with a watchers patience
he unfolded the chair
rusted to the doorstep
with fine grains of red
like a thousand fingers
wander till the cold dawn breaks
searching for my souls ease
your life is the slamming
of typewriter keys
to paint with crafted words the world you would dream
the world she would love you in
your life is the desperate holding at bay the hours evaporating
into a future you cannot
comprehend
but fret over
like the wringing of sweaty hands
pacing the hall
small bald fat men
with neatly pressed brooks brothers suits
but fret over like the well greased
plans and carefully laid desings
of another mans futures past misgivings
i fought with all i had
i gave all my heart and soul
till my very bones ached
fought till i could bear no more
till i fell
in the first breakers of dawn
in the first shallow fingers of dawn
will you pass the shilling test?
your life is the slamming
of typewriter keys
to paint with crafted words the world you would dream
the world she would love you in
your life is the desperate holding at bay the hours evaporating
into a future you cannot
comprehend
into a land as foreign as another world
into a mist of unknowns
my leather bound case and trench coat
bible and cookware
a shilling for the ferryman
but fret over
like the wringing of sweaty hands
pacing the hall
small bald fat men
with neatly pressed brooks brothers suits
but fret over like the well greased
plans and carefully laid designs
of another mans futures past misgivings
will you pass the shilling test
another day and far away from such
musings i find myself at odds with
myself over the course i should follow
on this days misadventure
i have known deep seasons of love
and iv known vast feilds of emptyness and fear
these days are a mystry to me
i cannot see my way
NATO confiscated my calculator as a weapon of math destruction
Or
Matches to a pyrotechnic cartographer are weapons of map destruction
Or
Moth eggs in the wardrobe are weapons of mac destruction
Or
Nuclear bombs used in warfare are weapons of mans destruction
any action brings
intolerable dreams
inaction is not possible
decree of destitution
the image to impart to you
is a small framed window
single paine glass
old old glass
the kind that gave little more
than greasy distorted image
and the contained within is the fleeting distant
cries pleading and warning
calling for hope within a
decree of destitution
both a wretched creature malformed and ill
and man stout and fair within the same coffin of flesh
innocence vilified
as if they were mere
words these phrases i throw
down on the page with the haste of rage
as if mere words could blast and sunder stone
as these have the cold rock of my heart
as if mere words could rip screaming vengeance
from the blood faces of a battlefield
but that is the nature of warring desires
within the cage of one mans soul
no....these words i wrest from burning rage
are not passing fancy on some distant summers day
but the very fingers of murder clawing for
purchase on vile enemy's throat
the very sweat of the embittered battle between
sworn foe
but that is the nature of warring desires
within the cage of one mans soul
i cannot contain my fear
it run rampant in the fresh planted fields
of plans come to naught
my rancid terror dances and tramples
thru the ordered lines of what we have built
my horror
feeds loose and hungry
on the fallow crop
distorted and screaming obscenity's at your soft skin
the discharge of pointless angers
retort to my hope
i cannot remain seated here a moment longer
dedicated to silentwriter, a friendly voice in the darkness of my night
My best friend, the one who is always there.
My best friend, the one with golden hair.
My best friend, with a smile that is broken and a heart that means no harm.
My best friend hides her feelings, under her fearless soul.
Not a lot of people get to see my best friend in her true form.
Not a lot of people really appreciate what my best friend does for everyone else.
That makes you the foul presence hiding under your clothes like a vampire hides
from light,
That makes you the bad person, for withdrawing such delight.
I get to see this side of my best friend, not you. So before you go on judging take a look from another mans shoes, not mine. For your the one who mean’t such harm, not her, nor me, or them... But you.
This is how my
Life began
Mother tryed
Giving birth while
Smoking crack from
A coke can.
Old man was pissing the
Night away down
The local pub making
Love to another mans
Wife.
A year or too
Went by mothers
Still getting high
Father left had enough
( when really he ran away
With next doors wife )
Just waiting for a boy
Or girl to arrive in to
This fucked up
World what good would
That do.
Mother couldnt afford
Any food or clothes
Shoes had holes
Crack took all the
Money from the dole
Times were getting tough as I grew older
Noticing she sold all
My stuff
Birthday and chrismas
Presents went to another mans kids
All I had to play with
Was wooden spoons
And saucepan lids
My sister had barbie
An polly pocket
Me empty coke cans
Using them as space
Rockets.
Got me thinking
Am I the only boy on this
Earth to carry a curse.
I wonna know how it started mothers smoking
Heaverly amounts why
Aint me and she retarded just want to pack my bags and leave
Supprised any one can breath after all them
Fumes poisoning the
Air take one look
At mother she not really care she ! You in there
Stand up
So I can see you watch
Where your walking
Mothers so fucked
She mumberling instead of talking ...
What a fucked up family
I was born in ...
There is this idea, this feeling you say:
A revelation of profound compassion
Riddled with crippling paramount tribulation
Dribbling with drops of pontification.
Thoughtfully and yet aimlessly kicking
Unctuously vacuous presumptions. Promising,
Eventually, to unveil brick by brick
This facade someday and assure me
The imprisoning edifice, with which you keep
Under lock and key, will be effaced
And naked, soon, someday in front of me.
Yet, here another day passes.
From curbside to manhole, up sidewalks and across gravel grit.
Then a squib toward onlookers window shopping
Glaring down at me as both they and you listen
To my dissonant and hollow caterwaul.
CLING, CLANG, BANG! Look at me I'm just a can!
Crumpled and malleable, a thin sheet of five cent aluminum;
Recyclable, reusable, just a means to a mans end.
Ah! But I am not what you think I am:
Within, a bountiful boisterous bloom, unravels
The arid breath of lies and procrastination you exhume.
Your insipid words fall vapidly in my mind like corroded rust
Gently drifting onto a lapping lake.
They are an erroneous ear infection boring my wits
And dulling my thoughts, a waste of time.
All of it bottled, canned, and manufactured
From within your bullshit emporium.
Keep your bricks and mortar, think they retain your unctuous pride
While this time, for once, I kick the can curbside.
Do you see him behind me?
Stood, in mists of muddy red, with arms gesticulating;
I can't...
With opened closures.
It aint the same everwhere
But I know it take a man
To stand and stare
Down them gallows
In Zebullon county square
Lil Mae
pass age 21 just other day
saw her man with another
moaned
"I'm gonna make you pay"
now i know what some of you wanna say
"Lil Mae get a gun make that man pay"
To mad to see to hurt to care
Lil Mae stormed her way down to
Zebullon county square.
Bobby Lee was a simple man
but they called him nigger boy
to proud to be dumb
could read and write
Yet he never let no one know
One night Bobby Lee was a workin late
bumped into a drunk, in a
darkened alley Bobby Lee picked a fight
The boy took a beating by four whites
then the blood poured out into the streetlight
Soon enough the sheriff came a runnin
"whats the matter here!!"
white men shouted
"the boy had it coming, he took my money
try to kill me, sheriff I had to do something!!"
12 days later 12 men had a shine
sentenced Booby Lee to hang
Saturday morning half past nine
sun be coming up behind him
so his shadow
would grow tall on that line.
Sun rose cool that day
Folks lined up to watch Ol
Bobby Lee pay.
Soon they all began to scatter
preacher man shouted
'"whats a matta"
Lil Mae had come with blade readied
for her last stand
"Preacher man" Lil Mae shouted
"you goin to hell, no doubt about it"
"Im gonna send you there by my hand."
silver plated blade glistened in the sky
"lord my soul is impure, dont let me die!"
Blood poured from the preachers throat
Lil Mae watched that man til his last choke
Crowd screamed "NO!!" but it fell on Gods deaf ears
"Lil Mae" came her mans voice
"why you do it?"
She reckoned "I had no choice"
"I love you but you put me to it.
you and this preacher man ripped me apart."
Lil Mae's man stood in the middle of the square
tears draining life, sobs stealing air......
Bobby Lee innocent as he was
unwrapped his noose
and slowly walked away
Lil Mae stood her ground on them gallows
but it gave way
half pass nine
she fell in line
the sun made her shadow tall
dead before her body
went through the gallows fall
Toothless smile
And blistered tongue
Poor mans bile
And rich mans thumb
Stolen styles and shotguns drums
Thumping
Pumping
Slumping one
Fights for life of spraying stumps
Fidget
The ridges
Collect and run
Dangle
Deities
Idols of the one
Twist the keep of creepers stun
Praise
The haze
Of lucid thought
Bane
Ablaze
In fish nets caught
Hooks
Rusted
Of trusted broth
Be the burn
And learn to talk
Broken
And battered
Speak with god
See the flame
Beyond the troff
Be the blame
And take the loss
All the same
A discount cost
Take them down
To meet the boss
Collect the rounds
And find the lost
Swipe my blade
Across the face
Blossomed bite
Of knighted states
Meet a devil
You fucked to live
Seal the anvil
Tucked in your ribs
Be the boom
That breaks the walls
Clear the room
Assume the faults
Breaking down
You count the kills
Mounting anger
Turned to thrills
Seeing stranger
Prescribe the pills
Always dangled
The carrot wields
Hanging awkward
Opposing wills
