donate to ya boy

Monday, November 30, 2015

she asked

“What have you eaten today”

She asked

“Some xanax and codone”

She stared at the placemats

I felt like a happenstance

Happy mirage

A mirror of what you think is exciting

Opposed to what you now have to accept as “reality”

She keeps her wealth a secret

I flaunt my poverty

Obviously each other’s flaws are seen

“What do you want out of life”

She sips another glass of wine


The only worthy thing that came to mind

“But what do you mean?”

Finally intrigued

“The ability to not have to explain or do anything”

I leave…we hug…I write till my eyes bleed and I fall asleep on another couch somewhere in the south because my intentions speak volumes to the things I seek

Friday, November 27, 2015

the perks of being a fall flower

I see the wind whip threw my tree riddled city
Drip drip drip
The pitter patter of realitivley
I put on a ski mask with holes worn into the neck and chin area
Sparing the hypothermia that will ultimately rid me of this ethereal fear
Peer in to my soul
Is it merely piers or oceans
Maybe the Marionic trench
Doomed to repeat history
To stupid to say anything about it
Another night on a couch somewhere in Brooklyn
These crooklyn dodgers are fathers in the sense that their always learning
Manifesting a new state of being
I’m not dead yet
But I sure as fuck am bleeding
But this cooperstone won’t run
And the kids are no fun if they can’t operate guns or do drugs
This is our america
A nation of pirates and parrots
Nationalism and tariffs
This is my nation
And it burns this Black Friday

Monday, November 23, 2015

roll through cities with no doubt in my eyes

try as I might,these lines give greater purpose to life

quiet monday night madness while I snort lines

& she just lies the whole time.

I seem to have missed winter

but its still cold in my heart.

survival is beauty & pain

just as much as its an art.

formulate these cries with me

dead city dreams...all capitals

like FEAR & LOVE

compounded wisdom into pretty packages of judgement

this is not my last stand

I'll be ready to break bones by the time we're done here

(what have we done here)

a graceful parachute from heaven

grateful in death.

its like we've become deaf

bountiful in debt...yet I cant remember giving a single loan.

these scars are my home

these cars,punk houses & penthouses are my hope

that one day I can feed,shelter and clothe all who need more

but I have to do that for myself first.

bi polar abridged

less depressants / more wisdom

my molars grit

is this the gift in the lesson?

Friday, November 20, 2015

in a garden

of flowers

& yet I still find

myself looking

at you
drive slow

mind rolls

the whole goal

is perfect soil.

foundation to grow

a pledge to stay loyal-

photographs of home

nurtured moments of growth where we toil.

I feel like I'am spoiled

your love is a token

I only need one for the road...

it seems as if our love is boiling

spoiling in time trials and royalty

I expect aesthetics

coughing up lungs like we need paramedics

all these plans foiled.

so I smoke another foil

tell stories to the moils

churned about churches which recoil

like the cock back of this protection...just an escape route from the slums

stuck on the thoughts of us

plush memories so robust

& I am...alone

without trust.

no funds.

no monthly installments

the only help is from people who love me

so Im enthralled in it.

this is the pain in poetry

this is the gut punch that is art

all of my heart on this silver platter

just enough memories to never give up.

its like everyone has

except a few kids Im caught up with

lost in the duldrums...another product of lust

learning how to roll with the punches

I feel like a hearld of galactus

holding the power cosmic

silver surfer of the rust

the rest is just rushed.

meet me under the bridge

we’ll share a spliff

tell each other what we’ve lost

what we’re willing to give

even if its just minutes

your spirit is a bridge

mine is a glimpse

of what came before and what lives

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

I hope you wont miss me when Im gone

Ive been numb for so long

watching the river drip along

writing you these little songs

I hope they play like sonnets

something youd read like scripture

because these perscription drugs have me lost

waiting for sunset just to toss & turn till dawn

I used to feel like a pawn

now its more like bishop

but Im still willing to give myself

in hopes of the betterment of the board.

I hope youre not bored

getting this snail mail...reading these words

its like we're worlds apart

when your just down the road.

I know Im quiet

but you make my gentler murmurs roars

I wont quit

I was built to better the world...nothing more

Thursday, November 12, 2015

lifes a weird dream again

I dont know as if to question

or remain one with the flow

so it goes.

I dont have any fear anymore

I feel 16

but its been ten years

and a lifetime of mistakes cherish me like an heir.

careful blood loss

words lost

coffee pots

times when I could not process thought

punch drunk

dumb luck

and some friends

I really dont deserve

curvy roads in the mountains

poetic bouts above the river

southbound I travel

until I reach the equater or the southern rim.


passed out in a passenger seat

driven around the city,asleep

wake me up at the cemetary

we'll go find a gravestone to smoke underneath

I'll meet you at the doorstep of my reality

"if you understood everything I said you'd be me"

miles from the ocean,more so from the mountains

on the foot of a river bleeding east.

I had no more lovers.

just some grams & a little weight I stayed underneath

no more scales

these eyeballs will get the better of me.

light sensitivity

lower back strains

I woke up in another bed,in another state


all this traveling is just the beginning

I fear it has no end.

home is the road

its the only place I can react

I slumber amongst theives

people out of touch with the end of their fingertips

as long as their palms stay full of nothing

constant hustling just leads to championship repeats

but we're talking about practice

and evil ways just to make ends meet

like everybodys meat

and a couple calls mean everything.



their all for me.

its all for me.

Im far from meek

but I can swallow teeth

sometimes land a 3 piece

sometimes I just stand their and say nothing.

just let the sharks swim

and let the fish eat.

one ear to the ground

the other with a 9mm shoved into your peace.

reactions mean nothing if you cant sleep

and if you can

well then godspeed

because hell is full of wine & cheese.