The bulk of the word contains reason

Techo......blanco....¡aye que güey!

Ego dormivi et

Enjoy your day peeps...headed down to the beach....catch some tasty waves eat a Georgia peach

Coño...mire mire mire a esa jeba..oye mamita ven a mi bohio esta noche que te voy a sancochear y comermela toda.

Since there's a consensus that "we" writers are a lying bunch, I'ma give y'all another "tall tale".

My brother's motto was ride it til the wheels fall off.  Not the tires mind you but the wheels.

Marco, my nutty lil brother
had his first full cardiac arrest at 29 behind bars.  Left in his cell wailing for three days caused the fatal scars.  

But since he'd only used 5 of his 9 lives, he partied every night ......
til the **** crowed at five.

Wet ones from the Gardens, clavo from up the street, pills of every shape and form...you name it...it was all candy, all sweet.

Suffice to say, he had a second full cardiac arrest, subsequent surgery...the doctors did their best.

And like Humpty he was glued back together to one piece only to head straight to the dealers house then the bar moments after his release.

Two more years running wild, boosting and muling, GTAing and thievin....I found him naked on the floor.... purple not breathing.

Dial 911...there ain't nothing to be done, still the pigs come and isolate me from the scene questioning me further...I'm being investigated for ******.....

Watch out NY.....the prodigal Queen's son is planning his return.  I'ma smash that juried show.

Los blanco de los ojos amarillos cruzados y ya le sacaron la piedra

¡Mirá las gambas de esa mina!  ¡Que boludo que sos!

Corro mucho pero nunca corro como Ud.

No siempre Caza El Tigre y cuando Caza no Siempre es la misma Cosa

Para dónde se va le pregunté al abuelito Pues a ver Galavisión me dijo

El martes voy pa Marte porque ya no puedo amarte. Prefiero desamarrarte y aparte no llamarte también que tengo nueva amante que igual se va para Marte conmigo Este martes.
No quise desampararte Mejor usted con su arte y yo con mi arte pero sin subestimarte y ya no lastimarte

La mentira Lamentablemente metida me tira la mente a mentirle a la gente sometida a mi potente e inteligentemente fuerte Fuente de prepotentes mentiras y puentes inocentes que giran y lentamente aspiran intimidan y te miran detenidamente llena de ira y Sas despedidas

OK....time to queue

Does it know more than me, know more about me than me? Is it this thing we call our shadow? Is it the same one that's followed our soul as it goes through the process? Perhaps it's not our shadow but our souls shadow. That might explain why it can anticipate my motions. Any Which Way, I know I've seen mine shine brighter than day.

In some Waters that I don't know how to swim chance of survival minimal, less than Slim

Same Strokes that put me ahead of the race, now ineffective I'm flailing in place.

The undertow grabs my soul and Yanks me down, yearning to swallow me One gulp whole. It tightens its grip; Do or Die balance tipped

My body this cage the lust this rage this life... This race what fuss, Turn the Page.
Release your spirit let the soul roll organic submission spun out of control.
Soul over mind like Mind Over Matter Collective memories scattered and splattered
slave to Five Senses, that's all we know in this realm, granted another we'd be overwhelmed.
Pull from your third eye, the medulla as well and realize your body is not stuck in hell.

Epiphany at Starlight right? In and out of Dreams Twilight. Caged inside a cell my mind, I pause reset unwind. Reality reflects the mood so much the heart the soul and mind are touched. Begrudged for non-complacent views, firm I stand when Spirits sense the silent truth. Vindicated by my own God's eye, light and love engulf  me now, the hate I've dealt the world resigns.

Hopping on board to flee from the Sun. Another week's work, all slave... No fun. Back to LA to get s* done. The galleries waiting to hang my fire. A flick of the torch Sparks of burning desire, incessant need that never expires.
Stuck in Fort Worth an extra 5 days, burnt by our star, 110 in the shade. Dollars earned for hanging I'll trade, the museums are eager and Destiny Whispers.. "you'll soon make the grade.,"
Spine is kicking but I still crack a smile... Sitting next to a goddess for a thousand miles. Though just a small chat the Soul flies in style... Exit the craft the stiff scent of home. Batteries dead can't use the phone. Spark up a smoke and Glimpse Domino's head... My smile grows wider as he sniffs at the air, catches a whiff and fixes his stare. "Daddy's home!" There's no love that compares

You glanced at me I stole some too yet we both knew what not to do.

It was my mind that put you there that night, my eyes that saw a star so bright....I knew they'd burn if I kept you in my sights.

I'm the stalking cougar watching you watching me.  No need to hide cuz big cats can see.
But the game is too small so I'll sneak off, I'll leave....a cat needs to eat not play hide and seek

My peeps unwittingly leave loaves of bread for me to follow.  My clues are free.....I am me... don't hide in the darkness....come out...let me see

Se me hace raro que mi dentista se parezca a una amiga de Córdoba....y que también tengan el mismo gusto en forma de vestir, en collar, hasta en su corte de pelo.  Aún más raro es que veo a esta cara en el rostro de todas mis nuevos amigos.  Pero imposible....o será?  Hmmmm....que jueguitos que juega su personalidad.... colombianas, argentinas, españolas, inglesa, estudiantes, poetas, músicos y hasta indios y árabes, de CA, OR, NY, WY y quién sabe donde más.

Yo les dije...Dios lo ve todo....hasta los lunares de tu pecho, tu nuca y quijada.

Some like Colombian
  Sleeping powder ....
  ounces up the nose.
  I prefer the effects
  of snorting hymns
  psalms and prose.

Others sniff crystal,
   ice, **** or glass
   I say poems are
   a narcotic of
   a much higher class.

Still others ride the
    horse talk smack or
   Stick tar. The dens
    that I frequent
    offer verses
    in their bar.

Thank you God for my little dog
Thank Lord for not being bored
Thank you Mary for fighting off the wicked fairies.
Thank you Jesus....save me from the sneezes
Thank you me for peeing on a tree.

Not often do the angels tuck me in.  But tonight .....a light came into my room to touch my soul free me from my sins.  Singing like a siren that doesn't bare her teeth.  Thank you sweet angel....read on and absorb all their emotion ...poetry is sublimation a very vaporous potent potion.

Que ya no aguanto el deseo.

"Pendleton, Lighting Bolt board shorts, Hawaiian Print Vans and a handle-bar moustache".  Wow....and listening to the Dead South.  "Get a load of gramps!" shouts some 20 something punk as the tanned "mom didn't dress me" hipster orders an Arrogant ******* Ale.  
"I'll still kick your *** ya ****** snotty *** kid" he mutters.

My words cut deep

They make you bleed
....they make you weep
Keep you up at night....
No rest no sleep

I fence with syllables
Simili's my sword
Languages' my Lance
Metaphor my mace

I bludgeon with truth
I'll never lie to your face.

Sometimes is a curse

Cuando el culo quiere juete, él mismo lo solicita

Ebb & flow, high and low
Tug and tug the moon above
Reaching for its own reflection
Narcissistic incantation
in my sky of love

Depths unfathomable of darkened light, the salt emaciates me when she is bright with crown hung low.

Pools of poems shimmer as she retreats, allowing me to ****** words, caress them before I nudge them from their nest, my chest and release the Word back to the sky.

Waves that slap, wake me from a slumber.  My turn to be the eyes and ears as the moon my love retreats petrifying souls to guard her celestial number.

No sé que pasó me bloqueaste y me borraste como si fuera tu ex-esposo.

Perdón si dije algo que no te gustó, la poesía no siempre es lo acontecido sino una exageración.  Es lo que usa el escritor pa encantar...que sus lectores lo lean y que lo vuelvan a alabar.

Sé que andas en un lugar muy obscuro pero quizás sería mejor ni juzgar te lo aseguro.  Imposible borrar lo que ya habías dicho tratarme así como si fuera un bicho.

Pero bien, tendrás tus razones pero pa curar aquel corazón y el alma, mejor tomes la poesía como algo que calma, y no te enfurezcas y obscurezca a tú alma.

My boy Eli, poet extrordinaire, punked the jura today.  He made a lot of sense so the pigs had a fit and squeeled off....rolled his windows up like a "punk *** ***** cop".  Dumb ****** rookie looking for sapos and a snitch...STOP!

Eli was just looking out for his fellow man....also his cousin, blood in part of the Garcia Cervantes, clan...he needs the help. He needs his family with millions of dollars to take the initiative and help their own people.

But since they've ignored their responsibilities, Eli was hoping the police, would step up...."protect and serve" the public's interest but **** those putos who only protect and serve their own...... ***** *** *****. **** THE COPS! **** THE PIGS! WHATCHOO GOT?

With this poem you should see another secret bout me if you're highly observant and a vigilent sleuth, this poem holds another clue that's the truth.

I risked it all to have you in my sights and me be at your beckoned call.
I rise early every morning to make sure you're still fine.  And later in the evening we chat as I drink wine.
I respect that you live and wish to remain outside but if I see you slouching I'll fix you up inside.
I reside with Iris by my side. We like to watch her neighbors, the poppies on the right .

Here's the follow up poem to the Art Show invite.  ANu Picasso will have 4 full walls in the show...please come see us at the Neutra Gallery and Museum in Silver Lake at 2379 Glendale Blvd. This Saturday, Sept 1st from 6-11pm.  One love my friends.

Que duermas
mi ángel poesía.... que
mañana será otro día.

Introducing Picasso and Nunez aka ANu Picasso a pair of L.A. poets and painters coming to a gallery near you.  

Our first big gig will be at the Nuetra Gallery and Museum on Glendale Blvd. in Silver Lake coming up in September.

Come check out East and West Balanced, it will surely be an art show you'll always remember.  

Curated and coordinated by the one and only, Dulce Stein, Dulcepalloza 2018 guarantees a good time.

Just another ditty on who we are, this is a poem my partner Picasso put out:

BALANCED

He is the torch
I am the white
He is the dark
I am the light
We don't impress
   to be blessed.
We're blessed
   to impress
Hate us or love us
But don't love to hate us
We're the Ying and
the Yang of this Earth
Both with the
same day of birth
He is the east
and I am the west
But together we're
simply the best.

I've already said it but you deserve to hear praise twice
...and if you see in my poetry
I fancy myself God but compared to yours my poetry's just "nice"

Release me from your spell...you've got me drooling all over myself. It's not envy at all cuz you're on a way different level. Gem quality facets and brilliant bevels. To catch up to you I'd sell my soul to the devil.

My numerical value:

The Antoine Equation
P * = eA−B / (T + C)