"filterless" poems
Even the idea was worthy of a fight
and all too much preparation.
We dolled ourselves up for alienation,
even though the faces present
were so familiar and etched into memory.
Who are you Mr.Cool?
If that is your real name.
Whiskey breath and filterless smokes
only impresses the girls in the movies,
with scripts written by clueless men
like you, who can't supply injury
so they bring only insult.
You are a secretary bird,
a mime, and the copycat kid.
Trying to be a bad boy and hide
amongst the spoiled brats you claim.
Keep on burrowing and severing ties,
ravishing resources leads to ruin.
You say you've heard rumors?
Well, I've heard facts.
I've seen facts!
Your parasitic disguise will crumble
under the weight of your genuinely selfish persona.
While the company I keep will only know
the side you wished to reveal
in front of all the pretty boys and girls.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
Suppose I was more agreeable
Instead of arguing over coffee about politics, religion
*All those subjects deemed taboo that neither of us truly give a **** about*
Pressing my point like daggers against your ribcage
Knowing the sweet spots that make you moan
I would give in, applaud your cleverness, then leave for work
You would be left wondering if you should feel insulted.
of course you should
As usual,my filterless memoirs have become vocalized
******* them back in tight and quick is useless
Once freed, the damage is done
But. they. are . just. words.
the previous statement is ridiculous and the author should be shot
Never could I slice you deeper, **** your private mind or lay your soul bare
Then with the bitter, caustic, truthful edge of my observations
You are just as vulnerable as the rest of them
Barbed wire telegrams
Frozen emails
Ash and arsenic letters
Cut you to the quick
Delightful.
But I like it better when I can witness the damage
Basking in the upper handed afterglow of my superior ability to mortally wound
For no bit of silver that I've ever found
Was ever sharper than the razor edge of my tongue
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 11:01 PM UTC
He orders a plate of his favorite cigarettes
(Lucky Strike) (filterless) (nostalgia)
and a cup of coffee
at his favorite diner across town
that surprisingly hasn't burnt down yet.
He sits at a window booth and
he observes
a couple making lust in the street(Lucky Strike).
He observes
an infant child begging his mother to stay(filterless).
He observes
hummingbirds pecking at the corpse of a dog(nostalgia).
His hat is emblazoned
with valor and bloodshed and death.
His legs are turning into dust
out in the midst of a battlefield
where other soldier's limbs are turning into dust.
Yeah, he fought for t(his) (nostalgia).
Sep 30, 2011
Sep 30, 2011 at 12:27 PM UTC
Puffed his prayer filterless and snorted higher forces
bloodstream is filled with chemical collision courses,
tied to his past which was tied to a gun
el Cucuy smiled with ******* traced in his gums.
He talked to God while a devil manifested within'
tried to **** it with the poison he'd inject in his skin
his best friend a pipe, his wife’s a syringe
head back, eyes close, let the chemicals in
I once had a friend named Ashley,
Guys went into her life, she turned nasty
She dropped,
She cut,
She loved,
She fought,
and ended up with a baby girl named Nancy,
Nestor was always smarter, but he never looked up colleges
He had a ****** up life, and understanding of what knowledge is
Now he lives inside a cell,
which must be hell
Amigo, should of listen to that bell.
Angel was the champion when you gave him a soccer ball,
instead he got drugs in school, and never went to class at all.
Chantelle got ***** a lot, but no one ever seemed to care
She met the church, and made it seemed that God was there,
She was thankful that she found a reason to keep living
A year later killed herself,
I guess she was trying to meet him.
I fight against momentum, but the pendulum wins
Accept your faith, and destiny, your acceptable sins
Don’t ever believe that you're better than him,
The Devil has manifested from within
Those that don't believe the lies and realize that demons lie
Inside these so called angels are the one that angels demonize
But those that don't desalt the word and realize who jesus is and judas is
Are usually the people nailing someone to a crucifix
The root of ruthlessness with evils use of foolishness
Someone tell the doctor there’s a virus in the nucleus
The window to the broken soul resembles that of shattered glass
Some live by the ****** axe, some live by the lonely ranch,
They spent a lot of lives in opposition but their caskets match.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
*You’ve been running underneath the stitches of my baseball caps,
resting in the pockets of my t-shirts, and
etched into the glass of my contacts
where the sun sometimes glares and makes me dizzy.
You left your aroma on my pillows,
scratch streaks on my back,
and chocolate covered bruises on my neck
that make my mouth water every time I look at them.
And out of your mouth
fell raindrops from the storm inside your chest.
Touching my lips
I woke from the dreams of night to the dreams of day,
discovering the softest of gold upon my own.
Smelting fortunes of two destines hot to the touch
as dropping the ball like Auld Lang Syne
but there’s never enough time,
never enough time
looking forward or back
universe stops in its tracks as I look into your eyes.
Sometimes you’re telling me a story
and all I can hear are X’s and O’s.
No pencil or paper but tic-tac-toes tickling mine,
sending shooting stars up my spine.
These crooked feet started from point A and
I’m trying to make it all the way to U.
But if this alphabet becomes too bothersome
then let’s make a language of our own.
Believe me the rest will follow
like we have Chinese finger traps bridging our hands,
when pulling away reminds us how we're a lot like rubber bands.
Piggy-backing through the wild with cat-like vision and dog-like devotion
we’ll learn to speak to our inner animals because
humanity has become a little overrated these days.
So when I find your beast under the sheets
I will pull off its leash with my bear teeth.
Excuse my scrambled tongue for
filterless words can fall off my lips like butter on warm cinnamon toast,
I've never remembered being so hungry for something.
My mouth is beginning to sweat and
you’re mouth held raindrops when we met.
So when your tongue touched mine it sparked the perfect storm.
A hurricane drowning out the past
leaving a life boat for two. Four hands
building a mast, searching for land, gripping the forecast.
Sailing on top of natural disasters,
to find a world better than the one left underneath us.*
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
That smile
That stupid smile
That **** eating grin of yours
Beautiful pearly rounded chompers
Okay, so maybe they are a little yellow
Who’s aren’t?
When one has smoked filterless filters for the last 10 years
What does one expect?
It’s exquisite really.
It brings me to the ground
Mostly from the weak knees that it incites
Nostalgia doesn’t even begin to describe
I’ve seen it in my dreams
It’s been with me for the last decade
It’s something that I will never be able to forget
The largest mouth I ever done seent
3 ounces of liquids in one easy swallow
I could put my foot in there
And there would still be room
Belches and burps
Curses and yells
Loud laughs
Sweet whimpers
All the things that are expelled
Every time a smile appears
A smug smirk
A gushing grin
I smile back
Despite my anger
Or fears
It doesn’t seem to matter how upset you make me
I smile back
The history we share is complex
Predating all the things
All the peoples
All the events
All the places
Spanning such far distances
In space, place, and time
And here we are.
How long have I known that bittersweet smile?
A better question is how long I will continue to be graced with it.
Even if that is shorter than I hope
I’ll still remember.
It’s something I can never forget.
CHEESE!
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
of love being knotted to fear harpooned to hurt ensnared to limitations
i know it exists;
the kind that is
filterless
fearless
free
Mar 15, 2011
Mar 15, 2011 at 9:49 PM UTC
I need to **** myself inside.
Just drinking this bottle to be sterilized.
Feels great not to feel.
To be completely numb.
I am all ****** up inside.
God, I need someone to ****
Just a complete stranger.
No strings attached.
Am I drunk enough?
Good, lets get this started right now!
Don't really care if blonde or brown.
I think I see her smoking at the bar.
"Hello, princess!
What a pretty dress!"
(and awesome *******
8 out of 10, I guess)
"Did someone ever told you
how beautiful your eyes are?
Bright and yet so dark,
like streetlights at night."
Her tongue touched her lips,
another shot of absinth,
lets get some ***** mixed in,
wrecked, like I've never been.
"Boy, you know how to play the game,
lets have a smoke outside" and we went,
half insane with lust, bit afraid.
Drowning in stupidity of youth.
We smoked *** cigars,
talked about gods, religion,
wars, crimes, lies,
electric chair, death...
Trials, nights, dreams,
our bodies touched,
nightmares, blues, insanity,
we ******
Right there,
behind someone's car,
under the stars,
screaming in ecstasy.
Like in some surrealistic film,
went into a public toilet,
the smell of **** and ****
the smell of her filterless cigarettes...
We went to my place,
wanting to **** again,
and again, and again,
endlessly, until we die or faint.
Her naked, trembling, sweating body,
graced by night, graced by all saints.
I scratched her back, bite her neck,
inside, she's all wet.
We danced like mad,
hearts beating fast,
dissolving into each other,
taking the final breath.
The last hug of love,
that never existed,
last kiss in the dark,
and I will leave you there.
I woke up, vomiting.
Feeling so cold, dead.
Took a shower to wash it all away.
All, the memories, kisses and sins.
Counting the scratches,
remembering wild flashes
of yesterday's coma,
tears, tearing heart.
Last night,
fire was burning bright,
but like the cigarette's ash
we fall apart.
There will be no calls,
no pretentious drama of love,
no fading away back into the night,
No nothing, get lost!
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
Sittin’ on the corner of 5th and Life
The place where little children sat and made their dreams
Night stretches on past a horizon of endless street lamps
While whispers of time gone by slink across the flesh on stale city winds
And in blind foresight the stars dim and fade
Fade to black and black on white
Sitting in the place where hopes met dreams
When lovers smiled and kissed while the days were still the days
But those days are gone, long gone
While a sigh may just be your soul escaping
My dreams still breath life into this world of everdying sighs
And the dreams are all we’ve got as the lights sink and the cold midnight calm creeps up your neck
Stale sweat and rusted cans dust the forgotten streets
Their eyes focus on the gray in-betweens and thoughts slow down like stagnant honey dripping from yesterday’s wounds
The taste of gunmetal and filterless cigarettes play on taste buds without a tongue
And now I lay me down to sleep and in these dreams my faith I keep
Of hopes and dreams and days long gone
Of better times and happier hours when we were
Sittin’ on the corner of 5th and Life
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
Whiskey seven methadrine man
slides filterless cigarettes across table
feels weight of .45 in shoulder holster
sneers knowing that between the two of them,
he's the bad one.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
O' beauty,
your portrait is filterless,
perilous gaze,
like a sun grazing fields.
like your dog, I'll heel,
and hold your image,
through illuminated screen.
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC