*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

* 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

*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.
Whatever.

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.

*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.
Kisses.

* Never Mine Always Hers* 08/30/2015

It was like a whirlwind
Temptuous
And as i sit windless, alone
I miss the feel of the gales bloodily
Tearing away cruelessly at my skin

It was like in eight months
I forgot all about those ten years
Solitary and Alone
But now they're here again
Like sandpaper filled seashells stepped on
By bloody, windblown skin

Never once did she rub my back
The money i made was hers
She even left me on my birthday
Never mine but always her hurt
My concern

Total focus
Now I'm left with nothing except all I'd given up
You can't imagine it
The way her brown eyes conveyed mystery

Asian eyes on latina ass cheeks
Her toes and fingers those of Mayan princess
Hair cascaded down shoulders of an Aztec queen
Her walk the most preciously obscene
Jeans, black eye liner and nail polish

Beyond angelic speaking her new language
Driving her stickshift Tiida in anger
Walking through the door after work in tears
Up and down in constant emotion

I was crushed and beaten with her feelings
It was always too much and never enough
It was she's needy and I've nothing left
Wishing someone can handle her

Wanting to kill anyone who touches her
Touched her so much that now I'm dead
She's gone now a country away
And now I'm here again with my feet on the ground

And i don't like it i want it to stop
Just end please this feeling
Read meaning in these bloody footsteps
Of a man who flew because of a woman
For so long he forgot how to walk

*Shitty Fingers* 08/25/2015

Weight lifting and watering the lawn
Not working to enrich the man anymore
Set on using my wiles to gather others waste
Enough of everything floating around to subsist

Preparing for the worst by relaxing
Letting it happen while muscle builds
Bilking the government for pantry paycheck
Going to use my prison mental upset to get

Manipulate the system until system implodes
Until the land earthquakes into sea
Or falling rock rockets cometesque earthward
Collapsing the tunnelworks hidden like Mormon swearword

Not gonna do it anymore
Playing along with your consumption
The playacting of wanting blasted upon brainstems
With trivial knowledges driveled unto deathishness

Made up histories and make believe futures
So out of reach and out of touch
Beyond retching and explatory motherfucks
Like shitting the only truth we've left

On the comode with the one remaining truth
What goes in must go out
And what empires rise
Must be wiped from the face of the world

Skidmarked like cheap gravestones
Trailing like skelatons behind amerikkan flags
Flushed away like lower class families dads
Imprisoned in noncorrectional sewers

Making it another day in order to flush it
That's it
That's all I've got