2/3: Bad Zen Poetry Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Apr 08 00:41:42 1992 Some silvered mountains weave ghost-pale beams of broken silk a winter moon shines Moses 3/3: Bad Abstract Poetry Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Apr 08 00:48:58 1992 Rapid thoughts are clenched like sparrows of fire and light against a sunlit sky then are lost like a flare in the sun but thoughts alone come with cold, chilling mechanical precision a tower frame-lattice of glass, hinging on what is seen, crystal ice whirling, spinning killing in a slow/fast manner or way each person's thoughts coming now by second are more individual than their fingerprints Moses 8/9: The Gardner Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Apr 09 13:27:45 1992 The roses are red The violets are dead in a withered garden or two the rope pulled tight saints lost their sight the garden was a kingdom again thorns now grow in the shadows the shadows of a winter's eve the garden is a kingdom and I am its king Moses 17/17: ? Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Apr 27 16:38:53 1992 A little stressed out with a forty-five it's a serious case of burn-out. Never quite would have guessed he'd have put a bullet through his head Moses 20/20: A Terminal Case of Burnout, 2 Name: Moses #49 Date: Fri May 01 10:07:34 1992 A little stressed out with a forty five It was a serious case of burnout Tension attacks with annoying persistence The whiskey's not working right now A little stressed out with a forty five (a serious case of burnout) waiting here, biding time I'm a little too tired of waiting now after all It's a serious case of burnout no time, no time the walls are closing in (a serious case of burnout) no time, no time I've got my gun, I've got some time I'll be damned if they take me in now Moses 27/27: Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon May 04 18:33:56 1992 One Ummon said to another: "I can destroy me with a single thought." And I thought what power you must have. Moses 16/170: A conversation Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu May 21 20:29:24 1992 A conversation overheard: I will kill them all I am No Man I am God is a conversation best left alone moses the me 25/170: Hmmm Name: Moses #49 Date: Sun May 31 02:05:53 1992 RE: Holy Moses BY: Cassidy #66 catchy. How about this: Hey, rolling down, about thirty-five, a tire slips, the world collides, swerving on dead-grey gravel and all the time I have left I spent on a speeding thousand thoughts the foremost being gee, that car's awful close out goes the lights, and exit stage left spitting up blood and broken glass angels in blue and white asking hey, man, you've been unconscious what hospital would you like to go to? mumble, mumble, slip and reply, gee that car's awful close Heath with my cookies and fragments of dead-grey gravel rattling in my head moses in a blue heaven looking down 26/170: Tired, tired Name: Moses #49 Date: Sun May 31 07:39:44 1992 Tired, tired, going down I am so damn tired now time moving slow slowing me down cheating and then moving up tired, tired, slowing down time is the enemy (ticking softly) with each lettered rhyme time the cheater cheating me well, it's time to kill time time and time again time always wins and me no longer sane time, time, time here and there tired, tired, tired i'm sorry i'm just slow ing down stopped 29/170: antichemical acid trips with the New Orleans wizard Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Jun 01 03:28:53 1992 whoa, and lookee there death and jesus christ just walked into the 7-11 with black trenchcoats and black shotguns strange, thought, that death was a bald eyeless black man with his fedora and coat never pictured that as death and christ moved horribly slow and terribly fast and the african, skin dark as night, unloaded a single shell with a sharp crack of light into the chest of Henry, old poor dead Henry tumbled back and the christ, who sitteth on the left hand of God and the president of the united states judge the soul clean and no longer quick but dead and the clerk, peering over the side toward Henry, at the pooling blood, gestured toward his beer and said: "hey, are you gonna pay for that?" moses the gardener 34/170: Mister Moonshine Name: Moses #49 Date: Tue Jun 02 02:51:06 1992 hey mister moonshine whatcha doin' with that gun gonna find my father's son with this forty-five so hey mister moonshine whatcha doin' with that gun? gonna kill my father's son with this forty-five and hey sister sunshy whatcha doin' with that wasp? settlin' on the razor blade by that sprig of nightshade if you could, and th' hell you would come over, sit by me so hey sister sunshy why do you run away? is it just me is that what you see? so hey mister father time whatcha doin' with those rhymes? poems, lyrics, silver dimes still the beggarman. moses the weatherman 35/170: Hmmm...bored and reviewing the poetry sub I find bits of... Name: Moses #49 Date: Tue Jun 02 05:42:41 1992 RE: okay, listen BY: Ender #95 poetry that Ender wrote about twenty messages back. (Scroll back a bit, yeah, there you go...) hmm. How about this: all my life all the time I've tried to see innocence and white lives but still the black lies in the blackest lives stand still and distant like a rumbling church so they've warned me and so they tell maybe I'll listen and maybe I won't or maybe I'll see finally with unconditional reality the rumbling church and crucified saints and Judas betrayed 36/170: hmmmm Name: Moses #49 Date: Tue Jun 02 05:48:29 1992 RE: Life BY: War Knight #16 nietzche (damn german names) tells us that god is dead with the communist state and nealon speaks of false christian gods, figments of imagination and lies mormons say don't drink caffiene, you'll go to hell but buddha says this is inconsequentially important if all are true, then some make the others lie then how should I believe them all so I return to buddha with his koans and clap to his teachings with one hand moses the gardener 39/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Jun 03 03:15:34 1992 I almost squashed that damned roach with an idle footless boot missed once, missed again I'll nail him eventually moses 40/170: ?.... Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Jun 03 03:18:53 1992 merlin moses out of the sky watch those birds fall with saintly pride never would have guess it you the merlin watching, a small falcon at that you in your old brown felt hat and Judas crucified merlin moses 41/170: written works Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Jun 03 03:38:24 1992 I write these poems on electronic walls to be eventually scrolled backwards erased and forgotten I found a notebook of my mother's poetry old, yellowed and aged and I saw things I'd written yesterday and I'd see them done before forgotten bits of this forgotten bits of that it ended abruptly and I wondered why I would stumble across things I had written things I had enjoyed writing and things I had despised but it's still the same the words are lost and gone and the words will come again 43/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Jun 08 09:29:46 1992 infinity by zero is zero just the same and even if you're fast enough, quick enough to carve the water the shapes you carve are gone in seconds flat but the beauty of the water-carving lies not in the creation, for creations die and all things made come to an end it lies in the skill of creation it's all just as in infinity multiplied by zero moses the gardener 44/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Jun 11 11:13:01 1992 I was watching a pair a children one day one arrogant, but wishing the company of another badly, the other, unsure whether she should lower her guard to him (foolish, though, the first complained of this, still when he saw obvious sign that she would an he would ask others for their opinion of the situation) but one evening, still and quiet with the watcher's mind she asked me if I would get him (she'd done this many times before) and I complained, mockingly: "What, do I look like your errand boy?" And she said: "Fine, I don't care," perhaps misreading my humorous intent for social grace and I said: "Bullshit," seeing this game they played now in principle, "if you didn't care, then you wouldn't've asked me to go find him." I left, tired of human social games, looking for my room-mate moses 56/170: falling Name: Moses #49 Date: Sat Jul 18 13:29:31 1992 lewis was scaling a mountain of cold shear granite pitons hammered in, then the sky opened up, bright, blue, and beautiful and the pitons snapped under his unexpected weight the climbing cord snapping taunt when lewis fell he'd almost fallen half a mile to the mountain's base below crashing and breaking on granite rocks but instead he dangled off the side of a mountain wishing he had moses 57/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Jul 30 21:03:22 1992 oh please, don't give me that look you detestable little wench, you're ego is really too much to bear, me? court you? I laugh, ha stop being condescending, I would never ever stoop to that it's all so defensive, you know the majority of the games we play all so protective, you know the majority of the things we say no one wants to admit to anything that might give advantage to the other we play games of hard to get in hopes of being gotten it's all so silly, I suppose and it doesn't make any sense but I suppose that's one of the quirks (or is it perks, fringe benefits of the job, hazardous pay is more like it) of being, you know, it's all so human you know well, maybe some humans 58/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Aug 03 14:32:56 1992 on the outside looking in opposing philosophies arguing each on other side what is right what is wrong on the many glass sided sides on the outside looking in you can't see, you can't understand what you assume is right shouldn't be right at all on the outside looking in your on the outside or the inside, it doesn't matter hard not to be on a side on the outside looking in "you can't give up" yes I can 63/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Aug 24 09:58:03 1992 a sad thing the other day reminded me of a passing thought and memory, a twinge of painfulness, I suppose I have a head of sad memories sad pictures with no names and a nameless man and a car stole them all from me I meet people I do not know and have memories that make little sense and a head of sad memories regrets and ghost half-fragments she says: "You've lost your memories? That's okay" her voice smiling "we can go out and make new ones." moses 70/170: bang bang Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Sep 07 19:23:43 1992 bang bang, you're dead it seems there's a bullet in your head I suppose you were stupid and thought it was a game too late now, won't be the same as cowboy's and indians and the soldier games we play leave nasty little impressions shaped very much like bullets in a lot of guys heads 71/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Tue Sep 08 23:43:21 1992 I bled, a small globule of glistening red forming against white and reddening skin, (the skin had been scraped away by a misguided foot) and her hand brushed mine, leaving a crimson stain, no less than an inch long against her hand she didn't notice perhaps she stands now, wondering whose blood it is that lies on her hands 72/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Sat Sep 12 12:32:45 1992 I walked in a garden of mottled stone with a girl whose relationship with me was less bonnie and clyde and more abbot and costello later I made a paper iris (I'm not sure, exactly, why or how I remembered) from flimsy, greasy newsprint over-priced coffee and cigarettes, chuckling over slight little things sometimes it's better to be abbot and costello than ol' bonnie and clyde 75/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Tue Sep 15 23:12:04 1992 I watched a fool today who mocked what he did not understand it was amusing, I suppose watching him attempt a feeble joke in a certain sense, I felt sorry for him I watched a girl today whose affections remained amystery to me it amused me, I suppose to watch her pursue a boy who clearly held nothing (at all) for her in a certain sense, I felt sorry for her I watched a girl today who'd found a chink in the wall, through her actions her remorse, (though I think she has especially neat eyes) it amused me, I suppose some how, I dearly wish it hadn't (at all) I watched a fool today who mocked what he did not understand he tried a feeble joke and parody and missed the point of most poetry 76/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Sep 16 12:05:03 1992 I remember a wreath of withered clover, made for me, me, the king of spring (why she chose this title, I don't really know, if she were more of a romanticist, perhaps it'd be autumn, by she chose spring and a king at that) I remember quicksilver dreams of half-remembered memories things that can't possibilly be, all lying tangled, incongruent, inconsistent in the back of my mind I remember the ghosts, and how I spoke to them, fleeting wisping shadows of me, and how they talked back I remember the quick I had resurrected, and the ghosts that I'd made them I remember falling into silvered snow, the frost steaming crimson from my blood I remember things that make little sense atypical concussion, she said, memory loss is unusual well, this seems pretty damn unsual to me no continuity at all in memory, no key that I can see, "all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream" Poe was right, in his quicksilvery crazy thread-like way I remember what I shouldn't remember and wish I had forgotten to forget the memories at all she said I was being crazy just like my dear old dad well, father like son is a relative term 78/170: .... Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Sep 17 13:13:38 1992 It was amusing, I thought, how someone could be that condescending, it was interesting, I thought that he was close, but no cigar, well, stupid people do stupid things for stupid reasons, and assumption is usually wrong haven't quite found the top yet (never quite ambitious enough to look), playing fences is an allusion that only one person understands (and he probably misunderstands it himself) no thanks,I don't need to go to hell (I gots my imagination) yes, I can't wait, can't wait until I meet this poor, pathetic fuck, who actually thinks he can control his life with mysticism who attacks others and then attacks them for attacking back who forces me into using poetry as a weapon 81/170: goddamn Name: Moses #49 Date: Sun Sep 20 17:14:11 1992 there are some really, really stupid fucks out there, most of them who wrap themselves up in a false sense of security- (why is it, exactly, that they'd do that? well, Nietzche would have something to say about that, I suppose) false sense of control, a false sense of power all falsehoods, all illusions, all built up in defense- (wonder what, exactly, that it defends them from; themselves? hmph.) they scramble so quickly for a neon idol, flashing brightly, so easily shattered with the handy hammer of reason ("...your reality is nothing but lies, and I am happy to say that I have no grasp of it whatsoever!") pipedreams of whiten sepulchres, the naive notion of WhiteHatted Men, glass visions, ceramic revelations, paper saints and a neon Jesus, that's what little delusions make 88/170: //// Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Sep 28 00:19:37 1992 Sugar coated manipulation, controlled for your own benefit, I'm doing this for you You lie you do this for your self your will over mine elimanating MY self You lie this is not for my benefit but your own you do not love when you do this for it is hardly fitting to cage the nightingale (gilded cage, chocolate iced manipulation, and loving will you say tomato [toe-may-toe] he says tomato [toe-mah-toe] I say control [kun-trol] the strongest love is to know when to let go when to let a person be a person and let them make their own decisions (w/o your perverbial helping hand or emotional mallet of approval) let them go, or you do not love) good intentions are intentions alone and intention invariablly leads to action and the best action is sometimes the one not taken let go let go 93/170: :::: Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Sep 30 08:13:53 1992 yeah, I remember the summer hot, humid, but away, far away from anything Bradbury's dandelion wine, those memories of me walking out on my porch and wishing the wind would play the windchimes (one bamboo, one metal, and the final mismatched glass) but the wind wouldn't, 'cause it was still and hot, if wind could be dead, it was dead then and no longer play the chimes a child I would prod or hit them with a stick, hoping to hear them play yeah, I remember the autumn cool, slightly wet, the footfalls of winter creeping up, and at times it was very far away, indeed, Hallows a mark away, disguises and masks and yes, the cool, playful autumn wind would blow and gently play the chimes yeah, I remember the winter cold as hell, or what I'm used to, my nose running slightly, sniffling in the cold, dry, air, warmth held by a scant inch of fabric, running, and the wind did play the chimes in harsh, angry gusts, brutally, but the windchimes held, and the windchimes played in Mobile it was the fall's twin that spring, slightly brighter than brother autumn and they say that weather sometimes forgets the autumns and the springs skipping from summer to winter and back again sometimes we do, too. 107/170: ---- Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Oct 15 17:12:42 1992 a silly foolish man broke his watch shattering it into a hundred effective components gears and hands by accident, of course he tried to put it back together but only suceeded in destroying it further that foolish man gathered up the pieces again thinking of all the king's horses and all the king's men well, now when I count the clock that tells the time I notice that shattered time, broken time is sometimes worse than no time at all well, time to kill time time and time again sometimes you can't turn the hands back with that old gold plated knob 'cause time stopped and went away with a wild swing of the arm and time was irrepairablly broken when the foolish man wanted to know what made it tick and how to assemble the watch together again 109/170: ]]]] Name: Moses #49 Date: Sun Oct 18 23:39:29 1992 I used to dream such pretty dreams as nice as nice can be now cold reality will step inside and take them all from me I used to dream such happy dreams but now my dreams are dead I can't escape with fantasy from this evil in my head Reality is a boring game a game with many moves someone always has to win and someone has to lose I can quite lose what I haven't got just me and sanity I can't quite want what I haven't lost just me and dignity but, please, mrs sunshy don't take my dreams don't take my dreams don't take my dreams away from me 118/170: //.. Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Oct 26 01:04:17 1992 We all choose the instrument of our destruction whether by decision or circumstance we all choose 126/170: the color black Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Nov 05 16:52:56 1992 what, exactly, does the color black taste like wrapped around you like blood warm fabric black as her kettle, black as night and tasting of two hundred dollar cognac what does black sound like a thousand strumming chords and all thoughts notquitegettingthrough smothered by consciousness she surrounded by candles and the black reminding me of songs I had killed she so much like me, but not in so many different ways a pair of sad jesters or by another defintion fools she knows what black tastes like and while we differ on the approximation we know the effect 127/170: porcelian Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Nov 05 17:35:37 1992 here I thought I danced in a garden of stone but it was one of porcelian fragile glass blown flowers and delicate irises, made not from fifty pound but by bible thin paper hope I don't get too close and scare you away or get too far away (remote and untouchable) it's a quicksilver scuplture this life of mine don't jiggle too sharply even a watercarver prizes his art highly 130/170: hey Name: Moses #49 Date: Fri Nov 06 00:44:04 1992 shakespeare's daughter saw her name carved in stone reminding her of her own mortality her hand, petting my hair and we sit at the steps of a starry night and unconsecrated church (cold concrete) a laugh, then a coughing fit reminding me of my own [mortality] no I am going to live forever and so will she 143/170: lkk084343094304304304304304309434304304785402192-18-1`831184 Name: Moses #49 Date: Tue Nov 10 13:30:22 1992 I must have killed ten thousand ants today crushing them with the slight killing weight of my hand then ants coming over their dead brother's tracks (pheremone trails, wipe them clean [with greasy piss yellow soap] and they'll've not known where they've been) and i realize the hideous futility of it all and ten thousand insect corpses litter my room I must have drunk ten thousand sips of that clear death of ethanol a slight whitehot sear of liquid emotion a few more sips to remind me back to where I hoped I was (but wasn't) and ended up poisoning myself, the vomit and spit coldclear in crystalline strands from my lips I never got back to that goodwarm feeling no, never got it back and i realize that hideous futility of it all and it almost kills me the light at the end of the tunnel is the headlamp of an oncoming train and as i hear that silent screaming whistle cut through and tell me the time of day i realize the hideous futility of it all now futility lies in action and in mind as well but remember when you see the ants and me poisoning myself a bit more and when you hear the train or carve that water sky or look upon me with your remaining good eye strumming those chorded steel threads and my hands stained with the blood of a thousand ants and fingertips bruised bloody and black (wondering what black tastes like, wondering, wondering) you can realize that there is a certain freedom in not having the strength to give a shit 163/170: ///? Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Nov 16 00:19:04 1992 i have not found God say hello to him for me when you find him a silly man once went looking for God under a few rocks and up in a few trees he questioned where this God was now knowing where he was not the stone Jizo stood in the grass watching this foolish man the Jizo knew where this God was not in the destination but the search say hello to him for me when you find him 50/200: sitting Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Nov 18 19:25:23 1992 sitting there, sitting in a daze everything slightly out of phase 'girl walks up smiling starts to wave and me sitting there, sitting in a daze [sitting there, sitting in the grass someone there, starts to laugh lazy day, lazy clouds I wonder if they'd let me there, up above, in the sky, flying there or falling free in the sky] sitting there, sitting in a daze everything slightly out of phase in is out and out is in always counting, counting sins smiling girl starts to wave everything out of phase up above, in the sky sit alone, never cry in a crowd, everywhere staring on, staring there sitting there, nothere here in a daze 55/200: >""" FN : fb7 Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Dec 03 00:03:27 1992 four hundred twenty three faces attended the funeral of icarus that day he fell from the sun they watched with mechanical glee six coffin bearers and two hundred to nail it shut that day he was buried in the permafrost ground his father looked upon the procession with with sorrow not for his brittle and broken son, smashed like a rotten pumpkin against ferroconcrete, but because the glue he had made for his son's flight machine did not stand up well against temperatures higher than four thousand kelvin. he flew staring down with wings made from string and chewing gum four hundred twenty three faces stared down at the broken corpse that corpse that fell, that day that day he fell from the sun his wings were not quite stronger enough not quite wide enough, and not bound with the gut of crucified saints four hundred, twenty three, looking two hundred nailing, and a mere six carrying a very young boy with broken wings a very young boy who flew too near the sun 58/200: )()()0329543098irrroj5430543054lj3=-=-3404385400u32ln43u4309 Name: Moses #49 Date: Thu Dec 17 00:21:27 1992 and there I stood, standing in the rain, the rain needling down hard like slivers of ice, and my voice growled, like a trapped animal in pain, "when you do this to me, things wither, things die..." and I turned, walking away with the cutting pain of old notched razor blades crawling in my gut, spliting my skin, my heart, as an over-ripe melon and I say this now with an fluid emotion as cold as tasteless, as liquid, as the winter's rain on my tongue and winter's kissing death-cold wind on my lips and it all needles down hard like slivers of ice on my tongue 60/200: 99080942rkjkkjh4298u0984390054nioj54309u950j--a_____________ Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Dec 21 15:49:58 1992 Hey, look at that, he has a yellowed plastic Chinese god sitting on his shelf. Which one is that? War. And the one next to it? Wisdom. Interesting combination, I suppose, but that's the way the two-hundred year-old fool wanted it (oh, excuse me, two-hundred and ONE), pairing those gods in well, what some might call the unlikiest combinations, yet perhaps, the likeliest of all, crazy, hazy, lazy old man, we got good stuff for you, a gooood place for you to place your gods, wooden box, with the black stenciled letters of DETONATING FUZES CLASS C EXPLOSIVES HANDLE WITH CARE old hazy, crazy, lazy old man, time to hide you gods in a wooden box of a potential holocaust in fire and light, don't jump stumble, crumble, step and light, you crazy, hazy, lazy old man, for this box seals your gods, crawling, falling, stalling and not one second has ticked on that Timex of Eternity, and if you step falters, you better watc 61/200: 9jio/'';[-43-=3432 Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Dec 23 18:41:32 1992 I remember when you used to hug me like I was a telephone pole tight, secure, and my chin rested in the top of your head then you'd let go, this thing that felt so alien, touching, quickly like a child caught doing something she wasn't supposed to the embrace was so childlike I miss it 74/200: 98754897iu84i59459kjreqlkre043090940-_---____-====-__+-32857 Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Jan 06 01:02:35 1993 everything is something from a certain point of view but looking from a different angle everything is nothing, too 80/200: iipe09-093909-032-0lklkllkew090932...38u// >>>** 0809821IIII Name: Moses #49 Date: Tue Jan 12 00:17:29 1993 bigger than a bread box smaller than my mind giving for recieving watchers tend to find nonsense and random thoughts are my daily bread if this makes any sense mishear what i've said: "bigger than a bread box smaller than my mind giving for recieving watchers tend to find nonsense and random thought are my daily bread if this makes any sense mishear what i've said:" for ad infinitum 101/200: .>,,, Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Jan 25 02:48:35 1993 there are a thousand different parts of me I'm sure one of them relates faces thousand I always see I wish I could escape the fading fantasy and paradigms of failing logic true oh, just let me count the times I've walked away from you your face hangs always there your smile so darkly grim your eyes so dark they match your hair, and persona neatly trim which pretty face wear you here? (I know which mask I always wear) is it truth I watch you fear? an open book where words are fair? [and in final naysaying reference] but should you care, dear lady, with my parting to morpheus accompanied by his sister, her nephew and look at me now and listen damn good and well your smile so warm and killing 'tis a casket it is filling 103/200: a prayer Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Jan 27 01:19:42 1993 "Yes, a prayer, a prayer that I submit to you, the gods of luck, if any of you poor bastards are still alive as you most luckily might be, the gods of luck, the Lady of the Almighty Bell Curve, to the god of quantum mechanics, probability theory, and many worlds hypothesis, to the butterfly who creates the hurricane that kill the thousands, to the beauty of the eye in the beholder's skull, I sumbit my prayer, and remember, dear god of quantum mechanics, I have done nothing that I wouldn't be let into heaven for, remember, butterfly, of your chaos and your sensitivity to intial conditions, and remember, gods of luck, as some of you maybe be luckilly dead, and remember, dear Lady, how I love you so, remember, just let the dice swing my way, just let the dice swing my way and I'll be that happy section of the bell curve as it approaches perpendicular-" Imagine. Just imagine my surprise. 124/200: :;p;2 Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Feb 17 15:31:27 1993 stuck inside a silvered room bars wrought from cold black steel looking out in a looking glass and seeing only me. stuck inside a glass sided cage bars wrought from a wreath of rose and carnation and daisy, wild flower (nightshade) with cleverly concealed thorn and all is spent looking in to look out a looking glass seeing only you. stuck inside a tesseract this cage and silvered cell no locks, no doors, no eyes to see any escape at all; looking, looking, what's to see? feeling, feeling, what's to feel? escape, run with me now, taking those eyes you steal a flower, a flower for you, a wreath, a wreath for me, pretty, pretty poisoned petals shrouded in silver rooms and glass cells flowered death and caged ruin and cleverly concealed thorn 131/200: ... Name: Moses #49 Date: Fri Feb 19 00:27:51 1993 On my wall carved in blood a sign reads DON'T WORRY, BE HAPPY next to a hemoglobin smiling face well, blood rots as all things do metal rusts and dreams shall fade time does fly and people die and thoughts come to me of late I remember times of black, grey and dead I recall different things I've said but the most helpfully unhelpful has been carved in blood 133/200: ..)) Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Feb 24 01:44:16 1993 listen, the moths are whispering with a quiet flutter of wings flames dance in silent harmony and the moths whisper their glory when the liquid screams from the wings so pale and singed. listen the moths are whispering listen, the flames are singing with a flutter of bright yellow flame the moths dance in silent harmony and the flames whisper their glory when smoke ghosts and writhes in ecstasy during an orgasm of death. listen the flames are singing 170/200: 2 Name: Moses #49 Date: Mon Mar 22 00:18:00 1993 stories speak of the blindman's king who walks the sightless land stories speak of his eternal death killed by blind men's hands. There are a million separate parts of me, I'm sure one of them relates. A shred of me is trapped in you, trapped with no escape. They say Cain is exiled, gone, away east of Eden, marked with a sign of sevenfold, so that no one may even harm him. But in the exculded books, the ones not allowed, a certain thing is said: a blind man kills the son of Eve and the firstborn now lies dead. The no eyed man is innocentt of his crime against his God. He did not see the sign that protected the firstborn man. Do you ever wonder about the son of man? if some of him is inside us? and we are killed by no eyed men? No blow is killing, or blade is sharp, no strike is crippling, or club is hard. Are you curious of these million separate slights? Are they errors in social sin? Or malicious bits of spite? Do these people wish to hurt me? Or do they care at all? Am I sealed with the sign of God? Or walk as the blindman's king? Come, Azrael, come now and walk with me come a little while and speak with me, For better I walk the deadman's dance than wander as the blindman's king. [so what if the meter's a little choppy in places. Rhythm has never been my thing, anyway...] 196/200: >//>:L{# Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Mar 31 21:18:48 1993 there is a certain voice inside my head speaking with a sighing grin of fluttering moths and flame there is a certain mask i save for the person for which i humor endlessly for that is what i am endlessly for that is who i am endlessly there is a certain wanting that hits me with needles of dull pain somewhere inside my chest and the pain causes me to laugh so hard so hard it kills me and so i think of illusions and sighing, grinning voices who misunderstand the needles which cut through my mask and no one sees for that is what i am endlessly for that is who i am endlessly epitaph 115/200: lack of a proper avenue of communicaion Name: Moses #49 Date: Wed Apr 21 00:25:56 1993 ode o he leer ode o he leer ! for i shall no appear in his poem ode o he leer ! for i can' quie ype i now ode o he leer ! i's dissappeared from my life woe, i's gone, and confusion spawned and uncouned amouns of srife.