How To See Them

LABA/ THEM




May we meet in between.

Because these people. they're heart-breakers

Poets , thespians and meaning-turners.

Mind-shapers.

Opinion-smiths line your walls, inner and outer. The voice inside your head is the football game announcer. The silence is a vase falling in slow motion. Self rule's demise punctuates its self in the cracking sound of vase meets object of impact. Floor. Floored. Or flawed, who's sure anymore? The reasons for reason have fallen on tinnitus-ridden ears.




Heard too much and learned to little. These people you know.

They could be contract-fakers. No deal is safe from the grubby hands of greed. Power control, wanting mutates into need. What then? People become deal-breakers, seeking freedom from birth given contracts that are as incontinent as the babies they entrap. Traps first, then lures. Whips in between. Don't meet me there.




I was in between, but was chased out by lashes at my uniqueness. Bruises born from personal excellence. Don't identify me with any green book. The Id is not the I.D. The names on the baby certificates are not we.One must certify birth? Don't kid me...

These people, bureaucracy-builders.

You are begged. Do not touch these people. They stink of money and debt. These people. Them? Genocide-planners. Economy-assasinators. Best believe they're a part of us yet something else. Sword-swallowers and magic-dabblers. Smoke and mirror handlers. Crafters of built environments wanting to shape your universe. Beware. Brain/Canvas. Same. Beware. They want to bar-code your name. Similitude is the same as actuality. The clone becomes the source. The end becomes the beginning and the stomach of peace eats itself. The future is how we design it. Would you like to make a bed and lie in it? They would like to shit in it. The gene pool, sense pool and soul ocean awaits their toxic waste from weapons research. These people them. Life-takers, energy wasters and man oh man do they infuriate us.




You are begged. Do not touch them. What will become of you? How will you meet me beyond the solar system if you still worship the son, sun. Same. Sans sense, I tell you. God being you are, I tell you. Gods are implored by the worshipers below. Become your congregation. Pray to self. Become better for it. Sublimate thine consciousness wide into being. This occurs when pure sensibility runs your limbs. The limbs know the controller is beyond flesh. So flesh your self out. Then get out of flesh. You must become of you. There is wisdom out, in around this. You are begged.