donate to ya boy

Friday, November 9, 2012

I.

I just wanna write poetry to you until I die
is that all right? do you have some time?
to sit down and decifer each line,decide if I might
be that guy that youd come home to each night

I spy
with my little eye
a nice little wrench in the spokes
thats fucking with my mind.

consistently consenting about constrictions & depections
of nights where we drank to much & ended up deep inside of sin,
in the christan sense
giving into moral temptations & risking friendships

I'd do it all over again.

even though our families are friends,and the group at our wedding would be tight nit
I wouldnt trip on that shit
nah,
I love you just how you is.

but im also in buissness of telling people how it goes,so if you want the sunrise
youll have to travel by moonlight,too/
and when those two instances are eye to eye
you'll understand where

I

live.


a rock floating aimlessly threw the universe...


atop this flaming golden chariot
which abides by neither mans restrictions
or GODS
limits.


I figured I'd get some 'for instances'

just so this limbic system can get a minute.

HXXVX

this is one of those
I wish you could love me
poems...
more so,I wish I was older.

(a shoulder open to different aspects & case folders)

I keep falling for women half the age of my mother
a few years shy of my brother
whether this is trouble or not
is yet to be told.

its hurt a lot so far
as everything does.

so these thoughts bring me back to her
the subject of so many words I've strewn before.
so many miles to roam
why do I have to get heart broken in person every time though...
do I just know,
or do I make it be so?

(monologues are optional as we share smoke)

these positive manifestations get me confused & under sweet womens clothes
snuggled up in their homes,where they feed me...
keep me warm.
which is all Ive ever wanted...but their never the one...
I want them so desperatly to be...

but they dont have HER pharamones

(& Im as close to crazy as I can clone)

so if I dont show up soon
GOD knows who will
or who has...
oh.


( )


WHICH IS WHY IM BACK AT IT AGAIN...
falling in love with those words you read...
why these wiser thoughts appear in my head
& our transcribed by my fingers
so I can keep it to myself until I can get a pen in that hand
or a little rubber on the cement

a few miles further from the desert...where I hear mirages play tricks on lesser heads
but sadly
my eyes are wide open
& I AM A MOTHERFUCKING GENTLEMAN...

God Damn the life of a Poet.
the life Ive finally learned to accept
its easier then

JUNKIE.

FAILURE.

SPECTACLE.

...but what isn't...and what is it about this life that dosent make me fear death?
is it that I am the walking dead...
who some how stumbled into heaven
without a thought in his head...

that cold january morning as I ran naked down dirt roads outside of orlando convinced I was dead...to only come back to camp to watch you

dance.

(and again,these poems are as abstract as the thoughts in my head)

I digress.


Wednesday, November 7, 2012

poetry for the desert

stale socks and the smell of 600 cigarettes,
none from yourself
but by,GOD...your a poet,BOY!
YOU were born to smell like the rest of 'em!
We huddle on the premise of the hostel off 66
in 'querque,new mex
talking about the future & what we need from it...
staying hip is why we will bleed from it...
all acceptable...all unreasonable...
"I got your mom at the dream angle with a pocket tube."
those kind of grimy sentences that you'd like to write home about
if even half of your family would understand you
but you don't even understand you!
you end up at synagogs on Sunday mornings for Christan worship services
& free breakfast...high as fuck...delicately discussing your thoughts on the beatitudes;
& what Jesus means to you.
I mean he seems like a cool dude...
so thats why you hide your phone in your pamphlet during the sermon texting your best friend...
"only you dude."
only you would surf the couches of the world from your group...
only you aren't concerned about monetary aspirations...
only you.
and obviously the kingdom of heaven isn't in the rear view...
what kind of poets would we be if we didn't read until we were kicked out of the venue...
"we're all here from out of town,so fuck off! We'll go until you shut us down!"
& even then we wont have half our shit out of the green room...
luckily my green was still in its container...but the eight year olds with a dance show case had some how gotten,Paul's,vodka & pepsi bottle...
so we knew...
smiling and scurrying out as fast as possible with a non sealant attitude...
only to be separated by the gentle sunset of an albequrque beer run...
where bud,metro & I shot shit like bullets
& lindsey,rae & ryder spared no expenses as the night bled with its colors...
Tao.
the seasons...an impound worry...tax breaks & election treason...
the reason half of us will never see what we deserve seeing...
but fuck the reasoning...and fuck hurrying
if I could spend the rest of my life in this moment then I wouldn't trade it for the universe...
and maybe if I was older...
maybe my heart wouldn't be so hard.
AND maybe if you didn't have a superhero...
I'd just take a trip to,Arizona....or say whats on my mind...
or just move into this hostel and just...doze off...waste some time
but reality comes tomorrow...
and I still havent taken these clothes off..
even after the miles of glass I walked...
or the miles of glasses I drank...
I don't know if I can go home ever again...
but then again...this is the first time Ive had a home since I was seventeen (and even that one was owned by the church)...so...
maybe this one time.
maybe this life is working exactly how I deserve it to be...
maybe at this moment,
God,
is smiling down on me saying
"relax,B"

JESUS CHRIST,GOD DAMNIT,YOU KNOW MAYBE I WILL!

instead of writing wills every day...
carving headstones will be my thing.
that way the world will breathe with me.
but no,
some do it for the fame
some for the glorification of their name...
thats why I don't use a real one...its simply God's will.

so I can stay true

Thursday, November 1, 2012

>mfw

writing poetry to some witch I havent met yet
shovenistic ass clown with a fetish for staying lit
laying in my bed,high as fuck,complaining about the current state of the american government.
and its come to this...hash hits with no britches on,with the brink of winter
gas stove on,cooking up marvelous rhymes in the kitchen,in which I get
minor praise for doing,
a sign that sylvan learning center didnt do shit for this middle class mad dog
a major reason I should have been tossed to the heathens covered in seasoning
because the season is the reason Im bringing the pain
& im still not being taught expenses,or the way to stay complaicent in the middle of the rat race.
lest I move on.
all wrong/all right
I love women all night due to perscription drugs and lack of a better passtime
ass rhymes spew out in my down time,the main reason my mom frowns everytime I get in
town now,
class clown into cash cow,just the way things work out
foul mouth spinning harsh words because
family reads it too
new world tactics to let everyone know this old soul
dos what he dos
rude...the main complaint these days
0 fucks
the tings I gave
give
still...spit until my cup is filled
or I get myself killed
because I can do nothing but be
real.
lie,cheat,steal
all to get a
meal.
all those feels.

intuit

spring,hail,sleet,snow,July turn December
these blistered fingers are hook,line & zinger
got me into the dialogue like Maury/Wilkos/Springer....preacher with a heater
digg & get the meter,
meteor shower type word reader at his zenith
word of mouth come up on the lowkey parade of leachers
watch as I spin this art & your soul is reached...
due to me,naw,im simply out in the streets
fuckin up towns
demanding clout,stringing bleeps....you
your just in your hometown
complaing about how you never get
out.
me
I see all sorts of things
like passion in the rain
or blood stains on the audomin
inaudible gargalling from my followers
because no man deseves
all
this.
and I barely have 60.00 dollars to my dick
being that its almost winter
I should dip south & dissapear for a bit
but Im way to proud to
so Ill just sit still and
omit
every single word I ever conjured in the cauldron I call
concience
intuit/
post modern DADA
realisim with a hint of not giving a fucking
shit.




Monday, October 29, 2012

"

I dont sleep much
nor well
it has nothing to do with fish scale
or private hells
just an air matressess.
carless actor
half-ass poet.
ghost like todo,poof,up in smoke
coast to coast
low pro
dont talk much
puff-puff
im not involved in lush brushs like rush
plus
I dont have a lot of time for dribble.
all it is //is hush-hush.
scribbles and pen strokes for this bloake moaning
roasting
ramble
roundhouse
flail of syllabus,
composed of smoke & a few nights in a jail house
i think it has somthing to do with failing now
im tired of my hands at rest
i need more scars
more burns
more tests
lordy lord the herds are marching to slaughter
i feel otherworldly at hours
still.
power
lack there of
the over whelming lust for knowledge
all crushed
satellite/meteorite
long bearded man-child
driving at top gear on a motorizedhover-bike.
david icke.
half hour power outage
brain circuts circus
warning
I think im into belly dancers & isolated train
compartments with fine cigars and catered diner cars.
submerged memories;crumbled pages of memoirs
battle scars so hideous they need beauty marks
star charts
dark arts
mirrors for line division
night vision
& the way she walks alone in the park
unafraid of sharks
I mumble out sparks,I see stars
she been abucted by aliens before
"god damn"
I say
"what exactly was it you saw?"
she rambles on
&
on.
until she can barely talk
we both havent walked in moments
so my dead legs burn as I try to adjust
I can feel it in my SOUL that this took all her
trust.
but adjusted truth,proven fact
speculation,generalizations
& doubt
I was out of things to do
I never controled anything,why should I be able to
for you
I'd do anything
splatter my brains in revolutionary tales for decades
until they become
legand
that becomes myth
& the sands of time wash it away...
I never wanted to be anything,and look at me now,I'm exactly that
except with the stroke of a pen,
& the right shake of a hand that could all
end.
its all spin,until rent cant come up again
but thats why I have friends who dont know my kin
now & again
I'll lend a helping hand to uphold a sentence
Ill never serve one
unless I plan it.
finish him,rings in my head as I walk threw the valley of death
...I wish this was one of those for 'instances'
or all for divedends
but again
I stress
Its just the paranoia I live in
at least I admit it,
never let it get all in
because once you lose sight
it could all
end.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

older.

I lost so many friends to being who I am
so I never lost a one
& this,the outcome
is the most beautiful thing I could have ever imagined.
my soul is filled with passion,especially threw the action
of holding my loved ones.
these beautiful women I wake up for,the same ones Id kill for
a normal reaction to passion of the heart
more & more I see myself becoming the villain
from telling the truth
or being steadfast in my opinion.
in my opinion
this is the brash reaction of a street rat
one whos mom and dad still breast feed them cash
so they can act out what they dont feel inside:
pride.
a sense of self,
the apple of my eye
the reason I reside in the slums
or in a penthouse each night.

a word to the wax

this
foliage salutes my ruin
to many listless nights run ruthless
lurid chunks of "posts" & proof reads
blue prints to sooth punks &
retired priests.
beliefs anchored so deep
to even question seems to be
without reason.
seasons wear on and eventually breed treason
lesions lead to coffins
war bleeds each solider of pension
returning hobbled,
or mentally spent
becoming nothing more then a spectacle to be scoffed at
as they simply try to move on
& follow passions.
tragic,
peeling off their skins & only shitting with the use of aparatus
amputee tongue tied sample of reason/
social status
why I sit on the side line ignited into a blind fit of passion
because my best friends are so brash all they wanna do is bash heads in
& I feel em
except my enemies reside in office buildings
& aren't blindly following prophets from centuries ago
no
my enemies are garnering wealth & power regardless of outcome
mmm
mmm
mmm
I can smell fear.
this isnt even close to a power struggle
so my intial thought is to get from round here
intentions so clear
love of my peers
so much so,that I'll continue to steer
this flesh & bones
right threw the stratosphere
so we can reach the stars
that brought us here.
and if I fall
before I wake
I pray my brothers & sisters find themselves wide awake
on the other side of pain
instead of wading threw a firey lake.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

VII

relaxing on this bed of air
listening to her heart beat on the other side of heaven
I can only hope when its my time
I will be half as timid.
so arrogant
now that this brains focus has been opened
examined
& like a rotten cadaver,tossed to the cannibals to dismember
I WILL construct a new portrait
a dissertation on the purity of my opus
disenfranchised the night my eyes scattered like a murder of crows
my memory of her is out of focus
splashes of sunlight in fractiles,
with dirty old clothes
as that fire in my heart rose to the rafters
with laughter,I consistently explode out a symphony of cander
let us snuggle & get blunted in the anex
a dream to a manic depressive
with anxiety
& an unwillingness to accept negative manifestations
yet,
I digress.
press on,sing on,these are the words in my lungs
neon stop lights signal every bar on the way home
and here I am,
alone
reading cormac mccarthy and pulling whiskey as I conjur up poems
oh and the sun
its long gone
all spun out on the lawn as I speak in hodge podge
old friends lost hope a long time ago.

Is this how the greats lived
is this how my parents envisioned their sons gifts

albatroses tied to his neck,wings locked into place,coasting jet streams for decades
and yet all people see is my feet dangling
streets run gangrene with old concepts,even older prophets
telling you to cop ish,and shop till you drop,
bitch.
because thats all you is,a ho in the masters garden
& thats for all races
all genders.
splintered factions will do nothing but fraction the movement
a million seperate parts moving as one
that is the planet I'm from
join me on it.
not that scare tactic,
duopoply facade...even if its been done before
LETS DRINK,LETS PARTY,LETS FUCK
lets think,lets art,lets teach
because all 3 concepts
need repeat.

we were each born liars
we were all born free

let me cut out my tounge before I get to preachy...

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

shots at the bar

I was born with a chain saw for a heart
& buzz saw jaws
ready to tear apart any of you DOGS
who just bark,bark,bark
socks full of padlocks are my entourage//catch me in the garage
car on
middle of winter,smoking swishers
no shirt on painting portraits in
MY selfish IMAGE
writing this scripture your now envisioning
manifesting,and seeing yourself
involved with .
I AFFECT THE CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM
like a nervous sister waiting to get hers//after watching the rest of the family get hacked to
bits.
stupid kids
always bitching about not getting any.
wake up in diffrent cities
with 3.50 in your pocket
no maps & torn socks
then complain about the state of things
and how you deserve more profit.
I do.
not so I can by jewels
SO I CAN PROVE TO MYSELF WHAT I'M HERE TO PROVE
loose wiring//firing of syllabus and synonyms like lightning
realizing full circle events from my
childhood
and its all due to knowledge of self
proof of truth written across this body with various scrapes
& teeth marks.
IMAGINATION
the thing that brought us out of the dark
to the zentith of enlightenment were at now...
but it seems like a belly full of entitlement is all these fat cats
shovel into their mouths
in the midst of the rubble
us ruggard
unmuscular
puddles of divedends (to the upper echelon)
will get our full rebuddle
with extra clips
even as I write this sentence
with all this new legislation
I could up
& DISAPPEAR.
peers wouldent be able to clear up my whereabouts
ha no doubt
I wont be residing at Gwen Stefanis house
Ill probally be in the catacombs of the Scottish rite
getting spiked///
so out of spite
I write this tonight
so if I die,my life
will inject some into closed eyes
because these times are passion//laced with red handed denial
as romans,we shall fall as the romans fell
in hell
lets take shots at the bar.



Saturday, October 13, 2012

I met my baby in the firing line

overly dramatic prose
pro
trying to return from a semester of
dope.
months turn to dumps on this runaway train of
ours,
sparring like war lords so we don't end up behind
bars.
but the news encourages to turn our brothers
in.
I'm in the motherland hoping this blows
overhead
but the feds in control
and the golds all gone
so now all they need are our
guns.
so the goons are out
and the hoods ablaze
with rape
& crack cocaine
kids as rich as CEOs spilling brains in hopes someone///
ANYONE...will remember their name,
their the same ones who've blatantly bombed each city with it,
no worries
they'll be dead in moments
if not seconds.
& the subsequent months will humble the young drastically.
the youth who survive will be scared into anonymity
& will no longer hope to die so
dramatically.
the ones of the middle
like me,myself & I
will harbor lakes of fire in their eyes
ready to ride threw life on rims with no tires
sparks flying because we're so wired
& hungry
and deserve so much
much
more.
more jewels
more bombs
more loans
we're getting bored raiding one portion of EARTH
US AMERICANS DESERVE IT ALL!
or should I say the buisness plot
of '33
which really started in 1911
so FUCK WOODROW WILSON,
THE FEDERAL RESERVE,
& INDEFINITE DETENTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm out here gettin some &
these politicians got some nerve
that's why I don't plan on stopping until my soul is silenced
& the tree of liberty is replanted
or the stump is burned.
thanks to ruthless cowards who hide in towers
controlling the bank of England
affecting the rest of the worlds economics
GOD DAMN I hope I GET DEAD
for martyrs spar long past their death;
devoid of debt or the rule that couples
deciet.
full of furious vengeance
like 9/11 just happened again
probably because its in planning
but I ain't no
Nostradamus
just a student of history & the law
trapping our way out of the system.
FUCK A BILDERBERG
Ive got streets to turn
into cultural meccas!
where you can pray freely to Mecca
or a Christian
GOD
though I don't abide by either one
still on the up & up with my
soul.
so
I sit quietly with a smile & a gun
ready to take back our .orgs
& .govs
returning it to the people of the world wide web
each person,
ever so interconnected.
stressed
I guess I'll down another soma
because these dilitonts will be dessert by the time I'm
sober
silenced so my brothers can fight shoulder to shoulder with soldiers
& atlas can finally share his burden.
scores of the daring impaired will tear down ferries wheels
and high rise condos
museums will turn to rubble,as the Hubble telescope gets more and more distant
from our frontal lobes
and children will throw rocks & sticks at fortresses for the rich
simply so they'll receive scraps for
dinner
& as winters draw longer
and our hemispheres Dosi doe and leave us all in embarrassment
"that our great global society has come to this"
no lights.
no IV's.no televisions.
just Darwinism...& Robert Frost recites in the skeleton of a bombed out wall street.
I hope this call is not lost...
I hope GODS LOVE can protect us from friendly fire
drones
this is the world I'm from
the one I was promised
the one with limited options
each so harmless.
which is why I stand pat
& never lose my focus.
this is apart of my opus
intertwined with my endless waltz
where the night-skies smell of fireworks...and even the meek live life like the upper echelon.
I day dream of an Apocalypse
where the only lives lost are lost to living
this is the future I envision
a planet with two suns//not the metaphorical one
I see an air ship with countless turrets
people of all colors
uniting against of only one
that tiny splash of green in the rainbow spectrum....
tis why I appear careless;
nefarious
so I wont have to survive on carrot sticks
or under surveillance
NO!
THIS IS MY METH LAB
MY VOICE OF THE DOOMED
THIS IS MY THICK WHITE PORCELAIN
EYES UPON DABLOOMS!
THIS IS MY CHURCH
MY GOVERNMENT
MY WOMB!
THIS IS MY QUILT!
but brother
sister
stitch your own square in too
however rudimentary.
however
beautiful.
I'am planning on going harder then teiniman square
because I'm scared shitless that the youth wont care
only because they wont know
what they've missed...a life devoid of debt.
credit
ascension into heaven
or DESTINY
becomes one that YOU mold and dictate without limitations
though if you don't believe,
or breathe with the pain
you'll never believe.
as for me,I am not intimidated.
I will fight tooth & nail until my hopes are incinerated
hop on my little spaceship
& ghost
claiming my little corner of the universe
here,
in the cheeseburger nebula...


I HAVE A GORILLA ON MY BACK...ITS NAME IS THE RENISSANCE.


Thursday, October 11, 2012

PLEASE

asleep on a trapeeze wire...no desire,but home...however that comes.

ignited insight on coast to coast flights
high times in pressurized cabins
blabbering about factions and how WE see it happen
PLEASE
keep the needle seated in a full and up right position
if the emergency lights come on
just pray,
son.
weve already been left speechless by the gleams of cities beneath us
teaching reason to the passenger weve been seated next
to
those seedy bastards
bashful and full of sport
worth a full night of drinking & carolling
door to door in the early morn
the horn sections of our favorite jazz numbers
so the norms know we stew
like sewage under neon streets
a misma of a million sheep
all discussing similar topics
like who they'd fuck
& where to eat.
moon after moon.
I need meat
raw solid facts,logic that set me up for traps
gasp, grasp my nads & spray
this is doomsday
im only surviving off relentless nosebleeds and K
cat tranquilizers for those who are estranged
claim tags keep me bracing for the worst
"...slammed into the side of building then burned..."
rubbish
rubble collected from my soul is I tumble threw written words
mumble out my own eulogy
watch the night sky burn
um
I live on a planet with two suns
& I too am a
son...forged of pain & trust.
coupled with extensive brain damage due to drugs
the reason I claim to be a DR & perscribe myself medication.

We've all got a lot to be thankful for

were all on the doorstep of death.

frown.

faint stare
fair is cheered when careless pains embaress the
saints
spare me the quaint/melodramatic
quips used to
escape.
a reality inside of a dream,careened vessel
inside of a never ending cycle/
it would seem
no interuptions,no assumptions//interceptions.
touchdowns.
just 100 percent affection and consumpution
fumbles.
firstdowns.
the key word to my ascension
the main reason for my

crown

that and triple beams//jesus/allah/vishnu/jim
PLEASE///spare me
the rest of the century is baring down on me like pyramids with eye lids
its rather careless of ye oldtimers to leave it as it
be.
to not see how these assanine limitations affect me.
clean break
speed date dump session,regretfully
its like taking a rhinoscerous to the midsection
unpleasent...to say the least
a roll of the dice
but sheesh...
its just the nature of the
feast.
the beast inside of me says its time to
eat
but my feet are glued to the
concrete
so when options are
obsolete,
what do we
need
feeding frenzys at dennys with plenty of whip cream and bondage
it sounds so wrong but in a way redundant & at strong peace
my pundents are repugnent and handle no trust funds
because my trustafarian brothers have all moved on from this lawn
a grassy knoll where I watch minds blow
nose goes on this last pirate mission//before we set up retirment homes for 26 year olds
the main vision
gain intrest,speer doubt
let our intrest gain hourly and let no fear in our mouth
my soul is from the south
my body is in the mount
count me in on saving this country from extenction
I know im not the only patriot breathing
the only seasoned vetran teeming
with excitment to gt back out on the feild and ignite
reason.
i preach about enlightnment
because its what I need to combat the establishment
the revolving door prison/military industry complex we find ourselves
in
young men
women
hell bent
on
freedom.
come,come/hush my son
if god so wanted to judge,they too would be punished
brush them aside
and pray wildy for the rest of your months
let flow the rascals
let flow the cunts.
rush to the tunnels to sleep soundly and soft
the moment to battle has
begun
I see it in the souls of my sisters
&
brothers.
father forgive those who do not understand whats coming
the writing is on the wall and is rather unbecoming
but money
&
cities
will always breed enemies...
so we feed that head...until it begs and begs and begs
to be deceased
in a sentence...
my days consist of consent\
exhibitional inhibitions without discipline
either,stipulations become consistent
or bodies become dividends
this is sin
written as if time had no gimmicks
and my intrinsic wits were limitless
trippy...as if my quantum physics were mimicked
then
subsequently reinjected like stimulus
let us pause for minutes
reflect on how eclectic and checkered my past can get
I start trapping and changing the climate

because I am who I am.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

3

I once loathed how cold blooded I had become
now I'm bored from the sound of the war drums
fees,fines,loans,sum
I feel the stranglehold of "too big to fail" corporations
they've stationed themselves at the top of the key
we're boxed out underneath
taking heat
itd take magic to get us back to the bleachers.
teachers,nurses,fireman,post workers
throw them in the blender then toast to their hard work
you choke on your gold and rubys
Ill smear my face with the dirt...upholding my fore fathers duties
this earth was meant to mold
not on grand scales but on your own particular road
take root
follow threw
whats done is done...truth is truth
proof that what we do day to day dosent define
WHO YOU
think we are...the bars are raised
your just at bars trying to get laid
Im on the grind trying to get paid
because a day where I dont collect funds is a waste of a day
plus its not about the monitary aspirations
its only tools so this dream isnt an aberration
to many of you fools are caught up in dividends
and ways to spend the money you havent even gotten yet
its pretty sad that you say you fight the system
when your a main supporter of it
fitted caps,ripped up pants
trying to fit a round peg into a square head
round up the troops,
Im goin all in...servin up scoops to prove im loose with expenditures
but not unwise in the universe.
lurid landscape portaits with my girls as they smoke on the porch
the sunset hits off the glasses of jim
showering technicolor prisims on the front yard and the windows
this is my crescendo




Sunday, October 7, 2012

***

she sat sideways,fully supporting herself on her right arm...she was naked
baked
shaking from the amphetamines and benzodiazapenes
quietly she slid her arm down the length of the bed until she was fully outstretched
left leg now delicatly placed on her right hip
biting her lip
she breathes out a symphony of regret
all to worthless to be scripted out
all to beautiful to ever
forget.
now years later,
states later...after long lay overs,and praise from various patrons
I sip patron,
simply to be cliche.
smoking grams of haze to sail away from these mental wastelands

Id like to say I miss those days...

Id also like to take a moment to pray

that it never gets back to that place.

shes dead by the way.

such is the grand scheme of things.

87'd

slow roads lead to large loans;
insurmountable debt.
long paragraphs you keep close to the chest leads to closet depression.
the main reason my thoughts are always public.
caring nor kindness has a definition of weakness
Ill impale your head upon stakes lining the high way into my metropolis
just to let the transients know their welcome
at a cost...regardless of income.
I'm getting to big for my britches
I feel it in every stitch that pops
pusses & sizzles.
pauses for brittle bones finger painting portraits of burned down homes
airports seiged and used as outposts
this is the world I see upon the horizon
a planet with two suns
a bed with no love,only fucks & lust
a dichotomy to some
normal days to most.
I was born to breathe fire & brimstone,in the ways that my father tried
but his soul died the night he became the apple of his "fathers" eye
then dedicated his life to exactly what he has been fighting against ever since...
this is my opus
a manifesto
the crucifixion of my openness.
I quote and steal every word I spin
pissing on conventional wisdom until I get some recognition
and with that open fourum...and a mic in my hand
Ill let my agorophobic narcacisim reign supreme
inbetween my dashes of social life
blazing trails upon the social scene.
reem after reem of paper I could write until my life was nothing but a flickering blip on the radar screen...which is all its ever been
oh,my little bean
keep me sane
Im filled with anger on a day such as today
ready to put my little heart on display for the world to rape
let the three tears I cry every eight months get the best of me
finally break down and break every bone in my hand
punching the fences down I keep getting tried to be placed in
these pens are not my home
those pins are not your life
heady dready kids with no direction running out of time...thats fine
as long as you dont try to bring down my high
BECAUSE IM FUCKING THRASHED
high on life,still brash as fuck rolling blunts until my lungs give up
or the sun super novas
rolling over novices like a bull dozer
GREAT SCOTT
I think ive pulled my self sober,
bloody noses is the only thing thats kept me from diplomas
chronometric tho,
I'm watching the birth of a universe unfold
my eyes have eyes
& I'm one with my earth.








Saturday, October 6, 2012

The fields of Austin.

the fields of Austin
never leave my soul
the breathe on my lips
turns to smoke

I wallow in the graveyard
with poems I scribbled for her
she brings a bottle of whiskey
we sleep away the afternoon

awoke by neon lights
the nightlife calls us home
after parties are the only celebrations
we get up for.

shes beautiful...so much so it hurts
I sleep by the fire;mile high
in hopes
she'll join to keep me warm.

when the morning rolls in
and the record still spins
we wake up and smile at each other
before readjusting;reliving the past few sentences all over again.

NIBIRU

patiently waiting on a pole shift
on the highlands in the middle of this continent
pensive & retracted...keeping my mouth zipped
& you still wonder why I get lit.
vomit spit threw rusty nails and snaggle tooths
to buy time and solidify truths
these people can BUY YOU
but thats of this world,
boo.
the only doom I speak truths too comes from hevean
a safe haven for wes cravens with X cravings
as long as their love lamp is on

shining

like the gold they need us to be mining

hold up...

Im trying.

to not give to much away,because these day to days dont have equal wages
to keep me life expectancy as high as most of these arrogant bastards think
complacency gets boys beheaded,and women undressed and tossed into vile pits
full of vultures & wolves with a fetish for perky tits
getting spent out on cashed out dreams,high beams cutting threw solar eclipses

solid proof

that were being lied too...I bet you know more about celebrities then how the moon effects tides

how brothers & sisters are dying...simply because of mining rights

land disputes.

We've ruined this planet

so im ready to be on Nibiru

the tenth rock in our solar system on introverted trajectory orbit

that only our culture scoffs at...

so as I study ancient texts,watch the skies and manifest...I understand the subtle workings of the universe

and am steadfast

that its all out of my hands.

fuck im doin talkin bout pineal glands
ancient ways of sumerians
aint nothin wrong with a righteous man

thats why I had to write this man

too,

I guess you can call me soul brother number

trace.

WOOOP

Friday, October 5, 2012

A note: Dr.William S. Bonnie

I'd like to get on here and bitch about how "bitches" fuck up my shit.
I aint gon' do dat.
I'd like to sit on here and complain about how the government rapes my dreams
& my checks
& my brothers freedom.
but...I AINT GON' DO DAT.
I'd like to name names on all these dames I been given fame with "hers" & "shes"
not that many people read this
sheesh
BUT IM CERTAINLY NOT GOING TO DO THAT.
IN FACT
I'm not gonna do much...besides fumble threw mumbled untyped words
that pour from my pores like a leaky faucet
untapped resources
like having my score rearranged at the end of the game
just so I can win by more.
lose by less...fuck
its all about perspective.
assumptions,
eclectic persumptions due to race
creed
religon
or color...fuck sometimes pre conceptions from your mother
father
auntie
uncle
simply because you assumed LOVE
LIFE
POETRY...was so easy

its so hard.

to wake up without a support net in the world...

to not bitch or moan about it outloud.

to not mention names...but make sure that dagger goes straight into one of their main arteries

strange...I wish it wasnt this way,

babe.

all 3 women whom I love and write to daily

THINGS GET CRAZY

when you cant remember a few years & dont have a care in the world

and most of the people you love most dont have a cohesive thought in their head

or are 3000 miles from your current location.

I used to try to make my vocation vacation

now I just try to stay sane

but no blame.

this is strictly an act by my own brain...

a beautiful misplay

on how to live

day

by

day.




your smile is my crown of thornes




FIRST $NOW

it was the disappointment
an appointment for coitus/a series of texts
I got the message
more so,I was disappointed by her intellect
(*lack there of)
above and beyond what I thought was a feeling so strong
was that overwhelming desire to not give a
fuck.
even threw first snow
as I smoked bowl
after bowl
after
bowl
I stroked my beard & observed as weak birds fell
dead
ironic how fall had become winter yet again
losing their battle with early season winds
this is the thought in my head/
a slow and intimate morning,steam churning from my lungs
bread became toast as I needed something more then substance
substantial,sustained
love
a rather laughable thing to want.
yet,here I pray...
day to day
Its so easy to be loud
so painful to be quiet
underneath quilts are these open eyelids
rather dry from trying to strain out tears
so here I lay
self loathing narcissist with predictable tendencies and razor sharp wit
alone in my infancy, a mere child in the grand scheme of it
all in all these walls will hold my fears
but theres none in my heart

so the four winds act as a paintbrush

my eyes=a kaleidoscope

in the grand scheme of it all...what has been done

is

done.

and I float aimlessly on this rock threw out the cosmos



Wednesday, October 3, 2012

in attempts to become a fortress

I write better with a damp bed and a passed out broad to my left
smoldering cannibus on the night stand
her snores chorus the morning between the birds chirping
my hangover is a signal to the worrisome nature of folklore and fable
at this table is a place set for you,
id take more then a bullet to prove thats true
but Im too nice to be crucified.
she wants someone to treat her like shit,
talk down to her
ignore her for a few days so she can really experience the world
(?)
or have somthing to bitch about with her high class friends.
shes addicted to drama,
and feeling like shit.
its evident when she gets mad for me telling it like it is
its a hard life when you act like a spoiled bitch
but who am I to judge...shit...just let me eat my oxy contin and dip
keep chewing on other clitorises until you realize what could have
been..
its been a grip since ive wrote relentless sentences
spinning wisdom intermittently like a wizard from a separate dimension
it keeps me fidgeting,scribbling words on napkins
pensively searching the stars for answers.

I know one thing though...

I need a rich girl like I need another hole in my head

AND IF YOU WANT SOME ONE TO TREAT YOU RIGHT

dont let them sleep in your bed




the worst part is...there's still a portrait of you anytime I close my eyelids.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

(888888888)

my love is existential,penciled in between lines of your laughter
martinis rapture as divine intervention calls us cabs home
shes blown,marching dust & yerba matte has us both in the zone
miles become moments on the highway of trust.
we cover a large circumference before the sun shows
loads are lifted off of shoulders when the moon glows
we roll under covers until the buzz slows
she sleeps for years...I toss and turn
fumbling threw words in the early morning to accurately describe the night before
and why time fluctuates so.
she steps on toes if she wants to
though
my pain threshold is above and beyond a normal one
the bite marks on my body are a signal to this
my little vampires all blissed out
lying like she is cromatose.
and the suns pumps its rays inbetween the slits in the blinds
my minds eye is connected to hers
if only for a little while.
its odd how things go
how feelings can grow
even if they existed from ignition,its delightful to be confirmed.
so now
as the world turns
I'm elated to learn our feelings twirl
like a cyclone decimating small farming communities in southwestern Missouri.



dam u str8 bby grl

I know you read this.
timid ramblings of a cosmic infant.
I don't know if you can connect all these dots...
even as these storms collage upon the front range...I believe in us
like a typhoon belives in pain.
I lust for trust in a day & age of busted guts for mindless fucks
monitary funds thrusted about as if there was no sun
no fun for trustafarian hum-bum's from bum fuck
with dreams of tummy tucks & humboldt zones
in the middle of IOWA...for slipknots are the noose that binds.
clones of a modern dosage...three microdots short of a high voltage over dose
only in hopes to see other worlds.
but your lost...fuck it...I'am too...you claim to love me with your body
but what about your soul?
nose goes on the next mindless voyage...I hope your sleep isnt somthing you toy with
because I could be the boy of your dreams if your awake enough to see me
glorified addict who dares of being lost over seas,with someone as beautiful as
thee.
treat me to reasons you'd still choose him,not that it matters
because real men arent concerned by children
even if he has dividends he probally cant work a .357
or is probally still concered about heaven
hell,
I inhabit it.
I cant promise endless prom nights with horse drawn carriages
because I have no care about monitary aspirations
nor comparisons
fair is fair,in these eyes,and Im careless by trade
I say what I say
so the only one to blaim for hearbreaks or vacays
can all be directed my way for the next few days
Ill have you screaming mayday as I play in your place
"your poems get randomly erotic"
as you'd say.

well darlin,I tend to do things my own way.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

experience

she questioned if I had a college education
I asked if she was experienced
we made love for a few weeks
then she disappeared
so here is me,fumbling threw readings
wondering what I could have done to make her love me
but Ive never controlled anything
so its nothing new
old news for a heavy heart so black and blue.
It came like scripture
like a whistle from underneath every thistle of this mustache
every morsel of my laugh interacted with the feeling of stoic backlash
...back handed comments ALWAYS accompanied by a wave of hand
Am I accomplishing nothing...simply by standing pat
clear in the rear view is my view on time & intellectual patten
ill snatch that up,rehash it,and never mention the adaptation
closely intertwined with the thoughts in our mind
I find elation in grabbing my surf board and riding the brain waves
creation theorist with a heart of gold,who sold out to be apart of somthing more
a universe which bestows every wish you could grow...so on and so forth
self loathing narcissist who dips and dodges court
affordable to do art at cheap costs...or simply for love
feelings bubble up and tumble over
lust is pro rated and sports rough and tumbles
mumble core fashioned fascist with a taste for louie belts and high speed crashes
downing mimosas with high grade amphetamines and splashes of clarity
compare me to inconceivable delinquents with a taste for devilish
fever...suck it dry until their skulls seperate like conffetti
and their brains are slurped up like spagetti
we are the all seeing
the dreamers of deameaning speechless reason
set in stone seasons
which blow over and seep in
every fractured bone is a literal road I fumble down

each moment is treasured

and Im getting older now.

Friday, September 21, 2012

studies

there was a sewer in her eyes
industrial light as the miasma hugged the skyline
our souls have been asleep for sometime
spires collided with the geometric shapes in our spines
wine was sipped as the city shifted
relentless tremors brought sentences with spin
she thought she was in my head
I knew I was in hers
first world problems
last ditch solutions,pollution threw putrid development
a stint in rehab for the absolute fuck of it

earlier in the timeline:

there was a pool in her eyes
casino lights as the mimosa hugged her lip line
our souls haven't slept in sometime
fires collided with the rudimentary pipes that we hit
lips were roasted as priorities shifted
nights glisten as we piss glitter
she thought she would never dip so far in
I thought it had been a grip since I had lived in reprehensible sin
first world solutions
go for broke efforts,stepping up to the plate and giving in

every end has a beginning

recoil

I wish I could be vain
complain about the day to day
make wages be my main focus
& quit day dreaming.
I wish I wasn't so insane
so rare minded and strange
so open and vulnerable
so much so I get mistaken for someone with no heart
or testicles
these festival dwellers are caught up in the nose goes
burned out frontal lobe
coast boast
absolute joke...fear and loathing on a roller coaster of
deviated septum's and half collapsed lungs
strung out spun-ions without a peon of thought
eons Ive fought for visions to be sought like loot
proof that we choose the noose that binds
our minds to
a universe filled with divine truth
my minds tooth is sharpened and bites
at night I ride and fight
under the city lights as my strides become wide
I suddenly feel as alive
as I did as a child.

my rifle is this pen

I am a solider wading the tide,biding my time to fully open my mind
to the paradigm that

I

am.

a beautiful spectrum,I recollect.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

I want to spend all my time with you
is that to much to ask?
I love the way you look at me
I absolutley adore listening to your laugh...
even after all of the crass sentences I drop in high end
relentless,rent less fashion
you put me on blast with the bat of your eyelids.
I maybe brash
but its passion mixed with talent
and an overwhelming sense that I can accomplish any thing
that can be dreamnt.
you are the exclimation point to my long wordy paragraph
a beautiful reminder that I can take deep breaths
my few lines short of an epitaph
i see in geometric patterns
rudimentary shapes
youve claimed stake on this fragile heart
so quietly Ill wait as your life turns
keep summing up evenings and making love to other girls
until that moment when
you can confirm my suspicion...that our love is so deep
its rarely ever mentioned

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

NO MEDIUM

i found something haunting about the halls we wandered down
I also found it disturbing I had nothing but lust for knowledge
& her smile as she looked down...
those delicate soft-words that are so intimate it leaves me snot-nosed
like I was still on hostel cots in Ohio
drinking mimosas and railing
molly cut with white girl.
fall came heavy this week
steady pension got me dippin and dodgeing
"like let ya keys speak"
but these kids got a washed up concept of slang these d's
me
I got a spanged up vessel on a pirate mission street sweep
witches on brooms sippin cauldrons like it was sleepy time tea
trippin on these kids who only see THINGS
because I see the inner working of SPACE
time
oblivion
equal to spending your life chasing divedends
fillers only pour so much in
so many feels I cant hold all of them
fuck it
ill let the night win,as of now I live in reprehensible sin
deplorable conditions
and worst of all
i still find it hard to not live life like folk lore
or modern art
all concepts
NO MEDIUM.

-_______________-

a crane landed on my shoulder
she whispered
heart ache is in the eye of the beholder
I lowered my heavy brain...
mostly in hopes the pain would go away
as I watched my lover dig around in my chest cavity.
I would have never at that moment known what she had planned for me
nor will either of us ever fully grasp the gravity;
of the day she never came back to me
no goodbyes...no anything...
and she lives down the street

-___________-


I see her bite marks on my chest every
morning
fore warning or fair warning
it seems
learning is such a deemeaning process
like meditating threw bombing raids.
its been some days,
some ones I really didnt deserve.
some pain Ive endured that ive never even thought
about causing.
but every sunrise is just as beautiful as the last one
and every sunset is filled with laughter and dance
I thought about pausing this runaway train called life
but goonies never say die.
eye for an eye
the universe decides
as for I
im off to separate dimensions
not as so desperate for attention
as I seem to
be.


Monday, September 10, 2012

I wanted to write about life today...Better yet I wanted it to put it in a way that wasn't painful...tie all my words to little weather balloons and let them dangle in the troposphere. In the city of angles there's more then fear to accumulate...like geometric patterns...a taste of the stars lips,a quivering question to a chatter box with none of the answers...only anti matter...such a strain on your bladder. I clammer for facts,batter and ram like I was on the verge of emotional collapse...this very well could have been a catastrophe...but I'm off topic...see the logic to my madness is that i'm a madman for dividends and its a blast for me to spin sentences relentlessly...it is one of my many gifts. This is so narcissistic...it seems like im only interested in big business and its inner workings...not for any monetary figures...simply because its an entity worth infiltrating in a non traditional scheme...reams of paper,40 blank shirts and a days worth of smoke will get me up and over the cross road//railroad///hell hole,no more dreaming...no...this is reality,biting the flesh off of the entire front side of me...the guiding force that ive needed...the reason I constantly eat BUT AM SO HUNGRY. I need your lunch money,ill trade you collectibles for it,while smelling like the reminisce of cannibus...and as your brain cease and desists...deceit with my lips as I grimace and my spit is filled with piss...so grimy and witty its slimy and gritty...shit...back to the city to do my bidding...taking bid,placing bets on how far Ill get...in retrospect it was shit on how far it is...from a single notion of claw marks across a grey lense...a sawtooth to put it with...she saw sewed up lips with candle sticks behind them...illuminating every thing shed think...oh she was beautiful that way...until her brain decimated...and im partly to blame...you introduce death to children they take it as a game...i took it as a sentence...i wanted to never see anyone again...i wanted to bite off my fingerprints and let the blood mix with the water of my bathtub as I laid naked staring at the wall...this was my time to give in...just like it was his...oh justin...but now its years later after this...and the scars on my finger tips are just as visible...and I still have residual visuals of times I can barely recollect..and i still have the pains in the morning that will never let me forget...the reason I can barely put on weight...barely keep food down...oh but its all the same...were just washing the dust our bodys and going at it again...my anxiety tears threw my eyelids and forces smiles but I know what is mine...what I deserve...what I LIKE. that creeping feeling up your spine that lets you know your alive...my god,i paid an old asian broad 30 dollars for an oriental massage...she used all her body weight and still couldent settle the grudge...fudge...back like a relapse...ol doc bonnies up to his hash and stash habits...eclectic son of a bitch on a money making rampage...shit...it seems like my reign is only days away.

LONG IN THE TRUTH

PREACH!

whole town mad at me
fuck it
I am glad to be
greasy,gettin skeezy with that steezy-deezy
managing
the whole pounds gravity...rolled up and Im proud to be
chill-en like a villain troped out like it needs to be

REACH!

komboucha and a blunt hun
\
SPEAK...

align your fuckin mind son!



>It came like scripture
like a whistle from underneath every thistle of this mustache
every morsel of my laugh interacted with the feeling of stoic backlash
...back handed comments ALWAYS accompanied by a wave of hand
Am I accomplishing nothing...simply by standing pat
clear in the rear view is my view on time & intellectual patten
ill snatch that up,rehash it,and never mention the adaptation
closely intertwined with the thoughts in our mind
I find elation in grabbing my surf board and riding the brain waves
creation theorist with a heart of gold,who sold out to be apart of somthing more
a universe which bestows every wish you could grow...so on and so forth
self loathing narcissist who dips and dodges court
affordable to do art at cheap costs...or simply for love
feelings bubble up and tumble over


< nightmares to realities dreamers turn to casualties started with a mistress ended with a family whole planet down with me, function as a human being composed of robotic circutry fuck it,I am clammering these damaging, fathomed fantasy facades over 40s (but thats how i like these broads) she looked over and whispered there is no "GOD" I whispered too there is no "Loot" SO WE DO WHAT WE DO'S ?>

leap!

faith kind of damaged me

weep!

a master of the phantom speech

"she impostures her doctrine as if it some how responsible for sofeting the blow" I looked her deep in the heart and said "NO." This isnt the century for this...better yet our synergy is inept,and quite frankly Im running out of breath...Ive wasted so much on our love that It makes me question my realities truths...but

again

Im simply getting long in the tooth.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

sad..."well aint that a bitch."

when the words don't come
and we wear the same clothes for days.
when this cigarette is done
I shall be on display
to a life I could have never imagined to be mine
fine wine & cannibus every night
a different bed
with a diffrent smile
to wake up to each sunrise.
this is my love
and its ending one minute at a time.
this is my struggle
ever so divine.
aligned, with
spinal chord full of wisdom
inline with pineal gland as it glistens
pension is the only reason im pensive
making dividends off the words I spin
(ha,good joke)
awoke in a coma to count my blasphomeys
with this media obsessed culture
brand name duopoly facade
a pile of manure so rudimentary and lurid
it causes my happy ass
to not give a
FUCK...simply to be at one with nature
one with my lover
one with the inner workings of things
THIS PLANET
my mother.
im featured in publications
media relations so far off the beaten stream
it leaves me in danger
of failure to a modern conviction...
my high school buddies/
ex girlfriends thinking.
but to make one souls life less fleeting with one word
means my entire momement on this earth
how ever fast that goes.
even after the sun supernovas
there will be remnince of this love
I touched
and felt
from this species who may have very well doomed it all.
but my god
some of us tried
and that alone makes me smile.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Triangles of the midwest

lets
kill a bottle of ta-kill-ya
lying butt naked sharing our
feelings...would ya..
could I really be this conscience
as silly as it sounds//its ever so modest
like the amount im smoking...OZs of weed
PounDs of hasish
peaceful & miildly sedated
stoic.
as driven as a race car is
gozzed.
raging lanes like the sentences I spit
loaded.
throw fits over it and
dip.
its been a grip...
and Ive become arrested by maturity.
nossles of prophetic word play rush over me
but no P.D will surmise me
hypnotize
hypothesize a surprising,hungry,confounded cyclone
who needs an I.V
about a year away from being instrumental in an uprising
IV times the man Im striving to be
drum major whom behaves bum fuck
savers
actin dum dum for flavor...I got dirt under these nails,
boy.

so I rarely do favors.

shes compiling beautiful speeches
a teacher teeming with glee in the way that she leads
saintly in the way she bleeds/
meek delicate letters aligned and in symmetry
a symphony!
a wolf howl amongst bones and broken down palaces
Id sleep with her at the cemetary every night
if need be
for now I sleep sweet with my calices
underneath an open window draped by a sheer flag meant to burnout the
sunrise on the couch
threw the empty mickeys and jimmy bottles
the reasons we feel like we might
go sober.
smoken cigarettes and smoldering
dojah
motah
more approprite for the neighborhood

I find it cute that she dosent know shes my muse.

I keep my heart loaded to enduce truths
the arouma of hardwork is on my clothes
were both loners
whove found each other in this big world
our little hearts
the simple reasons were modest
hard working
humble
positive and lost in thought.
she is what I am,and I love her for that
we are what we both cant be
and were in love because of that.
but love cant always be a fact
theres so many traps along the way
so many days where its to early
or to late.
so many nights where I want to grab her passionatly and scream
lets take it second by second
every day
until were left with nothing but each others smiles
& scents.
she isnt my world...but shes damn near close
and Id give the world to be that damn close.

and I saw you,amongst the geometric patterns
the triangles of the midwest as they filled the sky

Its...just taken me some time to meditate

let YOU love who YOU need too

so I apologize...

...& I am filled with the passion of one million exploding suns

cotorized

you illuminate my soul in this dark time.







Sunday, September 2, 2012

They kept saying
"Andrew...come home...there's nothing for you out there in that big world.."
then she came
and I did too
then we moved in together and fucked that up too.
after that I got blasted and rapped and scratched the surface for passion
all I found was facebook friends and
Valium.
fuckin rad.
after that was
acid,
cross country madness with sewer kids who have big business mentality's
just cant be on paper to turn these realities into facilities
better yet factions
trashy tribes unaware of the outcome...of being a Hodge podge trashcan junkie
spunky bunky is what my mother would don me
especially as we sipped Schaffleys on the mighty Mississippi
showered by the ease of never letting it all slip away.
pain and how it gets that way... it can lead to golden shores and trust in family
even if its created
strange
thats why I AM THIS WAY
never known LOVE in the right way
the long days churn
a passion burns deep in my heart
its to share my art with each
ear
and every
brainwave.

all alone

DEAD BROKE
"now...who the fuck smokes?"
watching spokes coast/juxtapose
to be come toasts of an "underworld"
I suppose
it takes witty grit/grimey rhyme schemes
slimy tactics that burns deep in your divine being
little hope has broken noses in quests of fame bouts
solid low lives who sold out for dope/soiled mouths
so much fear in their heart it stains clouds
quotes come to mind that could redirect clout
if its worth it,then redefine the reasons to worship
fore score & false gods who drive souped up porsches
give me porches
and pounds of grand daddy purps chopped into onions
Ive been in a zone...known to cause minds to bow
bend space time and ghost into an overture
sure
I can see it for what it is...a fleeting flash in the pan
young-ins catching every road stop from here to Thailand
focused on twilight,when the solar flares scorch the sand
I might
be quite desired in my slides of hand...a dapper man...with cannons snotnosed
fashion blasted with copious stashes tho
that single individuals out for stove runs
pirate missions
keeps a trigger focused on dividends
lest I go on...
a slow jam...one that encompasses a full band...every instrument in step with its brethren
every breath directed for one instance
a single mission to kiss the hands of the GOD in all of us

wisdom...instrumental in all outcomes...

big business in this land controlled by big business for the betterment of the man...but fuck men

women

& especially children

they'll have hell to deal with...thanks to industrialism

capitalism

and the general consensus

"who gives a shit?"

lets argue and piss over trivial ends to our means...feeding children with modified beef...filling their cereal with glass and explosives

kill,

that's all they need to know...the next generation of soliders on a come up

not individuals who chose to take lives,
they just want someone to pay for college.

above & over the great wall of knowledge

is understanding

being positive

humble

& confident.

side B:

San pallegrino...my aphrodisiac...shes smiles...yet her intentions are Rorschach.
Fat stash of hash had me stacked to the moon,
cool buffoons aloof..rollin blunts the size of racoons
at the "cocoon" we matched the aroma of mot-ah with our B.O
and our B.T.O kept the wax a bub...we needed to chromotose
splice,dice and add chromosones
possibly even put us in a coma...thats how it goes...
our insides were blossoming,
this was no tomb.
we had become living proff that you can do whatever you want to do
as long as you just do it.
it gets corse...but eventually will flow like fluid
lucidly dreaming,seeming as if this madvillan would win
then spin doom
I deliver reason,feeling each moment bloom
vroom
shoot down the run way
the keep it raw like wrestling on monday
fuck spanging,
id rather,hussle,muscle or split divedends for gunplay
wrong WAY
right WAY

FUCK THAT I NEED TO GET PAID.

enligthened

I WILL BECOME ONE OF THE GREATS...I wont candy stripe words to make the mental images more bareable

Ill straight up demean,torture and rape...the space inbetween each verb

to zeniths you couldent imagine...lurid & perturbed

I'am elated by each word

because

it

is

my

own.


sayonara

I aint got no fuckin friends
only brothers,partners &
women
some sisters...most of them one night glances
that become stanzas in my next one.
fathom me being a phantom
ghost on either coasts for income
slander my good name in hopes of a better one
mouth comparable to a Gatling gun
fresh to death
zombie club
years spun so I still talk like I'am GOD
dump & run...squak like I parlayed
then went yak on a knuckle ball.
sippin yak while Im steaming blunts
blue dreaming about reason & logic like I was Mr.Spock
spooky,how shocking it is to me to that I keep it 100
% organic,no bi-products...so rough and tumble
I rumble threw city streets,armed with nothing but 40z and stories
mumble glory from the fourth story
wake up on the floor still high from the brownies I ate the night before
warning.
Im afraid im getting used to this...more so...I think Im getting pissed
hungry like an rhinoceros in the final days of the apocalypse
I have spit nothing but relentless sentences
in hopes that it ministers to these kids who only worship dividends
my lymbic system is aligned with my pineal gland
and the bumblebees fill the blue skys until the sun is dimmed
and we huddle close as the planet burns.

now on to other worlds

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

$$$$


beautiful human error
mirrored lives of pharaohs/scarecrows in a modern satire
senses tingled by the marrow and hair particles on my attire
the memories of sunlight that flood my film reel recollection
to a time when I loved relentless...a time when you spoke of soft questions
nussling your soul deep in me
and I in thee...inbetween the paradox I out foxed your sorrowful heart
to love a rich girl takes delicate words
elegant thoughts
a hell of a good plan to let her taste the grimey world you bathe in
but never be baptized in it
let life fall apart and reglaze
refit/reform
For me it takes grit,to bite the bullet on how far I've come
some peoples best friends get hit by cars
others die inside of them.
often times Ive wondered if I was a gift to humanity
or if exsistence was to me,what I belived I was to it
the latter seems more fitting.
as I sit upon mount olympis in my head
I wander about the stars in every breathe
my brothers break bread
around blunt fire we recollect
respect the heros who have passed
test the water//inspect the words
ghost...jet...gag orders.
ride,write and smile bitter...veins like winter
dismember foes because it is what it is
and its come to this
tremble...because these moments are going super nova
birth of a new galaxy,and I am the nebula
how much does it cost a soul
for a glimpse into black holes

Monday, August 27, 2012

NON

Rent night
hairy potheads picked a plight with tiger-crane style
"should of seen the other guy....sonofabitch lost an eye"
stove top missions got blanked out till winter smiled
fame and fortune is torture to those in denial
even our scouts were down to die over doubts
devout hoods in & out of do-jo's
no ceilings....you could here em wilin for hours at night,,,
reeking havoc on factions from Pompey to Tuskegee
hell to pay was their belief //that's what it was seeming
preaching demons to legions (verbatim) "lets keep peace threw all seasons!"
I am Zeus to this Olympias
my opus is extensive
it serves,at this time,an unknown purpose
no gimmicks
no censorship
no limits
major dividends funnled like canals and rivers
carving new valleys bleeding entrepreneurship
they flow into a vibrant metropolis
it is my mind
a triangle offense
a technicolor landslide of tribal,complex & rudimentery
etchings of open eyes
piles of words all avalible for demise
denial?
no...I sip the rain
snort the boulders of each canyon
control my pyroclastic flow
the universe is my companion
the underground is my habitat
my habits & contradictions contract within her vision
but this isnt one of those poems where I mention it
no
this is dirty diarrhea plague type vomit
squashing problems that never deseved logic
baseball bats that turn assault into parapalegics
the type of words that cause amnesia and make you have that sick feeling
quellings disbelievers since
GOD
KNOWS
WHEN
and its time well spent...thrashed out...passanger seat of a benz
86'
but shit...pocket full of stones...mouth full of buisness.
STOP SIMPIN


Monday, August 13, 2012

1.

I,

art-deco architecture,fetch-in a single word. More so, wretched & a foot,bushwa:lude.
smooth wrist bones broken at the disco.
you know,
she does too.
this world will be all right without either of you.
you'll be lucky not to be trampled on,danced over,
glances lowered.
for its not in the way you pray
its what you do day to day that makes you a saint.
with my eyes closed,I see in splattered paint
baptize myself in the rain
understanding the meaning of life is
courage & strength

II:

but I dont live anywhere
here is not a lair
it is a patio...with shrubs,overcast skies and espresso.
Humbums,who have a say no more...
for often times...I am too loyal.
Spoils of war is the knowledge bestowed,
oh
its a landslide though.
this is an ode to the beautiful barista girl, the one with the button nose,curly hair and no make up

the one whos smiling at me,and has no idea Im writing to her.

III:

I drive aimlessly around the front range...
taking pulls off my cannibus pipe
accompanied by the sounds of "naked city"
I feel rather alive.
Inside,is a heart which races
my brain has facial recognition software
and Im tasteless.
morally raped,I continue this stale mate with my emotions
the comotion signals a devoition to substances
& producing blues.
summers lonely rules.
To think,at one time I had so much love to lose, funny how the world turns...

IV:

giant steps to little places
all I asked for was a room with a veiw.



Sunday, August 12, 2012

my opened eyes

"I got to go to Dallas!"
said my former lover from the suburbs
the ones I grew up in
the ones that were 30 minutes away from Kennedy's final breathes
an X marking the drive we used to take
smoking blunts the whole way.
The good ol' days,
or before people started dying,
anyway...
I thought about what she said,the excitment falling out of her head
A thirty minute trip to the big city...where there is homeless
and much prettier humans then the ones in Haltom.
I used to wake up in different cities...big ones too
underneath underpasses in Baltimore,
Atlanta...not that this made me cool,
just added perspective to what it is I do.
loose lips sink ships,and Im in the buisness of telling how it is
spinning words into sentences
paragraphs,
chapters...
end to end.
in ceartin instances I feel wrong about this grave ive dug
the one that forces me to meet new loved ones
to cherish older ones
lumber threw corridors wording every move
even if my family fear my doom
its still nice to be the quietest in the room
to loop instances in and out of your dome
find the reason you roam
then zoom
get into your zone
and grow into the ONE
that YOU have always hoped to
become.
"Thats beautiful!"
I said
I hope your time was spent with your heart in your hand,showing the big world you still
havent given in...reproving to your self that you can be all you
can
be.
she slid her hand up the backside of me,twisting my hair tightly
grasping my arms,which in her hands
resembled pillars of ivory
and inside of me I felt a quiet party
this heart
my mind
aligned and coinciding
we shine OUR light
guiding each others next moves.
she is GOD
I am too.
Ironically,so are
you.
loose lips drink gin,lovely...especially on these sunny afternoons...
oh how I could spend an eternity inside of you...
oops,
beside...besides
in this life we're meant to
lose.
but to my open eyes...

bees in the trap

a string of conscience i inherited
had me farising,
more deadly than a hippopotamus
crushing a larynx.
laryngeal vibrations were derelict
scarce were the thoughts in this head
even on warm sunny days
wars beg for make shift graves.
her legs open for play dates
a late night fate,for yours truly
unruly waves on the lake hint to storms making there way over the front range,
a lurid sunset hinted to me to waste my wages
on wagers & fate
faith in the everlasting flow,and the way things play
out & about I felt my soul grow
with every word
spoken.
dates became clones & my mind was a ghost
boasting about being roasted during toasts to the underworld
swarms of emotion stung every moment
bees in the trap
life is but a coma.
word is bond
these nights are long
when all you own
is a bag of clothes
a full tank of gas...few road maps
backpack full of random work
heavy head stash.
stories are often times wrong
retold by those who aren't I
but
perception is reality so that fight is fleeting
the night is sinking into MY
memory
the feeling in this old body is reacting strongly to this steez
a few trees later,we will be dining on fried aligator
encompassing the moon with our own glow.
letting the smoke rings skip across the bayou
this world is your home,so never feel alone
however hopeless
LOVE.


Saturday, August 11, 2012

an ode

the dirt in these fingernails is a signal that ive set sail from a normal world
lord help me have the courage to disembowel my foes
sew my own clothes
live in trenches with battalions of like minded souls...not in it for the gold.
in it to be molded,
recreated
sip from the cup of fate and be elated
because we're all doomed....simply the sad truth...
progression threw defeat
defeated by victory
the moral compass of deceit.
the limits inside of us are created solely by our minds
I find in times of great desperation
my spine becomes diamonds,and my eyes sprout eyes
defining the cosmic analogies
blind
binding tides rise & shape the days which follow
I glide...I can taste the entire world
so I swallow every ounce of pride
and realize
I am LIGHT



Monday, August 6, 2012

c'est la vie

words drip like whiskey off these young lips
small quips keep these ghosts off my dick
zips get R.I.P.-ped up,like generic scripts
but you can blow a zone if need be
it is what it is.
we keep,in and off of lists
my spirit animals a lion
and I have nothing more to say when it comes to this
in a moment every wish I know
will be granted and cloned
doubled by the output of my energy
sealed
peeling back the layers from my clothes
you will see the battle scars I don
for ZION
my eyes are on
life is but nothing more then a beautiful coast
if you do the right things and say the right words
sure you could die tomorrow
but their are other worlds
other bodies much like ours
for your soul to encompass
to question
to recharge.
because its hard out here
especially with limitless potential
infenite credentials
if need be
just look deep
and question everything
then you shall seek
sleep
weep
because it is the most beautiful process youve ever seen
clean minded
gold hearted
clean starts and coup de ta's

D E X T H

I thrive on these overcast days...the weight of the world is washed away
in many ways I wish that she was mine,I was hers,because the world is
ours
so common while pusillanimously obscure
the soul of the earth is in her songs...in her bones more so
even as the seasons turn I see reason being the lesions upon my brow
cowardly as it sounds,I will back down,because logic dictates mouth
how could one be so loud in the hour of their down fall
crucified to the rudimentary sound
barking out orders as their vessel goes down...
Smaller ships sail from wreckage
& that funny feeling is a signal that the timing is acceptable
yet in every step is a timid retrogold
life lessons
my very essence.
bold sights to behold.
scroll the globe in search of hope
& by GOD you shall find it
and if you act saintly,it shall be found delightful
but remember a rose and a rifle
one has a natrual defense
the other just needs someone to hold it
:(

Sunday, August 5, 2012

once...

In rare form
reform is porn to the modern minded beautician
fixtures of a system based on capitalisim
luxury for absent minded individuals
billonaires scared to move an inch
which is why we're in the ditches
inching towards the trenchs
with missles in our blood vessels
chests broken,minds opened
still... millios ride the psychadellic elephent
pepperminted speech because their manifesting a love in
god damnit how could we be so selfish
we need anger in this year
I fear
never being precious
again

redone

I rummaged threw my back pack,
in between the cash & random maps
condoms & a half-smoked stash I had acquired at last nights bout with the "rear inn"
in the checker printed slab I found scribbled lines of poetry on some napkins-strewn
like bodies in an opium den after copious amounts of coitus,
"slip it in"
that's all they read.
like a shot to the head...the butterflies in my stomach suddenly dropped dead
reminiscent of a death row inmate being led to his bed
no more words were tred.
shot glasses clinked like marbles..and our napkins had rings worn threw
I've fallen into my Arnold Palmer's
again
Jacks helping hand...the whole gangs here...Johnnie
Jim.
smoke billows slowly off the tip of every word
it rumbles thunderous jolts of repoor..over the horn strokes
ivory scorn.
lord knows she loves the danger inside of me.
pays dues.
no rent
but the space is used so its time well spent.
her soul brings out a better side of me.
squatting is such a retaliative term,in this here
the undernourished/lurid bushwa we don superb
loose visions keeps my emotions in line with my nerves
riding the waves of periodic fissures to my pineal gland
wishes granted in deplorable sin
every limb trembles,as these relentless sentences drop like thimbles
pistols dancing wildly to the sound of deafening arrogance
but such is the scheme of it.
my lover and I dance the moonlight awake.
she whispers:"As a sesquipedalian stylist, you throw words like 'eponymous" into a sentence without missing a beat"
this mere sentence got me in heat
I rose to my feet,in the mid morning sneak
took to the streets in proclamation that I had tasted DEFEAT
the sweet subtle nuisances
amongst the copses
but I yell"Brother,are we free!?"
as we wait at the red light he looks around and thinks
"I do believe so.."
then why must we wait for the green.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

scat

I felt like a drunk,for lack of a better world...I squirmed threw the insulin riddled bodies,spilling their hoddie titties,planning coffee with some cock sucker who has never really ever breathed before. NO,this is a new age...one filled with stigmas and taboos meant to be shit upon before being thrust outward...fixed gear twisty mustaches with espresso filling the cavernous corridors...a horror story to most,but the daily life of yours truly (Americas favorite omnivore) I stumbled into a cinema in a torrential down pour,I prayed the power would go out so I could sit soundly and bored. Hoards of school children came in to the dark theatre at various points...their first taste of sin...paying for one movie,and seeing them all...the glory of being a jack of all trades,the master of none. I feel like a bastard son,except my father and I are on quite pleasant speaking terms,in other words,I don't agree with his verbs. Lord have mercy,Ive been thirsty for relevance and poetry since I was protozoa...I sift threw comas,I mean thats what it seems like sometimes...gentle jazz in the back ground,the pitter patter of my finger tips with my head blind...Id write if I never get paid,and I dont get paid anyway,so I drink my paycheck away,but I dont make much so I cant afford rent these days...but thats not a problem,because I feel sane,the little voice in my head who laughs cause I aint dead...yet.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

"i'll have what she's having."

free will
in this void and still
galactic vapors fill pineal glands
drastically altering beliefs and stance
at a glace...the case could be made I had given in
in my hands...a wilted chrysanthemum
on my lips,
a vast ocean of lavish tactical assessments
all decadent & full of passion
traps scattered like caverns
disco ball window fragments
lit up heirlooms that crackled like magma
our stance became narrow & careless
souls lay in peril
feral beasts of this magnificent wasteland
I watched flocks of sparrows get torn threw wormholes
and lesser men simply wash their hands.
carols of old ghosts in unison
folded up documents boasting in an open coffin
yet I still find peace in terror decimating the land
the grand scheme of things
a narrow minded assessment
"I'll have what she's having"


Tuesday, July 31, 2012

I said "what are you going to do for the rest of the night"
"die" he smiled,
he had THAT look in his eyes.
head cocked to the side he twitches and rubs on his temples
"but if your dead" I said as I stood up
"whats the fear in your heart from?" deshevled, he indulged on another edible
scribbled the next portion of his manifesto
looked into my soul and gloats
"love."

stay face/keep sane

I want to become a better writer
more so
a bigger man...
a raging fire burns inside of me
I prey it never harnesses the wind
theories of ignition from a slight of hand
lighter clicks fissure with a sizable syllabus
here we are reprimanded
retroactive content
radioactive soul alighnments
its like we never wanted this
and the whole universe has been up ended
and our mother is gagging
she has an oil rig asphyxiation
millions of bullets she spits
the bones of her children in which she digests
and there is no rest
no single regrets
only tears
and more tests.
stay face/keep sane
whatever that means in this day and age
I only prey to live throughtout the day
so I can come home
and claim some space between your legs.

009

the cold ambiguous letters read like sand-script,
for lack of better a world
weather blew feathers & coal out of my cerebral flow
it molded my feeble mind
my delicate soul...as if I could spurn.
a mind so spun out of control...
broken down palace/find strength in her warmth
forms I filmed
lessons I learned
the way the rain pitter pats on the hull of this automobile as it hugs each turn
I feel its pistons jumping
and rumbling
its an ignition to the night,an admission all right
a single syandide capsule under my left k9
eat
drink
and be merry
for tomorrow we die

Saturday, July 28, 2012

CAN I GET A WITNESS

i opened my world to the soul that is hers
moved about the cabin as if I had words
phoned to those I love
and drove all night,hugging the cliffs above.
on the road...
I met a witness who directed me to fenceless pastures
the gentle winds that captured my laughter
faster,
I whispered
as if every word was a blister
& this was my home.
I found hope in your eyes
the light you shine when you smile
the way you smell when its warm
this wonderful denial I have
due to suicide attempts
& mild hallucinations for months on end.
in various terms...
various lives...
the wormholes open and spill,in the dust clouds and word of mouths
the foul sight describes a wild love inside of her eyes...as our hot air balloon
twists
& turns
I think of more words to yell to her in the middle of this lightning storm
but her eyes
oh her eyes
they cut deep into my life
keeping me on my broken toes
if only to see the sun
that rises in her soul.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

lets keep writing

*defeated by victory
these cold eyes are no longer symmetry
grumbling falsettos from this stoic,"troubled teen"
(well adjusted adult/good credit scores)
drudge rep-or.
YET THERE WAS NOTHING BUT WAR.
the four corners of the universe begged for more
it orgasimed out hatred,
jealousy
& folklore.
and that lust ran like comfort over me
inside of her ovaries is a future I dream
threw meditation and various times of peace
on astral planes/in dimensions quite like these.
i see her blowing in the breeze
ever so delicately
my flower of the alley way...
the singular reason I breathe.
so childish
these ways we perceive
yet so enlightened
the things that we speak
tip toeing around each delicate syllable
still I beg
"ever more"
...and yes there are more words...
oh how I could write to you for centuries
but alas
amongst these bee stings
I speek geometrically
rudimentary
mouth full of blood
soul full of heat.


Saturday, July 21, 2012

drunk dials

my heart lay in Austin
it feels all a blossom
like a sunflower peeking its head threw the sidewalk of a white house
in winter.
I comfort like Ive never known loss
tis' a paradox
loving till it hurts.
yet,im caught
by the snare of the mile high sun,
my lovely slums
& this heart that always beats as a war drum...
threw the tiny amp set up
in the cellar of my loved ones.
once.
but night comes
dreams form
her eyes are intertwined with the purple night
she is the moon
I am the sun
I feel our time is Ouija board,spelling out countless words
with countless metaphors threw countless diminsions and time
but this may not be
OURS
so I grind
relentless,
and Im gudided by universal rhythms
& here is where your name comes to fruition
yet not a single word omitted.
because you are the vision
I couldent envision
but would give everything to prove
that all these women
beautiful as they may be
cant hold a single candle to YOU


ME?
I just spent some years farising
clarifying my derelict
paralyzing the simp in me.
terror rises in my dull regret
moments turned once I earned respect
and yet I cant even stand it without thinking


of truths

HAMMER OF THE GODS

I gave birth to an idea
the hint was to abort it
instead I cared for it
I only prayed that it'd be worth it.
years passed and questions ensued
always away...or on the side of blues
wandering this century
in search of hope & memories/
nose goes on pirate missions
this putrid symmetry.
I'm halfheartedly searching for the turth
but the truth is,my heart has held strong
and now Im hardheartedly searching for you
north west,north west,north west
mouth full of gold dublooms
these finger tips are my only ways of reaching you
but Id never let you know
WHO
truths...they come in many forms
several sizes
my eyes have eyes
and my soul shines diamonds.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

hert

Opium smoke billowed down the umbilical cord attached to MY white skull
...I just don't do drugs anymore,
and as all people have done drugs before know
this just means I'm not reliant on God nor a substance for love
so,of course,
I still partake...in diffrent mind states
I wade threw alley ways
waking up on roofs to the summers warm rain
faint cries to the humans starting their days
though my mind a waste,
not one single moment wasted,
I pace and claim to be tasteless
trace my steps while draped in faint explanations
fatal deprivation keeps my fables cradled
on the verge of being stable
& I just lose it all over again on the river card.

Im just waiting for her

c'est la vie





Sunday, July 15, 2012

old fucker

locked out of the inter dimensional zone due to lack of passwords
I found an intimate clone,with a nack for hard work
I saw God inside of him,he was playing poker and drinking mimosas with his son,a phantom
and their old buddy,belzibub.
handsome fellow.
while here,I felt disheveled..out of things to say until the night became level
and there I tumbled...until I felt our trinity stable
it bubbled,a feeling comprable to prenadel...
as my penal gland searches for a make shift k-hole
moonlight over came the sun
then the stars peppered over the mesa
into a cradle of stories,high morals and soft words
I melt,
reforming
for we all are doomed
but theirs beauty in each step of the storm.
as I sit on this roof I cant help but feel the warmth of the textures
the fixtures of bar flies attached to their liquors
the fixtures of yoga pants that get slimmer and slimmer
and dimmer my role seems to be , honestly
it means nothing in the grand scheme of things
as of late each pain has been strange
and none as hard as the moment she drove away
so here I await
somthing to further complicate the continus storyline that is my brain


Friday, July 13, 2012

G A R B A G E

"I pray you aren't eaten by wolves out here"
countless hours of staring compared
my heart drops to the feet of my chair
a cold glare carelessly dares me
folding up the newspaper,I check the time
leave my seat
the atom bombs rain like confetti atop this carefree street
I'm in heat.
I stop to court a pretty young thing
you are the bread,
I am the meat
our brains interlocked
she digs the beard
my little heart cant stop
mush mouth. black socks
more nights like these & I'll feel
OM
prolong that out
drop top cop,clip up and go solve doubts
down south
where I lay on couches
no showers
devouring my limits.
heavy fisted cause I eat my spinach
dig it?

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

before the super nova
we were mostly sober
now were dumpster diving to survive the apocolypse
somewhere in southern oklahoma
my lips are dripping liquid metal
im fed up on meddiling bumfuck tummy tucked stepfords
all hopped up on meds like rum and cola sheppards
f-words,a-bombs
calm,cool and collected
bombed,geeked out,arrested
seperate electives
yet maternal affetcions
next question

ugly

cute wounds,
new shoes
flew in early...
splitting loot
proving roofies lead to toothless
proof that rules roam into coos
then comas
no news is good news in a world with CEO spooks with high dollar aroma
blues been sneaking threw dark purple alleys in coups like their in the daytona
ive been in every pool,throwin bones like I majored in it in school
or I'am a padiwan of yoda.
fruitful come ups my labor got my wages tied up in wagers
and I aint shy to belt bust to settle
WOOPs,
yelling like day traders
play trumps and keep my knowledge plump
steadily obtaining paper
Im wildly aware when the trumpets bump
major reason why im heavily favored
summers halfway done...and I have barely seen the sun...or danger
only the slums...there...I seen the TRUTH...its as sharp as a saber
been a slave to your thoughts,like its a spell im under:
bought...
catered...
thunder and lightning on these hot july rain
signal to fireworks and rhythm sanctuarys
im weary
oh so tired
wired from all the coffee & rum
I wish to retire
have my attire be tailored
be favored by mayors
prostitutes &
bankers
disfavored by most,
though.
peel layers back until I reach each skeleton whole
fill the empty bones with hell & sin

if your a destroyer
I'AM THE DEVIL THEN.
if your an angel
I'AM A PROPHET...

drag the cigarette,around the lake we stroll.
null
void
thoughts are out of control
this data base is rebooting,
would you like a detailed evacuation of my soul?
young & old
gather round...before your eyes you'll reach a goal..
the power at the circus is almost out!
but before it is,
let me leave you
without doubt..
a mouth full of scripture
house full of victims
a milk shake full of random perscriptions
& my last written testament:
it begins...
to my paradox,I have seen the slaughtering feilds,the deranged and dark souls which patrol in the name of their guilds...and it is madness...to the soliders I fought ,I'll see thine conquests as a privelege that I caught bliss intimintaly before reality ultimatily bit...privliged,I see the doubt of casulties mimic,the exact courses the souls pivits...some of us loose faith in the wisdom...that dreaming is the key to succeeding

bleeding...being the second part.

but it is an art..this life I mean

it starts and ends with each and every thought we think

concience:the new chiq