I just feel so limited
It's 11 pm and I want to go for a drive
But my parents just won't take me
I want to go for a drive at 11pm
In my france france france sweatshirt, hair loose and all
and I want to stick my head out of the window
And I want to feel the cold air pass me by and go through my bones
And I want my hair to fly in the **** wind
and I want to listen to mainstream music and some feel good music
And I want the sky to be pitch black, with stars
And I want to pass trees and solely trees and smell the leaves and the pine cones
and I want to see the city from down below, as the street lights light up the town in golden arrays
And pass a restaurant with some music
Maybe even some random people loitering in a corner of a smoke shop with purple lights and cigarette smoke crowding everywhere
And I want to just look at them
And think about them
And what they did to get there
And I want to see a couple holding their hands and walking down the street
Even though its 11 pm
And I hope they're just happy
And I want to hold my dads big warm hand while I do all of these things
Because I got shotgun
And I want my brother to sit quietly in the back, and my dad to hum some Indian song
While I do all of these things
And I want to go to an aquarium and stare at jellyfish
Lavender jellyfish
and bright electric blue jellyfish
And pink and orange jellyfish
And I want to smell the AIR
And I want more of me to grow than the part in my brain that controls calculus and SAT
I want to grow physically and mentally and spiritually
There's a whole world out there
A whole WORLD!
And I'm in my room
My mother is in the kitchen thinking I'm doing SAT, and my dad is working and stressing over his job, and my brother is in his room writing his first interactive program
and I'm in my room, knowing i'm supposed to be doing SAT, but all I can think about is
how there's a whole messy majestic gigantic WORLD out there
And I am sitting here doing calculus and SAT
And it seems like its all for nothing
For only myself
And I know I'm not necessarily supposed to be this altruistic human being
I'm supposed to want things for myself
I'm supposed to be selfish in how I study and where I put my time but thats just not enough for me
I want to spend all day planting poppies and sunflowers
And in the night I just want to stare into infinity at the sky
And I want to cut my hair shoulder length, dye the bottom blue, get another piercing, decorate my hands with  henna, and walk around in vintage crop tops and flowy pants and matte black michael kors sandals
And I want to stop watching TV and going on facebook and having superficial banter and disgusting small talk
And I want to do yoga for the right reasons
Because yoga is the journey of the self, through the self, to the self, and I don’t want to do it solely because I want nice arms or a bendy back or a nice **** I mean even though its okay to want those things but I just want more
I want everything to be just raw and I want people to expose themselves and I want to expose myself and I want
my parents to just LISTEN to what I want
And recognize the fact that this is the third night in the row that their daughter has outwardly displayed to them that
there's chaos in her mind because she just can't handle
doing and being absolutely nothing
anymore
And I want to read about human rights and global warming and how
when a chef is cooking for a ton of people, he uses utensils to remind himself what to do next
and I want to read about forensics and how mass spectrography and chromatography help detect if someone is poisoned or not
And I really don't want to do SAT
Not because its hard or boring, or even because it seems useless but because
it just seems so *******
useless and irrelevant
And I want to stop living the life I want to live on a **** website
Because its opened my mind so much but I want to SEE sunflowers instead of
looking at pictures of them and I want to SEE
elephants and kittens instead of just
looking at them and I want to
feel a connection with a human being rather than just imagining what it would be like and I don't mean romantic relationships, no
But I just want to stop being so ignorant
And I want to know everything
And really all I want to go is forget that
I have to study tomorrow
I just want to go on a car ride
And stick my head out of the window, like a dog
Because I am happy, like a dog
Just why am I LIMITING myself?
For what???
I want to talk to people
I want them to teach me something
Because people are nature Tamille
Some people are delicate flowers
Some people are raging thunderstorms
Some people are disarrayed forests
Some will leave me breathless, some will knock me down
And some will be gardens and some will be SUNSETS and
I want them all to teach me something
And I want to speak my mind and look HIM whoever he may be
In the eye and and I want to stop being so small
And I may be insignificant but I'm an infinity
Because all galaxies are infinite
I read that there are as many atoms in a single molecule of DNA as there are stars in a typical galaxy
each of us are our own UNIVERSE
And thats why we burn too brightly sometimes and thats why we
collide sometimes and thats why we
collapse inwards sometimes and thats why we explode sometimes and start anew
And I want my soul to project outwards
I want whatever of me that is trapped in my bones to just
spill out
And I want someone to feel all the love and happiness I have in me from
across the room
And I want to stop being so closed up and insecure and timid
I think you're a towering mountain Tamille
Or thunder
I wouldn't say you're lightning
But I'd say my mom is a delicate flower and my dad is a powerful river and my brother is a colorful sky and I want to be
a forest
I just want to stick my head out of a car window, like a happy dog
Because I am happy
I don't want to be young and scared even though I know its okay to be scared
But I want to stop swallowing my words and stop being so paralyzed
Because I can do whatever I want
I must set fire to my old self
I must start anew.
Why am I so scared for WHAT
For what
Okay so what do I do now
I think saying all that was a good start
Here's whats not going to happen
I'm not going to wake up late tomorrow
or not too late
And I'll go for a walk
To the pecks
And I'll play with the chickens
And I'll read with the chickens
I'm just burning right now
And now it seems silly to sleep
Tamille, when I come to LA for winter break
We will go out on drives at 11pm, even 2 am
For the sake of living
And we will walk alongside the beach at preposterous hours of the day
Simply for the sake of living
And we won't be phonies
Because thats silly
And we must try not to be phonies
Just for the sake of living
But of course I can't just be this spontaneous extemporaneous person online
I need to be like that Offline
more than anything because I just
need to talk to people more
And I need to see the jellyfish and I watch them with their tentacles floating upwards and downwards and just there in what is to them, an abyss
Maybe we're like
jellyfish in an abyss
Like how humans just watch jellyfish in containers
Maybe we're the jellyfish
I need to be a good memory to people
Because we remember more than we think we do
So I must try my best to be a positive remembrance
I can teach  someone something
I can teach a random stranger something
I can teach my mom something
I can teach my 85 year old neighbor something
I can teach you something
It feels wrong to say all that and then go to bed
So I think I'll just walk outside and stare into infinity once more
And then ask my dad if we can go on a car ride one more time
And then I'll come back in my room and read about global warming
Or maybe I'll read about global warming outside
Because a child educated only at school, is an uneducated child
And I hope you read all this because out of everyone I chose you to tell it to you
And i hope your response isn't just "go do all that then"
I hope you read all the many messages
And now I will log off of facebook
I hope you also wake up in the morning and make it a great day
Not "hope you have a good day"
But rather
Make it a great day

A yellow ladybird waiting for the light to turn red.
Patiently awaiting what's to come.

She knows better than to make rude gestures at the light.
It won't make it change any quicker.

She knows she can spend her time better than being an angst-ridden insect cynically hating phonies.

It's true patience is a virtue
and she sticks by this principle.
No matter what they say,
a principle's a principle.

The yellow ladybird knows a lot of things.
A delightful delinquent who enjoys reading eloquent literature
and can tell you who painted that pretty picture.

But she is still just a yellow ladybird.
Still only learning how to operate in this world.

But when the light turns red, then she will know.
Know more than she does now.

Soon the yellow ladybird will see the light, be it the light she would've liked or not, I can not say.

Only she can decide if the waiting was worth it.
And for her poor soul, I hope it was.

Yeah this rap goes out to them groveling phony fraudulent rappers, who think they some hot ****, but really their rhymes should be flushed down the crapper. I won't pitter-patter over the rap games floorboards; I bust through it and slice them up with my sword. Rap today has decayed, laid to waste by auto tuned ****** fruity puffs that only care about getting paid. So despicable, yet so typical for this day and age, creativity is deadlocked away underground in a cage. Only the critically insane ******* ever try to resurrect the rap game, because most get into bed with the devil so they can achieve easy fame. Illuminati in the media, in the music, and in the congress, corrupting the youth as if they were pawns as if life was like a game of chess. Oh father if there is a father up in heaven, we need help, I tried dialing your number but there mustn't be any service up there in heaven. Are you hearing me, I tried to show the corruption, but it keeps getting covered up by this convoluted industry. Yeah I went there, what you going to do, you just some phonies with some really low IQ's. Yeah I said this was going to be a Diss track, that points out how all this worldly **** is super whack. Fake rappers, fake society, trying to look real and happy in their greedy nobility. While other starve to survive, literally, but I forgot that the majority don't give a **** about minorities. Forgive me for all the honesty; I know I should probably see a specialist in psychiatry. **** it if go off the handle every now and again, I'm not here to make friends with filthy pagans. I'm just here to establish my lyrical ministry; I'm here to challenge everything and everyone's dignity and humility. I'm not in for cheese; I'm only in it because I want to shake raps monochrome foundation to its knees. Tear it down then build it up, there needs to balance just like pendulum, no time for sell out broken down ***'s. Diss the flow, get to know who the hell you calling out, otherwise it might come back to knock you out. Diss just business, its time to throw in the towel if can't finish, diminish all of those who can't handle this new improved business. Be a role model that anyone could look up to, and if you're not down to that then *******. Diss is the time to reinvent yourself, its ok if you need a little help cleaning out your shelf. Everyone deserves a second chance to change, to rearrange themselves so they can begin a new stage. Diss is not what you expected, but I hope you hear these words so that you can heal instead of staying infected.

I hate people
I look at them and I
think about how much
better I am than them.
And then I walk outside
and throw on my face
where I love everyone
and am super nice.
I hate actors

When you’ve had enough
Of maniacs and hustlers,
Of fakes and phonies
And smooth talking hucksters
It’s time to pull back
And sort through the weeds
To find the flowers
And see what you need.

Not what you want,
That’s something different.
If your needs aren’t met
Life can get belligerent.
You need breath and water
And some other great stuff
Or you stop living a lot
And that is rather rough.

Once we move from needs
The rest are all your wants
And you can live without them
Despite all your rowdy taunts.
How many times have you heard
I need coffee when I wake up?
That is a case of your want
That comes in a handy cup.

Or, I need to buy cigarettes
But that isn’t really true.
You don’t think you’ll die without
I mean, not really, do you?
Or, I need some ice cream now
Or a cruller or two or three.
That doesn’t sound fatal
Unless you do that daily.

So, the best thing you can do
For your one and only body
Is to try your best to keep
The thing from getting shoddy
By separating the things
That your body best deserves
And realize that ignoring wants
Does nothing but get on nerves.

With that clearing of your head
And setting of new priorities
The Big Things of the day
Turn into pesky minorities.
Suddenly you see that you
Can choose who to ignore
And then see what you need
And need for nothing more.

Do we notice the finer things in life? The husband's and wives, children that's been conceived! Thou and they are all thou needeth when thy roof springs its leak!

Sick
Wearied
Weak?

Looking in all the wrong places?

Itinerant in the stagnative imagination's
For don't even the mammals haveth a place to stay?

Like the son of man
I haveth no chapel
For this head to consecretly layeth!!!

Dog nights seem more teething!!!!

Vestige of all beauty
You've left that still life post,
Wherein thy mantra's I seeketh the most!!!

The I loveth thou's
And thou more....

Deluge of happiness
Covereth me
Bury me
In atmospheric condition,

Oh man didst thou not mention?
The plaques to ***** it's protract sorrow!!!!

Hath society made materialism
And the dollar sign
Their romantic gesture?

A pity to God
And me!!!!

Mobs of fleas
To calleth what they maketh
MANIFESTED TESTIMONIES!!!!

Wherein the frauds
Fakes
And phonies
Art thy t.v magnate stars!!!!!

Art is dead
Sold out and bought

The artist is dead
Killed by a golden weight

But the artist is now rich
It only took him an hour
To build a house with no foundation
only a week to sell the deception

Wait, where is his skin, did he not shed the white?
It lounges in the shade under a redwood tree

But what does it do, it cannot just sit all the day
It does far more than just become part of a portrait scene

But no one sees him, after all he is just a hollow skin
Struggling to pick the right word, or phrase that completes his fragment
Why does it take him months to complete, why does he not sell for profit?
How do you sell an apology? Can our souls be bought now at market?

He takes long
Because he cares

"Death Around The Corner"

[Child:] Why you by the window?, what's wrong daddy?

[Mother:] I know what's wrong with that crazy *******
He's just stand by the ******* window
with that ******' AK all day
You don't work, you don't ****, you don't,
you don't do a ******* thing

I see death around the corner, gotta stay high while I survive
In the city where the skinny ****** die
If they bury me, bury me as a G *****, no need to worry
I expect retaliation in a hurry
I see death around the- corner, anyday
Trying to keep it together, no one lives forever anyway
Strugglin and strivin, my destiny's to die
Keep my finger on the trigger, no mercy in my eyes
In a ball of confusion, I think about my daddy
Madder than a *******, they never shoulda had me
I guess I seen too many murders, the doctors can't help me
Got me stressin' with my pistol in my sheets, it ain't healthy
Am I paranoid? - Tell me the truth
I'm out the window with my AK, ready to shoot
Ran out of endo and my mind can't take the stress,
I'm out of breath
Make me wanna **** my **** self,
but I see death around the corner

[Chorus]

(When we were kids, belonging felt good)
I see death around the corner
(But having respect, that feels even better)
I see death around the corner
(When we were kids, belonging felt good)
I see death around the corner
(But having respect, that feels even better)

I see death around the corner,
the pressure's getting to me
I no longer trust my homies,
them phonies tried to do me
Smoking too much ****,
got me paranoid, stressed
Pack a gat and my vest,
under my clothes when I dress
Here's hopin I die the way I lived,
straight thuggin'
Huggin' my trigger for all them ******
who was buggin'
My homie told me once,
don't you trust them other suckers
They fought like they your homies
but they phony *******
And even if I did die young, who cares
All I ever got was mean mugs and cold stares
I got homies in my head
who done passed away screamin, please
Young *****, make Gs
I can't give up, although I'm hopeless,
I think my mind's gone
All I can do is get my grind on, death around the corner

[Chorus]

I was raised in the city, ******
Ever since I was an itty bitty kitty
Drinkin' liquor out my momma's *****
And smokin' **** was an everyday thang in my household,
And drinking liquor til' you out cold
And tho' i'm gone now, ***** it's still on- Pow
Bustin on them ****** til they gone
How many more jealous *** *******, comin for my riches
Now I gotta stay suspicious when I bone
Cause if I ain't sharp and heartless,
them ******* will start ****
Excuse me, but this is where we part *****
No more game for free, please explain to me
Why ****** trip *****, who you came to see?
Murderin' now but see me later man, as for my pops
I got homies that will hunt you til you drop
I hope the Lord will forgive me, I was a G
And gettin high was a way of gettin free
I see death around the corner

[Chorus]

This is for all the real ******* ****** out there
I know you ain't scared to die
We all gotta go, ya know ?
A real ******* will pick the time he goes
And make sure he handles his ******* business
Y'all ****** stop acting like ******* out there,
all right

[Movie bites]

I'm tired off getting ripped off by guys like that

I want his family dead, I want his house burned to the ground
I want to got there in the middle of the night,
I wanna **** on his head
I want his family dead, I want his house burned to the ground
I want to got there in the middle of the night,
I wanna **** on his head

I want that sonova ***** dead, I want him dead
I want him dead, I don't care

Do we notice the finer things in life? The husband's and wives, children that's been conceived! Thou and they are all thou needeth when thy roof springs its leak!

Sick
Wearied
Weak?

Looking in all the wrong places?

Itinerant in the stagnative imagination's
For don't even the mammals haveth a place to stay?

Like the son of man
I haveth no chapel
For this head to consecretly layeth!!!

Dog nights seem more teething!!!!

Vestige of all beauty
You've left that still life post,
Wherein thy mantra's I seeketh the most!!!

The I loveth thou's
And thou more....

Deluge of happiness
Covereth me
Bury me
In atmospheric condition,

Oh man didst thou not mention?
The plaques to ***** it's protract sorrow!!!!

Hath society made materialism
And the dollar sign
Their romantic gesture?

A pity to God
And me!!!!

Mobs of fleas
To calleth what they maketh
MANIFESTED TESTIMONIES!!!!

Wherein the frauds
Fakes
And phonies
Art thy t.v magnate stars!!!!!

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

I love how hard it is for all of us to accept ourselves,
Putting on elaborate masks,
To go parading amongst the phonies.
I love how we all talk to and about each other,
But never try to repair the broken relationships,
But what I love the most is
how we all complain about our position,
but never seek the answers to put our minds at rest,
To keep the past in the past and move to whats best.

You sit here reading this,
And think,
"What a hypocrite!"
"What a beast!"
But I see my flaws,
and I know who I am,
Im working to help myself,
on levels that most don't understand,
Because while most put on masks,
I put on war paint,
and march into battle,
facing the demons of my past,
to look foreward to that brighter future.

And the truth is
I love all these things
because I sit back and realize,
that im not a warrior,
that is battling alone,
that we're all going through the same situations,
Just different scenarios.
that we all have difficulties,
living with ourselves,
The same difficulty facing the monsters in the mirror.

But it's time for us all to face the facts,
To bring out the war paint,
and throw out the masks.
Time to smear it all over,
cover up the flakes and cracks,

It's time to march into battle,
to beat down our demons,
wipe off the shame and sorrows of the past,
walk triumphantly into the sunset,
head held high and soul held higher,
and never look back.

Come,let's pack our bags
Hunting hats and all
Perhaps Stradtler is straddling
some ****** *****
Right now, pun intended
Ackley's snoring close to you
Ignore the idiot
Now listen to me
You and I
Let's forget Pencey and leave
the **** phonies who run it

We'll walk the streets together
With no dead ends our way
Your fears scare me too, you hear me?
The world is just too phony
For people like us who escape to live

Everyone tells you to grow up
And forget yourself
Just to kiss and dance with their **** grown up ideas
We are both at a losing end
Finding a close to a story that never really began
Let's just bottle up these *******

Holden, nobody really gives a ****
except the cheap, wretched bars downtown
where  old jokes like ourselves
set fire to the downpour
in our heads with more pain and
then some cheap painkillers
***** a little snooze a little
Some you gain, some you lose

Nobody really takes a look
For a **** second, see?
Except the smelly, narrow hotel rooms
Where we can rest our broken shoulders
And become a child once again
Once again, dear Holden
Non sellouts unlike your brother D.B
The door is to remain close
Some phony might take it against us
Take us to Hollywood
The hell filled with phonies

Nobody, Holden, nobody
We are alone
You and me
And the whole phony world killing themselves
While laughing at our struggles
To live our lives a little honestly

Inside…
Preachers, teachers, sleepers
Ponies, cronies, phonies
Murders, murmurs, lurkers, tearjerkers
Sexes, hexes, Pseudo T-Rex’s
Splices, spices, identity crises
Chasms, spasms, *******
Tongues, songs sung, smoke-filled lungs, décor hung
Confessions, obsessions, strange blessings
Gargoyles, rich spoils, no mortal coil
Rose windows, ruddy elbows, emperor’s clothes-
A place of chaos and a place of hope

Outside…

youve been there before but it didnt workout accordingly
step back and view the situation from a never angle
you keep coming back and will not be denied
you want to return to once was and when the world felt just right
pants were looser weight gained from all the stress
return to the social world with out feeling rejected
make your own path because the way things are dont work for you
find those true friends that you could depend on
not phonies who hang when having troubles with their partner
a true friend is your partner in crime
helping you up instead of kicking you down
you make your way isolated and along
but for once things feel right not worrying
or seeking approval but doing and feeling whats right

How can someone be fake
At least in my own mind
Being anything less than real
Is impossible

Knowing this much about myself
Makes it impossible to forgive someone else
For pretending
For being a phony

Dreams of being able to say whatever
Chasing down fakes and phonies gets old
Don't have kids your and idiot unfit
He's cheating you allow it
Or she cheated blaming you
Your job will only take you far
Being a **** doesn't make you right
Take what you can get
But others chose to be the best
This job doesn't separate your cheap
Don't know a person but want a relationship
All these factors seen mean everything to someone but nothing is being done

7 am.
For once I'm early.
For once I woke up, happy.
For once I woke up remember that it does get better.
For once my fathers text aren't true.
For once, I can easily wake up  
For once, I can start my day off right.
For once, I'm actually happy.
Not that cheap liquor induced happiness.
But,
A small warm hug of happiness.
Maybe they won't leave, I haven't.
Maybe I won't shun them, they seem to like me.
Maybe mom was right,
I just had to get through high school.

Art school was the best decision of my life.
Wanna know why?
I'm doing what I love.
I'm surrounded by people who are like me.
Sure.
There will be the posers and phonies.
The ones with all the mask caked on and truly don't know who they are.
But,
Then there is us.
The wallflowers.
Take us however you wish.

Yes.
I'm broken.
Hurt.
Needy.
Afraid.
Helpless at times too...
But,
I'm happy.
Excited.
Rejoiced.
Refreshed.
Because I have this life,
I have this family,
And now...
I have these friends.

So today,
At 7 am,
I write to all you that I love to say,
Today I'm not just fine or okay,
I'm great.

You should brew a batch
Of a tea that makes you bright
And if it works the rest of us
Can get some sleep at night
Because whatever tea you drink
As you plow your awful road
Is making you a truly lethal kind
Of hairy, ugly poisonous toad.

Tea for the Trumperman
For him and his bund.
Pay for it all with our
Stolen pension fund.
Make special batches
For him and his cronies
Look them up under the tab
High treason and phonies.

Maybe drink the kind of tea
That hippies still smoke
It might make you think
You are a bit less of a joke
But it won't ever make you
Less of a fool than you are;
The highly lethal driver
Of the Republican clown car.

Another kind of tea please
For those who called this fool a ****,
But this time make this batch
Of primo quality hemlock.
The best way is to tell all
Those dim Trumpster finks
This is precisely what der Fuhrer drinks.

Tea for the Trumperman
For him and his bund.
Pay for it all with our
Stolen pension fund.
Make special batches
For him and his cronies
Look them up under the tab
High treason and phonies.

As the colors blend on this paper I begin to see that this work is an original just like me.

A duplicate you'll never find.  This design is from my mind.  

The colors are different and they add their own flavor.  Red's not hating because black has become his neighbor.

Yellow is aged and her clothes are falling apart.  I grab some clear tape to help her out and then I can finish my piece of art.


Purple is having a hard time as of late.  The job she has she doesn't like because the pay's not so great.

Brown is so good to her boss and has begged for a raise.  He sent
her a stained memo that said " I'm working on your situation. It should be rectified one of these days."  Mr. Brown

I keep my eye on green because he's always watching me and my homies.  I heard him mumble something about the other colors I hang with.  He said they were phonies.

White talked to Orange the other day and she didn't have a clue.....that Orange had been fired from her job and now Orange is feeling blue.

They all used to live in a box.....until I dumped them on the table.  The crayons rolled and scattered relieved to see the light of day.  They were glad to be free of a box that didn't have cable.

No matter what our differences are and the problems we go through.....when we work together .....we make gray skies blue.

We can make grown ups small and children grow.  Your imagination is allowed free reign.  Now in which direction will you go?

I’m not big enough
I’m not strong enough
It isn’t wide enough
It isn’t long enough.
I’ve hear them all
You are not the first.
Not the best and certainly
You are not the worst.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

I’m not rich enough
Car’s not worth enough.
I live in the wrong place
No work done on my face.
Don’t know the right folks.
Don’t know the right jokes.
Don’t know the right dances.
Not worth taking chances.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

Not butch enough, yet
Who cares about that?
What matters in their soul
Is a big one for their hole.
It must be a big opening
That keeps them hoping
For an arm-sized toy
For such a fixated boy.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

There must be no talking;
Nothing but constant poking
Will satisfy the size-****.
Nothing matters but their ****.
No exchange of ideas or
Hobbies they can explore.
There is only getting laid.
And the conquests they made.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

It doesn’t take long to see
Where the gems can be
Among a sea of phonies
And disco show-ponies.
So, I tell them right away
There’s no bologna here today.
It runs off the size-queens
And leaves human beings.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

I covet the hideous cult of fame. Spending my days in despondent cafés manically scribbling passionate love letters to recognition.

I'm not in love I'm insane.

Suffering from self-diagnosed misunderstood artist syndrome. My heart cries silent. I am a shadow in the distance. Warped, distorted and dark I scream alone; never to be touched.

I am a poser, a fame ****** and a hero worshiper. My vitriol view on the world hinders me. Constantly on the verge of crying in public. Staring at train tracks, they invite me away. Looking more comfortable then a bed.

I try to live in the now but the future petrifies me. I can't escape my own mind.

Y culture, My culture, Counter culture, **** culture, Love culture, Hate culture, Phonies.

I can’t see past the haze of disappointment I have designed myself. I smoke **** because it relaxes me, makes me feel like what I assume normality feels like. I drink because it makes me feel like how I assume those happy people feel. I take heroine because it makes me feel euphoric and takes me close enough to death that I want to live another day.

A brutal fear beats my anaemic mind. A peculiar fear grips my inner-self and I can’t bear to open my eyes and see that I had survived the night. I become saddened by the thought that I might also survive the day, living to see what I will be tomorrow.

Happy in the madness. Longing for that sick feeling. In love with the sadness. Searching in the dark recesses of the mind for inspiration. I can’t see past my fate, it’s too dark. I sit and source inspiration through the emotions and physical fits of *******. Self-abuse. Clawing for red gold in the catacombs that meander through my pale arms.

Beat myself out of sight beat me out of sight beat me beat me till I float. Beat me beat me till I float.

I am a poser, a fame ****** and a hero worshiper. My vitriol view on the world hinders me. Constantly on the verge of crying in public. Staring at train tracks, they invite me away. Looking more comfortable than a bed.

Relapse is fine by me. I want this. I want this. I want this. I want this. Not a tortured artist just tortured. Not a tortured soul just a cracked shell. In the name of art but in the corner of sickness.

Beat myself out of sight beat me out of sight beat me beat me till I float. Beat me beat me till I float.

The tradition of marriage,
Bourgeois blackmail and baggage,
Is it all a bargain for men?
Is this what white weddings meant?
All the love that is lost,
And what is the ultimate cost?
A divorce court pizza,
Magistrate smirks like Mona Lisa,
Four corners, one for each,
Dog gets the crust, if it can reach,
Cats get the anchovies,
Were white weddings for phonies?
When is the revolution?
Blancmange brides for pollution,
Bridesmaids-Little Bo Peeps on crack,
Does society cut us some slack?

We joined the bourgeoisie,
All ends in tears and hypocrisy.

I'll say it now and I've said it before; the best book I've ever read is about the paradoxes of war.

A friend asked a question, then added
"But spare me the lecture."
I told him the best book I've ever read was about architecture.

An alien sent a question from his head telepathically to mine,
So I thought of that book I once read of a man unstuck in time.
(If the title was placed here, it would just almost rhyme)

Near Betelgeuse, I picked up a man in need of a ride
I asked where he was headed, and he said,
"Nowhere in mind."
He had a book with him.
It was some sort of guide.

I once kicked the crap around with a young kid in a hat.
He looked down at my hands and said,
"Hey, what's that?"
I told him it was a book full of phonies and jerks.
He nodded, then lit a cigarette.
There was blood on his shirt

A man once recited,
Word for word,
A book I recognized after having heard.
I said, "That's my favorite!"
And he gave me a look.
The best book I've ever read was about burning books.

I once played God, and gave a dead thing new life,
But it was so grotesque that I had to run away and hide.
A tormented and wretched human imitation.
Made me think of a book about a man tortured by his own creation.

One time I was reading a book above mentioned,
When a man came up to me and asked a most impertinent question.
He said, "I see you reading all the time, but have you ever read
the greatest book of all time?" I glared at him and said,
"No I have not, but I've heard much about it.
It's a very popular book, but I do without it."
He said I should reconsider.
That it's not one to pass.
I told him to take that **** book, and shove it up his ***!

It's funny how no matter where you go
everything is the same. No kidding.
I've been to San Fransisco and everyone is pretending to not be fake,
and I've been to New York and they're even bigger phonies.

I walked into town once, two miles from my house to the park.
I walked along the highway and stuck my thumb out the whole way.
No one stopped until this man on a motorcycle did.
He asked me where I was going and I said into town.
He asked where in town and I said the first thing that came to mind.
Charlies Cafe, I said. We rode to Charlies Cafe which was only a 20 minute walk from where we were but whatever.
He didn't have a helmet but that was fine.
He dropped me off. I never even went into Charlies.
I walked a half block to the gas station and went inside.
I grabbed an Arizona and walked up to the counter.
"Anything else for yah?"
"Yeah uh, a pack of Natural American Spirits."
I slapped a ten on the counter and the man asked to see identification.
I told him I didn't have any but I also wouldn't need change.
He sold me the cigarettes and the Arizona and didn't give me change. It's that kinda stuff that ****** me off.

And that's what I mean. You ask someone for something and they act like they're doing you a hell of a favor and then you waive some money under their noses and they're shining your ******* boots.

I got off the subway and to the venue.
There were people filing in and smoking flowing out.
I stood in line, bought my ticket and went in. Some ******* band a friend had told me about who was playing. I was meeting him there in 30 minutes but wanted to scope it out early. A girl wearing fishnet stockings was looking cute in a booth all by herself. I sat down in the booth next to her and ordered a drink. The waiter was nice enough to forget to ask about my non existent ID. I leaned over and asked the girl if I could refill her drink.
She looked at me disgusted and said "I will let you know, that I have a boyfriend."
Jesus, it's not like I asked to **** her or anything.
"Jesus it's not like I asked you to **** me or anything."
I returned my lean to my booth. I'm usually not so curt with women but this ****** me off.
My friend never showed up and I bailed during the opening act.
I walked all the way back to my apartment and smoked.
It started raining.

Cute girls, gas station clerks, weather, they can all be *******.

What doth thou invest thine time into?
Is it watching sports?
Is it t.v?
Is it *******?
Is it lust?
Is it media in all forms?
Is it money?
Food?
Drink?
Is it memoribillia?
Is it the metal car?
That wilt just rust and ruin and not last........
Is it mansion, home or shack?
Is it dope?
***?
Money orders?
Checks?
Is it hatred?
And greed?
Cutting others down?
Crying?
Is it lonesomeness?
When thou aren't really lonely?
Is it a fake smile
To please the phonies?
Is it thinking of tommorrow
When we've only today?
Is it thy looks?
Pride amazed?
Is it shopping?
Clothes?
Silver?
Gold?
Hath thou tried to focus
Not on these wordly things..............
But focus on thy lovers!!!!!!!
Husbands,
Wives,
Sons
Mothers
Daughter's
Pets(anima­ls period)
Brothers
Sisters
Aunties
Uncles
Cousins
Neices
Nephews
Fa­mily period
Or the one thou art in love with
Romance wise?
Hath thou  done this today?
Or keeping that love secret???
Tommorrow might not come
Better make the move,
Husbandman
Wife
Father
Son
Lovers
To be one......
Tis
Tis I sayeth
Tommorrow
Might not cometh....
Tis I do believe
Tommorrow don't always cometh!!!!!!

A BULLET IS FIRED,
BLOOD IS DESIRED.

THERE IS NO WAY DOWN,
A SANGUINE BED AROUND.

THOSE BEHIND TABLES WATCH THE SHOW,
BUT, I'M A SOLDIER MADE TO BOW.

CUZ I'M A SOLDIER, I FIGHT FOR MY MOTHER,
TO THOSE PHONIES, I DESIRED TO TETHER.

MY END IS NEAR, I'VE A QUESTION,
TO MY COUNTRYMEN, DO I DESERVE ADMIRATION ?

I DESIRE NOTHING OVER MY CADAVER,
BUT A TRI-COLOR FLAG FOR A FLAG-WAVER.

OH MY LOVE DO NOT CRY,
CUZ, I'VE ATTAINED THE HIGHEST SKY.

LET MY LAD KNOW THE DEED OF MINE,
SO HE'LL BE NEXT IN THE MARTYR-LINE.

How to expand your vocabulary,
Quite incidental, actually.
Feed the need, that craving inside,
Bury the pip, symbols collide,

Confide in a way brevity insists,
Cast from heaps of molten lists.
Impossible sentiment proven not,
Paramount structure, stir the ***.

Rot and dross swathe the beast,
Desperate for light, look to the East.
Irate in anguish, confined to doom,
Within the partition of the Lazarus tomb,

Displeased, they persist, clang the facade.
The home, the locale, of our very own God.
Indelible musing forms the rock,
Which from overhead, the horde did mock.

“Crock is what you mean to me!”
Bellow they do, around Judas tree.
Not ‘till the end, their faith to heal,
Endeavor to crack the Devil’s seal.

Reel and teeter, the flock ****** to awe,
The phonies true, their passion raw.
Once impalpable, begins to soar
Above them all, a Monster no more.

♪ ☠♫☃

Octosyllabic rhyme was killed.
Her epitaph I chisel here…
so face the book and feed your twit;
while I the rhythmic record clear.

The sad remains of Lyric Wit
are here interred – no more to rise
(lest poets’ brains be forced to think
and plummet from post-modern skies).

You  phonies scrolling Twitter-blink,
and scribblers with advanced degrees
look up, and hearken to these words
while feigning your conceited ease.

The academic gallows-birds
reviewing chap-books, high on fluff
make darker the sepulchral gloom –
as if it wasn’t dark enough.

The verdict’s in and all assume,
as measured meaning leaves the court,
he meant to **** her (Poetry).
Life sentences are written short.

The killer grinning artlessly
in blank-verse handcuffs, void of rhyme,
composes abstract lines, the dull
memoirs of his poetic crime.

The prosecution’s notes are full
the case is made, the jury hears
his guilt made evident, at least.
The victim’s mother melts in tears

He murdered her himself, the beast.
then dumped her: a deflowered rose.
His incoherent imagery
dismembered her like slaughtered prose.

She met her end lamentably;
He did her in and cut her down
thus shortening her metered day.
(That free-verse wielding abstract clown!)

Behold her grave – where grass turns hay
as poets’ bones subside to dust;
her soul with God to reconvene
(or wander with bemused disgust).

Her grave-site paints a pastoral scene,
poetic fodder – life from death…
and calves shall fatten near her tomb.
Oh coward reader: take a breath !