AMBIENT MOVEMENTS

Lack of concentration, mind is going numb from expected exhaustion. Is there a way to secure future moments within a silenced thought? Health is gone; nowhere to turn and only selfish answers arise from beneath. Struggling to breath, the warm pacific winds connect slightly with the surface. Calm sounds reflect an empty room that is devoid of touch. Familiar the pain has become. Distractions on the television alter this failed crossing at reaching a fearful temptation. Fire and water are the two elements that deserve a better fate than an end to a long sentence. Reactions towards that mirror hold the lock and key to this door unfolding at the hinges. The face delves inside for a closer look. Moonlight Monoliths guard against the impending night, taking back part of an achieved memory. Words collide with themselves, creating puzzles and riddles that are unable to be solved. Again the Pain mounts its attack like clockwork and this time there is little resistance. 4:41 AM. Numbers decide which message to project and all that can be done is to wait. There is no occupation of confidence for this canceled check in human form. Distance is measured and love is an echo not yet heard by this mind. Can a release of welcomed deception be the torch that lights the way? Burned desires somehow translate into a forgotten purpose. I am Aware of the national mistrust, drowning from that chaos which follows along its trail. Seeing only darkness these days, no more remembrance to a bright morning light. Visible clocks are arranging themselves outside decaying walls. To write in the style of a mad seer, one must first admit to his madness. Coins of dead believers crowd our lives and dictate what must be bought and sold. Spacing and breaking the horizons mission to bring us ancient sights of learned history will only commit the crime of accepting times’ decree. Fighting that tolerance to a generations lack of faith in producing its own voice and art will result with a beautiful martyr. School texts are the beginning of inducting a new crop of failed seekers and beheaded ministers of Truth. Safe within this enclosed chamber of thoughts, those images of painted leafs create a mystic sense of dependence. There is a taste comprised of nature and gravity that has been consumed by this throat. Farmers and merchants cling to their profession as homes are torn from conned eyes. Ambient movements are transpiring at this present scene and all numbness is not lifted but rather set free to roam the halls of flesh. Lost and honored smoke travels around the room, searching for higher elevation. Repeating that song, which is a wanderer’s anthem, triggers immense satisfaction inside the core. Shine that written lie here, so that this Dali stamped mind can prepare for an expected assault on oneness. Bathing in the ocean, needing those waves to rid this form of unwanted exchanges that have occurred is critical. So many artifacts schedule and arrange our lives according to how they were first purchased. “Available locations for understanding the death of fun will be announced at our next auction”! Leaving this sinking ship is easier when one can build a structure of importance before the next natural disaster. Affection with a strangers look depletes the chances of isolation taking over. Unread books on the shelf seem to be sending a warning, although the neon light in here has somehow been tampered with. Beyond oil not even the heavens can tell where this civilization will fall next. The phone rings, intending to leave a voicemail the mouth is patient. A profound realization takes place within the receding seconds and the phone moves to termination. Marooned within a city separates bodies and the possibility of escaping unharmed by the teeth of life. Paranoia and its effectiveness set in for the long stay. Welcome to the fresh wilderness known as accepting morning for what it really is. Addressing the withdrawal of rewards, which were supposed to be given for reading the dated sign, is an act that rushes the fleeing blood to the head. Thanks for the call, too little too late. Cancer driven idols play the chess field and bet on death rather than life. Fragile and strange, photos produced by angelic eyes are ripped and instead given rebirth on this aging product of industrialization. Forces that are unnoticed at first begin to do the dreams bidding by aiding in the plan for the hands in finding what was just said. Mystery and those secreted yells into the fabric of commuted night could unravel the purest sense of gripping the answer by the horns and breaking the hollow thought of rest. DRUGS. CONTROL. RELEASE. These three ideas and images of accepted reality are what can cure a frozen state of mind for the rejected doubt pooling out from the masses. The Mecca of distributed ideals and prophecies is on its own out here in the desert of discontent and biblical confusion. Rising screams spend the energy needed to find the tainted trail, which leads down, down, down, and farther still. Blindness and poison leave their steps broken and withered away from an original copy. Vases of pottery shatter across the white stairwell and I manage again to rebury them beneath mother earth. Words of universal meaning now resonate on the fingertips of scholars and those using the title of scholar. Sobriety away from the mind is the formula for savage fools lingering on the edge of darkness. Where will the expected beauty of youth send its intention for this soul and save that burning ember of landless fire? Listening to the crying of innocent beliefs is a restructuring of an internal strength. The Deep Sleep is ever present and the trick is to lose one eye in a game of religious chance. Hard times are bruising the skin of masked morals. A Sedated Nation must demand for the cosmos to be realigned and have the new center for gravity be within our expanding power of being able to reason with one another’s darkest decisions. The line that has been designed to restrict these Ambient Movements has just been set ablaze by the lighting of wine and uncorrupted words. Dark chords from the poets voice take refugee by outsmarting the celestial calendar in the sky. California resonates a collective experience that taught ability to a highway survivor. Hours bleed invisible concern for those who cannot seem to gain the upper hand with their own internal struggle. Déjà vu is the only commodity that I would trade on a global scale. Too many responses are mocking the truth behind the last great mystery to the human mind, Dreams. Pawning your problems off until tomorrow will enrich the morning sun to shine into your fearful eyes.