donate to ya boy

Tuesday, June 30, 2015


prolific & gifted

narcissistic & pretentious

venting to a ceiling

another night unscripted

vicious adaptations of perception

no exception to the rule

on a cocktail of prescriptions

& I can still smell her perfume

like some sort of curse,some sort of truth

thrashed out trashed out,vomiting in a expensive ass hotel room

because where am I going to run too...the only next move

this country looks like a chess board

& all I have is a mattress and a chest of drawers

no credit,no paperwork,just spoils of war

alot of the time Im such a pacifist...I wish I hated more

sometimes I have so much hatred I just pray I dont hurt

prey to the eyes of the world

love in the eye of the storm

& here I sit...barred out and alone

thank God for flying lotus...or Id be more anxious to how this night would go

Monday, June 29, 2015

fuck poetry

fuck art

I vomit all these things I create

there is no "process"

you want explinations?

go look at the stars...

feel the pain in your heart

let that be a start.

theres never enough universes to chart

never enough bars for starts

anxiety riddled so I dont leave the house

but for walks...I'am a nebula...fuck more like a quasar

you can see me in the distance

but Im so much farther then I appear

luminous and dark

complex looks at the absence...and the abyss we compartmentalize

I wish i wrote like you

or you were lay in the bed you gave me

it occupies an empty room

a full closet tho...just a sign of vanity...the social insanity...doom

I think I'm comfortable in misery

like some sort of ministry

I thought it'd be a mini series

but its season 9...and we're losing all meaning

I wish I spoke like you

focused and intentionally

I stand in the basement grow just to stay cold

just going insane casually.

You made me feel extravagantly

the first time my soul wasnt a graveyard

I wish I could clean up,be more honest...refrain from being so broken hearted

but I just cant understand whats happening to me...developing habits like I need a routine

down the rabbit hole

no concern of the future it seems

just some empty goals with dellusions of grander & gleems

and I just want to hold your hand in the aisle of some marketing scheme.

or just early morning meanderings

waking up next to you

only to lay there until late afternoon...

its been a long time since I've felt new...since Ive said what I said to you...since Ive had meaning

total eclipse

open mind /closed wounds


I want people to succeed

this isnt how you bloom.

you need statistics and goals

blankets & open roads

lumps in your throat

skin off knuckles...composite notebooks full of poems...musings


lots of youngins callin themselves Gods

but their in an old testament fog

Im chilling with prostitutes,liars & theives...calling myself love...ready to be flogged...reaching

In my eyes you've seen the last, lost the plugs

junkies have pasts...sometimes even futures but

boy oh boy

if I could only remain sober with consistiency...then there wouldnt be these feelings of inadequacies

I promised I would clean up, seeming broken hearted

watching dave hit the vein with the needled was how it started

or maybe Calvas apartment...he said: "but your an artist"

I guess I shouldnt be seeing this as my farthest

further as I travel

meanings unravel...all the answers lead to questions

they all have diffrent babble

same goals ////// never loose hope

but all these pills are just as bad as ropes

on my walk earlier today...I think about 3

I stopped and I talked to a man under a tree

in his 90 years he says,he never made money doing any one thing

but he was always these sunburnt arms in the quiet hours of early evening loose feeling

another beautiful day & yet it all still seems so fleeting...

maybe hes right

making myself happy is all that I can really dream..."when did you stop thinking like a loser"...

this afternoon,

it seems.

dead weight

solid 8

ok...maybe 5

alright I a 99

full manna

eating bananas

hanging upside down from power lines...

to be blunt...I enjoy being high...most of the time

maybe thats the problem

maybe I'm the one

maybe if I acted more like a script

this movie would play like the silver screen.

I play dumb,try not to scream

pretend to want somthing

I honestly just wanna eat


rhyme lines // snort time

fall asleep at your side

listen to your heart beat...make beleive everything will be "fine"

its all finesse

in fact as I digress as I see the degrees

the other variables I need

one cant become another without the stars & the sea
thrown overboard into an eagles nest

a night aloud.

I think I forgot how to rest

just put my heart into everything Ive found.

my guardian angel is a chubby,

floppy haired mexican kid

smoking blunts in an old pair of

shoes I gave him...reminding me to never give in...or up

all these rails got my nose runnin

my teeth look whiter due to all the blood bubbling

and for once I believe everythings gonna be O.K.

that my life wont be on the front...that this isnt the last jump

a first step really...a late leap

right before a long brunch

with the woman I love

and the stars still hovering silently,quietly above

I feel the hum of the universe

the alignments in play

I see the scope of the algorithims

and all the parts seem wasted.

I hope this isnt a plee

but a system without a basis in reality

somthing that works for me

chaos in this so called conformity

I am divinity

evil & good in contained space

I am masculine...I am feminine

the light & darkness which prays

I prey on those weak of heart

as if I had anything to say

defenitions vary

just as my studies day after day

just to clarify

I have never had clarity

just muddy portraits of dreams

peices of peace I wish to breed...reems of paper bookmarked with lost hair...broken teeth

maybe Ill never need again

all of earths provisions redeemed for me

"when did you start thinking like a loser?"

the first time I started to some sort of belief

Friday, June 26, 2015

you texting to come

is really asking too.

12 o clock at night

I guess you've been thinking

of me too.

waste of space

its a cold dead heartbeat

that I feel out here in space

like all of this is a waste

or a way into a case

or vase.

I urn for a living

vivid mimicking

complacent honesty

with hints of


in no way is it ministry

but in every way is it death


this infinite jest

"needle in the hay" plays...this is a deadly spread....hurt

asleep in a hurst.

think I'll cut my losses and hit the sands

my tired hands...blood cursed

infiite blossoms like a blue bonnet

might as well use 'em & toss em like its 2k15 in this dark verse...because it is

"When did you start thinking like a loser"

when I used her so I didnt have to work...

drank myself in a brothel made of granite

three dead fish on a doorstep- the work of hands

like some sort of some sort of planning...not rage

I guess as a planet I collect my sunlight & roll over when I can...stay out of the cage

but lately it seems Ive been floating delicatley

like the mirror is my page

the person I made has my back...

a risky wage...

unlike the snakes in this ever rising grass...common place these days.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

I used to hang out with this kid who beat his mom to death

he went by JC.

a few weeks later some of old my coworkers were executed by another guy who used to

be the fry cook...just walked in & went on a shooting spree

some how master chef survived (shout out to the OG)...

they found homie in a park the next evening

sitting in his 98' ford ranger...just burning alive...

I think he survived tho...

I used to run around the country...thousands of drugs in the trunk of a Mazda Z6...

I was mostly surviving off LSD and burgers...sometimes Id throw up

mixing liquor with liquid hydrocodine...unafraid of growing up

fucking girls whos boyfriends werent around for the evening

be out early in the morning...shower covered in weeks worth of dirt

breakfast...and she throws me some of her clothes for the road...

I started putting feathers in my hair...panhandling by UVA,VCU

had one dude told me if I didnt give him his tax fed put me in an ICU

we shared ciagrettes and food...I gave him 4 dollars..."you good fool"

I remmember trying to sleep under overpasses in Baltimore trying to get to Pittsburgh

young jack kids planning...I can see the villian in their vibes...stay up all night drinking that militant

I aint mad at them...we both just trying to eat...but the urn aint as scary as this dog & knife I got on me

why try to be hard when your just trying to breathe?

Next day we jugged to philly...the juug was becoming more of a headstash then currency

flying signs by Ginos and Pats...racking up 12 tickets in less then 6 hours and 17 streets

breaking on to gettysberg national mounment just to smoke a cigarette...leave...

I used to have a probelem with OD'ing...just too many nights conecuitly

couple seizures...rare doctor visits...too much anxiety to really tell them what Ive seen

so I still just eat valium & xanax like candy

oxycontin like a treat...but people dont believe me...I pay my bills,work my jobs,drop books and still steal

post modrdum // post modern

I guess this blunt my only kin...couple noid dope boys

and the fuckers I grew up with...

but they all KNOW I lost my mind

I think hell and heaven are the only thing keeping me using

bruising up this skin...waking up in strange places with girls I call friend...

I cant keep my story on hold for too long...gotta start realizing the surface level

is all perception can encompass...let me crawl into your feelings

realize how much I reel in pain..I feel like Im wisdom teething.

I had a friend paralyzed from the waist down

he killed himself slowly off all the the perscirption drugs

half hed throw to me...sipping another 40

he said: " keep creating...this shit keeps me believing"

shit me least that what it seems

his youngests brothers both had sons...I imagine he lives on through one of them

but the thing that still haunts,

flaunts in my dreams

is the time I met my brother in Waco from Austin to sell him Kolanopin

and he got in a head on collision and died on the way

as the french say...c'est la vie...let the pain come out and play

Thursday, June 18, 2015

my mattress lays on the floor

of a room I can barely afford

nothing but art in it.

just work myself into the burn.

I havent earned anything

not even the right to bitch

cis-white male,whole world at my finger tips-

if I buy in.

fuck money

get stitches

listen to your local witches

& feel something...lift the limitations from vision

Life isnt a series of trips

or a whole and complete learning experience

it just is what it is

the give and the get...sometimes

I think of where I was when reality bit

even after all this time I was an addict

to not masking it with mirrors

I felt like Bruce Lee...Enter The Dragon...but instead,chasing it

leering even at myself...fight the urge and replace it with somthing else

like God...or trans fats

neither as beautiful as deaths grasp

the ever wandering finger tips

ready to snip any life in an instant

the whole world as peers it appears

no real fears..just questions and instinct

killer like...but not like some I know

diffrent mentalities // diffrent approach

I feel baroque

broke & alone-


all at once...will I ever find a home?

Friday, June 5, 2015

can I write delicate


so much so it makes your shivering


simmer to each kiss

expressive text

like you mean the world to me

a lie I dont regret

because I wish it so very much

to be true.

I think Ill be moving soon

I dont know how,what or why

but I just feel it in the moon

the sun...

the way my body feels when I muse.

I just want to live with love

spend time suspended above touch

reach for a new plateau of being

fiending to be me

always believing,

I expect nothing less

blessings stretch from my heart to my head

I wish to be the change in myself

I wish to give despite & because

the cards ive been dealt.

wealth is only of the mind

youll never understand beauty

without pain

Thursday, June 4, 2015

The Dream Shake

dream shake

I'm dream baked

always thankful for my blessings

this Captain America like strenghth

not overly powerful

just witty and experienced

I think I'm delirious

too much coffee and way too many bong rips

just shooting like Rick Barry

thats more so due to the subs

basement recordings where we spit about being broke

living off of random thousands & handouts from local churches

pounds still make me blush

other work still keeps me hush

even this reference is to much

but fuck only live once...right?

maybe its a thousand times


updated for the modern times.

I hope I move on

maybe to a planet made of cannibas

where all I do is harvest,bang screw

play basketball & watch anime the whole year through.

(oh wait thats what I already do) I think hate is just fear

and I think fear is just love

but I think communication and perception

fuck everything up...& maybe I'm all over the place

maybe Im right in line here

but every time I think I find myself

a new character enters the narrative...another weakness appears..another team up draws near

If I steer clear of all storms how will I know

what and when to prove?

Winning takes desire just as much as it takes knowing how to lose

knowing how to win just takes luck and lunacy...too things that are bountiful on my crew
Dried poppies

Keep these smoke rings adrift

Lounge around in my front room

Just reading, smoking spliffs

I wonder if I’ll ever forget

It’s hard to forgive

Divide and conquer

Dream as the other half lives

I keep eating pills

Wondering if I’ll ever feel again

Sometimes it’s nice just to forget

And she keeps texting…It’s all in the script

I know it was greenlit but I know nothing of the plot,charecters or climax

Just more writing and creating then I can even comprehend

Not like it’s all good…not like it’s all bad

Just so much hash lately it’s been making me feel brash…rash in decision…crass with my slide of hand

There’s magic in the air…I can feel it again

doctor strange to these females...and all I can do is sit still here