I kick rocks while I wear docs
I stay ahead of Stepford & mediocrity;
I get drunk because of sobering thoughts while Americana judges me.

I go against the grain, not to be edgy but because it feels natural to me.
They say I can't fit in with society and if so-
society can *******.

Look at this wonder I create
With more research and black science magic I create more by the day.

I walk in casted shadows to hide away the fact that I'm simply smoke and mirrors.

I have no face to save that's why inside my home every piece of glass you'll find comes from broken mirrors.

But if I work harder by the day then maybe tomorrow I can stop and admire my work but tonight is not that night- so back to my workshop I hide away.

If they could only see my work the way I see it, then maybe things could change- but until that day I'll have to work in secret and show the world just what a genius really is- and if it's only on my terms then so be it.

Yes if it's on my own terms- then that is just the way it must be.

I'm sinking down back to my old friend,
He always gives me what I want.
A needle in the arm and a soft spot to sleep it all away;
Daydreaming in the grass as I nod in and out.

I'd be depressed if I cared.
I'd be clean if I cared.
So set up my rig and let me flush it all away.

No pain under the stars, no thoughts of any kind.

I'm swimming in a pool of my own self indulgence-
China white warms the blood and let me swim in the spoon.

Don't worry about me too much, I'm just doing my own thing for now.

I'd be depressed if I cared, I'd be aware if I cared.

You can buy my luck for a hit, just get me to my dealer.

Sobering thoughts is what led me to the gutter,
I've lived here ever since.

Now my friends are all ghosts and I'm better off in my head;
I'm sleeping off my family and what I remember of my old life,
The sun is setting and it's getting dark but that's alright by me.

This is how it goes if you live in Echo Park

Duality,

I'm the Jekyll to my Hyde, I'm the Poet, the Prophet, the Monster and Man.

Exist in both places, bring the shadow to the show, shine a light and work behind the scenes.

Balance, I maintain the performance. Everday the lines blur, I wave my hand and a trick, I speak out of both sides of my mouth, Edward Mordrake  and Phantom of the Page, written words are my tool, they serve in action of lies and truths that would normally be spat on.

When the light shines I step up and perform, take a bow, tap the mask, a nod to you!

A joy for me is a joy for you, I play the part of victim and villain, I am actor and professional, novice level grandmaster.

A Jester of all trades, every word calculated, every action a movement of stagework.

Masked and unmasked, raw and hyding in plain sight.

I perform for you and when the lights go out, I work in shadow and orchestrate the light.

Entice us with the future
Move to the music

Livin in the past is done and gone now I want somethin new

You call it eclectic
I say that's it electric
Aint got time to lie and hate that's why imma get elected.

Weekend doesn't end when you with the crew-
Hit the street, cruise the strip and let the air in your lungs.

This is the life you always want and but never took, the one you always bordered
I say its just what the doctor ordered.

Bull by the horns
Aint got no time to get caught up in the thorns.

Movin past you, movin up this quality of life
I left the traffic now you late to work
History is written by the winners
its sad for you that you're still missin them chicken dinners.

I move on authority that's how I was raised just to keep
individuality.

The week is here and home is where the heart is,
its why I march to my own drum much like Tommy Lee is .

I spray paint freedom on a wall
make a mural out of self expression
only way to fight through this depression.

Left the mark sayin Kilroy was here
Expressionist like Klee
Marxist like Groucho
I don't wanna rant so I''ll leave that to Harpo.

In these hallowed halls of time gone by- I remember you.

You remember me in the worst of times- being at my best.

You remember the nights we shared together- your head on my chest.

Moving past each other, nameless in our crowd as we have years gone bye.

You remember me at my worst- during our best.

The mirror broke just like the promise.

Seven years bad luck- hard break.

Silver screens  what we remember,
The magic of the show, the faces of the silver screen.

The stars on the street span far and wide,
Their names etched in stone with a star to show how high they went.

Success and Fame walk hand in hand, and some you know by face, others by name.

As the bright silver turned to colors, we were able to almost touch it,
The worlds which made us smile, or cry.

Alas, time goes on and so does it, the names fade into history, save one boulevard.

If we're all dreamers, if all the worlds' a stage, ad if we are all stars of our own shows, then those names on those stars are the masters of the craft.

When the screen blacks, our lives return to normal.
But the celluloid stars are just around the corner,
The golden of age of fame, before gossip and self shame.

In an age I even now romanticize, even the dark history seems to shine.

So while we love our HD and our 3D Real D blockbuster hits,
Let's not forget the names who set the standards.  

So while stars burn out bright, some burn forever if you know where to look.

Before our flashy flicks, we had the black and white generation,
It taught us to love, it taught us to cry, it taught us to shine and stand as we were.

Before the media became pure entertainment;
It was a piece of work, the moving art.

Silver screens may be a relic of the past;
but they still strong.

We used to roll together

We used to stay up all night just crusin around the dead quiet towns listening to whatever mixtapes we had in the car

Now we're just memories on a facebook feed, we instagramly regret it but I secretly miss it.

I remember you were a little hip hop and I was a little punk, together we would play the underground tracks that we'd mix together on our Spotify playlist collection.

That was then and this is now and now it seems so long ago that we used to be something solid.

Now like air  we can't see each other but we know we're out there- somewhere.

I will consume you
I will devour you whole
My will is unchallengeable
I do not break
I shall not bend

My passion burns hot
It will consume you, you will catch light and ash before daybreak

I am the sea, every ripple is the still before the rogue wave swallows you,
I shall drown you.

I am the end of you, this is a promise.

You will need me, I will crawl inside you and take root,
I am the control.

You know not why you crave me, I am the infection that you desire
Festering inside of you, I will take control.

Your will is my will, your life is mine.

I will consume from the inside out.

And I fall
And so I shatter
I am glass and clay I return to simple matter.

I am the cog that turns the big gear
I am turning as I should and if I rust oil me and let me return.

And I fall
And so I shatter

I live vicariously and so i live many lives in a day
The mayfly inside me turns and dies and as it does like a maggot I worm away until I change again.

Host me for I am a virus, I am clay, mold me.
Mold me, hold me, drop me

And I fall
And so I shatter

To the floor I am the jigsaw you made me, the jigsaw I am because I can't be something without a blueprint telling me to be.

I exist to exist and I copycat and clone those around me for I am frail and of glass.

I am entropy's trophy

And I fall
And so I shatter.

Mistress Mistress skin my back and teach me to sin

Mistress Mistress take me to your whim and control I grant you.

Cure my heart of pain, for the world at large is one of torment, I am the fool, I am the fool for you. I lick your boots and give you my skin.

Control is love and I am out of both, I am a skinsack of lust and greed, nothing more than a vessel for your control.

Angel of my fear, collect my tears as holy water so you can baptize me a saint of sin, the dark heart bleeds on a cross of latex.

Desire burns like a wildfire, one I fueled under cover and hidden away from the dark, the waking world I walked away from as there was nothing left for me.

Center stage;
Lights burning on me.

Lights burning on me,
Eyes cast on me.

I've no choice now;
I step forward into and draw back the bow.

I am the target,
This is the show.

Begin.

Play like hell,
I'll give it all I know;
Fingers bleed and bow strings snap,
My life is on the balance.
I have no reason to hold back from this.

If my talent is on trial,
Then let it be my defense.

Play like hell,
no holding back.

Violent strikes like lighting,
Booming strikes of thunder,
I become the instrument.

Beyond this coil,
Play like hell.

Port Sunshine



When one talks of morals or the kind of person they think they are, it's always in some grand scale and overall sense. You base your moral high ground or ego and arrogance off of textbook philosophy and apply it where need be, but that’s not who you really are. That's who you want to be, or who you pretend to be, it's how you want to be seen by those around you. You ever had a gun pointed at you? Ever been held at knife point by someone who didn’t care about you? Have you ever had to make a choice like the young working father who started his drinking habit the night be had to choose between saving the life of his wife or not yet born baby because there were complications and he could only save one, and even then it was a risk because both could die. You ever had to make that call?

I didn’t think so.

Have you ever seen someone at the end of their rope? I mean really clawing at the edge of sanity and they want help but they’re so far gone you know that help is far and away and so you watch them slip away because it's simply out of your realm of control.

It’s one thing to sit there in the comfort of your educational intellect. To spout off old fact and theory that was discovered and pondered over fifty years or so before you were even born, it's one thing to sit in a living room with your circle of friends and discuss all these of matters of the soul while never having to go through any kind of issue or trauma or dilemma. But by all means please- tell me what kind of a person you are.

Have you ever been *****? And if you did- did you keep the baby? Are you an addict? Have you ever had something far greater and stronger than you pull you back and need it to function or you’ll snap?  Have you ever been alone?

Have you ever tried to actually **** yourself? I don’t mean some flashy cuts on your thigh or arms, I don’t mean some cocked up overdose on sleeping pills that could easily botch itself. I don’t mean a cry for help or attention or sympathy. I’m talking about death.

Have you ever tried to **** yourself? Why didn’t it work I wonder? People who want to die, die. Its that simple. If you have tried and you have survived- consider yourself lucky.

The truth is- you are not the pillar of moral strength you assume you are. You’re about half that because on paper you are one way and while you believe something or have faith in something- when you’re going through the motions and you happen across these times- your true colors come screaming out.

I’m here to tell you that as I sat in the far back room of that run down ***** inn and I sat next to my friend of twenty years and I saw him cry- for the very first time. I saw his true colors.

We all have our breaking points, everyone has a limit and try as you may, try as hard as you can that you are a good person, that you are a brave person, that you are some stone cold piece of work who is not to be tested, I can assure you. You are not that person. Something out there can break you, it's always there too. Maybe it lives in the back of the room or under the bed, maybe a family member knows what it’ll take, or a lover or a friend, maybe a memory or some past action that the regret gnaws on you nightly, but whatever it is. It is out there and it is always just around the corner.

Just another piece of the human puzzle. He cried, he stood against the corner and finally broke. He couldn’t run from it any longer. He ***** someone, I still don’t know the details and maybe that was me not wanting to ask. Maybe that was me trying to avoid the horror of his actions.

From the bits and pieces I did gather from my friend the story (as much as I’m allowed to repeat anyway) is:

They were dating for about two months at this point, they started a Netflix show together, they cooked meals together, they had ***- they were a couple. I hung out with them a few times, we drank beer and played board games, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Then it happened one night.

A friendly ***** game of ****** acts turned into a ****, something in that room became all too real- ya see she had a breaking point too. She got spooked during their fun and suddenly this became dark. What’s odd here is that they didn’t stop it. She was crying he was angry and he ***** her. Now sometime later he found himself at the back of a ***** hotel with his best friend as he suddenly burst into tears and his friend (your humble narrator) suddenly found himself at a crossroads. How and what am I supposed to do with this new information?

I did what any self respecting human would do. I ****** the **** up and shut the **** up. How could I judge him, I’ve known him for twenty years- at the same time...he ***** someone. Do I call the cops? Do I beat the living daylights out of him? Do I find the girl and get her side of the story? Should I denounce our friendship? It was during this thought process a cockroach fell from the ceiling and slammed into the ground, the bug flipped over and scurried away; even the cockroach felt this situation was too much for it to handle.

I cracked open two beers and handed him one, I’ve often that silence works wonders. And so we shared a silence and a beer as I stared at him and he stared at the floor.

So; that’s another skeleton I know about and it's one he has in his closet. What are yours? You think you’re a good person? Maybe you think you’re a bad person, perhaps you assume you’re a badass or a no nonsense hard worker, maybe you think yourself morally just or spiritually correct.

Here’s some advice- take the person you are or want to be or think you are or want people to see you as, take that person and do one of two things.

One; put them to test and prove it to yourself or two;

Put them to bed and just be the person you are. For better or worse at least you’ll know.

I left a rose on your bedside when you were taken away,
I'll never forget the look in your eyes as we sat in silence;
Sharing stares as the tick of the clock kept ticking away the moments.

The moments I had with you now memories I have of you,
The doctors gave you the news, and as the family choked back tears;
All you did was smile and silently accept that you had had good years.

If I could be as brave as you then maybe I could learn to live as you did.
Unafraid in the face of defining moments.

Now some of us were bitter,
We felt cheated and robbed,
How could such a thing happen to someone so undeserving?

Others felt sad and wounded,
The end was quickly coming and with it you understood.

As we all took turns spending time with you,
It was to me you gave your greatest gift.

The words of the elder and time beyond time;
Now spoken from the dying.

You said;
Nothing is trivial and I love you.

I was the last to see you that day having been the last to show up,
In the night you closed your eyes knowing you'd never wake back up.

To this day it haunts me;
Your face in those final moments,
When most of us see the end we worry and fret, we're scared of the end.
But you,
All you did was accept it and smile.

And for that kind of strength,
I thank you.

I lit a joint and finally sat down, the sweat ran from my forehead as the heat cooked the street. I was saved by the voice on the radio.

Her voice led me to light
Like a child I was wondering through the day and cowering in the night.

I heard her prayer on the radio and I was able to rest, searched for so long I forgot what I was looking for, the devil was in the details and she cleared up the red tape.

Kissed my forehead and cast me into sleep, kept me safe.

The journey of life had reached it's end. I was a good soldier and did my part, now I rest.

I took a drink and closed my eyes, feet up on the desk as the sun hung high over head- whatever happens tomorrow is a different day but right now I could bask in whatever peace I deserved.

Her voice was a prayer in the dark, an in the dark I had worked enough.

She kissed my forehead and with it I was blessed another day.

Well the heart keeps on pumping
The blood feels heavy as I feel it flowing.

I find myself stumbling through life;
Hey Captain; where are we going  now?

The wind hasn't blown for a time,
The water is running dry and the food is stale.

If we're to be stranded in the midpoint of life
Give me a sign the best years happened and I didn't miss them.

Missed them, I waved goodbye not even knowing.

Hey Captain, where are we going?

I can feel my heart pound but the blood's not flowing.

The early fog made it hard to see.

No port in a storm, no shelter, just stuck at sea.

The ship's been taking water, and we're beginning to wonder;
Do we just wander?

Hey Captain, where are we going now?

I have aggression inside me.

Have you ever wanted to watch the world burn?
I mean really burn, not some small cinders, but a real bonfire.

I'm sick of being sick, I'm tired of being tired and I'm tired of being so ******* passive.

Six months into 2020 and here are some highlights

Remember when Australia was on fire?
****** hornets?
The Russian Oil Spill in the Arctic
Several cases of police brutality resulting in murders
The Hong Kong protests both volumes
Now ******* squirrels have been found in Colorado with the Bubonic Plague.
Another strain of Swine flu was found in China that was transmutable to humans and contained traces of the former swine flu
covid-19
The covid-19 protests.
Floods in February
Part of the United States is undergoing a record heat wave
Parts of India and Africa had to deal with record swarms of locusts
The second we stopped the lockdown in the states we went right back to mass shooting
Donald Trump
Do I need to go on?

I'm tired of this high road passive nonsense.    

I know violence isn't the answer but do you want makes the lions, tigers, apes, hog and antelope gather together?

Fire.

If the conservatives, liberals, Christians, Muslims, Pagans and Satanists, Vegans and Carnivores, Karens, Kens, If the right and the left can't meet in the middle, **** em.

Let it burn.

Why do you always have to stick your nose in other people's business?

The boys shouldn't be so proud and admit that they're western fascism, ANTIFA need to become organized so they can control their message.

If they can't, **** em.

Let it burn.

I want fires as high as Heaven, I want Roger Stone behind bars and serving his full sentence and I want the names that Epstein and Maxwell have, and she better not commit death by cop.

I want people to wake up and understand we're ******* ourselves up and proving why we're the worst species.

Otherwise, Let it burn.

I'll strike the match, I'll pour the gasoline, I'll start the fire because if that will bring us together, at least we'll be united on something.

Anger is an energy and right now I'm feeling like Chernobyl at 1:22 am.

I want fire, I want ash to rain from the sky and black out the blue, give me constituency or give me the torch, you want an eternal flame? I'll let it burn for the Gods.

I have this anger in my heart, I have to act like this is all ok, because if I don't, if I voice this **** I come off as the crazy one.

Fine by me, if you want me to crazy at least call me an arsonist.

Burn baby burn, Your systems are weak, your tiktoking your life away, you're reading too many faces and it's not even a good book you chose to reread, this is the worst high school reunion disaster movie you can think of.

At this point I'm walking the line of "******* all" and "I want to see you saved"

I'm feeling like G.G. Allin and Jesus Christ had a son.

When this place burns to the ground and you're left walking through the smolders and remains don't come crying to me because I''ve done all my crying and now I just want to watch your punk *** burn.

I want to explode, I want to detonate.

Blow this joint sky high and say "******* that was fun and thanks for the memories"

I'm walking the line of classically happy and cynically depressed.
You people have exhausted me, the anti- vaxers who'd rather listen to their hearts and highschool minds compared to experts in the field, You'd rather listen to "Dave, some 52 year old neighbor" as opposed to the CDC because you don't trust them, yet you have a social media page where you bleed your heart out?

Makes sense right? You're as dense as these flat earth *****, I'd love to see you be tossed on the pile.

Hurting public discourse? Take the guillotine or bonfire, it doesn't matter to me, you're hurting the majority and further hindering the minority, add some fuel to the fire and contribute you oxygen stealing gene pool mistake.

I dream of fire, I dream of smoke, I dream of ash, cinder, smolder and choke.

Let'***** the restart button, hell is freezing over anyway but hey, global warming is a myth right?

Again, I'm not so proud of you boys, let the women make their minds up about their bodies and roles in the work force and home.

Strike a match, sing a song and get low because like 1984 the firemen and we're not just burning Milo books.

So here I end my anger, because I've gassed myself out but I'm sure tomorrow the tank will be full again, after all anger is an energy and thanks to this ******* I have a seemingly unlimited supply.

We could be heroes for today;
if only we tried.

We could be heroes today;
it wouldn't matter if we died.

The change in the world could be the people we want to be,
Why can't it be this way?

All these people playing all these parts
Everyone wanting to be the star-but never going too far;
we need a hero today.

We could be the change we want to see happen.

All these problems causing all this mess;
it's not wonder why I live in stress.
Everybody wanting something for nothing
So ready to take credit and pass blame
but we could be heroes- if just for today.

California- the year two thousand and something
Three friends sit on the outskirts of town an stare into the black mass above them.

The stars out in force as they stand without contest from the city lights.

This is the beginning- or the end.

For these people- this would mark the end of their respective friendship as the carefully crafted pane of teenage friendship was about to be shattered by the reality of young adult life.

The group has gone
The memories stand- and the things said that night hold something of the former selves they were.

Time- too much time has changed them, too much has happened.

Even if they could go back, it would be a wasted trip.

This is the start.

Bad hearted woman taking me down to size
she don't play- just with my heart.

In this ocean of seduction she's the shark to my bleeding heart.

She got the devil inside her eyes but the angels inside her eyes tell me it's safe to fall prey to her widow kiss lips.

From the bubbling cauldron of mankind I crawl out of the muck.

Below the sewer and gunk, the mud and sewage we crawled to the top of the bubbling stew and slid over the lip.

I am mankind, of divinity.

I am the first vampire, trading ***, blood and lives for one or another.

In me I trust, I crawled form the soup and learned to craft, I learned to stand and speak.

I am the first lion. Controlling my pride and overseeing my land.

Of the stars we were forged, of luck and God, of Mother and Father, of Earth and mythology so we rose.

Our towers of Babel, our Skyscrapers and low hanging gardens of Babblespeak.

I am the first clone.

Woke up early morning with my name on the star,
Threw my shades and ego on, this is how I got this far.

Killers walk around in suits;
Sharks on land walk hand in hand with the poor.

I grab a bottle and pour myself out,
Saw a pretty little thing by the bus stop;
Money in cup but the face said- pay me and I'll pout.

This is prestige heights,
Drain your blood and let the euphoria flow.
This is the main act, I show up and end the show.

So much glamor and wasted fame its a wonder why no one knows my name.

Lady of the night;
Teenage scream queen of the eighth grade,
Leading boys to the bathrooms for between class lessons.

I paper cut across the wrist to spread my gossip on the front page of the all-seeing tabloid.

The dream machine I live on can't self sustain so I run on empty fumes and outdated news updates that hit the streets the second after my social media feed throws them away.

Strange trip through time as the music I hear comes from when I was in highschool.

Currently I am 31, Korn are now an old band, smoking has been replaced by the juul and I find myself thinking when did I no longer have my finger on the pulse of society?

Do teenagers know that their culture is created by 30 and 40 year olds who know them so well that they can target their individuality and make a profit out of them?

Did I?

I was rocking out to The Cure and The *** Pistols in highschool while everyone around me was listening to the black eyed peas and slipknot and somehow I still see the irony of it all.

How detached am I?

Is youth the key to being in touch with whats happening unless you find yourself as an influencer?  

Another social term that only existed in fashion magazines when I was in highschool now we focus on Instagrams and snapchats to tell us what's what and what fashion to follow.

I'm trending on my younger self and what we call **** riding or *** kissing is now called stanning... Am I losing touch?

is this what age does or does society simply become more marketable and I fall for less the older I get?

At what point do I walk away and become old and just simply don't get it?

Age sneaks up on us and soon we forget and lose track of what's happening and soon we have a group of highschool wannabe punk *** kids laughing at us as we stand in line at the mall, wired, tired and exhausted from work but we've only got a few hours to get this last minute gift for our friend or for a babyshower and we make under what we deserve because we bust our *** and yet the house payment racks up and our manager who is younger than us by a year somehow thinks they're better than us, so we have to see these hoodie wearing smirking *** teenage brats mock us, meanwhile we can outdrink, outparty, outfuck and out run them because no matter how hard they think they are, we've got the experience to support us.

Age sneaks up and soon those punk *** whiny instastars become 30 year olds who say the same **** we do because when we're young everyone lives forever and hindsight is 3030 or 4040 but this is part bitter, part better, its part knowledge and part wisdom, it's part jaded and part self aware.

At the end of the day it's all just signs of age.

Now I see you through you like you were made of glass
Our time together burned short but hot
like a candle like a candle
we made love and burned our wick down
passions down in flames
emotions up in smoke
like a candle like a candle
I've got a wax heart that you warm until I melted
Now I see it was only a thin frail lie
and I see through you like you were made of glass
If we could turn back time we wouldn't change a thing
as unhappy as we were we were only happy because we had each other
and the words unsaid left a hole in floor where the fire burned through
like a candle like a candle

There is a cost at which my soul comes.

Inside me lurks a fire, a beast, a demon.
I was born to control, I was born to dominate the world and bend natural order to my will.

I know for most of you this seems self indulgent. I assure you, you will bend to my will.

There are those who do and those who exist and those are the only two true kinds of people.

Your childlike relationships to this land, your 'home" have left you weak, your superstitions and traditions have become antiquated, you are dreamers who are finally waking and before you- I stand

Wide eyed and well aware of the future.

I don't need you to like me, I don't need you to understand me and if I'm being honest, your support means very little to my plans.

For when I walk, I walk as God.
For when I speak, I speak as finality.

Long before me there were apes and now in my time I see cavemen, god knows what will become of society when I finally rest.

There is a cost to my will, it comes at the price of silence.
The price of blood, of guilt and shame.
I know none of it.

My will is law and my law is absolute.

I have paid in blood and flesh to have what I have, while you deal in silvers, golds, gem stones and cold hard paper cash, I deal in something far greater and more valuable.

While your wealth comes and goes I am transcend the living rock, the thousand year root, the jellyfish immortal.

In this age of men, I alone am God, for God is dead and I sit on his throne, while you sit there slack jawed, wide eyed and impressionable.

The cost of this power came at self expense and now you are left to pick up the check.

Light a flash and the magic starts,
To the stage, to the crowd, to the person you play nightly.

Dance and sing to the colored lights.  Now watch our tricks, now watch our trade, we're live and every night is a new sight of wonder and you wonder how we do what we do.

We're entertainers who work with smoke, mirror and shadow to create the spectacles of light and sound, high flyers and fire breathers, so welcome to the show and take a seat number crunchers and daydreamers.

We are the way to release, we provide you with the escape you want, you need, you're afraid to let go. So let us let go for you.

Come one, come all. Come big, come tall, come short, come small. Bring your smiles, bring your dreams, bring your family, friends and loves.

Moment to moment, watch our movements and watch what we do because while we do what we do and we do it for you, we do it for us because no one else will.

Entertainers entertaining the ideas that you dream of, that exist in your mind and dreams.

There’s a man with a mask and a plan and a dream and although he’s just a man he’s far more than he seems.

The man puts on the mask and the magic starts, the goal is simple. To capture your hearts.

I want to light the fires of your passions, want to inspire your desire, look at the lights and the fashion.

If we are the artists and this is the art, then you are living it as we create it. You are a part of it.
We present you with the strange, we show you the sideshows of the past in modern flare.
This is vaudeville this is show this is an indulgence. So runaway from reality into the Shadow Show because our doors are open and we’re ready to entertain.

Trust the man in the mask because you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain
everything you’ve seen so far is just the beginning, the rest is clawing at the door just waiting to show itself.

So, trust the Jester because I haven’t told you a lie you haven’t liked. He’s an honest charlatan, everything you see before you is as real as you want it to be. So surely you jest because we’re the best at what we do and what we do is to bring the strange, odd and wonderful to you.

Let us inspire your desire. Let the real world go- if even for a night.
You’re living art while we live this life. It’s who we are and what we do. Our blood on the stage our dreams hang overheard, to make you smile to make you scream. It’s a little scary and that’s the tightrope we walk, dancing on the edge of a knife.
So, we trust you to trust us and we trust the Jester.
If only for one night you walk into our world we’ll pluck the stars from the sky and burn brighter than any light you’ve known. If only for one night you want to let go, let us take you on a journey you have only dreamed of

Some of you survived this.

Some of you made it to the other side.

You saw your friends, your family, your loved ones and total strangers die along the way, you fought over blood, bodies and political ******* to get where we are now...for you this is a huge victory. For you this is a huge defining moment, for me...this is Tuesday.

Look I'm not demeaning or belittling whatever happened here, whatever victory no matter how big or small, you won. The scars that you can't see...those will wake you up at night, could be every night, it could be in fifty years, you'll be asleep and for no reason you'll wake up in a cold dead sweat with your heart pounding out of chest and you'll think back to this moment...that's about as poetic as this gets.

It's hard to think of this as a victory now considering what has happened and for better or worse, what's going to happen, but hey...take the W because it's not everyday you win like this.

As for me...I'm going to light this cigarette, turn up this song, close my eyes for a moment and by the time the song ends and I discard the remains of this trash smoke..I'll move on to some other group, to some other person, to some other town, city or problem...

Now I know what you think...I'm not some avenging angel, I'm not some white knight hero who comes in to save the day. In truth I'm angry, anger is an energy and rather than turn it inwards I turn it into something useful to help other people. I do this because the only other option is self destruction, now you call that unhappy, I call it motivation.

So go celebrate, go make merry because as soon as the sun comes up, the real work starts. The coming dawn brings new laws, it brings new hope, new life, it brings new chances and new freedom.

Enjoy this moment because history has seen a million moments exactly like this. So when you wake up in the pool of sweat and think back to this moment, and you think of me, you can rest easy knowing that you weren't the first and nowhere near the last of people who were willing to stand up to the fascists, it's not easy, it's not pretty and it ***** sometimes, but no one ever said victory was easy.

Hello fellow poets and writers,
fellow thinkers, drinkers, laughers, boomers, doomers, zoomers, consumers, looters and last but not least voters.

What can be said of a year? 2020 was hell.

Even if you tried to list all of the events that happened thus far you'd still leave some out, we've had wildfires, two very near wars, a global pandemic, animals bringing disease back, massive storms, flooding, the fourth wave of naiz's, a violent head to head with police shootings, racism, food shortages, massive power outages and the shitlist goes on.

I never used to celebrate New Years because living in America it seemed pointless, it's not hard to survive a year anymore. We have all these creature comforts even despite the riots, the crash, the loss of jobs, of life, people are still somehow surviving, so I've always let New Years be for the birds but after this, I think we could all use a good laugh. A good single breath and a moment where we can just relax.

Leave your masks on, wave at your friend and just enjoy the fact that whoever is left, is still here.

Even writing this I'm not trying to be clever, this is no time for wit or sarcasm, there is no time for wordplay.

I just think right now we all need a reminder that we're ok. Somehow this will pass, this is what the world changing looks like, this is what keystone moments in history are like.

2020, a turning point in History.

Covid is far from over and politically, socially, racially, we still have a long way to go before we can rest, but there is no rest for the true believers, there is no rest for those weary of not having social justice or feeling discounted, their waking nights have become the waking world.

Adapt or die, change or get left behind. I know we won't end racism, we won't end people will still be bigots, but what we can do is reduce those numbers and leave them in the past, through proper education, time and an unrelenting show that people will be who they are and we share the world in peace or we risk repeating this hellscape we're in now.

If you've made it this far, well done.  If you've made it this far consider this a hug, a handshake, a pat on the back. Consider this as someone who also is still here, I'll never meet you but ******* if we aren't in this fight together.

You are not alone.

-Jester.

I stood by the bay and cast my problems away.
Into the shifting sands went my life, sand castles of dreams and hopes- the life of a younger man I did see wash away into the sea.

These old eyes have seen too much and learned too little far too late.

I have heard the call of battle far off from another room and as I turned off the T.V. I had another voice call out for me- changing rooms and places with each other- we're as fickle as the waves.

So the hourglass drains from one end to the other and no one to flip it, this is how we run out of time.

With age comes wrinkles and worry, with age comes debt.

So I stand by the bay and wait for the waves to wash me away. Sand castle life, King of the beach.

Let's talk for a moment about free speech.

Hello Poet, say what you will for art is free speech and expression of the soul.

Hello poet, think what you will because thoughts are free and through thought we become more and strive for greater heights.

So, I am torn and here is why.

Censorship in art?

The word *****- a female dog.
The word ****- a term for a rooster.
The word ***- a British term for a cigarette.

Offensive words yet being offended is a one to one ratio.

To censor words and art is a step backward in the artistic community, that being said this is a public site who have advertisers and marketable money making devices set in place to keep this site running...so art vs commerce...

Who chooses what gets the starred dots and under what guidelines, is it context? Is it all no matter what?

What if the offensive part of the piece isn't a word what about the topic?

The open discussion isn't to be found it's hid behind stars where meaning and emotion are often blurred.

So I can't say FcK fair enough, I'd have to say Sx or making love,  but I can't really say I got made love out of a job or I got scred out of a job.

Is there no place for raw language that is ugly and unflattering? So all art must be clean and pristine so it does not offend the mass population?

Do you know how the population got to be so big? A lot of lve making, Oh because what if someone finds that word offenve?

Do we spe* around the iue* now?

finds what *?

If is a ***** word then isn't language lost?

Words alone are not offensive, the subjective nature of the word to the individual makes them offensive, now clearly there is a time and a place for these things...you shouldn't say * in church, you shouldn't call a ....sorry a human younger than a toddler an *.

But this is an art site, a website devoted to art and free thinking, yet the advertisers who support and fund this site say that some words may offend the public and so those words must be banned...so are we * more * * *?

*

I am torn because in a place where thoughts should be free, where art and ideas are expressly told to be free and stand out, now in some way the voice of anger, the voice of radical emotions are now muted, yet at the same time...someone has to pay for this site to keep it running, and a platform to stand is better than no platform at all...but if you're going to censor the words where does it stop?

Everyone is offended by something all it takes is one loud good complaint and a word, an image, a book, a movie, a song...they get burned, deleted, blocked, censored...

I am torn.

He drew a red a heart on the white wall, his world was one of love.

Painting pictures helps to remember the shape of love;
Love in hell, life and above.

I love therefor I am, without it I am shadow from light filling the void.

I drink from your lips, honey like wine.
You drink from my heart, love like herion- addicted to each other.

Pumping the core making the body move and yet so slow do we fall because without it we speed up to hit the ground.

I love and lost and I'll love and lose again, this is the circle of which I choose to spin.

He drew a black heart on a red wall to express passion and lust but all he had was anger, for in losing her he knew he'd never get her back.

He knew she was with someone better, someone bigger.

****** issues led to the break and now his heart was shattered.

She left knowing he could do better, she had a secret she didn't want to share, she had a lost a child and could never love again. She lied to leave relationships before she got too close to lose again.

She drew a blue heart on a green wall and under that she wrote a poem to the child she laid to rest.

Hearts on walls being left to fade, color and time and as foundation cracks so does art.

Love only counts when its remember by the age, for we move on from what love was to what love is.

The child had been touched, beaten, ignored, the child had been cold to the heart so the child drew a white heart on a white wall and under it the child wrote "**** it all"

Bleeding hearts turn the cycle, we spin the tales and in the we feel

Divas with a baseball bat,
Smeared make-up buttercup, ball busting ******* flirting with the fools and hard-ons in the alleyway.

These girls don't run from trouble, they cause it, **** it, break it, they define it.

Killer queens, savage pretties, beauty queens with baseball bats and brass knuckles kisses left you speechless and broke wondering what the hell happened to you.

These girls in the drop top with their tops down play men like fiddles, they treat em like clowns. These girls on the street can take what they give and they don't break.
Tattooed, short skirts, low tops, high heels and contraband in the back seat these girls are the kinda girls society warned you about.

These are the women of the world who bite back before they get bit because they know the wild side of life is the only way to live, so keep up and roll the dice because boy, these girls toss em hard and live fast.

Broken promises and broken homes make for happy typical teenage rebellion.

When the revolution starts you'll probably snitch to the closet cop trying to save yourself from any kind of risky change.

While some create wildfires in the mind, while they create art or inspire the culture, you feed off the hype and try to play along like you're not a victim of fashion.

When the **** hits the fan you'll be the first to blog about the wave of crazies making life hard for everyone else while wearing a *** Pistols shirt and a bobblehead of Che Guevara waves in your stylized room.

You speak of Kafka while coughin on the name brand cigarettes you call depression.

You're a bi-polar baby using the newest app to transmit the **** you force us all to swallow and yet you wonder why everyone grows tired of you.

Chalk outline in the inner city and a candlelit vigil makes for a nice twitter post but it takes a twit like that to stand on the graves of the dead and talk about politics because a few hundred die but what matters is your opinion in the public eye.

You're the reason why Ziggy broke the band up. A freak of culture with a connection to the internet. When the revolution starts you'll be late to the party and you'll miss the bus but lie about how you were there in the front line- but tell me cupcake how can you support civil unrest when you sleep 8 hours a night and take a nap during the day?

I draw blood and let it pool in my hand so I can fingerprint my autograph on the declaration.

As John Hancock, so shall I.

They've tried for years to express themselves and as the art has shown, they've only caught a few over the decades.

Voices dying on the wind, written off by the time and the population had named them "weird art"

The freak show is in town tonight and again they try, for every body felled by the wayside there's one right behind to pick up the torch and reignite the flames.

Bullet proof prophets made of theory and ideas driving trains of thought off the track so they can crash into your homes and lives.

Train wreck train wreck.

Where there's smoke there's a wildfire heart burning with passion holding a match to a powder keg.

Suicide by design, killing ourselves for relatability.

We're sick so suicide missionaries we stand side by side.
Fighting off the chains of restrictive thought and walls built by a society of the lying, cheating, scared population who would hang free thinkers as witches, on trial just as some words have been banned.

Everyone is a critic and so we can't speak freely, free speech has become hate speech.

Context be ******.

The dying breed sit behind the fence and starve as we're picked off by the carrion thought eaters and those who run are arrested by the thought police.

Can't say this, can't think that. Careful not to offend.

Everyone wants to say everything but no one wants to feel offended, gotta play it safe because we're so fragile we're of glass.

Everything gives a disease because no one gets ***** anymore in case we catch something, we've killed our anti bodies and our systems aren't so immune anymore, thank god we've got the pills to help boost whatever we need.

Poppin pills like pez out of dispensers that take notes, bills, ***, headaches, stomachaches, spells of dizziness, dry mouth, restless leg syndrome, homicidal thoughts, suicidal thoughts, being too hungry, not being hungry enough, back pain, hand pain, toothache, and a million other issues that probably could be solved with a little bit of effort but nope, pills and an arm and a leg Dr. bill are the cure.

Paying way too much attention to celebrities while everything burns. Then when the fire reaches you it's time to worry.
You're just the newest sapling in the fire that's swallowed by the flames of drama, gossip and *******.

A million dead artists their bodies all point to the way, the treasure of art, soul and comedy, tragedy, drama, political and social commentary- all with points to make, yet YOU don't like what they had to say, so you censor the words you don't like, you twist the meaning to fit your offense then crucify the speaker and "expose" them for all they are.

**** that.

People cuss, people hate other people, people say words and think thoughts you may not like, they may have different ideas, they may write or song or act in ways you don't approve.

Deal with it.

The world still spins, you still grow and go on, there are important matters to attend to if you could just pull your head out of your *** for two seconds.

No matter how much you try to clean up the act, the dirt under still remains. The world is not some clean, pristine, air tight seal where you will get your way, don't like what's on tv? Change the channel, don't like what's in the book? Don't read it.

Don't like the song, the food, the people, the color of their skin, the way they talk, the politics- left or right. Then walk away.

It's their world too and you have to share it.

Sit down, strap in and deal.

I'd rather sleep than die
I feel like my wings have been ripped from my back;
I am the fly.

I am the voice inside of my own head,
I am the headache that I try to kick back with pills as I drown them with water and hope that it sinks.

Sleep at my fingers tips yet I can't get a grip.
I'm losing control now but somehow I still have enough to type these words.

I am the man in the mirror who believes I can cross over if I stare into my reflection long enough.

Now I lay thee down to sleep- is a joke at best.
But allow me to digress, surely I jest.
Word play is the new flirtation and  an argument with myself may as well be *******.

I speak in tongues that I can only say when I'm sleep deprived and half dazed.

Come now with the sun to try and bring clarity, I close my eyes and ignore the message, unfazed I remain.

You saved me one day.

You didn't even know it, you came out of nowhere and showed it was two against the world.

I was born an only child but you became a brother by blood, as we aged together I stood as the best man at your wedding, you were there when my mother passed.

I became godfather to your child. You became my oldest friend.

When you told me you were sick and she had left you because the bills were too much, I helped you as much as I could.

When you wanted to feel like the old you again, I brought out the poker chips and turned the music on.

The virus was spreading and all I could do was standby and watch,
Watch you wither away.

I picked your kid up from school, took her to the mall, took her to ice cream and to see her mother.

She asked about you and her words sounded bitter.

My girlfriend and I would always stop by just to see how you were doing, pizza, movies, anything to try and act like you weren't fading.

The day you died is the day I lost a brother and became an old child again, and now the leaves fall on you grave and I stop by once a month to keep you updated.

Your little girl like animals, she wants to be a zoo keeper, your ex regrets leaving and not being strong enough to stick around.

Now that you're gone we all feel the absence of your laugh, the sting of your wit.

You saved me one day, and when you needed to be saved I could only watch you wither away.

**** cancer.

Broken thrones and busted bones,
Rusted crowns and ruling out of bounds,
Kings and Queens and genocide machines.

Crest on a shield, knights with knives and knaves with stolen horses.
Blood stained lands and bodies of water littered with parts of bodies.

Time rots the empire and soon the History swallows all.

Was it terror, oil, freedom or war
what did we **** Osama for?

Lives spent in the searing heat, bullets whizbangs and pre packaged meat, far away from home, family wondering when I'll come home.

Bodies of men and women the fighters die together under our stars and stripes fighting a war for freedom.

No this is an oil war, this is the war on terror, we won't stop til we get em dead or alive.

Was it terror, oil, freedom or war, what did we **** Osama for?

A half job done causes a whole lot of trouble later, so why waste so many lives on something we just walked away from?

Was it worth it?
Who paid the price?
Was it worth it, Uncle Sam says
"Gee, fight the fight and fly Ol' Glory"

What was the war for? Pick which reason was worth it only for us to walk away?

Blood on the streets is blood on our hands, no heroes, no winners, just bullet casing sands

Where olive trees wither, so does my body.
The spirit of  fight has left me alone.

The rot from the dirt has tainted the roots and now all that grows is self doubt and pity.

Where apple and pumpkin rot in the sun, where grape and pear shrivel, there is no life left in these dead barren lands, save for I.

Save for I.

On dying tree bark I have told the tale of life before the fall and now all I can remember is after the fall having given my memory to the dying trees.

Where the soul withers away and the blood runs dry, I am the king of the rot.

Where olive trees wither I leave a sun dried wilted corpse as a reminder that life once was and shall be again- in time.

Random words running through a tired mind.
Video killed the radio star and that's the day the music and laughter died.

Theater passed the torch to radio plays and the radio laid down at the feet of the silver screen, we're hi on our hi-fi wifi now **** your old media because it's outdated even before it comes out.

Eyes fight to stay awake as I fall asleep in front of the words and my mind auto pilots the thought out.

In spray paint font on a neon billboard full of lies it reads "Media killed art, we all just watched"

I never should have stopped drinking says the old artist, for his glory days are behind him and while he's respected he's got nothing left and at the end of the day- what's in a name to make it stay?

Deformed and slapped together, Dr. Leonardo Frankenstein was father.

Against science and god I am birthed from the rubble and chaos of a pop culture gate that split the two worlds.

My soul is old yet I'm a child in a body of middle age, I am stuck halfway between mortal and divine, I am conflicted about my inner workings because I fully understand them yet I understand them to know they cannot be fully understood, father says I am perfect and in his perfection he has found flaws, so I am perfectly flawed.

Halfway between a friend a threat, I resent all yet I do not repent.

I am the Godchild of Man's love of self, I am art and therefor can be sold.

To market I go, scrap my pieces and build a better creation.

I am flawed and so I was made out of a perfect image, the funhouse mirror reveals the truth, a distorted freak dressed in human clothes, I can talk like you, think like you, yet I'm a hodgepodge of humanity.

I am the atom bomb of humanity, ready to explode and take it all with me.

And so we honor the dead
A thousand unsaid words spoken too late
The field of death marked by flowers and so we grow pretty, oh so pretty in the dirt.

The death takes us and rots us and as we rot from the world we are forgot.

Death takes its toll and so we go into the earth, pretty living things out of pretty dead things.

I teach the leech to drain

I teach the leech to take all it can, so what do I expect when the mouth I feed bites back?

Instruments and devices of our own destruction and downfall- we create them. Students pass the master and now the master relearns how to be humble.

Our own falls marked by our student no longer needing the skills we can teach or already knowing the lessons we know.

We know our time has come.

I taught the leech to survive on its own, I fed it until it could survive alone and now it thrives in ways I never could.

And in some ironic twist of fate, we saw each other from across the hall, it could've have been days or years- it wouldn't have mattered.

When two people who have been through as much as we have come to a mutual understanding, words are simply pointless, her eyes sparkled and we stood there and just stared at each other, the slightest sound from either of us would have sent the other into a fit, so we smiled.


Here is where we parted ways for the final time, she turned to her date as I turned my back and left through the side exit.

Something like pride stung me, but I held it back and in so I could savor my sweet wallowing and pity, I am never the victim and when I get to play the part I may as well play it as well as I can. I keep it to myself so that I alone can sup on the sweet juices of self pity, and yet I know that it wont last long.

I caught a ride to the edge of town
I took a breath and said goodbye home town, hello world.

I was getting out to get out. I was getting lost to get lost so that I could find myself, I was sick of being sick in the same place, the same town, the same faces and people, so I caught a ride to the edge of town, took a breath and said goodbye.

Feeling used for too long, feeling tired of the it all, so I vanish to the road to make a point, that life is more than what we see in front of us every day, and it's easy to forget.

I packed my bags and hit the road, losing myself so I can discover who I am and where I belong, maybe I don't belong anywhere- but at least I know where I stand.

Standing on two firm feet is better than wading through the muck and not seeing what you stand on or being so caught in a haze you can't see where you are.

When they find out I'm gone they'll see a knife stuck a wall with a note expressing my feelings and thoughts, it'll be misunderstood but by then I'll be long gone and off the grid in another city finding myself in a new job, finding out whatever I didn't know before.

Not a drifter or a sifter, not a drunk or a ***, not a hippy or running from my problems, just doing what I need to- to find out who I am.

By the time they notice I'm gone I'll be back with a new lease on life, we don't belong anywhere. We exist wherever we are, existing however we can.

Hoping tomorrow will be better.

Papercut
Now I write red words, for it flows so freely.

I write therefor I am.

I bleed, therefor I can- express.
Unhygienic paper printed to the masses
Infection, Sentimentally Transmitted Document.
Infection.

Papercut, I cut the paper and turn it into a paper plane,
Crane- origami
spitball gun.
A sleeping paper tiger in the field factory of spiral bound notebooks.

Papercut.

And so I weep at the grave
Into the hole love goes and with it, the final tears I will ever cry.

With her goes my heart and my passion, with her goes my creative fire and urge.

She was my muse and my compassion, she was the best of me and without her I no longer need to hold onto the best parts of me, for she is not here to light my way.

Lighthouse no more, into the dark I sail.

Dressed in black I sit and stare at the cold dirt and know that no matter what we do or who we are, we end up here. Bones and all.

Dressed in black we weep together for some lost a friend, some lost a daughter and sister, I lost more than a lover in her.

My guiding star burned out and now I care not what happens for without her I am the shadow of a man before I met her.

When a man is powerless, send him a woman, and when you take the woman away- you break the man. No one is an island so I shall sink to the bottom of that cold, crushing ocean.

Let me drown,
let me drown,
let me down.

In my sorrows.
I care not for the sunrise or tomorrow.

We'll do it live,
All out or none at all,
Roll the dice and take a risk- or so they said.
So they said.

We'll entertain the lights, the stage, the people, we'll dance, sing, cry, we'll rock the roof, shake the floor and stampede the door.

Lights on, lights off- we'll do it Live.

I run on hard drugs and live for the lights, my name in them spells "STAR."

I burn bright because I won't burn long.

So I am the animated, I am the rising sun on which the papers and tabloids write about.

Live and let live, live and let die- I'm worth a million dollars and counting, who tells my story after I pass gets the prize just as my story and fame goes to the highest bidder.

I look like a saint, I **** like a sinner, I'm looking cool as long as I'm thinner.

Lights on, lights off- we're better in action, so roll the camera and we'll be the attraction.

Trying to swim but I'm drowning in the shallow end
No deep water for this first timer
You set a goal and cried a river which never ended, now it's an ocean and I'm an island.
Set sail sailor
Now the ship sunk and I'm watching the waters lap higher and higher, here I sink.
I say a prayer under my breath and tip my hat to the sea before me.
She finally got the best of me.
No matter the time, no matter the work, I feel like I failed, like I let you down.
Now take to the lifeboats, I added to these turbulent waves so with the ship I go.
The waters taking me, so here I sit and with the ship I go.