Sunday, March 25, 2012

We Stayed To Surf

we stayed to surf

What say,
the waves are totally buff
and some kinda’ tuff thiswhen, eh?


So hey,
while we in wonder wander willful
‘long these sandy shores of force
the oleaginous ontological ocean
betide, becomes our sole recourse.

Say what?

we supposedly bogus beachbums be downright decent
at slashin’ glassmoothfast gnarlyass tubes,
cutback chiaroscuros’ limned liquidlucent
some nasty moves done by us demigod dharmadudes:

slithering sideslips to lipstrikes wanton freefin,
whitewater spumewhipped to windward away,
screamin’ ‘cross vortices breaking wildly widdershins,
shreddin’ swellwalls spunaesthetic in hyperspray!

Try to focus and understand:

that on the sands of time certain realities abide as ripples,
(epiphenomenological swirls microgranular in sand),
whose appearance and purpose permutate supereal
the ethereal collective unconscious and its’ surface tension
through scansion surreal and the expansion we feel’s
everdue our ideal.

So therefore,

when sometimes we with booze petition the muse,
of self induced epigramatic sententiousness we’re subtly subdued.
Still, as abundant as virgin births are these daze,
so we as metaviral avatars abide and abound.
Couched in our dangerous comedic sheathing we are found
to be ribonucleic acid gone awry!

Why?! . . :
‘Cause our vaticinal skew, thislife, thiswhen, thismilieau
is to train, and in training to remain:
warrior platelets, (everbidden), to nobility hagridden;
surfing waves on these seas in our brains,
surely our domain and dominion we claim.

While towards escape from replical overlordships’ repression
we move and the expression is: “slash the seratonin”;
(boards backlit and burnished by the light
of nightly neurotransmitterlit sessions).
I guess we gotta go for the ganglia gang. Trapped behind enemy timelines we play, hanging out and hanging in there.


Right here by this solipsistic surf
An ominous, but numbly numinous, sense of divinity ubiquitously
bitchin’, like catchin’ the best swell of the day, beckons:

one nerve,
one single synapse,
(‘just one more wave, eh’,)

So you see:

we stayed to surf.

1 comment:

  1. Can you believe this: I am reposting this poem of mine because the pissants that took down all my Google links right before my last post actually erased my original post of this here from 2005. Of all the petty abuses I suffer just because I hate Nazis, these picayune harassments are the worst. As though I don't have multiple copies, in multiple formats of all my intellectual properties. - Jondalf