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Tuesday, January 17, 2012


mad letters of recognition,
retrospect caught up in all general aspects of micro-scizzims
I respected the eclectic nature of the usual figures
picture planes bow where the rhinopolisis listens
down in these epicenters,
a gateway to the mild west
& into their tent cities.
a taste of this wild guess..
the countless analogies and drugs ingested..ha-ha come on man...
who hasn't done it...
Hunters dead...& no one did it quite like him.

but then again...everyone hasn't lived yet.


SPIRITUALIZE..see what comes from it..
you decide.
buckets of blood...barrels of babies...boxes of boxers...dogs or shorts..
deep snorts atop chests of drawers
a warlord sparring with his ghosts..
for being a whore is ,
at its core,
being at some weird peace with the world.
more and more i've become sore to the hordes of spores that attribute to pockets of strangers taming straight lips
quit wishing,kids...they all want short trips

I'm about that long one.

Thursday, January 12, 2012


I dreamed about a bombed out city with flowers in every crease and crevice
feathers on the lampposts in the middle of the metropolis
a fitting reminder to the intricacy of intellectual properties we let cromotose
devine intervention that brings us these seasons
this rock,which harbors our ghost.
peace omits from my being,some call it jesus
others allah or vishnu
I simply call it the faith in others,
chaos contained by structure in never ending vacuum in a space time continum,
but brothers
don't be fooled by forgiveness, and my trust in the art
I am,at heart
an animal
in every sense of the form.
my intentions are to be free
plain and simply
these invisible chains of your military industrial complex do not bind me
your consumerism propaganda orgys are things i have no thirst for
in other words
my intentions are pure,and my heart thirsts for one more
the open sky on top of a very similar road
post apocolyptic or any other various term
for at my core

b side

shacked up in a shipwreck 3000 miles inland
these emotions are bold,
new feet
thicker head.
spread eagle wings,
often times are not lead
its been said for moons
eons before spoken paragraphs
the best often times bite off more then they initially were fed...
at best,
these tattered clothes are the sentences I'm to proud to disclose
but know
those mornings on the cold ground were meant to bring hope
meditation on the daily lessons i'm shown
manifestation of a physical presence
now at peace
with the inner turmoil I felt grow.
oh to be old
and so
theres nothing more beautiful then invincibility

Tuesday, January 10, 2012


I hold the weight of heaven between these ears
my fear is the sirens call I hear so clear
so sweet.
recklessly truthful in my own deceit...If I have come with a broken heart/
then have I come with all I need?
or have I lost the only thing worth seeing//
to leave without a prize would sting these rainy eyes
divides of blues & whites
by nightfall,often times
I find...
mumbles/fumbling/and forming threw lumber of the forest as wind whips,whines & whispers... the leaves call bluffs
I harbor trust on a storm riddled ocean
just above...just above...just above those moments..
these pensive steps are intermediate in the grand scheme of nocturnal ediquetes
bed side regrets..hands on our heads..
boasting about our roasted frontal lobes..I thought I quit this game centuries ago.
its like spangeing a hobo...devoid of logic ...prophecies unobtainable
tis an air of neglect in this puddle of love.
in retrospect it would be better if most things were left unjust
but somehow,
I haven't been moved yet
nor touched..
I fear I've manifested space,here,hung up
dry in these cosmos.
devoid of lust
I trust the end to these feelings will come soon,
until then
I bid adieu to every quivering lip raddle from the cheeks I see to it blush,
in thine prescense
your engery is a present
call it an open heart fetish