As the flowers give birth
To more flowers

As we and it slowly goes just to I
And it is better that way

As soldiers come back from the greedy ****** war

As the stranger looks at her and there is something strange in his eyes

As the heartburn comes back, I kneel and almost feel like death punched me

As the only books burn to keep you warm in the winter

As it is so cold, the birds didn’t even make it south, they freeze in mid-air

As it soon ends for us

As it comes

As the rich get more money

As you eat because you aren’t hungry

As it ends

As we end

There is no time to relax.
No love around to get me to relax,
No woman dancing on the
moonlight stage,
blowing kisses, slapping her *******.
Good enough for others
It makes my eyes ache,
The words I type everyday,
can’t seem to fix my troubles,
My mind snaps,
Where to find the easy way?
Where to find her eyes again?

It will get boring without these
sounds in the stereo floating
around and to get me going…
Fuel.
Give me words to spread on
the white page.

Don’t relax tonight
It may seem you’re losing it
Writer’s block attack
I’ll write-

To smile with fear
is the greatest accomplishment of all.

She wasn't doing good on my bed, with the

night rolling on and I could see

it all come out of  her.

It looked like a tear, one little

tear, she was going down

but soon we became lions

fighting in fire

we became two lions all

over my bed

the kissing was ferocious.

How do these relationships work?

one hour we are fighting

the next hour we are one again

all the good papers were out at the store

and the fruits were looking to rot,

the plane is still missing,

migraine bells hit my head.

the day was becoming dull,

I saw outside

over hundreds of people.

people in front yards dancing

and the strings of heaven

were playing.

It sounded like Strauss.

Soon it started raining

but the people stayed

in their places and danced

it seemed they didn’t notice the rain

they just stared into each others eyes.

she lights her favorite candle and then pulls her cigarette from her lips and lights it from the candle

she goes to the kitchen and starts cutting the fresh mango and sees some blueberries and grabs a handful throws them in her mouth and chews

she is always talking and sometimes when I talk she talks over me to talk for me

after the fruit and how I wonder what it tasted like mixed with cigarette smoke she kissed her lips to me and says let’s go for a walk

we go out with the growing back trees beside us and no cold wind

she isn’t talking

she is looking                  

she wants to go to the gym and I tell her for the hundredth time I don’t do the gym  

observing the life of nature

there is peace in the wombs of the road

as always she is hungry and we go buy

a chicken shawarma

outside with her smile and we see Bobby the hunk

with his Wanda who looks like a lion


she wants the park and I want a bed

I want her

with awful love blooming

I can’t find her love

Look

look at those children swim in cyanide

look at the men whip their wives with a spine

look at the animals that starve and

they ***** their shadows

look at the clock, how it slows us down

look at those birds, I think they know something

look at those women chewing on their own breast

look at the newspaper and the journalist has something

real to say.

look in my world and your world

how close, how different.

Oh mother
You poor soul
So inclined to waste long ago
By the death of your children.

I watched and I noticed
But i was in my own haze of
A mind to look away and
Be myself while pondering
And seeing images of the baby’s
Grave.

You tried and just like the millions of other babies that tried
But never saw the light and your tears and the silence of the baby coming out of you
doesn’t haunt you anymore.

It’s alright mother
You finally survived.

Words won’t save you
Only you can save you

Words help but fade
Of mud stuck in the shoe
Scraping it off right away.

We all can dip in the sea
Of reality and sink and see
That some are frowning with money
All around them
and others eat bread and water
Without giving up.

Little girls die in woods
and the molester gets hanged

All little things happening
Right now behind you in a
Sphere of water and dirt.

Your green grass shines.
Others grass burns slowly,
Dries and dies slowly.

When will I reach fifty?
This world seems already dead.
What world looks away from help
something is wrong with
Some people.
Something is wrong with me
Some days.

who now sleeps in your tides of a body?
now I give up
The bed,
The food,
The time
Lives.

I don’t think heaven is here
I don’t believe in your god
Take me away to
another soft tide of a body
The milk shades in rooms

naked people on streets
The homeless finally smile.

I don’t know if women ever
imagine a man crying,
in his room while nothing
plays, and the quiet
makes him more sad.

you see a woman break down;
easily and how a man stands there
looking at his father or mother’s
grave, and doesn’t cry ever.

some men think if you
cry,
you are weaker than the dirt that
sinks in your shoes.

Hell I cried one night
after seeing a young
woman
who I thought I loved,
and all I did was
pour that liquor down
to the liver and make
me smile again.
you *******.


I saw my baby sister’s
grave and held on steady,
but we kept on going to
other known graves,
and the steadiness of
tears on me.
flowed on out
like the river rising
and killing us all.

I don’t mess around
and we know
we’ve put a lot of
love and damage
in each other

I play the act of
the unknown
genius
someone who
puts words
into the blender
and makes art

a bed will
carry
*** and death
around
until it breaks

most people are
broken people
watching other people
that can beat it all
and live again
they have the secret
but really there is no secret

winning the slots

but the money never returns

and seeing drunk eyes

look into my eyes

The money never wins

The defeat,

and the social clock destroyed.

where I could be in a factory

helping to build you a new car,

I rather burn and sit,

it fits the situation perfectly.

I feel sad,

but it’s better to live with

that light shining out your eyes.

I write better half drunk

with the moon in a lonesome

room feeling pathetic,

wanting the old you back.

love burns my insides

and my heart races.

I can’t think right now,

tonight you could’ve been

my home.

but other bodies will tumble

on beds with burning love.

we aren’t those things anymore,

my garden dies from the cold,

the factory is calling me back.

the other body

the kid who enters the other body to find a new miracle

will never find his true self.

Taking his virginity of life

will never satisfy the way he sees

the other side.

The way the bird mocks you is

always disturbing, like how watching the

mother die.

How waiting for the clock to turn

even though it is broken,

I’ve seen the soul, how it burns

away in people faster than a freeway

car crash.


It happens while you watch the bird from the tree

outside mock you.

It mocks you as well with silence,

The bird mocks us while struggling to

build our dreams,

losing all the money,

eating for the last time.

The people think “what does it mean?”

it never and will mean anything.

there was a time when the bird mocked you

from high up in the tree,

you tried to fight back,

you fought with your words and your body,

but still were beaten.

The bird that mocks us wins again.

The bird is not a hero,

maybe it tries to be a beaten up crow,

but he’s too strong to live past that.

It won’t age like wine,

and it will always love to

mock the lower dead

birds.

It’s hot and
my forehead is sweating and
my long arms are sweating,
my ***** are hot and wet,
it’s hot in a 400 dollar room tonight.

Coffee drippings on the tongue,
salty bacon takes first place,
orange juice with *****,
flashes and flashes of lines and colour
from the mind spurting out the eyes and mouth.

flesh crayons and acrylic paints

on the white cardboard

I see long leg dogs and paint ***** and

odd shapes in my head


I brush the flesh on the board


hard red colours

blackish brown

orange and mango and sky blue paint

gets on the tides of the carpet

what to paint next

I’m always drawing faces

ugly girls with love eyes

and the mole between the nose and the lip

small *******.


I should call my art UNSOBER Arte, I painted

being on something

the colours move and swish

they dry fast

it’s freak art

bad really bad art

I know you won’t somber to it

that’s fine.

apple cider
burns.
Why haven’t you
eaten your vegetables?
why don’t you ever smile?

I failed myself and took
off and walked in the
oblivion forest.
Came back more scared.
I always think.
I have a pocket knife
but I know that won’t save me.

I’m stuck in this hole mother.
I’ve become an ******* to you,
to others.
While at home-
My home far away
from you and others.
Hide in beds
eating stale bread
with cheese.

Outside has it advantages.
but you know
some people
look at other people

they
smile
or sneer.
they walk to the far side
noticing
a ***** *** needing
fool in his soul.
he mumbles,
what is he saying,
he mumbles,
other people want to be other people,
they are too scared to become themselves.

A knife fight happens downtown
somebody yells *****
and tries to hit the other guy’s woman.
what a fight.
but of course the cops appear
out of nowhere.
the night action is done
for today.

In the headlines it said some guy
hanged himself by tooth floss.
then I decided to go into
the washroom and floss my teeth.
the gums started bleeding,
I could taste it.
I spat warm dark blood in the
sink, letting the tap wash it away,
My gums were more disturbed than
the brutal killing of a pig.
the inside of my nose is also dry.

The free press in this town
is horrible,

what about the crazy old man
that’s always stopping in the
streets picking things off the
road, maybe he knows more than
the mayor.
Well of course there’s always
someone better we’ll never know
or ever find him and make him a winner.
A better love is in Mexico,
but in Canada you will never
see Mexico and you’ll just be in
love with every girl
because you think it’s all unfair.

some kids are already playing the adult.
some adults will forever be kids,
There is nothing we can do,
I’m not going to save them
I’m just going to go to the store
and buy a four dollar scratch
ticket to get something out
of something.

She puts a massacre on her lips with that lipstick,
I dream about you far away
while flowers and dogs and cats
eat themselves up.
You would think I’m a boring man because all I do is sit in the dark and be myself.
I’ll write another doomed poem for safety.
I drank the whole bottle of wine and
woke up with no hangover.
someone yells ****** out my window
and the boys laugh on.
The blacks walk and talk like that
and a white couple see them
and start to
walk the other way.
I feel a bruise on my leg.
Where did that come from?
and why do angels fear you?

the alarm kept ringing
It’s shaking my head
and ruins the morning wood
My brain is stirring


I kept on trying to
get out of bed
But I’d only slept for
Four hours

I find the shower
I have no coffee
The mirror makes my
eyes look dead

the water is white
And in L.A
In some ****** hotel
A dead woman
gives them black
water and
they still drink it up


What was the point of
living last week?
Birds aren’t around anymore
maybe I should go back to bed


I left my little town
to come back to
The city
I don’t have much


Who’s gonna save me?
God died last year.
Who’s gonna save you?

People talking about nothing
In a room of incoherent thinking.
Some money beggars,
Some are poor animals.
They only think about
Want and pleasing.

Nothing will get done.
A man watches the woman
Put some blush on
Another woman is having
Her period.
She thinks of getting pills
To stop her periods
Because the cramps make
Her a suicide case.

You know what the guys are thinking.
Still little gets done
In a room full of these people
Filled with nothing

she thought she knew her ways

and a wild ***** came out of

her mouth and attacked me

and soon good days had flashed in her

and she sat there eating wild strawberries that were bleeding

on her tongue

a red cold sweet tongue touches my tongue

you don’t watch my  eyes wide

my eyes go the way of Sartre

and you tell me I finally

look crazy.

I feel doom

rising

we all go to the circus

to watch the clowns die

to see the elephants stripped

I feel cold

we all die out like the sad clowns we were

A bowl of soup that
never goes old and my feet  
are cold sweating
and stink and eat the dead skin…
I want this and that
it will never come out perfect almost like writing a poem
that fits the  state of perfection and
when it’s done that perfection dies out.
I paint a ugly dog with a smile
when music is too loud
when fingers tremble
you know time is almost done
little  drops of air come out of you
little crystal tears do not come
out of you no more

This little kid mostly grew with his mother, at school he rarely got along with the other kids, fought a black kid on the first day of school… well many of his school days were fights and visits to the principal’s office.

This little kid thought he knew the world already, fighting with teachers because he liked seeing anger and destruction from humans. This  little **** would have to  stand against the wall at recess for all those little troubles he caused, He felt lost most days but was always built with happiness, with some fear hiding inside.

He was a emotional **** that cried always the wrongs hours of day, and when the mother got married to a new daddy, the kid and daddy fought always, the daddy screamed, didn’t know what to do.

The little kid had a fight with a girl, the kid pushed the girl down, the daddy got mad and grabbed him and yelled. “YOU NEVER  HIT A GIRL, YOU UNDERSTAND THAT.” This little kid thought he was tough, jumped off high things and til this day has never broken a bone. Other little kids from school didn’t invite him to play because the parents didn’t like him around their own little *****. Little kid wasn’t lonely and he found another kid from his neighborhood to play with, both mostly filled with the same mindset. They both caused little destruction in their city, caused fights and fought each other. He had asthma but still did things that made him lose air and felt like dying. He wrote little notes in books, wrote a letter to god asking how his dead family members were doing, the only kid in the family.

The kid grew more into something else, he stole little things and  killed little things with his foot. the kids at school grew more into him and started some how accepting him. He still was a little **** but they all laughed and thought he was funny. still beating the teachers up and still visiting the principal’s office accepting his letter for suspension,  He probably had the most suspensions at school.

do you know your weak eyes always look stronger
than the  bones that try to **** you.
the people you think that try to **** you
have nothing to afford,
Your weak eyes binge,
I take a photograph and
your weak bones show.
but I’ll rip it up
because that photograph doesn’t show
your true bones.
I don’t need to use photographs
or words to make you look good.

In a large cafe
the fat lady with greasy hair
eats her Chinese.

and many
around
preach in their little crowd

they think they know
it all
no one knows anything anymore

in this large cafe
people eat
but just stare at nothing

the large window
shows a snow storm
the wind blasts bullets of snow

the trees are dead
some of the people
look dead

they are mostly pale
and silent
and alone

just like the dead
themselves but they
don’t scratch the fat pimples

on their
back
like I do

ladies with flashing eyes
and flashing thighs.
I love it
He loves it
we all love it.

My pets are dead
at least the pork I cooked
is perfection in the mouth.
at least you have money
I like to give it mine away.

to cashiers
to give myself a false
high on life.
drink another drink
smoke another smoke
that’s life for some.
I do hope you still have
some reason left in the head.

my reason is a burning maze
a head light flickering
the good
the bad.
what do I do with it all.
my reason is a little sane
and I feel like eating my
soul to grow another one.


days become lazy and so do you
it’s good, sleep
for long hours
I couldn’t sleep for the past week
two or four hours of sleep
finally I gave up and slept for probably
the whole day missing life outside
people seem happy
and I seem sad
but something still in me
makes it all good again

and the money fades
a girl you like fades
a friend fades
others will fade as well
they will go
and you can still beat it
it smells like onion and
burned beef
old people are crowding
two oldies mucker about
not winning at the slots
and losing one hundred bucks
the oldies can ***** with ease
the talking never seems to stop
from them
they keep going with their tongue
going and going

It was too silent like as if John cage
were playing the piano
and no one felt safe


someone threw up in the dark

the alcohol in me came to quickly

   and stars brightened and the streets turned to waves of light


Monet or was it Matisse

I believe Monet was dead

and Matisse was laughing his

head off while painting the drunk street

into his mind of colours


jazz kills opera

****** becomes a fad

the spider dreams of its

teeth in flesh


little girls dance

on the stage

and the mothers will cry

with their veins popping

out their forehead from cheering

the little girls do not hear

           the cheers


it’s silent as john cage finishes

          his piece

and now we can hear the clapping

I gaze into the sun
and somehow it doesn't hurt the eyes.

I soon am the sun
drying out the grass
and the people dry up too.

I gaze into the sun
and it fascinates me the
turning colours in the circle
of fire.

singing
old songs in the
room alone
no one is home
and you do know
some like to roam
naked
in
the house
when
it's only
them
and the closed
doors.
Weird stuff
happens
and It happens
day by day
we will see it
well if they like to show it on the streets
than we'll see it
but some like to hide it
and they act as something else
behind closed doors.

writer's block has been trying
to go down my throat and
down the chest
dive in the stomach acid
swim in the intestines
writer's block
has been trying hard
to get me,
see what I did there.

woman and men killing and eating,
woman and men having the best of them all,
what is the best?
where does it lie?
Pulled pork sandwiches on a Sunday afternoon.

and in other houses beside me,
are men and woman
being kind and being loved,
and being fools.
breaking the glass,
drinking until the black covers their eyes.

men and woman breathing and hearing
upon each other,
men and woman beating themselves
sometimes hitting the woman,
slapping the man,
woman and men banging
the bed to hell.

I never hear from the girl who
lives in L.A OR Danville CA.
I live in London On
and there's this blonde
who I would like to meet
but something I fear.
is it me?
We used to talk, now that seems to
be done.

Why does waking up in a bed feel
so torturous some days,
I wake up at night,
two times,
three times.
I can never get a good sleep.
I want to feel someone's legs and
those morning eyes
when waking up at 10 in
the morning.

Rosie and her angel of love
scream in the ears of me

I finally eat but I haven't
started yet
I notice the bread is green
into the trash it goes
the whole five left pieces
of bread into the trash it goes

when I sleep
I need some noise
what music to choose
I sleep with classic 50's
and Chopin nocturnes
soft ambient noise is nice when
the moon is dripping

Caved in the bedroom
I like it
the people are far away
and I should shower
the shower is something godly
it traps me and I'm in it
for long draining minutes
of time that I'll never see again

two bodies

and they are filled with lies

two bodies
that don't love each other anymore
music never plays again
I imagine seeing you
Sherri in my bedroom
right now
you see me drinking
hard at one pm
I know you would be
sad and yelling at me
What the **** is wrong with you!
and the best of all
I would be taking it all from you
I feel too bad to yell back at you
your eyes shine in the room
while yelling
and I'm in love again.

my pain is numb
what is your pain like?
I seem to always have dreams
of Sherri and old friends and
old classmates who never think
of me
but I think of them.
Is that what a nightmare is?

The cops seem to only have eyes
for the wrong people.

I dig deep some nights in the head
for a romance, but
I'm too weird to kiss you.

Maybe we'll dream together for the
times sake. I love seeing the dogs running
from their owners in the streets.
I remember once my father lost the
dog and the dog was running up the street to
the busy cars.
My father was screaming telling to
stop chasing the dog,
but I kept chasing it.

I never really listen to people you see,
I need help and who wants to listen
to that?
everybody can't stand the mumbling of
a craze.

being hassled by the local drug dealers

and downtown shows- ***** fights

from drunken bozo’s

escape never no never escape

escape from downtown at night

people go crazy

I go crazy in a midnight bar with

others that surround me

I feel like throwing the chair at the window

the beer is not working

bars and clubs and people and city’s and buildings

take em’ all down

we don’t need them

we need quiet and peace sometimes

some never get quiet and peace until death comes over

I feel for them

Lost with nothing in my pockets
and love through my body

I drink some wine
I eat some chicken and other foods

Where did the peace go?

I killed the cat that tried to rip my ***** off with his baby claws

Moon is lit

the garbage is out

I feel dreadful and lonely
I feel smiles and laughter

Sad time changing always in the clouds the baby is crying and the mother is out of milk.

A waterfall where people have killed themselves diving down in the rocks

At 9:24 am the garbage is gone
and the next night it will already be filled

Plastic covered sheets in a old home and the husband wants to burn it down
Weak arms in me today with another glass of water filling me up along with white dry bread and meat and cheese
I’ve be eating meat and cheese sandwiches all week with some beer on the side.
Always Budweiser
Why Budweiser?

Crystal angels on the dinner table in the old folk’s home.
They think the angels will save them
I dream of a tiger trying to bite my hand off and driving fast and ******* the number 8 girl.

Beer always goes fast
and the **** breaks are long
eleven dollars for a six pack
the bus is horrendous
and sometimes the people bother me.
Everyone likes to talk these days it seems,
where did the quiet go?

Where did the first one go? She left like that
It was nothing good she has feelings of gold and I sink down below the stinking *******.

firing the bullets at the sea
Is worse than the people who lock their doors in the bathroom even though no one’s home.

I’ll write some poem at night when the sun is coming soon
People are sleeping
And I drink
I smoke
I write you dumb poems not even poems.
my poems- I listen to the music
- Being kind in rooms and beating myself- it happens.

Some while waiting for the bus have a tallboy hidden in their chest jacket pocket and sometimes they pull it out and take a big sip- they drink some more before the bus comes.

The bus comes
The people go
It’s freezing and raining outside
It’s spitting
The air smells fresh
some will finally accept happiness tonight.
Not me.

my eyes are tired and dry

it’s freezing in my room

my blanket does some warmth

where is the girl?

touch of bodies

with winners

and junk heads

I ate cheese - white cheese and crackers

and red pepper dip


my **** felt sore and I ****** five times today

one was in the shower

a warm slutty shower on me

wet and there’s a stain on the towel

clean underwear in the desk drawer

grey socks

my hair is a mess


i drink a glass of water

I peel my dead skin

people are too loud outside

their voices cave through my garage

and it irritates me

it creeps all over on me

I greed for something to make it all go away

listening to GSYBE!

listening to Chopin and deerhunter

my ears bleed ease with sounds of flash

and it makes life for some easier


but for me it brings a feeling of death and uncertain

listening to waves of sound from the genius that

climbs the stairway to utter madness and taste

music builds through the bones and vomits out the mouth

**** beautiful watching the flowers grow


with the sun glaring in my eyes

with people talking without a word to say

I sit on the school bench and close my eyes

hearing peace and *** and noise and obstruction

music will always play on with the people

mainstream eats the dirt of music and enjoys it

music lives

music kills the young

this is for the classy ones that dance alone on tables of glass,

and the evil greed that breathes in you some night.

do you feel healthy?


don’t get lost in the woods,

don’t eat after twelve at night,

you will suffer the next day.

people, crowds of beaten people,

lost in the womb of the globe.

peace will never win, peace seems to be dead these days.


and you will fight the great fight of living

and the touch

and the feeling

of greatness will come someday.

skin deep in the wet dirt and the fresh grass

it means something to someone

and to another it’s horseshit.

the living skin wins again.

winning isn’t something good you know.

buying a new lung and a new heart for the crippling body.

didn’t you hear those screams last night?

the outside of the city,

seeing the cars breathing and you shouldn’t be inhaling that.

one random hook up at the bar with a woman with a fat ***,

she soon disappears from me,

I could drink more tonight but

life isn’t being tough right now.

it beats the drums of the body,

it grows fear in the brain,

my head and back are sore,

from carrying metal sheets to the machine.

who was that beside me?

the oven gives me a burn mark.

and that is what pain feels in the skin.

I could imagine the nerves screaming on fire.

My friend tells me he gave up on his girl because she got lazy and smoked crazy dope too much and got sightly fat and got too much of a barrel of bombs that shouldn’t be around no more, throw her over the bridge, he gets fit and I get drunk and get lost in the streets and this little belly on me from something is soft and mean, good night I never hear in this house, crumbs on the table, crumbs and maybe mice- something- will feed from my food crumbs in the black night.

***** floor and the carpet in my bedroom stinks and it feels rough and I don’t have that girl to clean up for me, and no food to cook, I cook something and it tastes good, I’m a good cook, I should have been a cook.

I should have been something good in life but laziness takes over and ambition is nowhere to be found- how it felt to have you around once not eating for two days and you gave me your food, your soul, It made me fall for you more in some room that we will never touch again.

writing keeps me out of the ground.

and nobody in their 20’s should be in love.

what the **** is wrong with me?


hell, tonight the city cries,

hell must some kind of place to see,

but I won’t ever see it,

i don’t want to see it.


will I see you in ten years?

will I finally reach the celebration?

no celebration will ever be satisfied in me,

because holidays are a crime.

I want to see you tonight,

no, tonight will never come again.

angel America

have you met ******* scared Canada?

or is it the other way around?

The organs play around in the body

and people stink with wet *******

bus people tend to make you feel better about yourself

but then the random crazy comes aboard

and spews spit and incoherent words.



Monday with tired eyes

Tuesday with bleeding fingers

wednesday with a volcanic hangover

Thursday with sore lungs

Friday with shaking bones

this ****** thought he could toss me around

some Indian ****** with a loud mouth

I wouldn’t leave my seat and he begged like

a pooch telling me “can you move, I wanna sit there,

let me sit beside the girl man.”


He kept begging to be beside this girl

later on he tells me that I should’ve moved because he is a

bouncer

one lousy skinny bouncer

he tells me that he would’ve put me in a head lock like the others

don’t mess with him you see


I TELL him to shut the hell up

no one cares and no one wants to hear you

he doesn’t take to kindly to these words

I am never ready for a fight but if it happens

it happens

but this fight didn’t happen

he just stood there with his stupid face

trying to scare me with his little child eyes