forgotten dialects, idioms and languages
Dario L. Jaramillo 1994-1995-1996
tribal dances
imbecile idiots battling among
tribal traditions
backing up forgotten lore
and female whores
forgetting absolute renditions of
tongue and love
forgetting absorbed restrictions
of dialect and talk
constipating psychic admittance
of future war games
and carrying on to satisfy unknown
rewards
and elevated inhuman egos
finding humanity itself
has not found a path
into nowhere
but a path into who-knows-where
forgetting the future
and taking the past into the present
presenting the present as an excuse
to claim enormous amounts of self satisfying
gratification
only to find the present to be gone
as quick as it came
taking immediate action
against the past and the future
as they dance in circles
chasing their tails
wagging their ass-holes
into oblivion
obscured by fetal tissue
surrounding the planet
bringing forth anxiety only to those
that have no past present or future
and lie haplessly in a ball of boring
confrontations
with one another
lying helplessly in a reality
they not even endure
or want anything about
only carrying on
confusing their tribulations
with masturbation
going with their lies
ignoring aberrations
they quietly justify
almost like the inquisition
turning icons into martyrs
unknown to cause or ideal
fortifying idiotic tendencies
of traditional stance
taking for granted the lore
and bore of their tribes
projecting undisclosed dogmatic
disclosures of every kind
confusing the mass with weight
making them wait until
decrepit bodies appear
from their illusions
making them dance again
to the solitude of chance
making them weaker
by the pound
surrounding the paradox
with conflicting ideas
never told
only held inside
until they die in oblivion
spawning new offspring
into
imbecile idiots battling among
tribal traditions
backing up forgotten lore
and female whores
forgetting absolute renditions of
tongue and love
forgetting absorbed restrictions
of dialect and talk
only to reason with absolute
treason of their inane ability
to ride into nowhere
constantly teaching others
about nothing
throwing the wings into the sky
with no air or body to fly with
constantly returning to a beginning
that never ends.
about nothing
against the past and the future
almost like the inquisition
and born of their tribes
and carrying on to satisfy the unknown
and elevate inhuman egos
and female whores
and female whores
and lie haplessly in a ball of boring orgasms
and taking the past into the present
as quick as it came
as they dance in circles
backing up forgotten lore
backing up forgotten galore
bringing forth anxiety only to nothing
but a path of who-knows-where
by the pound
chasing their tails
confrontations
confusing the mass with weight
confusing their tribulations
constantly returning to a beginning
constantly teaching others
constipating psychic admittance
decrepit bodies appear
disclosures of every kind
finding humanity itself
forgetting absolute renditions of
forgetting absorbed restrictions
forgetting absorbed restrictions
forgetting the future
fortifying idiotic tendencies
from their illusions
going with their lies
gratification
has not found a path
ignoring aberrations
imbecile idiots battling among themselves
into oblivion
into nowhere
lying helplessly in a reality
making them dance again
making themselves wait until
making themselves weaker
never told
obscured by fetal tissue
of dialect and talk
of future war games
of traditional stance
only carrying on
only holding inside
only to find the present to be gone
only to reason with absolute
or want anything about
presenting the present as an excuse
projecting undisclosed dogmatic
rewards
spawning new offspring
surrounding the paradox
surrounding the planet
taking for granted the lore
taking immediate action
that has no past present or future
that never ends
they not even endure
they quietly justify
throwing the wings into the sky
to claim enormous amounts of self satisfaction
to ride into nowhere
to the solitude of chance
tongue and love and
treason of their inane ability to
tribal dances
tribal traditions
turning icons into martyrs
unknown to cause or ideal
until they die in oblivion
wagging their ass-holes
with conflicting ideas
with masturbation
with no air or body to fly with
without one another.
chaotic silence
terrified encounters propelling unusual lore
engulfing profound elements of natural
turning water into stone while feeding fish
to higher gods and dogs and egos
looking for a night of light
yet never recalling the day
forgetting the present
living the forethought
returning unwanted gifts of childbearing ladies
accepting them in return of gratification of nothingness
looking at the endless walk
road
path
way
light
into nowhere
bouncing on the planet and orbiting sexual encounters
as others seek recreational devastation of unconquered boundaries into
nowhere
forgetting the forgotten
answering the answered
loving the loved
growing new skin
re-shaping the future
forgetting the past
heading into the light of night
seeing nothing
understanding all
feeling the wind crushing the dust that propels into your face
caressing the beautiful
as we walk
slowly into a wormhole
to fly into forgotten memories of time to come
forgetting how to talk
walking through baffled storms of unwanted chaotic silence
addressing pictures of heaven sent lust
sexually determined to abide by the law of humanity
looking forward to sensing the beauty and sweat
of sweet biological need
as the universe surrounds our existence of perpetual desire
admiring the round and the sound
the ground and the grind
the restlessness of bleeding life
making us a whole within a hole
tied to a planet that comes from afar
but lives with us today
presently among
forgotten lore
of time, space, compassion, desire and beauty
always looking to prevent decay
from rotting in the wind.
accepting them
addressing pictures of heaven sent lust
admiring the round and the sound
always looking to prevent decay
answering the answered
as others seek recreational devastation of unconquered boundaries
as the universe surrounds our existence of perpetual desire
as we walk
bouncing on the planet and orbiting sexual encounters
but lives with us today
caressing the beautiful
chaotic silence
engulfing profound elements of the natural
feeling the wind crushing the dust that propels into your face
forgetting how to talk
forgetting the forgotten
forgetting the past
forgetting the present
forgetting lore
from rotting in the wind.
growing new skin
heading into the light of night
in return of gratification of nothingness
into nowhere
light
living the forethought
looking at the endless walk
looking for a night of light
looking forward to sensing the beauty and sweat
loving the loved
making us a whole within a hole
of sweet biological need
of time, space, compassion, desire and beautiful
paths
presently among us
re-shaping the future
returning unwanted gifts of childbearing ladies
seeing nothing but
sexually determined to abide by the law of humanity
slowly floating into a wormhole of
terrified encounters driving unusual lore into
the ground and the grind and
the restlessness of bleeding life
tied to a planet that comes from afar
to fly into forgotten memories of time to come
to higher gods and dogs and egos
turning water into stone while feeding fish
understanding all as
walking through baffled storms of unwanted chaotic silent
ways
yet never recalling the day.
ancient accidents
accidental anxiety tearing the membrane from the brain
ravishing unthoughtful thoughts of excruciating bliss
into dimensions of ongoing emptiness
giving the self a selfless invitation into nothing
creating a dimension in itself without an image
visualizing the music within the outer spirit
digging deeper and deeper into the sound of anxiety
creating envelopes of unwanted waves of uncountless desire
drowning the moment into lagoons of salty spit and tears
hearing tensions in lesions of bone and skin
hair and nail
uncolored with the color of love
unheard with the noise of life
feeding distortion throughout the planet
finding feedback amusing and exciting
masquerading mistakes with takes of visual orientation
building the edifice with subconscious stone
barricading the mind with an empty moat
finding the mud turning into honey
and the honey into blood
reflecting clouds on puddles in the ground
pointing into the future while existing in the past
hearing no other but the anxiety in the veins
are you a crank?
a paranoid schizoid super creep?
an anxiety addict?
a deranged malfunctioning maniac?
or is the desire to live a little more adventurous than this
dilemma oriented libretto of life?
programmed sages only bring programmed episodes
into the comfort of easy living
why listen?
return to unscripted scripts that lead into
unprogrammed programming
delivering unwanted programs to your existence
even if you don't like it
you will.
a deranged malfunctioning maniac?
a paranoid schizoid super creep?
accidental anxiety tearing the membrane from the brain
an anxiety addict?
ancient accidents?
are you a crank?
barricading the mind with an empty moat
building the edifice with subconscious stone
creating a dimension in itself without an image
creating envelopes of unwanted waves of uncountless desire
delivering unwanted programs to your existence
digging deeper and deeper into the sound of the anxious
dilemma oriented libretto of life?
drowning the moment into lagoons of salty spit and tears
even if you don't like it
feeding distortion throughout the planet
finding feedback amusing and exciting
finding mud turning into honey
giving the self a selfless invitation into nothing
hearing no other but the anxiety in the veins
hearing tensions in lesions of bone and skin going
into dimensions of ongoing emptiness
into the comfort of easy living
masquerading mistakes with takes of visual orientation
or is the desire to live a little more adventurous than this
pointing into the future while existing in the past as
programmed sages only bring programmed episodes
ravishing unthoughtful thoughts of excruciating bliss
reflecting clouds on puddles in the ground
return to unscripted scripts that leads to
turning honey into blood
uncolored with the color of love
unheard with the noise of life
unprogrammed with programming
visualizing music within the outer spirit
why listen?
you will.
bug
sensing a counterfeit feeling within yourself?
standing alone in the corner
dancing in circles
thinking of another
looking for more
it really doesn't matter
only flows between each other
tell me more but softly
i really don't care
give me a heart shaped desire now
as i touch your love
even if you're not here
you are
regardless whether we will continue or not
become one or not
become two we're not
forgotten
within chimes of passion
touching your life is my only desire
everlasting can only be never
now can only be exact
bringing my love
can only be immediate
i love
love you now
now how spooky can you get.
inside out
i love you as the love burns within you
i love you when i'm within you
we dance in oblivion walking the walk of life
sweating in the rain
scorching in the sun
running when we're done
"heaven's around the corner"
she said
"angels are lighting up the sky"
i said
why do you do it?
who cares
how does she do it?
who knows
returning to the road
a walk
with her
without her
when lights are getting brighter
with every pass
every caress
every touch
knowing where to go
is not a question
knowing when to return
maybe
drifting too high to get down
without crashing
without hurting
getting higher
letting you know
you
letting you know
me
letting you know
you
may play any thing with me
it doesn't matter
any desire or fantasy
i will play
so we may be a fantasy
or a reality
an on going delight
relaxing the hardship of living
of boredom
or anxiety
we don't
really know
what we are or who
we are
do you?
as you live the walk
as beautiful as can be
leading the life
as beautiful as can be
be me
be you
be ourselves
be everyone
together we'll ride anywhere
doesn't matter if we end up on
our knees
or up to our knees
doesn't really matter
all we love is need.
running out
and this i write to you tonight
as i idle within my diseased mind
killing minutes with loving thoughts
of concurring desire
without knowing who it may be
or for whom it will be
as seconds turns to stone
wild pounding hearts is my desire
leaping from within
burning without
and i write a song to you
not knowing who you are
or what to do
letting the captivity take me
on its' own
i fly to you completely
unknown
into hearts i may jump
maybe wading in puddles of lost
blood
as the sky turns brown
i make my love to you
on the ground
all around
in my body
and without
i shout my conviction
time is running out.
midway
amidst mid life
barely conscious to reality
finding every worldly moment unworldly
finding the world churns and burns
into nowhere but a constant struggle towards death
all the clichés could never describe
the feeling
of going nowhere
nowhere
going in circles
fearing finding a different path
full of conformity
full of shit
sounds like adolescent mid-life
following a vicious circle of complicated matter
sending messages into the void
with no response
their lives are just as fucked up as mine
so who cares
we may be dead in a moment or two
realizing there is no truth
or consequence
or answers to anything
the love light
and clichés are what they are
as i vomit these feeling in droves
into the night
convulsing
tossing
turning
deliriously
thinking of alternatives that make no sense
to the mind
but bewilders the heart
making me chase beauty into the night
gorgeous environments
i had not encountered for years
writing to nothing
telling it all
i'm just as lost now
as i was twenty years ago
and who cares anyway ?
is this a calm protection?
or an anguished demeanor?
questions?
answers?
all the same
my conscience clear
it doesn't matter
it really doesn't matter.
angels flying around me seeping from below
surrounding me with their presence
returning with their beauty and new life
engulfing me
exciting me
inciting me
inviting me
saving me
from life itself.
cycle
it's all so very strange
from full moon to full moon
a complete circumference of love
and depths of personality clashes
of divinities and desires
of wants and needs
coming from nowhere turning into love
rage and love
all bundled in deep erotic bundles
of cuddling love
yet the floor would shake in desperate anxiety
facing one another with pride and shame
confused realities never coming forth to reach out
and understand the love within
an unreasonable beginning
an unreasonable departure
with lonely attire and aimless goals
yet arriving to nowhere in nothing
gives a sense of free freedom
returning really into nothing
leaving the heart and the soul dead and gone
emptied into the nights of ignorant solitude
and discovering that the goal is nothing but a coming of age
a coming to the present free of anxieties
feeling a fortitude and blissful existence
maybe finding love.
force
holding on to forces that
caress the wind
holding the divine to the unknown
the unknown to the divine
holding space within the arms
trying to not get caught
holding the wind
holding the vein in humanity's heart
hearing the rainbow screaming at the sun
"let me be!"
holding the essence of time into an instant
holding the instant into time
spending the day without the time
where time has spent an entire day into nothing
looking into the sun
looking at eternity
saying what we want into nowhere
then we are nothing?
vapor trails of scattered wind
entering the voids of our desires
holding on to time
timelessly
feeling the sounds throughout the body
until we are mad without desire
withdrawn
without
within the drained mind
we rise above
time and space.
touch
touching everything around us
investigating the desire
insisting we get hired
inviting the admired
admired
inspired
desired
turning us into molecules
scattering us throughout the wind
opening doors into nowhere
know how
no body
but ashes floating into the ground.
surround
ancient voices surround the area
brining delight to the wise
impoverishment to the lost
loneliness to the gone
and happiness to the visual one
that sees opening buds blooming into space
forgetting its surroundings
looking up
smelling outhouses and flowers
pollution and cowards that pass by
looking into the bay forgetting
city life lost in the horizon
lost in the eternal divinity of it all
forgetting to make money
forgetting the responsibility to cope
with control
desire
fire
and higher reasoning
casting soft words onto the parchment
feeling exhausted about nothing but life
letting it go wondering about
tomorrow
yet dreading the future and its arrival
noticing lost words arriving
yet again into the moment
brining the morning into an
activity
acclimating the surrounding into your mind.
screams
hear the screams in the night
screams of joy and orgasmic
delight
screams of orgies invite
the nightly call of excruciating
appetite
creeping into the body around midnight
surrounding the atmosphere to reunite
forces of bodily fluids ignite
great clashes of temperatures
turning us into
night.
saint martin sings
luscious sirens evoking
wild screams and desires
into the night
singing with lyre
and liars abound
saint martin sings
about modern times
ferry boats and chimes
filling the air as he
sings
about beauty divine
for ages abide forgotten songs
of divinity
that saint martin sings
looking into the future with no future
to find
looking into the past
where the past has survived
singing the song that was none
and sung to the sirens above
and the witches below
saint martin
with pierced skin
and heart beating beneath the lungs
as he sings
in imagination or nation
in reality or banality
saint martin sings over pain
beneath the sirens that love him
nurturing the nourishment and vida
of life itself
singing the parables of some other planet
or god's home where
he lies on the wind milking the
divine for every second that is given to him
he sings
for gold and reward
for love and for god
for nothing and for all
for return and for gone
for the power and the glory
saint martin sing about you
and your deepest thoughts
darkest secrets
lost memories
forgotten songs
and to forget
he sings so he may forget
singing about your fears and yearning
the victories and battles
the defeats and regrets
retrieving all that is lingering
through the layers of emotional reclusiveness
returning the song into your love
life
duty
strife
driving droves of meandering feelings
into a melody
singing about songs
listening to every sound the life
makes
fakes
takes
breaks
hearing the deaf
seeing the blind
talking to the dumb
learning every note and tempo
of life
saint martin sings
with blood on his chest
salivating sanguinial subversions
to the unknown
to the lost and yet not found
to the forgotten
and forgiven
singing songs that will not be heard
but only by you.
revenge
hair raising minimalistic organisms
desiring universal acceptance
returning to bombard their allies
knowing not what they do
blinding themselves in
anxiety and external confusions
driving them into the soul
deeper and deeper
remembering not the past
nor the future
looking on themselves for revival
knowing not what to do
or where to go
a longing of the past
forgetting the future
shall i go on with this
encrypted nonsense babbling
about the demise of reason
as if speaking to the walls
of humanity itself.
higher
endeavors we desire
endeavors we admire
going higher and higher
into dreams never before obtained
within the rain and soot
we clasp the morning now
with
endeavors we desire
endeavors we admire
feeling the day perspire
into desire
and we admire the crier
that walks into life
with a fire
crying out that life has
no resolution or denial
no losing nor betrayal
no strings and no buyers
no advertent behavior
or guided lights or paths
the admired one
lives to himself
as we find that
endeavors we desire
endeavors we admire
takes us higher and higher.
now is how
triads of forgotten memories
living in your present
affecting the past
bringing you into the present
making you fast
presenting endangered affections
into the realm of the loving
resurging the constant element in life
and decaying beginning
mattering if it's right
or wrong
or indecisive
doesn't matter
now is how.
past
obliterated from the past
moving into directions further unknown
learning cures and measures to forget
forgot
and continued
forgotten and continued
gotten and nurtured by pain
to be granted new forces within the universe
obscured not
opened into further content
open to further the nourishment of life
to avoid poison from strange humans
and vice
following the path into newer lights
leaving the past where it belong
lost in perpetual memory
to be accessed by knowledge and experience
the big cape has been drawn
forever to be forgotten
forgot
the turmoil of these recent times
is gone
over
to be uncontinued
in this life
forever to be learned from this lesson
the past is over
the past is gone
i forgive to forget
i forget to forgive
to leave the beasts behind
to close the door
to poisonous invitations
closing the road to misfortune
now i must walk and provide my soul
with nourishing bliss from the art
of life's long knowledge
teach me God how to live in your presence
at peace with open arms to glorious
recognition of my talents
faith and perseverance
with trust and hope
this book is gone done
the dark is over.
peace and love
light up the tunnel
of satisfied senses and fortunate fortunes
light up the darkness with every dream come true
making the solid into liquid
water into wine
hate into love
we can see the strain building
climaxing into thunder with no light
exploding consequences are sure to come
a beneficial event will cleanse the weary soul
blending the layers of resentment into one
devising a true layer of emotion
that has to be cast out
through
the pinhole
into the open
out into the cold
casting the parasitic amoebae away
making way for love and peace
compatible lifestyles and wisdom
energetic lives of blessed souls
with or with fortune
allowing gratitude to lead the road
in any way
sending the tranquility through the blood
delivering stress free endorphins into the environment
chasing the tension and buildup incessantly away
into the outer world of pain
peace and love
1996
Moments carry forth rivals of definite sources
coming together to bring happiness and pain
alike
separated or penetrated the couple comes forth
in the life
coming forth
bringing lovers into circles of vanity
complacency
eternity
bringing the source to the upper surface of humanity
its forth
its coming forth
remembering places and memories
on forth on forth
coming apart and coming together as a memory
to realize loneliness was harder than the hurt
the quest or no quest
past is past and present is forth
tantalizing wishes became obsessions
of painful desire and confusion
bringing forth memories and unresolved issues of pain
leaving it behind
carrying forth the desire to see the sunset
see the moon see the stars
and someday see you
someday watching the sky above the love
hovering in delirious passion
over a feeling intoxicating your heart
leaving you dazed and exited
passion that pinches the senses
feathers your heart
caresses your body
eases the soul
carrying you forth
from bottom up to bottom down
picking the soul up
bringing the present up
lifting the spirit off the ground
jump on goals wishes and dreams
gathering up the delight to cleanse the soul
with music and song and dance
enjoying the day
subliminal dejavu
it seems like I've been here before
in your heart
in your mind
yet I'm lost in your body
drowning in a sea of
desire
longing for resolution and infinitive peace
where do I find this?
where do I go to replenish my anxiety and find tranquility?
am I your body or your mind?
lost in a trance that seems to follow me
around
lost in a trance that seems to constantly
tear me down
lost in a trance
have I been here before
subliminal patterns of thought follow my mind
into oblivion
where there are paths in every direction
throwing me into hell-fire
and bliss
allowing my mortality to wander into abysses of misfortune
and success
where am I now
this all seems to be the same
again.
again
again upon the aghast do i ride
fearing fear it self that rides
into the open that i abide
fear not the tides of life
i ride and ride
until the road leads me into the unknown realm of my calling
do i call
even if i fall
bringing the body back up
to withstand the torture and pain
that relives the past into the future
begone be it now
that pain that delivers no notion of pleasure
but by coincidence brings forth the creative heart
to fight the calamity of time within time
i ride again