ZeroNine - Hello Poetry

I feel the strands push through my scalp for blue skies Grow up, grow tall, then steeple palm to palm Praise the sun! but where's the sun? Legend says it's there to reach for men with means If love, if happiness, then just take a grip Praise the sun! but where's the sun? Preach goodliness like you've the throat, the road to heaven Preach to us like you'll sell deviants the verse Raise the men! but what's a man? Praise the sun! that never burned. I'm over. I'm over. Been over all along.

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Feb 2, 2018

Feb 2, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC

The Fire

I feel the strands push through my scalp for blue skies Grow up, grow tall, then steeple palm to palm Praise the sun! but where's the sun? Legend says it's there to reach for men with means If love, if happiness, then just take a grip Praise the sun! but where's the sun? Preach goodliness like you've the throat, the road to heaven Preach to us like you'll sell deviants the verse Raise the men! but what's a man? Praise the sun! that never burned. I'm over. I'm over. Been over all along.

12

Start, like another End, like every other Alone, UtI, spinning web Like I believe I'm the spider The weaver, weaving, tearing down Start today End tonight Under the influence for years I'll never pronounce it wrong I start like another I end like every other While I wasted the time waiting for you to leave I never once thought I would commit arson Burn the memories we made (Though, I did) (I saw the start and new the end)

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Dec 8, 2017

Dec 8, 2017 at 3:27 PM UTC

Forfeit the Kiss and Go

Start, like another End, like every other Alone, UtI, spinning web Like I believe I'm the spider The weaver, weaving, tearing down Start today End tonight Under the influence for years I'll never pronounce it wrong I start like another I end like every other While I wasted the time waiting for you to leave I never once thought I would commit arson Burn the memories we made (Though, I did) (I saw the start and new the end)

16

We dream we want the awards you take We dream we buy the hypocrisy We dream we want the new days you describe in your speeches The soap box betrays you Twitter. Tweeting. Facebook. Facade. Insta. Instant. Dopamine rush. If you could separate your self from the stage, that would be great. -- but if you're going to make a political statement while accepting an award for your humanity, you might want to think about what your individual actions tell the world about you. Who will listen? Who will ask? Looks like money once more takes the last laugh.

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Dec 4, 2017

Dec 4, 2017 at 4:19 PM UTC

Rosado

We dream we want the awards you take We dream we buy the hypocrisy We dream we want the new days you describe in your speeches The soap box betrays you Twitter. Tweeting. Facebook. Facade. Insta. Instant. Dopamine rush. If you could separate your self from the stage, that would be great. -- but if you're going to make a political statement while accepting an award for your humanity, you might want to think about what your individual actions tell the world about you. Who will listen? Who will ask? Looks like money once more takes the last laugh.

23

Broke, sitting with half plate Pasta, butter, spice Shuffle through my old clothes I used to look nice What is nice, but smaller? Smaller, smaller, still String bean and potatoes Go fine together The grocer tries to tell me, "Divide, conquer, divide." "What is nice, but smaller?" I guess the grocer's right

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Nov 29, 2017

Nov 29, 2017 at 4:42 PM UTC

A Microphone

Broke, sitting with half plate Pasta, butter, spice Shuffle through my old clothes I used to look nice What is nice, but smaller? Smaller, smaller, still String bean and potatoes Go fine together The grocer tries to tell me, "Divide, conquer, divide." "What is nice, but smaller?" I guess the grocer's right

12

What if I just sat myself in the chair with open ears to silence? In quiet, would the voices play over and over, even then? What if I unplugged myself for a moment, no longer? Would it be time enough to see the vitriol I become? In quiet, would my love be renewed? In quiet, would I realize the pain created by hating the hater? More than disparate views, I hate anger. I hate violence. The master's walls resist the master's tools, I read it. Even she, she would despise my guise. "Oh, really?" She'd maybe say, "Get lost. Be gone." I feel it. What do I do when I'm part of the crew hated? Do I spend my days hiding or out fighting? What do I do when I'm part of the crew hated? What if I want to change minds and hearts slowly? What if sudden, forceful changes break us? I think you know the answer -- we're primed to explode And I don't Believe a racist, transphobe will ever love me, or learn me. And I don't Believe a word, a turn of phrase, deserves a bullet in the brain. And I don't Believe for a second that I'm anything but truly naive. And I don't Believe that's bad.

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Nov 25, 2017

Nov 25, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC

Disparate Hearts Will Love

What if I just sat myself in the chair with open ears to silence? In quiet, would the voices play over and over, even then? What if I unplugged myself for a moment, no longer? Would it be time enough to see the vitriol I become? In quiet, would my love be renewed? In quiet, would I realize the pain created by hating the hater? More than disparate views, I hate anger. I hate violence. The master's walls resist the master's tools, I read it. Even she, she would despise my guise. "Oh, really?" She'd maybe say, "Get lost. Be gone." I feel it. What do I do when I'm part of the crew hated? Do I spend my days hiding or out fighting? What do I do when I'm part of the crew hated? What if I want to change minds and hearts slowly? What if sudden, forceful changes break us? I think you know the answer -- we're primed to explode And I don't Believe a racist, transphobe will ever love me, or learn me. And I don't Believe a word, a turn of phrase, deserves a bullet in the brain. And I don't Believe for a second that I'm anything but truly naive. And I don't Believe that's bad.

24

Sipping on OJ after *** after ******* on a cigarette Night outside grows frozen as Autumn slips into Winter She the Fire sleeps deeply, deep inside of me She's determined to hang moss bangs over Her face Block Her view from death's stony stare She's determined to sleep forever What if I cut, what if I dig the skin to wake Her? What if I starve the stomach? Heave the breast toward the hand upon the chest with razor? We all need Fire in the coldest days Don't tell me I'm in control As you speak them, I speak too We all say We all say Don't tell me I'm in control We all break We all break We've all broken ourselves She's determined to sleep forever I'll wake Her

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Nov 22, 2017

Nov 22, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC

Eight-oh-Eight

Sipping on OJ after *** after ******* on a cigarette Night outside grows frozen as Autumn slips into Winter She the Fire sleeps deeply, deep inside of me She's determined to hang moss bangs over Her face Block Her view from death's stony stare She's determined to sleep forever What if I cut, what if I dig the skin to wake Her? What if I starve the stomach? Heave the breast toward the hand upon the chest with razor? We all need Fire in the coldest days Don't tell me I'm in control As you speak them, I speak too We all say We all say Don't tell me I'm in control We all break We all break We've all broken ourselves She's determined to sleep forever I'll wake Her

22

Not thoughtless enough to **** all day long Not thoughtful enough to escape the hood Not petty enough to market my ancient little lies Not honest enough with my self to out grow these twisted vines All along, I've been friends, only with the pen The pen is kind to me when I've blown my chances, myself Slice a Y you'll find The heart is pa - per The blood has taken ink All along, I've been friends, only with the pen All along, I've not been my own by extension, not myself No way I ever was If you could only see me now my friends

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Nov 21, 2017

Nov 21, 2017 at 4:14 PM UTC

Crib Scribbler

Not thoughtless enough to **** all day long Not thoughtful enough to escape the hood Not petty enough to market my ancient little lies Not honest enough with my self to out grow these twisted vines All along, I've been friends, only with the pen The pen is kind to me when I've blown my chances, myself Slice a Y you'll find The heart is pa - per The blood has taken ink All along, I've been friends, only with the pen All along, I've not been my own by extension, not myself No way I ever was If you could only see me now my friends

24

5 0 0 pieces or more spill over six accounts 5 0 0 holes for fingers opened over my skin so when will i learn to use my feet to seek? so when will i learn the blood i squeeze will in time run dry? the gills that i cut will swallow the knife? no time better than now no time like the present to remember to breathe remember to walk toward not away a comet on legs leaving trails of meteorites no time better than now the ropes of the past lace through the toes to the wrists how long has it taken? how lucky am i that i filled the flesh canvas with angry scars and still have the knife? 5 0 0 pieces or more spill over six accounts 5 0 0 holes for fingers opened over my skin the detective is done with the cold case blues the detective is done penning I 2 U s there are enough mountains today tomorrow and on for the detective to be insane as long as they want the detective is done with the cold case blues so case closed

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Nov 15, 2017

Nov 15, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC

Nothing Left to Say| 9. Case Closed for the Dead Detective

5 0 0 pieces or more spill over six accounts 5 0 0 holes for fingers opened over my skin so when will i learn to use my feet to seek? so when will i learn the blood i squeeze will in time run dry? the gills that i cut will swallow the knife? no time better than now no time like the present to remember to breathe remember to walk toward not away a comet on legs leaving trails of meteorites no time better than now the ropes of the past lace through the toes to the wrists how long has it taken? how lucky am i that i filled the flesh canvas with angry scars and still have the knife? 5 0 0 pieces or more spill over six accounts 5 0 0 holes for fingers opened over my skin the detective is done with the cold case blues the detective is done penning I 2 U s there are enough mountains today tomorrow and on for the detective to be insane as long as they want the detective is done with the cold case blues so case closed

40

Set the mood Redline Build the hill Fill that stem Inhale. Hold it in. Take that breath Relax. Just relax. I'm waving the smoke away Both hands extensions of the atrium that primes the pump I'm beating as bleating Green veil is parted re - vealed Reveals the one I'm afraid of - the old me I'm counting days defeated Dead days used my blood took the look that I sculpted and weaponized - it as something other Set the mood Lazerhawk Build the hill Fill that stem Inhale. Hold it in. Take that breath Relax. Relax. Relax. How am I a slave to myself I wonder I wonder How am I a slave? How am I a slave to myself I wonder I wonder I ride the ghost train I deify the old ghosts - I I never meant to board forever - I Am shadow. Am product. The Ubik. I deify the past as answer - nothing left to say nothing left to say (01101100 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101 00100000 00100001 01101100 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101 00100000 00100001 01101100 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101 00100000 00100001 01101100 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100101 00100000 00100001)

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Nov 14, 2017

Nov 14, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC

Nothing Left to Say| 8. Nothing Left to Say

38

Thought I was high Then, I felt a memory Thought I was high Thought I was safe Then, I felt some emotion What if I sold my soul for the green of grass? What if I smoke my ambition in a bowl? What if I bake the little dough I make? What if I'm red-eye all day? Then, I'm a peasant. What if I send my nightmares away, ablaze? What if I exchange the pain in my body for body rolls? What if I buy a ticket to ride, unafraid of eyes? What if I'm dead all day already? Then, I'm lifted.

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Nov 13, 2017

Nov 13, 2017 at 2:40 AM UTC

Nothing Left to Say| 7. Corkscrew

Thought I was high Then, I felt a memory Thought I was high Thought I was safe Then, I felt some emotion What if I sold my soul for the green of grass? What if I smoke my ambition in a bowl? What if I bake the little dough I make? What if I'm red-eye all day? Then, I'm a peasant. What if I send my nightmares away, ablaze? What if I exchange the pain in my body for body rolls? What if I buy a ticket to ride, unafraid of eyes? What if I'm dead all day already? Then, I'm lifted.

15