My favorite moments
are spent in darkness.
Seconds spent sightless
wrapped in a woman's embrace
Eyes closed, breath held and lips pressed
against an opposing pair.
The hair of my mustache
brushed past and tickled
the top half of her thought's brim.
She giggled and bit a little
letting me nibble the bottom
as her tongue dribbled to the middle.
She became my phantom limb,
rolling and waving on my whim
and I, hers. As if I were sutures,
she quivered like this moment closed
wounds left by others. But I'm no doctor
and she's no lover. We couldn't even see
what we were doing to each other.

In case you did not know,
there is a wonderful forest where the toys go.
Inside they bounce and play.
And live out their day.

My favorite people live here
even though they are not.
I visit them often,
with or without ***.

Honey and balloons.
Carrots and OCD.
bouncing tigers and roos
and pigs with anxiety.

Owls with terrible spelling
and wonderfully awful advice.
These are the things that comfort me
When the world isn't so nice..

Mellow cello sounds sweetly of sadness.
Madness with the hand
pointed from the mind
I bind
rather bide my time
to 34 blue lines
inside my binder
with a purple cover
Just a few letters
A, B and C
D and E
It gets better
F Sharp
and a couple G's
I agree
Oh me,
Oh I
Oh Be
why
E
train harder
Oh bother
Oh brother
I would rather
think drunken thoughts
than speak sober
words to
a bear
or any animal for that matter
At the end of the paper
A, B C and D
E and F sharp
Throw in a couple G's on a sheet
for mellow cello sounds

I use to be so full of life.
I wore vibrant colors
Tye-dyed
purples
greens
oranges
reds
blues
I wore a head full of dreadlocks
and inspiring thoughts
but
                      something
                    ­                                  went
                          ­                                                   wrong

I use to have this box
full of everything I regarded as sacred
I took it with me everywhere I went








I                                   the                                away.....
                ­put                                box
























­
















far away








up in the attic
hidden beneath
other boxes
covered with the dust
of several years,                                                          ­It hasn't even been one


As I searched through the attic
in search of something unrelated
I stubbed my toe on the box
I realized
I forgot                                                           ­     
the box was even there

and it all came back
a flood     with
a typhoon     accompanied by
a hurricane
Smashed against a hollow city

Overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of  it all

I












Just













cried















and
















cried




­
My hair is cut now.
I must remain within regulation
The colors have dulled
into charcoal grey
the same color my ashtray is stained with
the same color my shoes are
the same color my sweaters are
the same color of this website


THE SAME DULL COLOR

My socks match
white
black
green
grey               <<<<<< There it is again....

everything is 01010010011010010110010001101001011000110111010101101100011011110­1110101011100110000110100001010

yes that is 1 word.

heart = 0110100001100101011000010111001001110100
mind = 01101101011010010110111001100100


I use to live my life through the process of making memories
something that can not be measured
converted
defined
even though I did all three of those to it

That is why she left
and she left                           I started chuckling to myself
and she left

I
Me
the 9th letter of the English alphabet according to the rest of the world
changed
and I wasn't even aware of it
until it was over

I don't even recognize my laugh anymore...
or my dreams...

But I have my box

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.

There was a soft green glow
that read "4:00am".

It was a burning reminder.
He had no place to go.

That blinking colon
mirroring two zeros;

mirroring his pupils
blinking away 'til his life's end

Each second reflected his inability
to face reality with a semblance of tranquility

He was shaking.
Fearful of the sun rising.

The sunlight brought truth.
He didn't know who he was or what he was going to do.

Within myself is a miasma.
Its the reason for my asthma.

It fogs the clarity of my sight
and forces regurgitation despite

shots,pills and Oxford accreditation.
They say it is a virus with"complications."

I already knew there would be no antidote
Its obvious in the way I constantly spat and choked.

I always excuse myself in an outbreak.
Wash the blood off my lips and and cope my heartache.

For a moment I can recollect myself in this disease
between the convulsions and the wheeze.

I begin to find a state of equilibrium.
And ***** myself on the tile podium.

Yet as I stare into the mirror all I can see within
Is the fury writhing underneath my skin.

The following are three random poems I made up today

                                                                My Shirt

Red, black and grey
are the colors of my shirt today
It matches my shoes vans
A pair of blue jeans
in between
to represent my blues


                                                         ­                Comp Book

I started with 100 sheets
now there are 78
free from the mesh of madness
hidden beneath the grates

                                            
                                                                ­            Hats
I don't like to wear hats
well, I do like beanies
but this nonsense over fitted caps
is just an excuse for people to be meanies

I have the sniffles
Because i didn't take precaution.
I have several sweaters
But they didn't sell in auction.
So I ventured outside
into the frost an'
got the sniffles
because i didn't take precaution.

To have questions is a blessing
To have no answers is a curse
like a song without music
or a verse
No beat to bob your head
just silence in your headphones
louder than a gospel chorus
Breathing won't cool your porridge
per se
Looming thoughts are howls in the forest
Not day
And your a long way
from home
Hello, Hi, Shalom
barely phase the surface as you roam
inside your mind's cage.
Can't turn the page
cause the book is glued together.
Like feathers
Confidence falls from the sky
as you drip-dry
fresh from a sea of doubts.
You can build a house
with hay
but hey, bricks can be thrown
when the wolves are at bay.

What I am is a variable
          for this sake lets say W
I am the result of a personal equation
My truth is invariable
At least on this occasion

Multiply my changes(c) by 21
Those are the years I've spent beneath our sun
      21c
The purpose of this piece is
to formulate when my living begun

Divided by fear plus attraction
this will not be the only abstraction
As the sum will be added to a negative distraction
This is already becoming a complicated fraction
(21c)/-D+(F+A)

Fear is the number of years Ive spent
subservient
to my mind                


Attraction is the number of times
I've forsaken my chains
and made dollars out of nickles and dimes

Amidst the silence of an apartment
judgment screams like a stadium broadcast.
The footsteps and chatter coming from the walls
reverberate through all six sides.

Six separate families.
Six separate worlds.
Six separate galaxies.

With one man in the center,
hoping one of those footsteps is for him.
Praying one of those laughs will be familiar.
As he lays on the floor of his home, a small
piece of his hope is chipped as the sounds
fade away into the silence of the night.

Once again he is engulfed by the blackness
he finds so soothing. This is where the footsteps
are for him. This is where the laughter is familiar.
Because they are his own.

I am lacking
a sufficient amount of peanut packing.
Lighting struck beach
shatters underneath
the footsteps of my thoughts.
Roo will have to wait
until tomorrow's date.
I apologize
to myself
for being distracted.
This series of thoughts
has become protracted
I am losing my point.
Owl will be redone
and this spool will be respun
The heart of what is meant
by my words will circumvent
my lack of inspiration.

I died on a Sunday
A day of blessings,
peace. Eternal sleep
was interrupted by medicine.

It happens

When I woke,
I was surrounded by strange people
White suits and blue masks.
Needles in my arms
Sensors on my chest.

That must have done wonders for your anxiety

My...heart...simply...stopped.

As if it no longer wished to fill the pain
of a life half lived. Loves almost won

You can't "win" love

Fights never finished. Things never said.

What did you do?

I quit my job. I told the woman that I like
my feelings for her. Changed Apartments.

What did you really do?

I began living.

Freely

Then next time I die. I will not have regrets.

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?

Wandering through mornings
Cloaked in night
Silence resounding
 Pausing for a red light



                                                        ­          Camels running through a desert  lung
                                                    ­                          Iced tea becomes an oasis
                                                        May­be smoke, Maybe air, a need-to-know basis
                                                           ­          Harder to tell as filter meets tongue


Cloaked in night
 Silence resounding
 Wandering through mornings
Pausing for a red light


                                                         ­                                                                 ­                       Thought to think
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                               of opinions
                                                        ­                                                                 ­                                    in spite of
                                                              ­                                                                 ­                            reflections.
                                                                ­                                                                 ­        Notions and concepts
                                                        ­                                                                 ­                                 birth ideas;
                                                                ­                                                               grandchildren of the mind.




Silence resounding
Wandering through mornings
Pausing for a red light
 Cloaked in night
                                                           ­                     
                                                                ­          

                                                     ­                      Purpose lost within frosty
                                                                ­          air through a thin white T.
                                                              ­          Crashing thoughts parallel E-
                                                              ­                 Y-E lids amid empty
                                                                ­                  lots and streets.

                                                               ­               
Pausing for a red light
Silence resounding
Wandering through mornings
Cloaked in night

Slow to feel regret
like a turtle  wet
from a sea of dreams
in which I'm triumphed by the hare's schemes.
It seems I can't find peace
between the seems of my shredded sheets.
Tossing and turning,
I retreat
into a world yearning
for an absence of bleak
thoughts and tortured minds.
A world where everything IS fine.
Where we dine and dance
and true love isn't based on chance
but the contents of one's emotion.
Since no land exists
I insist
We build our paradise in the ocean.

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.

Frightened by my fascination.
Fascinated by my fright.
Curiosity holds me with might.
I must, maybe I trust,
heed a most
extraordinary boast.

The Jedi is dead
Now we're off to bed.
She's not mad about missing our date
Just the fact my shoulder still creaks
like a rusty gate.
I pour my thoughts into her,
as if they are rain
and she is a grate.
In the middle of the street
I sink
into her embrace
The whiskey isn't as bad as the cigarette taste
or
The cigarette isn't as bad as the whiskey taste
As we press our bodies together,
I shiver and shake
She responds
Turn the light off.
*So both of us can be black in this place.

Concise
Device
Advice
Entice
A peculiar devise concise in
function. Often advice entice woe.

Remarkably ineligible scribbles
like a doctor's short hand.
Every so often we peer over the edge of our hearts'
paper bound representation
and catch eachother's eye.

Its that moment.
When our gaze meets
we don't need to see to understand.
Actually, doing it in the dark is part of what makes it exciting.
In that moment
when our glance
makes our worlds collide
within our irises

you strip.
shedding off the plates of armor
hidden in your sweater dress and scarf
your thigh-high boots, arm-length bracelets
and the baggy beanie so elegantly
laid upon your head
Twirling proudly,
exposing every twist and turn,
every pothole and hill.
These roads I have yet to travel.
Still I can feel my chain mail unravel.
We stand there exposed.
A queen without a crown
and a king without a throne
and our kingdoms unite under the banner of white sheets
and blue lines that define our bodies, hearts and minds.

Its just a moment
then its  back to scribbling.
Smiling and snickering
and silence occasionally interrupted by
Trains & Sirens
Its better than ***.
Really, it is.
Just to know my muse is at the end of my nose.

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.

I hope you've forgotten me
So I, alone, can carry
the burden that's our memories.

Superiority
is a complex complex.
When one objects objects
their mind tends to mind.
Tales become tails.
The water in one's  pail pales
in comparison to the sea, you see.
But please  do not shed a tear as I tear
into one's psyche.
I am merely expressing a minute point of view in a minute.
Conversing a conversing idea
with the mighty.
I know this may be difficult for one to comprehend,
But nobody likes a donkey,
donkey.

I understand what your saying
But can it be said in a way that's less

Complacent?
Condescending?
Our points are adjacent.
Maybe that's what isn't comprehending.
Fractured views mending.
See, our argument is nascent
to a conversation. Instead of descending,
we're inventing unrelenting patience
with our ideals.

You can see it in my eyes' dilation.
In the way I lick and bite my lips,
wrap and clench my fists
between sheets of frustration.

Something in the way your hairs twist
insists the soul of an artist.
I swear it was made by a florist
and sprinkled with stardust.

And the quasars your eyes are
Shine brighter than light fractured
through the stones your fond of.
I'm jealous of everyone who's experienced your gaze before me.

The physical features of your body
are just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak,
Of why I find you enticing. Your mind is so entrancing
it could make the Titanic re-sink.

There is beauty beneath your hair,
Behind your eyes, in the center of your mind and the crust of your skin.
A universe of beauty you hold within. As I witness something that rare
I tell myself...No, force myself to believe this is just infatuation.

Curiosity.
Life changing at a rapid velocity.
The hypocrisy of an unjust philosophy
called democracy.

A nation reaching for the stars.
Finding life on mars.
Leaving the earth scarred
as if it's an old girlfriend
crying in her car while
he drives to the bar with the
new woman he's destined to mar.

It's pitiful
The common man is treated criminal
Speaking the truth gets you clinical
trials.  In the age of digital,
the biblical is still considered the
pivotal, principle foundation.

**This is an Idol-me-nation

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.

I am envious.

Jealous
of the way you speak
I can't do anything as beautifully
as the way you say I
or anything between A & Z
in any combination
found in any dictionary


Noticing the way you breathe
Takes away my breath
When I see the rising in your chest
and that slight smile you make
before the exhale
makes me quail
and my heart flail
like its on fire
Thoughts stop, drop

And the way you roll
those R's makes me perspire
And time transpires in slow motion
when you say L and all I can say
Mm, Its going to be a lovely day
I won't need the jack & coke potion
when I retire
If you can pop the P in pole

I am jealous
of the way you speak

I came to this place on two broken
Knees.
Six words said: Can I have a drink
Please.
They are not that expen-
seive
I believe I can deny my carnal
Needs
I know even wizards can
Bleed
Profusely some Gods speak languages
Falsely.
And certain people speak but stare
Blankly.
Layman's terms: the majority is
Lying

I talk to inanimate objects more than to than real people

Your presence is like Midas touch
a bit too much,
we,
smile at the sight-of each others blush
nah, not but
we ****-heads over bread
over loafs
over who gives better head
instead
of which heart is gripped by the solid gold clutch

There are days
Where my body lays
in
a position
reminiscent
of  1991.

Fifteen minutes entwine conversation during dawn.
Sun makes mist noticeable.
As well as the dew.
Bubbles in glasses
mirror silence
with stillness

Write half-right about quarters twice;
worth 50 cents.
Half-right, write about quarters twice;
worth $1.

Half-hour
past fifteen. Sixteen
words written at a 45 degree
angle across seventeen sheets of paper.
45 minutes past the last
90 degree angle.

I am left with shreds of memories.
The time spent in solitude
with you proves
only one thing.

Little instances held onto
like a child's hand dangling
from a cliff.
Sweat mingles and loosens our grip.
Passionate.

We are losing,
Never mind, I am losing.

Its starts off with a bitter shock
an almost emetic feeling envelops
Try not to loose your cool..
Force the feeling back and down
It gets easier with practice.
In the middle is
elation
euphoria
empathy
another word that starts with E
At the end is a sinking feeling
Magnified on the wooden table
Sweet Memory left with Bad Taste
*They should get married some day

A lack of traction
like wheels spinning in the mud.
A subtraction of reason;
Call it swimming in a flood
Your blood is red as mine.
We both count
One, two, three, four, five
Six, Seven, Eight, Nine.

So why must you separate us
like cartilage between vertebrate?
I only want to decorate your face
with smiles.

*Is that too much to ask for?

Look at my hands.
They create and shape
Reality on my demands.
These scarred phalangies
contour concepts like destiny
deftly. Meticulously configuring
My Rubix's cube territory
Until the world before me
Is a model of what I wish to see.

I am a god

I will twist this existence
until I find it suitable
for my presence.
Only then my appearance
will be seen as a blessing.
Maybe then I won't have
to be loved from a distance