donate to ya boy

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

to toledo

...I guess Ive just been learning how to love better...

especially as I get calls from you.

I honestly thought we'd never speak again

& hearing your voice makes me feel truth.

As Baltimore burns

I feel the change in the air

for better / for worse

as long as your involved...I'd go to the looney bin with you...probably will without you too

You make me feel like the ruthless kid I was

combined with the adult whos heart is so open it could never be full

I'm such a fool

but that hasnt ever stopped me from wanting to swim with the squids.

somthing to be said for a kid addicted to doing small bids

keeping high from all the movement

homies with scars who refer to me as

"bookworm"...just dont judge a book by its cover.

come and hover with me

underneath these covers...where we can share our fears

our anxieties

where I can finally tell you without all the bullshit poetry: just how much I've always been in love with you.

Sunday, April 19, 2015


new book for purchase!!! GRIME TIME LIVE

I hung my head

upon this throne of dope

switches we're the last thing that mattered

bellowing laughter through a cloud of smoke.

Ever after

modern masters of craft & spoken word

laid in wake

breaks in the murmurs of modern scope

toxic waste in the fabric of time

splices of hope when beauty came to mind

tattoos to remind me once I felt alive

I was loved...I was mine.

finding this inner strength was forces which bind

climbing to another dimension

a different time.

this is how I choose to die...to rise...writhe

mind the rope

the length of the spirit...how it cant be broken

or how it becomes.






Friday, April 17, 2015

In a random suburb

On a sunny afternoon

Hanging out by the broken fountain

Mountains in my distant views

I think it’s a clue to who I am

The colorful and vibrant hues

The muse that I am

Barely contorted to a fuse

Loose in the jungle of creeps

Keeps me lurking with the blues

A crucial flaw in my plans

No intentions of being misused

But we all are to a ceartin extent

And it’s been a minute since I felt content

Not like I hold contempt in my heart…but it is a clue

Loose in the ally ways

No intentions to lose

Then the helicopters swoop overhead

I wanted the weather not the news
1 note
cheeseburgernebula
#denver#colorado#collage
1 note
cheeseburgernebula

Lost to the showers hum

I dream of being somewhere warm

Here on the floor

Thinking if I need to take another valium

If their even helping anymore…

Boats unmoored on a rocky shore

Such is our condition .

Renditions in equality

Revelations of the lonesome

Pint pitchers get passed around

Pitched love gets to action

I’m always asking

She’s always masking her feelings to loved ones

Basking in this so called mum.

Moot points from distant suns

And I feel the light of the sum

Any good son could see the truth

Wether excommunicated

Or bought and used.

I keep thinking I need to make it home

But I was born on the run

During a flash flood

Somewhere in Arlington Texas

No great cemeteries to speak of…shadowed by the mammoths of lust

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Lost in a void

Annoyed by the lack of sun

It started as a beautiful day

Now it’s midday- just fading into dusk

I’ve see the boys on the streets

Playing with their fake guns

The American Dream.

Here on the edge of the slums.

Silence through the noise-

These thoughts won’t be outdone.

I used to live life with fear…

Now it’s closer to love.

I see the portal in the middle of the theatre open up -

I hope it swallows me whole.

Love lost in the after hush

A whole crisp wallet of wrinkled ones..

It’s like I carry this sadness like dust

No coupons…just a picture of myself from kindergarten…and a Valium for if things get tuff

Trying to remind myself I still can be loved…that I was born to be rough
I used to see love in your smile

Now all I feel are the lies you sold me

How I told you about each of my fears

How much denial can feel holy

Monday, April 13, 2015

We hongray

Out here servin stove top on the meet

Ain’t no sweets

Just street sweepers it seems

I don’t trap

Can barely rap

But given a whole lot of thanks

I may put myself on a proverbial map

Light up the gas

It’ll fuel this evening

Every moment as equally fleeting

Seeing the free nature I have maybe seemingly seem less

Beautiful…somthing to retreat from this

But it’s hard work not knowing where your next meal can come from

Only support network I have comes on the front

That’s why I don’t act like a Dum-dum…suckers get ghost
You can sleep on me as much as you want

I’ll be a nightmare in a few years

Couple more books…jet setting everywhere

It gives me goosebumps doing key bumps

Yung RL Stein of the millinea…never destined to be a millionAire

See me in my element ghost riding a hot boxed element…straight stomping like a elephant on psychedelics till the competition is irrelevant

It’s for my betterMent

Chewing on breath mints

Spitting Icey melodies

Shout out to my cousin melody

RIP uncle rick

Even sewer gators have dreams too…things to lose

That’s why I’m writing reams fool

The goal isn’t to live for ever

It’s to create somthing that could

My boy mush will be here soon

I think that’s what keeps me in high attitude

I know this weed keeping me in high altitude

It’s all about the longitude and latitude

The way you direct your attitude…a direct under standing of religions and the aftermath that insues

Activs on a sunny Sunday afternoon…the only thing that conceals these moods

This pain is a muse

As much as it is a tool

I’ll see you on the other side..when the sun is eclipsed by the moon
Death is only welcome if he comes with the cosmos

God is only welcome if her lips drip gold

In between the concrete & the sunset

I find my love isn’t as nostalgic as the majesty of paper folds

I’ve been laying on roads

Watching the clouds roll

Letting cars burnout and tumble over

Baptism in gasoline for this soul

I see the world burning

I keep throwing paper cups of water on it

Wondering if my story is worthy of being heard

Technicolor hearts beating the inside of this skull…away from the herd…nothing but these odd jobs have been so I can purchase

& her kisses taste like skoal…

She’s gonna let her cigarettes burn

I’m gonna die right here…poetically

Potentially ready to learn where reality

Actually comes from

I guess it’s somthing that manifested itself

So self

Build a pyramid on a waterfall

Remember your as important as a single tree in the forest…shady & teeming with life…ready to lose it all to be a vessel or a home
I spend my days amongst thieves

Everywhere I turn & look

Like it’s apart of my truth

Who Iam on this lonely cruise.

I feel like a muse

Mostly to myself as something to prove

An interstate love song

A long wordy statement which leads to a duel

This is the fuel I so wish to loose

The blood which spills on my shoes

The bass that rides in on cue

Like I’ve ever had anything to lose

Drop me off at the luve

It’s where art dies on this world tour

Only fools regurgitate excellence

Like its something to behoove

Who are you?

Why are you so entitled to these moves

Pawns always protect kings

Rook

Monday, April 6, 2015

I used to be in love with a alcholic

in a lot of ways I still am

I think its those signs of humanity

I find most attractive.

I could die right here in my bed

these perscription medications came without cat scans

just a friends apartment

only lit by the television as a back lamp.

I spent today under a tree

reading Marvel's "Avengers essentials"

thinking about how much 60's america feard communities outside of their "modern" acceptance

really people of color of any kind...any sort of controlled agression.

I know nothing has changed

Tamir,Trayvon,Michael Brown....I cant breathe

I hear screams...I see dreams drown

but anytime I speak...people shake my hand...thank me for making a sound.

Im just a small tenor in a choir who is bound

by media outlets and FBI propoganda...twitter

now the only place truth can be found.

And no this isnt white guilt...this is decency confounded

this isnt about pesos,franks or pounds

but the evil we find so profound.

this isnt about marketing

this is so no more children have to be lead to the ground.

I am a simple hand in the network of shrouds

unmasked...marching aloud

no government can block my path because Ill make my rounds

you think Im afraid of death? seeds have already been sprouted

you think im afraid of jail?

all of my brothers and sisters are in and out

the only decency left has to be bought,sold or found

becareful of the latter...you still may catch rounds.

this is the American dream

screaming openly about opression until your lungs fall out

this post orweiliean society

only the truth is stranger then fiction now


live as if a jagged bone stuck out of your wrist

list everything your thankful for on a switch

light the last of your gas

& float until you reach abyss.

Ive been adjusting to medications

striving for meditation in my day to day

funny how this word play sorbet lends itself like sword play

striking necks I had no intentions of engaging

& they think its all about spelling

beat structure...vomiting the same things over n over

I think its all about telling

smelling the fear in your opponents like poperi & pompei

I'm not as old as I once was

but this city pumps nothing but young blood

& we lay in fountains in the shadows of mountains...

unconcerned with other men...other cities...accountants.

I could die tomorrow

seeds have already sprouted

I could lend my sorrow

but the trees whisper...begging just to borrow

Montrose,Colorado dances in my rear view

a single ear to the road

a few roaches in the ashtray

just another day of being alone...steering truth




Saturday, April 4, 2015

Been a rough few weeks

Lost a few links

Seen my Zelda leave to another kingdom

There’s so many chances at meaning

Even more so for grieving

I can just sit around quietly-believing

One day I’ll be anything

Displayed at an immaculate frame rate

Teething-just gnawing my way to the ceiling

I think I’m dreaming

Like if I wake up soon life won’t be so fleeting

But it’s so freeing seeing the lesions on my skin

Like I was meant to die in decadence

Meant to live without intent

Just another poet on the Internet

In it for the scripts

Intimate courtships

And my mistress-the moon…it seems pain is my muse
I just love the taste of you

The way you feel when I share myself in you

The way I write when I’m making love to you

I don’t really care what happens

I just hope to spend a few days together when it suits our nature

Our natural flows & auras never truly feel separated

I’ll see you the next time the moon covers the sun

When the nebulas dance

A total eclipse of the humble nature of this love

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

all my lovers leave-their dreams are more important then me

AS IT SHOULD BE.

most my brothers in & out of the pen

and these kids round here ask why I dont speak...why Im always spending

Used to make phone calls to my kids before the taps

now I just talk to my ma or my straight shooters from childhood-every call mapped.

I had teachers who told me my life was a game of craps

as Hammer said “dont be another statistic”...I just laughed

Its hard being a touch sadistic

especially when youre undeniably prolific...a bit mad

I wish this didnt sound as narcaccistic as it is

but the truth is harder to swallow then half of these fads.
I keep myself in pads

running through the blocks

I just wanna stay out of the pad

I wont waste my life in the cell blocks-ill dissapear before that

I feel like perfect cell,in a beautiful hell I created for myself

formed from my decisions-lack of knowledge of self

I hope one day Ill be lead by the smells

of fresh flowers and gentle rain on a dirt trail...a path which leads to my personal health

out dated

All I make is bad decisions

But it’s my course

My ministry.

All I believe in is decadence

It’s my curse

My empathy.

I feel I deserve the world

But all I want to do is share

Figure out what is and why it’s important

I’m impatient

A little dated

But this of no importance

Meet me in the forest

I’ll probably be burning my belongings

As some sort of ancient offering

Tourching this life I’ve built for myself

In hopes of building a monument

Out of the ashes…Iam always yearning