If I stayed any longer,
Who knows?
I might have gone insane too.

He told me his name.
I never asked him why he was there,
Why everyone else avoided him.  

I regret it now
But now is not the time,
There is no time left.  

He said he could get out
Whenever he wanted.
He just had no reason to go.  
He told me if I would come with him,
Stay with him forever, we’d leave.  

Can you imagine that?
He even said he loved me.  
The weirdest part is, I think I loved him to.
I would keep trying to remember
Where this love was taking place,
In this asylum but, I always forgot.

All we had to do was walk out.  
Nobody touched us.  
When we were out, we ran, and ran, and ran.  
In the middle of the forest,
There was no way they could find us,
We still wanted to be safe.

We found a cave in which we could stay,
Until we had enough strength to explore.
There was plenty of apples and firewood around.  
That first night, I just ate, and ate, and ate.  

I noted the big willow tree
and boulder next to the exit.
Natural, and calm.
This was a place of my refuge,
Where I would be happy.

We set out to explore,
The cave must have been close to the surface,
There were cracks in the ceiling that lit our way.
The cave was filled with tunnel after tunnel.  
Sometimes the tunnel would split into five or six
And we would have to choose one.
Giving the false sense of direction
As we wandered, aimless.
  
When I got scared,
He would assure me it would all be fine.
That must have been the worst lie,
Anyone has ever told me.

I finally worked up the courage
To ask him why he was in the asylum.  
He told me he could fool the mind.
Fool it into believing its body was in pain,
He said his looks could kill.

I scoffed.  

He stared at me,
Completely bewildered.  
I clearly thought him insane.  
He let that slide.  

He never kissed me fully, passionately.  
They were always short and sweet.  
He only brushed my face
When he wanted me to calm down,
Making jokes whenever
I was having second thoughts.
  
He was using me.  
I was a shield, nothing more.  
I would have to be disposed of.

Back to staring,
I realized that his back
Is not made of duck feathers.
My scoff doesn't slide.

I ran faster I’d ever run before.
All this flew through my mind
As I scrambled up from the cave floor for the third time.
The exit was just around the corner.
It just had to be.  

As I stumbled back
Onto the cold hard rock
The exit came into view.
I saw the light shimmering on the broken rock.
The shadow of a willow tree.
Ironically I was so happy I could cry.  
I’d hide in the trees
I’d never have to see this murderer again.  
Tripped for the fourth time.

I looked up,
Still sprawled out on the cave floor.  
There was a hole in the ceiling,
Sending shattered shafts of light to where I was lying.  
I watched the dust fall in lazy spirals.

I jumped off the floor.
Back to my peril,  
I heard his sluggish footsteps.
Turned around for one last look.
He stood in those shattered beams of light
Glaring at me.

Now on my feet, I stood
In the dark half of the spacious hall of rock
As if that would help my situation.  
If only I could fade into the shadows.  
I was trapped.
With no escape but the cave's tunnels behind me,
Or the death awaiting me.  

Just a few more steps back.  

He’s eyes snapped to my feet,
"You don’t want to do that.”
Back to my face.
His smile was only evident in his voice.
He was right.  
I didn’t want to die in that moment.  

The room’s light darkened
As if someone had put out the sun.
I knew it was coming.

I loved him.
He may not love me now.
He may never have.
But I don’t care.  
If I never loved him,
I may not be in this situation,
I might not be about to die.  
But it was worth it.  

Those smiles,
Stolen kisses and touches,
Just the sound of his voice.
Running in the middle of the forest
Away from the asylum.
It was all worth the pain I was about to feel.  

We stood staring at each other,
Waiting for the other to make the first move.  
The tension mounted.
Hatred started coming off him in waves,  
Hitting me over and over
Threatening to pull me under.  
I could feel his anger.

The air seemed to thicken,
Weighing down on me,
Forcing from me my last breath.
Draining me of what little strength
I had left to remain standing.

I began to gasp for air,
Unable to feel my lungs expand.
Feel the relief of oxygen in my blood.  
My eyes were locked in his
Begging to turn away,
To save my life.  

I was mesmerized.
Like prey waiting for the snake to strike  
I watched helplessly as his face,
Distorted with anger, began to twitch.  

I could see the words that would end this,
Begin to form on his lips.
Waiting to be released.
Slope off his spit stained organ.  
After the agony of anticipation seemed to reach its peak.  
They dropped like acid into the open air.

I lost the fight against the pressure.
Finally crumbling under the strain,
I rested on my knees.
Holding my head in my hands
Preparing to resist the attack.

It hit me full force
Like a subway train at full speed.
I did all I could not to cry out,
To give in to this miserable existence,
To give him the satisfaction of my death.  

I broke out in a cold sweat
As my muscles continued to fight,
Melting with the strain.  
Adrenaline pumped through my veins
As the true attack began.  

The pain started at the tips of my fingers and toes.  
Slowly crawling, burning,
It continued to eat away at my flesh.  

Much to my dismay
I remained intact
But paralyzed by the pain
Unable to run away,
To escape it.

I was unaware of the storm of tears
Falling from my cheeks.  
Oblivious that he continued to circle closer,
Waiting for his moment to strike.  

The pain began to worsen,
Shifting from fire to lava,
Lava to lightning.  
It was unimaginable, indescribable.

Then I lost control.
This body– it was no longer mine.
It began to betray me.  
It shuddered, then shook spasmodically.  

Its back arched knowing what was to come next,
Preparing as the bubble of air was pushed slowly
Up its tongue, against its lips.
Its blood curdling,
Gut wrenching shriek
Lasted mere hundredths of a second.

He comes into view for a brief moment.
My eyes roll back into my head,
And I lose myself in the blackness.  

From Hand to Mouth, A Man Gives Birth


Sometimes the pen, unnecessary.
The poem, fully formed, in his mouth, born.

Silent back labor, unbeknownst the existence
Of such a thing, yet knowing now
His contractions, coming fast and furious,
Eyes many centimeters dilated,
The sac's fluid breaks upon the poet's tongue,
He pronounces in a single breath his
Immaculate Completion

When his hand to mouth, goes,
Like Moses, when he touched the burning coals,
The words are signaled, freedom!
The words announce:
We are now created, conceived and
This new oxgenated atmosphere is now our
final resting place.

This child, the poem, this exhalation,
Once freed, is lost to him,
It's been renamed, retitled,
by hundreds of newly adopted parents as
Ours.

So
When you hear the poet-man exclaim,
I live hand to mouth!

Weep joy by, for and with him,
For his true meaning now clarified,
An ode to joy has
Been birthed this day,
A child for the people.

Look to the past to find your demons
Ghosts appear as memories loom,
Transgressions weave uneasy feelings
The horrors glide across the room.

Tissue scarred for wrongs committed
Hot, wet tears run down your face,
Embarrassed feelings bleed discomfort
Bad reflections have no grace.

A writhing in your nether regions
Bleak remorsefulness inside,
Feelings based on actions rendered
Face your demons, run and hide.

Overwhelming sinful actions
Drive you to a freezing place,
Confess your crimes to Catholic faction
Bare your shredded soul’s disgrace.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
9 May 2009

- From "Watching the Ripples Radiate"

Look to the past to find your demons
Ghosts appear as memories loom,
Transgressions weave uneasy feelings
The horrors glide across the room.

Tissue scarred for wrongs committed
Hot, wet tears run down your face,
Embarrassed feelings bleed discomfort
Bad reflections have no grace.

A writhing in your nether regions
Bleak remorsefulness inside,
Feelings based on actions rendered
Face your demons, run and hide.

Overwhelming sinful actions
Drive you to a freezing place,
Confess your crimes to Catholic faction
Bare your shredded soul’s disgrace.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
9 May 2009

Clumsy as words, I dared approach,
And over the edge I bent.
A sight unexpected appeared to me
And reeling back with a gasp I was sent.

I gathered my senses, gazed brave as I might,
And the water within shone a shimmering light,
And reflected the white of a man's final night,
Penetrating the darkness of his final fight.

Weary from a sorrowful walk in the woods on a whim,
And the madness and heartbreaking sadness within,
I had long kept a silence, and my heart was burdened,
And so I greeted thought foe as a friend:

Exclaiming, I realized that no hunt, but a chase had taken place,
That instead I had followed dear death, and I wept.
'Twas then that I opened my mouth in prayer
And then I closed my eyes and I leapt.

We sell two albums on itunes if you search loud with love   thank you!



I think this life isnt always what you make of it
seems like other people always got something to say
truth is, the people of this world are hella bored so they do what their told, then get lost inside the globe

i see clear as can be, dont let no thing bother me,
got a backpack, guitar, and harmony
speak spit heard only phonically
got words in my head that should keep me a trophy
number one spot i've had it
since the 4th grade
key is never let um know you have it

to some degree, you paint your own reality
i keep my eyes and mouth shut it's a good habit
i speak softly only when spoken to
try and stack cash like the government says im supposed to

i'm fed up with the push of others
those who make make me wake up early yet pretend to be my brothers
i want a house, i deserve it all
painted my own reality to get me far

another dimension is where I'm headed
tv cameras, coo cook clocks, and stanzas
running around like a chicken with my head cut off
they'll call me a celebrity, but never will my label of fell off
got a world of people yet to know me
imma come out to the town and say hello
see i place commas and my dots are honors
every t i cross is worth infinity
my words bring definity
painted my own reality
worked ten thousand times too hard and made a dynasty
its about time to look me up, my musics so good it's impossible to refuse it
i write fine, pen straight to ink what i think while i drink til its complete
i paint my own reality

In the dark labyrinth penetrates no light
Sight like all else is out of sight
There’s no virtue no wrong or right
Nothing but evil and evil shines bright!
It’s the breeding ground for the darkest of thoughts
Putrefied stinking around it darkness clots
Where is such place where can we find?
It’s lying within us, it’s our mind!

I cannot remember, only I can feel the empty chill of steel
sometimes, colored ghosts of autumn whisper in the shadows
that I follow, taking me far from home

Today with sun or clouds and all the bluest skies
a truth revealed, and I awakened to a madness of rivers, lakes
spilling over - to flood, a place
within

So swift the night will come, soon to leave this home
darkness winds a long road on
and still the sun will come

(- This is originally a spoken word poem. Read aloud for maximum exposure.
-Asterisks indicate the necessity to pop your cheek with your thumb.
-Answer the two questions correctly and I will give you a hug.)

He fell asleep while traveling time
where a true name
becomes everything else.
So please give me a minute to explain myself
through the doorways
that I see champagne on a windowsill
walking across the room with blue
and fine china feet
saying again and again
drink me.
Until somehow
the words become a song
singing and swinging the bottle like a dinner bell for thirst.
A kind that we've settled to quench
with television
and somebody else's dream.
So don't pour my drink.
I'm trying to uncork it with my thumbs.

POP

It's flat
and I still have a tongue
so I will use it and I
I will use my thumbs to push back time
until hitler
becomes a baby.
Dr. King becomes a baby.
Until the left and the right and every dead genius in between
becomes
a baby.

Tiny feet trying not to crush the wet salad of the lawn
because it is green,
like my heart
that has learned
how to break fine china.
From experience,
let me tell you
it's a lot more tiresome than a blue dream
but he fell asleep on a boxcar crossing Germany
where mustard gas
drowns you in your own lungs
and he tries to breath between the joints in the track

the

click
...                             clack
click

as years
hurtle by.

Asking again and again,

"Who killed me?"
           &
"Who am I?",

until dinner was served without grace.
Until my head becomes stiff and bubble shaped
having been conditioned by
their
piles
&
piles
&      mounds

of
ob        cation.
fus

So we should tell all the baby hitlers,
that become children
that become us,
that a lie
is what you become
when abusing language to distort a reality.

And when you make a fist
you are handing lies out at random on a silver tongue.
But I still have one
and I still have thumbs
so sorry to burst your bubble but,

POP.

Child,
I don't mean to put

barbed wire

between us.  
I know it hurts
to have something so precious as the world
taken away.
But walls hurt worse
and through them only muffled sounds are ever heard
until your world is made of mute prisoners
that have forgotten what silver
really sounds like.

Blessed be
for I also have ears
so give me second place
and I will throw the medal against your walls.
Ringing out,
the universe doesn't look like an ebony tub,
with knobs we can't ever see,
full of infinite shining marbles to everybody.
Your mind
is a library of language,
so free will isn't a book written in english.
And tourists,
those know nothing infants trying to travel,
belong
where
           ever they
are
                             going.

Belonging like this medal bouncing trying to sing
off your wall
and
falls

into


your world.

Where again it will ring,

we've all been runner up

and somehow
we still get annoyed when another doesn't enter our library
instead of trying harder
next time.

So,
let me say grace.
Let me set l o n g tables
with the gruel that's been given
served on b  r                     n.
                         o
                           k  
                                        e          
china,
spooned
with sterling silver.