwriter before,
      the best in Brooklyn feel the surf.
Try some right process.
Our empty bowl won't confront her.
      I'll have her green money, 

Every laugh makes Rainbow represent your sweet wife.
Why complain?
      My perfect sound is still ugly.

Perfume confronts your many opinions
Cramped work, the glory owes you money,
     that emotion forms delusions of art.
Little sister breathe sweetly,

    Feel music, art, that chants a fresh imagination.
    "Energy is a thin child."

Romance risks progress, if felt too far.
Have breakfast, some soft cooking, while . . .
You delight in Anger!
     Sorrow paints a repressed peace.

She sings with spirit, captures unity,
     the poster of my studio's raging dreams.

Smear more! 

Whose model has classy companions,
     like calm men.
Husbands reach but never capture.
     Babe, paint crept in from rules of thought.

Do face your picture,
     a sweet obsessive masterpiece.
     "Must ye think of some drunk mouth?"

Why should this girl Rainbow
     believe it when smoke calls.
She takes her innocent degenerate thought,
     as a flight movie break.

"Control my body, soft and sad."
  How hard it is to know,
     or draw delusions, with color.

Song of 81 Poems:

  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81