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it was warm
for a winters eve
unusually warm
but damp very damp
birthing a persistent
midnight mist that
crawled over everything

avenging
halogen angels
flitted down from
streetlight perches
skidding through
bare limb bars
of broken trees
roped in by sagging
telephone wires

skulking
seraphs
joined
ebullient
neon auroras
laughingly
brake dancing,
jittering away on the
pock marked rims
of hip hop streets

the fine drizzle
descending from the
black urban heavens
splayed holy water
over the bodies
of anything
that moved; and
layered mounds
of transparent beads
on all inert things
chiding those yolked
to weighty burdens
to seek relief of
a much needed
breaking point

our
slouching city
mired in a cycle
of a prolonged
historical rut
beavers away
to lift the lid
on tomorrows
tipping point
in a desperate
labor to stop
tripping over
itself...

a dinged up
Sentra’s
flashing spinners
twisted round
our dark corner
nearly clipping
our troop

inside the
yakking low-riders
scuttled along,
their hidden ***** eyes
cruising the stoops
and cyclone alleys
scoping opportunities
for the next
jolly hustle
to feed
a growing
angry fix

tonight
Mother Nature was
running a *****
to the wall third shift,
manufacturing a
stationary low
of gagging precip
churning volumes
of Vulcan smoke
conjuring
convective spirits
from all the
dim places

emanations lit
the balmy January air
rising from
stubborn gray patches
of despoiled snow
and rancid ponds
organic gutter water
composting
in distilled pools
awaiting leakage
through flotsam
clogged sewage grids

Paterson’s
litter police
could close the
city’s budget deficit
if all infractions
were properly cited
and paid in this
neighborhood

this queer elixir of
rising vapors from
evaporating snow
escaping the cracks
lining the bowels of
mordant streets
joining descending
screens of billowing mists
blurs boundaries of light,
diffusing temporal time

people and things
lose precise definition
reducing sentient beings
to moving silhouettes of gray
photographic negatives
framed in dribbling palettes
of pastel hues

our
5th Ward mission
planted in the
hub of a neighborhood
still holding on...

Old WASP’s
of St. Paul’s
long ago
winged away
from this
princely
Episcopate
principality

the abandoned
conical nest, its
chambers filled with
the mud of 50 dead rectors
precariously clings
to its shivering
boulevard corner

its endowment depleted
its earthly treasure rusting
grandiose Tiffany windows
remain the last legacy of an
opulent faith now
shamefully rattling away
in moth eaten frames

once icons of
adulatory reverence
the final sparkling asset
of a distressed religion
begs to be monetized
by flummoxed vestrymen
yearning to extend
a stewardship
over a dissipating
ESL flock

distress in the hood
parades down Broadway
in all directions

a few blocks east
a shuttered
Barnert Hospital
transfigured into an
urban enterprise zone
for health-care privateers
working overtime to
extract federal
corporate welfare
rent subsidies
dutifully fulfilling
fine print obligations of
Obamacare legislation

Old Mayor Barnert’s
namesake synagogue
once hard by
City Hall
is long gone
its absent footprint
now centered by
a thriving
White Castle

near Broadway’s end
on the outskirts
of Eastside Park
Art Deco Emanuel Temple
the last anchor
for the city’s Judaism
lies vacant
awaiting a renewed
purpose

fraught with irony
a thriving Islamic Center
stands juxtaposed
across the street
from the old
Hebrew Temple

we wonder what
will emerge
from the
hallowed chrysalis
of decommissioned
Emanuel?

rumors of a
Great Falls Art Center
trickle like a leaking faucet
failure to secure a mortgage
in the post credit
bubble pop economy
dams the possibly
of a new centers
coming to fruition

will
the city’s
changing
demography of
reverent Muslim’s
genuflecting
across the street
take time away
from prayer to
patronize a venue
offering decadent
bourgeois jazz and
risqué reviews
of retro Borscht Belt
vaudeville?

when Constantinople
became Istanbul they
converted the Christian
churches into mosques

when the Inquisitioners
drove the Moors from
Granada they converted
the Grand Mosque to
the Cathedral of the
Incarnation

what incarnations
will this city’s
twilight bring?

As Byzantine
begets
Constantinople
begets
Istanbul
the links
in the Silk Road
spanned west
to the new world
of mechanized looms
powered by
Great Falls
raceway water
and a distribution
and procurement
chain anchored
by the Morris Canal

Capitalist
modernity
begets
our Silk City
it also bespeaks
its demise

in the courtyard
of St. Paul’s
a muffled chorus
trawls the thick air

a posse of pimps
done wrangling
their stables
of $5 ******
sing reveries to
the evening haul

midnight lullabies
of corner crooners
lift a Capella hosannas
from the dark armpit
of an alley behind
the Autozone

“i said
you say
what can make
me feel this way
my girl”

juiced pimps
cashin in
livin large on
a skanks
50 cent haul

the trade in flesh
of distressed
human capital
remains a
growth industry

Music Selection:  
Temptations, My Girl

jbm
3/1/13
Oakland
Part 1 of extended poem Silk City PIT.  PIT is an acronym for Point In Time.  PIT is an annual census American cities conduct to count the homeless population.  Paterson NJ is nick named The Silk City.
Aaron LaLux Sep 2017
Inspirational passions,
passin’ in the Fast Lane actin’ dready no Andretti no crashin’,
cashin’ bowls and buying vowels,
moving bowels from full plates No Alex Trabek no rations,

no talkin’ trash wheels spinning no traction,
no mackin’ all in ******* heavy weight UFC non-stop action,

this is angry aggression mixed with considerate compassion,
this is six men on six horses at 6pm screamin’ six guns blastin’,
through an actual galaxy of factual fallacies,
with cash counting kings and hash smokin’ assassins,
killin’ the villains and other shady characters,
to protect the women and children from the lawless badmen,

and those that know know and those that don’t don’t,
so there’s no need to was time askin’,
all knowns shown through prose and poem,
the words your eyes have heard are everything that happens,

well then,

welcome if you come in peace please have a piece of the pie,
high as Heaven on Cloud 9 in line with inspirational passions,
thought we’d escaped and found a way out,
but instead found outt we’d be summoned back in,

Inspirational passion,
passin’ in the Fast Lane actin’ dready no Andretti no crashin’,
cashin’ bowls and buying vowels,
moving bowels from full plates No Alex Trabek no rations,

no talkin’ trash wheels spinning no traction,
no mackin’ all in ******* heavy weight UFC non-stop action,

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

from THHT2: Nightmares & Dreamscapes
A worldwide #1 best selling poetry book

Viseract Aug 2017
I wake up but its all a dream
Cashin cheques on reality
You can't avoid if you cannot see
And you can't cash in without a salary

I'd imagine by now that the world would be flat
As lies to the weak is like *** for tat
Like this and that and Yin to Yang
Inseparable if its lodged in your brain

Like an icepick fits a lobotomy
Or the key to the locked monstrosity
The lack of hygiene to disease
I see strange **** while i sleep

Like balaclavas and white vans rollin
Free candy, kids stolen
Schools shut down by big bad guns
Trigger happy to be struck down dumb

Police enforcing, breach and clear
To clear the haze that fogs the mirror
What you see reflected is what lies inside
But brought out stronger, you can see it in the eyes

Cold and malicious, a job is a job
A cop or a gangster, ready to rob
At the end of the day, a life taken is crime
Evil changes host, it never truly dies

If i have no trust I'm sorry
But y'all lied when you said dont worry
Because i placed my faith and now its wasted
On a bunch of *******, evil motivated

The essence of the soul is a *** of gold
That can be exploited by greed unknown
A certain host, attracts moths to a lamp post
They find the fit and fill that hole

That void becomes your battery
A lifetime of crime without sanity
So here I lay, cashin in my salary
The reality that fuelled my vanity
possibly part of a song
Jay Jimenez Mar 2013
greasy hands
and rusty tools
bolts and shop rags
that dry my tough skin
i see the clock tick down
as me and my brother work away
the money makes us patient
because our time awaits
sick back crack the tall tops
and shots bring back the days when we sat on bar stools and talked ****
but when the magazine cover cops our last names
we will be sittin in the shade and our dickies are in the dryer waiting to be folded
creased and soon we will be pampered on
and we will sit back and smoke cigs and talk about the days when we talked about gettin rich
now were rich and talking about what we will do next
paychecks are old news
the new girls are old news
and the old news are our new stories
just sittin and listenin to wu tang
and sparkin up mexican bluegrass
and not cashin in our g pass
flippin pages
flippin pages
ConnectHook Apr 2020
My cat WOKE:
Petra Electra Perpetua.

I’m telling y’all, she massive woke;
lit, like wicked wick holy smoke.

She outsmart Christopher ******* dreamin’
teach a dog where a BONE at,
discern every demon,
(not to mention advanced forensics.)

She rise, she yawn, she stretch, she flex
then start cashin’ every other pet paychecks.

She charge per minute just to LOOK at her fur
while she sharpen her nails. My Petra purr . . .

Dogs be all: WOOF
She don’t even answer.
Scribe rhymed Arabic lyrics
while she beat a belly dancer
with her TAIL, pfffffft. . .

My girl don’t tag, she SPRAY.
Mark every wall, y’all . . .
Seen all over the hood, gnome sain?

Offer her Sheba, she like:
Won’t touch it. Give me that Meow Mix.

My girl teach Afrikan lioness about *****;
*** on a paean, droppin’ lyrics like mice
other feline get fussy
my kitty get NICE.

TikTok your Instagram feed
right into her bowl.

My girl so woke,
save her own fanged soul.

Slip out the house—she gone.
Workin’ secret route to EGYPT.
Roast every priestess in Bastet city;

My kitty taught CLEOPATRA (u feel me?)
about *****.

She scratch Catwoman, pounce on Robin
Batman wet his weak-*** mask, sobbin’.

My girl woke;
so woke she don’t nap, she sleep—

profoundly. Soundly. DEEP.
PROMPT #29:
write a paean to your pet.

Christopher Smart referenced
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Her megacosm luminaries
Streaketh the Spanish fairy
A kismet of no forget's
All clean
Sanitary
No caution here
Take off thy wordly shoes
Cashin's shalt not be rationed
Jazz and rock and roll blues
Instant sanity
Ground to kava beans
Queens and kings
Hopes and dreams
Splendered
******* Dusk's
To smell her musk
To break her unease
To dry her tears
To wipe her feet
To crown her empress
To shine her in
To get a glimpse of heaven
To forget all mine sins
To create a totality
Made of ourn own cerebration
Catoptric intellectual gifts
A boom of sonic
Mass concentration!!!!
Kagey Sage Dec 2013
I’m in bed thinking of escape plans. When I close my eyes, I cash out endless people in my lines. In dreams I hold dear my own: girl, passion, and life direction. I wake up for seconds and doze off, like reality’s just a short nightmare. Time to get back to my cashin’. It’s not about cash or fashion. It’s about sitting alone, being real with yourself, and seeing your dreams are too far away to help. I spend my days trying to control clock hands. Slow or fast, I make them dance. But still, I haven’t left this place. I’m about to leave a pine cone on my bed, and walk through the woods until I get to the other end. And if in 20 minutes I’m in a farmer’s field, I’ll keep pulling that peel to find a place that escaped this pretentious human race.
Michael Marchese Apr 2017
You can't catch me 22 
I'm miles dead ahead of you  
Runnin' circles round' you squares
With lion shares and grizzly bares
Livin' on a cobra's prayer
With taboo turpitude'n tongue
Conundrums that I'm summon'un
The meta-Orpheus has come
Since 21, the chosen one
I'm neo-hippy rebel ****
So ante-uppers, get you some
Eleven seven slurpee sun
Super-soaking supernovas
With a matrix water gun
From vats of hydrochloric
Spillin' Joker on the masses
Turnin' Gotham allegoric
Into clown prince rhymes of passion
Of a blood of Christ fanatic
Jimmy Jones'n as I'm cashin'
In the semi-theocratic
Weapon cache'n checks imbalanced
Chemically unstable attic  
Bat **** crazy poison gases
Spewin' power-trippin' fascist
Cataclysmic autocratic
Devolution clash of classes
Resolution's prehistoric
Meteoric democratic  
So I'm risin' from the ashes
From dismayin' to conveyin'
How I'm goin' super Saiyan
When the treasure hordes of Mordor lords
Corrupt the men of Numenor
For Bard the Bowman heroes
Are the roles that I am playin'
In shadows of the Arkenstone
When I go dragon slayin'
GaryFairy Nov 2013
I always wanted to be a part of it, from the start of it, to get deep down in the heart of it, i only did it for the art of it, apart of it, i want to be the dart of it
i always had a heart that was passionate, that's how they fashioned it, i have skill and i know how to ration it, i'm stashin it until it's time for cashin it
i always wanted to be articulate, intricately magnificent, like king of the syndicate, i always tried to go fist to fist with it, trying to be a significant participant
in shape and i never pull a ligament because i implement infinite, inventive to invent it, i just sent it to the senate, admit it, all that and i'm hypoallergenic
Cuz all i see is ****** ******
from past centuries
i got a scorned memory
won't let these demons get to me
visions of red blue and white
Blood water & spiritual fights
My peeps dying daily
For spittin' the real truth
Cuz the system gotta chip tooth
I'm representin' Hendrix experience
off that purple haze
put my mind in a deep daze
psychotic thoughts makin' deadly plots
enemies get dropped
when the sounds off my guns pop
breakout the **** then Im.mashin'
No flashin'
since it's m.o.b ya know we Cold cashin'
cuz i was fiendin' for that last reign
goin' against the grain
heart full of pain I'm goin insane
tryna reach my past peeps
spirits drenched with tears
talkin' to the past revolutionaries
like they still here
JAM May 2013
There are times we don't see things
even though they are as simple as they are,
even when they're right in front of us
we don't see, hear, or smell them right under our nose
let alone from a far.

Be patient and take your time if you need to,
it can be as hard as you make it or as easy as you want it
like an open book to read through.

So while your busy livin',
runnin' around cashin' checks at banks
don't forget to stop and say thanks
to all those that have givin'.

-J.A.M
the tea is cold
my head is filled with mold
unfold stories that remain unsold
how can I be so bold
one might ask
I'll leave you with this
if I die tomorrow
I might never get the chance
to sing my song
instead of humming along
for so long I was just floating along
filling the void
devoid of all joy
I had to toy
with the idea
that my head remained unclear
tunnel vision
review mirror
not that I cling to all I hold dear
fear has its grip around my neck
I admit, it's hard to forget
a feeling that never left
a battle that still rages on
and on and on and on
repetitive thoughts loud as beating drums
but lacking the passion
contemplating cashin' in
cause I don't know where to begin
I once lived in sin
I still do
but because of you I made myself new
or so I thought I did
in the sense that I no longer do what isn't best
morally
for those supporting me
ironically
the only thing that holds me back is me
when I think back to being a kid
never could I have imagined this
a prisoner of war
and what for
there is so much more
I found a reason to stay and fight
I just wish I could fight for myself
I wish I could escape myself
self created hell
ah
to be granted a wish
such sweet bliss
or so it would seem
I no longer want to dream of dreams
but do
take a chance and pursue
change my perspective
seek something new
all old routes are through
I'm finished yet renewed
on the path to better views
painting the picture with brighter hues
always preaching it starts with you
this time I won't label it true
because what is
is
is
keep an eye out for my accomplishments
Jordan Hudson Sep 2019
Burn that **** out at your place
Ash to ground like sun rays
Radiation, pacin'
Facin', racin'
Makin' my way to town
Burn that **** down to the ground
Smoke in the air
Heat level risin'
Seekin' the horizon
Sun down smoke still there
Guns out town folk's lair
Hills with fog, devil's vlog
End of the year
Hollywood air
Fire in the sky
The media's lies
Drain them and turn them
Learn them, and burn them
Mistakes and passions
Rich fakes and cashin'
Luxury and mansions
Burn all that ****
Say that's it
Sin city too
Desert make them move
Burn that **** out at your place
Ash to ground like sun rays
Radiation, pacin'
Facin', racin'
Makin' my way to town
Burn that **** down to the ground
Listen to that sound
Razo Jan 2018
Highway chasin', lotto cashin
Stashin' out the vehicles to the homies
Girl cheating but I still answer the call
I can block her but she can't stand me
I just relapsed, coincidentally my phone tapped.
Take a seat on his lap, making him proud; clap clap
Paper chasin', police statin',
Mom fainting in the living room
we fight, awake she says im loved
She the key to m heart
When the Glass Shatters, It never Matters
'Cept when you need a fix tomorrow
Looking through the blinds of homes,
forgetting the items you 'tole.
Story be told, I'm made of gold.
Uncut, Original
Lucky, Nonfictional
We busted from the frictions
No rubbers, but I stutter when I lie
Since I was a baby, I wore the crown of hades, no if ands or maybes,
Prior thoughts of killers lately, my enemies always set, a vision for me to see,
Sight em ahead, so many envious of bread, love of wars, got us by the heads,
Free money only for dummies, they being set up by the scummies,
Mastermind of commies, yo I watch every thing around me, like cream,
But it dont rule me, I just sit back like Poseidon guarding the seas,
My flows astronomical, disaster make tapes artificial, yall too superficial,
I spit the real Yo, no beats or an instrumental, some say I'm detrimental,
Cuz I speak truth, to the youths mental, verbal criminal, am I,
I graze the skies, too fast new flash, I got a ****, from a darkness clash,
Along with lightening, hands open like Raiden, another flawless victory,
And even if I die, yall will mourn me, in this youtube commentary,
A true visionary, twin Nastradmous, hypotnized by death and dramas,
Theatre of the war, see what we in for, see souls rotting to the very core,





They saying they ain't feeling me, but would feel me, if I was dead see,
Uh, that's how fake society, really is they got our kids, living in the grids,
Of they matrix, they staying playing tricks, inside ya mind, look behind,
So you can see what's ahead of you, only a few, understand what I do,
Some won't, cuz they caught up in the show, modern day fiascos,
I lasso my foes, everyday welcome to the ghetto rodeo, kick down the door,  
Of the industry, I shoot til they oozing, out the pores, as I polish the floor,
With my sins, I see the faded djinns, taking me in, and I ain't even cashin,
In yet, no matter the plot or a threat, I stand for wisdom, so I'll never regret,
Forget what, these other brothers sayin, I'm tryna level up my saiyan,
Understand what I'm saying, I'm Goku once I focus, on what I wanna go through,
No fear in my life, I'd ratha die a man, than a cowards, a million showered,
Tryna keep dirt off their name, it's a shame, never swelled on fortune, and fame
Michael Marchese May 2018
No end in sight Afghanistan
Still burnin’ flags out in Iran
Chinese steel grip
The Fuhrer’s fist
Still poundin’ on the podium
As Appalachia still succumbs
To ethnic cleansing *****
Peace-keepin’ like a North Korean
Sleepin’ on a Puerto Rican
Leakin’ all the in between and
Still you people think he’s speakin’
For the huddled masses, middle classes?
Cuttin’ taxes
For the battle axes cashin’ in
On truth denial gasses
Maskin’ babies bodies buried in
The Stormy normalcy
And no apology for Johnny
See why Colin took a knee?
Or did you miss the racial murders
Every single ******* day
I guess you missed the homelessness
Or the unequal gender pay
And when the kids take to the streets
You shut them up with adderall
Then seal them up behind a wall
Until their world’s a shopping mall
And then the Columbine each time
A new disorder
Breaks the mind
Until the Nero anti-hero
Comes to muse of its decline
Michael Marchese May 2018
The wretchedest recklessness civilized savage
Still life of the dead party politic Ba’athist
On acid dispellin’ out
Truth sarin gases
A flask full of blasts from the way passed Jurassic
A passive assassin
Amassin’ a chemical
Weapons grade cache
And then armin’ the youth
With a freshly baked batch
Of this back of the class
To the top of the caste
Stubborn *******’
Cultural iconoclast
Smashin’ bumpkins
And bumpin’ my tunes
On the track
Cashin’ in on the super PAC
Alternate fact
In the ashen green pastures
Of post-truth Iraq
I got stacks of sealed caskets
Of old me’s I buried
And tales of the lost souls
To Hades
I’ve ferried
For taxes from cryptic coin cons
Cemeteried
Michael Marchese Nov 2019
Keep pushing the poison
To public consumption
Keep profiting off of
Disabling function
Of bodies succumbing
To numb effervescences
Wrapped in a blanket
Of bliss evanescences
Upping the dosages
Potencies hitting
Prescribed by the bought and sold
Doctors submitting
To fraudulent Pharma
Cartels cashin’ in
On the overdose ghosts
Of a future stolen
But why stop
When revival
Is one call away
And survival
Is free
For those willing to pay
For the privatized antidote
Prices arise
Just as quick as they fall
For the sweet street surprise
ConnectHook Mar 2021
Peep be like:

Aint no TRUMP
in tha house
No mo

Now we all

Gone *** PAID

whole nation
cashin checkz now

Carmela

Going to endorse

every single one.



Gnome sane?
I hope Jobiden and Carmela get us into some more wars soon!
Maybe they can outsource more manufacturing to China too ☺

— The End —