Oh, how my thoughts

Tear through my open & stained mind

They feel like the world wings

Stretching out to scoop me up

Whilst I stand in this field of night

The dark curls in every direction

But I am not confused

Mother’s moon shines upon me

In the light of her eye

I learned how to fly

With the smell of the pines

Shifting through my cloudy mind



I calm with ease

As I feel the breeze



Against my eyes and in my spine

Oh crooked spine, don’t fail me now!

Mother please, Mother Green

Don’t take me out of line

Don’t let me lose this time

Keep my sight on her eyes

You can leave my heart dead in the pines

But just pick me up and bring me back home

Back to the only place I’ve ever known…



Oh go now, into your secret garden

Retreat into the trees that sway

They say to you “Oh my child, cry to me!”

So I wept to her

And this is what I say…



"My Sweet mother, I thank you

I will breathe all of you in.

The love is in your voice

I can hear it in the wind."

By Arcassin Burnham


..And while the void is not yet filled,
I still heal,
From these wounds in my backyard of pumping iron
And fighting skills,
In a place where they rob and steal and they don't care about how you
Feel ,
The day the earth shakes and the beams are steel,
Hope that they can seal the deal,
Past experiences and bad choices made me who I am,
Sending letters to my mind in form of a aerogram,
And at the time,
Riding my bike in Holly hill,
Sitting in sin and praying for the wrong things that Couldn't
Make me feel,
As vulnerable as the people that shouldn't be ,
trying to break the strong, persuade the weak,
Bullies use to call me weak , but couldn't see me in the street,
But I'm looking for eutopia and beauty so Divine,
Like a promise land designed for people that would give their
Lives and lay it on the line, I won't miss that opportunity,
Now Are You Coming?!



/


This pimple I popped to see a new hope come along,
Hope that God sends so much cargo that I will not go wrong,
Receiving hostility towards me all from your darker tone,
Feeling like you have to be an ******* because you think that
You own,
Me,
My soul,
My well-being off your throne,
Steady popping,
So much **** is dropping from my face,
And at this point upon this wicked world , What is the human race?
I question us everyday,
Senseless killings that mess up days,
You've made your time for these delays.

VOID
My blue bicycle breezing over the grass
silence surrounded, colors faded
I saw the void gaining mass
knees went weak, I pled
VOID
What lay beyond the darkness
of the mysterious black sphere
I didn't fathom what I saw, not even a guess
The green grass went sere
VOID
Should I surrender to the sans-khrôma
maybe it was free of war and worries
utopia itself opened to us
or was it an otherworldly bleakness
VOID
I took a step into the vacuity
There wasn't a deity
nor the promised eutopia
VOID

Eyes link with hands uncontrolled
Media mad man
You are the same you know?
Uncontrollable whispers are the way you speak
Who do you talk to?
What do you think you need?
Ardent admires of the fine high art
Eaten
Like an expensive appetizer with
A blood red wine to start
Numbers of neo-eutopia's plaugue the land with their ****
To run is to quit
To stay
Is to fight
With large stick

Calm down, calm down, your voice is raised but it cant get any louder than your beauty.

Calm down, calm down. Drive safe, drive safe, even when done having your fun & you leave I won't hate you, I won't ever see those flaws you see.

Wake up, wake up, no rush for me to wake up, your eyes hold the view of a sunrise that assures you the stories in the bible are true.

I know, I know, it's hard to have an undecided major, to not know where your focus is and on the other side all I'm studying is you.

So true, so true, our angels aren't always with us.

Sometimes, sometimes, it's just a temporary eutopia to answer prayers, It's just a vacation God gives us.

Just please, just please, be clear, be forward, be true.

Remember, remember, I remember your brain's scrambled, your heart hurts, just remember mine does sometimes too.

What we did was so innocent
Even when it was not innocent within itself
It still felt like it

The way you would hum a little tune as I let myself blossom
Such as a flower after a warm spring rain
For you

The way we couldn't even say the word
We came up with a code that was secretly ours that would make no sense to the outside world
Only we could understand it in our little eutopia

And now we've grown and we're not so innocent anymore
We've changed and we've gone our separate ways but now we're gravitating back
Or so it seems

I can't help but think of that blossoming flower
Of that funny little tune
And of the innocence that existed strictly between the two of us

Silken touches of the softest skin
Now draped across my naked form
Lying here in passions glow
Breath now rampant
In loving time

Moans of pleasure escape her lips
Like little dropplets of tears
Falling down onto my soul
As I hold her tight against my form

A summer breeze kisses the air
As skin on skin interlock with fire
Mouths eager to lock and taste
Passion is all that prevailed

Her thighs apart and now I rest
Eutopia being the hight of life
To lay here with her
Dreams of yesterday

Euphoria
Eutopia

Europe, eurturn
eugenic

eusless
eudaemonia

euphrenic phor ever

ah, phor naught, all for one

out, out, ****** spot, eu for Rhea,
me for a mnesic urgency,
we have done this all

before, while entangled ina

silliness of soma ancient sort
aitia
is joy strength
ening?
is love weak
ening?
was peace a state of mind?

Were they singing Sym-pathetic Sym-ethotic

silliness of some baser sort? Altamont

December 6, 1969,

rolling hills of green, like Windows 98,

where was I? Speeding

North of Sedona, I remember now,

lugging a tater sack
full of peyote
toward Christmas, far from the maddened crowd
thinking nothing
of
the future
March 7, 1970 solar eclipse as I was
walking
to Chicago, from San Jose, to see

if I could retrace my steps, per haps
find signs
I may have left on history,
exams
I may have cheated on to get by,
but my
cheatling left a gap

how now
how now
the we of me, includes your idea of we
with me intuitive as in
we,
the people who hold certain truth,

assumptive as possible.
real in this sense.

seeming not to fade.

Wandering in cyber-realms impossible,
with in-ness being me, my mind being out-ness...
me
touch, sense, taste, feel
me... let me
be
rhyme on rime, frosty, right on or i'm gone,
eh. Mimeme mnomena phem kiss me lest I

fade away

dysphoria
dystopia

dysrope, dysrturn
dysgenic

dysless
dysdaemonia

aha, phor naught, all for one spot

out, out, ****** spot,

is not joy strength
ening?
is not love weak
ening?
is peace a state of mind?
Being as how we was,

I'da reckon, we was lost.

As a whole,
we forgot who we are or if not who,
what we are

in terms we find undefined in our minds.

As Mobius means nothing in 3-d, until you
seal the twisted stripe and find an umlaut,

imagine seeing,
holding twixt thumb and any finger,
a ribbon, yellow on top,
blue on bottom… hold it eye level, an end
of the ribbon
in each chiral appendage, with the dominant hand,
no, poor biases on dominance

but right has a bias in forms  designated right by use…

crud risc -- we gain speed in the missing info
therefore,

we are born knowing nothing but which hand is right.

Using that right hand, twist the ribbon so the right thumb
touches yellow and the right finger is touching blue.

On the other hand, take up the opposition.

Now, bring the ribbon ends near enough to merge and weave
into a loop, an unorientable or unoccidentable
band ( imagine no seam),
twirl it round
not an eight, a Möbius band, a nifty invention,

ever in public domain and open
science of the non-con kind

confidence games. remember those?
bumpkins in the Naked City buying the Brooklyn Bridge?

laugh at the bar bar
heko heko har har har barbar aryans

swept into the south
as the younger dryas looked on… tic

-- okeh there was a break in the tension--

Möbius trails of information may be wownd,
'round spools of
do-nut shape entangled by the loop which,
as you know now,
has one edge and one side
in the world you live in, remember Muntz Stereo-Paks?

these days you gotta have an old soul t' remember those.

I stole the first one I ever saw, but that's another line of reasoning regarding the path behind me,

not regarding the path in front of you.

We are lost. Or asleep. That's been rumored as
have wars.

Ah, reason in a maddened being,
such a tangled web.

look for a yellow fuggitchew ribbon,
wit the seal broke…