Jooosh

I stalked down the pothole-laden back road, avoiding the revealing light of the street lamps, and approached the house. “Tiara and Ingalls, been watin’ for dis night, my sweet,” spoken in a smoky whisper, foggy breath escaping from my lips. Her room’s window, second from the left, luckily only a single story building, I thought with a sly grin. Slipping through the gate without a sound, slowly creeping to the window, the glass fogging as a shaky hand is set on the dusty pane. Applying pressure and sliding the window gently to the side, it opened soundless and smooth. Pushing through the curtain I crouched on the sill. I pe

I am the sun and the moon I wonder the existence of these beings I hear the progress of the world screeching to a halt I see the collapse and relapse of civilization I want to sleep until the world dies I am the sun and the moon I pretend to care I feel nothing at all I touch the edges of these worlds I worry that my light will give life to the wrong beings I cry for my hateful strife I am the sun and the moon I understand the world’s hatred I say the words of my belief I dream of the world’s release I try to destroy this life I hope to live in solace I am the sun and the moon

Standing alone on a dark street corner, the lights slowly flickered on along the empty road. The once-dark figure was now illuminated by the warm orange glow of the lamps. He glanced up at the signs that adorned the only stop light in town, light washing over his masculine features.  The signs read Tiara and Ingalls.      "How long's it been?" He muttered to himself in a low harsh voice. His eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in thought, as if dreaming of something from memories past.      "Eleven, long years ago, I stood here in this exact same spot. Why has it called me back here? Is there some dark purpose?"      The sunlight bur

The life of a sponge is that of mystery. Sinking and floating, eating what it may. You must follow the current, to where ever it may take you. -exerpts from the journal of everything The young man tall in stature and masculine in feature, stood upon the rocks. Without purpose without meaning he dove in, and began to float amongst the frosted white caps of the swelling sea. His body heaved to and fro with the unrelenting sea. As the tide ebbed, he was caught upon the rocks and once again stood against the skyline, the sunset leaving trails of red and pink across the oceans surface.  

Waiting for it My fear growing deep inside that this life is just a wisp of a dream. nothing more than an insane delusion of some mental patient or the dream of some child, more of a nightmare at times. All these people that I know, instantly falling out of existence, becoming nothingness. Except for her she will remain in the mind of this loneley dreamer, because she is his love his dream his desire, the one thing in life he longs for. Waking up to the phone ringing, picking up the reciever bareley able to let out the question every person the planet asks when they pick up the phone, without an answer sweat dripping from every pore coating

George and his poodle headed comrades make contradictory statments in your sac of faster blasters. Strange it is to be in a strange place, the strangers there are strange to you and you to them. tracklesslands places with no end, walking endlessly through the world finding new places but not setteling. Others found there place or forced one upon themsleves. shirtless pantless and wanting a place to stay, nowhere to be, this is not their place. Fungus filled appleskins spewed across this broken land. Pens and pencils fighting off the swords of the world. The play on words of my face out of my mouth, the look in their eyes, the look of the craz

Strapless pants and a sac of poodle poping penguins. Coco Roos of the tapestrieless castle of a crumble. Heartless men and women working from their heart, using their experiences to fuel their work. Quack goes the simple minded fool losing his mind to the pipe and crystals of the dealer, in the back alley. Alone yet with his friends, friends using and abusing him. lovely ball of human flesh hairy and pink, pale and dark all rolling about, their passion driven orgy. inhabitions lowered by the drug of their choice, the addiction of their lives. Fueling their need to be with one another, feel the warmth near them the pleasure of their bodies bum

Corrugated lawn gnomes and pizza pot pie a sac of ju-jubes in a gentle breeze. Popless parties and the pill popers of the world. A new Rush Limba in the making, spouting their minds over the radio band. Some listen others not caring scan over it for their selection of mind numbing noise. An itch, the feeling the need for a good scratch. The need to replicate, reproduce, spread our genes to the four corners, or just the corner whores spread legs. procesed foods, the only thing to eat, the only thing around. In the corner store, the big surplus store. Fat filled sugar stuffed balls of a heart attack on a bun. They taste good they must be good