Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

[Lipinski]

coming out of a hole
shimmering transpiration
(worm, rabbit, womb...)

we come out
we, the purality of concoction
... ... ... sparks ... ... ...
so hot
so intense
minute sensations of wonder
joined for an instant in warmth and sparkle
floating in a lighted world so full of illuminated illusions

.
.
.
this blanket so many fear as
they
hide
in cloaks of worldry conundrum

forsaking the peace of lightened blackness
this
this the land
where in my world
i travel.

[Lipinski]

in the crowds, so many minds begging for the attention of hiding from themselves
there were/are men, women, children
standing there
consuming from what they think
only to fail to feel, to see, they consume themselves

in the crowds, some minds were the glowing jewels faceted to gain a focused attention
in these the communion
the knowledge shared
fate passed the ribbons cut
the center spoke radiating out now, in countless direction

one talked of philosophy
one listened of theory
one shared with a stranger, his possessions, his name, his trade, his hand
one talked and listened... fate some would say, only is it fate? is it destiny?
or
is it
yes
it is
another faceted gem shining bright among the endless parade of conflicting emotions
an ocean filled with what is so easy to see
even now
as the waves roil across a world
.
if only the ship of humanity could sail.

[Lipinski]

Hahahahahahahah!
Ahahahahahahahah!
and as the saying goes, "Fuck it!"

Too much with too many and for what?
Boiled to basics one is left with a soggy
paper
sack.

This is why this is that
this and that
that is
it that

leading to laughter with shadows and dust
shredding the basics
as there is no one that will ever
ever
ever
understand
such
except for, "Fuck it!"

How sad.

[Lipinski]

"Morning shithead. You're looking ugly today."

You like my new wig parasite? (adjusting the energy)

"Oh hell no. Makes you look like a cactus."

That's the look I was trying for.

"Whatever. Don't you have a job?"

Nope.
*

Working on work is a socialist quirk
telling all how it all should work
To AOC, Bernie, Mao, Castro, and so many and so much...
I'd rather follow a rock and listen to a duck
and bury this world in its own making of
mud.

[Lipinski]

Crawling along as the spider crawled along
along with and for a moment
there was a common bond

Lost in work, one to bring home
one to build a home
and then with sunlight dimming

humming a song
spinning a web
and watching a night sky full of stars.

[Lipinski]

3.14

Pi

Day

Full circle when taking a walk in infinity

Started just the other day, the day, the day, the day...

Squared start in linear perfection

Banked right, curved left without losing the equation

Walked it all backwards when really finished the line

and for all the bullshit, horseshit, drama, poof, puff, sweat, thoughts...

it was the moments spent resting admiring the wonder of others lost in their thoughts
skipping stones
dipping toes
swinging over a lake on a rope
fishing
eating a hot dog
and soaring in dreams so high and vast...
before once again doing the walk.

[Lipinski]

In a fight comes angers comes anger, angering or angling. Jockery jacking for position.
he said. she said. and a woof.

but as always, inspiration in the form of historical perspective: Sir Nicholas George Winton. a man alive during true Nazi oppression. a time of death much like today's deaths coming from such a vast array of facts, hopes, dreams, and ambitions from the likes of Cortez, Planned parenthood (masters of death from abortions) Nazi: a work of words only today masked by other words of hate with the plan of attaining the same history of presentation.
*
Children

Born into with, and with from, and from a womb of mixed passions
Passions filled with the flame of love and hate,
peace
and
anger

They lay there in a bed made of society; helpless with only their cry trying loudly to make
a difference...
the newborn child?
or
the parents?

He has six children and turned to crime stealing from his employer
She sat on and killed a child with her weight
this is a world the children are born into?

They grow though as know and known
trying to weave a basket to call their own
a basket filled with atrocity and wonder

All around though, the flowers bloom and fade
snow falls only to melt away
rains mist brings joy to the mud of dust
it is as if a world tries...

So why then, is there the constant battle between trying to save and working to kill?
Innocence then, is truly a rare commodity
as a rabbit greets the lion.

[Lipinski]

The skillet hot; brazen so; core of blue flame licks the underbelly of iron
aura felt by a sensation(s) for far from this icy plain rests completion

Angels wings beat in metaphor; timed rhythms as if such could ever make a difference
with choices and actions
in play

Today, in a realm of between where the stove is surrounded
strings expanded to touch fire, sky, earth, stone, heart, soul, mind

Rolling the fingers one gets burned, one gets tangled, one gets a feeling there is more
more
and
more
and
more
and
more
and
more
and
more...
until they touch together...

even now, the tears and laughter
there, in the side, an old woman gasps her last breath surrounded by her children
in the other,
a newborn squalls to announce she is alive to her mother.

Clenching the fists so tightly, knowing it cannot be stopped
is this why the others raise their fists and howl for all the hear their collective anger?

One day, one day far into the day there will come a dove in flight
that day
the day
the fists open in surrender
and all will share a meal now prepared while dancing in the flames.

[Lipinski]

A twist of the wind and it brings forth from slumber
reaching grass
warming rock
and crickets

In the darkness of the void
on knee's below
a friend reminds me of Summer
as he starts to move around

Soon his legs will rub and bring sweet music
until then, a mutual greeting and parting of day
he to find an outlet to the Sun
i to feel the warmth on sight, body, and sound.

[Lipinski]

a little peep hole moving across the sky
little flicks of sparkly grit surrounds perspective
some would say, "full moon", but that's not the reason
why

science and logic have so many facts
it helps tuck them in at night
after a glass of soy milk, and then they turn off the electricity fed
light

there is nothing full about a moon hovering only inches above your eyes
nothing about science/logic that can be proved to be right
nothing to say about soy milk other than maybe some slight mental retardation
and electricity? Mmm, let me explain...

Egyptians had it right, so did the Columbian's, Atlantanean's, and Ben Franklin flying a kite
It's inside all and in all it is bright
pulsing and sending such vibrations of energy
and why?

Just peep with your peepers, up at the bright hole in the sky tonight
and then
close your eyes
and therein, a shocking sight.

[Lipinski]

Filling up
filled until
fill
ill
ll
i

i

i

urp
now,
where the hell's the pie?

[Lipinski]

Congrats on your 'coming to life' Tao. There are always stories to be written, submitted, read, and in this, satisfaction.

Blue on black is fun on the eyes indeed. Reminds me of the days of black lights and posters. Plus, strobes just add pizzazz.

Also... "Hey, hey, hey! Haven't you burnt up yet charcoal beak? As for a Name... HeeHeeHee... I know your name, your relatives names, I know everyone's names even though they bore me. But since you're cooking... a recipe for you. 1. Salt 2. Pepper 3. One old, decrepit Phoenix boiled alive in hot water and then plucked, gutted, and thrown into a very large caldron and after being bombarded by some very, very, very ooooold magic coming not from this world or the next... and THEN, when the meat starts to fall of the hollow, soft bones... you open up a can of spam, three Marabou chocolate bars (milk chocolate not that nasty dark shit), ten bags of marshmallows and a jar of apricot jam... Mix everything together and don't, I repeat, DO NOT eat one bit... Instead, strip naked on a new moon, paint your body with it... and..."

Okay parasite. That's enough. You're definitely one weird piece of spouting crap. Sorry about that Tao. The parasite is what it is. And also, thanks for the inspiration.
***

Call From the Wild

In a center named, Being, there is focus
Focused fusion full of feeling
to follow
comes the vibration

Orgasms of sporadic choice bordering upon such a line
pondering then
the question
To cross
to stay
or walk the star path of heavens?

In libraries old, so old they were burned
Pyres high as parchments gave life to flame
with ashes blown to the four winds
the Knowledge never destroyed by such feeble interventions...

In a Claw there is a Center that can never be taken away
Wild
Wild beyond even the most advanced forms of
Imagination

In a Mouth there is a rim that devours a Universe
even all understanding
leaving much more to advance
in passing

A Name
so it is
when it is
is it really a name
to remember when even ants cannot utter or comprehend
let alone
Humans?

[Lipinski]

Listen'd to some talk radio today. Topic was about time/calendar as discussed by 'indigenous' folks on the ...

..................................so...........................................................................so...............................................is.......................................................is......................................if................if......................................if.............................__________________________________)0(_-_-_-_-_-(foot prints)>>>>>...................................it has not even yet started.l>>>>>>>>>>>>..........................)0(-_-_-_-_-_)stead>>>>>>>>>>>>..............<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

of course, inspirational.
*

threads as thin with look of a thistle seed
so clear
such
drifting with a puff of pursed lip

measuring
1 by 1 and told
with wit and imagination
stead

starting a story with a beginning and an end..
only more
as spun with a rotation of silk, another entirely different
story
a story filled to elevations high

time..emit
....it......
is..........
....it......
is
time
time in a bottle with outside
in.

[Lipinski]

lids to weigh with brow and lashes
blinking
blinking
blinking
awake

a twitch
spontaneous
softly though to bury such
and sleep.

[Lipinski]

Indians. A common word used in North America and South America. Common too, indigenous. Hard to separate who is who.

Not in the reality though...

*

It was a large venue. New buildings built to awe. A grand opening. A festival. Thousands of people came to see the show as indigenous folks from around the world displayed their culture.

People smiled. They admired. Walking through and above marbled walls and floor.

One object of white compressed paper hung from the wall. Each line clear and definitive. The artist smiled in pride.

**

Time of renewal. Time of budding strength. With this Time, there arrives a settlement.

Holes balanced; staggered to thread those natives with clarity of holding judgement. One contained the dead, the next one lifted themselves from the hole. Death. Life. Death. A perfect dance of weaving fabric. For a path was filled.

***

Taken now to the depths of society. Teetering again where it welcomes instability. Pipes spewing more and more in vibrant colors.

****

Holding up and lifting a veil where the winds trail, spilling grains of sand
Feet follow not, nor can they
Winding around a tree with bark so thick, it swallows oceans, clouds, ideas, worlds...

In this, a hand waves
Mountains in return, smile
Below a nucilie sportagiaol

i can hear now, the waters borne
taste the death of
feel the muse
and be at peace.

[Lipinski]

watching a man lost in the game
he gambled
you know

taking on a spin, a bottle, grin
he played
you know

bad news for one marker
he felt
you know

"If I did not have bad luck, I'd have no luck at all...:
he said
you know

(and there you go Matt)
bad luck
good luck
puppets on a string
it really
is
a grand game.

[Lipinski]

inside...
again

her breasts such the difference between quiver and smile
eyes the pauper
begging for
a look

inhaling such
again...

for there is color in her stride
defiant
loving
angry
sad

it is the curve of her back though,
the twist of her head
inside
again

[Lipinski]

one of the strands
two vibrations
three directions
four worlds

for a spider what numbers mean
what do numbers mean?
nothing as to what spiders think

hanging threads

dangling anticipations

sure footed

strength of bond

A web filled before woven
A success
A wonderful moment to survive in a world fixated on death.

[Lipinski]

Blessed items or darned
A nail so wonderful until it rusts, hit with a hammer, and bent

Paper to read and color
With water to add refreshment; soggy mess

People who smile
Anger shows quickly when different situations are met

Maybe though, it is all a blessing?
Education needed for all events.

[Lipinski]

slid down it did
a rock with a world
on top

in the middle road divided, one, the heavens, two the bottom of the world
with pose though of natural native tongue
it
spoke

who are men that they should be noticed?
moss covered the words brought
just enough words, just enough
to seal a motion

airy the soothing meaning'
held in hand
there was a passing.

[Lipinski]

So much held between
Elbows point the elevations
Propping shoulders
head on
straight

Rubbing a face of grit covered
eyes with relief
knuckles crack
the knees bent and jeans covered in dirt and grease

Such is the day of work
Supervised by sunlight and breeze
So ends
so much
of
another day.

[Lipinski]

"I saw you at it again shithead. Why do you find enjoyment is something so trivial and idiotic?"

To you parasite, it is trivial and idiotic, but that's because you don't have to work for a living.

"I'd call it more like pathetic, but whatever freak. Now, gimme some of that chocolate."

(rustling paper) Here ya go, you can sniff the wrapper. Must say though, Lindt ain't half bad.

"Dick..."

Yep, yep, and yep.
*

They rise to the surface, been this way for years
Buried
Quiet
Watching

Until, the words are heard, and then

Plucked like a ripe plum
Gripped like a glass of water
and placed where they needed to begin
with so many wondering why, why them

Amazing how they all lined up
Perfect
Planned
and needed

Just in time to watch the sun set
the grass grow
dust fly
and to still the vibrations in the hand.

[Lipinski]

writers get their inspirations from many sources, for sure. some come from the news, or events of a personal nature, or drug induced; an endless muse from endless sources, for sure.

today, I was inspired by Dave Pudelka. Dave died two years ago of complications to his lungs; gift from the U.S. Government use of Agent Orange while he served in Viet Nam.

Dave a mild-mannered man. a family man. a logger. a border patrol officer. and he told the most horrible, boring jokes that were ever told before his life or since (so bad it made me laugh in amazement)

i last saw Dave three years ago. he and his wife Heather came to visit for a day. we visited, watched a movie about the secret lives of pets, ate a wonderful meal, and he told more of his hoooooorible jokes...

he inspired me today as i passed the spot we're we met him on the highway as they traveled up the highway. i pass this spot often yet today his picture of standing there was as real/vivid as it was three years ago. in this, a poem is created.
*

This Concept Called, Time

By: Dave's spirit

Jungles of vibrant drops of greenery
Wet
So wet the very being rotted

Bullets flying as if guided by intentions
Killing
Killing
Writing home so far from reality

It started
It ended
and then,
it began...

A family with one, then two, then three
in small home by a lake filled with algae
surround by a forest of work, until the Owl came

Out of work to soothe the conscious of an America that paid more in homage
to Owls, Wolves; misguided environment winning over the hard work of men and women
called loggers

Finding a border to cross where trading in the saw and hard-hat for a uniform
Black boots
a badge

Retirement to hunt and find
sickness
so hard to breath

Each breath so laborious
a smile still so powerful
and those great jokes

...

Dave is gone now, his wife still grieves as she cans the gardens bounty
But is he gone?
No.

Today, I saw him clearly standing tall wearing the face of a child, a young man, burly with an ax, polished in uniform,
and finally
pulling an oxygen bottle with dignity.

It's a curse to know, to see, and be
where time is meaningless
to watch the infinitesimal sparks of life
float far from the flame

It's a blessing though, to know, to see, and be
able to know it never ends
to watch the infinitesimal sparks of life
explode into a roaring flame.

[Lipinski]

Line of clear clarity matching the waters dragged
Pulling leaded hook embracing a plastic worm
sharp and to the point

Jetty wash with upward swell
bouncing bottom
drifting tides pushing upriver

Above, the orange sky... is it evening? Morning?
Smells of ocean though
so all
is right

Jigging softly until...
Surprise!

Such a strong bite
A pull
A tug
Reeling hard with a splash, a net, and behold

It feels so real, this memory
so it must be
and now in time to put the fish on ice, drop the hook over the side for another
feeling great inside.

[Lipinski]

She wants a horse carving
He wants a tree

Two together deciding
looking like a horse it will be

Upon a door separating bedroom and world
One with secrets, one with reveal

*

Bringing life to wood is a wonderful
thing

Thankfully Winter is past and ready for next
Spring is sprinting
Summer is near
Fall, ah yes, Fall
a restful moment for many creatures, to include
me.

[Lipinski]

sitting in a tree.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.there
.-.-.-.-.-.-and there.-.-.-.-.-
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.arm's below the wings.-.-.-.-.-.
\|
||
/|
softly singing
\|
||
/|
fairies are wonderful beings.

[Lipinski]

"Hey numbnuts, did you buy me anything?"

Yeah... Here, play with this.

(pondering the item for a few seconds) "What the fuck is this? It looks like a can opener."

Nope. You'll figure it out. A clue though, it is for widgets and thingy-ma-jigs...

"Oh sure... THAT really helps... What a moron."

(and so we leave the parasite to figure out the new tool from Harbor Freight, a store that really is a fun place for guys/gals who like tools and the smell of China)
*''

Snap-On
Craftsman
Quality with matching gold-standard pricing

Break it?
No problem as they will replace it

Pittsburgh tools?
From China?
Almost free?
Must be crappy.

Maybe...

though, lifetime free replacement
does the job
and Harbor Freight makes me
happy.

[Lipinski]

Ha!
Hee hee
(guffaw)
(chortle)

Ooh... look, a butterfly...

So easy to see the beauty in the most
of wonderful
beings.

[Lipinski]

watched the group last night. a lot of youngsters engaged in a sugar high from the chocolate cake. a lot of minds pretending the process was substantial.

it was a world known well and one so very tiring, but that is the way this world works.

there were some good moments though as the herd became one together, even if only for a few seconds. and then, the minds drifted to thoughts of finance, sex, work, and wondering when the event would finally end.

of course, there was the applause, the laughter, and the food was good.

the best was sitting next to a man not only filled with greed but consumed... amazing how some creatures can truly consume themselves.
*

Fat layered like the cake set before him as his consumed his complaint...
"No white cake. All chocolate. No white cake."
and then the sounds of inhalation leaving a plate filled with only
a dark stain

"I want!"
I
I
I

Ample in appearance this walking bank of gluttony
depositing
and waiting for the occasional withdrawl
complaining and wanting

Children are much more amusing to watch as they learn to pick and choose
but this man
he is truly
something

Wave after wave, like standing barefoot before a beach wave
he exuded, released freely,
his greed
his wanting
"$40? I'm hungry for more... It should be $5 or free!"

In departing he asked, " Do you want those tickets? No? Quick! Give me,"
as his chubby hands crawled over the table
fingers like broken spiders legs
clinging to blue remnants of chance

It felt good to feel the rain again
To stand in blackness'
away from the herd
from the children and minds filled so much with so much
Most importantly, to leave greed alone in his company.

[Lipinski]

Whatch ya doing there parasite?

(with a suspicious tone the reply) "And why do you care?"

Cuz you look funny dressed up like a chicken.

"I'm not dressed like a chicken. I'm wearing the latest fashion ware found on Pluto."

People on Pluto don't wear feathers.

"Yes they do."

Well, if you want a compliment I'd say you'd probably taste good...deep fried.

"Dick."

Yep.
*

What came first.
The chicken or the egg?

Nothing came first
and then
the Word.

In the end, there was the world of words
In the beginning, there is the word.

With so much unfolding in fashion of chaos and order
it makes me want to sleep as there never is an ending that never begins.