Cross legged
sitting in lotus pose
she blushes,swells
a white lotus
before the rising sun.
Palms are pressed
together in front
in a "Namaste"
to the divine, present
in everyone.
He is now just
some other, no special
eyes while closing tell.
How 'yoga' with the
higher self could  exclude
amour's special privilege?
Adamant to reclaim it
between  points of twin buds
his eyes vacillate,
her eyes closed shut, still
moves, lids peel a bit
lips curl and sent a hiss
like a hearty exhale
it sounded "decedent"

If you don't by know as of yet whom
I refer to as __,
you will soon enuf;

It is rare that I can go there so well, even on occasion for the destructive,
5th dimensional gifts running backwards, Houdini by grave doing back-flips,
for along with the Heart's of David Copperfield types wanting to know how,
can we pick up a few of these tricks, in other lifetimes my type picked up many,
places along of course through Kemet's of Egypt, and not so far back but,
is where I had to go on the endless effort of trying to find the magical child,
already gone by first of memories and I thought woot hoot I could juggle,
the woes of humanity or inhumanity as I see know, you know by;

justification of I don't see any more or less innocence or guilt,
round here but if there is such a great need when I saw it,
and figged I cud get through it, it was love for what else,
could there be and I do, be and fill so much very need;

but X'yzz....ah 'um once there was Shakespeare,
an era wrapping up by befalling heads wanting bread,
of whom exclaimed well if those are their terms and conditions,
'Let'em eat cake' ergo and or our newer foundations; but as far as,
I knew it and I wondered and pondered how why wherefore before,
someone who seems projective of who dare be Queen or Princess,
more than aristocratic, the vine of genetics, KISS keep it simple silly,
why war for this nonsensical stuff;

it's not the decadent decedent's,
but off Divine Spirit;

well money power sure can keep well hidden powers and you can,
hmmm get along for a spell but here a spell there a spell with each castle,
Humpty Dumpty oh well;

but now again is the Globe again along with Life,
the stage we are cast upon truly;

it's time for our own era's Renascence;

but last I knew them truly with all gifts 5th dimensional they and their darkly companions,
too now here they are onto years unmentionable, still can't honor it and I guess they,
just want death, not more than one way about it, they will try to out wait and hate;

hahaha,
but by me I've taught them all they know and no matter who they turn against me,
10k in a court room dey'd not dare a step by one in however remember Howard Hughes,
I would say I do always love and though too I am the one and only and best friend indeed,
even though I know I am the enemy, no matter what they say believe think and even feel,
but I love to play nice like thrice no mines about it,
giving all overly good information,
fairer than fair warnings;

they gather darkly more into about their hypnotic spells castings, kinda crazy all dead set against me, when last to save their own ***'s, there were some identity issues and class type things but they were, known as good in the end and yet we have yet again to begin;

'dey don't know themselves not even by here now this lifetime alone,
black art denialists wooing all about with sugary treaty's they bark bark,
but if they bit the wrong cat here to hard their teeth would fall out;

yet and the roots seeded here now for the better part of the show with new,
edit-eers producers rolling arts in, I know, I will, I can, I see these things always,
before they appear and blood bearing beings near on, ain't willing give or take,
some where and the billions of years the dust rocks and trees already are on;

all kinds of well you know, what we've got going round now along with a time,
to come from the woods of our hidings and out from the fear to be gods birth right,
citizens we played a lot of silly games of peeka boo pretend,
ain't heaven ain't here the list is long,
we know all to well

A dream over due
1999
september
it is august
the flies are insects
growing the Vice apple between the graying chicago winter fern of the ******
towering
empty parking lot super market trees
brown
baige
***** and autumn
skin like apple sauce
dancing inside the mirror of Lust and his Sister Fresno California
On a Payphone
At a Fuel Station
Lights all Blue
Lights all dull
dullified by the gasoline
the cigarette butts that collect in the mouths of mountain saints
Capture Zen
Burn all the books that led you too led poisoning

I am Van Gogh
Scrapping off the dried paint of my walls
of my women
naked in my bed of a hope factor

I am going insane
and the stars do not mind
the Clouds seem to be careless
Vagabond seasonal weather Kansas

Everybody is on the Train
headed to Dreams
100 dollars a ticket
Give me your Wallet
your Sister
your Sins
your nights and your day-shadows bouncing off walls and mailboxes like school-boy toys
your
you're
Insight
Outsight
Farsight
Downsight
Glancing at the peripheral French Decedent girl with black hair
hair black like wet once lit cigarettes

God, smoking a cigar made in The Ol' Great West of timber and the elderly gasping away their lives as a window sits neatly with tundra flowers
and a cacti that never dies
Winter comes in a Van
Full of soup
Full of the Dead Children of Days on in
Full of Dogs with rabies
Full of Cheap women
who gave up on 7:30
and washed their hands in the juices of an Apple Eve sank her yellow teeth into

Savage
Savage

Headlights heading towards Home
Towards Late-Night Television

Oven on

God and Satan
Spooning on the water bed of America
America the great
America the greed
America the want

America the me
you
her
Dog
Pigeon on the side street of NYC push town till suit bye Death

Coffin constructed of Iron and Filled with Wine
Coffin made by a young man sitting in his jacket
smoking a neat cigar
smoking with Gin
Gin
Gin
Gin
The Fireplace is where we may have made Love
But the Heat was ours
and the Torn down back door back yard Tall 100 year old Tree
has left
only a Stump
A beginning of its sprout from a seed
to a Giant
to a home for Birds and Flies and ants and rodents

I am in the Tower
Drinking your Whiskey
Drinking the lipstick of a woman who has nothing to do
so she falls in love with the Shadows of night bricks
of City Street Walls and streets
Swerving
entwining
Curving
Doubting
Ditching

Like love it self
Left out in the Sun
Left with the cacti of Old Age
old hands and old eyes that quiver like melting ice in the 90 degree Texan weather

We run to the fountain of Youth
but the gates are closed
The Pool boy quit his Job
and now the water in contaminated

Drink Vinegar
Drink Chlorine
Clear the mind
the hairs on your chest
the Teeth in between your Chin and Lips

It is no Longer Time
it is no Longer Past
Future
Clean
*****
Washed
Murdered by a knife

It is no longer 1AM
and the Sky wants me to wake up

But the Coffee Machine is crooked and only works if I hold it at an angle

Goodbye Crows of Brooklyn
I'll be on the payphone collect call to subconscious

I'll be on the road
traveling with my hair
traveling with Life
traveling with Destiny and Hope and Emily Tennessee

5 dollars a gallon

The decedent weighed 500 pounds.
Her shape was decidedly round.
When cremation was requested,
Her fat cells combusted
and burned the old funeral home down.

The director ought to have been wary
Of a corpse it takes ten men to carry.
He sought long, in vain,
a home for her cremains.
“A barrel, perhaps?” offered Larry.

Her overweight fatty remains
exploded when touched by the flame.
Some speculate gas
Leaking out of her ***
was possibly partly to blame.
.
So if you’re a “plus” girl or guy
And in the course of events you should die.
Choose the dirt nap, not flame
For your mortal remains
It appears Butterballs shouldn’t fry.

You are the diligently allined space between then and now,
To which I am unlucky to know you exist.

Like time I tend to not know the true way, to see the path as the decedent rivers, placing me boundless advancements in location.

You, an endless train of thought, place me in the constant battle of here and now. As the city we raised blooms of mistrust and attention to self identity.

The time spent knowing only makes it really disappear. The cradle of life steps forward to let you feel insignificance, just as all who truly don't know what day it is. A sheet to start clean.

The East is singing. Like a slug of happy Banshee
at a salacious angle across my decedent pillow, while my phalanges
***** for your waist like a sleepwalking magnet
to the sun-drenched ***** of an impossible Mermaid.
It's Josephine for Breakfast….and all is steam.
And I Amazed.

weeks ago i was beautiful because you owned me.

tonight i am beautiful because you don't know what you're missing.

tonight i will kiss someone
and you will no longer be the only one who has tasted the liqueur of my lips
or perceived the garden that sleeps around my neck like a jewel.

tonight, another man will sample the variety of decedent wonders
that you took from me
forcefully
crushing
the crystals
and ripping
the satin

tonight
someone more gentle than you
will receive
the glory that i have to bestow
the power and pulsating, vibrating music in my walk
in the sway of my full hips

tonight
you
don't
know
what you're missing.

I hate god
He devises strategies to invade
His' home and haven

Weakness being the sole characteristic of son
Constant is the spirit
Strengthening his' decedent onslaught

I cannot win
The Kingdom has come
Without any rain

Holding a crown of stone
Encased in gold
Lined with silver

I have no choice
But to worship
The tyrant who controls bold seduction

Tell me what you see when you look at me?
Is it love or is it pitty?
Or do you see the lion in me.
The king of these concrete jungle
Running through the city like jumanji

Tell me what you see when you look at me?
Do you see a good son in me?
Or a money hungry boy that's selfish and greedy.
Am i done growing up?
Because I stand 5'7
while my pride reached heaven
Tell me is there Greek in my blood
Am i a decedent of Plato.  
Philosophy like Aristotle.

Tell me What you see when you look at me?
Am I the raven?
Am I 22 in my winter stages.
I must be definition of sadness and sorrow.
No more greater damage than the mental.

Tell me What you see when you look at me?
An intelligent mind with a kind heart.
But love and care is a weakness
When everyone else is selfish.
Shedding tears at your grave was my biggest mistake.
Kind heart weren't you,
Good kid weren't you,
Everything everyone wish they had but nobody really wanted you.

Tell me what you see when you look at me?
Do you approve of the new me?
Tell me What you see when you look at me?
As I stood in front of the mirror and wrote this I saw the corpse of the old me.
Isn't that what you see when you look at me.
Just tell me......

My baby has taken a leave from me
My baby does not love me anymore
It's a worry the little notes on walls
It's the paperless kisses in the holes

My baby is just a long lost friend
My baby came to stormy realisations
It's a worry the trendy dreams jotted
It's the plain poetic dellusional tunes

My baby has a frown of grown horns
My baby vacated the walls of destiny
It's a lightening strike of the emotions
It's a collapse of the clouds we laid

My baby let this kiss lead to destiny
My baby let abundance ambulate
It's not what I really wanted to hear
It's decedent of the decanted time

The decedent was in perfect health
As all our tox screens show.
No visible wounds,
No blunt force trauma,
Believe me, We would know.
A “Dear John” letter
Found near the corpse
revealed that she would go.
The coroner ruled
that loss of Love
had proved the fatal blow.

So you like to listen with ears that gander..
To the miraculous sound dance upon the veranda
Through a ferocious pound of advanced verbal stamina
Banging out precocious power like political propaganda
Whilst Sanding down atrocious Towers of satirical working man hours
Miles of hanging around with flowers that gave us powers and led us to pipeline dreams
We thought we was Mario and Luigi it seems...
Cross pollination from a hybrid nation
Brought up on Nintendos and playstations
To then sort out endo and thc equations
Buttercups and Daisy chains utter such hazy frames for stutter much wavy brains that pucker up for glazey games...
A beautiful mistress coming with cuticle dizziness can be fruitful in optical misgiving ness
Goddess awareness was always the fairest nest
yet the one I always invest in is high hats and snares
Always there to ingest a rhymes saps and wears
More playful than a caress of sly ******* stares...
Apples and peaches of bums with succulent pears
Meet battle sound features on drums of reluctant fears
Whilst Cattle bound Creatures hum decedent sneers
And Snapple drowned preachers hear irrelevant prayers

Bionic biopics from ironic orifices
Leave subsonic tonics drawn for moronic sonnets...iconic comics form sardonic harmonics for all the polyphonics with bees in their bonnets
As the Flutterbuys scuttle buy you and I as I utter why do the good girls always make me cry
Yet the bad girls get me high
As they wind and grind
with nature's sweet sunset vibes
it's always a pleasure I treasure to take this fair weather  ride
Whereas the good girls just make me sigh and I wonder why I cry when they say goodbye
maybe good isn't something for the likes of you and I
these are the wonders of why try in an age of Wi-Fi
So we'll stick to our fly by drive by guise of rampage rides through each other's insides..

So come and gather at the miraculous sound dance on the veranda
Go run and gather up haphazardous fondants for a poetic stanza
The sun can hammer us with glamorous fragments for a consciousness Bonanza


A break in the pores is a take from the draws  as something is coming to you from a cause
A screed and a scrape off the times the mind's been in need of a gauze
From the marks she adores from her kitty cat claws
From crimes that hear a applause for the kind of sports only a blind horse could  report
So Don't be mortified or horrified for being glorified through a poet's eyes
it means you've fortified the tortured side of a fantasist sky
which is now where you lie as it's hard to deny you've been immortalized….
  Ooh yes see..that is your prize

I'm fileting this city from the inside out,
She swallowed me whole and this is my revenge,
Stripping her bare from dust and sandy pavement.

Her scaly city of skin drapes well across my shoulders,
And her meat reeks smoked flavor from burning angels
And slow cooked beaches left to simmer under towels.

I'm feasting on the sky as she looks innocently down,
Trails of stars glimmer elsewhere,
Hers are flashing siren calls of life, of life, of life tonight.

A slice of abandoned hotel seasoned salty with sea
Is a decedent ghost of last year's revelry,
Traded like yesterday's lunch in the barb wire schoolyard.

And I'm sorry, because I'm cracking her open and
I'm pouring out her slowly well-tempered marrow
Because all I wanted to find was a singular wishbone.

And between the two of us, if we're lucky,
We can desecrate another burial ground searching,
Searching for life in something that isn't yet dead.

I want to consume this world of yours,
Greedy eyes swallowing the moments of millions,
Digesting the only air you have to breathe.

I want to find a wishbone in her very soul,
Want to hold your hand in my own,
I want to take it, break it, and then make it mine.

I want to
       Take it.
            Break it.
                 And then
                       Make it mine.

clear light skin
dark hair with big curls
he resembled a kid we used to babysit
slight in stature
humble in posture
a look of shock and disbelief
deep seated in his baby face
and bubble eyes
his demeanor saying
“I don’t belong here”
a soft peach colored long sleeved shirt
clean, pressed and tucked in
with pants pulled up
no gangbangers’ stereotype
a picture of innocence
clearly a child
being tried as an adult

I kept close watch
during jury’s selection
with the miracle of real-time captioning
listening with my eyes
darting from screen
to arena’s drama
back to screen
observing potential jurors’ interaction with
defending and prosecuting mouthpieces
body language says so much
trumpeting the seriousness

with capital punishment looming
jurors absorbed spiels
the presumption of innocence
the credibility of evidence
the ability to objectively choose death

I would tell myself
the defendant didn’t just do this
to the decedent
I would tell myself
the defendant did this to himself
I would tell myself
it’s not my job to decide
if he lives or dies
I would tell myself
only to decide
if the crime defines death’s statute
all personal feelings aside
but I’d also tell myself
this is just a kid

thank God
I wasn’t selected

Don’t. call me a poet for my words have yet to form .
Don’t you call me a friend for my friendships art like the weather .
Don’t call me kind as my kindness knows you best ,for  the love in you’re eyes knows no rest .

For you’re thoughts are my ruin gin palaces of a decedent death .
My ruin ?
My ruin is to see you’re tears falling like rain drops ,
like thunder clouds in June .

Don’t call me you’re lover for our love cries out in the night ,
a cold venear of beauty and grace,
where darkness finds no light .

Yet here we stand alone ,
together in June .

Oh Lincoln is flooded with you’re tears ,
and I’m put out by you’re fears .

Ballasts. have swept by you in open seas ,
Men held to you’re riggin ,
have been brought to their knees .


And when you said I love you I mounted my horse and
Galloped away .
Call me what you might ,
a King a prince a fool ,
but to love you forever knows no bounds ,
no words ,
no rules .

If you don't by know as of yet whom I refer to as X'yzzzzzzzzzleeeping, you will soon enuf; is rare that I can go there so well even on occasion for the destruction; 5th dimensional gifts running backwards Houdini by grave doing back-flips for along with the Heart's of David Copperfield types wanting to know how can we pick up a few of these tricks, in other lifetimes my type pick up many places along of course through Kemet's of Egypt, and not so far back but is where I had to go on the endless effort of trying to find the magical child already gone by first of memories and I thought woot hoot I could juggle the woes oh humanity or inhumanity as I see know you know by justification of I don't see any more or less innocence or guilt round here but if there such a great need I when I saw it and figged I cud get through it it was love for wat else could there be and I do be and fill so much very need; but X'yzz....ah 'um once there was Shakespeare an era wrapping up by befalling heads wanting bread of whom exclaimed well if those are their terms and conditions 'Let'em eat cake' ergo and or our newer foundations; but as far as I knew it and I wondered and pondered how why wherefore before someone who seems projections of who dare be Queen or Princess, more than aristocratic the vine of genetics KISS keep it simple silly why war for this nonsensical stuff; it's not the decadent decedent's but off Divine Spirit; well money power sure can keep well hidden powers and you can hmmm get along for a spell but here a spell there a spell with each castle Humpty Dumpty oh well; but now again is the Globe again along with Life the stage we are cast upon truly; and it's time for our own era's Renascence; but last I knew her truly with all gifts 5th dimensional her and her darkly companion too now here they are onto 22 years and still you can't honor it and I guess they just want spouses dead not more than one way 'bout it they are try to out wait and hate me; hahaha but by me I've taught them all they and know matter who they turn against me 10k in a court room dey'd not dare a step by one however remember Howard Hughes I'd say I always love and  though too I am your one and only and best friend indeed even I know I am your enemy, no matter what you say believe think and even feel, but I love to play nice like thrice no mines about it and give all overly good information and fairer than fair warnings; and they gather darkly more about into their hypnotic spells castings, kinda crazy all dead set against me when last to save their own as'ses the're were some identity issues and class type things but they were known as good in the end and yet we ajve yet again to begin; 'dey don'y know themselves not even by here now this lifetime alone, black art denialists wooing all about with sugary treaty's they bark bark but if they bit hte wrong cat here to hard their teeth would fall out; yet and the roots seeded here now for the better part of the show with new edit-eers producers rolling arts in I know I will I can I see these things always before they appear and blood bearing beings near on ain't willing give or take some where and billions of years the dust rocks and trees already are on; and all kinds of well you know  what we've got going round now along with a time to come from the woods of our hidings and out from the fear to be gods birth right citizen we played a lot of silly games of peeka boo pretend ain't heaven ain't here the list is long we know all to well

There it goes again,
The eternal want
No the eternal, unending need.

It stalks my every thought,
Sullies my every waking moment
A rash of good intentions failed.

The hunger is none
The Desire is all I know.

Control and restriction
Fail
Gluttony and weakness
Failing

Why does the butter melting in a hot pan
Become more sensual
Than any *** on Earth
It is my undoing
And my creation

The pants that scream at the stiches
Please stop!
The Magazine that flaunts
Decedent holiday treats!
Tears burning away the ropes of order
The foul gas
A high for the next fight.

Those digits are God send
Values beyond value.
They laugh and tease
Their coldness unchangeable
I never liked maths anyways.

Each mirror lies differently
All more evil than the last
Their silver surface accentuating every pitfall in you

The porcelain beckons
The intoxicating stench of bleach
Comforting
The embrace of understanding.

Shattered glass and shrapnel embed themselves
Into my DNA.
Never forget they say
I won’t. I cannot.

To even begin
With the end
Is an errand
In errantly
Erring
To bend
The mind to
The nuncupative
Limits
Unwritten
Are words
Insufficient
Explicitly
Stated
To explicate
Nothing waits
For you to feel
Copacetic,
At peace
With decedent
Fates sealed
What is real
But a 4 letter
Thought
Counter-measure
Distraught
By the
Fraught with pain’s
Ought to be
Pleasure
Sought out
Like unreachable
Pre-destinations
And preached
As unspeakable
As revelations
Of all it comes down to
Comes back to believing
That here in this moment
Eternally fleeting
Confers any meaning
Upon
What is being?