tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202390822024-02-20T08:34:34.361-05:00xoet the poetxoet reads the poetry and music is playedBill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1156930845436343952006-08-30T04:59:00.000-04:002006-08-30T05:40:45.476-04:00what do you call us ??where to start when to end how to finish what we have begendwhat to type when to be polite how to spell what we have saidif there their then they're all right and writting well in the windwe i you us them they those and that which is should be said ahead but if it selves divided in sided between the mean and the good wouldwood of course be free of life itself and yet neither live nor dead not Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1148717192612994292006-05-27T04:03:00.000-04:002006-05-27T04:06:32.626-04:00Time like the putty that xoet shaped with its handsTime like the putty that xoet shaped with its hands or the ideas that created its likeness and then disappearedthe form and functions of the likes of which have never beenyet there it was in front of xoet the window to anytime it would choosewhat to look at what not to look at but when when what was going onand when it took place perplexing as a seed in the ground and then a treethe seed has to Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1144225134457038992006-04-05T03:49:00.000-04:002006-04-05T04:18:54.486-04:00To the dead beef answering the telephoneFine land when it tries to be solid extra light in my eye more echoes tasting like leftover giant bunnies that eat pennys and get ship wrecked on route one. Given that there are more than several constructions of what is real and what is believed to real then the unreal escapes just puts the meter together in the morning Sunday ride to nowhere left and right and between can not satisfy the time Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1142868350705239352006-03-20T10:25:00.000-05:002021-01-10T16:29:36.229-05:00Views and reviewsViews and reviews of the experience call death explaining the waters in flow stopping into the end of knowledge and life is compared to a song that explains who we are and how we go from day to do the things called life as the next layer of the onion that falls aside like a untouched surface of our skin that still explodes with the burning sounds of your eyes on it. Putting together Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1141378697812702872006-03-03T04:27:00.000-05:002021-01-14T20:19:23.717-05:00Even the little things are matterEverything is spinning into the void of nothingness the void does not know how to accept itself as real yet it is not really enough to say that is what is real in the vast cosmos of our plan to be not as real yet really not be....Get it back here to be where it was not being extra weight there ought to be a limit to what we do and not do that there is no difference between them....Is this cloud Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1140945351210486652006-02-26T03:37:00.000-05:002021-12-22T09:30:37.815-05:00earth moodsmaking the earth speak is quite difficult but also quite possible since it speaks to all those who listen with what they know and have known i seem to be caught in a loop i've talked of this before but dealing with dreams on the phone that i never call into the night lights we dream and have dremptBill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1140569443991780542006-02-21T19:50:00.000-05:002021-12-22T07:51:23.914-05:00any of these thingsI don’t have, had any of these things. When does the price come down as, living life costs too much too? Burning my fingernails in my coffee-n there is nothing left to sit on in this time warp called conic distortion. Where does the ever-expanding explanation of music make sense to the different languages that are. Paying the doorman again for the door Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1140422925998890812006-02-20T03:08:00.000-05:002021-12-22T07:50:27.851-05:00That would not flyThat would not fly if you dropped it out a fifth floor window.What if you test it with your washing machine?I’ve upgraded the washing machines OS to a new level of understanding.We can see other things that are not real yet we need to make them real.Toying worthless pages – books have no meaning to Gaia the great.The skin of an orange blesses our little hut with our mindless nut.Trust in Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1138538833063862982006-01-29T06:55:00.000-05:002006-01-29T07:47:16.146-05:00zzzz sss pp r ONEgreen is read and red is seen with out the light of nite as fall off the moon too soon burns my eyes in the sky where troopers patrol the scrolls of lifeless embryonic fluids we coercion into voids less filled with drums and base fish evolve into view of nonsensical disgust covered in dusty crusts when nothing is real yet they go on to there empty lives inside there mindless nine thoughts Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1137385231430538092006-01-15T23:14:00.000-05:002021-01-15T01:30:54.022-05:00the tiger sleeps by the phone
waiting by the phone till over come with sleep
Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1137384864151547492006-01-15T22:56:00.000-05:002021-12-22T07:49:00.908-05:00Forcing myself to laughIt is not funny no matter what way the cookie crumbles the cookie crumbs flake away like ripples away from a stone echoes of thoughts and feeling that seem so unreal like an umbrella the loneliness of blissful not-ness ever alone in a waterfall of evening ripping my heart from my chest I frolic like a butterfly in the blizzard of overemphasized nothing no's of snow escaping into the volumes like Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1136989843898673172006-01-11T09:30:00.000-05:002006-01-11T09:30:43.900-05:00A package of timing sticksA package of timing sticksSpeech slowed and held back, recalistrantThey don't allow me what to say what I saidThe priests talk around it obliquelyBurn the dog well to eat oh boyChip that rock in its hard place andPut what's left in the glass pipe cakePose for the picture and smile on filmCry for your life and fear the otherOtherwise you know how to die it's the work>Of a lifetime to judge Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1136989743023249512006-01-11T09:28:00.000-05:002006-01-11T09:29:03.023-05:00Tears that say goodbye to another past8-11-973:21amTears that say goodbye to another pastThink of her in a past dream foreverShe is gone and yet I remember and go onIt is so hard to say good bye foreverA familiar place ago so small a chillJust a wish for me to wee you againThink on a stone from the moon I see youThere it is and I remember it wellRocks to break again to hard to placeShe is in love with him and you knowHe loves none Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1136989650936513782006-01-11T09:26:00.000-05:002020-08-07T23:43:54.425-04:00Dreaming of this special cloud colour8-11-98
2:25 amDreaming of this special cloud colour
flying to that space i begin to fall
fighting what i fear and lost again
I cry myself asleep in a dream of fear
when she is there, She is not there but here
The colours flow like a river over my head
White exposure is like the water's fall
don't touch them too closely for they know
Splash that puddle you call your mind
and make me real again Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1136989356987490192006-01-11T09:20:00.000-05:002021-12-22T07:43:47.735-05:00poem 1 from hard cover hand writen poems book8-9-97
6:00 am
As i took my last breath
I thought how grateful i was to breath again
At last i breathed it out and was done
It was all gone and it longed for another
To late to see the other side yet
To soon to come back through
Too much to know i don't want to know another
Too far to be gone alone in space
About the same few words i choose
That dream of emptiness without you
In a moment it Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1136247807120426232006-01-02T16:10:00.002-05:002021-01-15T00:19:33.224-05:00my blanket with me underneath
there is an empty way left today were we know
calling you from unda da banket like it or not
wonderen thompin in the waves of realities
we can't effect symbiotic associations related
howeva lives in levels of strife w/o lite
remain insane from pain of the same
the universe explodes a few more
brain cells in my hell of night
better put a sweater on
without the 2 letters
i write my dears
what is Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com02 Woodbridge Ave, Highland Park, NJ 08904, USA40.500623999999988 -74.422655312.037255565267678 -109.57890529999997 68.96399243473229 -39.266405300000031tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1136225564343421172006-01-02T13:12:00.001-05:002006-01-02T13:12:44.346-05:00Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20239082.post-1136225523212263402006-01-02T13:12:00.000-05:002006-01-02T13:12:03.500-05:00Bill Newboldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17286753390288473857noreply@blogger.com0