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329 · Sep 2017
Back At It Again
A B Perales Sep 2017
I love it all
I can't get enough.

Inside some street dealers sweaty palm.
Wrapped in a tiny balloon stashed between some nameless guys missing teeth and rotting gums.

My prize and maybe my death patiently awaits me.

You can't substitute one for another.
I need more damage and I want pain free consequences that I won't remember.

If it doesn't hurt I can't use it.
If there's a price to pay I'll pay it tomorrow.
Just give me what I came for.

I pass my days with Wine and cigarettes.
Use the  least amount of conversation as possible.

I've used all the Drugs I need something  new.
She chased her pills with Beer and only cursed after *****.

Some come here seeking wealth and fame.
'We were all born here never got nothing else from it but pain .

Pawn shops and cheap motels line the street like  the girls along   Century Blvd.
Mansions and Asian gardeners, middle eastern kids with family money and Mc Donalds straws.

Sunsets end my days.
I'm only alive once the Moon takes control .

I dug a hole for you and my memories.
My hopes are too stubborn to die.
My dreams all turned to memories and there's a hole full of those already.
328 · Dec 2015
Lingering Kind Of Need
A B Perales Dec 2015
I lost sight of what it was
that brought me to this.

Skipped the holy water
and went straight for the wine.
A God who forgives
is God who won’t mind.

I got too many questions
with no one to ask.
I mumble to myself to
feel less alone.

I turn to the flower of forgetfulness
whose blood will ease my pain.

Two words appeared
on the tiny screen.
Two words that tore a hole right through
what I thought I had repaired.
“ It’s me…”

The Condor is  scavenging its way
back into existence
across barren California deserts.

I find I’m more concerned  
with things that are too far away
and too far gone for me or
anyone else to care for.

I had her for a little while.
But that little while
meant everything to me.

I got a number and
a place to lay my head.
A big enough stash to
keep this Monkey at ease.

I got all of what I need to
make it  through the night.

Yet  I still long for the
little  things
that never
did care just
a little bit for me.
A B Perales Dec 2016
We weren't equals and we knew this.

He cited what reference he
could find as his answers.

I looked to memories and
hand written notes.

He couldn't believe the textbooks could all be wrong
and the professors all victims of the same lie.

I couldn't believe he didn't know
what the Firmament was
or who Admiral Byrd was.

I spoke of God and his creations.
I told him the love God had for him
was everlasting.

That's when I lost him.

Like any Genius with a high IQ
he scoffed and stopped paying attention
once the truth become too much for him.
328 · Aug 2017
Can't call it waiting
A B Perales Aug 2017
I make it a point to never plan on it.
I don't designate a time or a place for it.
I don't schedule my days around it.

I don't wish to sound smug when I say
I try to put the least bit of effort into it.
I don't allow it to bother me when the words don't come.
I don't think about those lost thoughts or that unused line that looked so good on paper. Yet somehow it still made its way into the garbage along with the dinner I couldn't eat, the dishes she broke and the beers I already drank.

To me it is all meant for paper.
The thoughts that rob me of my sleep.
The memories that keep me from ever being truly happy.
The damage I've kept hidden for so long now I often forget why it is the tears come when they do.

Bukowski had a Bluebird and wrote about it only once.
Dante looked to Virgil and mentioned him by name.

You can not force a miracle nor could you guarantee a masterpiece.
I'm alone with this, scared half to death about losing this.

I don't force it to come.
Though I do recognize the Muse when it makes its self known
and appears to me on paper.
325 · Sep 2016
The Tenth Part Of The Year
A B Perales Sep 2016
If by Halloween night things
have still yet to be.
I'll consider myself lucky
if there's no October surprise
for me.
321 · Sep 2016
These Times
A B Perales Sep 2016
Our time here is lacking.
The gifts have all been given.

Withheld by men in long coats and deep hats.
The mysteries have yet to be explored.

We are what makes up this space in time.
History will be decided by actions set forth by men not Gods.

We are in the time of the deprived.
Our time will never know the gifts of Magic.

Truth in our age is but a story better told by Liars.
It's a mass hypnosis that very few can comprehend.

The way of things will one day come to an end .
We are living in the age of Deceit.
320 · Mar 2017
My Destination
A B Perales Mar 2017
I'm too paranoid for *******,
not social enough for alchohol.

Speed's not for me,
you gotta give up your dreams.
And I look forward to sleep.

I disliked **** once they
made it legal.
I can't mess with the pills
unless they're the happy ones
and a girl is involved.

I thought about my first
love, my first addiction.
There's no way I can say
I'll never do ****** again.

I'm not too sure about much
but I can say this for sure.
"Maybe one day my dear
but I can't go back to you today".
318 · Aug 2016
C85.90
A B Perales Aug 2016
He has to
drink his
meals,
so I drink
mine to.

I have to
drown his
cells in
nutrients.

I'm
trying
to
keep
someone
alive.
318 · Oct 2016
I'm Rambling It's Friday
A B Perales Oct 2016
Its my need to know
that keeps me from turning
out the lights on this forever.

The more i know
the less I feel the need
to add to the crowd.

I'm shattered like
a programmed
*** kitten or teen aged
fame slave.

I like a Moon that's
transparent and
clouds that wont
float away.

Girls on magazine
covers and Girls
in the Bar.

I like moving on the highway
and watching the flashing city lights
as I forget what it was that led me to this.

Fabricated history finds
its way into the text books.
How smart are you who
quotes the lies you've read
and argues their tales as truth.

There's never an ending to all
that we've been told.
The more I discover the
less I find was true.
315 · Sep 2015
The Truth As A Lie
A B Perales Sep 2015
Imagine if there was more to our world than what we've been trained to believe.
Imagine if it was all a Lie,the Heroes they create for us and the goals they've claimed to have already reached.
Imagine if all of that knowledge you forced yourself to remember turned out to be nothing more than words to keep you from asking questions.
Imagine a world as inhabitable as our own and as close as a vacation destination.
Imagine your mind free of the trained way and your thoughts as open as the ones I share with you today.
Imagine if you could an infinite plain with pockets of life like a honeycomb with worker bees there to protect it from the destructive hand of man.
Imagine if there was more,more mountains and clean rivers. Species to be discovered, unknown fruits to be eaten and medicinal plants whose cures can save us all.
Imagine all of this or Imagine just a few lines of this.
How would our leaders react to the fact there is more land.
Would they share it with the masses for us to seek out and destroy with our constant want for more?
Imagine if it was all a Lie from the man on the moon to the man you call your savior.
Imagine a ball floating in a space of nothing while spinning thousands of miles an hour with billions of living beings feeling nothing of this spin and seeing nothing of this ball.
The Earth is flat there is more land and thats a fact you will soon be forced to deal with.
314 · May 2016
Say Goodbye Without Smiling
A B Perales May 2016
Maybe its my thoughts wondering close
enough for her to feel me thinking of
those better days.

Its what's inside that attracts her.
Like a shark to bloodied water
or a gentle Moth to a deadly flame.

She knows when my heart goes
weak and my mind is preoccupied
with the visions of her when
we were both at our best.

I was the young fool who
fell head over heels in Love
with all of her.
Even the parts I knew were
bad.

That same beauty who still
finds the time throughout the years
to find her way back.

She stays only long enough to
be missed once she
leaves again for good.
312 · Apr 2017
Headline
A B Perales Apr 2017
Not even 90 days in
and the idiot bombs Syria.


Opinions and belifes
don't mean ****.


Prophecy is all
that matters now.
310 · Apr 2022
Too Late
A B Perales Apr 2022
There's been a lot of unnecessary death in San Pedro these last few years.
People I once considered brothers, some at one time I would have done anything for.
We are all getting older, a lot of things have changed.
Some of the things we used to abuse now have the power to **** us.
Be mindful of what it is you are doing, things aren't the same anymore.
  Remember Never Do It Alone  its not the same anymore.
Please be careful, you know who you are.
Call me if you have to but just don't do it alone.
The reasons we've all had for not speaking for years shouldn't matter anymore.
We are living in a time like no other, not everyone will make it to see the outcome of future events.
I should've answered his message instead of being mad about something 10 years ago.
Now it's too late and there's nothing worse than too late.

Rest Easy My Friends
F.Laponovich
B.Ardias
R.Monje
D.Monje Sr.
R.M Monje
B.Wheat
C.Ivisovich
M.Faust
J.Beazera
fent is garbage
308 · Dec 2015
Stained
A B Perales Dec 2015
The rains
crept
up on
Los Angeles.

Right along
side the
silent
morning
fog.

And the air
was clear
and devoid of
that ugly scar
of pollution.

Within the days
the ugliness,
my ugly cough
and the hurtful air
returned.
307 · Jun 2021
Decree
A B Perales Jun 2021
Let our conflict
never cease.

May we avenge
our dead
and raise our
young on war.

We are enemies
and fighting is
the only way
to die.

Let us
remain
enemies.

Enemies like
the Pigmy's
and the Cranes.

With far too
many dead
to ever
make peace.
THEY LIED TO US IN SCHOOL
304 · Oct 2015
Alley Talk XII
A B Perales Oct 2015
I don't need
you to
Love me
I just need you
to do what
I want.
301 · Aug 2016
Ways of the Season
A B Perales Aug 2016
Hunters wear camoflauge and
play the wind while stalking their prize.

Breath when you squeeze the trigger
the way he taught you when you were just a boy.

Make a clean cut ,save the liver and the still warm heart.

Don't take more than what you need.

A good sized buck can last you all winter.

And always be sure to leave something behind for the
wolves and the wolverines.
300 · Aug 2016
Life Of The Party
A B Perales Aug 2016
The music wasn’t too loud and the band played only instrumental music.
Music that I found rather pleasant as it drifted its way above the senseless conversation and obnoxious laughter of one particular group of young drunk ladies .

Tall potted plastic plants stood stone silent next to cheap pressed wood tables filled with used paper plates ,plastic forks, wadded up napkins and half full clear plastic cups.
The floral arrangements had been set at each table with care for the guest to admire. The flowers  had all began to droop as the air became more stale with the sweat and the breath of the drunken people.

I overheard conversations about money and addicted daughters, ******* bosses and good deals on tires.
I heard about how stiff the drinks were and how long the ladies room line was.
I heard them admire the fact there was no traffic on the way here and how the food was ok.
I purposely listened for any comment made about the dying young flowers whose time was cut short in order to be at their table.
I listened the whole night .
I heard no such thing.

A pair of huge ******* brushed against my bad shoulder as a large woman with dyed black hair and too much jewelry on began to speak into my ear.
She spilled a splash of her drink on my only good pair of shoes.
She knew what she had done but never bothered to apologize.

The cheap faux wooden dance floor laid there like a minefield devoid of the swaying bodies and sweaty torsos.
Yet for some reason the music still played on.

I noticed she had a strange need to be as close to you as possible as she spoke.
Her conversation was about as cheap as my shoes and the empty linoleum dance floor.

The party balloons began to lose their ability to float above the senseless conversation,
cheap cologne ,dying young flowers, plastic plants and plastic *******.
I smiled as they began to slowly fall to the floor.

For the third time that night I cursed my decision to come here and mill about with the rest of the cattle.
I went to the bar and got another drink.

Overweight women with undersized clothing stood in line to the single stalled ladies room like needy mothers in a well fare line.

This pair of ******* kept themselves snug against my bad shoulder as the lip stick painted mouth with the tobacco stained teeth kept on about what she did and where she went, who she knew and where she wanted to be and how badly she wanted to smoke.

I downed my drink, the drinks were strong, the drinks were good.
I stopped her in mid sentence and said.
“The trees they all die in silence in the forest’.

I made my way towards the exit passed the dying flowers and the sweaty men.
I hit the double doors with all I had and stepped out into the welcoming night.
I took in the scents of the salt water and the burning fuel, the taco truck across the street and the ***** still on my lips.

Before I left I went back in and tipped the Mexican bartender a 20 dollar bill.
He took the 20 then offered me one on the house which I gladly accepted. It was the strongest drink I had ever had outside my home .
He smiled as I thanked him , his smile held a row of Gold capped teeth the rest were the straightest set of teeth I had ever seen .

I pulled out a extra 10 and left it on the bar.
The Gold toothed bar tender and his stiff drinks were obviously the life of the party and the only real reason I was glad I came.
300 · Apr 2022
Leaving California
A B Perales Apr 2022
I aimed the old car
south and
ran as many red
lights as my luck
would allow.

Kept my sunglasses
on as I
listened to Frusciante
singing
nothing but the
truth all through
the magic of
my radio.

Left the madness of
the city and
entered the
land where
atomic bombs
and peoples sanity
have both
been tested.

Desert roads
littered
with desert lies,
like oasis and
promises made
in Vegas.

I took a toot
off the side of
my hand like
I seen them do in
the movies.

Wasted the better
part of my stash
on this foolish
trick.

This ride I'm
taking is real.

On my way
I'll be looking for a
wild young girl
to roll my joints
and laugh at my
jokes.
Give my eyes
a place to rest in.

I'm looking for
a lovely from the
low side of town.
Whose spirit has
yet to be broken
and whose mind
isn't already
filled with their
lies.

Watched as the
California landscape
turned from
beaches and tropical
palms to
cactus taller than
most men
and dry forgotten
land that
most come to
die in.

From congested
freeways that hold
the drivers hostage.
To wide open
desert highways
where its safe to
drink straight from
the bottle without
that pestering public
servant there to
ruin your ride.

If I make it out of
this dam
desert alive
with my wallet
and my sanity still
intact.
I'll look back
at it all
as just another
memory.
And try
not to give
in to
ever going
back.
i luv LA    
California Dreaming
300 · Dec 2016
Wasted But Breathing
A B Perales Dec 2016
The need becomes a clamor
somewhere deep within the
recesses of all that calls for
my attention.

The demands of living,
the drama of the morning
and stepping out into the day.

The smile I'm forced to wear
stretched wide across my disdain.
The handshakes and back slaps
that secretly cause me to cringe
at the feeling of another's flesh
coming in contact with my own.

The false friendships and the false wealth.
The great lie that is joy
and the camouflaged slavery
they are all unknowingly chained to
with links made up of loans and wants.

To coil a scarred hand around the beautiful curves of the wet bottle is to find sanctuary from the sweat and the toil from lasting another day.
There's pills or the poppy,
the slumberous narcotic sold in
bindles near the shore.

There's plenty to run to,
various versions of the need.
It reminds you how powerless you
are in the form of warm, beads of cold sweat
racing down your aching cramped up spine.

It knaws at the marrow and
tears at the last bit of will you have yet to lose.

Not every end is indeed the goal.
I wish to go on for just a little while longer.
Long enough to turn that need into an art form.
All of which is made up of magic that comes from living hard
and in secret.

Still managing to survive with this nagging,
pleading, wicked kind of need.
299 · Feb 2016
Early Morning
A B Perales Feb 2016
Fill their tunnels before
they fill our streets
with blood.

They're hiding
God outside
the dome.

I don't feel
the need
to travel far
from
my home.
298 · May 2016
Created A Space
A B Perales May 2016
The rays fall from the sky
onto the sea of people below.
  They do what they are meant to do .
And they do nothing more.

Another world another life.
A million promises with
nothing to look forward to.

You live as you die the goal
is to avoid the rains and
stay looking beautiful
as you do it.

Have you realized
its the waters.
All that is beyond is
as so below.

A whale's song could be
heard for miles.
An ocean wave can
stretch across our world.

Water forms in everything
it fills the glass,
cools the drink, it grows the
Hemp and the Pumpkin Squash.
It cleanses the soul while
hiding the  Gods.

Ever wonder why the sky is blue.
Why the rains are so sacred
and why the sky is blue.

It could take your breath
and give you life.

The rains that fall
are the heavy laden tears
of the dead and drowning .
293 · Feb 2018
A Time To Be Alive
A B Perales Feb 2018
Everything's a lie, everything.
Things are coming to light.
they cant hide it anymore.

Too much information can be exchanged
with little to no effort.

They went to the Moon but threw away the data.
They're driving teslas in space and expect you to believe it.
You're called crazy for questioning their claims.

Everything they teach us is wrong
Everything we thought we knew means nothing at all.

We are born of lies and
die believing in them.

Giants Dragons Titans
Silicone Conduits Straight to the Heavens.

Evidence all lay in stone.
I tried to tell them and they thought I was crazy.

Energy is free and there is truly
nothing new under the Sun.

Airlines charge you for fuel they don't use.
Everything should be free like the energy the
Spires and the Sky Scrapers
gather ,while we dig for coal and bleed.

There should be no homeless anywhere unless that's how they want to be.

Prove to me we are spinning and
I'll speak of the plain no more.

The curses and the man made disease.
Half these things we never need.

There's no such thing as too many people.
Overcrowding what?
Nobody truly knows how much land
there is still unseen.

They made so many of our lives so hard.
Everyone for a very long time
we've all missed out on so much.

The survivors of the Deluge what few there were to be.
Made an oath to keep the knowledge their secret.
They spread out across their new world to rule us.
Those who came after the flood and who knew nothing of the teachings of old.

Good little workers ,consumers that's all we will ever be.
I want something more on my headstone besides
"He was good worker"
" He loved his job"

We've  been given so very little
of what was meant for us all to enjoy .

There's no time for the arts.
No time to create, to enjoy
to truly know what gifts he left for all of us .

The Golden Age they had it, they lived it.
Then they blew it just like we are now.

Except we've never known any other
way that's better than this.
wake up
291 · May 2016
Just Like That
A B Perales May 2016
The last I heard
she was headed across
the desert
to a waiting job and
new found friends.

She stopped calling
when I suggested
she came back home.

Turns out she was
lost with
no real friends and
a monkey on her back.

Alone the way she
wanted it to be.

Dancing under the
neon lights
for the lonely men.

Somewhere in the
City of Sin.
287 · Feb 2017
Don't Leave Me
A B Perales Feb 2017
You don't truly appreciate life.
All the joys and sorrows
that come along with it.

Until you have done all you could
to comfort someone you care for .

While you stand helplessly watching the one you love
as they struggle to hold onto to this thing we call life .
286 · Jan 2017
2017
A B Perales Jan 2017
There's a lot less
Heroes
still alive today.
279 · Aug 2015
Its Different Now Pt.1
A B Perales Aug 2015
The first time
I was too young
to do
anything else but
enjoy it.

Trying to understand it
was too much
like thinking.

And when you're young
and as free as I was
you didn't spend
too much time on thinking
about anything at all.

When I was young a thought
became a deed before I had
a chance to think it
over again.
278 · Oct 2016
Remember This
A B Perales Oct 2016
Sitting in L.A traffic with no A.C
nodding in and out
of this constructed kind of reality.

Wondering about things like
where did the time go?
Where did my friends go?
Why so many lies?
How am I to convince her I've changed
when I've changed very little.

Cell phone rings and I ignore it.
A semi blast its semi horn and
pulls my chin away from my chest.

I'm tired but I don't sleep.
I have nightmares of a life without these
words.

Women all over this city,
can't go a day without seeing
one you'll never have.

Bar keeps and Cops talking about
politics and ball chasing men.
I stopped going to Bars once the
original Bar Fly had passed.

Going through the things I wrote
while up state in a prison cell .
Seems like only yesterday I was
longing for this city.
This city whose
toxic air , beautiful women
and cheap downtown ******  
together are slowly killing me.

Suicide's too easy I'd rather
sit it out and wait.

This traffic and these lipstick painted faces.
These hot summer days in October
and my poems all unsigned.

There's a secret and I know it,
our world was someone else's mine.

Scatter what's left of me
into the smog.
Burn me at death,
my only wish is to be forgotten.
278 · Sep 2016
Alley Talk XV
A B Perales Sep 2016
There is no truth .

It's all a rich mans joke.
A B Perales May 2019
The strait of California
returned as the Gods ripped
the golden state free
from America.

The Shamans cried for
New Albion as the great
city fell into the sea.

Above the cries, the falling rain
and the crashing sounds of
what can only be called The End
came the voice of certainty.
"There's no stopping this."

The waters above and
the waters below all
moved with the
deep lakes, the crashing falls
and the thawing glaciers.

Thunder clouds were just
to block our view.
The snaking rivers and
the gentle streams
flowed with the winter run off.
Flooded city streets,
washed out state highways.

California will once again
be an island soon.

The Law of reversal rules
people's lives if they say
its "This" it's almost always "That."
2012 or 21.
My Fathers
biggest fear was always
them coming for our guns.
My Remington and my.45,
those ******* in their holes
all waiting on us to die.

The canals and the sand bars
somebody big had to make.
The L.A river and those who live in it.
Sinkholes and hail storms.
All fall into endless wells
that flow on forever
keeping everything clean.

If you look for the signs you
can't help but see them.
Like rain in Los Angeles on
a Memorial day weekend.

So it was and the Gods
kept their promise
and everything was gone.

Standing on top
of an ancient Titan with
every anwser to
every question ever asked.

In this moment amongst
the debris the bodies
and the ever moving rushing waters
the man who knew everything
suddenly felt Small.
Godspeed
A B Perales Aug 2016
I'm not one of those
**** CANCER people.

You can't Understand something if you say
**** it.

But I will say Cancer is something I would not wish
upon any living being.

It takes away too many people far before their time.
All the money and material possessions people hold so dear become instantly useless when Cancer comes along.

This is only the beginning for my
small families fight against Cancer.

I plan on learning all I can about this disease
it's origins, reasons and possible cures.

To say **** Cancer is in no way helping anyone's situation.
In order to make a difference in the battle against
Cancer you must first Understand what it is your dealing with.

To enter such a battle with a ******* attitude
will only keep you from truly making a difference
to those inflicted with it today
and those who will fall victim to it tomorrow.
Research  until your mind swells and your eyes bleed.
A B Perales Apr 2022
Everyone needs a fan.
Some earn their living from fans.
Some despise them, yet still do the things that attracts them.

My city attracts fans.
They come from all over the Plain.
Their favorite writer lived and died here.

His wife still occupies the only home the writer ever owned.
He's buried in our local cemetery.
The headstone isn't fancy it bears his full name, his years on earth and some boxing gloves. Though all the stories I've ever heard said he always fought in the streets.
And two words.
"Don't Try".

Fans often leave beer cans, wine bottles, cigars and cigarettes, notes and printed copies of his work.
Which to me is all fine except when they decide to visit after hours and leave their messes behind.
If you come here seeking to catch a glimpse of his home and maybe even his wife. You will only see large old Sycamore trees and giant palm fronds that hide his home like a Gisha's silk fan across her face.

If you don't already know where it is good luck asking any of the locals.
San Pedros always been a rather ruff port town the place where sailors and ****** came to spend their money and test their skills.

They'll lead you all over, up and down streets similar to his with its Royal Palms lining each side of the block.
All poking their fronds towards the heavens a hundred feet above the L.A Harbor.

When you come here you will be welcomed with white California smiles but when you start asking questions about his ivy hidden classic Los Angeles Spanish style villa with its fruit trees and grape vines.
We'll first tell you to please be respectful which will only help convince you we are telling you the truth.
Before we write down directions sending you to the wrong place.

That's how Hank would've wanted it.
biggest fan
243 · Dec 2016
Boo!!!!
A B Perales Dec 2016
It's scares me
when I talk to people
and hear how
wrapped up they
are in
meaningless *******.
224 · Nov 2017
Rules of the Dragon
A B Perales Nov 2017
If you insist on using
please don't ever get
high alone.

Don't be a Pig.
Never mix it with pills
or  liquor.

Always respect
what it is you are doing.

Never lose that respect.
The day you do
Death will come calling.

And there's no coming
back from death .
R.M & B.A   Rest Easy My Friends
223 · May 2019
My Struggle
A B Perales May 2019
I'm too paranoid for *******,
not social enough for alcohol.

Speed's not for me,
you gotta give up your dreams.
And I look forward to sleep.

I disliked **** once they
made it legal.
I can't mess with the pills
unless they're the happy ones
and a girl is involved.

I thought about my first
love, my first addiction.
There's no way I can say,
'I'll never do ****** again.'

I'm not too sure about much
but I can say this for sure.
"Maybe one day my dear
but I can't go back to you today."
A B Perales Apr 2022
There is such a
thing as paradise.

Its not on any
of our maps.

They gave us space and
kept paradise a secret.

Its only spoken of
in the mystery schools.

Its the promise of paradise
that keeps
powerful men in line.

They populate paradise
with the dead and
the missing .

The promise of paradise
is only for those on the
side of the serpent.

Or those willing to raise their
young inverted.
stop looking up and focus on whats straight ahead .
211 · Apr 2022
Crowleys Kids
A B Perales Apr 2022
Unionized Teachers and
Radicalized Administrators
believe somehow they know whats best.

Agenda driven issues disguised as ideas.
Tolerance and equality have both lost their way.

Bearded women dressed in *******
read stories about Princess Boys to confused children.

Kindergarten boys drawing Crayola vaginas
while the girls form phalluses from play do.

Inverted celebrities influence
the young.
While the verbal history of their
elders is ignored.

All of this is by design.
The Law of Reversal
is their law
not mine.

Their goal is to
usher in The End of Days
like they have so many times before.

The twenty somethings
are all for science and progression.
Yet have no idea
what freedom ever was.
reset 2020
172 · May 2019
Somewhere South 110
A B Perales May 2019
The life times worth
of scar tissue made
the shape of
my head look funny.

My hands
My poor arthritic scarred up hands.
The tip of my pinkie finger
was bitten off by a
Puerto Rican kid
when I was 10.

He spit it out
but we couldn't find it.

I dated local girls and
even thought I fell in Love.

I often see my first Love
and the one after that.
Still see them both
around town today.

We don't have much to say.
I can't complain.
I had them both
when they were good.

They won't have
nothing to do
with me today.

I got my first tattoo in a
California prison
Lost my first Love
before I came home.

I used to listen to
Rock n Roll music.

Small venues with
loud Los Angeles Bands.

Outdoor festivals with
California Girls and
Drugs that won't **** you.

Today California's burning,
the Drugs don't seem to
be working and
I can't listen to music
without breaking
down in tears.
169 · May 2019
Underneath The Dome
A B Perales May 2019
Crude signs painted
with the blood of the
living denounced
their latest decree.

Standing at the podium
spreading more lies.
All the world be your
theater and
nothing here is real.

Daytime cocktails under the
shadows of the palms.
Blood thinning and
running cold.
Cold like the serpent in the
summer sun.

You left your dreams in a
waste basket a few miles
outside of Vegas.
And all there is to do
is turn the music up
and lie to her some more.

Black draped youth
waving flags of
revolutionary red.

Pock scarred and some beautiful faces
all aimed up towards the waters.
The sound of millions in the know.
Voices echo off the firmament
and cause ripples to race across
the very fabric of the heavens.

All of them screaming
"We KNOW!!"

And the Gods remained silent
as their secret held no more.
its flat
163 · Apr 2022
Talking to the muse II
A B Perales Apr 2022
Can you
write
without the
drugs?

Create
without the
sadness?

Make
something
without
losing
it all first?

I probably
can but
we'll
never know.
A B Perales Sep 2014
My hand shot straight out towards the wall like a shotgun blast as I laid on my sore back covered in a thick film of resiny drug addict sweat.
I was awake and it was hot as Hades in that fucken room.
I felt around the crumpled sheets and half dozen pillows and found my phone without waking the naked body next to me.

My eyes adjusted to the bit of sunlight that found its way past my blinds. The body next to me was wide at the hips with crude tattoos on both arms and an obvious cover-up on her upper back. I tried to make out the name she once loved and quickly gave up . She stirred as I tried getting a look at her.
Her face was covered with a thick mane of dark brown hair, I wanted to wake her but I couldn't recall a name. So I let her be and focused on the LCD screen in my hand.
There was a  picture of a half naked girl behind a thin red wall flashing "Download!"
The sucker I am had to do it ,and that's how my every move  was known for the rest of this ****** off ,weird *** day about to tell you about.

I started jerking or twitching about 4 months ago back when I started smoking the pook pretty much everyday.
Everyday.
Religiously like an alter boy and his ******* sessions .
I stopped sleeping normally and my appetite wanted only sweets or alcohol.When I did manage to burn myself out and pass out for a bit I noticed that I never dreamed.
I didn't dream that night either or the morning as I laid there in the 82 degree stuffy *** room listening to the sound of some useless fan squeaking and creaking it's way back and forth across the room.
Doing nothing but creating the illusion of relief from the hot summer morning.
The hips next to me didn't seem to mind the heat.
I reached over and aimed the cheap fat towards her wide ***
and positioned it to stay there.

September in the city of Los Angeles still felt like July in the 1990's when it seemed to always be hot.
Which probably contributed to the amount of senseless gang murders that spread all over the city during that time like locust.

Hot ,uncomfortable poor people get ******* pretty easy and its too dam hot to be fighting like some God Dam fools in the middle of the hot *** street.Those were  some ****** days and if you paid attention to the city ,you'll find it never really ended.
Everybody just stopped talking about it until it just went away and became normal.
Normal like that dogs gonna hit on the freeway,or normal like everyone in your building not speaking a word of English except the kids.
And they're all bad as Hell.

The last dream I had was in a co-ed detox somewhere the fucken Valley.I was all Doped up on Subutex and Adderall.
All the girls there were either strippers or **** stars or both.  Man....

Anyway,Yea so I got up with another of those weird *** jerks or spasms or whatever. I first noticed them while I was on a good nod you know when you're at that place you spent atleast 40$ trying to get to and everything about you just submits as the petals of the poppy protect you from all that you're dying , trying to forget.
I started to notice every time I fell down that rabbit hole of comfort and forgetfulness I was always being forced out of it by an uncontrollable kick of the leg or swing of the arm.
I mostly ignored it the way I tended to do when it came to things regarding my health. I treated my body like an old second hand car I had purchased with a bounced check.
Only now as I approached 40 did I began to worry.
But I quickly shrugged that moment of worry off as I got up and headed toward the head.
something i've been working on might even call it a novel.
Don't be a loser its copyrighted

— The End —