Saturday, 30 August 2014

See This

*See This* 08/30/2014

It's crazy. You know?
Like... You got all these people destroyed by this system over and over. Not because they (the destroyed) are anti-system but the opposite. They believe in this system.
Until you turn against Somethin you can't escape it.

A.A. Addicts addicted to the defeatist dogma
Spending entire McDonalds checks on gas for religious classes
Held in holes
Officiated by the most toothless and

First time prisoners with asscheeks clenched
Begging the oppressor pigs for protection
Snitchin punks seekin homelife released
So mindwashed they tell on their mama
Substance stuck Hitchin rides to classes
Unsound senile weasels

God you got like pigpens blanket
Draggin those in carriages to alters
Copycatting weakness, bullying non-believers
Seeing your son sent missionary style
To teach what was taught to as toddler
Like shitting cross country
Two failed
Potty trained juvenile
White Jesus'

Sun laughs at those who turn on family
Stagnant-Space-Stuck spewing guffaw flares
Stars against Bible books never added to
Sizes and colors infinite
Like a Fuck you to
Millionaire, military drunk
Finale' empire presidents

I still piss in a fuckin cup beside my bed like id piss in the sink beside my head in prison.

I still am what I was that whole time. I'm against.
Against white pigs holding non-whites in cages. Passing out psychotropics. Collecting suicides.

When you are held down. When three million prisoners are caged and tortured so that three hundred million amerikkans can participate in the caging simply for economic benefit.

When you hold down. When a whole countries military is lower class poor, who join entirely for economic reasons, and are trained to fight poorer peoples in order to take their money and natural resources for those who pay the military.

The millions military oppressing billions for the benefit of the three hundred million. The three hundred million citizens of Amerikka oppressing the three million prisoners, who have nothing to lose but their chains, bills and Pig-Bullets-To-The-Back-While-Unarmed-And-Innocent.

It's seeming uncle sams blanket disintegrates
Wheelchaired senile wannabe white Jesus
Brushing hair of snarly liberty princess
With hand grenade pins

And waterboard


Saturday, 16 August 2014

Blow Me Down

*Blow Me Down* 08/16/2014

I think the worst thing, the most dangerous aspect, and, at times, the only thing getting people through the hardest parts, is that when you are in the throes of insanity / torture / dying / love / lust / oppression / oppressing, you forget how it was before. You can't imagine after either. Total concentration on a single point.

IM caught up in working my job so much that my heart hurts. In solitary confinement I exercised and write so much that my heart hurt. Several girls, this past year, I've put so much of my concentration on, that I've been hurt.

I just drove by one girls house to see another mans truck in the drive. Talk about heart hurt. But I've come so far to even experience that hurt.

I drove a truck I bought, licensed and worked on. Gas in the tank I bought. A drivers license that took me over a grand to get unsuspended.

I've paid the parole people thousands. I paid the drug people thousands to drug test me and force religion on me.
Higher power, they say. Fuck you, I think.

The pigs pull me over religiously on my way to and from work. For no reason. I never do nothing wrong. Completely legal. It's just very...
What's the word?
All - encompassing.

This " doing right" all the goddamn time. And it seems the better I do the more the system presses me.

One year parole is standard and it's what was planned. They say to me now that five year parole will be more likely.

I sat in that solitary cell and changed the lives of people. Those caged beside me. I helped. Those who abused us had to stop.

But it was because I was tunnel visioned. Not because I was something great.

This past year every second has been spent helping my family. As far as I could uplift I've uplifted.

But the tunnel vision of the last year lost me everyone who helped me in solitary. This past year in the media world I've not heard a single story in the news about prison or solitary confinement. Nothin.
Noone cares out here.

I thought people were listening when I wrote about torture. A single person, not people, listened to me. A person or two.

How are we going to put a halt to sensory deprivation torture and the prison reliance we see around us? When everyone is tunnel visioned out here in society? 
Or is that even the goal here?

What happens when the prisons double instead of shrink by half?
Why is it that I am not supposed to make it out here and every possible thing the pigs can do to send me back, the hoops I jump over and over unto blatant disbelief, they do?

I mean, the pigs, the injustice system, is tunnel visioned also. The taxpayer. The prisoners. Tunnel visioned.

Three different, separate worlds in existence in this scenario. The prisoners see the pigs as pigs. Enemies. Because they are oppressed by pigs.

The taxpayer sees pigs as friend. And the prisoner as enemy.
Then, why doesn't the prisoner see taxpayer as enemy?
Something to chew on here, comrades. Don't you think?

Tuesday, 12 August 2014

Clock Walk

*Clock Walk* 08/12/2014
Deviance majestic in its pearly camouflage
Every felony earned in August
But one
The single blackout I lost track of time

Hero who overworks unto exhaustion
Hid ten years from his voice
And angry siblings` overcriticisms

Fuckin stupid conversations
Over and over again
Money spent again and again
In order to spend it

Begin pretendin bangin overweight
Seekin somethin odorless
Someone conscious
Enough not to base life on numb

Quit texting me
Silence uncomplicates me
You forget I've died a hundred times
As you try to live

Can one ever overcome the childishness
Bitchin about how bad it is
Never enough for those who've had
Their whole lives

Wishing want on those who'll never withstand it
Like loving women addicted to abuse
Hurting them with niceness
Slap, punch, kick her with shyness

You think I quit my politics
That I've trashed my freeworld friendships

Forced fraternization with voice
Pen silenced with speech
Practiced phrases repeated
The less vulgar are the more painless

When you want to finish
What you waited so long to start
When she does the unthinkable
To a heart you thought you forgot

Rememberin becomes less the enemy
When you attempt building futures
But seeing too far frightens
Like the serious and silent
Disconcerting the disrespectful
Shittalkers afraid to start

Life based on friendships
Common ground enjoyed around common enemies
Whom, like dolls, clothes switched
Limbs jerked with biting remarks behind backs

Miles walked verses frightened talk
Shoulder worlds or shoulder walk
Eventually grounds shift
When one watches the year hand on the clock

And he who lives with omnigeneration awareness
Leaps your second hand existence
Backbiting. Spoiled. Adult

Monday, 11 August 2014

Hollow Words

*Hollow Words* 08/11/2014

Her grey hair, missing in patches, blows in the muggy , bathroom air as the fan rotates. Click click click Woosh, the plastic blades go. Clearly this woman is dying. Cancer maybe.

She needs to use the bathroom located in the shower; doesn't have the vitality to walk to the other end of the store to the womens room.
" yes ma'am", I say, " you can use this bathroom".
"thank you", she says, as she exits.
"have a nice day", I say.

She notices my hollow words. She thanks me again. I notice ... Her. Hollow words.

In the back of my mind, as I'm cleaning the shower she used, to relieve herself in, I think, " her death now passes to me"...
In the smell of the toilet, as I lean down to wipe it, her death, now my death, passes. Switches hosts.

You can feel it the rest of the day. Your sunburned , thirty year old face, is now grey, deathly.

The pains in your liver intensify. The mind, which I relied upon for so long for succor, has flicked the final switch. Decline. Falling by choice though. I'm done. The lady with the patchy hair, and frightened eyes, is just my excuse.

I was going to wait, hold off, until after my parole was finished, it was only going to be one year of parole, to retreat. Maybe collect disability for a while. Relax. I will not take the inferon, chemo therapy, to (possibly) defeat the hepatitis c virus in my blood.

If you YouTube peoples struggles, see one week, two... Two months, four... You will see why I made this decision.

They become nothing. Deflated. Playacting smiles. Eyes haunted. Like that lady that needed to empty her pain pill and pharmaceutical full bowels hurriedly, in a stinky old truckstop shower. Couldn't wait...
Can't. Wait....