hey guys, for those of you that don't know me or know my poetry on this website, I present to you my poetry YouTube and it's pure spoken word, and I wanted to see if you wanted to show some support, so if you have the time it would be a much appreciated gesture if you subscribe to my channel and like my videos ! thank you

I love the scratch and sniff.
I love the body whiff.
I love the ****** and smash.
I love the mind crash.

Such a sweet and salty face.
What a beautiful place.
Single wide, double or?
What future sits in store?

None for me?
None for you?
Look at us.
Look at you.

Apache beard.
A. Patch. iieh.
Nn, so desu ne.
Butter bean.

Cream white dream.
But sorta pink.

Watching videos

I see shadows of people –


Is it Plato's cave?

Late at night I would watch and watch.
A smile was usually plain to see across my face.
Not every joke would land, nor every video a hit.
But no matter what I would always watch.
Today I leaned of your horrible ways.
All of the terrible things you had done, day after day.
I know it hurt those who knew you best, but it also hurt me deep in my chest.
I lost a hero, though we never met.
Gone are the late nights, gone are those pleasant thoughts.
But I still will live with joy and smiles, but for now I will walk on.
Away from your videos, now turned vile

Tonight I’m in no mood for dancing,
The man in the office,
You know the one,
He’s got a nice tie,
He tells you who you’re gonna be,
In the name of education.
He sat me down,
Looked me in the eye and told me,
There’s nothing here for you,
Sorry son,
You’ve gotta go join a rock n’roll band.
Well that’s what I heard anyway.

Let me tell you this,
Circles don’t fit squares.
Ram a circle into a square if you dare,
You’ll have to make that square so large,
That it takes my soul with it,
Only then might you get me,
But it’ll never be a perfect fit,
Just smothered and suffocated.

The internal beast of truth,
Will never tolerate perceived normality,
It’s only instinct is to rebel,
Insanity is preferable,
Instability a comfort,
There is no reasoning,
Drown in your own angry rebellion,
Sink to the bottom with a smile.

Did you know they can forget us?
Tell us who’s worth it,
Who to listen to,
Who to respect,
Without a window into their being,
Instead you’re told who they are,
And what they represent.
Did you know you could be forgotten?
There’s no loyalty out here,
Your legacy in the hands of others,
Your worth in the balance of an agenda,
So what are you gonna do about it?
Fade into history?
Become a distant memory?
What you’ve gotta do,
Is represent something so loud and true,
That when the herd comes to trample and step down on you,
Those who connect to your cause,
Have no choice but to step up.

Come on and get heard,
We’re not finished here yet,
Come on make the message louder,
I want to hear it,
Louder,
Let me listen,
We gotta get heard,
We gotta get this message out there somehow,
Maybe we’ve gotta take it straight to the people,
Let them hear it,
Louder,
Give them a chance for change,
Pleasure the beast of truth,
Aggravate normality,
Destroy perceptions,
Let’s go!

Now come on,
Why don’t you tell me,
Tell me how it’s gonna be,
Come on,
Just tell me.
Tell me what I’m gonna like,
Who I’m gonna be,
Where I’m gonna go,
Just tell me.
I’m standing here,
Why don’t you just tell me,
Tell me how it’s gonna be.
Tell me how to dress,
How to laugh,
How to love,
Why don’t you just come on over here and tell me,
Tell me how it’s gonna be,
I’m still waiting,
I’m still sinking.

Zach Ascot

I hate to interrupt the show but something terrible has happened.
The creator we have come to know is missing.
Only the worst can be presumed,
A young man doomed.
What caused this?
Why dismiss creative bliss?
Please turn back,
Otherwise goodbye Zach.

The missing creator now wonders,
With freedom on his mind,
Longs for an audience so kind,
Where art exists purely,
Leaving the mainstream behind.

New roads unravel,
Still with no guide,
A blank expanse and meaningless horizon,
Where will my answers reside?

I walk the road right,
I walk the road left,
Trying to separate from all the rest,
Strange roads bring out my best.

Free from a parasitic load,
Letting the past implode,
All that remains is to follow this road.
Mirages flicker showing what could be,
What does this path have in store for me?

The artist you were born soon did not stay,
This is not the reason why you came this way.
An imposter within you must die,
A system you must defy,
Where algorithms decide your worth,
Trends are consumed neglecting the expressive,
False artistry is the true depressive.

But this is what you’ve always wanted right?
A place of rhythmic structure,
Disposable by nature,
Whatever was there to fight?
There’s freedom laid out in front of you,
No longer in artistic debt,
The haunted emptiness now upon us,
A painful path to follow.

The roads we take decide our fate,
But journeys soon get forgotten.
This is not the death of a creator.
This is the birth of an artist.

Zach Ascot

He came over...
We spoke...
One of the few
Blasts from my past
Red wine
Poured out in a glass
In substitution
Of how I poured
My heart out
To potential
Which did not last...
At last...
We spoke.
And what I thought
For a split second
Could be some kind of
Re-ignition to my fine
Cashmere woods scented
Candle wax...
Instead became an unsteady flame
Over a firmly molded
Candle frame
Of a woman...
Who has had enough.
We spoke...
About what he saw as a memory
I saw as trauma
And there was no more tears
To be cried
Over his baby mama drama
And that his words
Fell on deaf ears
When he said he can lend an ear
Because a promise is that to a fool
And a fool...
I no longer bared...
I am in love...
And although that love
Had not come alive
And although that love
Is what I will seek
Till the day I die...
And that love is the only love
Worth years of tear drops
From my eyes...
I am in love...
We spoke...
I never meant to end up so cold
I never meant to make your ego
Feel like a joke
I didn’t even mean
To invite you to my home...
But at last...
We spoke
No longer my Prince Charming
This princess was now
Anointed as Queen
And this Queen awaits a true King
And it takes more than a hug
And a kiss on the cheek
To make me weak
It takes more than
You telling me of my beauty
Which took me your absence to seek
... your assurance my darling...
I **** sure don’t need...
I am in love...
With a man
Whose actions
Speak louder than his words
Who pushed me
Through my darkness
Who struck chords of movement
Who got me to love...
And actually mean it...
Who saw my poems...
AND ACTUALLY READS IT....
We spoke...
And in that moment
I realized...
I don’t need a title...
I just need to exist.
Don’t say it...
Feel it...
We have spoken. .