"halfbreed" poems
the world is a wild and weary place,
fully sunk in spiral ******
fully strummed in skin water waves.
bound by death from the very first verse:
first love.
first this.
go forth my machines, be fruitful and jettison.
color says hang at the edge of our lips.
smell the books.
remind us; books.
& before the big blue vast takes it all, that
sunstruck lomographia light,
transposed no-makeup california girl, she
walks before me along the boulders of the wharf.
real summer breathing.
our bodies, piled
and starbleached ripe. [like heap of buffalo skulls]
maybe then a futuristic dinner, where everyone gathers in floating space pods
singing hymns beneath,
above,
between
the lights and music.
reality is: blacktop shards against my knees,
something burning as it trickles to my chin, man of me
living the city glisten, city green
& pink.
city midnight and barely breathing.
destroyers, we are.
and what? what am i, father? man of industry?
man of workwelded science? secure as the armadillo,
armadillo picket fence.
am i of halfbreed phosphorus?
americana?
built on love and hate and television.
nat geo channel: [a gecko licks dew from its eyes
on the coastal sand dunes of namibia]
money. women. go west young man.
be a hand tightening ribs.
be a quaking echo of mammalian design.
a paradigm of seed my fire.
quest for fire.
for uncut diamond; like foggy strawberry rock in the africa-boy's fingers.
or cut steel; phallus of toyish death between a brazil-boy’s fingers.
pulled teeth; bits of wet fruit in the young afghani’s hand.
& icecream trolley; pedestal etched iron; denim and *** and
microwaves ::::::
white man: what I got ? what I got ?
manifest destiny: gold bricks and beer.
blood soaked socks.
cyprus burnt umbers.
tribes decomposing at the bottoms of styrofoam cups.
like coin-op wormies.
& eighteen inch circumference blades make round rolling high pitched songs deep in the skin of old mother earth.
old baby cakes.
old life in slow motion, all motion, all
of particle cannon treatise.
40 ounce bounce.
watery us
below.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
I find
I do not know
what to think
Despite thinking,
A contradiction I know,
That I know my own mind
I am a walking contradiction
I’m pretty but I’m not
I’m thin but I’m not
I’m happy but I’m not
I’m a filthy halfbreed
The in-between
Half Slytherin, half Hufflepuff
Wondering where it all went wrong
It didn’t go wrong, as such
But perhaps just awry
I’m wondering how
I found myself here
Nice boyfriend
Nice parents
Nice life
Boring, but nice
How did I find myself
Being bored all the time?
I’m thoroughly capable
But a perfectionist too
If I can’t do it first time
It goes on the pile
Of things I can’t do
I expect
One day
I’ll get over this phase
But it could just be
The way that I am
Nice, but boring
Not good at much
But not bad at much
average, standard, middling
I’m stuck in the middle
With no way
Up or down
Nov 11, 2020
Nov 11, 2020 at 10:44 AM UTC
I am a creature of two halves,
A demon of angelic wing,
A siren to my fallen kin,
A song for damaged souls to sing.
I am a creature of two hearts,
A killer with a lover's smile,
A haven to each broken dream,
A stop along their final mile.
I am a creature of two lives,
A hunter hunted by my prey,
A shadow hidden in the night,
A dreamer waiting for the day.
I am a creature of two minds,
A knight that damns each one I save,
A noble beast of sordid deeds,
A curse upon the peace I crave.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
As I march through the gates of hell
Into the fields of harvested evil
The scents of an impure presence
Envelops the nostrils with vile essence
I stride up to the devil himself
"Lucifer.. your reign.. is filth!"
He glares at me with an evil grin
"So you're the one.. giving a new name to sin"
Face to face, eye to eye
This is where our destinies lie
***"Your time is up, your rule is done.
I shall not rest until the throne is won"***
*"You impudent fool, a stained halfbreed.
You're not worthy to lead"*
***"HA...Stained? No, you Satan
Are stained by your love for a human.
Come on father, don't you see
This is inevitable, our destiny"***
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
Small girl up in the tower,
Hidden away to draw out shadows.
Covered in downy fur,
Wintercoat of the halfbreed dragonkin,
Children of moonlight serpents, masters of crystals.
She has never lived among her kin,
The Woman of the Painting with scythe.
No, always she has walked Anor Londo,
Towers of the gods
Alongside her brother.
That is the story, that was.
Now she guards city under siege,
Company captain in name if not spirit,
Singing songs of vengeance
Whose words she does not comprehend.
Yet she sings on for her brother,
The sheltered dragon of the tower,
The bell carrying captain.
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 2:29 PM UTC