*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
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.
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.
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.
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