this is NOT a test

mind numbing atheist mind athletes are tearing to pieces, my awakedness.
i'm slipping slipping slipping-still the rearranging has got me started, again.
its started over again. can you believe it? its only an intentional scream.
burned into the acquaintance schemes.
turn your back
judicially scramble your reckless standard. pour it into the socialist mind camp pool.
this is the test. answer 1-8 is irrevocably unanswerable.
this is NOT because we've lost sight of all brotherly love or national security.
this is NOT because of the interest rakers ripping smiles into the lowliest criminal activist.
im not even gonna say what im gonna say.
you guesswork intellingence. laugh all you want, but the threat of civil crisis remains on the tongues of the open armed sensationalists.
televangelism is our only way out.
remember to add the equality of madness to the quotient, this will make it known to the entrenched brothers.
grandurism- this is the idea- complete the idea.
numb numb numb. no other listless servent could even decide.
once again tie the limp ships to the fervent monk's peace sleeve.
gracious servent, speak again into the microphone.

don't worry. don't climb. don't see.

we're gonna tell the torrential face, sacred scum bag.
this is not the last of the life they knew or collapsed in.
this is just the creeping mystical nuances.
questioning practically all neverending screaming, you're doing it into the skyless mind that betrays my ears.
this is not the last.
last is not the end or first or beginning. can't you not understand the immediacy of the crumbling tower? the guard is calling for help, and you just left him in the rain falling snow, blanketing is every move.
this is not the last
don't worry/don't climb/don't see
years have danced on your open palms
just as they have done to millions of other tree barked mistresses.
don't worry
the white pretty bearing skyward is nearless.
its eating away the insides of the carcass you cling to.
but it still does not understand the meaningless ecstasy that permeates your gifted follower.
ruminates on the ground of intimacy, clutched around the treacherous.
this is but the last.
greet the mass.
one hundred trials by fire later and it still is cut short/horrible insight, darling.
return, baby, teach your self to learn.
this is not worrying.
this is not caring.
welcome to the post-century yearning disorder.
wave goodbye to the insane, wince at the light, burning holes into your immune corruptibility.
trade your soul for several yearly prizes, spend a little more to toss in a few prizes.
watching everything at once overwhelms your bleak, barren, and bland. overlooks the passage of time, death, welcoming and expressions.
i will say
goodbye/or
the end.

together we're still inevitable

The boiling serenity of economic dystrophy simmers in the sunlight as waves come crashing down upon the elderly positions. Bound for glory. The hooded mechanisms of night surround themselves in collective socialism. Forever embroidered on the hearts of the young. Still we wait gravely as the last few penalties make their way to the new side of the prison.

She sees, but unknown is the angry disposition, she’ll fight for others but not for herself, disappointed and malnourished we return to anger and jealousy- engulfed in mindless games of far off Arabia. There is no tomorrow. There is now and then. We must reverse the order of the menace. Told once to the shipbuilder.

Untold notices are stinging our wounds, fresh from the quarrel, we still have yet to find the green gates.

Another powerless instinct flows through the veins. Ready to pounce at any moment. I need to obtain the understatement. One or two syllables more gets us out. Together we’re still inevitable. A chilling reminder of the image on the wall. Still eligible. Tonight, we made it.

Incorporated numbers

waitin in the eyes of some grim idol/told to heave silently thru the nite but still unknown to the searchers was the all seeing knowledge of truth-
embedded in the sea of wailing ecstacy then we spout incorporated numbers thoughtfully while the egotistical trenches learn the ways of recycling paper money. Coins are thrown over board as the irate businessmen and the girl from tomorrow tell tales of fierce longing -
to know the truth behind the days of now until the almighty deadhand falls limp to the ground, touching your body like something out of a film. this is not the end you scream, but somewhere in the distance another few are brainwashed
this is but the yelling noise. emitted from pirates eons ago, somehow you still know the truth, but what isnt truth nowadays?
so you gather emphatically the last of the gone. but still the waiting kills you like some sort of mystery. you'll see it as you cross the room, hidden in false wastebaskets, built for religious methods.
you act as though you need something else. some kind of savior or watchful eye. you need respect and a bitter enemy. this is but to know how to survive as you pull yourself from day to day not knowing if its your last.
you still wince at the sight of the person.
this is your last chance.
one more answer as before and its over for you.

please stay nearer

so the blanket of safety that covers me is
gonna come off soon.
but pretty much i like to wait around on bus stops
or street lamp corners
or cold breath feeling
so i dance in the yellow din of oncoming traffic
flirting with the safety of all of the young starving millions
once i see into the future i will know whats happened to me
in that time between birth and discovery
and ill yell it to the multitude
tell them what it is i know but no one will understand me
because i'm a half-cynic-user
so once i find the idea of the times, i will implant it into her brain
and she'll switch on like the night.
i'm staying up forever
til i see the day of light
or the night of day
see it creep thru the doorknobs, and grow, elastic over the neverending starlight that
caresses are deepness.
see, i thought about it too long, and i just want to make something for you to not make you
so anti-sleep disorder depressed. a remedy for the ages.
then i'll cut the locks.
and walk into the safe unhanded. frivolous with fright.
teaching everyone everything because it all really does mean something.
somethings are lies.
and you cant say what you've said
for it is a crime against the federal reserve bank.
entrenched in ironic gains of eastern religious movement.
all this dirt is pouring.
so please just take the wheel while i fasten your seat belt.
and wait for further instruction from the ever present gate watcher.
he knows what we need.
an electric shock to blow our minds.
so we know how to see
the road in front
until then i want to know something. let you know it as well.
but first
i gotta travel thru the angry hordes to find the lamp. put it on the rock.
then i'll smash mirrors in your favor as i search ever blindingly.
but i'll sing high. low.
then once its over.
i'll say to you
"you are the best thing i've ever seen" or "please stay nearer"