the 70's style of "Chop & Rip"

Sometimes we become hard and cartoonish, set in habit and comfortable in thought.  This world has abrasive, hurtful edges and cradling waters of pleasure.  The teeth of beasts finds the creator demiurge in a fogGod of its own making, reflexively devouring itself.  By course of habit and preexisting model, the fractal nature of reality, as above so below, bends its shape over creator god and human measure in similitude.  Thus we shape and consume our own self-modeled-made perspectives in the light of Nature and its endless eating and preying.

This train of thought is strongly Gnostic:  view existence by way of escaping flawed, blind creation.  Chaos thought itself into mistakenly forming order as a thought, pattern, and then recoiled in vile reaction.  Beyond the veil of active forces there maybe a receptive field in which all decays and dies only to rise from a hidden fostering growth.  The nondual offers existence the eternal opportunity to try it again.  This merry-go-round is too-old as never-has-been, and the ride justly changes supremely and wyrdly.  Whatever it maybe, betcha it'll be an other.

GPS as a Heart Odometer

Greater Professional Sensibility

keys into the Symbiotic Trio
Mozart Muzak and Nefasto Entradas
Ningunos simbolos de Tallo,
no stembol, more Nous
ORANGEUSORNORUS

empires end and once again extend
as the same incorporeal growth known,
instills fissures beyond insecure
news harping the echoes and smoke-filled
morphologies we learn by crestfallen
childhood mistakes making way
into Awisshood monotone trim below,
serenity, scorn, try, meaning, gnosis
or Oromonic trills

down there's a red chair, interior justice,
mannequin legs muckin' about

It's one of your nutters, his one constant
companion, Death.

the inside's bigger than the out

Billiken, God o' How Things Ought To Be

I am the God of Happiness,
I simply make you smile,
I prove that life's worth living
And that everything's worth while;
I force the failure to his feet
And make the growler grin,
I am the God of Happiness,
My name is Billiken.

I am the God of Luckiness,
Observe my twinkling eye—
Success is sure to follow those
Who keep me closely by;
I make men fat and healthy
Who were quarrelsome and thin;
I am the God of Luckiness,
My name is Billiken.

THE CHURCH OF GOOD LUCK

Charlie Koo & Eddy Eight Infinity

A sandwich, brimming with theoretical ham,
thinning sliced thesis,
a will she tries to understand.

Reducing compulsion every and watching
drugs work about, work back-cut
I-Ching stop writing and just live angels
forlorn TV detail play experimentspell
segment cells spell mansuit is
where sleep adjusts hair fast off
my loserdom Business, clean play, this
shaven tie-card-game spoken early
morning gets a mercury outta process
run heart out to Hecate patchwork
My rate of method influx goodwill
Up-depression is Thoth-spelled-images
There inspiration on Shakti efficacy
Calling Ganesh-success-mind take
Magick sword situation barriers of
deconstructionist walls
while camera ordered
documenting in words and play the hand
well free delight accept risk
disciplined-lila-multiverse
seek failure, groom, sit, run up

I move through the shadows of
the oversoul or dimensions
casting hardness and prison cells,
shells of obstruction and trials of growth-flow,
trying to maintain cheerfulness
while in search of the Presence.

Moving the fear while
familiarized with panic's gnosis.
inducing grace, short of breath
in the death posture,
manifestation is what i foster.

The Eternal Bluesman
is on the escape, he's on the escape.
The Eternal Footman
is on his trail, he rails by his fate.

go to the quick of that
which keeps me from flowing
keeps me from knowing

Go to the quick of that
which keeps me inundated,
ignorant and frustrated

Keeps me in the know
Simple in the gnosis
Folding all the chairs
enfolded in the process

a dialogue with the collective controller noosphere.