What is a king without his kingdom?
The peasant says he's nothing
The king says he's free

I smell the past tonight
It hangs low in the air, a brisk chill of what was
The scent the woods while it's too dark to see
Of new intense love and tattered affections
Of liquor and burnt tires
Of ospreys looking down at us from the pine trees
Silent sages
I smell violence and uncertainty, but that's here and that's now
It's mixed in with the past like gin with whiskey
Either one could light the soul afire
But together they're unnatural and bite like a vice grip
Slow and unrelenting
Ashes fall from my cigarette onto my lap
They smolder and blow away
As I would if presented the option
But I'm still here
My only stress is I'm void of stress
Defeated and quietly resigned
Mourning the lonely nights I never loved
Accepting the bleak days to come

I hate love lives
But I don't hate life
I just don't think I could get it right in 8 lives
Each one with 8 wives
That's 64 beautiful women
Thoroughly explored I couldn't find love in em

I relish in hate right...
But I don't hate life
I just can't help but see the stigma that you're stained by
Slithering worthless serpents working circles and sinning
I heard their hymns and verse but couldn't find love in em

I play to their hate right..
But they don't hate life
They're just vulnerable to the flames Nihilists lay by
Sleeping soundly certain that there was no divine venom
Pious verses were immersive yet rehearsed I couldn't find love in em.

It's subjective what's right
But I don't hate life
I just can't shape my morals and at the same time,
Sit in oblong boxes and keep my thoughts within em
I read your laws, codes, and odes but couldn't find love in em

You cannot oppose decadency then tell me nothing is sacred
You cannot tell me I'm too sensitive then barrage me with hatred
You cannot preach guidance if your moral compass is latent
And act so cavalier while advocating patience

You cannot tell me you love Jesus and throw his teachings in a forge
Recast them in the flames to a weapon for your scourge
You cannot read me scripture and cast the exile aside
For the blessed are the weak but not the weak of mind

Get your poetry in line
Is it a sonnet? Does it rhyme?
Can you keep the proper time?
Does it bounce in your head off the walls of your mind?

Is it deeper than I'm seeing?
Tell me, what's its obscure meaning?
Is it simply whimsical?
Use your words like a maple tap, plunge the sharp end into you

...Well let me tell you silly idiot, silly critic, you're insidious!
You're not fit to critique what is pure and true and intimate
So tell me my dear patron, what do you construe?
When you dig for deeper truths, topical ones elude

Spewing seed and venom, life and death, lust and loathing, we were Marc Antony and Cleopatra
A serpent suicide and ***, poisoned ******* and choking, then we patiently awaited our rapture

When I died I watched you follow, you said "my love I will join you soon."
From your effigy, a malignant magnetic energy floated above the room
We were toxic and intoxicated, dead but full of life
Darkness ensued all but a narrow slit, brimming with shimmering light

I grew to a boy then a man scolded by harsher truths
And then I met you, my Egyptian Queen, so beauteous and full of youth
You asked me for a cigarette, I only had a joint
We smoked and spoke like Nihilists and debated "What's the point?"

For years our love grew again, one day you said to me:
"The vanguard is at the gate and the walls are under siege"
But your battles were waged with ****** not Egypt's enemies
My response rang through history with war-torn lover's pleas

Maybe these lives were insufferable, maybe I hide from the truth
That my only respite was that every night I was coming home to you
Our apartment was just too quiet, soundless and without sentiment
Nothing remained of our candle but spilt wax and the scent of it
The bathroom door was locked, "Open the door, Let me in!"
Under the bathroom's flourescent lights that serpent bit again

My dear friend,

There's no answer in those bottles
Or those false bravados
There's truth in cliche mottos
But those answers are hollow
Unlike those pills you swallow
Because you're chronically suicidal
With no contrary to guide you
And no lover to confide to
So you'll just cram it all in a note in the hotel room they find you
Now you're only living through all the strangers you were kind to
The family that stood beside you
The hell you dragged their mind through
The lovers you had lied to
The crafts that you had fine tuned
The dark past behind you
And whatever state your mind looms now

I have the honor to be your obedient servant,
M. Whit

Some call it bi-polar
I prefer manic-depression
It fits us better with adequate expression
We live our life in swooping loops
We strive at our peak then it droops
And the doleful drudge is destitute
Until all progress stops and stoops
To a halt, face down in mud and roots

And then we rise
Called back to life by a guiding light held deep inside
Sorely self-aware, we work until we burst
Droll desperation, at our best when at our worst
"Wow you got your **** together you lost and soulless ruffian."
Then we hit our peak and it all starts back up again

He loved her, but his love was forced to buzz beneath the surface, like a deep pain under an ******
The day it would be relevant seemed to drift beyond possibility, but he hoped for it
And some days he awoke to it,
bleeding
A ghastly wound, once healed then torn open,
dreaming

Feminism is lying
It is not driven by equality
It is driven by dominance
And I, a humble observer of what is both beautiful and empirical
Have no argument for the contrary
Their fertile nature and ensorcelling majesty, I am but a myrmidon
To what is the zenith of divinity
that this circumscribed world permits

Dear Father,

It is with an intoxicated, profound, and perhaps misled familial respect and gratitude
That I write you and I ask of you
That you assess your cavalier attitude
On your own life and widespread dissidence you feel
For when your recklessness kills you and I am to serve you leal
I would be disingenuous to gaze upon the eyes of all your peers
And not deliver an encomium weighted by your grievances and jeers
So if you must die, please give me explicit instruction that you have cured your lover's quarrel with life and it's inhabitants
If you cannot I will stress the points of your plight with an unrelenting adamance

I have the honor to be your obedient servant,
M. Whit

She holds my muse captive in a cage with bars of bamboo
I fear if I don't retrieve it I'll never be completed
Use a scapel to spill my guts on loose leaf, then I delete it
It's unworthy, it's too wordy
Got too much love for you I'd be broken if you heard it
And these days, I'm not too sure who recites it
And these days' I'm indifferent with who likes it
Somedays I don't even know the man who writes it
Scribble a wordy flurry and not understand what incites it
It all feels insightless
A pretentious attempt to be righteous
And what is righteousness?
Staring bold faced at the heart of the abyss
Saying even though it's looming I can't be defined by this
Or lose my mind to this, thinking ignorance is bliss
Enlightenment ensorcelled with the progress of humanity
Standing hand in hand with a communal prosperity
No severalty severity
Trade your famous 15 seconds for just one moment of clarity

Your beautiful mind is shrouded by our abyssmal surrounding
The jarring ruckus composed of voices with nothing to say, comitting lustful and spiteful acts just as confounding
You buzz around the gun shots in the night from the heated exchanges of the afternoon, and relish spreading the news in the morning
Yet we all hate the mourning

Your thoughts float along a tributary of violence, carrying too much weight not to be dragged under by the venomous current
And you love it

If only one ambition I could bring to fruition, if only one purpose I would be a leal servant
It would be to abruptly uproot you from this concrete savannah,
this rolling plain of debauchery,
this collaboration of skullduggery,
this tundra of treacherous trollops

And replant you firmly in view of the sun,

All I had ever wanted was an enthusiastic and malevolent nemesis
And when it finally happened, at first I didn't fully realize its genesis
It was about her, of course
And this man believed himself a force
To be reckoned; To the contrary I felt the need to coerce
When I beckoned, my plight, wrath, my antipathic angst, and a vehement venomous vengence,
I recognized my descent, and uttered a simple succinct sentence

"Those you **** and those you fight are those you proclaim your equal, but the acts I dream take, an exception I'll make, on your benign and neutral evil."

A petty foolish man holds the diamond in his hand,
At less allure and worth than the opal in the sand

Now that we've exposed the existential farce of Satan,
It can be said Man created the devil,
Not as a god but in our own wretched likeness,
With no scapegoat for our innate commitment to evil

Inherently malicious with Benevolent aims,
As we wonder, we wander, and unwillfully wane

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder I told her
As her knees trembled from the weight of the compliment I bestowed her
Often benevolent
Clearly Heavensent
If God truly has say in the matter
Awkwardly eloquent
She reflected pretentiousness
Yet never projected the latter
Her eyes luminescent
Her body quintessence
To a hedonist, a lover, or sculptor
She beared the essence of loathsome life lessons
So there lay apprehension
When I vowed to properly love her

Is your soul fabricated of The ***** Gore Vidal depicted? Is morality subjective?
Or do you find your truth in Atlas' Shrug? William Buckley's perspective
Marie Antoinette, she said without fret, there's no plight just let them eat cake
Then she ate all of it, and with her soiled wit, her head was the people's to take
James Madison's stake, was to assure we make, the rich to be the priority,
He said without them, the poor are condemned, so there's no room for quarrels morally

Yet I ask you to ask, I beg that you mind
The Guillotine falls, and that's by design
From the top it tumbles, cleaving the wicked
The evil, the malicious, and I pray the indifferent

It was almost 10 oclock, their eyes heavy as rocks, Erik and Jamal headed home
The fork in the road that they've always known to mean they tread on all alone
They made their embrace and started their pace and Erik did not hasten much
Jamal however was quick to endeavor, because mama had told him to rush
They walked their separate ways, reflected on their days, and coveted what tomorrow would bring
At that very moment, their train of thought stolen, by the bellow of sirens they sing
A large police van rolled upon each young man, and flashed a light on each of their face
They told Erik hurry, his mom needn't worry, yet they questioned young Jamal's pace
They told him get down, he got on the ground and struggled in his discomfort
Erik heard a bang in the night, that had gave him a fright, and thought to himself where'd it come from?

He hated his life incredibly deeply
So he resigned from it incredibly meekly
He wrote poetry with passion so seething
That late evening paramours would recite it so deeply
Suicidal sons would read on and keep breathing
Loathsome lovers would repent for their cheating
His words float without effort, masterfully  perceiving
Of the harsh and real yet ensorcelled and believing
The lost and the ****** with one glance would find meaning
In a world so berift of love
Who knew when his bullet, right temple and pulled it, from the left side would fly a dove

Swam towards resolve, but couldn't find it in the bottle
Who could give me answers? All my questions rang hollow
I knew to call her phone; half expecting her to answer
The ring rang so jovial I waited at a standstill
Longing for a greeting; the warm embrace that I had known
Her loving arms around my shoulders, where she was I called it home
The ringing became less jovial, but harsh and manic and blurred
Until the high pitched screaming and white noise is all I heard
The final ring had sounded; embattled and full of strife
And then a deafening silence, so lost and void of life
Yet then I heard her voice, an apathetic beep laid it to rest
She spoke eloquently in life; just as my love had done in death.

I want to kiss her
But I want it too much
More than she does
but she wants it enough
So I'm able to make that first fatal mistake
Leaning in doesn't last long enough to hesitate
When our lips meet, it causes a chasm between time and space
I gaze into her eyes, ran my fingers on her face
It all felt too vivid; my heart began to race
Pulled up my belt, and sprinted from that place
I dashed into the woods, ascended the hills above
In the world of spite and lust, you better not fall in love

I am everywhere and nowhere simultaneously
Casting darkness on the light instantaneously
When you dream a dream of malice from the bleakness of your soul
I'll be there to guide you to the path most filled with woe
When you wake to your hazy reality, warm blood gleaming on your hands
Remember it's all a reflection of how the boy had to grow to a man

He's a  man with a 150IQ and is dissatisfied with all his life choices.

A six pack of Guinness to help me be whole again,
But once I sober up, I'll just be a lost soul again,
Few women in my heart, and none within my sight
And they'll be going out so we'll all get ****** tonight
As for me ya see, I'll just drink myself silly
For I must **** these brain cells, before they **** me

Jfksoznaba;;1-66

I've  just smashed my keyboard to smithereens to depict anger, I've plugged in my old one now. I thought the other would survive longer....

A fruitless endeavor.

For an attractive man, he can drowned his sorrows in frivolous interactions and ****** encounters with women of little depth.

For a rich man, he can dispel his vexations with opulence and the ego fiscal stability brings

For the genius? Without either of the other two gifts, he is left to eek out his days in abhorrence. Alone, carrying the excess of his own mind.

If only there was a way to monetize IQ points....

There is, just not literally.

Talking like an optimist...
Act like I don't say this ****
For my own **** benefit
To get me through liiiiiife

I'll change my own mind!
Be my own man!
No other halves I'm a whole
But never the less I would digress for her embrace and her hold
And yes I still do stress finding my place in this world

See somedays
I feel like Sir Edmund Hillary after he scaled the highest peak humanity has ever climbed

Other days I feel like a **** covered newspaper floating down the sewer in the streets of Mumbai is sailing away with my mind

But I like to perpetuate the image that I'm the happiest man alive
Because if you're really that smart, shouldn't it be easier to find???

I took a seat among the crowd, but still I wasn't a part of it
I try my best to blend but still I set myself apart from it
I'm the nail that sticks out, forever hammered down
So I drink the thought away, ****, I'm hammered now..
It wouldn't be that bad, but my love's so unconditional
So I get spurned and kicked around, still my loyalty is exceptional
And I dress real loud, but it's not to be noticed,
It's so when I look into the mirror I can trick myself out of being hopeless
At least for the moment,
At peace for the moment,
Then my brain weight and my brainwaves crack my neck to the left,
My eyes go blind, my ears go deaf,
Darkness ensues and consumes
As it will continue to do,
Until I spray that pink mist all across this very room

I said "You've never done this with someone like me"
She said "How do you know?"
Because there's no one like me
Most who **** me want to fight me
Most who fight me just say **** it
Because I'm so persistent they've just had enough of it
I read text books recreationally because I feel ignorant and unworthy
I go through self defeating tangents where I wake up at 2 pm and still fall asleep early
I've been called the most benevolent happy and loving person people have ever known
To other people I was a soulless destructive retch since I was barely grown
I tend to run into glass houses dual wielding stones
Money founds my philosophies so I spend most of my time alone

She looked disappointed, what was moans turned to groans
Then strapped up her bra and started the long journey home


Just being real lady.....

I told a young girl "write poetry when you're sad, harness it"
She wrote a poetic note and she hanged herself with a leather belt on a closet bar,
Had she been five pounds heavier she'd have fallen

Told a young boy "don't isolate yourself to your computer, get out in the world buddy"
He found his niche on a high traffic corner selling escapism to life's victims and got shot in the cerebellum over a $175 dollar debt

Just mind your business Mychael.

First let it be known I wrote this sitting on the toilet of my favorite local Thai restaurant
With too much Jameson in my system and it has my head spinning
I said to myself, I'm in no condition for poetry so prose is probably the way to go
Tonight I saw children who blossomed from the same tree as I, reared on the same playground, with their neck's scarred from a noose of addiction, track marks in their arms and they're incapable to listen
I saw a woman so beautiful she gave me that crossed brain feeling of frustration and desire,
She had a bruise on her right arm from a man who smashed a bottle forcefully at her feet at the end of the night, I guess he didn't know she was beautiful
She didn't either
I saw an aging man gambling away his life savings, staring intently at a screen with scrolling numbers,
He was conservative in nature, didn't want to pay taxes as it topically came up, it is tax season
I saw a bartender spill two drinks, a bouncer who by no means wanted to fight anyone, a drunk drooling a puddle of discontent with life, a man lose 3thousand dollars playing pool, and a pinball machine that only one bumper worked, there was no out of order sign,
All of this moved in synchrony, but I'm sure that the only people who are happy right now are those in the embrace of another
And me?
Well I'm just ******* red curry and greatness

Another rose in the cracks of the concrete
Stomped out, surrounded by the wrong feet
About six feet north is the heads of men without the proper appreciation,
Of it's beauty, of it's patience, luminescence and essence,

But I appreciate it. I admire it. Hurt that my appreciation isn't appreciated.

Stop your complaining, it's a flower you godforsaken retched **** up.

I love love, I love hate, I love love before it's love, I love love after it dies
I love sunny days, I love rainy days, I love overcast , and I love the snow
I love walking, I love breathing,
I love listening I love speaking
I love interactions with factions upon factions and I truly love being alone
I love the rich, I love the poor, I love Liberals and Conservatives
I love they got meanings of the terms twisted and preach so vehemently about the superiority of their ideology
I love those who speak logically, I love those who listen, I love words that were written to be spoken, and those that were just to be written
I love racists, I love blacks, I love whites, and every ethnicity with any pigmentation that falls between them or against them
I love all cultures equally, And I love cultures that hold themselves to a higher esteem than other cultures
I love Cops and I love Criminals, I love Order and alcoholics and crack addicts who just keep gettin back at it with bare minimals
I love Devote Christians, I love Krampus, I love Christmas,
I love Baphomets, I love Marvin Gaye, I love The Doors Greatest Hit list
I love Batman, I love the Joker,
I love marijuana, and both those who are and are not avid smokers
I love the freedoms I enjoy everyday and I love that men are systematically taught to hate me on a spiritual level with such passion that they would strap a bomb to their chest just to end my existence
I love the Persistence,  Of time, Life, Movement, The Cosmos, and I love that it keeps on existing so fluently that we feel almost lucidly that our existence is significant =)
I love the inquisitive look in the eyes of babies asking questions without the means to ask questions that, in due time, will only be answered by questions and answers that evoke much larger questions. And I love both those questions and the appropriate answers.
I love those with and without an appreciation for the nonsensical
I love you

A self-inflicted bullet to the brain is an artist's validation

The pain was real

The world's greased, watch your step or you might slip and fall off of it,
Serpent in the garden where you're walking, show cautiousness

And nothing really grows there in the shadow of the Pyramid,
Of our plutonomy,
But honestly,
from the top the image probably isn't that vivid

That we're rats in the labyrinth scolded for eating cheese,
That we're lepers on our island rebuked for our disease

Once a pigeon ascends with doves, all in the name of peace,
The thin air is too comfortable, to return him to the streets

Hypnotized by a box framed with Rose-Colored glass
While The Owl burns bright and The Baphomet laughs

Her face was tainted by beauty.
Her body repulsively covered in curves
The way her **** sat in her thong looked completely absurd!
Her ******* were too round and her eyes too seductive
Her bare midriff, so smooth, left me aghast and disgusted
Her smile was too bright, hurt my eyes, left me blinded,
Shut your mouth woman! I had to say but kindly
Her hair was too thick, too shiny as it fell upon her shoulders
She was young and her grace made her look much older....
But thankfully she's gone, no more succubus to fight,
I am thankful! I tell myself, it helps me sleep at night

HelloPoetry
Q: How do I enter death year?

A: Die on your laptop

The cursed Porcupine
The closer he gets to you
The more he will wound

It felt like growth to me at the time,
Like I had taken a step forward to evolve into a better and more sophisticated man
And maybe I had
I had
What I did not know at the time was that sophistication wasn't the goal, only simplicity can carry you through your days with the easy graceful demeanor we all aspire to maintain


I laid in bed, staring at the textured spots on my ceiling wondering if I would ever be the same,
If I could ever carry myself with the dignity I thought I possessed
Colors sang out carrying a tune to the bass line strummed by the darkness
The sound of my distraught shrieks tasted like ash leaving my mouth
The blankets writhed violently around my neck and torso
I heard a booming voice ringing from the Zenith of the universe
He reaffirmed all my self-doubts, all my worries, all my mortal nightmares
He was adamant that my death and all those who surround me was imminent
He spoke to me of things my feeble human mind could not comprehend
Then he left me in a cold sweat to slumber in agony


I woke the next morning with a scar across my chest
Not an open laceration, but a fully healed scar that looked as if it had taken procedures and months to close

The scar remains and all my insignificant and worthless brain could take away from the booming ambiguous voice became simpler and simpler

No moment but now; no day but today

With the Passion of Cassius smashin' the classless and the facist
With the vernacular of Malcolm and paired with such passion the outcome attacks with tact and impact because in it's very nature it is offensive
With the cosmic knowledge of Albert, but we do not speak in relativity,
Only what is exactly no biased or levity
With the strength of a million men, no, a million pens, because I'm told the word is mightier than the sword,
But I've seen a man bring a pen to a fight and swiftly his life was no longer his right but a privilege he had once taken for granted
And the man who brought a sword to fight with honor was honored to die from a distant spiraling bullet because even the art of war has evolved beyond civility
That's why I wear Teflon vests, but never a mask, to make sure they look me in the eyes to get rid of me...