write this
emmer effer
a pretend genius broadsuction
some days are better than none
Leo Madrid
Gleening Grin Reepers
Welcome to death the darling and dashing grin reeper gleened,
through very attractive masks with the enticing demotive shy grin,
popular lore is wrong about transition it’s not at all what you believe,
we’ve been expecting your imminent arrival so do please come right on in.
here the choice is yours to choose heaven or hell and there’s no going word backs,
we grin reapers are here as your subconscious guides to give you the final choice tour,
please proceed beyond the red rope to the vip line for the transport to hell on the two way traxx,
your friends have been eagerly a waiting for your shadow because for what they ill you are the cure.
the car was wall to wall red velvet with plishy cushions for your recently transformed perfect ass,
drinks were served all the way down by a mile high qualifier and they tasted like a sweet quest,
when our gates to hell glided open there was a surprising bash of your favorite foie gras,
to your surprise with a dash of demise were faces just as you remembered them best.
instead of dark and deadly you see hot and sexy among rolling hills and cool clubs,
there is no fire or brimstone and instead more sin with perfect tone and lashes,
no teeth gnashing and instead they get to be dragged over ass & bare backs,
it’s all golf courses and hot tubs with scantily clad servant lads and lasses.
this doesn’t seem so bad you tell yourself as the drink begins its zings,
you finally begin to understand and sorta start to like the gleen grin.
because as far as you can see it really can’t get better than this,
everything ever wanted with just a taint of unforgivable sin.
just to be sure you have to check and take the rest of the tour,
the round trip traxx car was a little plain and nothing good was served,
as far as you are concerned nothing served shouldn’t be part of your de jour,
the door swished open and there was no welcome but you barely noticed or observed.
eventually you ask the grin reaper where’s saint-what’s-his-name and the answer is a shrug,
oh well you tell yourself you are probably not staying anyway and splif just then they appeared.
welcome he said as he cracked open and fingered the reaper ‘he’s can’t look in here, he is a bad drug’.
you float right in like you own the space that you’re flying in but the air is smeared with something weird.
you tell yourself this is kinda cool with weightless decisions & an aerial view not possible down there,
just as your second guess is coming something crazy happens that makes the final decision easy,
everyone you know that wasn’t down there standing in rows that looks like a triangle sphere,
they too appear just as you remember them with anger glowing eyes and looks of queezy.
The first few rows are who loved you and they all have their heads bowed in disgrace,
the rest held high heads because they’ve been waiting as long as the friends below,
the rows behind hold those whom you lied and who lost in your one person race,
the long row in back are those you royally fucked over just a short time ago.
to hell with us you say to your guide and check back in your temp wing,
the air up here if filled with fear and there is not not much to do here.
then the ones you stole emotions from started to cheer and sing,
in decent you sensed something different in the form of a tear.
the car disappeared and replaced with a caged cargo elevator,
the only button to press is down and it’s always the right size,
you wet yourself seeing that your greeter was hell’s mayor,
always try to choose your friends and muses very wise.
Absolute Relative Timetrack
We are in essence two separate yet equal conscious selves
your conscious is who we perceive to have a name and is social
two interconnected half's forming our ying-yang sphere-like union
your unconscious is half of the whole residing in the dream realm
the foundational banks of your conscious lay at the unconscious level
this is hidden with invisible perception in the engramatic memory vault
creatively unusual juxtapositions can lead to ultra spontaneous neurogenisis
there are ten spacial dimensions of reality according to the latest quantum physics
therefore we must have ten dimensions of perception in order for them to be perceived
the quantum conscientiousness that i practice works with gravity like we understand it or not.
Picture a triangle or pyramid with three equidistant levels and each with their own slot
these levels process like a factory our engrams as they are emotionally received
are you alone when thinking to yourself or is there something to metaphysics
when you decide to speak how long does it take to form your hypothesis
stay in the now and let instinctual athersphereic guides be at fault
like holding the hand of your unself wearing the halo from a devil
dreamtime while the unconscious takes over the cerebral helm
establishing an equilibrium of order of our reality illusion
the conditional probability of you're being anti-social
bias is free will varyance pulled from the shelves.
There once was a timeline and now it is a two railed timetrack
time warps on one and does not reverse or repeat on the other
the warped track is relative while the straight one is very absolute
time as you know it does not exist yet it effects all ten dimensions
their brains can sense the first five and our other minds’ the second
movement slows time at an invisibly noticeable level to undo pretend
quantummetric dimensions of our reality with ten correlating perceptions
without time in the mix how can you in anything be completely resolute
relativity does not mean that nothing matters or that we can kill our brother
it means that all matter is directly connected and everything counts is a fact.
Dilated time can only be experienced by us with expending of kinetic energy
clocks were invented to mark time though it had just given a relative birth
there is only one you and with it you will get only one addendum
your age will never reverse and there are no second verses
how much time do you spend thinking about the future
that is a form of time travel in a way not yet so clear
it’s fun to dream of star trekked parallel multiverses
please don’t go on with reductio ad absudum
like you and everyone else on our Earth
we were all once liquid red electricity.
Golden Gated Shadows
i’ve got a dark secret you are about to be told,
treat it like a whisper whisped just for the two of you,
with listening comes a promise never choose to whisper with a wrong soul.
if the promise is broken someone will cease to breath and it won’t be you two.
let me show you how things are supposed to work with just a few fresh thought words,
your demotive glow brights the aethersphere whenever you are seemingly far or near to me,
you have to want someone before they can be desired and that includes all of their three thirds,
you are welcome to damage me with your favorite fetish just do it with desire and leave out the cruelty.
your endowment of objectification is safely standing on one leg down by the bridge on the dock in the bay,
the only good pains you will receive from us are that which you explicitly plead for or pleasantly request,
there are few others that can synthesize what we’re syn-thing about and what you do and don’t non-verbally say,
the secret is special because it is happening with this reading and you now have a real good part in the long quest.
we went on a day trip to the Golden Gate Bridge and what we did was choose where to celebrate my 100th birthday,
it’s a long way off with not being even half-way there and the chances of making it that long are nearly none to slim,
i decided long ago to cheat death and the grin reeper by choosing my fate and the day on which it will happen to say hey,
today is the day we shared in the say and choose the leaping off spot next to the high rim of our favorite unforgivable sin.
the priest we were sitting next to on the ride there overheard us make the plans for our poetic birthday suicide pact,
he helped to get us where we were going then with a forced priestly smile asked us to switch tracks at the very next stop,
we’re both breathing the freshest air breathed in for the last five years for some of the same and different reasons of fact,
we will always have that spacetime when we shared a dangerously forbidden thought way up high and near the gated top.
be my doomfull dose for the evening and we’ll share our addiction for red fluid and rhythmic dance floor movement,
a controlling role from me cannot be because it’s being part of your preferred kind of free is what is on my feasting range,
my emotional memory has been reset with horrific intentions long in the past and since you are the very first moment,
after tonight everything will relativistically change with the added excitement of taste of strange with a bit of derange.
choose the evening aroma with your favorite photo and choose it well because the image will forever bring back the smell,
select the perfect place to incise your mark and before we name the special space mark the spot with a biting kiss stung,
slowly drag your chosen edge across the region of your incision decision and then it is time to make the choice swell,
when the dark red fluid begins to run absorb it up with the ready gauze sponges or rejoice in using your tongue.
no matter what happens after tonight the bitter sweet taste of dna lounge will forever be blended with yours,
the wanting inside me has long since gone and the price i am willing to pay for love is negative zero,
technology can’t offer a camera that can capture your demotive glowing stare through doors,
i can see or sense it whenever your red switch is properly switched by your poetry hero.
my empty sphere that once was bright clear is filling with fresh worms and breathe,
you are the closest to reach my quanta-sphere and not do it wrong painfully,
my downfall has led a Lamia to me who helped cheat our friend death,
if you ever decide to leap i am always willing to leap too early.
Pathetic Pyrrhic Victories
Aether control guides are coming our way near,
they will tell us everything we need to ever know.
Close your lids then begin to see the end from here,
skip to the good part and start before the end of go.
The heuristic view of the systemic worlds that are mine,
the relativistic gradation it grows between hex and why.
Can’t anybody else see the invisible wall in front of our me,
tell me if fate or whatever is up there wants me to die or fly.
Something good will eventually happen because it usually does spark,
the path that lay before us boarders on the quantum subtlety sublime.
With all of the other destitute souls we dance alone together in the dark,
all mixed around up and down reaching for the stars and not for the shine.
The pre-cognitive programming discards the notion before even looking up and being,
effort gazed upon with a dubious eyes can only see flaws and nothing close to profound.
The world I come from is very different indeed where most of the victories are Pyrrhicly seen,
when we look around us and see what’s going round it’s natural to look for desire to be found
The mind and brain are two sides of the same cloud with words and sounds being the fluff,
identify and captivate is the conventional approach to bring about their desired psychosis.
Anything done well is attributed to the mysterious force called luck and it’s lady like gruff,
blow on my dice now before I toss them in the wind with a wish for a spacial symbiosis.
Reaching and grabbing while feeling ever slightly and kind of sort of pathetic,
with rarely hearing no but excuses and reasons and feel the turn of the head.
All that it takes is a continuations stream of doubt that is slightly relativistic,
to wear down the weakened and make them go away wanting to be dead.
Our fate is controlled by others one way or another from end to end,
odds are against us guessing or figuring out why or when to be bad.
i’m less than nothing and you can’t take that away from me again,
trying to fit where i don’t belong is the only option i’ve ever had.
Petite Circle Domme
Seven naked women left dark spots in my night vision,
the leader hangs her clit over the taut neon lizard skin,
drums respect the judgments, body, music and woman,
rules apply to all and after you break one pass the sin.
Advising time is fun and you’re allowed to scar away,
be yourself a silent ringer and then prepare to sway,
respect the process to the end be on time and stay,
crossing rhythms die before starting your own way.
Taut belly skin can borne any ancient ear shaking,
breasts only suggest knowledge of appreciating,
nipples know structure of painful climax pulling,
drumming to what you are hearing and seeing.
Ass stripping with pleasure marks from a demon,
standing in front with soul-searching bush season,
try to stay without inflection or smile is the reason,
healing life with death & sink or swim without seamen.
Women need a different rare phantom deadpan respect,
naked mountains between the legs with drums as a subject,
dare yourself never back out that’s treating death as a reject.
beat your demons with psychology in which you dance and reflect.
The whip-wielding dominatrix knows the secret to life is that it’s good pain,
awakening sensations of sexless experience in a private car on the terror train,
possibilities are endless when the joie de vivre lingers in a quivering spastic brain,
to a paroxysmal you there’s no difference between melted ice cream and a cum stain.
An expert and master near the highly charged nerves ending in a merciful equilibrium,
dive into the pool of pain just once more scratch and claw before releasing them,
not immune to the fear of failure with power to rescue from the edge of asylum,
reflections in a mirror transmit terror that crosses a fragile line with a stem.
The slap slides off from the oil and ooze with the tears and sweat delirious,
feeling the creative methods of inducing euphoric pain is mysterious,
naked skin is absent with a pure locus of new pain that is serious,
the ideal sadist offers a revolting experience that is imperious.
Voices of the brain torture the raw red exposed flesh,
sensations from the body soles and palms mesh,
repetition yields to stinging when they thresh,
another dimension of pain beyond a crèche.
Slime and moist skin wet the black hair,
deter leather whip from being there,
breathing well beyond the stare,
pain and pleasure as vapid air.
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