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Carl Hoek Feb 2014
I stepped outside with father's boots on, feeling the heaviness of his feet in mine.

The people in my country's soil then clawed into his boots and pulled me down until I could no longer breathe in anything but dense thick soil and earthworm particles traveling into my mouth.  

The spirits of my land traveled through me as well.  They drifted in and out of my body, trading places and laughing, laughing at me and my sad predicament.

One man stumbled towards me as if under a drunken afternoon spell.  His mouth hung open, saliva pouring down.  When he came beside me he spat into both my eyes and I screamed, falling to the grass beneath my feet.  I saw black and smelled drool and could not open my eyes.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the man from the mountain open his razored jaw and draw a poisoned needle from underneath his tongue.  I watched the needle fly from his finger through my father's ear and out the other, turning all his fluids into ones of pure jade and stone.  Then the foreigner strapped my jaded father to his back and continued to ride into forbidding wastelands.

Inside my head lived a frightened little boy who nibbled at his nails whenever a strange man glanced at him.  I could not leave that fright alone.

I left my home and family to find him, and entered the woods.  I walked deeper and deeper into the world of trees that reached the sky and damp earth that smelled of life, into a world I had always been warned not to enter.  The day I left my home, I could sense the adventure that lay ahead.  Armed with nothing but courage in my chest and good sense on my shoulders, I let my feet lead me into the great unknown.

Then, as I was about to reach the top of the mountain, a giant form appeared before me in the shape of soil.  As I came closer to it I realized that it was not a giant form but composed of hundreds of small people from the earth.  The mountain had come alive, and it did not want me to pass its presence.

As I reached the mountain's top I took my father's bones and held them to the ground.  The people of the earth relinquished their skins and flesh taken over the years of people passing over their home.  The skins attached the bones and rose, forming into the figure of a man I knew from when I was young.

My feet, wearing their newfound bottomed shoes, pressed gently across the soils as not to wake the men clamoring upwards.  But I still felt a shadow trail at my footsteps that did not feel like my own.  As I walked faster the shadow moved behind me as well, sometimes touching my bare skin with sodden ground.

Before I entered my home my brothers came out, and, thinking I was a peddler, asked how much the jade I carried was worth.

As Mother smoothed her hand over Father's forehead she looked at me reassuringly.

Everyone then stared through the guise of the false man beside me.  The person, who acted as a substitute for my accomplishments, began to bite his nails in a rampant manner.

My lying brothers cried when they were forced to walk on the ground without their leather bottomed shoes.  I watched as they, like my father had once, were swallowed by the ground.
Carl Hoek Feb 2014
we see the dying die. i walk down the stairs and give them nothing everyday. as i was walking down 8th ave one afternoon, i was approached by a girl who was about my age. she was screaming indiscriminately  
"please sir! can you help me?! i have no idea where i am and i don't have enough money for a bus ticket home."

i drudged a drunken look up at her
i was tired
i wanted the bus ticket home
and the beautiful new york city girl you sit next to
you know
the ones they keep up in front
but they sit in back

she told me she had gotten on the wrong bus and wound up in new york city
just by accident
that she didn't have any money
and her family was worried and needed her back home

8th and 43rd
she wined at anyone who passed
with a terrified look
as if she was to be eaten or sacrificed

her story was unconvincing
i gave her twenty dollars to get home
i truly hope she did
but in my heart of hearts i know she spent it on drugs
she was a good actress
and should get what she deserves

after i handed her the bill
she asked
" oh my god , can i give you a hug!? please?! "
she grabbed me tight and was almost crying
she was so beautiful
in trouble
as if i had given her life itself

our elders do not understand the affect of there traditions
upon the truthful way of life
so we sit here and wither
victims of just being tired
Carl Hoek Feb 2014
as a human being  shoved up the earth
there is value in being worthless

as i sit now i can see the beautiful life that i could've taken
at once the mystic seas of the mind could be calmed
hair is fleece
a rotten trigger
light hitting the iris at different angles
often leading to a notice of terror
a key-note of anger
the day when turtles lie on their backs
and give up

far up the mountain
the dowry is paid
from the grooms family to the wives'
as it should be
they dance

the magic is in the look
the feel, in the scenery
hearts far out of body and out of sync
Carl Hoek Jan 2014
Yell at the indignity of abscence and cringe in the shadows
All is lost upon the alters of discovery
We still cant feel a thing
The breaths are taken too far
We are too relaxed
Hair is too long
Eyes have too much light

The seldom perfect night is leaning towards reaccurance
And pulled over the eyes of the ones who can really see

We hallucinate and devote it to realism
We observe real truth and put it on the brain backburner
To be torn up and chewed into creative gold

28.6 years in the hole for innocence
Freedom for unending criminality
This is just throw up and dying fish

Dead air with angel wings
Blue hair and red eyes
Make everybit your suffering
Sleep when you're dead
Dream about *real life
Carl Hoek Jan 2014
any day now the old man will wake from his sleep and tell us all to "get the **** out!"
every hour there is atleast one second of every minute devoted entirely to hatred
no matter who you are or what you say

any day now they will set us free
and you can run through regrets
fly through missed sunny days
breathe real love
it will be heaven on earth
i promise

injustice is the theme
brutality its accord
the dead are stuck in dying
the living stuck in life

blanket wraps around nitrogen skies
something has changed
one hand always aimed at the ground
at the unforgiving dirt

it's the one liners that keep you going
any day now the surf will come in
Carl Hoek Jan 2014
so the door slams and the windows open
air rushes in full of lustful wonder
this is singular thinking in a fog of sweet adolescence

i come from devils' fur
un-washed and smelling of sulfur
i reep your evil sews
we blink at each other

unwilling to file for glory papers
unchecked harshness towards the self
an oblivious and romantic way of being
the shadows cast behind zoo walls will follow their own mist

i speak like a broken muffler now
if i can speak at all

and the singing
only the last gulps of saltwater
churning up in the esophagus of a man lost at sea

breathing in the doom
it is only nourishment

the abyss seems at a low tide
it is passable and inviting
death is laid upon a lattice work

and they all wonder what you're really up to
Carl Hoek Jan 2014
i've come to settle debts and unrequited loves upon bar stools and bloodied hatchets
up and down used condoms on faces of horror story linens
smiley faces and hearts above the grey clouds gleaming sovereignty
where the earth bathes

she weeps
" don't do that, we have a motor"
i cry and kneel down and beg forgiveness
the waves are crashing at my feet
i can see dead fish glistening just above the water
bobbing up and down
its just like good music

hot air winds of desert motion
steaming and boiling the life force
so it comes out
far out

make me spill the wine oh great god of ****
make my heart contend to the greatest spirit of dying
and wake up
still drunk
i will not spit the light in vain
only to enrich the folly that we call life
and they call entertainment

i can sit here forever
spewing out inequities of college kids "learning"
i can sit here forever
adding to the dying and suffering and coloring of something
and it shall remain
i will die where you left me
like a snake shedding its skin
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