Addict to Tears Shed

I'm an addict to tears shed
for the beholding of a work of
exquisite beauty;
by virtue of its well-fitted place
in the cosmos;
the imperfect perfection of human effort;
the light so easily accepted every morning.
I wish for no more time wasted...

I know I have seen you before;
I know I have beheld your face,
I feel your mysterious dreams;

In folding these cards I step aback into
the foray of these alternate realities,
with their bizarre logic;
and I wish to stay.


[22:53|31.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Yesterday

Yesterday can seem so far away;
Tomorrow a horizon we can never hope to travel to.
We often pass through the eye of a needle;
changing inherent traits of our persona,
in order to adapt to the vast myriad of experiences which
we travel through every day.
Weaknesses become reality, strength may diminish,
the mind becomes less acute with the passage of time.
Yet for those with a burning passion for understanding,
will indeed be provided with the means.


[22:02|31.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Limitless Humanity

An exigent excursion to my id,
to see the shadows there;
they play fluid figures with the light,
keeping in rhythm the laws of nature;

Now just to see a single tear, and wonder
how the cosmos twists to allow it
to be seen by me, and watch it fall;
and in turn my desire to weep;
without knowing its reason to appear.

::swim in the synchronized,
you've heard this before::

My heart burns and aches to
transcend its limitations;
to see through the 'eyes' of
every living thing.

but I am held back with the assurance,
that I might someday step outside the
boundaries of the universe;
beyond the discernment of the self;
and by the virtue of compassion,
view the cosmos of limitless Humanity.


[21:27|30.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

A Reversal

Contraversion of the capture of stencilled stillness;
illustrating color-coded levels of criminal awareness;
building on false foundations leading to a collapse.

Gravity in the weight of the decision

to eat itself, slowly, killing the tabernacle of its flesh;
never satisfied, it must become smaller and slimmer.

A mind tuned to the reversal of the sequence of
chronological images;
just the daily introversion leading to implosion of
the psyche.

[20:45|30.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Ninety-One Eye-Shaped Vessels

Ghost can't cut
and Ghost can't bite
but they sure do I said
made full of beerwine
and capital letters

elasticized and sigh
sigh in size
pull a weight down
the waist
and raised up
in paper cup

Ghost can't whistle
and Ghost can't recite
but they sure do I screamed
made full of oxygenated epsilon elevation
and capital offenses

elephant summit axis
burned out brown decay
ugly cathartic conscious calculation
liquefied lessons of
calligraphic balsamic vinegar
sideways street-stopped vacancy in
hollowed hallowed sight-freezing eyes

content with the fruitless
expression of contention
cut a dark parade
swallow beak-breaking stones
a further refried claustrophobia
dead in a pine box

Ghost can't bounce
and Ghost can't breathe
but they sure do I barked
made full of caffeine
and capital investments

Come out and live this misery.

[23:48|26.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Weekly Degenerates

Weekly degenerates bogged up
in scissored sharp array,
cutthroats in line on display,
now the day of decision,
relentless precision is desired
in identifying the culprit;

all that is required is to point your finger.


[20:43|10.11.011] ©c.thomas.carter

I Will Reprogram You

I will reprogram you.
You will receive a critical error.
As your mental system
is further corrupted;
You will be in my indirect influence.
You will absorb data
which cannot be fully understood.
Your algorithm becomes whimsical reaction;
bouncing input into output,
and vice versa,
forethought will be lost,
the dimension of bullet time
will consume you... until
eventually the glitch will pan out
and you will be forced to reboot.

Yet the ghost in the code
shall ever stay with you.


[22:37|24.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Solitary Confinement

Caulk joints kept the water from
breaking through the walls of this
mind.  The tile resonated with the
bleating of a psyche stretched to the
outer limits.  The drain devoured
dreams down pipes of subconscious
personalities.

The door to this mental measure of
space was locked from the outside;
Its ward voided of all memory;
replaced by spectres imagined from
the deepest depths of insanity.

Yet for all this, I remained.
Identity slowly returned;
As I narrated it from the beginning
of time to the present moment;
and I beheld the light of the day
once again.
Sol never before was so brilliant,
but the memory of the dark still stays.

[21:35|24.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

The Fifth (Song Lyrics)

Wet places under my finger-tips;
blood that I never believed.
I know that I am a stranger here, but
Hello, I've got to be me.

Market my traits or deceive her here;
I covet all that I see.
Mistake a fire of your smoke alarm;
I lick a roll of your steam.

-riff-

Break up my bowl of your silver stars;
hand out in my agony.
I know that I am in danger here, but
Hello, I've got to be seen.


(Chorus:)
-Break it out like this,
-I've never been the same since your kiss.
-Strangely out of place,
-I'm not the first to see your face.

-and silent,
-I won't be silent... anymore
-silent,
-I can't be silent... anymore


Beyond a fear of a grounded ship;
I picture all that I feel.
My razor cuts with a sharpened tip;
loose all the line on the reel.

You laugh the same every time I go,
and when I come again.
'Feels like the reign of a simple fear;
that some day you won't be here

-riff-

Break up my soul with your golden spear;
hand down in my amnesty.
Bless all these souls in your dreadful gaze;
tune in to my vanity.

[Chorus]

[repeat verse 1 and end of verse 2 progressively slowing and quieting]

[Fade out with Chorus]


[15:46|24.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Lower

Lower.
Going lower.
Deep.
Unfathomable.
Bottomless.

The catacombs
of the limbo of dreams.
Vivid and real;
the visions of
the schizophrenic.

I am still;
Still filled with quiet.
Unable;
Unable to comprehend.

Down down,
where dead does sleep.
take up a sword,
for some of these still walk,
still talk,
and will pull you lower.

Lower.
Going lower.
Deep.
Unfathomable.
Bottomless.

The Pit.
Casting nets into the pit.
The deadly deep does
fill the heart with introspection.


[22:32|23.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

You Laugh the Same

You laugh the same,
every time I go
and when I come again;
It's feeling like the reign
of a simple fear;
that some day you won't be here.
Now, now, I think I'm sane,
but however long I stay
and play this stupid game;
I keep on moving back to you.
Thus when the future's coming clear
I begin to rearrange
the words that made it near;
so they are lost again;
and my weeping face starts
to look a little strange
in beating up my excuse;
while all I feed it is my youth

[22:09|23.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Somehow, She Was Swept Away

Inorganic stasis,
underdeveloped pallor,
semantic callousness,
breaded sight of serendipity,

Contained within your own head,
you are never quite fully dead,
for humanity is who you are...
The sentence that never ends.

Spoken in the paradox of Time
We create fission bombs of thought,
sparked by beauty in simplicity,
or awe in complexity

Foreign particles collide
within our dreams of our own creation
the Ocean rises...
burying your great city.

Somehow, she was swept away.


[21:15|19.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Breaking Waters

lonely tides in a sea of forgetfulness
carpal tunnels of light-headed volumes
deep and bitter betrayal in the trust of love
so smoke you here, spacing time in
rhythmic percussion,
and I began depressions in your palm in
the bearing weight of our deserved agony for
the carpal tunnels of dimmed perception
the mast the ship the tumbling crash
over waves' crests we slide in liquid patterns

breaking waters, searching for oblivion


[22:23|17.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Fifty Bucks

I'll give you fifty bucks for it.
That piece of your mind right there;
and I won't go any higher.
We're talking cash money
and you out the door with it.
All you need to do is sit still,
and I'll take this hook;
reach around behind your eye,
and take what's mine.



[21:57|17.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Cerebral Gun

I have my hand around
the grip of this cerebral gun,
and I don't know what I might do.
There's a barrier in the psyche;
one that I wish to destroy;
yet part of me knows it's meant to be there,
for safety's sake;
but I'm willing to take the risk.

Whether I am cast into the deep,
and I drift forever.

Dream, dream, dream forever
for all that is seen is seen.


[22:00|16.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Until We Meet in the Sky

I wish I could go deep within myself;
find limbo, purgatory, pre-earthen paradise
fall in love with someone that can never exist for real;
allow her to build me, make me old,
caught in synecdoche,
building palaces with the mind,
transmitting music via thoughts,
making friends that never betray

I hear the swell of the cello.
She is beautiful.
I wish I could understand my love for her,
I wish she could understand it as well,

(So many people in between us;
I know I will never see the real her again.
until we meet in the sky.)

Pray you will one day search for me,
and I will be found.


[21:40|16.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Infinite Walls

There is a fountain inside of me
wanting to break forth through my tongue
wanting to express the indescribable
like the love of a mother,
the love a father,
the fear that someone you love will die,
the rapture when you know truth,
the passage of time,
the unknowable perfection of infinity,
the heart's burn with real love,
the heart's ache when abandoned,
the mystery of dreams,
the beauty of a tree,
the realization of beauty in everything...

only to have it fade.
I long desperately to share with someone
the feelings I have that I can't explain
why I am who I am
why I will be whom I will be
Stretching back and forth through infinity
we will all meet each other someday

But for now, I hide in my cave,
and walk the icy sidewalks,
beholding the people of the city,
at times faces never seen again.

Please break down my walls,
rout the forces that bind me,

O God, I am a sinner...
please have mercy on me



[21:07|16.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Four of Hearts Attack!

gulf's round conversation fumbles
stuck bidding myocardial beating accents
the crackle of an unidentified burning grass
bathing in the smoke
breathing in fumes
a diplomatic kick to the mind

it hits so hard he becomes blind
to everything but an uncontrollable
uncomfortable feeling of wanting to
escape himself.

Print the pressure of the spadework
actuate the articulate alibi

I was never there for instance,
for I never was anywhere in any point
or place in time.
All being in me,
turn over triangular hierarchy,
you are just another step
in a twisting ladder of trope.

Soap.
Soap.
Soap your brain.


Four of Hearts Attack!


[20:40|16.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Dust in Wind

Dust in wind, a sinful gust of
sand in grit of beating rust;

particles
collide
and
eat
away
the skin

a howling grim overture
for dunes' musical rapture
requiem for the exodus
of skeletal remains
of a need to clear my mind
'so stay behind'
the thought it sings
she sings in mortal coils
in oily contralto
yet the burning dead is here
nothing but bones without flesh
licked clean in howling waves of
salty flat and dry sea.

Oh well then,
I have a minute or so
before I die of thirst;
why not listen to her ghostly siren?


[20:08|16.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Dead Did Rain Acid Tears

dead did rain acid tears
with one what did mutter fears
flaking copper, nickel, gold,
flatted contract paper-fold

rain dear acid death with streams
brightness bones of polish gleam
with what did toner print for scorn
running low and paper-torn

void of days in foreign bonds
reddened trample least the fronds
raking stones in sessions' medium
bracing fingers in precious tedium

dead did rain with acid tears
barley-breathed did mutter fears
plating copper, nickel, gold
matted breach of paper-fold


[21:36|15.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

He Climbed So High

He climbed so high;
only to jump
and end it all.
As he fell
people gasped
and tried to get out of the way;
when he struck the ground,
a few people screamed.

A certain woman though,
had the impression
and grace,
to close the dead man's
now vacant eyes.


[21:39|14.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Chair

I don't know where this chair came from;
it's just here in my domicile.
I hang my wet towel on it;
'cos I don't care if the wood is damaged.
It lives in the corner of the room;
mostly unused and unnoticed.
Kind of like some people I know.


[21:19|14.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

A Life Ruled By

A life ruled by
fear,
addiction,
guilt,
pain,
sorrow,
psychosis,
narcissism...

Is mine;
yet still
there is
beauty to behold.


[21:15|14.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

A Kiss Stolen, and a Love Lost

Hollow.
Burned-up sorrow
in
a kiss.
    A kiss stolen,
and a love lost.

Perforations to the bones,
suction of marrow,
ligaments clipped asunder,
legs collapsing in clanking noise.

The ashes what remained
of my sadness
are buried in the river,
deep in its drinking of my memories.

Melancholy
madness
in
a kiss.
    A kiss stolen,
and a love lost.


[20:33|12.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Careening Towards the Paradox

I have a burden here.
I have a burden which I never revealed;
and every time I face my fear
it brings me near;
nearer to you
in memory's sweetest embrace;
the smile in digits'
instantaneous increments
of a love between points
A & B
in a sea of painted glass;
stained crass labours
reaching out
abbreviating time spent waiting;
careening towards the paradox,
where you and I always encounter each other
for the first time;
henceforth and forever.


[20:17|12.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Mixing Flat Ideas

Distilled pancake batter,
mixing flat ideas,
searing in the taste.
Burning liquid tongues of transition,
barking mad trees,
misinterpreted interment;

torturous glances of her by the wayside.

Some people just don't forgive or forget.


[23:45|10.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Human Dimensions

Each person we contact defines us,
however brief or deep the interaction;
humanity is a dimension in and of itself,
thoughts and substance meld into each other;
minds giving commands to the tendrils of our senses;
shaping the elements dreamed of in inward visions.

With thoughts like these,
I can feel myself almost in possession
of the sense of wonder and beauty that I lost;
The feeling of being on the future aperture of
'The Moment'

I've become disconnected;
Needing cybernetic extensions
for the lack of certain mental substances.
Who's to say that the technology,
that is humanity,
isn't recording all thoughts
far in the future from now...

yet no time is perfectly hardened beyond adaptation;

there is no such thing as the incorporeal;
only matter finer or greater than other matter;
even spirit and energy have mass.

[23:29|10.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Reconnecting Cables of Cognition

I often endeavor to see beyond the forced linear path;
randomly reconnecting cables of cognition
like voices in telephone conversations;
Meeting my time-traveling self and trading places.

I see a stranger in the mirror,
yet he still is my most familiar friend.
The wretch that I am still holds pearls;
clutched tightly in brittle shells of personalities.

I capriciously covet what I will know.
Trying to wake up in the endless dream;
Gaining in mental mass so thick I collapse into myself,
and my sight journeys into infinity.


[22:27|10.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Face-Lifted Attitude

Beaming streaming seams
of face-lifted attitude;
Corruption pulled tight and smoothed,
contours once contaminated,
now artificially refined.

Yet I can still smell the breath
under your guise;

Some foul things never change.


[11:49|10.1.012] ©c.thomas.carter