by Jeffrey Funt
The surface of the mind,,, way high up, is disturbed beyond repair.
|There resides in the mind, a barrier way high up, above everything.
Up in the spaces where cobwebs interbreed and become the unknown.
Up there,,, where venomous excrements infuse the unexpressed and repressed
with bitter and unsatisfied revelations.
A Dead-Raw Grey Screen resides high up there in the mind,
and it's straining taught.
Now and again it's bulky mass shifts.
A staggering weight is exerted upon the constructs of the mind,
which is born from prayers and whispers,and sometimes even less than that.
At first only one single thread in the Dead-Raw Grey Screen
gives way and breaks.
Then a second, and a third thread, succumb to nebulous asymmetrical explosions.
Fractional bursts implode, as speed super collides full-stop,,,
splintering into fractal jags which jive,
an exponential dive out of control.....
The Dead-Raw Grey Screen overheats in nano-rushes
while torrid screams wrench the peace.
Ever accelerating in leaps and macro-bounds,
and interbreeding into a lethal seething core of white-hot ice.
Emotions erupt while giveing birth to ever-expanding Dolby-Monsters
at jackhammer speed,
who slash and tear and emerge everywhere, all at once.
From the point at which we began,
to points beyond all comprehension;
rage fire and storms.
Instability corrupts violently with a virulent and infectious, momentum,
as a wild seething fury gyrates Helter-Skelter
and out of control.
The surface of the mind,,, way high up,
is disturbed beyond repair.
Like a renegade or a raging nomad:
It has detached itself from the rest.