letting the first thought invade the page.

As I sit upon my legs, legs sit upon thoughts

I am aware

Aware that god can stares cause I have the eyes of the master jewels like open views in the country yard were rosters sing into the mountains of Texas

Where the cat is a lion and these poems are novels, I sit upon my legs because my legs are walking constantly roaming the void of cerebral roads, continually homeless bound by a society of fool that drool on top of the table looking for salvation in there pockets, but can only be saved by thee roots of their hands.

See I had a plan to fly with two feathers in my fingertips and paint the world a drum that can talk better than the crickets can sing.

(this might be incomplete) 

Mu

He who desires to walk on top of clouds

Only desires relief of penance

He who desires nothing

Is awarded self

" The  trouble with 

   fashions is you want

   to fuck the women

   in their fashions

   but when the time 

   comes they always

   take them off so

    they wont get 

      wrinkled"

JK.... 

    

" Repeat---let it come to you, don't run after it---It would be and is like running after sea waves--- to embrace them up where you stand when you catch them"   -- Jack Kerouac 

i should have been looking for a job today but instead i wrote a poem 

Dreams

I have dreams,

Dreams of a Buddha’s hand

Waving a fresh hibiscus breath

 

To dive into a saints well

In depths that are

as seasoned and sweet as

chai 

and be born into vacancy

 

to entangle in carnal affairs

with tear ducts so vast

that the wombs presence

swells in eternity

under the constant sermon of the tide

 

I have dreams of Gotama

I have dreams Mother,

dreams that summer and autumn

gave birth to peace,

In perfect season

 

I have dreams that interplay

Like Evans Sunday eloquence,

Like innocence flesh worn away

By mid summer play

 

I have dreams that

come true everyday

under the sacrifice

of my veil

and the flight of

doves tongues   

the strongest prophet of truth

my baby kitten has a huge infestation of fleas on him and he's been a real trooper letting me pinch his skin all day and yesterday so i wrote for him i think he laughed ( he hasn't read calvin and hobbes yet) 

Little cat dreams like Hobbes

Little cat itches like my brain

Little cat pounces on “Z” like “I” to “E”

Little cat likes the cradle like “Z”

Little cat you were suppose to love my bud

Little cat don’t be fascinated with his spine be fascinated with his eyes.

Little cat I hope you grow up like a Buddha

If you eat enough your belly will bring us luck

Little cat im gonna punish you with rain next time I hear the elders moan.

Little cat im not warning you im threatening your comfort.

Little cat, little boy, baby, I told you not when im writing

Little cat I love you 

But “Z” is my soul as “E” is my heart.

Little cat you found the perfect part

yesterday an old man was looking for a western the end result was this 

I want to start a holocaust, for all my bias odium’s running wild through the city. First I would invade BestBuy and hold all pop charts hostage and force them to be truthful, and after they cried to the preacher I will discharge 100 casings for ever genre and move on to Barnes and Nobles and systematically drop every cowboy and john Wayne impersonators like flies in my florescent light of purity, then next the lovers will all be hanged for vanity in sexual facades and giving humanity less of a soul and more hope, next would be the mystery, the only mystery would be where did all the ascetics go? After I burned the Christian inspiration I would sit on top the ashes of a million hypocrites and read e.e. cummings vowing to rid myself of the animal after I baptize the world. Next we would capture the executives bent on making the west immobile and force feed them tofu and spinach, then make them devour the blood spilt for the American classic grease between whole wheat, until they suffer in the veins of petas dreams, finally I would dream the “imagine” and act upon my vision by burning Jesus shooting Satan starving Muhammad gassing Jehovah and shooting Allah, leave only Siddhartha so I can swim from bay to sea from earth to stars, from sunflower to daises. Next ids move to Arlen and thank the Hill’s for the humor but all Texans must die by the horns of thee bull and impaling all families on the nocturnal breathe of the faceless. Next I would destroy any building of white and men sitting for freedom under patriotic pretenses, I obliterate parliament, sever dictators and free all of Africa from bullets, and bring rains to a land of famine under my mother’s tears. Maybe I’m a little pessimistic, but optimistic I can cure the world as long as they forget the politics of each other’s nations and learn to love the politics of karma and souls flying freely in an anarchist union. Turn off your radio throw a crowbar through plasma windows and speak to angels of real value.