Monday, 28 September 2015

* Marble Countertops * 09/28/2015
Two years two months two weeks two days
To teach me to think totally opposite
This body and mind in decay isnt the same
The whole pathway i walked in vainly insane
Went from waiting on a parole board
To waiting for social security
The most avid exerciser
To just catching my breath walking
The defeat in me isnt Name-Brand
Its the generic Age-Old inability
To coexist around others
To love without smothering
Just that after witnessing all the deaths
And wondering if they worked up until the moment
Does anyone ever get a month to reflect before going
Does the Rat-Race become your life
And if you stopped working
Would you stop living
Youve seen me and what ive completed
As a person dealt a shitty hand
So why do you mourn my Step-Back
My momentary hands on knee reflection
Havent I earned it
When others would sit passed out from psychotropics at night
While everyones passed out drunk in the darkness
My mind sits pondering meanings and connections
And its always amazing to see the peoples reflections
Reflecting themselves upon the judgements
Instead of looking inside at why they judge
Building the things others started instead
Of planning and creating yourself
Focusing on the focus placed upon
Instead of sharpening your own focus
Sharing 'In-Common-Nothings' instead
Of creating 'Somethings-Alone' to share
You can become caught up in the roads
Forgetting each paths meaning is destinations
Would never throw away this pristine consciousness
Built inside Supermax buildings hallogened
Over beer, drugs, thinking Herd-Intilect
When one learns thats the whole point of this
To just exist painless
Too many caught up with kids
And the total focus and raising of this
To be just the most facetous mother
Of the most flaky, purposeless kids
That hang themselves
From your Empty-Room-Minds given them
Question Mark Gallows
Your Cross-Border like the Rabbit Hole
You escape periodically bourgeoisily switching
Personas and clothes to Infatuate
Enemyize your friends soley for the push
To your next tragedy left
She's worse than him but you would never guess
Because she hides behind productivity like her breath
Same sized livers, hearts and gross amount of tears
Just that one gives a shit about society
And the likes and comments
Of cardboard cutout calcified peers
Companied each morning smelling of soaps
Six a.m. sharp with teeth gleaming
In order to enhance the $35 millions
Driving home on an empty tank of gas
Sore muscles can't even afford the bananas
Fucked her pussy so long cant pretend
Both rolling eyes when the pants come off
Like oh fuck not this again
Fuckin tire blows, out window half your paycheck goes
Have to buy my water from the city
Suck the dick of the power company
Just for lighting
Meaning lost in all of this
Infighting of the incrowds
Status and marble countertops
Holding more notice than the chiseled dates
Of the dead that did without
All you do all day
Like any of you have meaning
Or any of this roboticism
Can unmagnetize your bloods direction
Of six feet in the grave

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

*Umbilical Gun* 09/22/2015

The pinnacle of delusion
Looking down
Had it with it because for a while
Had it all
From nothing to something
To nothing
To thinking about jumping

Bouncing back and forth between emotion
Wishing for the body slam
Dirted disappeared hurting
Listen to the townfolk thinktank
About his problem
Soon favor extended in solving

You should never peel back calous
And then run
You should never whiten teeth
With lemon
Outlive teeth over brushed
Or dedicate yourself to a perfect woman
Cause she'll consume you
Let go of heartbeat with lost lust

Letting go of a chemical high
The love of a woman
A species I'd not seen ten years
Was all mine for eight months
Same age yet ten younger
Because mentally caged as a boy
But her blasé blasts my soul like shotgun
Leaves me a bloody mess
Spongeing myself with my carelessness

Each sopping up and dirt slapped nerve ending
I give up every second
Each and every minute a casket
Hours like cremation
Days like the roots into brain
Lying dust under her tree of everything

I watered her with my soul unknowingly
One should hold back a piece
Just in case lying empty outstretched
Hands beseeching from casket easy chair

When you just become the old oil painting
Hanging from the wall in faded rose
And passing processions silently tick by
Wondering how he did it so long
Alone entombed only to give up consumed
By the most beautiful thing

Bore by a vagina and broken by one
Suckled the teats of life
And breastfed from my grinning reaper
As the little laugh she left me with resounds
In my thin skull like my first cry

The blood drips smack earth
Desperate eyes looking up at doctors finger noose
My nervous system one last time reaching for her
With my last breath wishing
Heart attack upon her breast

Or the doctor would of just dropped me
Before i felt the coldness
And loved her eyes so much

Monday, 21 September 2015

*Little Death* 09/21/2015

A sigh
After so much
Relearning to just sit
To unhurt
And feel the coolness of icewater
Lick my guts

Learning to live in the stillness
Without needing or conversation
Without wondering
What she's thinking
And why
If this is loving
Why is it so full of hurting

It isn't worth it anymore
To play along
To exert effort upon effort
Upon something so distant
Towards somebody that keeps moving
Dodging my heart like the enemies
Loveplated bullets

See how far and how much
How many times the downs
Can turn into ups
And the chest pains
And liver pains
Will let me up

Gutted out my penis
By her sugar scented breath
The constant nightlong cuddles
Attempted unto limb atrophy
The fake smile held upon face
Sending forth condolences
Upon condolences
Until empty
Silent breathing

The hurt
That's supposed to help
And prevent future hurt
Just a pause button for more hurt
Forgot the lesson of pain
In the game of love
Insane buried in mud
Prayin for rain

Sit muddled unmuddling
Okaying the not OK
Just focus on falling and waking
In a centered state
And look forward to a little something
During the day
Even if its just the ice water
Even if its the thought
The truth

That she's just way better off
And my ending is just her start
A beginning my ending
Like it always was
Like I'm used to
Sang he who's been the boogeyman
He who knows the strengths
The benefits and lessons
In all ego deaths
In each broken heart

Sunday, 13 September 2015

*Sandman's Song* 12/02/2012
Wanting eternal winter
Seeking another ice age
Single white male seeking speedy execution
Death wish, damn this life. Arrghhh
Exhausted sea sick sitting solitary
Sartre's nausea sprinkled with
Marxist materialism, Staind lyrics
Sung beside Soul Asylums
" so long ago i don't remember when"
" because inside you're ugly- step"
"You're ugly like me- to the ledge"
Seeing modern conformity as below me
Been there. Done that. Don't want it
Feeling better than everyone
Haughtiness hurts me worse than insanity
KNOW I've done this all on purpose, this
Place, this pain manufactured myself
Isn't anything i wish for or miss
To do or not to do--- the question
Out of sight out of mind equals oppression
Unless minds are sour from parasitic
Consumerism. Thirty Decembers I've studied
Pain, Rage, Love, relationships, happiness
Hurt realest emotion I've experienced
Crack fiend speed walking Las Vegas
Streets. Meth addict missing teeth and heart
Beats. Captive caged inside modern day
Dungeon. Drunk on it, staggering
Drueling deprived so deep
Me and mine. Where last name becomes
Ones crime. Want this? Do you?
This only thing left me, expressing
Diseased western societies downfall
In rhyme. String Theory beside Spiral Nebula
As humanity starves to death
Suicides, cries out for something
Anything. " god give us a reason please"
To be. Nothing. Happy. Nothing. Except
Wanting things. Taking things from
Third World, oppressed, coal colored "things"
My people. My species. My holidays
Are days held in infamy, are
Nights those i loved chose sleeping
Eternally instead of continuing faking
Happy feelings in front of fascist T.V.s
Saddest part is wanting t.v., me, even
Though knowing the adverts and propaganda
Showing. Painful piece understanding
Pornography, Playboy and womens oppression
But still seeking, peeking clandestinely
Wanting it, needing it, knowing its
Wrong. Its all wrong. Oppressive this
Emotion. All ive left, this love called
Oppression. Called sickness. Give me pistol
Bridge, train, suicide by cop. Violent
Violence silence sick materialist happiness
*Sahara* 12/08/2012
Caffine twitches during psychotropic sniffles
Intermittent comradeships between paranoid enemities
Witness one soul in us all screaming ABSURDITY
Given short end of stick since birth but still swimming
Making it in humorous interactions and trifles
We are just boys being caged by boys
Males punishing males for what males do
Dear cruel world ten years of my existance
I spent huddled around flexi-pens fighting this
I'm spent now, huddled in on myself seeking comfort
Seeking something other than this
Forgive me my stubborness, craziness and weakness
I miss things. I want things. I need things
Its taken me ten years to understand this
This mind. This body. This pain is
Pristine, poetic, put it on each second
Like a feather headdress, broken sunglasses
Came, saw, conquered, was conquered, left still looking
Did what was made to do, what had to do
Do you out there do what you do for others or you
Does doing things depend on who
What's left to be said, speaking of what's left
Empty inside, barren surroundings, fearing
Skin sand dune, bone basin, greasy leftover residue
Of blood left seeping into unforgiving cement
Nothing left but these eyes staring childish
This grin accepting what's next
*Hold Me* 10/15/2012
Sixteen soldiers can reannimate an idol
Revolutionary violence and study go hand in hand
More you are willing to die for revolution
More you will deepen knowledge seeking solution
Take torture remake it strengthen off it
Make death poetic end agitational statement
Let young know can kill flesh that's all
Live on in essays, hearts, minds poetically immortal
Bodily hungers surpassed by those for the people
Switching objectives scientifically as needed
Sniffing air ascertaining fear to target into
Lowered shoulders heightens heart rate like pow wow drum
Shrouded facial pain beneath sweat slicked skin
Veins in forearms like mighty root digging in
Body, mind willing as heart begins skipping beat
Everythings your last, better make finale' sweet
Internal laughter as suited swine tighten torture
Hurt me motherfuckers, that's right hurt me more
Return in kind in future all you can create
Build in this body and mind more reason to hate
Love for women diseased patriarchy thus far prevents
Causes this masculine skin objective to invent
Grey matter in back and brain tuned into species
Able to hold future in nerve cell prior to creating
Underneath these stars prison hallogens prevent seeing
Beside this mountain razor wire prevents touching
Progression knows these phenomenon are within reach
Must build and break superstructure slowly for offspring
Become beacon broadcasting intermittent energy
Huddle into this rock naked Morse Code like being
Fits and starts with fingers on insanities pulse
Control Unit Solitary I.M.U. creates and destroys me
Like suicide bomber blowing building then disappearing
Live like its my last breath modern day revolutionary
Live like revolutionary woman sleeps soundly beside me
Future exists already in the blood of our youth
Beware poisons young comrade as they enhance what you can't do
Learned one thing, isolation increases equal to ones progression
More one stands alone more you only count on you
Now bury these bones beside the rest and keep on
Masculine pain reearthed into feminine embrace
*Revolutionary* 09/28/2012
I eat when I'm hungry
I sleep when I'm tired
I do what i must do to survive
I train my body on a schedule
Wash myself only when dirty
My life is geared on slowly die
I sweep the floor daily
Cleanliness becomes best friend
Wrists chapped from rinsing underwater
I agitate like its my last essay
Chew bologni like its T-bone steak
Fresh black top laid outside plexi-glass
My red carpet for upcoming release
Air vents unplugged every centimeter
Cement shines like glistening emerald
Goatee and mustache twisted perfectly
Ponytail ponied beneath bleached bandana
Ingrown toenail removed with staple
Paranoia and pain eased by sweat
My mail feels sealed by monarchs
Opening each letter revealing seven secrets
Licking shut letters like building pyramid
Scribbling zip codes like death row pardons
Cucumber soap dances with ink fragrance
Scientific wind chime causes voices to sing
Mountain out window a clenched fist
Cold chills on skin standing ovation
Perfectly placed necessities spell combinations
Only hung peach blossom goddesses unlock
Voice box underground with months of disuse
Forebrain sizzling synapses to wrists
Pointer middle finger and thumb revolution
Scribbling game plans geographically induced
Pass out periodically easing tension in back
Body will tell you when its tired
Masculine skin requires imaginative attention
Cinder block shades sparkle in sun reflection
Lenin's tomb photo remembers ones past
Oxford dictionary thumbed well like hammer
Curl water-weighted mattress like swinging sickle
Sweat dripped cement smelling of earth
Stainless steel glistening with bleach
Live like everything holding me pushes me
Like the long march and Maos Arabian mounts withers
Trample these pigs smiling beside me
*Cultural Kinetics* 09/17/2012
Blood runs onto cold cement
Tears drip into plastic pillow
Heart squeezes this pain through tired vein
Brain surveys insane like thundercloud to rain
Back bent twisted inward loud popping twinges
Knees crack then snap, dying by inches
Stomach attacks hourly chewed on like bone
Kicked knee bends back, it just won't let go
When this pen bleeds beautifully creatively agitating
And this skin seeps salt creating my animation
Eyes of the hurricane building body, poem making
Can convince skin its not living alone
Able to outwit bourgeois nervous system
More one hurts because what kin created
More one wants to see kin failing
Technological advancements enhancing suffering
Take technology advance revolutionary beginning
Outwit halfwit palefaced sneering mustaches
Outlive fat fucks then recruit sons and daughters
Smile to those not believing solitary cell burning bright
Laser to lantern pigs better fear the night
String from sock hangs staple from letter
Revolutionary art spinning circles round recycled air
Find comfort in length and weight of uncut hair
Rusty steel door covered in postage stamps
Toothpaste sealed off infestation
Perpetual calander decades in advance waiting
Steady strengthen each second buried in isolation
*BORN AGAIN* 10/29/2012
From a womb to a room to a cell to a grave
From darkness to sun to darkness and death
Hurts me to breathe already at thirty
I hurt digesting, tasting--- hurts being me
Heart has been busted, breaks each second passing
Give me a gun and I'd end it, my truth, no laughing
Hurts walking, sitting, sleeping and thinking
Hurts me wondering why i hurt you for hurting me
She plays when dead serious, lies behind her loving
These eyes see deceiving and leaving in her believing
Pain from cradle to grave shoveled on me all sides
Worst part is people believe hurting me will save me
Been like this since birth, tough love, tough life
When all along looking for reason in real eyes
Read my gravestone curled fetal in bed at night
Feel those standing over me more question mark than cry
Even in all this desolation do not want to die
Do not want to play-act living society beside
Belong buried between two stages barely alive
This why remaining locked down deep inside
Doesn't bother building excuses to remain reasons why
Autopsy reveal brain, stomach, heart tumors
Notice doubled up nerve endings and vein capacity
Stomach twisted knots eating holes bloody lumpy
Spine cracked several places held together just barely
Knee tendons snapped so much numbed beyond nerves
Pupils nearsighted never looking beyond bricks
Died from deadly disease didn't know he was sick
Used to tremors, twitches, quivers, deadly bodily twinges
Frequent flyer miles sitting pretending living
Smile rictus no humor left in these teeth
Everything beyond this second too much to believe
Steady struggle with this feeling all i am capable
Gotta make it till tomorrow, survive it till mail call
Dwell on dead buried beings become brainwaves
He was my age, she was pretty, both bones now eternity sleeping
Will have nails filed perfect with teeth gleaming
All that brushing for nothing when worms begin feeding
Sleep dreams regress childhood places and memories
Gone back not forward welcome to institutionalizing
When reason to live taken build reasons not to die
Seasons drag like decades as years fly by
Monday today begins week of daylight savings
Dead walk hallows eve with millions captured waiting
Paceing, trick or treating, societies monsters or those imitating
Take candy for now before pigs begin chasing
Take pork young thug before broken entombed waiting
Comrades forgive unintentional cruelty lacking humanity
When like this eating self sometimes passes on chewing
So many buried before me, so many after
So like our bourgeois upbringing thinking one matters
Let one poem reach one poetic youthful revolutionary soldier
Allow one essay to create insight in future agitator
Spent life living for future being slowly devoured by my past
Been damned since birth, genesis all builders of life

Wednesday, 9 September 2015

* Hert * 09/09/2015

I wish to pass from this existance
My only fault is i began to believe
Was taken and molded into compliant form
Starry eyed dispersing every particle towards her

Now i sit in this house alone
It was all for her
Feel like a fool of the utmost
How could i be taken
Why do i sit waiting for more

In the window listening for her car
Rearranging things perfectly on the off chance
Her favorite box of crackers on the counter waiting unopened
Her favorite expensive Starbucks brand coffee
Tilted just so to catch the dying light

I knew this day would come
Undone completely in every aspect
I've proven my point that i could
Could my heartbeat now let me go

Can my family understand that my hurt
Unnumbed like the rest i sat smoldering
And i shouldered the moments you all escaped
Like a champ but I'm through please

Carry my body with your drunken steps
Drop my casket into the grass
With your atrophied limbs and sickly breaths
Let me go for once

Euelogize your son not for what he's done
But what he didn't
Because i lasted for the fact of learning
Something worth mourning
And she was the one

Found her and lost her as is life
I just want one more night in paradise
Assuge this pain that's been tearing at me
This hurt that's written plain behind the soberest
Greenest, saddest eyes the worlds ever seen

Now take me into your inky blackness
Like your pupils or the dark cleft of skin
Between uneven appendages porcelained
Protruding second big toe obscene

Like my poisoned blood and shrinking brain
Like the violence just inches away
Like if i could of just known it would end this way

Tuesday, 8 September 2015

*Curtain Call* 09/08/2015

The problem with a person who writes is every new creation must top his or her last creation.
If you think about it too much it fucks with creativity.
I'm sitting here, man, at the very edge of everything I've experienced. I'm broken down. Eventually the table of life just tips. Too much weight. My major problem is the time clocks and gas meters ticking off time and cents. Fuck you. Fuck your measly system of sticks and carrots.
I've got a girl in mexico waiting on Visas for her and her two children's return. Me and her were inseperable for eight months. And I've not seen her in two weeks.
Part of me understands she's really here, in the states, but she's avoiding me because i became too obsessed.
Reality is smashed upon me. My uncle Randall, who has struggled with schizophrenia his whole life, and diabetes, is just a pale, staring mute being led around by my limping, cancer fighting, 80 year old grandfather. My brother, an intravenous heroin and Christal meth user, just went to prison for at least five years. My father, an alcoholic who once took so much of the Anabuse alcoholic drug that supposedly cures the " disease" , that he was paralyzed, walks around town drunk, picking fights with everyone. My other uncle can be seen blowing on his alcohol interlock device in his truck, a machine that prevents anyone who had beer on their breath from driving, or driving his other truck without the device.
The dead or dying. I've not even drank a beer or a joint in ten years. Granted, i spent ten years in prison. Been on parole two years. Just completed it.

The charade. When all i want to do is look into her eyes one last time. Feel her skin.
I'm just this insane prick. This 33 year old man that's destined to go batshit. Its my turn to accept the baton. To run my guts out. Fuck.
I'm going to the university of Utah for hepatitas treatments soon as I'm insuranceless and they need guinea pigs.
I don't know anymore. I wanted to help my lady get her papers. To get her children their papers. To be legal. To be citizens. Its what she wanted. She wanted to get our own place. Now I'm in this place alone. Waiting.
I'm this over cleaner. This over organizer. This person with three abodes i look after.
Its a fucking trip. The heart beateth no matter what.
What's real. What is the truth?
Everyone has their truth. Can i create my own truth or the truth of others? And isnt it all just tied into money. Money and truth. Truth in money.
You can buy truth. You can buy someone's time.
Bought people.
The purpose? Is there reason in this?
Am i this disfigured face, sexually spectrumed, anti social, institutionalized, crazy man for a reason?
We just want to be told we are sometimes. That we have purpose. Meaning. . .
What's expected of me after all that time in a solitary cell? I mean goddamn. You should see her. The beauty. I was the most unalone I've ever been. I'm caught up. Wantless and Waiting. Seeking more from something that's been gone for so long. On the edge of abyss knowing, just KNOWING, I'm the puppet of puppeteers with their own purposes. Slowly ingraining me with their meanings. Carefully skirting the sad possibility which is me.
The don't look at hims, snide under breaths. Hands over the mouth. Behind backs and behind the scenes. Just wanting a moments clarity to show me what I've suspected all along. That I'm just this experiment experiencing what I'm meant not what I've been dealt.
Dealing with this. The deepest which is only shallowness. The meaning which is meaninglessness. The voices of the voiceless become delusions of the disillusioned lumpen proletariat. The chain the only thing left to lose in this society of depressed lifeless. Welcome to our world. The specieless, emotionless wrecks. Where workings all we've got left and dyings shamefull.
Guilty of loving too much unto the death. Maybe the whole purpose right there. Love Death.

Thursday, 3 September 2015

*Lolligaggin* 09/03/2015

The throbbing in your right abdomen persists. Its the sign of impending death. What to do... What to do... What to do.
Immobility eases it some. Its funny, i lauded myself for so long for my ability to keep a clear head and equanimity through anything. Now i feel like a drowning rag doll most of the time.
And the nightmares. The waking up suddenly after four hours sleep to full body cramps. Just want to lay here but i get hungry...
I go around. See people. People i knew. But... I guess people i KNOW (?) Why is everything in past tense now? Like i used to this. I used to that. Even as i do it i used to do it.
Found myself at the liqueur store the other day after my doctors appointment. But it didn't open till noon. It was 8am. I don't drink. I shouldn't really. I get crazy.
Vegas sounds real good.
I wish to remain clearheaded as possible through it all as its getting real crazy deep lately. Its like tasty. Life has become tasty. I'm savoring the tragedy around me. Its everywhere. Pain, sorrow, confusion. Yummy.
If you try to avoid it'll get below your skin. Not good. Savor, buddy. Taste, retch but do not swallow.
It's all a game basically feels like. Like, ya, there's purpose to it all somewhere but fuck if i know what it is. Its just like checkpoints are crossed and i acknowledge them with a tip of the hat and continue. Onward. Always forward into the mist.
I've did it. Everything set out finished. Done. Stick a fork in me.
Fingers itch knowing the grand finale is nigh.
The damn graveyard doesn't seem very comfortable though anymore. I used to go there after work when i used to walk. Now i figure to become missing but presumed sounds funner. To find some blue lake to be found in as skelaton. Poetry.
Everytime i end something completely something begins completely. Its why i enjoy startings and finale's.
Poems, relationships, steaks.
Shits getting wild in the Rockies motherfuckers. Better hold on.