Antlers from a buck.

“Running around the ways I used to get used by,

rubbing the bark off these trees  with my rack,

my antlers that certify my status as wild life, protected by the nation,

the spirit of american dreams,

the theta, not the beta,

this is not the tutorial,

this ain’t the trial version,

this is the premium package,

the recollection of how you choose to redirect my energy,

don’t disregard my flow,

I’m never out of material or inspiration for the prose I wrote in my head before I channeled it into this page on the internet.

I find that I can rearrange the symbols of my references,

and explain what this formulae for curing madness means to me.

It’s customized to the way we deal with different energies,

and if you know how I feel about transcribing my super higher power,

then I’ll call on ground control to hang on to the tower.

That’s how my brain works,

phase modulation in some strange oscillation of tesseract frequencies,

you must be insane too think you do not already have this inside of thee.

It’s the cubic quadrants that glow with phosphorescent luster,

that almost looks radioactive,

but it’s half life is more stable than carbon.

It’s that holographic representation of the way that energy bonds to my soul,

and resonates like so,

and I’ve already had my voice tailored into the fabric of space,

so you can hear my voice in the dark,

and you know that’s when we come across the great big question of are we really alone?

I’m not entirely sure if the distortions of my radio frequencies are any different than the mind/body/sound complex that I compact down to three densities,

I mean to say don’t make me sound any more dense,

this reality is not ready for that form of complexity.

I know we are cool to simmer on the back burner and stay moderately warm,

just do not fib to the Oracle or she will reveal your reason for giving in to the farce.

Don’t get too close to that truth,

don’t get too far from that lie,

it’s perfect where it is and I don’t need any more reason to define the slight of hand,

I don’t need to see you’re opposable thumbs to know you’re more evolved than the next in line to the missing link to the origin of the species.

The way that this streamlined flowing rhyme is able to turn food for the bears into a digital recreation of the nature of mankind,

not the fabricated,

watered down version of the gossip and the tale of the story gets another just to compare to the song.

Oh there I go again,

not saying anything but what’s already been printed from the past,

one of these days I’ll be able to come to that perfect balance of creating the line through the lucid awakening,

that moment when your natural archetype shines,

and your impression is made upon the blank space of finding your mind in just a matter of time. ”

-Patrick Michael