Random electro beat

tannertan36
AnasAbdin
🪼
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

shark vs the universe

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

PR's Tumblrdome

Kaledo Art
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

oozey mess
h
occasionally subtle
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Peter Solarz
we're not kids anymore.

izzy's playlists!

Discoholic 🪩
todays bird
$LAYYYTER

seen from Mexico

seen from Singapore

seen from Canada
seen from Indonesia
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from Italy
seen from United States

seen from Colombia

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Jordan

seen from TĂĽrkiye

seen from Peru

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@xanhalen
Random electro beat
Dry nightmares & lucid fantasies
Black & white fever dream
of adolescence
A mother’s warmth
Brothel-stench
The end of spring
Hitler in grade school
Dead dogs
& first valentines
Chocolate milk
& copulation
Coping mechanisms
& crops
Accident off the HWY
Simple-folk w/
thousand-yard stares
& rural vernaculars
Ignoring memories
until I recoil
in amazed horror
Forgive the future
Forget your sin
Quaint strangers
line a matinee
Sultry women
in dimly lit bars
The psychology of comedy
===================
Mountain retreat
Black dress
of the waitress
Those eyes
Cities on the hunt
Daughters in the night
Reality of morning
Flashes of who
& what we were
Holy affection
Her ways
The end of laughter
& soft times
The nights we said “forever”
& cried
Now memories of Omaha
& trips through dawn
haunt my mind w/ grace
——-
A black & white film
about the future
burns out,
phoenix-like
Underground noir
Sermon on the marquee
Babies in modern prams
rest in the Danish sun
Clandestine labs of black magic
Soft words
People start religions
w/ one line
——-
The words you chose to calm me
we’re concise epics
Sometimes
I feel like
a black cloud
in the ether
of nothing
Empty bottles, half ounces & inside jokes
w/ sly timing
The consensus
of middle-class Jesus-freaks
Green visions of sea-foam
Highs & lows
at the casino
================
First beat
Produced by Lil Cope) (me)
{Schopenhauer}
There’s a hundred plain faces
seeming lost in nothing
The back-alley Lutherans
file languidly to their cars
The laughter of recess
scoring the background
Here I am
Naked in thought
& clothed in confusion
Another evening
blends into itself
& becomes the Night
Cold desert crime
acted out by shy inbreds
& a family gang
If someone made god,
what can we make of ourselves
What stories will they say
when you’re almost forgotten about
Tender golden years
spent on a quiet farm
w/ a loyal dog
(The last harvest)
Rambling patrons
Voyeurism
The hills of South Dakota
Caravan of nomads
at dusk
Children & their concept
of Jesus
Contemplation
in the shade
of August
**************
Psychosis:
A song floats w/ grace
above Catholics
in the country afternoon,
through the hills
where mutants
mine for fish
& under a bridge
where it’s heard by winos
living in sweet squalor
Belief
Reservations
The doom of a loved one
Aborted angels in the mud
——————————-
Nightmares & lucid fantasies
Dreams that replay adolescence
A mother’s warmth
Brothel-stench of open sores
The passing of summer
Hitler in grade school
Dead dogs
& first valentines
Chocolate milk
& copulation
Coping mechanisms
& classic sitcoms
Girls of the county fair
Buxom teachers
Bloated cattle
& piles of swine
Quaint strangers
catching a matinee
Prayers of America
Carnival-children
of the Midwest
working token games
Amphetamine mannerisms
& toothless smiles
Malt liquor
& petty vandalism
Cheap cigarettes
from the reservation
(Gypsy Americana)
Accident off the HWY
Simple folk w/
thousand-yard stares
& rural vernaculars
A victim of my past
Ignoring memories
until I recoil
amazed in horror
Forgive the future
& forget your sins
Sultry women
in dimly lit bars
The psychology of comedy
—————————————-
Mountain retreat
Black dress of
the waitress
Those eyes
Cities on the hunt
Daughters in the night
Reality of morning
Flashes of who
& what we were
Holy affection
Her mind
The little things
The end of laughter
& soft times
The last of nights we said “forever”
& cried
Memories of Omaha
Trips through dawn
You haunt my mind w/ grace
****************
-B
The woman without a middle name:
When night arrives,
it’s calmness seems to
mimic heavenly acoustics
Sunday school
& children out of wedlock
The stench of trendy foreign herbs
& hope
on geometric tapestries
Knowing I’ll wake up
in that bright-yellow hue
************************
A black & white film about the future
The tape burns out,
Phoenix-like
American noir matinee
Sermons on the marquee
Babies in modern strollers
resting under the Danish sun
(Clendestine labs of Black magic)
Never underestimate
the power
of words or their combinations
They’ll burn you in heaven
They’ll give you wings in hell
They start religions
w/ one line
First chair:
Words you chose to calm me w/ were concise epics,
-Please write from the desert
Sometimes
I feel like
a black cloud
in the ether
of nothing
Empty glass bottles & half-ounces & inside jokes w/ perfect timing
The consensus of
middle-class Jesus freaks
Green visions of sea-foam
[Highs & lows at the casino]
Blood on the sheets
——-
“Gonzo”
1.
Have you witnessed
the deity shadow
The one that dances w/ it’s own silhouette
in repression of bright holidays
Have you seen children lost in fun,
Introverted janitors trying to be friendly,
or the sores of lunch ladies
Christmas during the plague
Genocide on Easter Sunday
The second coming on Halloween
Words you want to hear that I won’t write
2.
Whisper me to sleep on sweet Friday
Hush my troubles
Tell stories of nothing while I go back to the womb
Tell me everything is fine
Kiss me softly as I drift off
Wake me w/ a smile & more soft talk
She must be heaven-sent
Phantom-muse girl
hailing from the little city,
warping my psyche w/ best intentions
3.
A killer evading the feds
Getting high
Laying low
inside gothic whorehouses
outlining Corpus Christi
Cooing in the A.M.
As I kiss your brown skin
you roll over & love me out of sleep; affectionate & warm as ever
4.
Thinking about Kerouac as
we drove west
& approached the pined mountains of Denver
Smoked a couple ounces
& drank freely
next to the ocean
in an orange hotel
Nervous as we stunk through
mountain highways of Utah
& the dullness of Nebraska
5.
A cigarette sometimes
calms my nerves
I drink more & more like a poet
these days
Become a librarian in my old age
Read the beats &
classics
to circles
of children
Freelance for the local paper
I’ll hide little jokes in articles
& cover underground topics
Get fat on a farm
Find a wife & love her
Dead man’s hand
Card games
Half empty bottles & cigarette butts
Small talk w/ rednecks
Old women come to town for evening mass
even in the dead of blizzards
Meth plaguing the Midwest
Poor local journalism
Pharmaceuticals on hand before we trip
Copious amounts of grass;
Sex
Pills &
the familiar warmth of whiskey
River-locked land
Iowa’s been good to me
Heartland-child, Product of Siouxland
Dust cyclone of afternoon & seeing coon dogs point
Swine & corn
My dear home of deer
Plains-folk tend to be born or become plain, I’ve lived here long & among them enough to know this unfortunate truth
No one knows why other than those Midwest mutants; too rare to be simple & too inspired that they can’t help it
•••••••••
Sandbar exploration
Tri-hook jigs w/ stink-bait
& being cautious of catfish barbs
Lunch meat, soda
on a green John-boat
Inebriated from the sun
The bus ride to my grandmother’s
Pals from out of town
who also vandalized for the hell of it
& held orgies too
Smoke, grind teeth, repeat
Pick up a book, kid
Put it down & think about picking it up again
I’m used to the humid air
that floats & haunts
the Midwest
I’ve grown accustom
to pheasants in town
& deer under street lights
Bullet casings in the driveway
Out of state holiday
Drunk chortling uncles
Sweet elderly women who smile w/ silver-capped teeth when you wave to them as they tend their gardens
Obituary
Epitaph
A sermon w/ mothers hushing babies
Catholic tactics
As a child I loved Jesus
The feeling of losing Christ
Sunday nostalgia of sun & sleep but never guilt of sin
Write a piece
w/ the country
in mind
or
let it bleed into paragraphs
at random
& wonder if it’s too much
•••••••••••••••••••
Bicycle gangs of children meeting by the railroad tracks
Recessive hairlines of local meteorologists & anchors
Swingers in a small town
One night, on mushrooms
I stood up for the fat girl
who was the topic of the conversation
After a couple minutes of listening to this I felt this instant urge to say something that would cut right through their brains & make them look at themselves
I interrupted someone by saying “I had sex w/ her & she’s really cool if you get to know her” in a deadpan, monotone delivery.
Their demeanors all changed instantly as I slowly made eye contact w/ the entire room as it stretched away from me horizontally
At the peak of my trip, I stood up to go out to the woods & turned back before I got to the old farmhouse door & said w/ a bleak smirk “She’s just as human as any of us”
Golf course massacre
Buffet of cannibals
& men of the cloth
Wild out of the womb
Wicked wit
Quick tongue
The last joke I’ll think of
The last poem I’ll pen
••••••••••••••••••••••••
I’m borderline numb
Benzos
Contemporary ludes
Smorgasbord of vices
The city sleeps,
waiting for the son of suns
or a knight of night
to restore it’s former glory
Forgotten ancient plays
Winter nights
Summer haze
All of us unknowingly commune,
forever seeking different ways
•••••••••••••••••••••
JFK masturbating
Marilyn Monroe O.D.
Dallas sniper
Retreat to a matinee to be
wasted a few days later
by a strip joint owner
while the feds almost had him wheeled him off
••••••••••••••••••••
“I am troubled immeasurably by your eyes, I’m touched by the feather of your soft reply” I’ll remember how you liked me to order sweet potato fries bc you wanted just a couple of them and I never noticed bc I just wanted to give you fries.
“Ross St.”
There’s fog in the cemetery
American woman
The deadly HWY junction
The decaying people in line at old pharmacies
War relics, storm drains filled w/ roadkill
The fifty year-old paper-delivery boy & his aunt who edits & writes the hometown newspaper
I drank next to a priest, picked his brain about seminary school & had him tell me about where he grew up
We would trade books & talk about Freudian concepts as we developed a pleasantly strange friendship
Sliver of heaven or eden in spring
Foraging hill-wives, roam as they sing
Bandits who laugh at their own bounty
Homicide news spreads throughout the county
Can anything or anyone
Help me to almost forget
It’s either something or nothing
All I know is no one’s sure of it
Smoke all day, Reminisce at dawn
The Blues allow me to ask for help in a song
It’s been a couple years, still in my dreams & thoughts
Now when I look in mirrors I don’t seem as lost
Less & less I see those eyes, particularly brown
Watched you leave on Thanksgiving, last time in town
Our neighbors, waving schizo’s that
you see on occasion
Non-guilt freedom of the married swingers
Soliloquy seance
Audible autopsy
Still-fog around the cool cemetery,
Covering death dates & fresh dirt
An American woman approached me at the casino
Lovers at sight, she said one syllable & it turned me into a little boy
(Shy & infatuated)
We stayed together near the bottom a mountain just outside Boulder w/ her friends & her friend’s friends
We walked the streets of that unworldly beautiful city only stopping to hand a homeless man a blunt from my sock (He said “God bless you” & I repeated the same hoping some god out there would) then we got high as we soaked up the art & culture -I thought of all the writers I looked up to who made the same pilgrimage to this particular corner of America (beat poets)
Cinema, love & sex on acid Bats flew above our heads as we held each other whispering about what we had & what could be
***********************
-b
Six-shooters & Cannons
Words & visions
Wounds & foreign vices of home bound sailors, picked up from far places
Wives & their husbands’ valor
Meek sunbeams from above the tide.
The calmness around skeletons
in the ocean floor
Crawling specimens
Bottom dwelling
unknown illuminated creatures
that science will never find
in the midnight ocean
Pirates are cowboys w/ different vessels
Hooch & Murder
Seas & Wild frontiers
Saloon ladies of the night
Island people just behind exotic trees
wait for explorers off the horizon
Consumption & copulation encumber history
A gust slithers old newspapers in stone back alleys, occupied by nomad winos
Who lie in stupor
ignoring multitudes of moments,
lost in the Everything that is
Misleading the ones who will rule the world
“America is hell on earth”
Prejudice melting pots where
The world elite’s & politician’s eyes
gleeful in greed
They hopelessly resemble
Killers,
Dictators
& possess the arrogance of cult leaders w/ megalomaniacal ideologies
Professional witchcraft & vigilantes who kill murderers in their free time;
The practitioners aim for unreal
planes of mass ascension, unfortunately not starting w/ the individual
One seeks glory or justice
One calls on to palliate the dead & recites hexes
of pagan pseudo-religions
Think of the worst among us
Think of the babies who will
grow to be serial killers,
The children who’ll have others tell them
how & what to believe
who go on to
war
for their homeland, blindly w/o thought
to foreign countries solely
to shoot men who are dying
to do the same w/ them
for no different reason
Is greed learned,
Is murder taught, is it simply the dark psychology of humans who ultimately lack restraint
or perhaps before conception it’s destined to be inherited
already embedded w/ in those who cant help but wonder twisted black fantasies
Blood
Bones
Oil
Poppy
Drugs
Money
Sex & it’s aftermath on the soul
A bandit counts bullets at dawn in the hills,
He spares women & children of train cars
These themes date back farther than history
& will forever
drive our world
I want to pick the last flower
kept alive by the sun
I can make realms & mountains shift,
Pines lean as I coolly pass by,
searching for asylum behind some woods
& sudden gusts carrying a city’s secret
I’ll be ready for dawn’s second coming
I’ll be able to dream about home again
& what color of water we’ll find in purgatory
A hundred nun’s repress promiscuous thoughts
Remorse of O.B.G.Y.N’s
-lord loving us with floods of locusts
The complexity of life should be seen as what inevitably shapes us & can simplify existence somewhat
Or thin the herd which grasps chains they love
but will never admit
“Little Chicago”
Neon clubs light up dark corners where
dark dealings light up the eyes of the recipient
A bustle through inebriated animals, congregated scum, & the monsters they let out after each drink
Freud would be in awe to spectate this carnival
“Work & Church”
Lurk & search midnight voids til’ daybreak
Biker clubs groping non-consenting girls crawling saloon to dive bar, back to the saloon after “last call!”
My baby has fire w/in her spirit
My baby has grit
& she has me
Songs, Poetry, and Love are the only things to survive an apocalypse
Our love surpasses time itself after time is long gone
Brown eyed girl
Blue eyed boy
She’s more than my world
With her smile always coy
Someday we May have babies,
by streams they’ll spring & fall
Up the mountains our family shall March
But she’ll certainly always,
always
Be my baby.
No philosophy could change my mind on that.