Fan letters filled with hawk feathers.
Sticking them in paper like
Razor blades into wrists.
Drawing life from the abyss;
Weatherman predicts clouds
And rain.

Gray and
Grains in the camera; Dharma, I
And Karma took the photo
Of the millennia. Deep in the Congo
Jungle, we stumbled  across a tribal
Ensemble praising Pluto.

Smoke rising from the tribunal pyre.
Through the moonlight you could see the
Galaxy swirling with each gust.

Their lack of attire made their skin shine
Brilliantly in the dark reflections of the fire.
The sweat. The song. The symmetry. The immensity
Of it all was entrancing. We dived into the celebration of
Existence  with little regard of our path.
It was a step forward we'll never take back.

Looking at her in the rear-view
mirror; the hero never looks back
at the explosion; the destruction
of ***** because, honestly, everyone
wants to ***** and ***** and *****.

Her edifice crumbled to the ground
like so many great empires. She thought
her romance was Rome; I put roam in romance
and like Nero, I played music while her cities
burned.

Spitting up the mucus lining
the back of my throat
binding my gag reflex
to every breath.

I hope I don't choke.

Stomach lining
forcing it's way up
and out my throat.
Sliding it's way back down
into my lungs.
Coughing and burning
my air ways. The pain is profound.

It looked like cold bbq sauce at first
but as the forced
contractions became less dispersed
Every thing became more clear.
Whiskey had put me here...

*It didn't hold you down and make you drink it.

He's five years older than me.
He stepped up and became a man
when our father didn't want to be.
When mom was too high and drunk to see
and I was too young to make money
realistically, he
was in the street
making sure we all could eat.

It's a bad place to be at 14.
A brother too young to chase his dreams.
A mother so focused on pleasure,
she doesn't understand the effects of her schemes.

He just wants to escape the Stockton scene
where gunshots ring out like wet towels.
People shouting out sets like wolf howls.
Where the sword is mightier than the pen
and defending yourself just puts you in the pen.
Somehow this boy became three men.
One for me, a man to this day I mirror to be.
One for my father, showing him how to be a daddy.
One for himself because a real man lets nobody determine his wealth.

I have the utmost respect for my brother.
We're not friends on Facebook, Twitter or Tumblr.
We know, without saying, what we mean to each other.
Any day I could call him and ask for a favor.
We can have a whole conversation without the need to speak.
He's even the reason why I'm such a geek.
Nobody can be more of a man than my brother, Dominique.

A ghost use to be something I was.
I'd pop up, do some crazy stuff
and disappear, just because.

Even though my interactions were brief,
I changed the lives of the people I encountered.
Due to this, my disappearances caused much grief.

I've turned that nasty habit into something constructive.
A series of poems, the contents uncorrelated.
Still, the theme is reproductive.

They are all random thoughts and incomplete theories
A complex ball of conflicting emotions.
I'm talking, of course about my "Ghost" series!

Infatuated
with a woman I won't meet.
She took her own life.

Catapulted into a torrent.
Flung and spun
in an abhorrent pun

A flow of disease
oozes like melted ice-cream
over me in a breeze on a high beam.

It's disgusting
how you can sit with a smirk
and watch me combusting and ****.

Needless to say,
I just laughed at how karma cascades
cause the person you left me for that day gave you Aids.

She rubs my back and
tummy when I am feeling
grumpy and upset

Picked up a little spark
out the corner of my shut eyelid.

Such a weird emission in this charcoal dark.
It began a faint glow.
Slightly brighter than the black
above, beside and below.
Then the glow became a hum
of violet and gradually grew
into a blue.

That color, so serene,
became a green  and its vibrations
were quite intense. Just like in the earth
out of the green, with a little help from it's blue fellow,
sprouted a most glorious shade of yellow!

I became intoxicated by this colorful spectrum,
drinking deeply of each color as if on some
florescent binge. When I had my my fill of this bouquet
out sprouted the orange and red.

They all danced in a kaleidoscopic
shuffle, shifting about like lovers
in a masquerade ball.
They would collide and waltz
twirl about each other with excellent grace
and then, in search of their original partner,
separate. Once the couples were reunited,
they took flight from my eyelids and slowly
but surely, in a most marvelous display,
everything returned to black as the colors faded away.

All I know is what other people describe.
Butterflies in your tummy.
Sunshine on a cloudy day
But I... oh I...
I think differently than
picturesque realities.
It must be. It has to, you see.
For I, you, me, we, us and this
is merely a physical expression
of our emotional bliss.
So when I say love, I don't think of doves
or an end-of-the-date kiss.
I think of the times when your away
and I have no way to say
or express my distress
other than multiple texts
saying "hey" and smiley faces
I sprinkle throughout your day.

Round little orbs roll
across the sidewalk, crashing
into another

As I climb each step
slowly, I'm getting higher.
Transcendentally.

She made breakfast
of sausage, toast and eggs,
sunny-side up.
With a smile that reflected
my shattered perception,
I scarfed the food down.
It was a pitiful apology.
The toast was burnt;
the sausage cold and
the eggs were runny.
It was a meal put together
by someone that knew
they could do no wrong.
I ate every crumb in a false show of good faith.
You see, breakfast comes every morning
with or without our participation.
The tears on my heart, however,
are only made with her designation

A little slice of the pie
I try to consume but I
throw it up every time.

Bulimic the scenic
route I take.
No mistake I meant to regurgitate.
Choking down lies, smiling like it taste great.
Get another helping of the American pie plate.

Washed down
with whiskey, strong and brown
like the strong and brown brothers
that scalped heads and used skins for covers.

Good morning, America!
Ignore the hysteria.
Pay attention to the sensations
on the surface area

Cap'n crunch
is more important Captains getting crunched
in a 13 year war we started off a hunch.

If you pay attention to the news
notice they ignore the trues

like the flammable water coming from your hose
or the fact you can't afford your children's clothes

We're buying apps and devices for $1200,maybe,
instead of $20 to buy a real ukelele

You see, we pay companies
to do things
because we're conditioned to be
to lazy when DIY was the real American dream.

Name: Finn The Human
Age: 17
Date of Birth: Unknown
Residence: Tree House, Grass Kingdom. Land of Ooo
Known Relatives: Jake The Dog.(Brother) Stormo (Son)

Finn The Human was a beloved Hero in the land of Ooo. Saved Ooo and the universe several times from the evils that happen in our crazy magical world. Loved and adored by All that live in the land of Ooo ( except the stupid globbingl Lich King) He will be dearly missed. A statue will be raised in his honor tomorrow in the center of the Candy Kingdom. Princess Bubblegum, Flame Princess, Lumpy Space Princess, Jake The Dog, Cinnamon Bun, the Ice King and Gunter will be speaking at his funeral expressing their sorrow. Feels all around to those whom loved him. Finn was all of our hero and will be dearly missed.

Here's the thing about this place...
I'm glad you love it. It is a great home.
but its history is unknown by those whom like the face.

There have been a number of occurrences that are... abnormal.
Those who live within these walls experience a change.
This place was the site of some strange rituals.

In the basement is an odd device
That grants the user the power of immortality
For an even stranger price of venality

what does that even mean?

Basically, you have to put yourself in life threatening danger
every month in order to retain that skill.
Stranger, your fear of death and you life will never distill.

**Would you take that deal?

A man came to my door late last night.
It was about 8pm if my guessing is right
He seemed shaken and overcome with fright
He stuttered and stammered as I turned on the porch light

Timothy he said
Timothy he begged
Please listen to me he pled
I must save you his tongue shed

Flabbergasted at the sight,
my thoughts abstracted despite
his quadratic explanation of my plight.
We connected like an arc light.

Hold on I demanded
Wait a second I commanded
He could tell by my look I was stranded
in the immensity of the situation so he spoke candid


*So your here to save my life? What do I say to something like that?

Allow me to project my insides
Beside your ear.
Certainly you can
Determine how the
Emptiness within my body
Forgoes the exuberance
Gathered on the surface.
Haphazardly phrased fragments
I speak
Just to be heard, even faintly.
Knowing my words
Level worlds,
Monopolize hearts,
Negate negativity,
Omitted from the explicit.
Perfectly formed fractures
Qualm me as they
Reverberate through my body
Slithering their way
Through Timothy's
Universe.
Viciously assaulting
Where they fit best.
Xenobiotic and almost parasitic
Yarns about a
Zealous life not yet lived

64 squares and 32 pieces
white and black or black and white
pending your thesis
whether your black or white
they all have the same features

8 pawns, simple creatures
8 x 2 is 16
infantry disguised as peasants
trying to get above the 7th
to the 8th and replace
their meager form for something more severe

2 rooks, sitting on the edge
2 crooks robbing everything perpendicular
to the perimeter provided the king
doesn't falter in his pledge


When the night rolls through,
the knights roll through.
Puffing green goo, these squares or cubes
will move an L make a 7 and ***** you.

The bishop will say a blessing
as he stumbles across the board.
Moving forward diagonally,
these drunken priests drink towards
a leader hung with dressings

The queen? That greedy broad
thinks everyone is a pawn.
constantly placing her place
in the face of those trying to take her place.

The king orchestrates the beat
carefully placing his feet before god.
His feat is living, no great givings,
giving up the wrong square will make his crown your treat

Move like water,
for water flows at a steady pace
determined by it's physical state.

Ice is slow and unrelenting.
The colder it is, the more it stings
like a Tesla coil spring.
It become electrifying and burning to the touch.

Liquid is the smoothest.
It is life's essence.
Wether swirling with the wrath of a hurricane or sitting stagnant
It can never be cut or formed into fragments.
When divided it will always return to the lowest place to evaporate.

Gas is the hot head of the three
or I should say exciting to the point of steaming
you can't touch it but you can feel it heating
up the surface, pushing everything that gets too close away.

The best thing about all these states,
is that they are neither aggressive nor defensive
They move at their own pace
Interact with them incorrectly  and they will show your place.

Move like water,
for water flows at a steady pace
determined by it's physical state.

Every door in this place creaks,
shattering the silence of the empty echoing
of faucet leaks.

Drips are part of the  company I keep.
Along with drops, smoke trails and static details.
Fuzzy sounds penetrate the hell I face while asleep.

Dead skin soup
marination for the soul.
The longer it soaks, the more the skin droops.
More flavor for the porcelain bowl.
Seasoned with scrubs,  wash, and shampoo in the stoup.
Scrub hard, rise hot and watch the tainted drain down a black hole.

More smoke than air in lungs if your a buyer.

More fire than water in blood if your a writer!

 It's 4am, settle down, your not tired?

All that caffeine will shorten the time before you expire!

                                                                                                                When the sun is up , I'm in my bed.

                                                                                                         When the moon is up, I'm out my head.

                                                                                                        Cabinets open, take the tie off the bread.

                                                                                                  Twisted close, my nickname's ***** thread.

Cans over here. Cans over there.

Can you get out your recycled chair?

Spinning around, rolling eye glare.

Perched on a throne in a 4 walled lair.

                                                                                                  Coordination of letters into a poetic diction.

                                                                                                      Separate each word like fact from fiction.

                                                                                                           Space things out; "and" "or" transition.

                                                                                                Correlate the points for a literary  prediction.

She came to my door, tears streaming down her face.
In her blabbering, she only spoke six words clearly,
"I don't belong in this place"

As I led her inside
I noticed the blood streaming down her wrist
I cut my sentence short and replied

Silence and ice cream
Same thing I got when I tried to hang out.
At the bottom of the bowl I saw her face gleam.

We hadn't spoke since she spat "******"
As our connection  leaked into the air,
I whispered "murderer"

As she lay leaking through band-aids and bandages
The red made me think of love
and how the feeling of hate has it's balances

Bottled up like salad dressing.
Top on, sticky side down.
Put a little pressure on the pressing.
Call it depressing when you take the finger from the noun.
Wrap it around
in a figure eight turn.
Discern or nerves will churn.
Pain is the name of the burn
sensation.
Loosen it at the day's cessation
and keep it on for the duration.
The continuation of blood circulation
is key to the prevention of amputation.
Whether physically or metaphorically,
keeping an injury wrapped in a challis
is the best thing to keep a healthy tally.

It's a three pronged hum-a-long.
No captions while you sing-a-long.
Mumbling, stumbling
over words that don't belong
in your mouth.

I'll love you ten times longer than you'll love me

Rippling outward till the waves stop.
Dropped from a 5ft 10" skyscraper with a plop.

Perfect circles in precession,
stretching into regression
The placidity is eerie
as it returns with no sign of it's companion

The next one cast did a flip flop
across the liquid table top.

Those ripples again.
As if this lake had a brain,
it feigns space to detain
the stone and share knowledge arcane.  

The last one I decided to swap
I traded the lake's ripples for ones in my pocket.

Its a reason to return to the lake
The reason behind the pebble's wake
Scientifically, I know the make.
How is done, now why is at the stake.
,

Spinning on the north pole.
Truth be told, it's being pulled
in all directions thus the spinning inflection.
A prosaic misdirection.

4 cardinal directions but when they conflate
you get eight.  If you prorate
in-between you get sixteen
directions you can take.

The only mistake you can choose is standing in place.
At the pace your face is rotating on your flesh case,
your bones will displace. your mind will efface
from it's designated space.


Don't be a waste. Move along.
Pick one of the 16 directions you can take
Whichever one you pick is the road you belong.
Just get to where your going before your swan song.

In my absence
My mind has been doing back-flips,
back-spins and hand-springs.

They really should be called head-springs.'

Off a spring board I began vaulting.
Trying to spin, tumble, turn des pairs
of thoughts stuck in the landing area

Threw a little french in there for ya.

Grasping at hysteria asymmetrically with sanity
must be stronger than anxiety. Like a glass coat, it blankets me
however you can see to the core, translucent rings of a tree.

Walking the balance beam
between life and suicide sporadically.
Being pushed on both sides by a jet stream

Surviving is a pipe dream because we are all dying.

Once again I am on the floor. However,
I am implored to look forward by poetic neighbors.
All I gotta do is knock on their door and they'll gladly give me a cup of esprit de corps.

*More french, Au revoir

There's something about walking into an empty house
that puts my mind at peace.
Instead of a spouse,
there is a fan flowing on 1,2,3 beats.
Oscillating, turn-tabling,
air stagnant like frozen meat.
Simile.
smile,
Haha...it's supposed to be funny.
It was yummy 'till he
started Ralphing over the balcony.
But, his name is Anthony

I don't care.
He can't fall asleep here and
he won't be driving.
The music is cacophony
Turn the music down for the homie!

The silence is so sweet.
Stumbling into the back car seat.
Oh ef Wolf Ge
Stop lights switch with the beat. Obsolete
keys scratch the lock; He's in the hot seat
Walking a few blocks to his homecoming.

Everything I say can never be unique
Its all recycled and up-cycled from spit on the street.
Next to the pavement,
underneath
the asphalt,: black, ******, bleak

When I speak
There is nothing new to say.
Combined in a verse or tense
past or present
prosed in a way
obscure to rational thought. Cursed.
It's worse than worsening.

Suessing,
Sprucing up words
that were
left right
on the curb.
Busted,
Rusted
in god's stead, they trusted
dollars and bills.
Dollar bills
encrusted with lies

Idol-I-
zation.
Idol-me-nation.
Idolatry gives life
to puppets. It's really a Toy Story.

Love*:
laying bricks in a line
or a least a lie with N
monotony. Standing in line, at the end,
until the begin

*NEXT!

...ing.
Pretending, that was doing something.
Like a verb, perturbing, unsettling.
Cold air is causing nerve ending
stand

NEXT!

...up. Back of the neck rub
Trapped like a spider in a covered tub.
Seems wide till the world opens wide and there's a snub
from the passing yacht club as it crashes into the hub.
Now aren't you glad you got grub instead of a ticket

NEXT!

...stub? Chop and bop.
Hop on the bed, called Dr. Suess' pop.
Lets swap places. Straighten the tie, I am a flop
fop. Harvesting their crop of heads. Onomatopoeia plop

*NEXT

Heard sirens

Saw lights

Another body for California St.

Another day in Stockton.

Wait

I know him.

Them too

Hey, who died?

Tagging in the street

R.I.P T.M.F.B

Wait

...That's me...

No, it can't be
I just came from down the street
from the burrito truck
I had to get something to eat.
No onions . mild sauce, carne asada
Don't forget the limes, $4.25? sweet
I turned around and hit the beat
Just grey sweaters, blue jeans
and vans, not sneaks.
Occasionally tye-dye
if I'm feeling unique.
greeting this day I say
this is pretty neat
The train went by and bird are going
tweet tweet
This sauce is still hot but my sweater
keeps off the 84 degree heat
cause i'm sweating and cooling
These shoes look cool against the concrete
Hearing music slapping
I think it's E-40
Smoke rolling from the windows
An arm reaches out the backseat
**BANG

12
6+6
7+5
8+4
9+3
10+2
11+1
12

Seems simple enough.
Reality was like a *****
film. Beaten and touched
by the sins of a woman corrupt.

Too poor to play.
Mom was getting high,
so I joined a play
to stay away
from the fists and verbal abuse of the day.
No lunch money.
Mom was getting high,
So I left for school at 6 A
M. Yes Ma'am, I was dropped off I would lie
everyday.
No, Sir, It's ok I already ate" I would lie
everyday
Tim, wanna come over and play?
*No I have to go home and get slapped and and screamed at when my mom isn't screaming some strange man's name...I mean...I have homework to do."

Straight F's. Never attempted a page.
Too busy learning what goes well with sage
And how to calm my rage
The singe of my skin let my emotions disengage.

Every time the levees were going to break
Just crawl into my hiding place
Heat up a paper clip
and all that was inside would slake.

10 years later I am covered in scars
Hundreds, head to toe, all over my fleshy bars.

They are much more difficult to see.
However they are still embarrassing
Thus the long sleeves and I always wear jeans
irregardless of how hot or discomforting.

One day I want new scars, head to toe
tattoos to tell a new story.
of how I escaped the blues
I never really did but it sounds nice.

Usually people will say
happy birthday without
actually caring for the day
I am a lout


I had no idea the 26th was so important
Instead of perusing thoughts I laid dormant
Had I risen from fake wars in Afghanistan
I would have noticed it was the birthday of Lori Callahan!

I apologize for missing such a special date.
I hope it was one that no others can equate
For you deserve a day to yourself
and a special memory to put upon a shelf

Happy Birthday Lori! A friend so sweet.
Happy Birthday Lori! I hope someone massaged your feet.
Happy Birthday Lori! I hope you had a cake with candles.
Happy Birthday Lori! May this year be guided by angels.

Happy Birthday Lori Callahan!