donate to ya boy

Friday, May 25, 2012


I'm known
as smash gordon
flash forward and you'll see the scope of my focus
retract staments
and you'll feel the testaments of my eclectic
talents that intercede passions
nestled inside
somewhere where the aspens weep
and the streams flow
a place inside of this heat.
a heart so vibrant.
a peek so steep.
we sleep in such close vecentities
I feel the radiation of body heat
confused. mistreated in the way that I seek
but alas
such is the turning of leaves
such is the hollow wain of the cemetery
my symmetry
the ending
new beginnings
and the countless bottles of whiskey
all empty
as we run and
in the streets

Tuesday, May 22, 2012


I feel chosen to express the world as I mold it
no deitys,monitary dreams...fairly senseable taste
eclectic subjective rhyme sprees.
late nights dragging the lake...
she is one I'd claim to "need"
if I was less of a solider
more of a heartwarming lover boy poet...
these dirty feet are all I've seen
rusty nails and broken glass along the streets
belly full of words
brain full of teachings.
id finally get it right if I didn't continually get interrupted in these
wet dreams
I mean
at least its not the evil thats seen
or those dabs I fiend
I remain in total control of everything but those whom I
I am no gun owner.
nor a creepy loner
just a quiet stoner
prone to panic attacks in the midst of those
make my soul warmer.
she's trouble
and Im a condrum
but in each others presence
our hearts beat like war drums

Saturday, May 19, 2012


how did I get so old
so quick
can't even bump a line off this old machete atop this glass elephant
so elegant in the way this brain is structured
I see the fortune of my open eyes...outward manifestations...paitence & virtues
I mumble.
trouble seems to come up ever so often
so easily
but it is bliss...
to shall also be my coffin
as I know the rest of it will be
the truth of the matter is Im prone to
but from the ashes often times
I rise like a


I'am a composer,
a mistro.
with no eyes
& no notes/
nor a single reason to gloat
so humble
down beyond the cellar door...
I am a cyclone...
devoid of form.
scores of words come pouring up
swirling smoke and I'm choked up by the beauty of the past few months
the epic rise and fall
the tides beyond the wall
how could I grow
with all this tragedy in my
Ill convulse and dip out
get spanged up
down south
keep my mouth
wide lonesome roads
& weed smoke.
I am no hero.
I am no clone.
exit threw the wormhole.

I am a lonley sparrow

Friday, May 18, 2012

10,000 miles inland

we're all fucking for no reason...
must be that time of the season.
I'm leaving...
I can't bare these thoughts of you...
that I am so in love with you
but who wouldn't be...
I pray to allah that I'll never loose you
but you can't see these truths inside of me
or read between the lines of my poetry
so I already am juiced
the lone grape of the winery...
and Ive gotten long in the tooth..
a testament to the blind lives we lead.
making decisions was never meant to be easy
it seems...
and if I speak now...we will loose a piece of us
& making new friends is never
my sweet...
I don't think I can treat you like the princess you deserve
I keep blacking out & sticking my penis in other girls
but I continue to scribble these manifestos feverishly
while your in the other room laying with another man...
im tormented by last nights jim beam
this mornings reevaluations with my clothes covered in jizz
and her laying next to me
pretty as she is...shes not the one for me...
I keep sinning in hope for repentance
but the only thing thats coming of it
is a broken heart and a want
no...a need
to be alone with this grief...
I'am not the man you wish myself to be
just a tattered vagabond with empty pockets and a desire to be free
no a dream
reemed threw these galactic portals with minimal feelings on how the "real world" sees it
and I am sea sick
10000 miles inland

Monday, May 14, 2012


shiftin threw space on derelict crime spree
minor signs realign spines
reminiscent of an immature rhyme scheme
i fiend...for open sores
& old bottles full of
saleenez...pace cars...motor engine type screams
only time I find peace
is at the bottom of a silk screen
only time I find speech
I'm at the bottom of my souls reach
strung out on D.O.C's
losing friends consistently
constantley seeking complacencency
it seems

yardstick olympics

loose talk
brewed hops
splugein into tube socks
crotch rot
fox is on...
riley spit'tin loose knodge.
proof stops
truth copped
chronicles of knots rocked
steady getting livid rollin up cabbage in hot spots
hi tunes
steady spitting gas fumes.
spiritually aligned like ass raping mad truth
vernacular of a
bad tooth
rotten apple from a pew
vomiting maneuer as if meine kemphf ist meine fuehere
mediocore mumblecore/
gential sore from the droolers
spores of girls rollin blunts in exchange for words
or rulers
no loose lips,
those sink pimps
ships set sail across a pale ale notion of
gin rummy
modern whoring.
jurassic glory.
this is the simon berch of my love stories.


alive...I do my best writing at 5 o clock in the morning,naked with the shower running....sweating out last nights booze...tending to my open wounds...and bruises from the kick back of a 12 gage afternoon...lunacy! some say...but I display my brain in a beautiful way...I remove my rosy red glasses and see the truth of things...I say...I was born in a city like this...Often times, Ive seen myself as the osiris of the central father was a temple man,until he lost faith and his gilded dreams were reprimanded...I had an upper hand in the land & on his natural a young boy I had swallowed my pride whole and traveled this fertile crescent as a kindred soul to the seemed to me every passage had burials...every morning the sky burned for valhalla in a stalemate...I knew my life was shrouded from the start. I followed the stars maps and listened to this war drum of a heart...these battle scars show the world what I have conquered...medusas,labyrinths and minotaurs...all for a chance to be loved...which is all anyone has ever wanted...these rugged features and pounds of hair signal Im quite scared...daring as I may be,this path is as normal to a fisherman to the sea...or a fisher of man...but for me its experience...its all in my head....its ok to be nefarious,inglorious...covered in powder without a hint of normality...thus such is the core of an osiris...a shaman...a shogun...which we all are on this sacred rock...I give thanks to my lord and the abilities granted with a sword...forged out of heavy metals I bring peace to the score...It brings fear to this heart. I clutter my thoughts with old world speaks to the abuse in me...the way I perceive things...all threatening. I have no control...and Ive admitted to this...but can this truly ever be bliss? this parking lot smells like old jizz and shit...I guess thats what happens when you nap on benches off of west colfax...its a lot to fault the will of the people...even more so,for me,to fight the unwillingness of evil that goes along with this above the turnstiles...doing my best writing when minimal eyes will be guided by it...this is my steeple...and though my temples throb and I loathe this morning sun...I can't help but feel complacent with the land...this fertile soil...these futile writings...theres a lot of alone time in life I'm finding...a lot of strange instances between the country and city lives...are these signs...are these memories spread out across time? can i share these with my soul wide open or will I finally die? I have been reborn...for once in my life...

Sunday, May 13, 2012


brain buster
flustered,upper cuts bring fevered lovers
shutter bugs...punch drunk...drunk drunk too
muffled lust overrun like light from the sun
no puns
we're all humans here too
it can be in friends uterus that you claimed in the slums
cum dosent come
whiskey..the only thing that calms this war drum
divided on totem poles
stroll along the ledges
see where the infadales patrol
no love lost in a worm hole
supernova and rollin over novices
the reverend keeps me in local anestesia
trim killed by the light of the white sands...
just come home.

Friday, May 11, 2012


kids trip'pin
I be blunted like I was knee deep in prescriptions
I got limits...
all creditors and broads with visions..
she got digits...I rarely call em,tho...
all this hash got a brothers brim low
eyes swole...mind blown...
like I wasn't use to waking up in different time zones
clones doned out trying to get play,, could I wow with similar lay poems
my athletic prowess resides in my brain,OH! long as I can convey
can't say that
for the rest of you bros.
kinda said when I hear your flows...
aint no fear in this heart...
such bold claims
ways to get you ship wrecked out in candy shop bay
similar plateaus,different games..
but i've been fasting
collecting days on a shroud
clouded in memory...which replays like a dream out loud.
its obscene the things I've seen
these 3rd eye visions...they have my quantum physics limitless
binding me to the tide
birds chirp as I get tummy tucked coming from bum fuck
calamities of some such
but i nut up
its all about how you shine.