Acrylic Rain

Waiting for Color to return, for
it to be new again. I watch as my
portrait rots; it feeling the
guilt and shame that I do not
feel.

Acrylic rain, painting the ground
in plastic; yet I do not see it.
As my feet affix to the surface of
the earth, I feel less and less...
watching light flee for the
darkness.

The shade of Shadow, I know it
well for I dream in it every
night; Chaos comprised of
distorted memory; nothing ever
being made clear or to serve any
purpose.

So as it can be seen, ofttimes I
wallow in self-pity... but, it is
for the stupefaction of my sensory
perceptions, that I claw to find
beauty in waking reality again.


[22:16|31.12.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Organic Animation

A mind handed down in forgetful afterthought;
tossed to the wind and left to float on
endless sound waves.  Her fingers strike fear
in the cores of her strings; resonating cosmic
vibration to the hearts of nameless transients.

Separated by annual oceans, one wonders at the
souls dripping through the cracks of a
fractured society.  Why so many are bound to
fall, while a small few reach the last solid
ground in the macrocosm.

Twice damned in a flawless rendition of
organic animation; she enters the dreams of sleep
for a final performance.


[20:18|29.11.012] ©c.thomas.carter

The Finer Vintages of Escape

Blue, blue; a diagram for sight and scythe, burning the
incense for its amnesty, the heart is cold and
medicated; smelling nothing but the scent of apathy, a
poignant reminder of the furthering difference of
personalities in dreams and waking life.

I forget the surge of electrical thought, traveling into
spiral vectors of old mental disease.  Magnificence
displayed in spider-silk weaving detours of patterned
cognizance; teaching me virtual nothings whispered in
winding tunnels; blocked by the tribal drum of selective
hearing.

Lazily exploring cartharsis for hypnotic suggestion;
dispatching the memories of bridges over impassioned
chasms.

Beat. Beat. An overture of brass screams out the
vibration between moments.  Empty bottles clatter as
evidence to slurred lectures of the finer vintages of
escape.  Chirping pulses of fused circuits sing the
blaze of green dynamite; haunted bells and forced
dancing of the joints.

So slip we off the fuming oven to the filth of the floor
below.



[15:39|12.11.012] ©c.thom

Posthumous Tyrannical Deity

Cold halls chanting spectres of the deep;
Basso resonance dancing through corridors.
Planes of Being altered, as vision cleaves
Asunder the fluctuating barriers of reality.

I drip posthumous tyrannical deity,
While the Moon casts obscurity over facial features;
leading wanderers to their ruin.
Ice in the veins of my fingers.

Dreams without end.


[19:03|09.11.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Ghost Chill

Ghost chill; I hear The Voice.
So many drawn below,
shifting position in queue;
waiting to spasm my sight.

In flame glow I waltz a last in fumes.
Blood tattoo an underwhelming heart,
low-fidelity rapture stirring cello-strings;
aerating of plasm in sweeping theme.

Ash, ash, all to ashen whisper;
moments spoken in fear.
Acid-decayed thoughts in throes;
Burn, burn, crumble ember, none remain.


[18:17|09.11.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Cheshire-Smile Afterimages

Undulating, breathing,
dancing to palpitations of the heart.
A rhythmic swelling of twisted limbs;
Contours over bloodless veins,
screaming sight into lower attitudes.

A flicker of light,
burning emotion in the darkness.
Characters etched in stone
revealed unwanted eddies of love;
Grinning cheshire-smile afterimages.


[17:50|04.11.012] ©c.thomas.carter

The Flux of Sunsets

Grandiose grandeur in the gleaning of glamorous guests
a query for insulated instructions;
to let build a barrier around essential emotions.
Bagpiping staled bread in the flux of sunsets;
fear does scale the highest mountains,
bringing back siphoned souls, in the interplay of ice
and carefully chiseled features.


A potent portent,
the fortune of a tide
filled with anthrax and anti-antidotes;
ripping boiling seas
from the surface of gravity born Earth.
Dissolving the sky, chilled by the Void,
Art in recklessness divided.
Powerful corruption of leaflet crowns,
all pulling under above.

Now Nucleic Acid's aspirations fence forthright blows with the

rapier's redoubt, in distrust Love's instinct.

Friction in Diction,
Feint Strikes to the heart.
Beat down your haggard hands;
stave off Hunger until you die.


[22:50|23.10.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Red Gauges

Hidden behind an hourglass
Sands piling up the remainder of time spilt
Red gauges indicate the indictment
of a commitment to memory

Come here,
Come here and see the end of space.


[19:45|17.10.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Hence the Hex in Her Hair

I hear forgotten clips of her voice,
juggling the art of her six-legged precision...
And to think I knew that ancient chimera;
and injured it as well with the delusion of
the warped neural maze-construction built in
the very moment of Razor's wake in time.

Nothing reveals no thing in time can be any old thing

in making Light of my perception

Burn I travel it back
Crumble I wash it dirty
Stumbling bumbling rumbling

Hence the hex in her hair.

We shall never cross fingers again.


[22:45|16.10.012] ©c.thomas.carter

The Subjective Self

A sideways swim
under the bloated ocean
of self-cognizance;
perfect for the exercise of
the subjective self.

Here am I,
burning in the cradling hands
of the inferno,
waiting for the flow
of the channeled poison of healing;
madness one day to end.
with nothing to share,
and dragging loneliness
through the streets,
I eat the dust settled around fading memories.

And for a brief moment,
as I wander through the crowd,
my vision is suddenly locked onto a pure face;
Your eyes are an Oasis in this sea of dunes;
a brief respite from the ailing populace.

It will make what will happen easier;
as I am betrayed by ravenous wolves,
once allies.

To the sound of
stones smashing my body,
I am able see the light
beyond,
below,
and above,
reality in its fluid form.


10:37 PM 8/16/2012 ©c.thomas.carter

Backstreet Doors

backstreet doors on the floors
of the lives below,

oh no.

popcorn-ceiling falls
from the seismic calls...

so low.

and you could always make a choice;
turn your passion to a mess of noise;
singing captured in your tone of voice;

burning secrets with your graceful poise.

cat may cry in the light
of the autumn day,

I say.

hats off fly in the right
of the dust of grey

ballet

and you could always step aside;
turn your fashion to a different light;
singing rapture in the coming tide;

burning secrets with in whom you confide.


[17:04|16.8.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Caved-In Retinas

Peerless destruction,
caved-in retinas speaking nothing but darkness...
the fire, spreading outward,
can only be inwardly felt.

[23:07|14.8.012] ©c.thomas.carter

First Light

First light,
Death by sorrow,
Caricatures etched in ice;
Kissing tongues locked in frozen embrace.

He travels by light,
Reaching the eyes of Universal Time;
Hertz his Heartbeats closer to Nothing,
Feel a fine loss of bloody cells;

Imprisoned by Mercury Years;
A smoldering heap, hating introversion,
Lost in isolation, forgotten by green things;
The ash flows in the air,  coating vivid memories.

Ebony Embers,
Charcoal Faces drawn on stone;
The last man waits for the last love,
Hoping hell won't take him too soon.


[16:10|03.8.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Purpose in the Kill

Burning post-it notes
Fueled by passionate whispers
Hidden in tepid darkness
Behind wrinkled red curtains

Blood and Bone
Flesh and Fire
Sweeping notions of nostalgic harmony
Beating wings of flightless love

Post Rock
Tissue Paper
Golden Scissors
Battle between tripled variables

Caches of secret memory
Circuits of neural branches
Purpose in the kill
Devouring seeds of thought

The fall of Babylon


[15:49|03.8.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Anesthesia of Cognizance

Mine is jasper beyond the cruel tide of
Vector graphs of an ooze and slime;
Drifting psychotropics create nostalgic
moving pictures, an anesthesia of cognizance;

Your dopamine is
cordially invited to the unveiling of
a darkened corridor;
leading onward forever

(While the Stones click-click on concrete floors)

At night,
my porch is the entire world;
and the dark and the lights outside
are only Outer Space.


[23:54|31.7.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Venus Blood

Stressing poison glands
Filling cups with dead fountain dreams
Make you feel a special inebriation

Drink and Hunger him for scratchy inflation
Force Colombian coffers' causality
Change of habit, counted when eleven fingers

Pointed out The gloaming of the perfect posture
placed before the Nothing of Something
Simply cut to separate what does void or not

Venus Blood float you in regions without atmosphere
Gravity spheres wake in lessened wetness
While in Zero your hands never become dirty...


Yet,
at home far away,
in between rotting walls,
further corruption is revealed.


[23:27|31.7.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Unreachable Enlightenment

Climbing the stairs that lead to nowhere;
Spiralling up into oblivion.
To ascend means an unreachable enlightenment;
Descending most certainly brings insanity.

Only one escape is present,
to leap out of the windows of this skyscraper;
and test the wings of chance,
whether to plummet or soar by a gamble.


[22:18|31.7.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Weapons of Mass Transition

Reaching for memory in the heart of Sol;
Light from fusion in blinding flashes,
Struck from behind by the hand of Fate,
Trampled under the heel of Greed.

We say it our whole lives through;
I need you,
I love you,
Stay with me forever.

As enemies gather weapons of mass transition,
colors fade to grey,
mirrors shove imperfections into focus,
spirits whisper words of cruelty.

Feel my wrath;
the hand of violence beats upon the shore.
Cities burn,
sink into the sea.

Doomed enterprises depart from the atmosphere.


[15:38|25.7.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Throes of Silence

Light leftover in the throes of silence...
The bile of thought digesting dreams of decay.
Forgotten words spoken by screams of paroxysm.

Giants used to walk here,
seeking the life of the prophet.
Stones, thrown down, gather,
Filling the entirety of the world.

Power is defined by poetic accuracy...
lifting burdens of pain from mute minds.
Forgotten words erased by the oil of fingertips.



[21:27|10.5.012] ©c.thomas.carter

My Mouth is Coated in Ash

"My mouth is coated in ash!"
he had drawn it in too quickly;
It became suddenly a minor emergency...
He almost needed to puke;
so I filled up the cap of a hairspray bottle
with water so he could stop choking on it;
some mango gum did the trick to stop it after the drink.
We continued with an enjoyable evening.

[12:37|04.4.012] ©c.thomas.carter

The Green Train

The purple train crosses over the blue one
and the blue train is parallel with the brown
and the green train,
is cold and alone,
do not find yourself on the green train;

your only possible company:
a man with a small branch which was broken,
but now is fixed from an application of duct tape.


[02:52|04.3.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Best not Shared

I can see why somebody
could become addicted
to violent arguing,
it's what we live for to see...
on TV.

Such a personal glimpse into moments
best not shared with an audience;
were it a real-life situation.

The King shall shout.




[02:44|04.3.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Into the Grime of their Being

It's a good thing I'm one of those
'invisible in public' kind of people
leaves me room to observe,
to find areas of ruin
amongst places of prestige,
searching out little spots of decay,
tiny piles of detritus...
enjoying the sneezes
directly caused by staring at the sun.

I wash the meat
of the patty
of that hamburger
you said you'd let me finish;
doing this at home
I recycled the beef
to feed some cockroaches
living under my bed.
I'm into the grime of their being
is why I take care of them.
Living in garbage-environments.

When I'm away I check the streets
for gum and old oil spills,
on sunny days twisting
the slightly viscous tar
filling the cracks in the pavement
at a unreasonably expensive parking lot.



[02:31|14.3.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Ashes of Forgotten Dreams

Feeding off the ashes of forgotten dreams;
drinking in the smoke of languid locutions;
It waits...
deep in the bowels of a subconscious metropolis.

Hearts faint at the idea of escape;
wanting desperately to understand.

[22:24|17.3.012] ©c.thomas.carter

It Snows in the Moment

It snows in the moment;
footprints in a direction
in the powdered ice,
leading to an end,
and the means to a beginning.


[12:36|28.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Cosmic Noise

cascading waves
voices held in limbo
residual energy
clinging to the fabric of
the unknown;

cosmic noise of all colors

[21:21|12.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Mechanisms of Caloric Fire

An algorithm for random integers;
demanding a tedious recount
of binary lost in the noise pollution;
positrons producing social radiation.

We are mechanisms of caloric fire;
our original programming
and ancestral
all dwell within us in the sands of genesis

we are I
thus
I is we

inflection of IS-Reality

[22:50|12.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Glowing Input

Deranged discordance;
I am at odds with the omnipotent.
love for the ideal;
crushed at the reality of it all.

Burning sensations in thoughts' extremities;
the wave of desensitized unvirtue.

I keep searching for satisfaction through
chemical distractions.
Disheartened at the inability to repress my
darker urges

I glow from radioactive input;

Be a lad and heat the spoon for me.


[20:26|12.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

M.M.M.M.M.

The software of the atmosphere
digitally connected to the
network of sky-scraper-sentinels;
and within the swaying breeze
our gaze travels to industrial evolutions;
I hear the music of a robot's imagination
while it innocently assembles technological tidbits.

but the folds of gray tissue still need exploration;
powerful receptors have yet to be activated,
nodes filled with capacious data yet to be discovered,
it is in the music that we know ourselves.

look in the mirror,
what do you truly see?
look as if you've never seen your visage before;
contemplate the things you've spoken,
what you've created;
you might be nothing but your eyes;

molecular machines meticulously moving mountains

[01:06|03.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

External Memory

External Memory
housed within verbal radiations of
thought entering into the populous;
radical notions and ideas
reaching backwards and forwards in time.

Corresponding consistency of
ancient associations
within societal DNA;
They are within and without us,
our mental predecessors and progeny
living within our nightly dreams
simultaneously.

(In the flux of fiction
minds explode into existence
eager to explore
as others gravitate into oblivion
and are ignored)

[00:19|03.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Lingual Chutes and Ladders

Even If I should turn it off,
it still would give you power.
Collections of your agency
contemplated by the hour

the inbetween of ideological petrification
surpasses the infinite distance between the jump
to absolute zero.

nano-machines already exist
chemical programming substances
consist of genetic abnormalities
truly meant to interfere with reality

colors,
works of art
the power of the ATOM's berth
the poetry of passing thought
the conglomerate cognizance
of diatomaceous earth

an exhilarating phenomenon
constructing mechanized measurement of time
a sublime recreation of the ghost of
a previous moment of perception

central to the spiral staircase
leading down to the floor where
no more descent can occur
my language slurs and morphs
into lingual chutes and ladders.

[22:59|02.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Sore Experience

I'm headed down that road again.
The road that leads only to pain.
I'm sliding down that path once more.
The path that leads only to sore experience.

The Devil won today.
He will probably win again.

Time only stretches so far before it snaps back.

I need to catch myself before I cannot escape this trap.

[22:27|02.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Voice of Many Waters

I suppose I have a copy of you in my psyche;
seeing that I cannot travel outside of myself
to access your original perception of reality.

There are many thoughts and recollections
contained within my memory,
and thus they have combined into living souls
deep in the subconscious.

I hear their voices at times.
I hear Your voice at times;

in the passing of a cosmic breeze.

IAM the center of the universe.
Is it not odd that you are also.

The voice of many waters.


[20:28|01.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

Minds in Duality Joined

I in lead crystal.
Drink in emotional paragon;
masterful in your language,
minds in duality joined.

Break tightened tissue
to join it to another's,
grafting limbs into molecule machines,
assembling via Gravity's pull.

Mending the irreparable,
the last flower of its kind
once mortally wounded,
in the hands of quantum paradox.

Half-dead, half-life
fingers stretching to spark an idea;
four hundred billion suns,
souls, countless, which Sol will see.

So brightly light shall eventually shine;
burning purification in the power of
Spirit and Fire;
Luminous in Revolution.

The water is inviting,
and so I have taken the plunge;
bound to return.

[20:05|01.2.012] ©c.thomas.carter

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