the world is just starting to seem real
clay in a firmer state
studier but harder to mold
and i am still trying to shape it in my hands
without getting it under my nails
... something,

something under my nails
clambering for something to hold onto
anxiety racing, scratching, life catching up to me
why am i bleeding
why am i bleeding
this is supposed to be freeing
i guess i just
pick one of these lines
deeply clawed into my skin
paths like addict,
wash up,
footstool;
lives carefully planned for me since birth

i played trumpet in junior high
so that must mean i'll be a paralegal like my mama
regretting my love choices
regretting my life choices
wasting away at a job i hate
doing work i don't get credit for
destined to fade away lonely

but then again i've got my dad's bad habits
and twice his screaming spirit
so maybe i'll spend half my life in a bottle
and the other half trying to chase the dreams that i ****** away in my twenties

maybe i'll run all over creation
trying to be something bigger
someone stronger

yeah
that sounds about right

As the sun blaze afloat,
She had accepted its heat, though not seeing the light,
While others had burned bright with the light,
She had perceived only the dark,
Even with her everyday quest,
Her memoir of struggling conquest,
She had conceived only the darkness
Though with her increased of enrichment
She had felt bewildered in all this blanket of nights,
Oh, she'd pray for a rest,
A port written of bless,
But as Daniel, they've withhold,
Her likes, they cry under the greed,
Option less, but the wait or the creed,
The choice to live according to decreed,
Or bend to their marks of greed,
But for her tis a no,
They ought to know,
Fate gonna reach their doors,
The happiness of the dew,
Had been known only to the few,
Enough! is enough
But remembered clockwise,
It said let there be light,
And there was a light for all,
Hers is just a nightfall,
Soon! The sun gonna greet her good morning,
And the moon will bid you good night,
So keep sermonizing the lies,
Be the greed with the dice,
Or the person you so portrayed,
She pray mercy upon your soul,
To gain a world and loose a soul,
Oh, she'd laughed you poor,
For not all road leads to happy endings,
Some lead to a dead end.

comes a time you have lived a yes life
and with a simple no
leave it all behind

there is still jalapeno under my nails,
                                                            i know because i bite them.


i feel microcosmic
i feel macrocosmic
i feel that the night i knew you were > all the deadend wannabe artists with groomed hair and a knack for saying the wrong things at the right times

the moon was full as a curvy woman's hips
and i sleeplessly felt its caress through the sky the roof my heart
it carried me pieces of you
and they fit

people ask me if i'm madly in love with a smirk
people ask me what happens when it goes wrong
first loves die hard, they say
i don't know what happened to make everyone assume that
love is destined to be a ship lost at sea

my mom raised me to be tenacious
and darling,
                              you know it's true

plot out distances between freckles
and count the amount of hairs;
in a beauteous analysis
a cold witnessing
of)a featured lifeless gaze
projected onto windows
refracted in time with the pounding
from lost soulless ghouls
in a dank puddled basement
as we stare through keyholes

the length of life waits to rescind
to wash up on the shoreline
anew, once refreshed
with Angina on

wading in cyclic waves
in deposits of reveries
stale orangeade sonatas
and dull area tirades


the purpose
economized

every axiom
americanized

and as your atoms become depersonalized
tension is materialized, in ornate ivory
shattered brass instruments rusted by
novels written to god
in a
fractured light
and range

cramped in a curtailed distance
a brickwall deadend universe
gnashing with frustration
****** yawns of futility

closed viaducts
and vacant lots
deafened eyes, grey
glimmering in retort
to their own expression


blind sight was squandered by the snapback, of all the
strings of the orchestra as they were simultaneously snipped
by sharp prying eyes, listening to the mixing of paint
to smell the music, its arms limp, vivid
wishing to pull you back (in hindsight)
with dreaded, deadened incantations
a dithyrambic liturgy to the drunken thoughtless night
of slurred litanies and unappeasable, irascible deities
lonely and immaculate, all-powerless and deft
in irksome quarrels and arguments
glossed over by the fine print of another
exalting the vainglorious self-inscribed paragons
and revelling every inadmissible mistake

gazing past to a solo star
dumbstruck and dead
from an evaluation
and dehydration

dying to know
forget it.

Complicated is an understatement
Nonexistent is simply too harsh

If it never existed how can you crave it
If it never walked up to and acknowledged you presence
                                                                                       how can you greet it
A complicated nonexistent envy of love

They say: we, humans, were born for reasons
then blinded for a reason was I?
or, muted for a reason was I?
intricately, not to see the beauty of the world's wonder
not to sing the melody of sweet rhythmic dulcet,
yet precious, perfect unique design
they call I am, God's special one.
I can't see I am, still
I can't say I am thus, still
I can't completely sense I am.
I move, yes, with freedom, a figment, though
yet imprisoned in an eggshell, my deadend
grave I had never.

could see the shadow from the corner of my eye
see them standing waiting by
could feel their presence wanting me
see there coldness needing me

could feel their looks just staring out
see their blood all red and loud
could feel their noise all over me
see their touch out grabbing me

from the corner of my eye i waited standing by
a shudder from way down low
a feeling time to go
a breath not taken yet from the smell of deadend flesh

as i blinked i gave a cry
a feeling deep inside
a time to look away
from the corner of my eye

Ego was the monster that drove you from my arms or was it just another's charm.
It wasnt poetic simply one lights fade to yet another act in a much to dim lit sidewalk's scene.
If you go I wont care so many bitter words stand are refuge of pain togather we shared
it if only for a moment.

Maybe it was a nightmare made possible from a dream.
Maybe it was nothing more than a glimpse at what was never to be.
I closed that door now it seems a shame to view these scars yet once again.

Please dont ever let me leave you.
I recall  you asked one of to many fargone nights embrace
I lie to say i could never recall.

Why did it seem like promises were empty as broken hearts games of the grown remain
evergreens of childs play.
Alone I allow you to invade my thoughts one last time.

Sunset from the shore always seemed empty just like are time togather.
Why must you haunt me still.
Watercolors fade still I recall that embrace.

Farewell my friend.

Pain is a burden to you no more.


Sometimes a turned shoulder  is all thats left of a deadend street.

This is a long one Ladies and Gents, so strap in!

IF you asked what the biggest evils are in this world,
any rational man,woman boy or girl,
would answer its things that bring us too much harm,
talkin bout Alcohol,Tobacco and - Firearms
forget about illegal drugs and mafia clans,
its time to focus in on the Government plans,
to cause mass confusion in the minds of the sheep,
keep us all in our pens,disoriented and weak,
only a danger to ourselves in this struggle of life,
its the subtlest cut from the surgeons knife,
that emasculates us wholesale,money for blood,
three opponents to the death in the war for good,
run by corporations with no frontiers,
profiteering on your misery,they're milking our tears,
legal taxable killers that shorten your life,
and not just YOUR life man,your children and wife,
and leave you with no fight in you to cause some strife,
for our overlords and rulers,in the neverending fight,
to bring truth to the truthless and sight to the blind,
its a high stakes gamble and the stake is your mind,
but the tables rigged,and the dealers a shark,
whos only happy when you're ignorant and kept in the dark
and fed **** like fungi,think you're fun guy?
cos when your dumb fat and happy then its easy to die,
24without reaching any truth,time to read between the lines-
and learn the truth about these ****** end times.

Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms

1.8 million people a year,
go straight from here to the valley of tears,
with the help of a bottle,its our friend alcohol!,
its a double hit,taking both your money and soul,
its like Futurama having suicide booths,
just have a few beers man,your troubles to soothe...
while it gnaws at your insides a rat in a cage,
like 1984 and the worlds a stage,
well its more like a circus,and guess who's the clown?
its a never ending pratfall like "falling down",
how many mornings can you wake up feeling like ****?
before we ALL decide that its time to quit,
and how come science hasnt found a way?
to render it less harmful in these amazing days?
simple,cause its perfect. - *Its doing its job
keeping billions of people in deadend jobs,
leaving social meetings with a dark undercurrent,
just look at any News Source,stories stay current,
about the constant madness and daily strife,
another drunken encounter that ends in lost lives,
and more zombies walking on our city streets,
looking for a confrontation,just someone to beat,
in 20% of interventions by Cops
the trouble would stop,if the bottle was dropped
so take the beer goggles off and start taking names,
of the companies we need to name and shame

cough,cough cough,its the daily song,
its the people nailing down their coffin too long
cigarettes cause cancer...and there I should stop
(sample penny dropping)
to let the penny drop...
in the first few seconds that this verse just took...
another poor dumb smoker just ran out of luck,
its an incredible figure for our global deaths,
that are pure homicides,people stealing your breath,
its like paying a murderer to stab you in the chest
when it comes to mindfucks man smoking's the best,
while tobacco company lobbyists still write checques,
their customers are choking in a haze of death,
govt. warning's man the ***** too late,
while you're staring at the package your eventual fate,
is slapping your eyeballs with a message of doom,
but you're still a ****** Addict and the profits just zoom,
the glory days of the deathgame until 94,
tobacco company tales for many years before,
using bogus science for a tissue of lies,
never giving two cents for the people who died,
testified to the senate man the God ****** Nerve!
when they die I think their souls will take a downward curve,
to an everlasting hell,their own sweet special doom,
to be greeted by a sign, welcome to the smoking room.
so drop the ash and stop dropping cash,
and start saving your life for a better re-hash

I've saved the best for last,you might be surprised,
when you hear me breaking down another tissue of lies,
you see guns don't **** people people do
disagree if you like,its still a universal truth,
you see to me a gun is only a tool,
it all depends on whether it is in the hands of a fool,
and guns save lives too another headfuck,
they also take them too in the hands of the rough,
I'm not thinking bout the crack dealer packing a glock,
I'm thinking of the group that sold him the lot
running drugs AND guns its the CIA!
all protected by the might of the USA!
dont believe me? just google it,its easy to find,
although the facts may not sit well in your mind,
its funny,maybe they should have used ray-guns?
then their actor president would have given MORE funds,
to the contra rary of the public story,
while the truth at the bottom is much more gory,
but its back to the future now the latest plans,
acted out in the future in a global land,
and its only the start of the endgame plan,
to take away the tools from the everyday man,
**so he cant cause trouble its machiavellian,
cos their plans for the future are so Orwellian

There are days when the rage I prayed to dissipate somehow finds its way from the deep secluded corners of my brain and throws itself violently onto the blank pages of my notebook.

It's always on those days when I hear the Oceanside call my name but I refrain from seeing her because I am far too occupied with chipping myself away at this deadend job that doesn't provide the way that I need it to pay.

It's always on the days when I can't reach her shore that I ***** myself to this imitation of peace. To all the things I want but know it will never satisfy the need to feel that cool ocean breeze, the smell of seaweed and that saltwater against my feet.

There is no place in the valley for a boy who fell in love with the ocean and left his heart at sea.

Like can't you see that the only time I feel whole is when all the broken pieces that make up me is standing on that cliffside. Apart from filling out my blank pages and pouring my heart out onto these stages, that cliffside will always be home.

There is not a day that I'm away that I don't sit and think about the power of the waves. Do you ever think about the power of the waves? How they come in, crash and carry all of my burdens, pain and frustration away. God I just want to get away.

I will always sit up on that cliffside in a mystery as I gaze out upon your vast deep blue see and wonder how in the midst of my chaos, that you are somehow my peace.