Visions Of Life
Poetic Hippy Mountain Men
Here is something quite random that I find amusing. When i
lived up in Gunnison, I dressed like a goth, hung out with
redneck goat farmers, fucked football players and lusted
over poetic hippy mountainmen.
Free Writing- 5/12/02
An idea came to me last night while I was knee deep in
darkness. It's funny how our most profound thoughts come at
weird times. Be it in the middle of making love, watching
some football, or in my case, taking a midnight stroll, the
screaming lyrics of ICP pulsing past my ear drums. At least
in my case I was able to stop, sit down on the sidewalk,
and take a moment to actually delve into my thoughts. You
cant exacally do that in the middle of sex. "Honey, I love
you but please stop. I just thought of a way to increase
the productivity of rainbow trout breeding which, by using
Avagodro's number, I can rid the country of all Republicans
in office". Any hormone driven male, or female for that
matter won't care if you've found the formula for world
peace. Delaying oncoming orgasm is not allowed. Brilliant
ideas can wait a few thrusts, right? But back to my idea.
Funny how sex can always dominate one's thoughts.
I look about, where yonder, a
Simple flower caresses
My thoughts, extracts them from within.
Twiterpated, but something outside
Lures me in, like the silent
Ticking of a clock about to
This mullmuzzler pounces
On my soul like a ravenous
Tiger, running away to reach forward.
Confusing like an unworded
Charter, I glance up to look down.
A flash. Perhaps my mind.
Necromancy, unknown yet tangible
To the naked hand. But alas,
What lies within? 'Tis this the
Of my own destruction? Or is
Thou a twisted illusion sent
From above to tinker with my
Breath in. Look to the ground,
The budding weeds. Breath in.
Grasp my inner being from the sky.
What lies trapped in emptiness.