Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
julian Feb 2012
Scene-1:1

We went to the store

Blackboulée eggs much to the zippers surprise

Dogs, lady, dog

Marriage is possible for cigarettes

Cancer Fredholm...more, much more cancer

Windows is taking the folliculine action

Tiny particules in the french cinema

Man ray eats apples on her waxed surface

Cloth...to make the song

Song on fire

Fire pants, frames of exempte colors

The script has babies

Babies gros

Growing to death

Man Ray watches softer friends

Blueprint magazine

Start
julian Jan 2011
The dream came into my life like a hot summer day-
the sand I had my feet in held me in place
beach volleyball and hot **** skin
makes me feel like I ought to go for a swim

The dream came into my heart like a red hot silver dart-
the pistol cocked it's hammer
after the shot I started to stammer
so much for beauty and all that glamor

The dream came into my mind like a buried treasure-
golden birds gathered like birds of the feather
the giant blue hand held fast to the tether
sounds came crashing in and for this I never felt better
poems inspired by dreams...it's good to be back!
julian Feb 2012
Attention and tension...

Sirens Blare, mighty like the wind...

I heard someone say that was their favorite sound...

I think that's sad

Most of the time that is the death wail

Sometimes it's the sound of hope

Hope

The fire did not burn all the family photos

His wife still lives and bakes their grandchildren cookies

Hope

That sirens blares through the ether

Attention and tension

Hope
julian Oct 2010
one day after a rain storm a man awoke with a great hunger in his belly...
having not eaten the previous night due to the storm... this man knew he must hasten to the market in order to fend of starvation...as he walked along the river side the man spotted a worm laying along the river bank...this worm had begun to dry up and was squirming all about...the man feeling compassion for the worm picked it up and brought the worm to the river and dropped it in the water...once the man got back to the path by the river he saw another worm...he did the same to this worm as he had done to the first...every time the man returned to the path he came across yet another worm...this man kept up with his goodwill and continued to return the worms to the water...several hours passed and the man kept up with his task...soon after the man began to become faint...yet he continued to rescue the worms...as he returned to the road after dropping off the one thousandth worm the man fell on his face and died of starvation...his body lay in the way along the river all night...during the night the worms that he returned to the river began to wiggle their way back to the path...at sunrise another man was walking the same path of the compassionate man...to his surprise the man came upon a dead body...the man was completely shocked...this was caused by the site of one thousand worms carrying the man towards the river...the man knew he had witnessed something great...the man ran as fast as he could to the market...exclaiming to all the site he had seen...many people were interested in seeing this occurrence...they all followed the man to the river...the people were so excited that they began to run...when they reached the location the man had been explaining to them about...they could not see anything of the sort of tale they had heard...they looked around and only found a thousand squashed worms beneath their feet...thinking the man a lair some of the people picked the man up and tossed him in the river...
julian Feb 2012
Heroine, and our hero...

Breaking the bad souls into half

We don't give a **** it's our time to laugh

Heavens await as the shore brings us gifts

She lions dressed in polka dots and Doc Martens

Daily milking makes them smarter

Trees in the forest, land masses rift

The time has come to lose your number

Jenny in a hammock, sleep and slumber
julian Nov 2010
today this poem is for us-
together we will squeeze the riens and move along the path-
we will enjoy this day-
this is so because we stand together-
although we may be far apart-
we stand together when we dream of distant shores-
we can come together to the gates of infinity-
we can dance the dance of humanity-
one waltz at a time-
this poem is dedicated to all of us-
this is so because all of us have a stake in the positive outcome of our children-
so I ask you to hold out a hand instead of pointing a finger-
together we can dream-
we can go to the bus stop together-
and together await for our ride into the cosmos-
so once again let do this for us...as in together...
julian Feb 2012
Needles filled with smack

Junkies filled with pain

Garbage and filth

Mercy and grace

The lovers are there also

So is the beast

Nature's way- adding to acres of longing

She is there, dried blood in her hair

He is there, soul gripped with loss

The devil flips a coin

Angels sing, so we can dance

Ask for help- to advance

They are all watching

They are all walking

The low and the high

You can find me

At God St. and Vine
julian Nov 2010
we cannot forget that we cannot remeber what came before
what will came after
we cannot go there together we will leave hereafter
where will we go
we can try to share what we know
will we be able to help each other
we reach for it everyday all bound by the longing
will there ever be a day
we can call it what we may
yet all that remains is what we cannot share
I am sure I will get there
as for you I cannot say
all I know is when I leave I won't be able to tell you what it is like
inspired by Hereafter
julian Nov 2010
my emotional feedback alternates-
hot and cold
it is sometimes like fire and ice

my dreams totter back and forth-
hot and cold
it is sometimes like fire and ice

my weakness is strong-
hot and cold
it is sometimes like fire and ice

her beauty floors me-
hot and cold
it is sometimes like fire and ice

when they leave me alone-
hot and cold
it is sometimes like fire and ice

today the pinniacle is at it's peak-
hot and cold
it is sometimes like fire and ice
the poem that never ends...hot and cold it is sometimes like fire and ice
julian Jan 2010
i am the melting sun beams dripping from the children's running sneaker...creeping slow into the ocean of nose hairs sparkling with iodine and rosemary...father farther to the cosmic goop of motherhood and magic mounds of twirling gases...rancid beef so evergreen as if the princess is licking loudly on the frogs back...green of colour my third eye melts her fantasy into rainbows of toxic firearms...leaking valuable oil all over her wedding dress...come into the third eye and hammer away the truths of 1000 years...to fowrad this message is to embrace all that is the third eye...magic and numbers spiral towards the center edge of my reason...pure and criticized like goblins with tiny feet...reach up into your third eye and pull yourself into it with all your power and all your might....stay with it for just one night and reach for the spare tires in the third eyes trunk...don't forget to fill it with melting bubbles of fantastic hot sweet golden ratios where infinity smell like dust bunnies and dust bunnies smell like crystal salts and volcanic ash...spew forth third eye and share the vision of ecstasy and freedom...never cover the third eye with hate and regret only wash it with happiness and fullness...let the third eye rule your heart and towers will melt into concrete and paper will fill the sky...only the can the third eye truly be the way to see your path....spiral softly third eye and forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and forever see with the third eye....
julian Sep 2010
that seven days-
i still think about the idea of someone sleeping outside in the cold-
i get very nervous and sad-
when it's cold and i am smoking in front of my home-
then again i kinda smirk and smile-
i know it could happen again-
me outside after the library closes-
sitting and waiting-
wishing and hoping-
i never thought that day would come-
shopping at the dollar store-
thinking i can make it-
all i need is something-
if it rains-
if it rains-
if it rains-
well it did and it got dark-
so i chickened out of the outdoors-
i went in search of warmth-
i found the only fresh grass in the whole parking lot-
darkness is different in the forest-
darkness is different in the city-
the first of my reflections of being homeless...
julian Nov 2010
It was the worst and the best of times
as once was said
crawling out of bed will no recollection in my head
about how I awoke with a start
from a fresh blackout and emptiness in my heart
naked I was when I awoke
yet the felling was not of a birth
more of a progression into my lost and bewildered soul
I have yet to be called old
so my adavantage in my game of addiction is 30:Love
back and forth
back and forth
wildly chasing the green little ball
a tennis match of epic proportions
It pains me to be in this match for I have begun the game without shoes
Yet now I see that what will protect me feet was never far from me
a little on my addiction to alcohol and drugs...today I am sober...
julian Jan 2010
my eyes fell into my dreams last night...i searched for them for three million days...
i went to the halls but found only suits of rotten gold...i went to the movies but found only ******* with tiny worms *******...i went to the bookstore but couldn't afford to enter...i went to the cemetery and tripped over all the empty graves...i went to the city but couldn't walk because i was hit by three billion cars...i went to the schools but found only ear less teenagers with red bull smiles...i went to the lunchroom and smelled the greasy spoons...i went to the barber but to many hairs filled my mouth and made it hard to breath...i went to the swimming pool but found polluted water and oily animals devouring any leftovers...i went to the hillside but the view was blocked by tall black clouds...i went to the forest but fell into a plastic bucket...i went to the mountain tops but found nothing not even snow...i went to the valley and threw up on all the dead bodies...i went to the steppes and found robotic horses with glaring red eyes and really bad breath...i went to the hospital and found only sickness and no health...i went to the ocean but could not swim with the dolphins because they tried to eat my clothes...i went to the islands and found only weapons sharpened with blood...i went to the stars but could not see...my eyes have fallen and i can't pick them up...
julian Oct 2011
Grand estates dripping with vibrancy and luxury

Oh that sweet tune

Blow horn man blow

Precious stones deep within caverns of gold

Star gazing and soul waiting

Dreams of us and songs of lust

Faster, faster, wolf cub roam

Until the morning light reaches home

Care for me my love

Share with you I must

Darling, oh my darling

Just a few

Of my favorite things
John Coltrane...helping me get back in to the poetic groove........enjoy hep cats
julian Sep 2010
O' life-
the red bushes of soft ecstasy-
O' my wounds ever sore-
blistering in the hot sun of December frosts-
O' glorious sadness-
the concrete beauty weeps-
O' joy-
my ocean of skeletons and dive bombing fish destroy the American-
O' fruit-
that grows from the earth bound with thy vein-
O' fair lady-
long hair flowing majestically in the spring breeze-
O' father-
who is a wicked crook that feeds on the thieves of my dreams-
O' you-
standing in the dry mud of song lessons-
O' weather-
cold on my neck where bugs surface-
O' Terror...
the beginning of the "O' Terror" poem-parts will be added at my leisure :)
this part was touched up for the internet...meaning it's not as true to the original version as the other parts...
julian Oct 2010
O' woman crying in her crowded heart, sleep one more day
with me in my nightmare hell-
O' dwindle in the shade of spades-
O' return to the valley of icy stew, where the tiger mourns his lost wheel-
O' where are our lovely stars, in the fields of endless skies-
O' rapture and silence-
O' greedy fool, let you stop that drool-
O' climb with me to the heavens of speckled dust, where forests of hatred
burn like wonderful amber moons-
O' why does thy heart dive and swoop-
O' what is it behind your corner of gold that the lions hide away from the ancient songs of everlasting beauty-
O' food soft and moist I lick thy sweetness from her brow-
O' soft and frail ***** cat, where is your steaming ball of yarn that thy
plays with in the cold sun-
this part is more true to the original version of O' Terror than part 1
the original version of O' Terror was written in 2003
julian Oct 2010
O' is it me and her I see in my dream, feeding on the dancers last leg-
O' is it us that cries for the pain in lost love, or the affair of pleasure hiding in thy mountain's peak-
O' I say let her come to me softly, slowly, and with great fists, fiery and dripping wetness in my wound-
O' fair country side, where the stream flows in opposite direction-
O' where I see thy fish drunkenly waiting for the sea otters-
O' otters of the sea, king of the night, why has thy heart sunken in her eyes, why does the bear not eat her berries-
O' is she tired and long in the way we stand-
julian Oct 2010
O' with the mink's wheel the pirate cranks out a sweet ballad of desperate tragedy-
O' when will her sun set in my valley of various rays-
O' mountain horse and stinky steed, where is your knight in the abandoned dew-
O' shrewd sheep let me have your wool, for me it is not, I pray for the baby stars of the hungry day-
O' dream let me awaken from your hold-
O' day so fair and wild I see not the climate of your youth, I see not the Shepard's cane-
O' night long and slender let me clean your dark with my forming brew-
O' let there be someway to see the roads that flash amber in her eyes, in her mouth snow forms rocky terrain and I cannot pass-
in case your curious I am splitting the poem up in part because I do not like to read full page poems on the internet...so i would not put the reader through such agony as well...
julian Oct 2010
O'  end of quarrels in the sandy desert-
O' terror weep for thy innocent lion-
O' terror she has no cause, where can she go when rocks disappear into red rivers of lost artifacts, where she has no gun, only her *****-
O' I see you are selfish-
O' I see you hate, and ask of you to stop your explosions, stop your suicide, and let us all enter her body-
O' the dreams are there, warm and legal-
O' we can all drink from your oil wells, but must stop your anger first-
O' I shall seek her otter, will she be far behind-
O' terror can you do this, my simple request, we shall enter her body together, like children we still are and always can be-
think i am going to dedicate a group to this poem...
julian Mar 2010
I used to run-Never for fun--I would more often be running away from something than to it. I think it started in childhood. Never staying in one place long enough to have to fight every kid in the school.-I liked and i hated it. More often i had no control over it. On reflection it was for the better, my nose bleed too much for a kid my age. -In the second phase of my running career I began running out. Never telling the bosses to go play in heavy tracffic or do your **** self. I had morales and above all practised good manners. Instead i would tell the bosses that i was taking out the trash and make my freedom dash. -Oh, beleive me I flet free. The funny part was when the bosses would call my parents. Just as countless pricipals would do when i skipped classes. My parents would luagh and call them an ***. -Then i began running away. I only did it once...well that's a lie. I ran away from my highschool guidence office, far too drunk to face my parents scorn. "Yeah i drank it all. i replaced it with water, much healthier." -The last time I ran away I thought I was going to find myself. I had lost a part of myself to drugs and alcohol. I thought for sure i would find myself on the other side of the country on a small island on the Pacific Ocean. I went to rehab and could not find the person i went looking for. I thought briefly i had found myself, but when I looked in the mirror i could not even recognize my own face. I blamed my mustache. -I realized that running away to find myself i ran away from my family and my friends. Alas the old dies so the new can be born. -In my opinion if one is to run away it's for good. Never to return to such and such a place again, unless of course you have to do your taxes.
julian Feb 2012
Silent and the silence...

Screams at four in the morning...many times it's at three in the morning...

They got punked for their crack, coke, ******, maybe it was pills...

They fight the good fight over there...soldiers in deserts of war...

Yet here in my community I see the dealers and the ******...

I am sorry for that word, excuse me...I never made it up...

In Swansea City they fill the needles with puddle water...

I have heard they do that here...

She never planned on being a *****...

Turned to the dope...thought it would heal the sore...

My friend went to get himself put on the liquid handcuffs...

That's what the junkies call methadone...

I sat in the waiting room and watched them enter...

Some brought their children

One chap was with his dad...

They are looked the same

Trying to relieve themselves of sadness and pain

Have hope, sweet child...mommy is here

Have hope, dear reader...because not all will succumb to their fears
I have been wondering if there is a correlation between the rise of ****** addiction and the war in Afghanistan...maybe i am to young to realize it has always been that way...seems fishy doesn't it?
julian Feb 2012
Grabbing the dust

She smells my air up all the time

Thief and it's funny

We care...but lack control

We love...but the sun still shines

Soggy grime...needles in the puddle

He is her friend last

She is his lover first

There is no place for the evicted songs we sing

There is love in the rain

Sunshine and love

All the days are worth it

We are more together

&

Nothing alone
yes it's supposed to say sogs :)
julian Sep 2010
something told me to get up-
the bus stopped and i left it feeling lost-
i knew what town i was in-
had for several years-
ten o'clock was coming on-
same with fatigue-
i had some ****-
so i went in search for a place to smoke out for the rest of the night-
even just to lay my body out would be alright-
the garden center was full of soil and sod-
plastic chairs stung all along the wall-
i crept into the sod tent-
i could not afford any rent-
i smoked a joint that night-
i really just wanted soft sleep-
the first of the three nights i slept in the sod tent-
never really got it all figured out-
until my last night-
by that time i had a nice palace-
i was king in my sod tent-
which i squatted in-
different i suppose from breaking in-
second of my reflections of being homeless
julian Nov 2010
read this book they said-
read this book it's so wonderful-
read this book it will change your life-

That book I did read...

While I read the book late one dreary night
It had taken a hold of me with a serious bite
It held my hand in it's grip
Yet the pages I read did not rip
This book began to chew up toward my elbow
Sharp and quick like the deadly crossbow
Bending my arm causing ****** harm
I tried to toss it aside
Only thing was it ate faster up my pride
I could only think to myself...
They lied
Can it be this book that bites the hand that reads it will cause me to die?
julian Jan 2011
the brand new baby shoes loose on the wire
electrical hot passionate desire
many a nights i sleep with visions
visions haunting yet pure
i want her to be next to me in the morning
her beautiful wings can never be clipped
passion to the highest levels can not match any amount of learning
as the spider weaves it's web beware not to be caught alone
always something with the mind or body to confound the lonely
always reaching for her whispers and never learning
the time piece has broken and the dream is lost
with happiness and a little white ship
i sail to the peaceful shore
capital judgments and aches and pains
leave me hanging the noose as the chain
so i give in to wisdom and purity
the road is full of traffic and obstacles
this land is ours today
so come with me let's dance and play
julian Jan 2010
sticky grease monkeys gathered around my magical wheels of strawberry puddles...stroking the pit of bones and mud i found the triangle lock that holds together fountains of the golden castles...into the gate i ride with gears made from electrodes and synapses ...breaking fast to avoid the ***** little princess and her rotten tiara...why do the princes gather in ******* blue and black...why do the mud men rain ***** on all the free horses...why do the horse gather under rainbows of supercharged mold...puffy ******* explode into orange fissure inside the dragons arch...under it i pass with the giant peaches of all the kings gone by...they told me to ride my bike into the realm of forever...they said go to where the girl is standing sad... in her mouth is lights of broken bulbs...reach into the glass pieces and find the rectangle and you should be ****** into the universes of white hawks and grabbing children...play with them before they melt into angry adults forgetful of infinite imagination...tell them to make hand puppets out of red cans...and grease the cylinders with organic stew not synthetic fibers and intestines of optical wires...tell them stop...tell them there are places inside where you can dream all day as long... as long as you light the night with organic candles of soft ******* of pulsing energy...and take with you all if they listen and let the others play in the cold winters ..let them bathe in dirt water...let them eat the ashes of rubber and iron...tell those who only want to play that they can sing all night but don't tell them what songs to sing...they will not know what to do and will just stay or go away...with the ones who listen... show them the path and give them names like happiness and joy...and make them take the path with you only until theirs is ready...once they go their way you can go to the shore of the love bear and shave his back and turn the fur into little bunnies with bubbling eyes of shining trust...if all goes like you wish the keep peddling and ride your bike into the hole in your brain...
julian Nov 2010
twisted bicycles and empty pop cans line the longest street in the world-
making my way ever closer to the frozen city I catch a glimpse of the relics of yesterday-
paper bags and frost covered couches-
chilled passengers seeking the brief warmth of the morning commute-
sunlight and frost dance together and create crisp partnerships forever more-
the bus driver has no trust in cats-
the great dane out with it's friend sparks memories of my past-
bitten in the face yet still loving dogs with such grace-
the frozen city awakes as the relics of last night claim their place-
julian Jan 2010
in a dream i saw the earth's last sunrise and sunset...i ceased forever to occur...and became the energy of transition...i imagined the sun as infinite trust and am aware that the sun is always...so are the stars and moons of every system...the same as all the systems in all of us...
us...red...orange...yellow...green...blue...violet....screa­ming at the sun i asked for the ocean of energy to fill me and create a reef of living cells...each pulsing and vibrating as solo flakes of melting snow...eyes so wild and shining that every time i saw them they saw me... and in them the heavens...in the heavens i watched the beating hearts...stroking as if hit by all the drummers simultaneously...spiral blood veins rotating forever in the streams and nooks of human canyons...and birds soaring among them with bright wings of golden triangles...swiftly filling the dry skin filled with sugars and mountain trees...spiral to the edge of all intellect and spiral to the beginning of all thought...each firing massive swarms of hot air in all the open holes and freeing all the grass...cooling the hairs stretching on top of all our heads...walking from the ooze... we dance the songs in spiral trances connecting the hairs and grass so stretched and vast...crunching the bones of asphalt and concrete skeletons...rubbing them into tall glass trees with plastic windows and rocky leaves...spiral onward mighty creature of infinite birth and infinite death...breath in the energy...the universes is my body and so can you...
julian Oct 2011
Cracks on the sidewalk can be an introduction into the greatest moments in time-
One can trip an entire year among those cracks-
Never considering the pressure a day can bring-
Now being in the place where addicts roam-
The cracks can sometimes feel like home-
Lost among us are the ones that never grow-
Yet *****, and grime ridden, some cracks are worth more than gold-
If your paying attention you can see the cracks reaching-
Reaching-
For the things of the sun-
i live on a street where drugs and prostitution is a mainstay-being a recovering addict/alcoholic i wrote
this poems for the ones who dream of better days
and the ones who are working to achieve those dreams....
julian Feb 2012
This one's going to be good

**** it...quit walking so **** heavy

The floor...if it was ice...you would be in the cold water

Your anger frustrates me...sometimes I really hate them...

Bunch of addicts...sometimes that comment is funny...

Other times I mean it

Rats in the walls...but really they are mice

Little green pieces of hardened poison

In the sheets

In my toes...no...that never happened

But

I will tell you this never drop your keys in a foot of snow....
julian Sep 2010
we lived in the same house once-
he showed me how to break into my own room-
that's why i think he stole sixty bucks off me-
i guess it was a pre-installment-
a payment for a time somewhere down the line-
he swallowed his pride in order to swallow food that day-
yet he lied about his name-
i knew it-
i call him "the grifter"-
spring night crept in-
i hung out with him for most of the day-
i did not want to show him my sleeping spot-
i tried to make a break for it-
he followed-
in the end-
it was him that shared a sleeping spot-
we snaked ourselves into the transport-
quiet cozy i may say-
warm also-
i dreamed that he stole my last five bucks-
it was just a dream-
i don't think i have seen or talked to him since-
maybe i just walked the other way-
third part of the homeless series...all of which are based on my homeless experience...true story...
:0

— The End —