White Biocentrism

Three plus ten student tumbled in tardy to see Prof. Slouch mumble coherently fumbling plastic thumbs on a class couch, pocketed one-by-one as we opened books and notes and waited like X-mas gifts as he sniffed elbows on raincoats. Fifty jumping-jacks, apples juggled in socks, rocket-farts, an erase...

In a silent green sea wind like waves wet with celestial memory sinks some secrets to unseen graves, others by force link to thinking destiny as the seam-source of reality and dream encrypts in cell, seed and porous moonbeam a life-course for conscious one, all or none to follow like crawling sun th...

From member #H0173:
Happy Birthday (January 12th) to Alfred Ernst Rosenberg and Hermann Wilhelm Goring!

Impatiently I waited, socks on ears and hands for naked beer turtle to appear and eye my demands gurgled half in baritone, half in bass avoiding laughter that might cost me priceless place in line alone three nights and one nice day to hey! in clay underwear what only I dare say but, every other toe...

Bodies have limits--borders and most of the time merely follow orders unlike the rippling mind--who knows how far and why it can grow? Shale ideas snowflake away everdown, sloughed forgotten aloud or soft yet maybe knot often shocking awake now and thereabout acorn scenes, light-forged beings aborte...

1. There is but one reality. --Nature is never complicated or confusing. 2. That reality is the Whole. --The Whole permeates all things, impels all things, and thus is all things within itself. 3. It is the Creator, the Self-Created. --Beyond the life of the individual and his personal ambition and ...

Sniping ripe berries right off the branch; nuzzling sunbaked leaves piled by circumstance; a long drink from an ice-cold, nose-numbing spring; snacks of grass before back-and-forth, tummy-up rollicking. Birds and squirrels to circle and chase, prey saved by the distraction of a familiar face-- a whi...

Dream-scaled eyes drink in soft sunflakes misting through dew-webbed leaves; a warm slice of shale skips off the surface of memory, forming ripple-thought lakes, ponds, creeks and streams; murmuring snail roots of plant, grass and tree unfurl, inch-by-inch evergrow; stem-broke lemmings pile on wise ...

This is the way a poem should be--simply creative.

In our daydreaming backyard night-winged stars bug lightning-thick air or slug in jars; my brother and I run and grab and hand-snatch a few, stand and stare, poke and compare and kill one or two. Before retiring inside, the cool captives are released-- freedom's glow sparklers dark forest with winki...