donate to ya boy

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

workworkwork

watch the whole place burst

cant you feel it?

dont you know what its worth?

Its gonna be a good day

I say as it comes to a close

one more hour closer to waking up alone

one more lag from watching the whole place glow

maybe I say to much

sometimes its nothing at all

that in and of itself is of the world

dreams within the wear withall

call of the style

its like I dont care at all

maybe if I was more like robert frost

7 pages on nothing but blue berries...the fuck is that worth

maybe Im just to synical

dont believe in pinacles

just stipulations and rituals

hearts like a furnace

Monday, July 27, 2015

everything lacks feeling

even this guilt is fleeting

Ive been sleeping less & less

it soften the blows of coffins

more and more friends go

more and more I grow

into a state of blossoming

in may ways I feel opened

listening to velvet underground on the floor

I think this is how I always invisioned life

floating on an ocean

unaware of dangers of anything other then not eating enough

not being enough.

I just wish to love

spend hours lush in the overbrush

tussling with life cusped

I dont think of much but beauty

I think its this putrid reality that makes me yearn for soothing

sometimes I can even believe it dosent exsist

but the scene always ends...and actors exit stage left

its a mess...not always saying what you think

being who you are...if that even makes sense these days

scraping and clawing at success as if its some reward or gift

its interpretations of staying warm and cooked meals

drug deals & bible studies

hot showers and warm beds.

thats it...and I can get that on the road

no matter the city.

glitz and glammer feel more like hammers to the brain

a busted open solar plex

no light shining from it...no waves

new ways...sacred heartfelt goodbyes felt for days

if we only told time

peoples instinctive travels and ways

I think it was when I told her I loved her

that I realized some lines are better left unsaid



Im not worried about money

nor am I concerned with fame

If I die young,Ill be the one to blame

I sometimes pretend this is all a game.

I want to write on the thames

nothing to eat but cigarettes

Im ready to recede

go back to the way I used to live.

Ive found out what makes me tick

its like a pin from a grenade

joe peschi with the pen

just a couple swipes at the neck...dead

jokers in my card deck

just shootin craps

pretending to be wack in the sunlight

just outta greed to keep these facades intact.

I dont even know what I think

more alprozolam then I need

desires to be alive

whatever that means.

I can see alot of things

but I cant look inside

I cant give up because then I cant eat

& thats the diffrence I see...what do you seek?




I thought it something beautiful

This night that had begun

I saw hints of beauty

Glimpses of a setting sun

Off into the night obscurely

As if unfiltered and exuberant

I thought about it like stardust

Like everything had always been beautiful

I’ll see you next year

Maybe even next month

I hope you get what I’m saying

I need you to feel this love

Once this is undone

This whole bout with myself

Maybe we can be together

Maybe we can laugh...maybe we can see where each other are coming from.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Taking moments out of the day to do what I love

rarely do I hold anything above the lines I shove

relentlessly into thes compact drafts

so daft & alone...surrounded but lacking in company

selective truths in a state of ruin

I think it was when I turned ruthless

closed my mouth & began tuning nuances into routes less traveled

this brain just unravels

next morning. somewhere around eight

couple blunts rolled up and a skateboard

I think Ill make it down town

bum around

maybe meet someone of worth

everyone is

but in our individual journeys some are more important

I cant see the shore

some days I barely see the sunshine

may as well continue lurking

starving as I do what I love in the mean while

Saturday, July 18, 2015

passed out under an empty sun

I don't think Im in "love"

at least in a conventional sense

virtues vital like viruses in remembrance

vertebrates reverberating

wave of emotions like coming in off the tide

titles & rings

I need to embrace this guilt...this sin...the cards Ive been dealt

melt with me darling

obscurely into the evening

tell me what makes your heart stop beating

your lungs stop breathing

I barely sleep as is

I find it soothing

being awake when no one is

perusing the dreams of the people surrounding

pounding so much valium its astounding

pondering such value...its confounding

all this pressure seems to be mounting

and by the morning I'll be in the mountains

fountains couldnt keep me from leaving

all this love is mere gifts Im receving

I may die this evening

such is the course...such is believing



I found hope in the dark

where I learned to be alone with my thoughts

smoke clouds drowned out by the haves

the have nots.

I gave it my all

all I got was this lousy tone

a couple throw away phones

& aliases for the future...whatever it holds.

A name carries weight

which is why it can help you ghost

I found hope in a prescription bottle

that werent my own...the get and the give.

the give and the take

all this sensory intake

it makes me think about my selective truths

the why & how in the pengillum breaks.

will I ever see venus

or will I die loaded in these fur coats

every sense of the word

past tense...tents on fire...lurid to the world

I have to go now.

as for the tears...I believe they'll slow

maybe when I find myself on an island-

hopelessly alone.

Monday, July 13, 2015

I feel like Steve Kerr

severed heads on an island of doubts

a stern look of pouts

(most topical creams couldn't rub it out)

I think this means Im filled with mouths

endless bouts I wrestle with now

always open / always feeding

miracles in motion

& yet it feels like Im teething.

seething for another way of being

don't stop believing..."Journey" plays softly over the evening

"now what the fuck was I teaching"

a flash to fourth grade...the first time I learned how to be brave.

meaning.

I mean it has to be here...some...where?

if not who would the religons save

how would we know that were laying waste to our tastes?

this city feels like a cave

mistakes made on maiden voyages of space

comfort...conformity

"I'll have my eggs over easy" ( I mean what the fuck does that even mean?)

back again to the screen...

moments wasted as finger tips clip their heels

Ill be home before I can even feel

until then I'll just cheel...its like each of these stories are reems.

why even play

when the opponent isnt setting screens

just another victory from the triangle offense

it seems.



convince me that Im not dead yet

tell me in portraits scribbled on manuscripts

paint it with your laranyx

as you scream out what couldnt entrench

I'am a vision

one you havent hammered out yet

begot by the feelings of tremors & retrospects

a broken heart so filled with contempt

you'll find me hanging by a picture above your bed

you can dream of me as that man or whatever Ive been lead too

as for now this heart is dead too

I just need to be fed...drink some coffee too

who knows?

I could be in brooklyn by afternoon

but that would only provide proof

that exactly whom we are we were destined to behoove

in my eyes I see the sweltering heat

the heart which beats

and the chariot whom leads...

not a damn truth follows me...I am a product of what I conceive

your heart is a cathedral

mine is a fort

youre so willing,honest & open

I'am nothing but walls & courts

judge me lest he be judged

awake in the frozen food aisle

the only thing I could convey

was trust.

miracle moments in the great haze

canadas on fire & the weather gets stranger by the day

its not a phase,more so a question of sorts

is what I breathe of ill importance?

"these pretzels are making me thirsty"

loose references so dated & boring

and yet the smiles I seek are so adoring.

I'm not perfect,but Ive never lied to you before...this feeling is too rewarding

mornings picked over a point so new

I think it was when I realized I had to create my own truths

be my own muse

that I realized you were a fuse...one that plays right into my blues

choose your own destiny

remind me of your touring

wording can be like warring

just as love can be tourturing

so again I sit here

lost in the mist

a bliss of folklore

and poof there it went.
I think about you hourly

like there is no power in me-

like I was built to love

& convey such feelings.

I'm still reeling

trying to find space to breathe

& once I finally catch up to my heart beats

it'll have spilled all my teachings.

you to me

are the embodiment of peace

my mind is a tundra where as yours

is a beach.

to have you within reach is my only dream-

you mean the world to me...

however far, however sacred

however succinct.

your touch is relief

just as much as our time is brief

-one day things will work out

in this I believe.

until then Ill send you morning musings

tapered lines of belief

& watch from a far,adoring

every inch & mile you receive...you're more beautiful then I could ever conceive.




Saturday, July 11, 2015

isolated & surrounded

boundless thoughts so clouded

sleepless nights

as I turn & toss like mountains

glossed over memories

glimpses of loss

years I took from me

an apprentiance of God

grounded

and I use this term loosely

loose wires & my awareness

boosting

musings about abuse

truthfully

I dont find it amusing

but it is what I seem to view.

I feel like a piece of the luve

set ablaze

in the future I hope to see the brighter side of things

as for now I sleep the afternoons away.

its probably due to these drugs I use

just to make sure I dont have to do what I used too

but maybe thats truthful

deeper then Im ready to go...maybe its just time to grow

Thursday, July 2, 2015

somethings are hard to put into words-

but I still write it out.

I know most people who smile brightest

have the biggest doubts...but your faith in me

is a blessing like a hand out.

Im so used to putting my foot in my mouth-

so easy to do when your from the south.

after all these bouts of depression,anxiety

and worrying about the space I house

the trust you showed me wiped away all my pouts.

I never once placed bets on myself

but now Im all in.

I feel confident,loved and appreciated...

and alot of that has to do with the clout in which you bestowed upon my head-

something I realize Ive always had now.

If I could write music for you I would.

if I could sing,I'd shout from my roof!

but as of now

I hope this poem serves as a thank you of sorts

because this would be shakey coming out of my mouth...routes are never linear...but simple acts of kindness can move mountains.