It's not me, it's you
these words they haunt beds
but I can sleep at night.
Rather be cold, covered, and neglected
than hot, naked, and rejected.
Yeah you're winning cause you have feelings
but nothing is ever what it seems.
Crying and purging at the thought of my body
but I won't let you see me because I'm shaking.
You're so far away from my tree that I appear
to be still but my leaves are trembling.
I never asked for thunder and rain,
you were supposed to bury the pain.
Instead I watched as you endlessly shoveled to find
the root, so the the thorn in your heart can be extracted.
But I won't let you get soil deep
forever bound
chained and held in my hand
curled up defeated
a snail in a shell.
Sicker everyday.... all because I didn't wish you well.

Shame
fingers point
and they blame
you.
Libra weigh the scales
I'm tired of the lower hand
I want you so bad it's stupid
It's stupid that I want bad news
Yearning centuries now for something new.
I want you so bad it's stupid
it's stupid that I want you so bad
so bad, my want is bad,
but I'm stupid for you.

The Victim and The Villain
interchanging between the two
chemistry ignited in red
but now we're entering the blues
The positions they change as frequent
as lies that transform into truth.
The Victtim and The Villain
they live inside of us;
and they live inside of you.

The warehouse of my mind is empty.

Muted blues, like a Miles Davis groove,
begin to fill the dusky expanse.
Deep purples, plums and cherries,
a hint of vermilion,
all flow down onto the floor of my consciousness.

The colors, each separated from the other,
swirl and drain into a wormhole that has formed
in the floor.

My consciousness follows.

I enter a place filled with bicycles, skateboards,
fireflies, honeysuckle, super heroes and pets.

Scenery flashes by in rapid-fire succession like trees
on the side of the side of the road when I was a little
kid with my head hanging out of the car window
until my mom yelled at me to put my head back in
the car, were it belonged.

Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Brandon the boy in the bubble and Doctor Wise...

The boy in the bubble
Never wanted any trouble

People said "your too fragile you'll get cancer"
So he would just make believe, pretend he was a cool agile panther
People said "your body will crumble like wood flooring rots"
So he would pretend, staying humble that he could fly over the jungle with soaring hawks

Aisles of adventures were all he sought
" I'll be in this bubble til I'm wearin' dentures", so he thought...

His doctor would come every other day
Just to make sure everything was okay
He went by Dr. "W" first initial J

One random paralyzed tuesday
Brandon sat in his sterilized room lettin' blues play
The doctor came to repeat the check up
Brandon was the same from shoulders to feet and neat from the neck up
The doctor asked "Son why are you in this bubble?"
Brandon said "The people told me the air could kill me and the sun would be worst trouble"
The doctor told Brandon "the world is a mysterious place in our galaxy, but you'll never know for yourself until you go face the challenge B"

The doctor lifted the window wide open and let in the breeze
As the fresh air hit his face, Brandon didn't so much as sneeze

Brandon - "Wow doc you must save thousands of lives"

Dr. W - "Not really, I just tell people this; Everybody lives, everybody smiles, everybody cries, everybody dies and

EEEEVVVVERYBODY LIES...

-J.A.M

We don't really speak anymore
But we're okay; I swear we're okay.
We aren't broken yet
Just a little bit bent
With some duct tape and glue
We'll be back to new again.
Don't turn away yet
Give me some time to regroup
And find the motivation
To drag us up out of the blues.
I'm not trying my best
But I sincerely want to
After five years we're put to the test
And if we fail, I know we'll be through.
But, devil take it, I still love you.
You're my sister in every way that counts
And without you, where would I be now?
You're my anchor and the beginning of my past
And I'll be damned if I can't make this last.
When I was more than ready to kill myself
You were my lifeline,you gave me help
And now our bond's fading away
But as long as we aren't broken
We can fix this someday.

I'm drunk,
and in a flunk.
I know speaking while inebriated may not be the best idea,
as well as tending to those with gonorrhea .
Sorry it just fit the rhyming scheme,
had not intent to demean .
But sentences seem to flow so clearly,
while under the influence of whiskey.
So I wonder if it really is something I should refrain from.
or an old wives told by doctors to seem fearsome.

Though to think like that your doomed for an early grave.
Liver failure is no grateful save.
So I suppose it's time I give up the delightful sin
before liver failure starts to win.
So farewell jaundice,
despite our fondness.
I'm giving up this clarity
for a new outlook and some moral prosperity.

Put your teeth in the glass, baby,
Daddy took a little blue pill
Put your teeth in the glass, baby,
Daddy took a little blue pill
If you won't smoke my white owl
I know the patient in 456A will.

Do you hear the sounds of music playing?
The tone and feel that keeps you swaying.
         The recurring beat, the tapping feet,
         The strings lusty, and the keys sweet.

Each style diverse in feeling and spirit,
Each sound distinct if you can hear it.
Yet they are all beautiful in unique ways
And may seem to place you in a daze.

A classical piece full of beauty and grace,
Violins, cellos, percussion, and bass,
An orchestra full of musicians and skill,
        The audience moved yet sitting quite still.

The loud, and crazy, and pounding rock concert
Where all energy saved is brought to exert.
Guitar distortion and drums with power,
A crowd head-banging, hour after hour.

Rappers who speed like an antique auctioneer
Bring out the beats and rap with no fear.
Dance circles and moves are sure to form,
If hip-hop starts, the dancers swarm.

A small jazz band with smooth rhythm and time
Play the sounds of old and make us feel prime.
The trumpets, the snaps, the cool suede shoes,
All sights and sounds of the old-time blues.

Music holds joy and moves the soul,
Music is collective and is one and whole.
Though conflicting styles and motives may be,
Music was made for you and for me.

You tell me that I am young
That life has merely licked me, not stung
That I do not understand, that I have not yet lived
Enough to grasp the substance

I have known disease
Slow tears, muted pleas
Pain that nothing could appease
I have known the smell of hospitals for summers
The beeping and slurping of machine in massive numbers

I have spoken to voiceless loved ones,
Loved ones with teethless mouths and twisted tongues
Distorted jaws and wheezing lungs.
We have spoken with little green charts
And broken hearts
From the inability to connect the mouth to the thoughts in the head
And I left without understanding,
What they had said
Because I eventually had to let it go
(I still don't know)

I have spent countless summer nights
In nature’s garb, floating silently in a river
So warm that my limbs, skimming the surface, didn't shiver
Under a clear sky, the stars like paradisiac lights
Without anyone ever finding out
About these wild and primal escapades

I've drank, I've smoked
I have burned my throat
With coarse lemon gin
Until I could no longer feel my skin.

I have been frightened
Yes I have felt fear, like a noose around my throat being tightened
Like a gruesome black crow, perched on my shoulder
I have often awoken affright at night,
Longing, praying, for the morning light
I have felt fear, wild, fierce and turbulent fear
More than anyone will everyone will ever know
By men, by life, by myself
Desolate under the sheets, like a forsaken toy
All by myself

I have seen Paris in the rain
Traveled the French countryside by train
I've woken up to New York window views
And seen New Orleans afternoons, filled with heat and blues.
I've swam the Mexican Baja waters, turquoise and clear
With snakes as sharp as spears

I have known humiliation
Causing my cheeks to turn carnation
A spoon, emptying my insides out
Like a gourd

I have loved
I have known the aching pain of a swelled heart
And the way it can tear you apart
I have gushed torrents upon my pillows and sleeves
Tears running down my chin like guilty thieves
From a lit-up house

I have known death, and grief
The meaning of "never"
Whimpering in the school bathroom
And cold, lonely nights

I have seen the works of Van Gogh, Mondrian, and Miro,
Modigliani, Cezanne, and Frida Kahlo
Of Monet, Gauguin, Matisse, Magritte, and Picasso
I have wandered through hallways of masterpieces
Holding tight to my grandmother's hand
And I have wept shamelessly for joy
Before Degas's La classe de danse

I have been diagnosed
I have undergone computer programs designed to shift my brain, to better it
To get me to be normal, to submit
I have had brain-altering medicine shoved down my throat,
Like stuffing a goose,
To make my brain run a little less loose
And I have submitted and gotten use to my brain being altered.

I have had kisses that were mere trifles
Frivolous, yet fierce and acute like shots from a rifle
Lips of mere flesh, not sweet godly nectar
And gazes that meant everything
That seemed to connect with an invisible yet indestructible string
Iris like distant galaxies and pupils twinkling like black jewels
Eyes that seemed enkindled by some ethereal fuel
Speaking of emotions far too secluded, cryptic and cluttered
To be worded and uttered

I know the way in which violence resides
Not in commotion, brusqueness, nor physical harm
But in silence
In the time that covers pain and secrets
In the slow impossibility of trust
In the way that some secrets become inconceivable to tell, time has so covered them in rust
In that dull, dismal ache
In all that is doomed to remain forever opaque.

I have read, for pleasure,
The works of Balzac, Fitzgerald, Steinbeck, and Voltaire
Of Bobin, Gaude, and Baudelaire
Of Flaubert, Hemingway
and good old Bradbury, Ray
Émile Zola,  Primo Levi
Moliere, Rousseau, and Bukowski
I have read, and loved, and understood

I have known insomnia
The way a beach knows the tides
Sleepless nights of convulsive, feverish panic, of clutching my sides,
Of silent hysteria and salty terror.
I know what happens at night, when sweet slumber seems so far away
The worries and woes seem to multiply and swell in hopeless disarray
My lips grow pale, my eye grow sunken
As a time ticks by, tomorrow darkens




I have witnessed horror
In the form of a blue body bag
Being rolled out with a squeaking drag
By two yellow-vested men
With apologetic eyes
That seemed to say "Oh god
We're so sorry you had to see that
Please, please
Go home
And try to forget"

But you are right
I am still just a child
Naive, innocent, and pure
I have known nothing dark or obscure
I have not yet lived.

Dive deep into the abyss of the night sky,
or perhaps the never-ending deep of the ocean,
the darkened atmosphere on a rainy day;
A shade always known but never remembered.

Imagine the feeling of loneliness,
never fitting in anywhere, even though you belong,
always mistaking you for someone else;
Never getting to be yourself.

Gaze upon the deepest hue in midnight irises,
their delicate petals showing it well,
a beauty in nature not often seen;
Always a wonder to behold.

Reach into your mind and pull out the pigment,
of your third eye, intuition, blackened wonder,
never a favorite, so complicated,
yet between these blues and purples,
it is certainly my favorite of all.

light a cigarette for the good years
for a man never known or found again
huff and puff i sit
in the couch that eats me alive
the sky has had it's limit
and it won't stop crying
coffee is the misery
and the company are memories