*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
Again
Begin pretendin bangin overweight
Seekin somethin odorless
Someone conscious
Enough not to base life on numb
Unconsciousness
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
Motherfuckers
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
Adolescents
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
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....
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....
Monday, 27 January 2014
* Attorney Request* 01.27.2014
Seeking legal help on two cases i filed on the Utah State Prison while held captive in its Control unit solitary unit Uintah One from 2003 to 2013. Green v Downs 2:12-cv-00432 deals with Due Process, first amendment violations and cruel and unusual punishmwnt in that i filed many grievances on gaurd misconduct which led to Captive suicides. Documenting abuses like starvation, sleep deprivation and verbal and mental abuse. The caseworker, Downs, useed these grievances againstme when i went to the parole board and i got a bad review. He lawfully cannot do that. Green v Galetka 2:12-cv-00600-cw deals with basically the same as Prison Legal News v Lehman, which is censorship in solitary confinement being against the first amendment. Not related to peneological interest. Please fellow progressive minded individuals log onto pacer and give me any legal help you can, or pointers, anything. Respectfully, I blog at Brandongreensblog.blogspot.com
Sunday, 26 January 2014
*Waiting For* 01.26.2014
Ten years fast-forwarded
Everyones aged but you
Gone, Lost, Stolen, you name it
Everyones lived but you
Seeing those you babysat babysitting
The faces of friends shrunk
Bodies buried, decomposing, decimated
The faces of friends dust
And then you see people strugglin
With life, love and happiness
Cant help but laugh when
One who by all rights shouldnt have made it
Makes it
Bodies caffinated, in cells breaking muscles
Regenerating
Sweat puddles and dust dated
Like the day they layed you down
To the firing squad
Silently celebrated
Warehouses of grease stained cement
Made to forget those who never forget
All comes down to the minute
People envision what its like
One second knowing ten to go
Home becomes the enemy haunting
Becoming uneasy off your matress, out of cage
Fight tooth and nail to remain
Cuddling softly
Comfortable chains
Seeing a female in a photo
You wish you were there
Then you get here and they disappear
Because you were there
To this uneasiness feeling not at work
As if nine and a half hours a day
Moving to the rythems of interstate freeways
Caged mattress-wishing replaced
4:21 a.m. in that cell i trained
Wrote massive 46 page letters
Waiting for my bologni sandwich
Counting the years not the days
4:23 a.m. "The killers" on radio play
Cross legged as always tapping keys
Thoroughly potty-trained by the system
I sit urine-clean of all substance, mind mush from exhaustion
Waiting for payday
Everyones aged but you
Gone, Lost, Stolen, you name it
Everyones lived but you
Seeing those you babysat babysitting
The faces of friends shrunk
Bodies buried, decomposing, decimated
The faces of friends dust
And then you see people strugglin
With life, love and happiness
Cant help but laugh when
One who by all rights shouldnt have made it
Makes it
Bodies caffinated, in cells breaking muscles
Regenerating
Sweat puddles and dust dated
Like the day they layed you down
To the firing squad
Silently celebrated
Warehouses of grease stained cement
Made to forget those who never forget
All comes down to the minute
People envision what its like
One second knowing ten to go
Home becomes the enemy haunting
Becoming uneasy off your matress, out of cage
Fight tooth and nail to remain
Cuddling softly
Comfortable chains
Seeing a female in a photo
You wish you were there
Then you get here and they disappear
Because you were there
To this uneasiness feeling not at work
As if nine and a half hours a day
Moving to the rythems of interstate freeways
Caged mattress-wishing replaced
4:21 a.m. in that cell i trained
Wrote massive 46 page letters
Waiting for my bologni sandwich
Counting the years not the days
4:23 a.m. "The killers" on radio play
Cross legged as always tapping keys
Thoroughly potty-trained by the system
I sit urine-clean of all substance, mind mush from exhaustion
Waiting for payday
Sunday, 12 January 2014
*Scared Inarticulate Tongue-Tied Rabbits* #01-12-2014#
Maybe i am that... Now. But it is because i have to be. Im playing along with this free world shit. Going along. And its been six months since i walked out those prison gates, leg-chained and wrists-chained. I must be doing something right by being so wrong in the eyes of comrades.
Theres a cup of extreme caffine cappacino coursing through my veins. I drink coffee at night when i get off work. Usually only on my fridays, my weekends. I got 101 hours on my last paycheck. Thats 21 hours overtime. The DMV 1,000.00 fine is paid off. My 85 chevy has a new windshield, brakes and license plates. I responded to Green v. Downs two days ago. Im not fuckin around. Not a single cigarrette or beer has passed these lips.
I have a smart phone with all these APPs and constantly listen to music, even as i sleep. My nephews jump and holler my name each time they see me. For christmas i put new brakes on my moms car. Im looking to buy a house.
This is impossible, im not meant to make it. The courts actually waited six months to respond to my lawsuits, in hopes id spin out and die or end up incommunicado in some cell somewhere. I responded to this last motion the very next day, after i got off work at midnight to 4 a.m., i hand wrote and hand copied six pages.
I learned that after i paroled the Disability Law Center filed suit on Uinta One and the Utah State Prison for them using military death gas grenades on solitary, mentally-ill captives. All those i knew in those dungeons still sit tortured, 24 hours locked down. Across the country gay marriage and marijuana legalization has taken hold while the prison system is put to the wayside and forgotten about. These high school kids, whom i work with at my job, part-time workers in their late teens, look at me in disbelief when i say i spent the last ten years in a cell. But the scary thing is their lack of knowledge about amerikkas injustice system.
I told my nephew that amerikkan soldiers are the terrorists. That the only reason we are in the middle east is because corporations want their investments protected. I tell women all the time that no, i do not seek a relationship with you because i dont believe in oppressing you. It saddens them. My nephew wants to be a soldier anyway. Cool weapons, he says. Why are you so cold, she says.
Training i still do every week. Squats and pushups one week. Curls and shrugs the next. No poetry. some part of me is at a loss to develop the three poems a week i used to do. I imagine it is the music i listen to that takes the place of my inner dialogue that used to churn out rhymes.
It is an anniversary of sorts, this day, this moment.
Completion of everything i said i would do as i sat in that solitary cell looking out that crack they call a window, breathing that smelly, peppersprayed H20 they call air. It could all go to pot at a moments notice. I am super vigilant about whom i affiliate with. Im surprised the pigs havent tripped me up. Each time i hear keys rattle or see a cop car i get a jolt of adrenaline. I believe this will be with me for life.
So im going to set new goals this night, like a passport and pictures beneath the Eiffel Tower. Laying beneath a field of tulips in Holland and running from a red kangaroo in Australlia. Visiting MT. Kilamajaro and swimming in the Yellow River of China. But more importantly watching laws enacted state by state that reform the oppressive prison system. Witnessing the crumbling of the new Great Britain that has become Amerikka and the beginning of a new age...
But im afraid these laws wont occur, that its going to have to grow, maybe double in size and calamity before any Highschoolers notice, before marriage and recreational use of substances can be overshadowed with the main, true issue afflicting this country, the world. I.E. Solitary Confinement and the Death Penalty used as a tool to silence those who choose not to remain quiet. Dissenters forgotten and villified with "criminal" stigmas. Made less than human in the eyes of the world. So those in control, the bourgeois military complex and oil corporations twiddling the strings of each and every politician and president; The banks and genetically modified poison food buisnesses who control what goes in our mouths and pockets... Can control. Can Kill slowly with APR, warmongering, miles per gallon, flouride, and flouresant oranges.
There is this game that a Highschooler showed me that you can download onto your smart phone. It consists of an unseen energy that emits from historical sites all across the world. The Enlightened and The Resistance seek to control this energy. One to use its power to change Humankind, the other to contain this energy and keep it from affecting our species. for fear of what could happen.
GPS is used to pinpoint your precise location and nearness to portals. You are supposed to go and set up force fields at certain locations and protect them from the other side. People travel across states to each town to set up these cordons and return home and control them.
When i saw this kids eyes light up at the actions hed taken to uphold these imaginary beliefs in an imaginary war, imaginary worlds created by the oppressor, like Facebook and PS2 war video games, i felt extreme concern and sadness for the species, for our future. He doesnt realize this game is real and the portals are Prison Gates and Police Acadamies. That the enlightened are in chains or in hiding or buried in pine boxes in forgotten graves, veins filled with Sodium Penathol, hearts with 30.30 holes from Firing Squads.
The resistance controls the television and minds of the world. Republican Or Democrat, millionaire both. Our food, our air, resistance tainted. Our lives planned before we are even born, to live and die a slave to timeclocks, bills and stale dreams of Freedom and Happiness.
Our hutches filled with Flatscreens, our pockets emmitting squeeks, clips of country songs as ring tones and radiation. Chewing on our glowing carrotts, growing cancers inside that will leave our grandchildren paying medical bills. We put up our seasonal decorations that signify the best this society has to offer. To consume to the tune of our doom. Dumbed down, lop-eared, idiot rabbits waiting for the baseball bat to the back of the head. We sit, huge eyed, staring at the bars of our cages, wondering...
Whens the Savior going to return, which plants can we legally burn and can Jim and Joe be sealed in the church, sharing tax returns.
Death row captives eyes reflecting the flames of the Amerikkan dream as their breathing stops in front of packed bleachers of witnesses. The slow, painful heartbeats of all solitary captives sweeping floors for the fifth time this day, so many psychotropics coursing through their veins that they wish the pig, who murdered his neighbor the day before, good morning, as he serves him his 4500-th bologni sandwich.
Champagne toasts to state murder are testament to the deterioration of this society. Suicides in the military and the minds broken from solitary confinement. But some of us squeeze through the bars, broken bones and all, and manage to avoid the weasels. Wearing the fur of the enemy one can blend in...
To all those sleeping beneath the hallogens this night, on fifteen minute suicide checks, starved, atrophied, hopeless. Taped shut, stapled alive.
Theres a cup of extreme caffine cappacino coursing through my veins. I drink coffee at night when i get off work. Usually only on my fridays, my weekends. I got 101 hours on my last paycheck. Thats 21 hours overtime. The DMV 1,000.00 fine is paid off. My 85 chevy has a new windshield, brakes and license plates. I responded to Green v. Downs two days ago. Im not fuckin around. Not a single cigarrette or beer has passed these lips.
I have a smart phone with all these APPs and constantly listen to music, even as i sleep. My nephews jump and holler my name each time they see me. For christmas i put new brakes on my moms car. Im looking to buy a house.
This is impossible, im not meant to make it. The courts actually waited six months to respond to my lawsuits, in hopes id spin out and die or end up incommunicado in some cell somewhere. I responded to this last motion the very next day, after i got off work at midnight to 4 a.m., i hand wrote and hand copied six pages.
I learned that after i paroled the Disability Law Center filed suit on Uinta One and the Utah State Prison for them using military death gas grenades on solitary, mentally-ill captives. All those i knew in those dungeons still sit tortured, 24 hours locked down. Across the country gay marriage and marijuana legalization has taken hold while the prison system is put to the wayside and forgotten about. These high school kids, whom i work with at my job, part-time workers in their late teens, look at me in disbelief when i say i spent the last ten years in a cell. But the scary thing is their lack of knowledge about amerikkas injustice system.
I told my nephew that amerikkan soldiers are the terrorists. That the only reason we are in the middle east is because corporations want their investments protected. I tell women all the time that no, i do not seek a relationship with you because i dont believe in oppressing you. It saddens them. My nephew wants to be a soldier anyway. Cool weapons, he says. Why are you so cold, she says.
Training i still do every week. Squats and pushups one week. Curls and shrugs the next. No poetry. some part of me is at a loss to develop the three poems a week i used to do. I imagine it is the music i listen to that takes the place of my inner dialogue that used to churn out rhymes.
It is an anniversary of sorts, this day, this moment.
Completion of everything i said i would do as i sat in that solitary cell looking out that crack they call a window, breathing that smelly, peppersprayed H20 they call air. It could all go to pot at a moments notice. I am super vigilant about whom i affiliate with. Im surprised the pigs havent tripped me up. Each time i hear keys rattle or see a cop car i get a jolt of adrenaline. I believe this will be with me for life.
So im going to set new goals this night, like a passport and pictures beneath the Eiffel Tower. Laying beneath a field of tulips in Holland and running from a red kangaroo in Australlia. Visiting MT. Kilamajaro and swimming in the Yellow River of China. But more importantly watching laws enacted state by state that reform the oppressive prison system. Witnessing the crumbling of the new Great Britain that has become Amerikka and the beginning of a new age...
But im afraid these laws wont occur, that its going to have to grow, maybe double in size and calamity before any Highschoolers notice, before marriage and recreational use of substances can be overshadowed with the main, true issue afflicting this country, the world. I.E. Solitary Confinement and the Death Penalty used as a tool to silence those who choose not to remain quiet. Dissenters forgotten and villified with "criminal" stigmas. Made less than human in the eyes of the world. So those in control, the bourgeois military complex and oil corporations twiddling the strings of each and every politician and president; The banks and genetically modified poison food buisnesses who control what goes in our mouths and pockets... Can control. Can Kill slowly with APR, warmongering, miles per gallon, flouride, and flouresant oranges.
There is this game that a Highschooler showed me that you can download onto your smart phone. It consists of an unseen energy that emits from historical sites all across the world. The Enlightened and The Resistance seek to control this energy. One to use its power to change Humankind, the other to contain this energy and keep it from affecting our species. for fear of what could happen.
GPS is used to pinpoint your precise location and nearness to portals. You are supposed to go and set up force fields at certain locations and protect them from the other side. People travel across states to each town to set up these cordons and return home and control them.
When i saw this kids eyes light up at the actions hed taken to uphold these imaginary beliefs in an imaginary war, imaginary worlds created by the oppressor, like Facebook and PS2 war video games, i felt extreme concern and sadness for the species, for our future. He doesnt realize this game is real and the portals are Prison Gates and Police Acadamies. That the enlightened are in chains or in hiding or buried in pine boxes in forgotten graves, veins filled with Sodium Penathol, hearts with 30.30 holes from Firing Squads.
The resistance controls the television and minds of the world. Republican Or Democrat, millionaire both. Our food, our air, resistance tainted. Our lives planned before we are even born, to live and die a slave to timeclocks, bills and stale dreams of Freedom and Happiness.
Our hutches filled with Flatscreens, our pockets emmitting squeeks, clips of country songs as ring tones and radiation. Chewing on our glowing carrotts, growing cancers inside that will leave our grandchildren paying medical bills. We put up our seasonal decorations that signify the best this society has to offer. To consume to the tune of our doom. Dumbed down, lop-eared, idiot rabbits waiting for the baseball bat to the back of the head. We sit, huge eyed, staring at the bars of our cages, wondering...
Whens the Savior going to return, which plants can we legally burn and can Jim and Joe be sealed in the church, sharing tax returns.
Death row captives eyes reflecting the flames of the Amerikkan dream as their breathing stops in front of packed bleachers of witnesses. The slow, painful heartbeats of all solitary captives sweeping floors for the fifth time this day, so many psychotropics coursing through their veins that they wish the pig, who murdered his neighbor the day before, good morning, as he serves him his 4500-th bologni sandwich.
Champagne toasts to state murder are testament to the deterioration of this society. Suicides in the military and the minds broken from solitary confinement. But some of us squeeze through the bars, broken bones and all, and manage to avoid the weasels. Wearing the fur of the enemy one can blend in...
To all those sleeping beneath the hallogens this night, on fifteen minute suicide checks, starved, atrophied, hopeless. Taped shut, stapled alive.
You are smarter than the oppressor and stronger. Keep that in mind.
Fearless Intelligent Articulate Enlightened Rise Up!
We will win!
And until then we will smile slyly at you beneath your skin...
Monday, 9 December 2013
*HUMANIST HIGH-GROUND* 12.09.2013
you know, this feeling is death
like an assassinated presidents
brains sitting in the lap of his wife
still warm, exciting, like
where you been
you know, this well-being feeling is illusion
like a country worm eaten
with prisons and mass caskets waiting
cities stricken, S.W.A.T. cordoned
crack quieted, as the countryside sits awake
months, spun, pigs and horses
you know, the feeling i felt in that cell
that never could anything ever work out
that some basic thing inside was broke
that THE MAN was out to get
and i would die all alone hepatitis sick
pulled back from this by a bracelet
of rosemary in the mid-east
walking back and forth on pristine cement
to crunching home in 15 below
you know a part of you, but which?
survived it
so today im to the library, to the mountain
this body that has held his nephew
and a womans body smelling of expensive perfume
this body that performs same exercise
same sets, same sweat
you know, ive stumbled politically because
so much here vying for attentions
ill admit to entertaining the consumerist
sex sparkled, side tracks
but i was given life because of politics
a revolutionary death, buried in red flag, hated
by the labor aristocrat amerikkan
spit upon by the four hundred pound
embraced by the ninety
this ones for the 500 million starved annually
first world casualties
facebook stupid, pornography jaded
bullshit propaganda couched in sarcasm
motherfuck your cliches and moral high-grounds
your repetitive rich puppet elections
from deify to hated
again and again...
bourgeois weaken as my nephews
strengthen
die a martyr or lie bloody
felled by your own people for imperialist corporations
bloody puppet brains useless
like your nation of white supremacist
labor aristocrats on vicoden
anti-psychotics and anti-depressants
Thursday, 14 November 2013
*Story Truth* 11.14.2013
Once upon a time these simian earthlings evolved from trilobites into amazing creatures that knew rockets, nuclear fission and genomes. But the stupid creatures allowed degenerate rulers to mindwash them and keep them as sheep; to halt evolution of the mind. With things like drugs, religion and fear.
The rulers made relationships so futile and unsatisfying that the sheeple suffered more than any other time of their existence. This pain clouded the vision of the populace and left them seeking Mr right or Ms perfect instead of rising the fuck up for the sake of future generations. If people progress the pigs take them out. Solitary confinement, lethal injection and pariah status. Like working mcdonalds.
The point is to find those who wish to dedicate theirselves to evolution and the human species as a whole. the point is to begin what our children must finish.
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