I never

I never liked reading poetry,

And maybe actually you’re like me, that you never really concentrate too well when it is spoken aloud.

So maybe this is an ode to the times when minor words, minor sentences make more sense than the entire composition

First of all (and this has no bearing on the entire poem):“Rude awakenings are simply rude awakenings”

I don’t really care if you understand

Though I do want you to like it.

That’s a bit of a paradox then.

It’s just like saying: “I want to be liked for not giving a shit about you”

Are you my enemy then?

Should I remember that I’m in a competition to be cared about?

If you are my enemy, then are we afraid of each other?

I leave you to think about that.

It’s really no care of mine that you like what I write about.

Though I do hope you very much like the way it rolls out the tongue.

tonight as we were

Tonight as we were waiting for eating

As we were sitting in the car.

Mind you, we turned off the car engine so as to not waste gas, so as to not waste the ecosystem

We thought and thought of our predicament. Our salty and thirstful taste in our mouths of once again, this thought:

Are we living in wretchedness? The fact of the matter is that we felt stale, worries of tomorrow, filled this car coffin. I press against this gas inducer. I try to find enough work. It’s not hard living, just stuck within the black tar and carpet and stove.

Nothing practical my worker bees said, “you do nothing practical, for today, for tomorrow”

So I ask you, Feel me like I am. All I do is think, and think and think and think…

One thing I have found from thinking, and that is that it leads to questioning. Questioning leads to ideas, ideas to action, action to change and finally, it leads to more thinking .

So does it lead to a life or wretchedness? Yes it very well does. I have no other thing to give to the world than to think of things to think about. I feel wretched. I feel found yes, but it is of no use since it is an impractical way of living.

My solution? I think to think. I’ll die thinking. Thinking I am? No I am not. In fact after this life of mine, whether I make my mark on the world is of no matter. Gone like tomorrow, here like yesterday.

So I thought of dying, and it was beautiful. I thought of living, and it was beautiful too. I thought about falling and flying and grieving and laughing, these things make thy human. No, sex does not beget humanness, it only makes you horny, which is a very good place to be instead.

Beauty then seems to be the only thing we live for. This is the thought I had. Beauty is enough to stop the pain, until obviously; you find beauty in the pain. And it’s enough to stop the boredom, until obviously; you find beauty in the boredom.

god loves the rosy cheeks that met me

Unknowingly she wrote on a train marked for Los Angeles: 13:45 5 of April

god loves the rosy cheeks that met me
god loves that ugliness
yeah, he loves to joke around me
sit, and slap my face.
He also loves me
to the point of giving me everything.
he lives within us
he lives without us
and i wonder why he's everybody.
why the one i kiss
can send me to deepest of hells
why the one in my reflection
well, his name is Zeus and you're just my pawn
we're in Ilium and the best you could be is Achilles
god hates me as well
i know he's plagued me quite a few times
I know of every place, and i know of tornadoes
such a beautiful sight....or so it looks to be
but god is dead....

things haven't changed.

The Rain Puddles a Bus

The rain puddles a bus,
"pull to signal"
and the enormous weight that drowns
my intimidated self
coincides with breathing
of my next seat neighbor.
like blurry lights
while out of focus...

this sounds of exhaust churning,
this smells like a special transport of cigarette smoke filled lungs.
and the over precaution of the time we lose...
just sitting here

here i am, with my twisted self reliance...

talking about a dog I put

On Jul 11 1:10 PM 2009

talking about a dog
I put it in very sweet
i hold a record of not sweating the stuff
fucker could hold me down for milliseconds and not care that i grabbed his whore by the neck
twisted her fingers, and called her a cunt
but his rust induced labored breathing runs through my eyes
and i begin to cough his dirty scent.
no more kicking the kids as they pass by the street
no more idling the cans of beers strewn across the porch
he's old and tired
I tell him, "you got mind to forget you about to die"
as his eyes red, and he holds my neck collar.
i could tell he's hanging on for his dear life
my young eyes see bombs and destruction
his old eyes see burned babies
right between the eyes
but he's stuck the knife in between my belly
i got no sense of right and wrong
he's got no sense of dying.

enjoy

enjoy
your rest
i got a bet
to live under a tree
is the best to ever be
and to flatten the ground
will leave the world round
so enjoy while we ship
beautify it like shit
enjoy

traps live in every other door

traps live in every other door ----------------(eyes looking straight)
like from the bottom, -----------------------(shiny mopped floor)
when i was standing -------------------------(shiny black shoes)
on the stage, -------------------------------(shiny reflecting the lights)
and they grabbed my neck --------------------(pain seems starry)
dragged me down, -------------------------(everyone moves up)
like part of the act. ------------------------(everyone grows a twisted stick)
oh it hurt! -------------------------(i can't see my nose)
seemingly puppet like. --------------------(I can see my arms)
dragged by my strings -----------(I can't see my hair)
i could taste the steps. ------------------(they're black and grey)
sat me down -------------------------(that's a nice chair)
tied me down ------------------------(striped pants)

is this death, or the end of the act?
water for my tongue

now...lost....again.....it's gone

my veins seem like ravines
curling my fist
to hit you
the drums play anticipating the end
it never comes tomorrow or today
and sometimes it stops
to realize peace
but it starts again
because it never wants to end
that would be stupid
wouldn't it?

old man

I swear I saw this old man three times today
this is just like street ballet
his coat is as ragged as his walk
his pillow isn't sometimes just a block
and all the world does what it may
like mornings made from balled up clay
newspapers in tow for a brand new valley
like stories from behind the alley

this old man stands
and walks the lands
never gives an eye
to when he might die


his brain is the smashed entity
and no longer his identity
it's in front and under my car
distant to me but isn't so far
as the blood trickled
and my machine was tickled
seventy-five percent water
against the rest of the slaughter


the fact that I disturbed nothing
and still broke his cling
made it seem unfair
yet we all still seem to bear
like we all seem to care

honor

I hear him speak delicate wind in my face
said we should die honorably
later, he died alone in said way
after which I died saying nothing

minutos antes de salir

....................... a
hill as hilly
as winter coats
delicate chaos
under warmth of my baby sister
grabbing the sleeves
since it's a cold ground
crawling over her adventure
never tiring
today
my tomorrow

she doesn't know
who knows if care at all
and I am over there
looking
from a corner
whispering nothing
just observing
as she crawls back
towards me

and back again
to the hills
never leaving
the warmth of this drywalled harbor
no where to go
it's snowing
it's raining
and it's never ending
the tracks she leaves.

I don't Care...(45)

I don't care
when i sleep outside
as you keep in tide
write essays well
ring a school's bell

I don't care
turning off the alarm
finding in it no harm
in losing this time
and few other dimes


I don't care
for a complexity
double perplexity
as we look
at all these books

I don't care
at fucking jokes
told by these folks
with their names
resembling games

I don't care

because I don't flair
because all these lairs
have much cheese
that we freeze
wait to eat
wait to need
seven long years
after deceased

all in over, yet, under noses

Severity already grabbed a hold of me yesterday
The ground creaking and the leaves shaking

I'd rather be the animal, slowly creeping towards the hole in the wall.

I sit, arms crossed, looking deep into a space
waiting for an answer, under my shoes, under the chairs

so when I cross the threshold of pain, I can say I did it delicately

plain face and big nosed when i can be...all...
sit next to me, please, give me conversation...a happy thought

people will pass me by while i set out my secret, secret plans...all clandestine acts

nobody do i make proud
nobody do i ever want to be like

that's why I sharpen my claws

they are our mothers
no bother

child

she loves the sweet taste of sap on the tree
scrapes her knee.
run to the house with lemonade in mother's hand
there is no plan.
sunny behind the fence that has no purpose any day
it is just for play.
I don't quite remember what is beyond Houston Drive
she fell and didn't cry
so lying on the grass watching as the clouds always move
nobody dares remove.
so daddy comes from work to live with us for the night
does so with no fight.

His face moves a quick jerk to left, like a twitch, like a glitch on the television screen. saying, "tomorrow is different" twice and then forever. the sound decreases every so slightly for a whole minute until it's gone.
"everyone fights in the morning."
says....."that is the 'yet'"

under respite find me 'neath the still standing tree
and you'll be free.
chase me down the sidewalk path and grab me to embrace
tie the shoelace.
allocate severe worries 'neath tombstones and dead leaves
to be bereaved.
return home, leave the clockwork to die, leave your watch
so they become a blotch.
send for mommy for we will go until the sun breaks the door
we are already poor.
stop the checks for it does not matter to be here.
it is a cause of tears.

Tomorrow never comes. "tomorrow never came" he somberly realized. it went away back to the cave from which it originated from. it went to live with it's family. to it's mommy and daddy. I know it, because i caused it.

Sergeant Elysia

Death is the wisdom my father continued reciting.
instantly it removes all doubt from each ones eye.
I have no guns to remove my enemy.
I have no sympathy for myself.
There is no one here, to watch me cling.

theres no justice,
there never was,
all is win,
and all is war.

tomorrow the sun rises overhead.
mountains and trees shrink as the day grows.
dirt and sand move the ground so invisibly shaken.
the power lines break apart, the energy is so violently mad

do you know what makes the world so agitated?
that it shakes off the dreck off its back?
do you know that with every fight,
does so with the suffering of a breath?

i do believe justice falls when it wants to show off.
but It's more than stories of meteors and volcanoes.
the effect of inertia,
it's too the zenith, the proprietor of intoxication, the nut of the wheel that will fall off.
the foretelling, of melting shoes and broken power hearts

hilly land

January 15, 2008 - Tuesday





the king that married and the pauper that stayed.
left inside his own mind,
I grew increasingly disturbed by the wayside.
She could sing so well, and she could sing so beautifully.
corners of her smile reached their brilliance of the scenery around here.
but when I left, I left to a strange, hilly land.
I said goodbye and that was that. because it was all that I could take.

I'm dangerously inside the world,
inside the hills,
the caves,
inside the streams and the woods.
I had no arms for I had no need,
But I held everything as leaf holds water.
living amongst all like branches that naturally tangle so elegantly
I held gazes, but not to scare you.
that I dont. no I dont.
its too easy to say that I have come empty in all that I carry.
but its so true.

pero, this was not me having
this is me wanting
this is me leaving
this is me surrendering
my heart wants to give it all upall the things that pull it down.
lo que no se quiere ir por ser parte de mi mente!.

Who knew I would be so sensitive when I appeared so put together?
but that was just it.
that was just it

enjoi

January 11, 2008 - Friday

I want to say that without retardation or proudness, i have stolen your words.

everything we want is this destruction; for the first time in weeks I will be kept awake by the fact that I am alive.

and so to end, I enjoy our activities, that cause me to splinter joy that drudgery in work has only polished . we created something new, and exciting. Now I wish I had done it more. but that is that. so soon.

I found that I kept the words of every quote in my heart,
I have no scene or place, i have declassed.
every true expierence now makes my self come fully alive,

the cracked dawn lives forever down cracked sidewalks, along cracked buildings, that the house cracked and broke souls

I started alone..............

Portrait of a Liberty at stake.

December 26, 2007 - Wednesday


A bittersweet love for the floor,
seeing the cold hard rusty nail taken out by the hammer my father built,
In the hut my ancestors restored,
under the same lease, the government wants.
that as I look up to see you open the door,
and light shines in, and my eyes get used to,
though the dust never settles.

It's like hovering my suprise over your smile, and
for a second, it makes me the most unintentional mistake I could ever be.
I was fading there for weeks before you came in and took me.
I was eating the same bread, the same glass, the same unopened doors, the same struggle to keep myself tied to a wall so I would not bend and fall to the chemical infested ground.

I could not see outside the windows for the love of god,
because I spent too much time tying,
myself to the roof
I spent too much time doing that of which I could not live without!
Looking down

And the nitrogen oxide air pollutants that the rain
Never ever washes out.....
These cause a distorted view (only through the sides of my own eyes that is)

People would come in and visit, but it was all very unrelaxed,
and the conversation
was grossly lax.
To me it seemed the fishnet device fell on me......

So I finally fell to floor, onlookers could only gasp!
Drinking that which they could not pick up.
Soaking the muck from their shoes.
Those million dollar shoes.
leaving, they went.
I had only decided.
only, that's it,.... "only"
to see them go

but leaving for you is loving me isn't it?
making my masts a curling tumble
though i see no water to push me aside
i'm a tangled....
but a mess is clean when it's well polished
sort of like prison sex

hardly worthing the time

december 17, 2007
hardly worthing the time


interested in all that I have to leave.
when i leave it is all i have.
because the clock on the river crosses oceans faster and shorter than i want to climb the trees.
and leaves and flowers fall before i have time to paint them.
when worriment outdates me tied to knots sitting on a wet concrete floor, your beautiful eyes can only pass me by.
it tells me where i am in the woods

so can i only become the shadow that follows you?
follows you when the sun sits from behind illuminating my desert path?
because i will.
being that things die, i cant stand here consumed.

porque someday......
I'll learn to give it all away.
without an envy
so i can walk without shoes
on the wet ground of the shore
where we met the first time
and i was only a boy.

te de invierno

the pain of destruction is my giveaway
because like a mushroom cloud, i fly
this is to me the greatest hope ive ever had
unlike the highest skyscraper that ive escalated through several elevators
nonetheless i trapped your sympathy and called you up
no answer or reply but soon saw that i had less more to worry about
i was not happy like a dance but peaceful like a frail
this constitution is far from my heart
and these houses are not built for me
fireplaces and knickknacks sit upon Santa's lap
and i sit lonely in a corner all by myself
but i find openings chiseled away
and crawl through as snow hugs my body like they do trees
my cat walked up and interrupted frighteningly
i found where she had hidden now
and in all her freedom and beauty
she let me in.
and i soon came to join her for a cup o' tea.