twisted acids building sick
ten hour internal processers
wore and frayed
spilling refuse
leaking bacterial microbes
feeding diseased cells
revitalizing decomposition
foreign substance discovering pleasant surroundings
calling for manifest destiny
and the claiming of new regions in the name of an unseen king
wave after wave of intruders build homes
spread culture
influence the overall society
engage the natives
become allies
all the while undermining the land itself

systematic injustice personified
defended by Constitutional underpinnings
a flag of hate, slavery, and intolerance
waves in the warm July breeze
as a debate rages
over the ideas of heritage
versus
symbolism
becoming the latest social conversation –
systematizing racial profiling
for Aryan officers
lost in the code of silence
giving the badge both a blue
and black image
of bruised pride
the pride of a nation –
poor pigment-ally challenged youth
bound to suffer
indignity of an atrocious nature
at the hands of your teachers,
preachers,
authority figures,
and family members
so culturally *******
that they cannot see themselves propagating
their own despair –
this nation of victim blamers
hates its own multi-ethnic skin
cannot look into the proverbial mirror
without shuddering at the view
in one thousand years
when all humanity is a nice,
even, shade of brown
what will we hate about each other then? –

slight motion causes distant fog to swirl
as grey becomes blue
highlighting the green field
in the pre-sunrise morn
watery eyes look across dew covered grass blades
individually
weaving a tapestry of braids
soft chipping symphony
thrushes abound
startled hooves crash through unseen underbrush
and the first light at first blinds
then offers the tree line a perfect outline
refraction action dances through
millions of mirrors glisten
diamond style
and vaporize instantaneously
flameless fire engulfs
my peaceful meadow  
claustrophobia grips me
as natures’ noises and notions
envelope me
frantic squabbling of scrub jays
elk whistle too near
branches crash as the wind storm
tears the mountain away
I lay still as a soft white light emerges
a beacon in the sky
signifying reality
home base
something to focus on
as the fog clears and blue replaces insanity
I slowly stumble across the shiny green
filling my hat
with enough fungus
to share with the community

razor blades slip slow
leaving behind reddened lines
drowning in incoherent flow

swollen throat continues to grow
unable to focus my mind
razor blades slip slow

cannot relate to my favorite show
or enjoy the swaying Pines
drowning in incoherent flow

choking on ***** and snot from my nose
wishing I could simply unwind
razor blades slip slow

tissue hurts me when I try to blow
I long to just feel fine
drowning in incoherent flow

what am I reaping from this terrible sow?
I may as well go blind…
razor blades slip slow
drowning in incoherent flow

hate gets such a bad rap
I hate popcorn kernels in my teeth
they are more than an irritant
outside of the simple terminology:
“dislike”
“negative feelings”
or
“makes me sad”
no, I hate them
so much so I refuse to eat popcorn
caramel-coated
buttered flavored
spicy southwest seasoning
can **** ***** if sprinkled
on corn
dried and popped –
when I think of 130 military bases
spread across this entire globe
infecting cultures
with American ideology
so that our corporations can make more money
while simultaneously gaining ownership
over sovereign peoples’ resources
only to then sell those same resources back to the original owners
again, simply for the profit margin
hate fills my veins
I clinch my fists
and pound the table
I scream at the injustice
while wearing Nikes –
hate is pure
raw and real
it is the reverse to every love and joy
it is the counter to each peace and harmony
without it, who could truly know
balance –

energy seeker reeking of leeks
taking a leak
streaking for weeks
freaks squeak
in bleak sneakers
Sneaking peepers
beat feet
pretending all fins were
dorsal
eating dried morsels
of old oiled kippers
flipping off
soup dippers
tripping off duped riffers
picking bent strings
singing “bling bling”
with gum-wrapper rings
Queens bring flare
ensnaring rarified misfits
quick to quip
“whadda jip” –

pattering softly
kitten mittens against
waxed linoleum
barely audible
yet, transcendent
carrying thoughts along rivulets
blending with currents
seeking the sea –
invading raider
giant droplets
crash against lily pad leaves
sending fish frantically
to darting
leaves, pummeled
give up the fight for life
and fall
drowned in the deluge –
it felt as if I had been running
August in Alabama
visibility grossly limited
coated and covered
in only shorts and sandals
a thin vail shrouded the coastline
distorted images played in the mist –
t’was the rain this morn
sending ideas twirling
splashing against the window frames
giving rise to waves of creativity
and inspiring this write –

startling images of earthquake destruction
mangled bodies strewn hitherto
charred flesh of orphaned infants
lie motionless on the partially uplifted
hospital/ monastery floor
trying to lift and remove rubble
in a desperate attempt to locate
the sobbing baby
which I can hear, but not see –
34 train cars piled
twisted metal sitting
in an oil and chemical spill
hazmat teams stare blankly
at the massive carnage
overwhelmed by the mayhem
and poisoned by their presence
within hours the first responders
have passed,
the last moments..
chocking and gurgling on their own blood
creeping up from internal damage –
wide-eyed militants stand armed
at the entrances to FEMA camps
angrily shouting and pushing American citizens
into places of detainment
while laughing about failed democracy –
night after night
I wake from terrible dreams….
Mt. Hood major eruption
ending Portland
and impacting the Columbia,
Juan De Fucca slippage
Oregon and Washington coastline in shambles
thousands dead and bodies lost,
rogue asteroid smashing headlong
into the Atlantic seaboard
leaving near ½ of our 308 million
washed away
like the Atlanteans
or the Egyptian Kings of old,
sweat coated sheets have become the norm….
nightly visitations of misshapen faces
poking and prodding,
looking at the Cascades
as harbingers of radioactive derbies
and witnessing the physical decline
of its natural inhabitants,
the ever propagandized
deadly threat of extremists
bent on killing innocents,
my tired eyes only wish for peace –
It is not kosher to refer
to oneself as a prophet or
seer or the future,
but those of you who choose
to blindly accept that everything remains
the same
will only be remembered
through songs and tales
yet unwritten –

somewhere over two packs a day
budget smokes
tobacco and chemicals swept up off the plant floor
combines with well over one thousand gallons of Jim Beam
hate-fest on the liver and lungs –
from under twenty the ******* and LSD
sherm’s with the break dancers
in the Frisco Bay
years of **** abuse
both via the nose,
and also from a foil tube
………….
and then the ****** –

50 plus years old in an emergency room
looking at pictures
of  10% heart function
fuzzy, grainy, distorted,
and true…
major life changes ensue
through with smoking and eating garbage
afraid of road rage
and defibrillation
sitting in a basement
thinking about my cannabis oil
and a November trip to Colorado. –

phone calls to friends expressing a new version
telling the youth the lifestyle isn’t always the way
living fast and dying young
doesn’t always work
rarely leaves a pretty corpse
and won’t make you any more of a badass….
to live one’s life to the fullest
each and every day
with no consideration for the outcome
sometimes has you looking at pictures
of healthy lungs
plaque free arteries
a clean liver
and only 10% heart function –

Images I have never seen
waltz through my mind
slowly turning and moving to and fro
one, two, three
one, two, three
the rhythm matching the unevenness
of his most important muscle
I sit quietly on the edge of my bed
thinking over a lifetime and my best dear friend
I hope we make it to November. –

Standing on the precipice of an abyss
Blues and greens swirl and fade to black
Plummeting depths swallow and compress
In the distance an isolated pillar
Coated against the extremities
Stone faced and granite
Statuesque and alone –
Beneath lies the seething current
Life’s blood flows
Ebbing with the moon
Tidal and subject
Whims the only direction
With eruption as the single verifiable outcome
Only cold winds blow there now –
Aching for lost relations
Scattered family covering the west
Each with deep memories
Recessed and withdrawn
Vast cavernous systems
Delve into the very foundations
Broken dreams of reunion
Erode in the harsh and unforgiving weather –

I sat on the edge of my bed seeking wisdom
but I had lost any semblance of faith
this was my only truth
I was of a lost generation
one devoid of hope and light
behind me flowed a lazy river

I placed my hand onto a book of faith
praying it would grant me wisdom
reaching over I turned on the light
and listened to the running river
thinking about the failings of my generation
and if any of us new the truth

what will become of my generation
are we blind to the light…
too apathetic for the truth…
too hip to recognize wisdom
once again my attention was drawn to the river
one of the few things in which I had faith

I closed my eyes trying to remember the truth
or if I had ever known wisdom
were there any in my generation
able to truly hold onto faith
shimmering sunlight danced across the ripples of the river
and I shut off the light

soothed by the peaceful sounds of the river
a calmness wrapped my body in warm light
a knowing came over me for the next generation
cosmic radiation was bringing humanity a new wisdom
dawn was breaking and with it a new truth
within ourselves was the only key to faith

this feeling passed with the fading light
but within me stayed this truth
maybe I was the voice of my generation
the purveyor of a brand new wisdom
the one to impart hope and faith
on the masses of humanity flowing like a river

the wisdom of humanity is tainted by faith
the truth changes with each new generation
we are all sparking light dancing across the cosmic river

stepping into a whole new light
fist fight upright
she outta site and feeling alright
can’t stay tight
spotlight on the ignite
bic flicks tipping the scene
its that stinky green
makin’ muthafukkers obscene
but not me
chill to the scope
I cope on dope
roping honeys with wit and class
passing trash
looking through the glass
mass media flash
*****, I make all the cash
share it with my partners
stash it in the pick-up truck
dumb luck makes those monkeys stuck
playing that same ole game, ****
trying to hustle the buck
******* the muck
too dumb to duck
two to the socket check the pockets
hit the rocket one more time
get that mind right
got it locked down
pistol cocked, dogs drown
***** docked on my ****
slurping sound
surrounded, lights flash
cheese slice
trying to take the party down
rollin dice
wearing ice
that rat will suffice
twice
libido out of hand
****** gave me lice
but not my head
happened in the bed
room, *****

frankly the frankincense is funky
and the sweet jasmine burns my nostrils
jamaican vanilla is ungodly overpowering
and the desert sage smells like an ***
mountain violet makes me violently ill
and aspen rose blows
give me a stick of Nag Champa any day –
green tea and cinnamon don’t have any weight
while sunset on the lilly is far too heavy
my mind can’t reconcile mint
and fruity candy flavors are for children of yuppies
I can’t stand being inundated with gardenias
and I don’t even eat fresh baked bread,
no, just give me a stick of Nag Champa –
moonlight in Senora is not a smell
morning dew on the Rockies is faint at best
I am pretty sure patchouli is **** water and cat ***
amber is petrified tree sap
and who wants to sniff dragon’s blood
nah, just give me a stick of Nag Champa –
I knew an egyptian once, and his musk stunk
and voodoo is a cultish religion
harmony should not even be on a shelf
lavender citronella might slow mosquitos,
but should we be breathing in pesticides?
I will never go ‘round a mulberry bush
and my history with ****** keeps me from trying
an ***** scent…
I would rather a nice stick of Nag Chanmpa
anytime –

crusty ring, sore and discolored
leaking
bacteria ridden slip’n’slide
swimming on dry land
spasms contort cavities
gravity dragging spirits
sinking in the murky quicksand
spinning
fictional premises flood the frontal lobe
“Am I dying?”
“Can a head cold **** me?”
“Will the Knicks be better with Jackson?”
delirium from desperation
if only to breathe through a nostril ……..

disappointment lingers
thick air, stagnate and unfiltered
looming like impending doom
enough humidity to grow fungi
dampness spreads altering the color scheme
as infringed pits flow with shame
and guilty eyes dart
from the lamp
to the stapler
the most terrifying desk ever crafted