As I walk towards the shrine of blood and gold,

Reeking of the fallen and of the old

Unbeknownst to what might lay beyond,

A ******* in what comes after, a ******* in what came before.

This sack of maimed flesh that you see

A conquered ***** of the soul

This skin worn by all but one

A temple broken down to the bone.

Where once was a mind delighted,

A crown of jewels, of dreams of flight and

Of merriment and of might

A child of the stars that I once was

Burnt embers of olden coal that I am now.

Hence here I lay, astray, with no greed

No rage, no radiance and no leads

A destitute of life, fed and dressed

A king of the barren, a pastor amongst the wicked and unblessed.

And as I stand now at the altar of the fallen ghouls,

From suitor to gatekeeper of my own poisoned muse

Guiding sheep to a slaughter frayed

A purgatorial monument, unraveled and unswayed.

As I move along the line
Your absence will constantly remind
Me that you chose to stay
In that same destructive state
Rather than blossom into
A better person

You failed to realize
That in raising a child
You also have to grow
Up and outward to show
Them how to live
A life worth living

So absorbed in the me, me, me
Covered your eyes so you'd not see
That you let the monster in
Allowed it to eat your children
Until they became as poisoned
As your soul

Even if the golden jellyfish are disappearing
I'll always have one with me.
The best one out of them all,
has never left or let me fall.
If I sank deep enough before,
their lake would've consumed me;
left me poisoned and faded.
but with him I'm unafraid
I'll drown in his arms
before I worry about pointless things.

A young man returns home
To Hiroshima,
Where the bomb's been
Dropped.

There are imaginary lines,
Each for every ripple
Caused,

Each for every poisoned child,
Crisscrossing,
Intersecting,
Multitudes upon multitudes of
Lines—

In the thicket
He stands

Unmoved.
Avoided.

He can't help but
Notice the
Uninterrupted
Lines
Of his shadow

Spread out before him-

A body bag
Unopened.

A man stands. overlooking two different visions. Two different choices.

On the left he gazed over the glorious modernized utopia. Tall prominent skyscrapers, gleaming in the dazzling pure sunlight. Clinical white rows of spacious suburbia. Unnaturally green gardens of perfectly shaped, perfectly cut square grass accompanying the houses. Polished, scentless people strolled down the un-littered perfection of the linear streets. Enormous great smiles featured on the faces of all. The urban paradise. Biblical, eden in practise, sanctity.  Economical bliss. Unpolluted, crime free, social perfection. No inequality, racism, no hatred only love among broters. No depression. The endless rows stretched glorious miles, convenience, supermarkets, brand new glistening, hospitals, all necessity in perfect working order. No unemployment, no political unrest. Every man among equals. Utopia.

On the right hand side, wretched poverty as far as the eye can see. Cramped, overwhelmed shanty towns. Terrified people, dragging themselves through diseased streets. Crippling illness plaguing the antagonized masses. There is no employment here, no glistening new buildings. Only the decaying festering ruins of lifetimes of selfishness. Hatred, jealousy, paranoia, neurotic fluttering harpy’s, harlequins of the night. Plagued minds, plagued bodies. Gargantuan monsters of men rose from the rubble. Demented. Lava flows freely through the crumbling streets. There are no trees here, no vegetation, only blackened earth. Blackened with the ****** despair of man. Only anguish in this land. The black sun burns with hateful rage in the sooty, cloudy toxic sky, the only rain falls as corpses falling from sardine cans to the sky. Burnt out cancerous lungs, filled with sulphurous air from the giant volcano's of dead minds, spewing deadly chemicals into the already uninhabitable environment. The demons of despair stalk this land, endlessly wallowing in there own self-loathing, amongst other vile things.

The decision resting on his shoulders governs life for all men, all men to come. His left side, yearning for paradise, freedom, equality for all, peace, communal gain.
His right side leaning towards narcissistic self gain. Taking the world for himself, watching alone the setting of the poisoned blck sun, poisoned by his greed.

He walked forward, leaving the realms of choice behind him. The future was his to choose.

my mother told me
that life
was worth living
and that dying
by my own hand
was selfish

my father said
that he would always be there
after leaving
five times

but I wonder if he knows
how many times
I died
by his foot steps
or by my mothers
second hand smoke

I would rather shoot myself
in the head
than have these demons
control me
and I would rather suffocate myself
than let your smoke choke me
I would rather choose my own fate
than have one chosen
for me
let me breathe oxygen for once
and not have my lungs crushed
by your gym shoes
let my heart not be smashed by
another slammed door
or have my mind poisoned
by your treatment and religion

god was manifested to manipulate
in whatever way
suits you best

let me not be tied down to a leash

let me not die by your hand

let me die
by my own

If neoliberalism has taught me anything
It’s that Love is a close, slow, and cold war
Of poisoned wells, proxy wars, and intel—
Know thy enemy, keep them closer than allies.
So close this necessary rivalry
That no olive branch can pass between
That, even in times of peace,
The light-bearing serpents
Post guard near the vaults of one’s purity
Unsure whether grain or gold
Actually lines the walls of ones coffers,
And the thousand envious myrmidons
Kept along the edges of their body’s territory
And skirt the embassy within.
Is there room in the hearth
For pacifists like me?
Or are all the rooms quartered by troops?
It’s sad to say, only the words of the cynic
Could truck and barter
Their way through the bronze gates,
What small inlets there may be,
As master seeking the slave
And slave, the master’s whips
Is a true sign of loyalty to Monogamy’s crown.
What Love couldn’t be said to be
The sadomasochism of
The corporate merger,
Or annexation
Or competitive market of ideas?
***, in the time of Smith or Hobbes,
Is exactly what we need—
Egoism allwheres,
Like so much embroidery
The love of ones life
Veils *******, a swallowing, a utility
And undoes the altruism,
Anything but all-true-ism,
In favor of the fetishism of control,
Flashed like semaphores in storm-beaten nights
To any ship passing
Seeking port and safe passage,
Exchange fire, those shapes and pleas,
Turned warnings to threats,
Sinking, sinking deeper
Into each other’s arms.
In all their plotting, do they hear
Andres-Salome, Ree, and Nietzsche
Laughing about in unburdened skin
Laughing to let the summer in,
On cart-drawn pleasures
And rustic, old-world habits
That rub dirt in the wound
Of the flesh’s censures
By the cruel absence of the lash
And the ostracon.

The water you drink has been poisoned,
The air you breath is corrupt,
The cities we nest in will crumble,
The end is near and abrupt.

Let your feet carry you to a much safer place,
Far from the idols we built,
Cherish the life you've been given,
but wallow forever in guilt

We tainted the fruits of her garden
and burned all the gifts she had grown,
From her ashes we built up our kingdom,
and in her sanctum we knelt to our throne


And now it is her time for calling,
And now it is our turn to run,
The cities we built are all falling,
The end of mankind has begun.

Touch my banquet
it's possible crucifying pleasure
Instinct inspires whispers
of tormenting embrace
Confess your need
to fragment my illusions
Speak!
I can be found in all of this!

Leave & let me
believe in fragile reasons
Burn kisses
into my naked hidden world
Embrace secret rythms
that lie here poisoned
But meet me on your side
of the drunken universe!

Laugh cruel petals
my hour is haunting....
lavish your fancy dress
I exist only in solitude

....but the fever is in the living......

tethered to
the beast
for life,
bird's wagon
blazed a trail
of pretty notes
like cherries in
a dry martini.

his poisoned beauty
led;
we followed.

from harlem to
tunisia and bop,
bird blew his top
past duke and louis  
in d-minor streams.

but  the beast
kept pulling him back
to the frantic snow
of his diatonic dreams.

and like fire
he burned.

and like fire
he burned.

~ p

Jackals  and *******
Clowns and criminals;
Lies and libelous lambastes
With integrity minimal.
Grande Guignol politics
From pusillanimous politicians
Poisoning the populace
With only selfish ambitions.

Sleight of hand shysters
And self-appointed diplomats
Throw out all their morals
And set out the welcome mat
For those the most likely
To pay the highest bribe
And have no care if they sell
The land from under the tribe.

So what if water is poisoned?
As long as they make money.
After all, the rich aren’t harmed.
Now isn’t that incredibly funny?
Who cares about the future?
What matters is right now
And the profit they can make.
It is what the law will allow.

And those that wrote those laws
So cleverly and quietly confused
The very people stupid enough
To so gullibly to be thus used.
But jackals and *******
Really aren’t animals at all.
Nor are they household pets
Who come when they are called.

Likened to abandoned theme park
Once fond memories cracked like abused porcelain
Affections taken over by invasive species
The fragrance and flavors once beloved, now poisoned and tasteless
My only want was to finally build a real home with you
A sanctuary
To capture a sense of pride and ease within the walls of our first attempt at creating this space together
To build something meaningful
To have a combined sense of accomplishment
What we are going through makes me think we do not bring out the best in one another
That we don't even like each other
That we are starting to become some angry sense of entitlement to our feelings instead of acknowledging the experience and skills we each possess and allowing them to be demonstrated
That incessant reference to one's opinion
Shouting from the rooftops just to be heard, right or wrong
The begging to just be
Respected
Cared for
Supported
Fought for instead of against
Overwhelmed by the demand for control
The chaotic pattern of pain
The bickering
The embittered, defensive replies to the simplest inquiry
The pushback against a simple difference of view
The lack of compromise because the war to be right appears to be more important than being happy
Sick to death of the exhaustion and sleeplessness and isolation
Happiness ruined by blame and selfishness
A creeping death, like a filthy air filter, will eventually have its way
So sick of contemplating a life beyond depression instead of living it
A life without a broken back
Without a broken voice
Without a broken heart
Starting to forget what it used to feel like to walk without the sting of these burdens around my ankles
Pulled into a stairwell of despair and breaking every bone on the way down
The constant ache
The stress from tiptoes on thin ice
The cuts from the shattered glass of the window pane
The threat of never recovering
Imminent with each misstep
Building upon an already cracked foundation
A landscape of burned out Earth, choking on the drought
Homeless dreams in littered streets
Dreams of you
A starving canine with your ribs showing, escaping reality by wandering the street for scraps
as I lie in wait, "slowly killing myself" as you look on
Past me
Through me
Those framed glass shards and their tattered curtains
Might as well be my body, my heart, and my soul
All in a seemingly endless, untenable state of disrepair
Scrubbing at the flaws until my hands bleed with no way to get the stains out
Gasping for breath with the hope of a new day
Stifled by the devastating collapse beneath the mountain of rubble

I remember the way your lips
Felt like rose petals
Soft and delicate
I loved roses and their sweet smell
When we kissed
Time slowed to a stop
So we could make every moment count
I shouldve known better

I saw you kissing her
Everything was in slow motion
But this time i wish time wouldnt stop
I wish time would faat forward
To when i no longer thought of you
Or rewind to when i was in her place
I shouldve known
You sweet aroma was poisoned
I guess i thought
You were covered in thorns
Because even the most beautiful things
Should be guarded from the world
Now i think its because youre a *****
Even the most beautiful of roses
Have the deadliest of thorns
I hope those kisses make her feel weak
Weaker than i feel now

I've never felt roses the same
In fact
I hate roses

it's three months later
and the tune of our love
still echoes through the labyrinth
of my prozac-poisoned cerebrum

it's the sound of rainy evenings
in whitewashed suburban neighborhoods
overwhelming me
as it ricochets off the cold stone

it's the ghost of your hand
holding mine so tight
and it feels like home
as I stand here alone

even as the symphony changes key
to red hair and bright blue eyes
the cadence of you
still rings in my mind

Hot latte, with some chocolate dust sprinkles on top. Man I will be frank, Americans got it to easy, to easy. That's the american way. To many American's now have it to easy, ******* off of government funds away from the one's who really need them. We got a ghetto every 5 or 10 miles. A suburb every few miles, a mansion 1 to every five burbs. We got It easy with groceries, a store we get food from! Dont need to grow food anymore really, everything is manmade poisoned and antibiotic shots in your chicken and beef. We have dudes who wanna buy women, or men that wanna buy men. Even men who wanna buy trannies ( transexuals) or dudes who buy woman who are really men. but what countrys not that way. We got all different creeds breeds all here. Doctor's you can pay 200 bucks for the illegal way to get scripts, prescriptions for the not knower's. We have mad alcoholics here like no tomorrow. And serious ****** and dope addicts, We have jocks, idiots, goths, strippers, musicians, the best actors in the world. Along with the best movies. We have the old western U.S. we have the east coast where oceans you can get from the south to the east to the west. We have hillbillies, rednecks, gangsters, wannabees, liars, thieves, killers, rapists, city boys, country girls, Mercedes Benz, old pickup ford, motorcycle gangs -baddest ever.. We have everything here to get you in jail, hell and heaven. We can make you sin. Or make you want to repent. Come to us. Come to the united states of america. Forgot a big thing! The soilders. We got the best marines army navy all soilders in the world here.we have the most weapons of any country in this weird place. We have soilders who lose their lives for things they think their fighting for when really its rich overshadow government money their fighting for. We got huge graves, big tombstombs. Mostly marked with men who died unrespected from world war 1 , 2 and possibly three sometime in our sunny future. Welcome to America. Heaven and hell in one slice.

Have you been shredded
By the tenacity
Of your alcoholism
Yet,

Or will we have to funnel
More worldly atrocities
Into you,
Filling you to bursting?

The swish in your belly,
The boldness of your talk;

Decimated.

Let me be the one
To **** all you are
With my well-kept home
And all-American children.
Let me poison you
With my son and husband's baseball game,
My seasonal dish towels.

Let me tear your being
With my baby
Who doesn't even suffer a diaper rash,
With my laundered and ironed clothes.

Let me destroy you in domesticity,
A cold beer at the end of the day
And too many addictions
Kept hidden.

Let me dismantle your establishment
While I bear my blemishes under the skin.

Let me break your concentration.

Let me make you think
I am perfect.
Let me make you think
That my family is sound.

Let me convince you
That you mean nothing
To the world
If only because
My children will be more intelligent
and more well kept
Than the one you poisoned.

Let me be
The Stephen King novel,
Bruce Springsteen song,
All-American house wife
And let me be kept far,
Far away from You,
Dazed and Confused
And depressed and medicated,
You.

just a nervous swimmer
making threats to capsize
cross legged eaten alive
praying acoustically so you could hear
a ship that plunges
through disaster’s eye
the harrowing digestive pit of the sea
willingly swallowed
lying under the collapsed ceiling
of
the one that crashed all around us

snow heavy on headlights
blanketing windshields with sloppy mounds
the bitter Christmas
and a night ride, cold headlights
a spelunker’s lantern
watching the masturbator on stage
his back facing the crowd
black curls like a blindfold
he smiles like someone in church
but behind his teeth something
seethes

red lipped rosy aloof
(the beautiful drunk who
I’ll write many lines)
I called you the Ouija way
but it was disconnected
Athena poured the milk you made
down your slopes and poisoned the valleys
looking back and tracing photos
wondering if you really existed at
all

walked in the humidity and
only wished I had said
nothing
realized all the time
there was no one I wanted but you,
curious feeling of being
startled awake
boots making me heavy
spent the next few weeks
swimming tirelessly upstream
proud salmon ***** that I am

Lit by angels and adrenaline
silent auctions, abductions
still as death decends here
Archadia dimmed
a dimension of distractions
sinking in a pretty little nest
feathered with fear
she sinned so softly
knowing nothing else to sleep beneath
twigs and bones returned from the battle
gnawed clean from anxious teeth
so brittle; you become a love song to the cold
a rattle of defiance
a longing for a place you cant face alone

this is not Archadia
these sweetly poisoned streets
full of tempting berries
choking on my mind
every sniff every sip every inhale is all we have
to stop what we are in-between
awaiting, impatient
feral from empathy
dreaming of each others bliss
an escape to humidity
an instant view of the sea
it might fix this

but it doesn't

I wish , I wish
my memory could imprint on me
that cascading fading message
I always leave in rem sleep
that lack of loathing now I'm older
old enough to know life's secrets
still too young to live by them
this is not Arcadia
this is a January town
where every new idea never starts
an eternal dance
a feast for show
so starving eyes swell

the grass is always gone where I go

I wish , I wish
the night could take me to Archadia
my silence as loud as
the auction lost
here were are; in the rotting sequence
pining for a reward
I'll build my own Archadia
out of precious words, molecules of hope
how to enlighten
omens of wonder, summer rain excitement

I roll down the grassy hill
turn another page
to somewhere I can smell resilience
a rest bite, evacuate the cold and reunite with your innocence

Welcome to Archadia
where hands are full of strength
a land full of scents that warm frantic souls
giving out their tidings
tiny rebels repel your decisions
deviate what you hope to replace

for here is your Archadia
empathy is everything
a peaceful wave of lighting
a quiet sob of clarity
an instant view of the sea
Welcome to Archadia
you're here to be free

In the line of fire I stand
Blood in a drought filled land
The flesh wound smell
My nostrils are filled
Deaths desperate attempt
The air is chilled.

I reach out to free…
But then the blood is on me.

I can’t stop the gushing red
Shrieking pain, poisoned head
Grasping for a breath of faith
The air is thin, I cry out instead.

A cry of anger
Beyond wounded souls
Interrupted territory
Hot words. Burning coals.

Twisted cry
Mortality advert
Twisted truth
Woven with hurt.
Reconciliation I call
A gut filled plea
Groping dust.
Face down.
I cry out.
“mercy…?”

Silent pain
Through life
Devours the soul
Thought chains to blame

Scars deep in the brain
Corrosive failures
Opportunities in vain
Rage against this cage

One day or thousands
On birthdays and trips
Special moments, supposedly
Poisoned and lingered deep in it

Joy, to be craved, pain, to hold in
Starved and thin, couldn't let light shine in
Anger burns acidly your good will to change
Trauma and indignation invoke for revenge

Thoughts mimics one another
If one is dark the other can be darker
So the cycle can never stop
Only if you break the gear of thoughts

I have cages below me
I float above them
My antigravitational force being my belief that I am superior
U take my blade and look at the captives in my cages
It seems to be close to feeding time
They are
Afterall
Throwing themselves agaisnt my cages
So I take out my blade
Letting them feed on the drops of blood pouring down my arm
They are sated

Lityle so they know
Ther is POSION IN MY BLOOD

HA
HA
ha
ha

Ascend to thy head,
cleanse thy poisoned, mainstreamed veins,
hear me O Great One.

Non Draco Sit Mihi Dux 1

That wicked liar offers us a poisoned cup
In whose sheeny surface we see ourselves
Reflected in his cold imaginings
And not our own, in what we ought to be

There is another Cup for us, not this one
Just as there is a stone that must be moved
A bird of night to be repudiated
A thorny bush that burns, but not itself

A blessing breaks that false and bitter cup -
We share the one that God has lifted up


1 In English, let not the dragon be my guide; it appears on the medal of Saint Benedict as NDSMD.

There's no water
In my well;
No pulley,
No bucket
On the end of a rope,
For you.

There's no water
In the cup
Of poison
I spew.

Defying Divinity

Filled with buoyant helium,
Our world flies above the rest.
Swirling blues and greens,
Clouded by patches of white.

Tied of by our creator,
The world still wonders
What being has that power.
No one will ever know.

Everyday,
We step around each other,
Fearing collision for the safety of our planet.
For the safety of ourselves.

With the stroke of a sharpie,
Skyscrapers are built,
New rivers are drawn.

There may be an illusion of control,
But when it was created,
Our buoyant world was bumped.
It keeps floating in the breezeless atmosphere,
Forever in the same direction.

The swirling blue and green,
Are slowly transforming to brown.
The divine tie,
Is coming undone.

As we attempt to step around each other,
Our paths collide even more
And our leaders persistently attempt,
To erase the celestial pen.

These many troubles lead of conflict.
To guns and battles,
Harsh words and poisoned societies.

As we collide and fight and destroy,
We lose sight of our planets delicacy.
One misplaced bullet and
POP! It’s all gone.

Who is this who lies in my bed,
That I don't even know?
Who's so messed up within his head,
With nowhere else to go?

Feeding me breakfast poisoned with dreams,
And singing me hope to sleep?
Who then lies awake concocting schemes,
For with my soul to keep?

A master and a villain he be,
Behind an angel's eyes.
Yet he's the fool...it is not me,
I see through his disguise.

You see perception blessed me thrice,
And now I am full aware.
Fool me once, fool me twice,
But again? You best beware!

For I can also lace the truth,
To cut you down to size;
Use your deceit as my reproof,
And justify the lies.

But use my pillow - I'll play the role,
And take my portion double.
Before I snip your twisted soul,
"My pleasure..it's no trouble."

The facts of fiction heavily researched
Weighed through a straw
Sipping through national parks vistas
Reaching beyond a wide angle lens
Like grey wolves
Somehow you missed me
You've cruised my body
River rafted natural beauty
Poisoned my floor
Somehow you missed
My primal cry
Climbing snow capped mountains
Majestic picture perfect
I'm ready for my close up
Somehow you missed
My melting tears
A rescue inhaler
Frame less picture

I flung myself in a sudden reckless abandon
Strung myself with every willing person
Drenched in lust for a quick action
Needing the rush to feel a sensation

The thrill of seeking hearts
The feel of touching parts
Needing to find my own inspiration
By the way of candied prostitution

Needing to find the right heat
Grinding to find the right beat
Seasoned with the salty tears of fame
Glazed in bitter-sweet laughs of shame.

This syrupy tongue who went through mouths
These amber sapped eyes taking away doubt
This dripping voice who tells sweet acid lies
Behind the truth of cheating everyone else denies

For one such person is ready to give
As much as he is ready to recieve
The poisoned berries of adultery and sin
Like the flaming desire of someone from within

For what makes someone who yearns
Find love in dizzying patterns
So broken and loss with none to please
One who just wanted to find aching release

you move with a surge
a power that rolls through
across the vast expanse
of fields in dreamland

you **** everything in your path
the trees die, the leaves die,
the grass is no longer green
my sky no longer blue

you are the parasite
I am the vessel
you poisoned me and now you want out
and I want you out too

you claw your way out of my chest
and escape through my throat
in short puffs of desperate air
you steal my breath from me

you are the dark side of my thoughts
you are my fears, you are my doubts
you have become every part of me
and i am at your will