OneMoreRobot3021 said:

The other day I came across this - it was part of my final project for poetry class, and it was attached to the bottom of a picture of my typewriter set against a psychedelic landscape (a huge poster I have from 1967).  i reread and was stunned to realize...it's the best thing I've ever written.  There are no breaks in it, cause that's how it was meant to be.  Now, take a huge bonghit, and read:

and life i learned was like a pomegranate bitter healthy dark and light so somewhere inbetween the pages i would find an answer like a riddle like a kind of blistered beauty fading into separations inbetween the smoke of things since when i came here it was in the body of a wingless bird a phosphorescent flapping phoenix nightmare dream a lazy boiled down experience progressing towards a day when none shall be but wings upon the nighttime daysky gibberish shall be the tongue and insufficient all the words this is not amanifesto this is not fiction poetry biography no no no no this is NOT BIOGRAPHY and I will not let it be i will not show myself as words or photographs i am so much more than tangible what justice can be done to me to you to all of this i know we know what god is that is not the issue here the issue is the situation is its wordless wordy wordy birdy flirty dirty nature nurture future pictures will not show us in our bodies crying BINARY BINARY BINARY finite is alright finite is all all all right and each of us is one tiny apocalypse of cocks and lips and sometimes i assume i boil down to shit and semen nothing more, just eat fuck eat fuck eat fuckm, this causes breaks and pauses i can not allow a pause i cannot allow a moment of my nonexistent time to spend itself inside itself it must all be forgotten, i must leave myself to move into myself to once again just drop myself and fly myself and cry myself and dry myself myself my self i could have written myself on to this page but instead i gave you this, which is myself, these pauses will not be tolerated commas are a question of an ethic in the judgment of our morals i find fault my good is evil and evil good but those are two and we are one i laugh at this, it makes me laugh, no pause just laugh this is my mind reflected how i think in ink how funny funny tralalalalalalalala believe me when i lie to you and lie to me if i begin to believe you that is how we'll start our own game our own life and planet in the beginning there will be light and in the end there will be nothing that is how the game is played the rules are clear my love my love my love is one long film about eternity this will not end this will not end because i write the moments as they come and they shall never stop so tra tra tra tra la la la fa fa mama mama if you only knew, but she is a pause, we will not pause the past we will progress the present, this is a present, stop it we cannot afford to wait your history is all a lie and this getting tired but it never stops just like sine it ups and downs and ups and downs and ups and downs and all around and side to side and somewhere up above i lied but if you took the time to find it you would already have lost i would be gone an eon a peon a psychedelic freedom biter wrighter writer righter riter smiter of the written i could burn this i will not burn this i miss her like rain right now the sun outside the thought of clout of cloud of star and shroud where did you find me where did you love me how did you need me where are you now what are you now i know the answer to every single question and i keep them somewhere i am not permitted to remember but i found a teacher and he taught me that

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Wow...straight from the head of OneMoreRobot. 

My favorite parts...

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i begin to believe you that is how we'll start our own game our own life and planet

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i must leave myself to move into myself to once again just drop myself and fly myself and cry myself and dry myself

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i know the answer to every single question and i keep them somewhere i am not permitted to remember but i found a teacher and he taught me that

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Thanks for sharing. 

Attention deficit taking...hold..reading...so hard...no punctuation...

Really very good stuff my friend

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each of us is one tiny apocalypse of cocks and lips

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More Poetry, and less rant.

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Freeker said:

Just because it's random and spontaneous doesn't make it good.

More Poetry, and less rant.

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Random and spontaneous is great if you can hold it together, which is done admirably in this case. Modern poetry needs more rant and less pretentious bullshit. Brav-o !