Tastes of bitterness, Yellow. Tempered sweetness, Yellow, Bleeding colors would shroud it, Keep them in jars in my bedroom. Beyond every turn, gentle dreamers, Be not astounded, my equal, Yellow inspires better people. But who inspires me? Fourth? Weapons, either people or god. How long does this rope reach? Pull my long leash, teach me of art. Pleasure seekers, teach me of bars, Present evils, second reasons to want. Granola and oats, less to the fawn. Helpless creature, apparent reason, Lemon squeezers reached the top. In each hand they grab your heart, Tastes of bitterness, Yellow, Tempered sweetness, Yellow, Bleeding yellow, they squeeze every drop, Bottle you up, put yellow in a jar.
Vermilions, Amber, Vermin, red, in anger. Verily, yellow dances, Keep dancing, he says, And slaps her. Verify me a fact, liar, Orange becomes vermillion, So what will yellow become, Tallow or cum on the skin? Life, wears thin, and dives. I think upon green, yellow presides, Beyond the goddess worship, lies, Anger. I think a lot about their side. I think they lie about their sides, I think a little red should suffice. Vermillion, yellow, a bit of pride, Call me coward, feed those ideas, A million bits, red and canvas mine.
Yellow, and a bit of blue, Both, I, and you. Purple, Lilac, I just care not for it. Just like you never cared for me, Or any of the things that I thought. Fetch mother, friends, for comfort. Tell your co workers, or consort. I, no longer for dramatic concert, Agriculture of the hallway, march, July, august or months of autumn, Yellow, burst into skies of orange. See If I toss and turn about it. Like, he drives a porche, owns gold, Fire and opal in his coat pockets. Like, the eyes of horses see god, They see not much beyond carrots, Understand little of soap, clothes. Like, maybe you cared for poems, Little for poets, less even for prose.
Gold ochres, yellow turns to orange, But the yellow never changes in you, Does it? Thorn forest, there grows roses. Though tulips, begonia warn you, The world is full of your kin, Thoroughbred horses, Who rub their backs in shit. You are a squid that inks, then drinks it. I never was no poet, caged like a rabbit, Trapped, nor boxed with lines, unknowing. You are a skunk, stinks, and eat begonias. So, though two lips beg on, like au jus, You toot, toot toot, greasy after the booze. I've seen a world full of your kin: Fools... Whose blue oceans brown in pollution, Tulips by piss puddles, without allusion. You are a fun person, is my conclusion, Maybe red can change to an orange, Blue, though, can never be less blue, You can never really be a better person, Just accept yourself, I love you.
View from Toronto, others, also. Best seen, like without follow. A shadow, born of a shadow, How can it fathom less hollow, Habitual patterns in a modern world? Coming tomorrow is gun conflicts, Cult worship, communion with objects. The coward screams like an apostle. Future prospects, like luminous stars, Lay dinosaur bones in scarlet houses. Bloodshed so widespread and obvious, Like polearms in the side of your horse, Desire and goals become simply doors, Where do theirs divide from yours? Like ingots, in fire or war.
A rabbit runs free, in the past, Toward nothing it finds meaning. Fish of streams, pivot teeth, Laughter, tongue chatter, sea. By the brine they find peace, And man, king of beasts. Man forms groups, Parts in two, like lips, The bartender and you. Glass tightly in a grasp, Like a woman's clasp, Like a rabbit in a trap, Wiggle dance, calls, Nobody calls back. Like man, cash advanced, Wiggle dance, calls, Calls, nobody calls back. That man can run like a rabbit, Dance like a rabbit, Hears like a rabbit, Fears the language of diagrams, Candles and passwords. He describes freedom, devoid of it's traps, Talking about assholes out of sadness and anger. He tries to understand, too foolish in banter, Expanding his mind with standards that matter, His reaction barely examined, rather managed, Inside he feels his wiggles, the dance begins, What can exist, he thinks as a passing thing, Kicks and springs his feet, never hears a ring.
Flag, Grab a torch, same hand, Have fun with your vote: Another hand a sword, It opens a can of corn. Fake hammer throw, Judges, like rabbits, Run back to their holes. Rather than face the day, The code and its ghosts. Instead, They make jokes, they make shows, They make notes, that, of course, Exclude their track record of control. That dirt road, saddled by war, Addled by the hammers thrown, Fools who took no land unknown, Who speak a language encoded, Take advantage of the locals. What is wealth, cash of course? But it's also a canvass of bone, Grass in the mouth of a mud horse.
If a caperberry were a fish, Would it still be in your dish, What food do you eschew, fool? Escargot, bear, fruit and goose? Verily, ask yourself this: Do you know all, what is good? Like bitter roots, Like butter runs, Desire, let me dissolve into the slime, Like a newborn child who never sees the sun.
Trackside, the engineer twists and turns Back and forth - on the chair Tapping feet Biting their lips Clenching fists The balance must be right Between performance, between life Focus, forthright In every tiny decision Every design to make Weighing off the balance of winning Versus the life one could take At light speed, the pilot twists and turns Every lap, committed in the highest of G's Back and forth - shifts and learns Working wrists Operating feet The balance must be right Between speed, between sight In every corner A decision awaits Weigh the balance of life Versus the passion to race
Like a rabbit in a trap, Wiggle dance, calls, Nobody calls back. Wiggle dance, candle wax, Like man, cash advanced, Calls, nobody calls back.
#THE RIPPER# Do yourself a favour When he hurts you Do not do fit a hug My hands will be tied When he abandons you Do not seek refuge in me I would have gone abroad When he despises you Do not come for my live I would be short if feelings My heart has gone sour Bleed out cold and dead My humanity's been shut I have gone all black and grey My heart seems to be missing Emotions are long gone I have accepted grief and pain Sadness and misery now clothe mW Love's been sent out of my window When he abandons you Your face ruthlessly smashed to he ground Your arms brutally ripped apart Your body gracefully cut to pieces, but by bit When I think of you Even hope despairs Faith has its doubt Bravery now shivers Your slow and painful death Is all I await For I am the ripper. đźš« #paulopalz# #theripper#
Big curls, bench presses, High dives into the deep end Swim laps Gettin' down with my boys Hard drugs through the weekend I feel that Bike ride through the trees See the colours change Run flat across the bay Just to tell my maynes I'm bored, ditched lessons I'm hitting up my best friends But I'll nap first Big curls, bench presses Torn bicep and a bong rip Yo, I'm good now Skateboard through the crowds Where the streets are paved Eat shit, get scraped I can feel no pain Easin' down with my boys Slow cookin' through the weekend I feel that A bit of strings, sum tings Got damn, such a feeling To feel that
“Don’t let me down”, now that’s a foolish way of thinking Response of confirmation, actions not in agreement Not very much Redeeming Like Pandora’s box you’re seeming Like bullets to the chest, I’m barely breathing Confused and in distress, was I deceived? and Was I deceiving? Were you mistaken by my distance and a lack of trust was formed Or was my token of your trust misplaced in your corrupted life form? Are you a demon? But you weren’t demeaning. You boost me up, Above the ceiling was my love Like, not love, allow me to clarify Was different, real connection But anything more than that I inform you, I deny And now I cry Mine, your were not but all of you was with me Or maybe me with you, that’s where I get confused Mistaken thinking Time, as more comes, you will fade At least that what my research say But I swear to god, my image of you gets imprinted on me more and more as I survive the day Leave me alone I don’t want you here to stay Memories in my bone Fractured when I lay Fractured when I wake Fractured me in my waist Oh what a waste A waste of my fight when all I care to take is flight All I care is me and you changed that habit Is that what lies are like? Is the purpose damage? If so you succeed because I’m more than done I’ve lost my sun Although it’s reflection on the moon is a pretty replica You set me up Trojan horse You lift me up And when things got good you sat me down Let me frown Although I hide, that feelings sound That feelings loud Those thoughts clear These eyes hold tears Those drops aren’t mild Neither were my fears So clear Ill steer for now Others won’t be allowed My voice won’t speak aloud Not truth nor words of deep Only traps for the weak, ones I couldn’t put out They were from your slope Your dope became my cloud I guess it’s, both, hello and goodbye for now. If only I knew before, how much you’d let me down.
Last living lemming, No house to live in, No Chandeliers; Next exhibit, Next exhibition, Spoke of past tense in English, Fluent in other languages; An Eccentric Mystic, Poetic Lyrics, and their beginnings; One carves caverns, Of all manner of rock, What matters of master? The afterthought.
Canon roar, castles go, Grab ahold, gravel road, A rabbit grows, As does his habits, A hobbit grows, Shrinking his jacket. Life a la mode, What matters most, When paddling boats? Loneliness, A partner to boast, Havoc that leaves you alone.
Obsessions What power you hold over me... Every action, every thought Is just a push in your direction Feeding into the obsessions, Lost connections, misdirections, Absolutely positively coerced into these affections By a brain constantly seeking tiny moments of perfection. Though you kind of must admire this curation of adoration, All the mental efforts required to keep up the constant cultivation Of this undisturbed fixation, The impropriety and distraction of a single-minded meditation, All these mind-numbing, pacing, clock-like rotations Theoretically leading this obsessive mind to pure elation, The uninhibited fruits of this persistent dedication. Happy sighs and exhalations... But then... The sobering realization That somehow life existed before this shrine’s erection And perhaps the cracks start to show, Unexpected but apparent imperfections, Initially denied and resolutely rejected, The shattered shards of a crystal ball that disagrees with my projections, The deflation, depletion, extortion Of my vexation, Maybe leading to complete and utter exoneration... The disintegration of my fascination. Maybe someday... But for now I prefer to float in my comforting contemplations, Giving in to the infatuation, These happy delusions of my mind’s incarceration. And if the worst this should cause is These false exhilarations, Then I shall stay here for a while And enjoy the scintillating sensations Of my obsessive ruminations. A Temporary Salvation.
Bindle stiff of simple things, Fake brickwork buildings, Frugal beginning. Mind filled with bitterness, Still feeling ideas stone: Life constatant, slowly. Hands in gauze and clovers, One makes a river of oceans, A farm of forests, dogs of horses. Yet smashes up against the stone, Dark and lonely, eyes gloss over.
Single planet of written language, Little matters of bigger battles: Mirror dragons, bitter captains, Speaking lingua franca to a pier. 'They see not what is near' Between fits of passion, screams, Film seen backward, guarantees, Hears nothing but laughter.