eroding before me
are these tiny strings
still pulling apart
still tied to me,
but
I know these delicate attachments
won’t last as long as
the ropes I tie around my waist,
but the invisible touch can sometimes
silently vibrate against my skin
and catch the lighting,
reminding me who’s at the end
of my string
far away from me,
and I can be happy-
yet
sometimes
I see
that this
hidden thread
is marked in crimson blood
threading itself through my skin
into my muscles
and out back again-
I must not only
pull out my scissors
to cut
but
now I must
pull until the barb slices through my skin again-
a lesson I will never learn.

have you seen his eyes?
or did the maggots get them first
when his skull sunk into dirt-

did the roots latch on and pull?
or did his body choose to dive deep
and anchor at earth’s feet-

was he wearing a crown?
or was his head scalped and dry
leaving no room for pride-

did they celebrate when his body was found?
everyone blames the one who seeks the skies
but forget they were born belowdecks-

I love to see children in session.
their lives are in harmonic transfantasia
until a conductor calls upon them for duty-

did you see which trains they boarded?
for they left in a rush
and may never remember their heartsong-

did anyone catch the conductors name?
a traveler near to a tender soul
can meld it to his very own-

will they remember home?
when the aromas return on a springs breeze
a new nose will turn away-

it won’t be long.
a foots journey will return
back where it belongs.

-for their dreams are drowned out by the whistle,
their hearts meander upon riches,
and their skulls blow away as what was good is enjoyed
by maggots
and dirt-

Painted colors
Painted colors
You said we’d be painted
To be different from the others
But all I see
Are walls painted
Grey

I bring my little light
Into a bigger night
I fear that the darkness
Can cover my little life
But I know this candle
Will burn back the dark
Till day
Break.

Once the grey box takes you
Tumbles up and shakes you
And puts you to the test,
Let them cut you open
Spill the paint to show them
That your colors can’t be repressed!
When they try and hold you
Crumple up and fold you
And mold into something else,
Burn your wick till empty
Set fire to the plenty
Your fire cannot be dispelled!

you hear the call
you answer the call
you follow the call
you chase after the call
but after all
who is calling
who is taking the fall
who are you leaving behind
back on the wall
an empty hall
shouting empty calls-
who are you leaving
to pursue what you are believing-
who is at the back hand
of your swing-
who is carrying the burden
that you’re carrying-
who takes up your cross
as you carry a wooden symbol
claiming that you hear the call-
i sit and wonder if you heard nothing after all
except the voices inside the heart
where deception befalls-

Thick smoke spit
My tonic
Swell eyes split
Black cloud fix
Late night drips
Late night sips
Sipping up sap
Sapping up tipsy
Tap taps on the tips
Watch the floor lifting
Shifting
Smash, crackle crispy
Crunch mc nuggets
Four AM grizzly
Grizzle grease griot
Giving slurred wispily
Words like the feet
Falling faster swiftly
Like the head shoulder
Knees toes tickling
The senses of motion
Devotion to sick things!
Sick things!
Sick things!
Few friends out late
Grab a cake
Grab a mate
Grab a bake
Grab a fate
Drive it fast
Make it last
Make it crash
Make it all end quickly!
Quickly!
While she sleeps softly
Coughing up blood
Never felt haunting
Wanting her to wake up
Like the day's drugs scoffing
I'm the same drunk drugged up mug
With a lie stuck to the name like made up love
Like made up stories of truth masked with icing on top
Like the cherry minus vanilla, minus chocolate, minus ice cream, minus nice things
Minus life, minus death, minus point, minus breath, minus art, minus stability, minus self sufficient tranquility!
Find life
Find it right
Find it tonight
Find it before it's time
Find it before it's out of sight
Find it before your friends dead in head lights
Find it before you're a murderer plastered on the headlines
Find it before you find out that you wasted all this time on bad highs
Bad rhymes
Pushing away coffee cake
And pineapple plates
For a daily dose of dead drives.

the gateway
guarded by your skull
leads many to their grave,
reminds many of the way home,
for the paths burned through
lead to all too familiar places,
and the burns of rage and true way
leave all too familiar traces-
how can we move forward
when the gateway leads you to fear?
how can we move forward
when the road to purpose only faintly appears?
we have our sight
but our mind’s eye isn’t clear-
we lift our bodies
but our mind’s soul won’t make a move,
won’t get out of here.
our hearts burn true to lead us to our destiny
but honestly
we’re trapped inside this hopeless mind, and we’ll forever be
And never leave
unless we change the prison we know, with gruesome force
and change our course
in time-

when the axe is poised above our head
and our foes brandish it with haste
to relieve our necks of their heavy dread
and to bring death, destruction, and shame-
i remember the words a song once said
of seeing a brother in the enemy's face
and will not fight back against my death,
and hope my foe’s soul wont meet my same fate.