In Hell I'll Be in good Company

****** love couldn't go no further.  Proud of and disgusted by her.  Push on a little bruise and battered. Ohh Lord baby, I ain't coming home with you.

My life's a bit more colder,  ****** wife is what I told her. Brass knife sinks into my shoulder....ahhh no baby don't know what I'm gonna do

I see my red head, messed bed, tear shed, queen bee, my squeeze. The stage it smells, tells, hell bells, miss spells, knocks me on my knees.

It didn't hurt flirt blood squirt stuffed shirt hang me on a tree.  After I count down three rounds in hell I'll be in good company.

©The Dead South

Oh puppy you smell so good...that long ol scrubbing made ya soft and cuddly.  Just quit farting Bubba...you keep waking me up!

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

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

They all just joined me for crop-dust sesh....huuuuweeee

My heart jumped off the couch like a flea off a dog's head that spotted a fine flea....and as it descended the fine flea noticed and caught me to save me from jumping too far

When I broke up with my eighth grade girlfriend I was kinda mean....I told her I'd found my one true love....to this day she remains the love of my life...one that never causes strife....I love her so much I've cloned her a million times.  Rooted her in several states even foreign soil.  Every flavor, every size, she gets me Everytime; ever funs my spoils.   To my faithful lover I pledge my love til the end of ryhme.  Never smoke in mirrors....with her I'll be just fine.

¡Mejor solo que mal acompañado!

Otherwise known as Rosie Palm and her 5 sisters.  Girl you too much... your sweet love gives me blisters.

Two friends of mine....with whom I'll always share my ****!

Ah, se ela soubesse
Que quando ela passa
O mundo inteirinho se enche de graça
E fica mais lindo
Por causa do amor

©Stan Getz

I've been kidnapped, stabbed 10 times with an icepick, Glocks to head, outrun guerillas in Tolima Colombia, left for dead in the Desert of the Lions outside of Mexico City.  I have flown in a chopper over Bogota with the antinarcóticos police.....hanging outside from one hand while shooting video of my dad.  I've seen life and death ...I choose life but never let em see you sweat...you can cry, scream kick fight or die...just don't let em see you sweat.

Went to the corner store....man ..I was hecka Changged

Alright Mr. Quickie...I give up

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

Bring all your worldly words and your pretty plumes, let's have a duel. My lonely, lowly pencil will knock you to your knees if you care to look the futile fool.

Ya knew me when ya blew me!!!;

Hahaha... Vato humor!

Cómo poco como como moco pero poco porque tampoco soy tan loco pa comer tanto moco solo porque como poco

Maybe its me but Edmund Black and Ilion Grey sure look like twins....and those names...hmmm a Grey lion and a black world....sure y'all aint related....Brooklyn and Jersey?

I feel better already!

It's definitely not my first
and I doubt it's my last
but I think it's brighter
than my lives in the past.

At least I'm aware
that I have issues to work out.  Next time I'll accelerate the process no doubt.

I'm here for a moment,
a stitch in time
to nourish my soul;
enough to last the ride.  

And when I've reached
the other side
I won't look back...
Just wave goodbye.

My numerical value:

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

Hey liquid metal man,

...oops I forgot the message and who this one was intended for....so tired and sleepy I'm throwing myself on the floor.

ANu

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

Dont look so blue my big Bubbalou...you know it's not forever that I'm leaving you.  Gotta make the cake so we can both eat....the paintings aren't quite cutting it yet and i won't sell the ****.  So Bubbalou...I know it's genetically engrained to be black and blue.... your Papa an  American, your mama a different hue....but remember my puppy to you I'll always be true...you love me
no matter and that's how I love too.

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.

Sabiki rig catch bait
Bubbles in pail keep
chove from fate.

Bust the rod
take the jetty.
Nose hook toss
Release the bail.

Sink then taut
Touch and go
Feel, hook, bought.

Halibut for Almondine
is what I caught

How does it feel when someone calls you a liar when you yourself knows it's untrue?..makes you sad, sometimes mad, but mostly really blue.

I'm getting the feeling that the formula for burning hot is actually very simple....pose a question!

More words of wisdom from my boy Eli.....I got guns i got cuetes...I ain't gonna use em....but don't ask me for em to do your work...get your own.... leva..you call yourself a g...hahaha

Deft
Bereft
She left

Not for blue fîn nor big eye but for the tastiest 5'11" ocean eyes I've ever seen.  Hopefully she's still around and nibbles at the bait.

Don't wanna get burrito faced but I do want one of them TJ dogs with bacon and jalapenos.

Invest
Nest
The best
Rest
Detest
Test
Lest
Zest
Blest

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.

It is not the old wolf here that is the predator.  This wolf can eat when he wants...he just chooses to wait for the "last request before the electric chair meal" to enjoy and slowly devour the delicacies blooming on his plate if only for the last  wonderful hours of his life.  It is the young howler who's thirst is unquenchable and hunger insatiable that will spoil the meat of each of his kills as he  devours only hearts.....10-20 a day.  

See thru the youngsters parlor tricks my friends

Ain't he cute!  Looks like a miniature hornless bull.

Up a hollow in the hills of the Angels....into hunter gatherer morphed. 'Neath the caverns of decomposed granite they bathe in the waning glory of Helios' eyes. Under Artemis' watch two reapers sling Kaiser blades in the full moonlight.  The matins harvest...tribute to the God and Goddess of light.  Tomorrow night the rest is ours!

These ******* vatos are a ****** joke living a deathstyle not a lifestyle.

The cups a poet must drink from to have the fuel to write.

Sometimes we gouge our eyes out to see what we can't believe

If I had but one spell left to cast
I couldn't waste it on myself
I wouldn't change the past.
I'd cook such a potent peaceful brew... I'd offer it to you because I know you'd pass up the chance, to have your wildest dreams come true, Instead have your sister by your side, hand in hand with you.

What is it?
Never happens to me!
Quite the opposite,
I can't keep up with
the storm of words in
my head constantly screaming..
"Let me out"

Give me some guidance here!

Woke from a dream in a dream woke again thinking it was a dream but but then it hit me....it's this nightmare, my HP reality

One being...million eyes... someone here as omniscient as omnipotent as God.  Now I'm completely lost...but do I have the years of life left to truly understand this book..it's a billion page novel and I still have to cook.

Yes it is true I am the Reaper...but I don't seek your soul, I harvest your smile. Don't want your spirit but I do love your style.
Won't want your sins, I prefer a win-win.
Don't crave your blood,
Cleaning up's such a dud.
I just need the laughter, the butterflies in your chest, the look in your eyes that's sighs..."you're the best".