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Odysseus needs a job he calls pima community college art department chairperson sends her his resume she does not respond after a week he catches her on phone she says he lacks proper credentials laughs to himself his whole life never worked lucrative or reputable position gets job working at thrift store wacky group of coworkers customers store frequently smells like public latrine job expires after 7 weeks he gets better paying job working at record exchange Odysseus always loved music everyday he learns new artist or band his coworkers are at least half his age they pester him about being slow on keyboard he never learned to type neither he nor his generation could have foreseen future would revolve around keyboard he plods on register keys people smile politely kids he works with fly fast making many keyboard mistakes November 29 2001 george harrison dies of cancer he is 58 years old Odysseus recognizes he is from past world different era of contrasting standards ‘80’s behavior is totally unbefitting let alone ‘60’s beliefs it is 2002 and one badly chosen word is sure to send someone flying off the handle he watches his language carefully co-workers mostly born in 1980’s grew up in 1990’s they live indifferent to hopelessness he struggles to bear none of them believe in higher power music is their religion he wonders what their visions concerns for humanity are? they seem addicted to consumption as if it is end in itself he questions what is hidden at root of their absorption? loneliness? despair? apathy? absence of vision? where is their rage against social conversion current administration? he warns them about homeland security act privacy infringement increased government secrecy power they shrug their shoulders why aren’t they looking for answers? why don’t they dissent? do they care where world is going? he realizes they will have to learn for themselves few coworkers read literature or know painters philosophy their passions are video games marijuana “star wars” most of them are extremely bright more informed than he often Odysseus needs to ask questions they know answers to right off the bat he is like winsome uncle who puts up with their unremitting teasing “hey you old hippie punk rocker get you fiber in today? stools looking a little loose! peace out old man” in peculiar way he finds enough belonging he so desperately needs they tell him stories about their friends *** addictions eating disorders futile deaths he is bowled over by how young they are to know such stuff job includes health insurance which is something he has not had since Dad was alive having some cash flowing in he buys laptop computer with high-speed connection cell phone trades in toyota for truck opens crate of writings he abandoned in ‘80’s begins to rewrite story sits blurry eyed in front of computer screen his motivation has always been to tell truth as he knows it he wonders what ramifications his labor will bring positive or negative results? he guesses his story will sound like children’s fable in stark brutality of distant future october 2002 3 week ****** spree terrorizes maryland virginia  district of columbia 10 people killed 3 critically wounded police believe white van responsible october 24 man and 17-year-old boy arrested in blue chevy caprice juvenile is shooter assailants linked to string of random murders including unsolved shooting of man at golf course in tucson Odysseus mentions incident at work speaks of prevailing terror madness in america co-workers kid tell him he is crazy “did you see a white van parked outside the store Odys?” they seem desensitized to increasing national atmosphere of anger panic or perhaps they are overwhelmed by weight trauma of modern life lie after lie prevailing  havoc slaughter make for dull numbness in world they know suicide is compelling option december 22nd 2002 joe strummer dies from heart failure at age 50 Odysseus’s eyes wet he adored the clash everything they stood for loved joe strummer and mescaleros he plays “global a go-go” over and over listens sings along with first track “johnny appleseed” march 2003 president bush launches attack against iraq united states seems drunk with “shock and awe” zealous blind patriotism many people politicians countries around globe question unproven line of reasoning saddam hussein possesses “weapons of mass destruction” Odysseus gripes “not another **** vietnam” record company allows employees to check out take home used product Odysseus stopped watching movies in 1980’s he has lots of catching up to do particularly likes “natural born killers” “american history x” “american ******” “fight club” “way of the gun” “******” “king of new york” “basquiat” “frida” “*******” “before night falls” “quills” “requiem for a dream” “vanilla sky” “boys don’t cry” “being john malkovich” “adaptation” “kids” “lost in translation” “25th hour” “28 days later” “monster” “city of god” “gangs of new york” “**** bill” list goes on perfect circle becomes his favorite band followed by tool lacuna coil my morning jacket brian jonestown massacre flaming lips dredg drive-by truckers dropkick murphys flogging mollies nofx stereophonics eels weakerthans centro-matic califone godspeed you black emperor magnetic fields fiery furnaces dresden dolls smog granddaddy calexico howie gelb sufjan stevens warren haynes dax riggs john vanderslice alejandro escovedo sean paul elephant man bjork p. j. harvey ani difranco aimee mann cat power sophie b. hawkins kathleen edwards mia doi todd kimya dawson regina spektor carina round neko case fiona apple nina nastasia beth gibbons mirah rasputina dr. dre talib kweli immortal technique murs slug atmosphere trick daddy eazy-e tricky list goes on october 21 2003 elliott smith commits suicide stabbing 2 wounds into his chest Odysseus thinks about music when jimi hendrix stood up at woodstock deconstructing national anthem on guitar it took courage when punk emerged with ugly screechy sounds attempting to divorce itself from melodious harmonies of 1970s complacent crosby stills nash  the dead kennedys and *** pistol did not pander to conventional commercial success what they performed were desperate gutsy songs trying to reclaim music rock’n’roll is no longer about inventing instead it imitates its glorious past hip-hop and rap come nearest to risking rebellion but are caught in gangsterism infantile self-adulation no longer does music offer vision of what is or could be instead it conjures looping escapism from hopelessness of modern life he continues working at record shop for several years store contains every genre of music cinema he grows weary of retail sales weary of higher-ups constantly changing rules dictating what to do head manager is manipulative drama queen thrives on crisis once in private admits stealing from company Odysseus nods not knowing what to say head manager works Odysseus hard keeps him down atmosphere of conspiracy betrayal hang at start of each day assistant manager routinely taunts berates bullies teases regularly calls Odysseus “dumb-****” or “****-up” other times laughs after goading Odysseus to flinch eventually bully backs off and they become friends retail pushes Odysseus to brink of misanthropy corporation requires all employees to exercise overt courteousness while serving a public of disrespectful gang bangers demanding “show me black market brotha lynch mac dre why ya godda keep dat **** behind da counter? dat’s ****** up hey old man i ain’t got all day” it always amazes him when shoplifter is caught with product stuffed down his pants thief blatantly states “i didn’t do it i don’t know how that got there” thanksgiving through christmas to new years is most swarming stressful he feels like automaton greeting customer scanning product looking at screen to see if price agrees with product typing money amount counting money into drawer counting money out handing change to customer handing customer product receipt next customer cockroach capitalism packs of masses line up in endless stream of needs stupid remarks job also involves trade appraising condition value resale probability of cds dvds video games tapes vhs vinyl news of  iraq war gets dismal mounting civilian casualties suicide bombers hostages beheadings beginning of 2004 reports of torture ****** psychological abuse **** ****** ****** of prisoners at abu ghraib prison guantanamo bay white house cover-ups denials growing insurgency increasing u.s. body count other costs he thinks about men and women who are so much braver than him then comes re-election and lavish republican parties parades cheney rumsfeld tom delay and whole regime smirk portentously on tv none of it makes sense anymore “we the people of the united states” what does it mean? the dreams and aspirations of his generation have long since faded away he is citizen of forgotten past current world is barbaric place he barely recognizes there are real pirates with machetes rocket launchers on the seas big drug corporations hiding harmful findings kidnapped children abandoned children crooked politicians corruption at every level of society horrifying stories daily ******* priests slave markets extreme heinous cruelties abruptly everyone is acknowledging society is worsening life is not the same he does not understand people and certainly does not understand america or the world he remembers when all could be so good modern existence has turned everything into madness what happened to lessons of history? it is as if Odysseus fell asleep and when he woke everything is changed he is mistaken about what he thinks he knows feels pity for people america pity disgust sorrow he misses his dog
Warren Jun 2019
This is the story of Jeni Haynes, whose father inflicted horrific physical and ****** abuse on her from the age of four years old. As a result she created over 2000 alter egos to get her through it.
This is my account written with respect and love as  I feel she would tell it, just because some stories deserve a voice.

Dedicated to Symphony,
- For saving my life.

’I am an army,
A force of alter egos forged from the furnace of necessity.
Banded together in permanent transience,
Called forth by the voice purity.’
————————-
I am Symphony,
I’m 4
I came to Jeni first to comfort her through the pain,
Through the torture and torment of lamented youth,
I sang songs to mask the sounds of abuse,
Turned her face inwards,
Jeni found me because she needed me,
But I was not alone.
————————
There’s Judas and Muscles,
There always here,
Alters of Jeni’s yesteryear
‘We are hundreds,
thousands - an army to face,
We’re her solace,
Some of us permanently echoing inside,
some of us hide,
Some of us have a singular purpose,
All of us have the same intention,
To protect our Jeni without exception.’
—————————-
I am Jeni,
I have MPD  so they tell me,
DID is what it’s meant to be,
But I’m just me !
No one ever told me there shouldn’t be more,
Personalities and people behind the door,
So it’s perfectly normal inside my mind,
Just not what you would expect to find.

They call it abuse but it was way past that,
I cowered and cringed,
Paralysed with fear,
Praying he wouldn’t hear,
It was unavoidable,
Inescapable,
I couldn’t prevent it,
I was incapable,
Cried myself dry,
It was torture,
Repeated and repeated and repeated,
Through every sense,
The smell, the taste, the feeling and the pain,
So much pain,
Then Symphony came and things changed.
She brought with her so many,
An army to protect me inside,
Where I could hide,
They took it in turns.
Little Rikki was laid with the task,
It would brake his heart apart,
Each time he would send someone in my place
To face the horrors of my father to face,

And they did suffer,
Every alter, every time,
They passed the poisoned chalice between themselves,
Not letting it near me,
Keeping me inwards so I couldn’t see,
Without their sacrifice,
I don’t know where I’d be.
Crazy maybe.

There was Jay who spoke truth,
Kept me in line all the time,
Tried to protect me,
Run Jeni run
But he couldn’t protect me,
It would always be done.

They weren’t in my head - they were me,
Every one you could see,
I would let them step forward,
They would fulfil their need and then they’d step back,
It’s as natural as that.
It’s survival,
My solution,
A forced evolution of spirit and mind,
I was forced to find.
I’m not ill,
I’m just different.
This is who I am.
I am Jeni Haynes,
We all are in a roundabout way.

I asked people to help,
Told those of rank,
Drew blank after blank,
I’d accused my father of horrific acts,
Given the facts it’s not a topic that attracts.
So it was on me.

I studied,
One day they would see,
I subjected myself to the learn to have power,
In words and knowledge,
These are the weapons of modern times,
And I needed them more than ever.
I studied  psychology, Justice and crime,
Then I tried again.
This time I spoke their language,
I broke their arguments and lay waste to their  fears.
This time they would listen,
And they did.

I am strong,
Battle worn and worthy,
I have power more than most,
I could withstand pain,
Rained upon me over years of suffering,
I had focus,
Honed from an army that knew where to look,
And I had help,
We were heard,
We won our day in court,
That man that called himself my father,
Extradited from his exile,
Brought forth to testify for the wrongs he’d committed.
My 2hrs in court validated my years of silent abuse.
We spoke individually with one voice,
No plan,
I let those with the answers take the stand,
6 came forward to help me beat the one,
And they did,
He confessed,
Finally my fight could be laid to rest.

This is my story,
*****, buggered and systematically abused,
This is my story,
Of Symphony finding me broken and bleeding,
This is my story,
Of waging war against my father,
This is my story,
Of taking back me.
All of me,
Every part of me,
Until finally - I could see.

Jeni Haynes,
“May you find the peace you deserve.”
ERR Jun 2013
Speed up, said Angel
Don’t pump it, smooth
These people cruise, I drive

Over six, wide and heavy tatted
Bald head cold eyes

Pay attention, stupid
He tapped log ash into
Cigarette box trash
Hands rugged and rough
Great deserts full of highways
Barren, arid, brutal

He held Lane’s finger in a vice
Casually, without effort as he
Squirmed and wormed and begged, full
Body efforts failing
H-drained skeleton unable to muster muscle

Angel loosened his grip, to allow
Some circulation mercy (stay on that positive ****)
We dodged Victoria crowns and
Made smoke monsters with our lips and
Tongues, watched our sins cloud-crafted
And float fade privately

Want a clam strip? Said Lane
Want a granola bar, want a cookie?
Want a strawberry?

Ya, no, sure, maybe later
We stopped for some disgusting sidegrub
And pressed on into the mountains

Talented feline peaks I peep, winding
Green tree ever-stretch left-right-wise
Central concrete snake swirls higher
Our cabins line the rocky river trail
We joke about fighting bears

The thugs bunch and separate
Breakfast with Chewbacca
The wooks sit in sun, tangled
Wool clump hair strands smell

Angel had complained about taxes
Uncle Sam taking perks
The hippie wooks against
Government and Blue Law
From behind cigarettes (**** jar [stuffed])
Injured on the job, collecting
Unemployed, collecting
Tripping, bumming, badly strumming,
Hustling, collecting

Lisa is a toothpick and she has the blowsy jitters
Moon pupils grind tooth, sniff nose hard ball hitter
Saw no shame in her strip pay
I would vouch for her when they tore apart her room

Hipsters half trying and
Lumberjack draft drinkers
No place for thinkers or clean
Shady music belly festival
Drone guards drain cancer
From lit sticks for nic fix
Ritual, and bored means

Twelve hour rain sessions
Can I see your pass?
At my gate

A questioning look
I’m Warren Haynes, he said(?)
Nice to meet you, said sheep
Oh, and Les may come
Walking in here

Terry stood with me through the torrential
The first crowd name I learned
Revisit on the daily
Easy spotted in the thousands
I made stupid jokes
And she
Laughed
At them

The final night of jam
There was sun, there were stars
In my new backstage post I heard Phil and his friends
I made every bus, some
Friends, shot ****
The time type where nothing’s wrong
Volunteers brought water
Marshal’s girl, a chicken kebab
No sitting on the job!
From crowd Terry jester
A stranger gave a moonshine gift
Another, a hug and said well worked

A tie blue dye hippie dippie
Looked at a beautiful woman in a dress
I would totally **** that
*******
Disgusted

Even he can’t damper
At night I hear a sweet beat
A boots and cats boxer master Rob
The Mortar Mouth
And DJ Caesar
Laid back tracks collaborated
As the Tree narrated
We three held the jam
Classic, dream fulfilled
(Dead ***)

Chris shows me nerve ache
In a once stabbed high cheek bone
We guard the stage against
Ghost town robbers trudging sticky fingered

Mister Chicken sips from his confederate
Mug and sloppily asks to sneak, surprising kind
He brings me water and a meal
I pretend to check his wrist and
He hops the wrong fence

The Celtic tattoo on
Mike’s neck reads
My brothers mean everything to me
Latin ink, he tells me of the
Shapely thing in loose skirt
Up the stairs, not a thread
He stands all day on a
Broken back, brightens
Gloomy shifts with smiles

Andy loves his family
And promises to sing his
Grandmother’s favorite
Song when she dies
Every note he practices
Is a jagged pill to swallow
His voice haunts like
Newspaper faces
Or last words whispered

I watch the sun rise as
Magenta melts the mountain mist
And drift off counting constellations
YoungGentleman17 Dec 2014
Family what family mane me my brothers and mom been struggling for years
When we needed yall yall disappered
Most of them dont even calls
But feel guilty once one falls

I can honestly count maybe two handfulls of people as my real fam
While the others Prolly wouldn't give a ****
What kind of family talks bad about others
Like my mom for example people in the family judged her along with me and my brothers
To those who did it remember God dont like ugly

Yall better learn soon
We struggled our whole life
We never had the silver spoon
To whom reads this i dont mean to sound mean
But i got a sister cousin and relatives i haven't even seen

To my brother L Christopher Haynes-Rhodes speedy and sisters Ashley Rhodes maury and LarChelle Haynes we know our other mom to faces pain but as i write this poem i want us to build upon each others struggle for a happiness to regain its not like the others really care we dont even have get togethers nor reunions to

Smh we gotta do better as a family right now my mom has been in the hostpital for nearly a week for the ones Who came to see her who texed her and sent gifts i thank you all it's good to see that a small amount of people care and even the ones who said they ll pray as well
To everyone who is family on my mom and dad side if you can i want you all to share this if not spread the word  because this is not only a poem but this is a message

The day we become one whole will be a moment. Of truth i dont know how long it ll take but the only way that ll come true is if we all be real with one another besides fake thats all i have to say
I thought a family was suppose to bring happiness seems like mine is the opposite
judy smith Jul 2016
THE CROWD at Raf Simons’s Spring 2017 menswear show at Pitti Immagine Uomo in Florence seemed more uptight than usual, yet that’s exactly how Mr. Simons intended it: Scattered among the wound-up throngs of editors, buyers and gate-crashers were 266 secondhand mannequins, some seated stiffly, others frozen into upright positions, all clothed in archival pieces from his 21-year career in fashion. Though the dummies were arresting, the Belgian designer, 48, later downplayed this unconventional look back. “The pieces weren’t chosen with a certain kind of curatorial intention,” said Mr. Simons. “I didn’t want it to look like a typical kind of retrospective.”

Mission accomplished: Between the spooky setting in a cavernous former train station, the wooden mannequins and his decision to show “off calendar” (forgoing his usual Paris Fashion Week time slot), it all felt more like a Robert Gober art show than a museum tribute. Mr. Simons is, after all, still hard at work, his every move watched by industry insiders amid speculation that he may be joining Calvin Klein—after concluding 3½ years as creative director of Christian Dior’s women’s collection, in 2015.

Mr. Simons continued to riff on his signature elegance in his Pitti Uomo menswear show. The cornerstone of the collection was a series of loose, photo-enhanced shirts, knits and jackets created in collaboration with the Robert Mapplethorpe Foundation: voluminous pieces emblazoned with images of Debbie Harry or eroticized flowers by the photographer, who died in 1989.

Much like his designs, our chat with the usually circumspect Mr. Simons reflected a broad array of preoccupations and influences. He was outspoken about tailoring (“so much bad suiting out there”) and his design process (“no system, no rules, no structure”) but also about mobile phones, the African countryside and ’70s dance music.

One of my favorite spots in the world is: Puglia in Italy. There’s a house by the sea I go to, and outside, it’s just a horizon line. It’s that feeling of eternity: It allows you to think. If you put me there, I wouldn’t need love or anything anymore.

Between the country or the city, I prefer: the country. I live in Antwerp, a city that’s kind of like a village.

A place I’d like to visit again is: Kruger National Park in South Africa. It’s mind-blowing how it sits so far away from anything you’ve ever experienced in a city. There were no people, no proof of human life, just animals and animal behavior. It’s survival of the strongest, which is fascinating.

One thing I’ve had forever is: A yellow T-shirt with a black print on it from the movie “The Shining” that goes way back to when I was a teenager.

If I could be granted one wish, it would be: solidarity. That may sound emotional—politically emotional—but with everything that’s happening, I wish everybody would just let each other be in peace.

A current band I love is: The **. At first they seemed weird but they overwhelm me—massively—all the time with their intelligence. They may be the group that’s had the most impact on me in the last five years.

An old album I still listen to is: Kraftwerk’s “The Man-Machine” [1978]. My 1998 show was called “Kraftwerk” because I had four boys in red shirts in it who looked like replicas of the band members.

If I could tell my 20-year-old self one thing, it would be: grab and protect love when you find it. Cherish it, focus on it, concentrate on it.

My dream client would be: anyone, really. When I design, I am thinking about a lot of people, not just one. It’s more about connecting to a certain kind of generation or a certain kind of person that will connect to what we do.

I always wear: Adidas Stan Smiths. I have had periods where I only wore Stan Smiths, maybe from age 15 until I was 25.

The place that most inspires me is:everywhere. Some people have to go for a swim or have a holiday to be inspired, but for me, it’s there when I walk out the door.

My favorite movie directors are: Stanley Kubrick, Todd Haynes and Alfred Hitchcock.Kubrick’s movies are so visually striking, especially “2001: A Space Odyssey” and “Eyes Wide Shut.”

I collect: art. I started collecting more than 15 years ago. Cady Noland, Richard Prince,Cindy Sherman, Isa Genzken, Rosemarie Trockel, Charlie Ray, Robert Gober are artists that have made a huge impact on me on all levels, emotionally, conceptually, visually.

The hardest part of a man’s wardrobe to get right is: the tie and suit. [There is] so much bad suiting out there in terms of fit, style and fabric. So, when I design, I don’t start with fit or fabric, but with meaning. The phrase “suit and tie” has a special place in our vocabulary.

One of my favorite books is: The Christiane F. book [“Zoo Station: The Story of Christiane F.”—about a teenage ****** addict]. The movie [1981] was an amazing interpretation, but the book is more striking.

I feel most proud about: simple things like being able to handle love and friendship and family. Or taking care of my dog. Of course, I do also feel proud of what I do.

I am a big fan of: furniture design, especially French or Swiss designers such as Jean Royère, Pierre Jeanneret and Jean Prouvé as well as Japanese-American designer George Nakashima. I love how beautifully designed furniture sits in history—it’s unpretentious.

The one thing I always travel with is: my sweatshirt from Vier, a skateshop in Antwerp. “Vier” is the Dutch word for four. I always take it on flights because I refuse to put on the pajamas they give to you.

I wish I could always be with: my dog, Luca, a Beauceron, who behaves like everything except a dog—more like a cat or a frog. She’s still a baby.

The one thing I wish didn’t exist is: mobile phones. I am old enough to remember how it was before them. There was something much more beautiful about not having one. We communicated in such a different way with each other.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2016 | www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
BarelyABard Jan 2013
I must say that these last couple months have been interesting since I found this site.
It has given my an inspiration to let more of my words out and to search for all of your words.
So far I am amazed.
We won't save the world but at least we can show how similar and different, light and dark we are.
We are the soul of this age and I don't want a single person here to foget that.

Keep up bearing your souls.
We all have something to say.

And as always I will bear my soul to you as well butl leave it up to the viewer what might be seen.

Your lover, brother, and other,

Joshua Haynes
BarelyABard Feb 2013
Sigh.
This is hard.


My eyes are getting heavier with each passing day and the boy I see in the mirror
looks almost like a man.
Almost.

I am thankful for all the unkind words.
They made me strong and they made me carefree.
But when the lights go off and piano notes dance around my room the sheets feel lonely and my room feels cold.
When I close my eyes, my fingers are running along your cheek and my lips are brushing your nose.
You're not here.
I don't even know...

who
you
are.
But I hear myself whisper your name.

I know that somewhere in the universe, pieces of our souls flown through lonely tears and childhood wishes are are dancing with one another in the rain.
...kissing after dinner...
..making love after a fight...

I am so madly in love with you and I have no idea who you are.
Whether you even exist at all yet or whether I pass you every day.

I make no promise that I will caress your skin.
I make no promise that I will hear you laugh.
I make no promise that I will ever find you.


But I promise to always keep looking,
so keep your eyes open too...



With all my love whoever you are,

Joshua Haynes
BarelyABard Aug 2013
A bird dropped down out of the sky and landed in my head, and though I listened as it sung, I couldn't fathom what it said.
I'm sure it spoke of hungry fiends
wishful things
and childish schemes.
But deep within those singing eyes were vast and universal dreams.

Then he flew away in music and I just listened to the silence.


**Newly established Sailor Joshua Haynes here by the way. It is good to be back
BarelyABard Feb 2013
I wonder at times what would happen if I were to suddenly die and someone found this journal, found my words.
I wonder whether they would even read it... would they find it interesting?
I bet they would think, "What an angry and cynical little boy this writer must be."

I guess that what I ay can be a little rough around the edges but that is only because life can be the same way. I look through my own words from years before to now and try to find exactly what I am trying to say. My words bounce around at times building up on each other or breaking down.
Is there a method to my madness or is it just ranting drifting around a smouldering fire?

Maybe when I am older I can look back and someone much wiser and well along in their years will understand and nod their head slowly in compassion for a twisted soul stumbling deaf, dumb, and blind in a world that cannot be understood and a universe that forgets to place flowers on your grave.


-Joshua Haynes
YoungGentleman17 Mar 2014
My whole life I was the most talked about person there was
I was talked about by people by co workers by friends
I thought one day it would all end
I laugh and smile not to show how I truly feel around people
It not like anybody will care anyways
I was always judged throughout my life In school
And yet they still judge me to look cool
My whole life people told me I'm nothing I'd always be considered lame
So now I've gaven up on t popularity and fame
I feel there's no reason for me to be in this world
I laugh and feel sad as I wath all my cousin and brothers get girls
Nobody understands me not my brothers and even my mother
I guess that's why it shows from others
Nobody understands  my pain my kife my struggles and more
I'm an angel that's fallen that can no longer sore
Nobody understands me only because I'm different
Different by how I act and how I look
I was the kid who had nicknames still today its the same
I still have pain inside
But out of every hurt I felt it never ruined my pride
So that part is good
My Name is Louis Haynes
And I'm misunderstood
Tal Haynes May 2016
You are fradulent
You explointed  me
I thought I was liking you but now I’m far from it
Were something else...
Were divergent and dissimilar
You talk behind my back
Your shady and fake almost that of a plastic tree
50 cents for three or maybe even free
Your not worth it !
Your two faced and I don’t like both parts of you
Its sad because I let you see all parts of me
I guess you didn’t like what you saw
Was there a flaw ?



By: Tal Haynes A.K.A Tummycakes555
They said to buy local so I tried to buy Dave Cull’s lung.
But he wouldn’t sell it.
They said to buy local,
So I tried to buy Michael Woodhouse’ heart,
But it was out of stock.
The shop girl told me she would check out the back.
They said to buy local so I tried to buy Lee Vandervis’ hands,
He said he’d sell them to me but I tried them out and they had no grip.
The said to buy local so I tried to buy Harlene Haynes nose,
But it was already in something else.
(she told me it was malicious of me to ask and threatened me with defamation)
They said to buy local so I tried to buy the Highlanders cauliflower ears,
so I’d have enough florets for a salad,
But it turned out they weren’t organic, so I left it.
They said to buy local so I tried
They said to buy local so I tried
They said to buy local so I tried
And I tried
And I tried
And I tried

They said to buy local
-but between the dilapidated hospital and the drafty-damp flats there were no good organs to purchase.
YoungGentleman17 Aug 2014
Look I ve not only wrote this to catch your attention
I ve written this to let you know when nobody's there just look for me
Then you'll see,
What a real friend is
I care for those who I'm cool with and even the ones I'm not cool with
Why,
Cause this is me
I stand for louis haynes and nobody else
No,
Words will never bring me down again
If life was a checkered flag
We all should go for that win
And I guess that'll be just enough till it ends
Tal Haynes Apr 2016
Don't let them get you
You run that's all you got
But eventually you'll need rest
eventually you'll get caught
And you need air and you're hacking on breathing
no gold metal your receiving
There's no finish line so who's to win
I don't know but there's a "begin"


You let them get you
You ran that's all you had
It was driving you mad
But eventually you needed rest
eventually you got caught
the start was the shot
And you needed air and you're still hacking on breathing
no gold metal you received
You feel as if you had been thieved  
There's no finish line so who's to win
I don't know but there was a "begin" ...


By:Alex Haynes
A.K.A Tummycakes555
Travis Green Jun 2020
Let’s pay homage to many innocent black lives that were taken by
the corrupt system:  Martin Luther King Jr.  Malcom X.  Emmett Till.  George Stinney.  Will Brown.  Sandra Bland.  Trayvon Martin.  Ahmaud Arbery.  Breonna Taylor. George Floyd.  David McAtee.  Natosha “Tony” McDade.  Yassin Mohamed.  Finan H. Berhe.  Sean Reed.  Steven Demarco Taylor.  Ariane McCree.  Terrance Franklin.  Miles Hall.  Darius Tarver.  William Green.  Samuel David Mallard.  Kwame “KK” Jones.  De’von Bailey.  Christopher Whitfield.  Anthony Hill.  Eric Logan.  Jamarion Robinson.  Gregory Hill Jr.  JaQuavion Slaton.  Ryan Twyman.  Brandon Webber.  Jimmy Atchison.  Willie McCoy.  Emantic “Ej” Fitzgerald Bradford Jr.  D’ettrick Griffin.  Jemel Roberson.  DeAndre Ballard.  Botham Shem Jean.  Robert Lawrence White.  Anthony Lamar Smith.  Ramarley Graham.  Manuel Loggins Jr.  Wendell Allen.  Kendrec McDade.  Larry Jackson Jr.  Jonathan Ferrell.  Jordan Baker.  Victor White III.  Dontre Hamilton.  Eric Garner.  John Crawford III.  Michael Brown.  Ezell Ford.  Dante Parker.  Kajieme Powell.  Laquan McDonald.  Akai Gurley.  Tamir Rice.  Rumain Brisbon.  Tony Robinson.  Mario Woods.  Quintonio LeGrier.  Gregory Gunn.  Akiel Denkins.  Alton Sterling.  Philando Castile.  Terrance Sterling.  Terrence Crutcher.  Keith Lamont Scott.  Alfred Olango.  Jordan Edwards.  Stephon Clark.  Danny Ray Thomas.  Dejuan Guillory.  Patrick Harmon.  Jonathan Hart.  Maurice Granton.  Julius Johnson.  Jamee Johnson.  Michael Dean.  Keith Childress.  Bettie Jones.  Kevin Matthews.  Michael Noel.  Leroy Browning.  Leroy Nelson.  Miguel Espinal.  Nathaniel Pickett.  Tiara Thomas.  Cornelius Brown.  Jamal Clark.  Richard Perkins.  Michael Lee Marshall.  Alonzo Smith.  Anthony Ashford.  Dominic Hutchinson.  Lamontez Jones.  Rayshaun Cole.  Paterson Brown.  Christopher Kimble.  Junior Prosper.  Keith McLeod.  Wayne Wheeler.  Lavante Biggs.  India Kager.  Tyree Crawford.  James Carney.  Felix Kumi.  Asshams Manley.  Christian Taylor.  Troy Robinson.  Brian Day.  Michael Sabbie.  Billy Ray Davis.  Samuel Dubose.  Darrius Stewart.  Albert Davis.  Salvado Ellswood.  George Mann.  Jonathan Sanders.  Freddie Blue.  Victo Larosa.  Spencer McCain.  Kevin Bajoie.  Zamiel Crawford.  Jermaine Benjamin.  Kris Jackson.  Kevin Higgenbotham.  Ross Anthony.  Richard Gregory Davis.  Curtis Jordan.  Markus Clark.  Lorenzo Hayes.  De’Angelo Stallsworth.  Dajuan Graham.  Brandon Glenn.  Reginald Moore.  Nuwnah Laroche.  Jason Champion.  Bryan Overstreet.  David Felix.  Terry Lee Chatman.  William Chapman.  Samuel Harrell.  Freddie Gray.  Norman Cooper.  Brian Acton.  Darrell Brown.  Frank Shephard III.  Walter Scott.  Donald “Dontay” Ivy.  Eric Harris.  Phillip White.  Dominick Wise.  Jason Moland.  Bobby Gross.  Denzel Brown.  Brandon Jones.  Askari Roberts.  Terrance Moxley.  Anthony Hill.  Bernard Moore.  Naeschylus Vinzant.  Tony Robinson.  Charly Leundeu “Africa” Keunang.  Darrell Gatewood.  Deontre Dorsey.  Thomas Allen Jr.  Lavall Hall.  Calvon Reid.  Gerdie Moise.  Terry Price.  Natasha McKenna.  Jeremy Lett.  Kevin Garrett.  Alvin Haynes.  Artago Damon Howard.  Tiano Meton.  Andre Larone Murphy Sr.  Leslie Sapp.  Brian Pickett.  Frank Smart.  Matthew Ajibade.

There are so many more that have died at the hands of the prejudice system.  All of you will never be forgotten.  Your legacy will forever live on.  Rest in Paradise to the fallen angels.
YoungGentleman17 Mar 2015
LIKE THE CURRENTS IN OCEANS MY THOUGHTS RUN STRONG
AS THEY WASH UPON MY SAND-LIKE MIND THAT PUSHES ALONG
MY LOVE SUCH PASSION AND FIRE
I CAN JUST FEEL ITS HEAT
WHEN MY RARE PERSONALITY COMBINES IT CREATES SOMETHING SWEET
MY CHARM SUCH ATTRACTION GOT THEM LADIES CLOSING IN AND IM THE MAGNET
OH MY SKIN SUCH DARKNESS LIKE CHOCOLATES AND CANDY
MY FLOW WHICH RUNS AS SMOOTH AS WATERFALLS
MY LOYALTY IS KNOWN AS ONE THE BEST
FROM THE FRIENDS I STILL HAVE TODAY
AND FOR NEW ONES THAT WILL COME NEXT
LOUIS HAYNES IS ME AND YES I'VE BEEN CAUGHT
BUT WHO CAN STOP ME FROM HAVING SUCH POETIC THOUGHTS
YoungGentleman17 Apr 2014
well before i go to bed i gotta say this
you getting out the hostpital my only wish
i been depressed in da morning crying at night
just because i want you to be alright
your my only girl
in this crazy world
we'll go through thick and thin
be forgiving by our sins
but im hoping u wake up from the coma your in
baby girl i cant take it
cant break it
or shake it
if there''s no you there's no me
with you is the only place i wanna be
i'll alway's be real faithful to
just to see your pretty smile boo
plus my best friend mad at me too
but i gotta stay strong
and pray the lord dont take her home
because our love is everlasting long
im her king
she's my queen
and put that together it makes the best couple you've seen

By Louis Haynes
Dedicated To The Love Of My Life
who's currently in the hospital over a fatal insedent
Israel Baker Apr 2016
Antique shops
Say lonely words.
I and mine
Are but a patch of grass.
A wheat field
Waving like a
Banner of quiet
Sovereignty:
Empty freedom.
There are a thousand houses,
Homes of a hundred thousand persons.
And I am but one.
How stupid am I?
Oh, how stupid and vein.
That I love, that I hate,
I squander and create,
Worry and worry,
And yet there they are.
They are indifferent.
A family of four.
Cheri is the wife,
Tommy the husband
They have two children,
Lidia and Claudia,
They live a suburban life
Barely baptist and certainly content.
Then there's the Trina family,
And the Radells;
And the Baders;
Haynes, Spencers;
O'Connors, Smiths...
And so many others,
And what amazes me
Is that they just exist.
They are just there!
I can go and see them,
Hear them speak,
And I am in no way a part of them.
Oh! How foolish am I!
I should rip it out,
My passion and motivation,
For what is it worth?
Other than to drive me mad and speechless, driven dumb by the rains of life; by a simple kiss, water's blissful kiss, I am taken over with this feeling.
I am nothing, so be it.
I too, love rain.
Tal Haynes May 2016
I will be stronger , instead of throwing hits , I lasted longer
Maybe I'm scared or unprepared , or I don't feel the need to lash out
You can talk,  but those words will get me riches , there's glitches , in the system ..were I win .
My enemy will become my motivation , I Am feeling the heat , radiation .
See I go home at the end of the day , there they do not exist , there they decay
The told me since day one I'd be nothing , now I'm breathing to be something
I don't talk about it as chatter , or to make them matter
- Alex Haynes
YoungGentleman17 Aug 2014
like a person who's high
My mind reacts quick
but my thoughts thinks slow
and since my personality is currents in the water
it creates a poetic flow
my poems are addictive
my poetic style is rare
one read will have you shocked
two read will have you stuck
and once you reach three you'll never get enough
my flows are like dreams
cause they'll make yours come true
and if i were your genie
i ll grant your wishes to
my words are soothing
so soothing
when i speak,
you'll be feeling smooth
i would tell you the rest
but i'm not trying turn something good to a mess
My soul is like the wind
you never know when it blows
My name is Louis Haynes
And this is my poetic flow
Tal Haynes Apr 2016
You all thought I was out of my bounds , that rope stopped cutting my skin
I tear at my flesh every night in front of the mirror , and I wash the blood away with my sadness
It's not easy being two types of people
I'll try to let you understand
I was wrapped in pink as soon as they wiped the blood off of me
And just because I prefer he
Doesn't mean no one else is screaming , sorry , I will try to duck tape there mouth
I am still trapped behind the glass and only my fingers every slip threw my chamber door
Please don't love me , I will only cause you to be confused
I only get a small taste of the whine
If only I had the courage to cut a slit to let them out of me
If only
By Alex Haynes
This is when I got really depressed about feeling female and male
Tal Haynes Apr 2016
Sometimes we think people “couldn't be that cruel “ .
That a dime is worth a dime
That were in a different time
And that stealing someone's soul ain't a crime
But , lately the news has been saying , that people could refuse service
To someone just like me
To someone who thought they were free
Hasn't this already happened with the blacks and whites ?
Haven't we already learned this in insit right ?
Why do we hunt after people that are different , and make them fight ?
You back a cat up into a corner , and he scratches you
Now he's so bad for protecting himself ?
That's just another piece of evidence on the shelf ?
You call us attention seekers when we speak
But you don't see your ignorance reeks
Are lives and freedom are on the line “land of the free “ ?
Yet women and men can't ***
But it isn't natural you say ?
You weren't born this way ?
It's embedded into our brains
But maybe we're just insane ..
You'd rather ****
Then let us be happy
But your religion treats every sin the same
I Am not saying religion is bad , it's just some people make others sad
You can not re -  write the words
Murders and speakers of hate you should feel the shame
tears on your hands you are the ones to blame


By : Alex Haynes
A.K.A Tummycakes555
YoungGentleman17 Apr 2014
they say love makes you happy
but it can also make you sad
you think things going good when there going bad
they say love lasts long
but thats only if the chemistry is strong
love is like a war cause you always gotta fight
through the day and through the night
love can also be blind
thats why you always have to use your mind
Love can be amazing
it can also drive you crazy
love is real
so real you will be willing to ****
love can be fake
don't let that overtake
cause it can cause alot of mistakes
so the only way you'll have the right type
if the person your with says you've changed there life
(by Louis Haynes)
Tal Haynes May 2016
Pretending ..
That's all that ever seems to be happening
So self aware
So in my mind
Wishing to be careless without thinking
Needing to catch myself when I let go of the locks that keep me hidden away
I need help but fear too much that it's all in my head
I know what's wrong but I try to ignore it
Why do I feel so comfortable around you , why does ”she” keep coming out and “he “ going back in .
I need the torture...of knowing my remedy for all madness  

By : Tal Haynes
Gayle Haynes May 2018
DREAD

John 18 and 21
By Gayle Haynes

Charcoal on the embers made a warming fire;
Bitter smoke swirled up and burned my nose.
"You were with Him," a servant said three times
"He had friends and you were one of those."
What threat could my love of Him now pose?

"Not I," I said, and stepped back in the dark.
I could not speak or witness of his power.
Danger was everywhere; when the soldiers came,
I took a sword to defend him in that hour.
What recompense to pay if now I cower?

Suddenly the **** crowed twice and my heart froze.
His words came back with bitter taste and tears.
"You will deny me, I who washed your feet."
He knew my weakness; the knowledge burns and sears.
What judgment waits for me in future years?

Again, beside a charcoal fire, agony was ripe.
“Do you love me more than these?” he said.
Now my fear was of a different type
For He asked me to follow where he led.
How could His amazing love swallow all my dread?

— The End —