Blankets, pillows, a black dog, and a cell phone.
Facebook, Twitter, Vine, Gmail, and Instagram.
Shampoo, soap bar, toothbrush,
toothpaste, temperature, and time.
Shaving cream, razor, running water,
advertisements, sensitivity, precision, and cuts.
Burned tongue, empty stomach, loose tie,
missing shirt buttons, beating the clock,
wallet, briefcase, and car keys.
Ballpoint pens, scented trees, fast food wrappers,
loose change, lighters, citations, ***** clothes,
CDs, and napkins.
Red lights, pedestrians, homeless people,
newspapers, billboards, pets on leashes, sewer
grates, crosswalks, skyscrapers, and garbage.
Faxes, printers, memorandums, break room,
prestige, cubicles, customer service, paperweights,
filing cabinets, stocks, and corporate.
Wipers, streetlights, rain coats, dive bars,
and home.
Blankets, pillows, a black dog, and a cell phone.

A candidate from Springfield town
Confused, was wandering all around
He addressed the voters with a grin,
“I do not know what state I’m in,
But we're headed toward election day
And here's a game you all can play!"
The game is "Voting Booth Roulette"
Spin the wheel and place a bet
Put all your money down on me
I think as voters you'll agree
That a vote for me is a **** good bet
Here’s a list of what you’ll get:
Fewer jobs and
Higher taxes
Shredded emails, notes and faxes
Promises
That I won’t keep
Longer work hours
Much less sleep
Construction work on every road
Less money for the schools
More politician pensions, yes
Vote for me, my betting fools."
PwL  5/26/15

Lamppost of crystal's
shadow light
It's me against me
shadow-fight
Looking out my window
I see the field
I am sitting with
my napkin fold.

Words moved__
unbelievably**

Looking at my ring hot steam
Exploded so conceivable
Did I imagine?
So intricate and fine
But invisible, in the tile cracks.
I can see a shadow face.
Please get him out of my South
Hampton house.
He's so out of place.
I never want to see his shadow face.
So swiftly shopping fighting the crowd
hunk's of  *** all over the City

I'm sold congratulations, I win me
Harry Winston diamond.
Jarod was fighting, with my jewel's.
On the titanic vessel
Something shadowing your Pupils

Exploring love at any cost
picking up the artist
historical love fossil?
He  gave her a necklace from
the shadow of his smile
exquisitely detailed tasseled

My lover tilt's me forward.
I go toward the  light Shadow fight
Hansel sometimes loves brutal
So gone Girl Gretel.
Someone is following me,
in my shadow

I was holding, Twin set croissant's
I see his sun-shadow, in the meadow
Hello, it's Me
and my shadow
The cafe black-catsuit,
he's jumping over my latte
So suited like a checkerboard
cake pursuit
So lucky me shadow kiss fairies
and elves.
Something moved me going through
my Carbanet shelf's 

Surprisingly angry. Oh! My
He's hungry
Beastly
Feastly
Shocked Ghostly
The Dutchess of Windsor

All I will be is this shadow
hanging with
  his ***** laundry

Model shoot fighting dart
Victoria secret *******
The best  silken qualities
Breaking into my house.
Was my spouse?
shadowed by too many boxers
GQ models "Guilty "Quarantine"
I'm dreaming White no shadows
of Christmas
Like an oracle of the ornament's
his shadow lip's
looking behind a cup
My mind boiled coffee grind
  every  second, broken record
I am the singer I  say hello shadow
hit my vocal chords made
the record

Robin red breast bird frantic
Sometimes life is cruel desperately
seeking  housewives  of New Jersey
Such high taxes
Getting hooked on Prozac- cheater faxes
The Christmas tree so ******* towers

Too many Jack shining, all writer's
winning April showers
Penpals writers and fighters

 African violets artist booming with
  lover's kisses seem's ingenious
But I'm not listening

His shadow follow's me I fight back
Somehow like I am pacing toward the
    Gotham city bat eye winged the
train track. The speed of heart attack
       "Crystal's Powers Comeback"
  So transparent batman flying so defiant.
Fairies with lucidity his shadow hot crime.
Right  at the same time
How I wished I was overlooking the water,
with my  Key -lime pie.
Please don't  shadow me
Or lie to me
To rob me again.
What's to gain, your invisible men
Met my virginity key.
Looking out my window

Face touched my back
monster vision,
not exactly love infusion.
I felt like I was having a
blood transfusion.

Sun-catcher caught my eye's dreamy
mad-hatter meadow
Mobster Gotti. Shadow proof

what about the book proof.
So vividly,
shooting, at windows,
cherry tree lost its shadow.
Ancestor's sign's leaves fight family
from the distance broken heart.
But Bette Midler sing's, knock's out all the,
shadow's of the earth distance.
One shadow across my opened heart window,
snow blizzard  blew apart ice my shadow fight
I paid the price started sticking
hearing music satanically

Andy Anderson window call's me?
Flicker's at me, it touched a part of me,
how it trembled me,
the familiar beat
I stumbled got down to my feet
looking out my window
Immortal sunlight powerful never
left my sight

Like a Trickster born to create ****; I got another creation for you.
I got this super mood, cause I'm a super cool dude. So many thoughts come to light, I may seem rude and askew.
I'll drop them off on the block waiting for chopping axes, increased taxes, ***** looks, and misplaced faxes.
Take your classes and learn lessons to never remain uninterested. A sparrow flew by after invested lunch one day, to tell me to take action.
Cast your judgmental glances back onto your own ***** and through self-reflecting glasses, you can see a whole new world different from lost passions, stock-market crashes, Uncle Sam's miss-guided pets, and lost rations.
Blast a meta-physical thought through your head with the metaphorical gun. I'd even shout these words out to you from some hill under the sun. Misty-eyed, stunned, and glum, i'm dumbfounded. Your soul full of refracted hate bends light onto some other *******.
Australia has the right idea to use the sun. Have fun, as North Korea tries to blow it up and start a 3rd world war son.
Bang the beat of your ****** war drum, while I sit peaceful and smile. I'll spread love onto the face of a lost mother or child.
With wild courage and crafty style, I'll continue to create poems that astound you, minute after minute, and mile after mile.
Even spun out. I'll present helpful gifts free of charge and just for fun, I'll never give up like some fear on the run.
Stunned and shunned by some nuns with no fun, that shove religion down your throat that destroys imagination by the ton.
I'm even that ******* that likes his hot dog with ketchup AND mustard on the bun.
With common-sense to smash stupidity one-by-one, you sit self absorbed. Open your minds, for there's a whole new world to explore.
Courage, passion, hope, love, and wisdom will be brought back to you I'm sure. Stir the *** that calls the kettle black.
Jack and Jill can help each other flourish? You be the master. Don't look to the sheeple on your left and right for the answer.
I'll continue to spit these poems out on you, like some impending disaster. Many times, have I met the swindler and the shafter.
After a time to reflect, words flow out faster, spilling out new meanings and inspiring new light flashers.
Spend a thousand cashers at your local JEWelry store like it tells you what love means.
I'll take the metaphorical birch-wood bat and metaphorically make the next crime scene.
Lean over for a kiss as I whisper a dream. The people unite in some shallow grave of insight. Put that up on your big screen.
Hollywood creates action and constructs the next pyramid scheme. What if I were to tell you that new energy was sought?
Great archaeological pyramids once thought to be some tombs long ago, carefully built all over the Earth, they're also new sources of energy bro. Utilize this power for good on the soil, instead of destroying entire civilizations, wildlife, and health for oil.
In due time, I'll send sublime rhymes that turn tides and move fibers that coil. These are poetic visions and dreams that unfoil.
I'll continue to annoy the **** out of the dew of the rude. On wet grass, if the shoe fits, fling it. If this poem speaks to you, sing it.
With this final line, I'll let out a sigh and wing it. I'm just that guy. Come and bring it!

why do fellow poets give so much praise to fellow poets?(either they genuinely enjoy the thing or they assume karma and wish for wealthy appraisal aft their own ****** poetry) but my real question, or observation (since im obviously predisposed to my own insight and wish no response be paid even if bearing reason) is: why would ANYONE go out of there way to say to a fellow writer: 'that was amazing, thanks for sharing'??... THANKS FOR SHARING????? REALLY?????!!!!    ....as if the writer heard the voice of god speak to them their revelation of true and higher purpose, whence they quit their job ON THE SPOT!("ive got more IMPORTANT things to do right now! you wouldnt understand mr.boss-man. just go home to your wife and children, and wait for my instructions to guide you."),and, on their righteous march home to share their beautiful soul-dripping piece of literature(soon to be coveted by the heads of all religions)with the rightfully deserving PEOPLE, denied several beautiful women the privilege of touching their selfless masculine form glowing with the sheen of purpose and higher calling(please, PLEASE!! ill do ANYTHING to make love to you sir! ANYTHING!! i have MONEY! i have DAUGHTERS!!!! take anything you want, PLEEEEEEEEEEZ!!! - im sorry miss, but i cant...theres just...something i must do....) and KICKED!! DOWN!! their own front door, bare-footed and blistered, to (not dash, but) FLY to their laptop, ripping off their old lower-calling work-shirt to expose and stretch not only their massive hairless pectorals but their just-now-formed giant shining ANGEL WINGS!!! OH MY GOD!!! and this is just the beginning; deep selfless psychic concentration on the vocal fragments which god sends through uncountable dimensions to our hero of lore has worn our hero out such as would **** any mortal man, but not He. He is DRIVEN by His purpose and GUIDED by His words and immeasurably GRATEFUL for the flesh falling from His now skeletal shell of a ****** pair of hands(once clasped as a cage, but are now splayed apart upon His holy stone, setting free the Truth); in tears with gratitude for the sun-hot pain He receives with every stroke of the key. He cares not for the capital "H" which god hath bequeathed upon Him, rightfully deserving or not. He hath no concern but of His duty to all people. "I care not for the capital 'H' which god hath bequeathed upon me, rightfully deserving or not. I hath no concern but of my duty to all people." -He proclaims in his new booming voice(also bequeathed by the one true god to Him) which sends the walls of His earthly confines CRUMBLING to the floor; His entire city, country, CONTINENT!! leveled and aflame; several million left dead or broken....all without homes, while the tumultuous chaos of children crying for dead parents pierce His ears not, for He is all-consumed by the voice of god, His OWN voice, commanding the very last verse (which He diligently, and with no sense of relief or pride, types onto sacred keys with bones of hands now whiter than the Angels crescent smile) of what will inevitably be..... The New Bible of Hope and Truth and All-Real-Reality, which he faxes telekinetically to the remaining masses that be...His followers...His followers who would bring a long-drawn-out slaughter to their own kin if promised a glimmer of His Truth. For all that He is is All.... HIS WORDS. HIS PURPOSE. HIS BIBLE. HIS NATION!!!!!.....and all you dare say is "that was amazing, THANKS FOR SHARING"?????????????????????????????????????..... of COURSE He wanted to share. it was His DUTY. His LEGEND. His REASON to have ever been BORN!!!..... but you wouldnt understand....NONE of you would!!......................you greedy poets disgust me...

the factory workers of my prefrontal cortex
are on a raucous strike because,
the train chugging them to lunch breaks at my amygdala
has been broken down for days.
and the now strained relay of packets of faxes from this neuron
to the one all the way south on Abbey Lane,
is creating untold pressure for Wernicke -
so forgive me if i ask you to rephrase.

despite the absent hoarded salivating mouths,
the deli in my amygdala keeps on producing
thousands of ******* italian subs,
so now the place floods with grease-sweat from old meat
that would make a carnivore remit...
and it's seeping, leaking poison to Broca,
who is now refusing to explain herself
to the confused face projected on my retina's blurred screen.

the mitochondria housed in my somatasensory
are all comatose from last night's debauchery.
so everything is still,
numb to the touch
blank on the face
dead in the eyes -
unaware of the incessant twitching
that's rolling through my joints, muscles, skin, sore red thighs.

every nucleus of every cell
restarting again, again, again,
but rebooting isn't clearing the glitch in the system.
so just lie here with me,
broken machine to broken machine -
our hearts still glisten.

Master of self contained combust
sustained breath ******
bust pushed back words cut
swords clacked knacks “nails ‘n’ tacks for snacks” lacked facts
Your facets flow-faucets expel droplets: fire
where the burnt bed liar lies crying -- you

Filled glass full brims past with *****
line crossed etch embossed last sonnet promise
kept not-sigh-Stitched inner eyelash
compelled to expel by belch lost items:

sash

bonnet

truncated candles

defunkitated mandibles

Overflowing belly ripens open
bile burns sigils thighs sizzle
urns drizzle ashes past my battle axis
orbiting faxes from your praxis
binds my essence to my existence

Peaceful waters rest
this *** is glass
Forgiven and Clear

Their faces shall soon be riddled with pestulent sores.

I've been writing
Since I was a young kid
Everything I did
This writing isn’t from a school kid
It’s from a real kid
Lets cut to it


They say you ain’t an adult until you pay your taxes
Until working with the faxes
But the thing is
The people who dose it
Don’t use their own thoughts
They use the world's thoughts
You serious?
You're older than me
You say you been through it
So for you, it’s clear to see
But for me, it’s clear to see
Your hiding your problems
Not solving them
You're going to bars
To fall with them
Have *** just to get lost with them


So the question is
Is that what adults do?
Who never work with their wrongs because
You never did
You never even settled it
Go on an say you have no right say this to me
But your on this earth more than me
So you should be the light to see
But your not
So I jot
This to show you that you never learn
I don’t get it
It’s pathetic


Seems like the older you get
The younger you get
That doesn't work for me
See I mend my problems
You never did
See the older I get
The wiser
I work
You never did

Who would have thought a bad tragedy
Delusion it seems, people's almighty
In a glimpse of time fire is caught
The flames are running, the air is cold

The air scatters the peace
Falling in rocks, no more keys
People are running, "WHERE IS MARY?"
They're holding hands, God,is this necessary?

Unreached seems the sea
They baptize the risk "unforeseen"
Arbitrary soil,blaming the taxes
Hopes are smoking, no salvation faxes

Time to mourn, give them three days
Where are the trees, kids in this place?
There's only air, ash and agony
Cameras are crying, WHAT an irony.