donate to ya boy

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
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


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 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
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
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
and its time well spent...thrashed out...passanger seat of a benz
but shit...pocket full of stones...mouth full of buisness.

Monday, August 13, 2012



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


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,
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.


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...


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,
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
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
"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
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
loose lips drink gin,lovely...especially on these sunny afternoons...
oh how I could spend an eternity inside of you...
in this life we're meant to
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
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
perception is reality so that fight is fleeting
the night is sinking into MY
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

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,
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
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

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
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
because it is the most beautiful process youve ever seen
clean minded
gold hearted
clean starts and coup de ta's


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
so common while pusillanimously obscure
the soul of the earth is in her 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


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


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
Jacks helping hand...the whole gangs here...Johnnie
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


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 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"