throw it over here

the bone

toss it high into the sky

see its twisting spiral descent

wonder of its internal lattice

easy for the eyes yes

looking to the sky

and imagine the reality of freedom

the cage of person

the relief of one

imagining the possible

touches into sweetness

the only one


-Lahmadaj

upon thoughts

of life
wonder what i'm doing

space of time


-Lahmadaj

Bing

the Microsoft way to never find the information you're actually looking for whilst wondering around a maze of useless cross-references and perpetual linking.  But the advertisements are never difficult to find.

please Microsoft, what else is next to eat up my time, win 3.1 is long gone

-Lahmadaj

status

and mood

one can change these to allow others to see and know his state of existence

'yeah right

get real'

what realm is this emoticon

an imagined space

so to create a gathering of other non-existent spaces

does anyone care of the others' temperament regarding the taco they just ate

regarding the boil pained slowly on the leg

nope, didn't think anyone gave a fuck

the other is not here

i can not touch him

i do not see her face

i can not laugh with him

i see no light

there is no body

there is no embrace

no scent

there are only typed shelled words

expressing menial obligations to the man or pop

and i sit quietly

wondering when this stupid shit may suck me into the trash ball

or it already has wrapped its boredom around me tight

pulling the air away

i sit quietly

and wonder why i have few friends

and fewer loves

it may be easily my own inability

though it may be the prescribed life one claims as his own

how much of it is one's own

i suppose

the shit

the voice

the gas 

the blood movement

the bipedal stomp

i doubt any of the mind

except one miniscule fragment of light

which most contemporaries 

dress up in robes of pop culture 

and extravagance 

as though it really is that cool

as though they really give a fuck

as though they've expanded to such heights of awareness

though they know not when they've farted

or when they've burned down a youth

turn his skin into gold

we can wear it around our necks

and laugh heartily at our believed appreciation of art

of human

of the passion inside

read all about it in my status

my emotion 

my essence

the lovers know; the others blow

the night is breathing

the sun is low

-lahmadaj