Gramskrit, Volume 2

A Warm Room For Gentlle Dragons

There’s a room with a door/ But without any walls/ A room that is closed/ To most or to all/A room that contains/ Either love or disdain/ A room that’s a throne/ If it’s God’s And God’s alone

Delight

Brighter than fire/ Free as the wind/ Rose the morning sun/ To meet my elated soul/ Joy and peace/ Hope and love/ Fizzle inside my soda-pop heart

Chapter 2

Long ago when the realm of dreams bordered reality, men crossed easily between the two lands. As time passed, the worlds drifted apart. A snakelike void swam between them. Sinuous, gossamer strands of magic wafted across the chasm and attached themselves to subconscious minds. Dreamland fed from the hearts and minds of men, and when they were good and kind, it flourished. But when men were evil, Dreamland dawned a twisted light.

Patience

The wish of almost and dreams of nearly cloud reality with tears, in part for dismay, and in part for the long suffering and the well trodden path that lies ahead.

The future belongs to those who understand the mystery of their origin, and the miracle of their eternal destiny, while keeping in mind their position with their maker, in the now.

Chapter 4

Spincycle Television (An Alien Cookbook)

Idealistic Endeavor

This is a lovely dish, perfect for intimate company. Start with a static amount of white noise, preferably with broken dialog. Next blend in your favorite music video, to set the appropriate mood. Let these stew together mildly, slowly building in intensity before adding the final touches. Sprinkle in a few passionate embraces and kisses to taste, and finally set the production on fire with soft explossions and wild fires.

Chapter 8

Dynamic Flux

Dynamic stiffling stillness. A troubled soul stuck in that infernal waiting room. Parked inside an American airport. A row of seats steaked out, by me, lined by a wall of personal space. Most passing looks are those of forced congeniality. On permanent delay, with no clear destination. A few fragrant souls encourage with a slice of desire. A bustle of hope awakens as they pass by, and quickly fall back asleep with the ticking of the clocks.