all of us together

.

Thought it was

it was thought

was thought it.

.

_{peace of mind. love of world. respect.}

.

time after time

.

Everything is changing but nothing changes anything

is changing everything anything but changing nothing

changing nothing is anything but changing everything.

.

.

hide and seek

.

Perhaps when sleeping

in another world

no broken hearts.

.

.

under the radar

.

The sky does not fall

look in that direction

eyes like fingers

knitting a worldview.

.

where is it

.

It is somewhere between

the breath of babies

and the smell of war.

.

.

zero and one

.

Even in dreams everything is outside the eyes

imagine all my baggage at the speed of light

if god is watching, her eyes are longer than mine

and heaven never answers

zero to nothing infinitely quick

i show pictures of birds to the moon.

.

.

after toys

.

The great game never stops

toys change constantly

hard to hold onto

can’t take with you.

.

hard lines

.

_{crumpled paper, magnets, iron filings.}

Silence has gravity

no beginning or end

it sounds like everything.

.

time travel

.

Sometimes its between the legs

sometimes between the eyes

sometimes between the ears.

.

.

i said to heaven

.

Have you been down here lately

do you take sides

why are you there

do you care

why is it like this

why naked prophets in rags

can you see it

what will you do about it

can i come in…

.

_{Q. Are humans wired to evolve telepathically naturally given the need of great sensory perception by ancient ancestors just to survive any given day. What have we become and will heaven help us.}

.

memory lane

.

At night when our eyes are closed

out there on the perimeter

poems are born, songs, paintings

stone walks and everything talks

just like you and me

historic telepathic memory

modernism as the crest of a fractal wave

where it came from, where it goes.

.

_{what happens next studio.}

.

perhaps its true

.

Perhaps gentle people

gentle people perhaps

people perhaps gentle.

.

all the things

.

Consider the earth expressing its consciousness

through earth fire water air

in hurricanes and forests

in volcanoes and ice sheets

underwater sea vents

in gold diamonds and oil

in all the things humans need want and go mad for.

.

.

what happens next stays in next.

.

Thats why i never walk under mirrors

end up a bag of broken dreams and empathy

poorly disguised as someone on the street

looking down to not step on ants

when i was young that would make me laugh

now i cry for him

how i wish we knew each other.

.

full circle

.

Life is mostly out there at the edge of every individual experience

but if you go backwards into life/consciousness

it goes all the way back to the same universe we look at.

.

_{peace of mind. love of world. respect.}

.

food chain

.

So all the caves of Plato

shadowy aliens on the wall

where pictures of Jesus

story of loaves and fishes

Cathedrals and Courthouses

next to bohemian shops

food and decay, with posters

perhaps the washing of feet

boots on the ground

poems that die at the eyes

scratched into the heart

how love is always hungry.

.

stopped making sense.

.

Everyone knows a broken heart

a hunger, a question an answer

has picked a flower, smiled at a stranger

has struggled, loves many many things

this river of happy sadness

take me with you when you go.

.

_{thanks for watching.}

.

a see through.

.

See the children of comic books

walking on the moon

slide rule no calculators

see the children of cartoons

immersed digitized transmissions

gets under the skin

a wrinkled old shit passing some baton

and everyone telling the truth

see the children of AI fingers

talking to clouds.

.

_{love, like telepathy, is hard to prove studio.}

.

a see saw.

.

How a falling blossom

beauty and sadness

down to the ground.

.

How the mind knows

the heart wants to catch

every blossom falling.

.

How blossom says look

i am flying.

.

a naked singularity

.

How far we have come

or what have we become

a whirlwind is in the thorn bush

where prayers hang like torn cloth

kings, queens, generals and priests in rags

and all the war medals in cupboards

and all the bandages washed for prayers

all the merchants rich and fat

words all in the same direction

how everybody knew a truth

but didn’t say it

because of the noise…

.

.

wag the dog.

.

good boy

bad boy

sit.

cry all you want

everybody else is

hive mind by distraction.

.

.

words for Dorien Gray.

.

It is me alone that ages

my inner self so mirrored

in itself a wisdom

and the painting was

never pretty to begin with.

.

.

everything happens.

.

Where love goes unspoken

like a hand knitted jumper

this is the front line.

.

a wonderful piece.

du musst nichts besonderes sein. du kannst einfach ganz in ruhe weitermachen + versuchen so wenig schaden wie möglich zu verursachen. 

Dear kaschpar, i just loved this so reblogged here. Really like your work. peace love and greetings from oz. gary j