Sunday, February 28, 2010

Portobello Pie

Portobello Pie

Last night was horrible
I stabbed him in the leg
with a dirty steak knife.
Of course I'm joking,
everything went perfect
nothing terrible happened.
You should have been there.
You had the perfect opportunity.
You talk about how you want to
but when the time comes
you back out, always.
Fuck man, I just wanted
to do something FUN.
"But now in retrospect
was it all worth admission?"
I'm fucking melting man.
"Sleeping in magma?"
Living in hell.
I cant get out of me.
And I'm just so fucking depressed.

Dear Nigeria


Dear Nigeria

As a citizen of the United States,
I would like to thank you for all of the wealth
and riches you have bestowed upon us
since before and during this economic state of crisis.
We are truly flattered. Millions of us.
Everyday thousands receive floods of opportunity
when the drought is driest. And its all from you.
The best part is, you only ask for a few tiny steps.
Name, birthday, bank account info, and
an invaluable Social Security number.
Just give a little bit of that and you'll give
us a posthumous inheritance from an old  relative.
Or from your government directly! How awesome.
Considering you lay upon 
a never-ending pile of money,
you decide to share and help desperate Americans
who may have just lost their job, house or family.
How you can manage to dish out 5,500%
of your own annual GDP is nothing short of stunning.
But now i believe i speak for all of us when I say,
in the most humble fashion;
Could you please send this charity to other countries
that may now need it more than we do.
Nearby Ethiopia perhaps.
Or at least transfer a billion to Haiti.
Since Chile's quake just hit, 
I bet they could use the money too.
But we no longer require your help.

Signed
                    Sar Casm

HTMLephant

HTMLephant

We live in a times new roman.
Embeded with any sound or sight we can think of
at our fingertips. We have arial access 

to just about any information you can think of.
And info you cant imagine.
Help 24/7. Online courier.
Indians with faux names.But wait,
Spellcheck this out, people can learn anything
but waste every opportunity just to create 

false identities.
With PCi & ethernet we can be whoever we want.
So long as we're plugged in.
Criminals can be normal, normals can be criminal.
Busty blonde beauties leave the keyboards lonely.
Activating sticky keys. 

Dressing up for friend requests,
commenting on the most pointless things in hopes
of being considered KEWL by someone you don't know.

Following is uber kewl lulz.
Our typing becomes very clear 

as text must be, in order
to fully and correctly express our emoticons.
Pretty soon, this will be all we have. 

This will be our world. Just a grid. No more life. 
Only plants of power and HTMLephants.

Nuit Visage

Nuit Visage

Every night its different
Sometimes its a doctor's mask and 3D glasses
or a winter coat with a fur trimmed hood and earbuds.
Dark hoodies, light hoodies, one glove
maybe two if i can find another.
Always jeans when its cold.
Colder nights require layers.
But there are times during this season
when its just a T shirt and pants.
Or a wildcard blindfold
so I can only listen.

Pour Earl

Pour Earl

Happy are the poor in spirit.
Happy when they pour in spirit.
Happy is the spirit, poured into the mind
Happy is the soul, for it will never die.
Happy is the poor girl following her dreams.
Happy is Pour Earl, pouring out his green.
Happy is the bartender, pouring all his drinks.
Happy are the wife and kids now that they are free.
Happy is the man with a bottle for his dinner.
Happy is the mind to rid the body of the liver.
Happy is the doctor's bad news to be delivered.
Happy is the earth to have a body now to wither.
Happy are the poor in spirit
Happy when they pour in spirit
And Pour Earl lost his spirit
the day that he first bought his spirit.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Fire Starter

Fire Starter

I see a myriad of weird shit constantly.
Like a fence mocking me!
Chain links shaping hands and arms
grass make its feet & give it some charm.
Only when i look does it wave to me.
And all its intentions are plain to see.
The anger it makes is greater than great
But I have since learned this stranger is safe. 

So now every night, through shadow and light
I finish reflecting and wave it goodnight.

Two Hours Too Soon


Two Hours Too Soon

Two hours too soon
was when i last bloomed.
And like a kids lost balloon,
the trees held the moon.
The snow was perfumed
by statuesque gloom
approaching its doom
no sooner than soon.

Two hours ahead
the sky was dark red,
the world was in bed
resting like dead.
The moments I've said
are true in my head
clearer than diamonds
and heavy as lead.

Two hours before
the stroking of four
my eyes took a tour
from the stars to the floor.
I'm merely a moor
begging for more
on a field in a war
of steel and velour.

Sweet Slow Death

 Sweet Slow Death

Mona, Mona, Mona.
How she is blessed in thrills.
Syringes & lingerie,
how she is dressed to kill.

Mona, Mona, Mona.
Soiled mockery of doves.
Sleeping are her victims
coiled properties of blood.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Praising Paradox

Praising Paradox

One straight shot through every time.
Last minute strength with quick thoughts.
Who would have thought
procrastination was such a sweet gift?
The feeling of finding your calling in this life
can easily be overwhelming.
I wish I could help everyone feel this way.
Its gorgeously enticing once you grasp it.
But it takes an open mind.
For example, my gift is my true vice.
undoubtedly my life would be different without it 
but regardless I live.
I can't sacrifice my own happiness as much as I'd like to.
And, I can rarely feel truly happy.
I merely have moments of joy.
The rest of my time is selfish.
And lonely, cant forget lonely.
But my dreams keep me going
and now that I've realized all of this
I am sure I will one day be truly happy knowing
my vice is my true gift.

Trees & Polish

Trees & Polish

The trees bend like beautiful women
swaying about above barenaked ladies.
But its dark so I cant actually see it.
I just know. I feel it. Its there.
If you don't believe me
try it for yourself. Go on.
Late at night or early in the morning.
Its the same exact time regardless.
You can feel them breathing, the trees.
They live forever for they give everything life.
So much power, grace, and skill.
Yet so humble. They are saviors
of the sands, saving sapience
for the wicked and delusional.
When it rains,
they swim, drink and drown.
When its sunny they dance.
They never sleep,
they never stare.
They never speak,
but they are there.

Interrupted Silence

Interrupted Silence

I spend increasingly more time in silence.
It helps my thoughts feel pure.
Untainted.
Images of cows being shoved by bulldozers.
Sounds of comically epic music.
Credits and black screens.
Paid programming.
Nu wave, Bullet Express,
a machine making pizza out of scraps.
See what i mean? One minute of the noise box
clouds my thoughts and leans 

every word i think over a cliffs edge.
When the power is off,
my power is on.
When its power is on, I'm powerless
to its constant jumble of the unimportant.
I can flee but I strive to overcome this.
I've spent the bulk of this life alone
so silence isn't irregular, noise I can't control is.
Colors, pictures, images, voices.
It feels like you're insane when your senses
pick up these things without permission.
There's no use continuing right now,
for once again my silence is interrupted.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Veronika Kirsch: From A Fragile Star




Calamity of the world. 
Slopes of flesh in
peppermint foam. 
We move in love.
move in desire.
Love for your skin.
I'll tell you of my faith
-of my desire
to see you succeed,
surpass useless chai teas
and ignorant messages.
I hold you high. Too high,
if you ask me.
But i can't let you down.
You hold my mind.
completely homicidal.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

If Mirrors Existed

If Mirrors Existed

There's something comforting
about a conspiracy theory.
And being weary of fearing.
But i say fear is ignorance;
do you hear me?
Like judging Timothy Leary.
Its eerie to think.
Possibilities sink
deep in your mind
like sound in a mime.
You'll be fine.
We all will with time
as we decline.
We recline feeding these lines
to our young
like they're baby birds
and we're spilling out worms
that keep spelling out words.
Worms we chew
and
words we choose.
Birds we lose
to the hurt we do.
But lets blame those
scapegoats we made
for we're hateful.
Today though,
I say no.
To you
and your faithful.

Driving To Paragon

Driving To Paragon

Bathing in hatred
over petty 

materialistic needs.
Showered in fear.
Scared of things 

not working out.
I never fear anything,
so when i feel this way
it has meaning.
Everyone
on the block
had their lights turned off.
It was as if
my surroundings were telling me
the beautiful thieves
were going to win this fight
and there was nothing
i could do about it
but count the losses 

until i forgot.
Lord knows forgetting is what I'm good at.
And that fence mocked me for it!
This time
with a face and voice attached
to its cadaverous chain links.
But i tell you,
I don't believe it.
Its a test. A trial.
I've seen my errors, as they occurred.
So I tell me;
Let it work out and be calm knowing
your karma
is driving to paragon.

Friday, February 19, 2010

The 4am Serenades Pt. I




Wind chimes played a song.
I'm not sure the title
but it was beautiful.
Was it an angel?

I'd never heard anything like it.
The breeze was on vacation.
The snow was settled in.
I glanced up
to the sight of a comet.
Or an angel.
I asked, "Christian,
is that you?"
The reply I received
was mere silence.
I smiled at Jeremiah,
the rabbit under the backboard.

The Long Wait For Glory

The Long Wait For Glory


I want to die
like Poe
deliriously dancing in the streets.
On Sunday
October 7,
1849.

I want to die
like God
on the cover of TIME.
On Sunday
April 10th
1966.

I want to die
like Jim, Jimi & Janis
in the 27 club, VIP.
On Sunday
July 23rd
2017.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Dancing on Soft Clocks

Dancing on Soft Clocks

I started moving mounds & hills
and trying to make the clouds stand still. 

Confessing thrills in a turtles booth
searching for eternal youth.
Where angels know me by my government name
& mockingbirds talk an awkward slang
"Peace will reign in a piece of rain"
said the sun unto the shade
which danced upon a window pane
sealed up tight by a widows pain.
I hear the fears of ancient seers
from younger years when tears were dear.
They howl like winds inside my ears
but only appear when no ones here.
Numbing hurt on hops & rocks.
Dancing fast on softened clocks.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Am I a Little Sick?

Am I a Little Sick?

Think you're interesting?
or Not?
Prove it to me.
Anyone & Everyone.
I ask a favor.
Tell me your best stories.
I've lost the feeling
of your existence.
Prove you have more emotion
than a refrigerator.
It can be about anything at all.
Bullshit,
Serious Shit,
Real
Actual
Shit.
It doesn't matter.
Spicy or Bland.
I'll add my own flavors
as should you.
I don't wish
to converse about them.
Merely listen.
Visually of course.
I look forward
to hearing from you.
But am i worth your time?

May 35th

May 35th

A million fingers
200,000 Eyes
100,000 people
1 Square.
Students, workers, citizens.
A foul leader with half a heart kept in his freezer
creating disorder where organized minds mesh
speaking out and praising
the Goddess of Democracy.
Respect was given though not deserved
while people starved themselves
in hopes of being heard.
Just a listen.
One day of his time
was worth more
than the lives of thousands.
Five hours.
Five hours to get everyone out.
When people didn't leave,
brilliantly dull brains decided to
fire on crowds.
Shells breathed slowly passing through flesh.
Big bloodhounds with tread buried futures.
But the job was done,
as was the damage.
Millions of eyes watched.
Billions are still watching the
Political Turmoil between Spring and Summer

Friday, February 12, 2010

Los Esclavos del Amor

Los Esclavos del Amor

Bianca's beautiful body bent in bliss
swerving so seductively.
Her hazy heart & headstrong habits
gush & glaze so gorgeously
 
Moments of moisture & mutual moaning make
intimate images intense & infinite.
Devil dancing so deep & delicate delivers
provocative pauses poised & primitive.

Artistic ambiance alluringly anxious as
lonely lust learns lovely loving.
Eagerly enfolding eternal enigmas,
whimper then whisper this wistful wanting.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Cara Mia La Bella

Cara Mia La Bella

Meeting
Greeting
Cheating
Fleeting
Lies inside her meeting greeting eyes
She's a swarm of cheating fleeting flies

Monday, February 8, 2010

Journée du 10 Août

Journée du 10 Août

"You hold up in the royal apartments.
Warm, safe, fat.
Civilians are at unease by your tongue
and by your tongue they may well die.
Ultimatum.
Dethronement.
At the burning of midnight's oil
the wolves shall be silent
and only the moon will howl.
Doubt us not
for we fight to right the wrongs 
of your regime. 
Heed my word, Louis, for
that alone can drive any man,
brittle and brawn alike,
to extraordinary will.
Your royal highness, kick the crown."
Silence consumes the scene
briefly, that is, until the tocsin
belts out like the seventh trumpet.
Warnings were given, now lives are taken.
Only 1 of every 9 survives the night
and oh how the great Babylon falls.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Life Can't Be Measured in Cents & Dollars

Life Can't Be Measured in Cents & Dollars

Libs are socialists fags
& conservatives are religious tyrants.
Simple. Simple. Simple.
Say what you want
about whatever you want
but we are not prophets.
We are not spiritual guides.
We are people. People with opinions.
And just because we speak sternly
doesn't phase our words into fact.
You think speaking your mind
on subjects bigger than you can fathom
will get you your way
but it won't.
Good people die
in this country for no reason.
No one deserves to die.
Especially not because
they can't afford insurance.
The country will be rewarded
when our leaders realize
life cant be measured in cents & dollars.

Midnight Memoir Masquerade

Midnight Memoir Masquerade

Do you remember the day
I laid and prayed in that
field of hay and said
"Hey!
Where are we?"
When the leaves were stars
and trees were scarves we'd wear
on our arms shaped like harps
which we would play with our hearts.
Do you remember the time that night
when the wind played chimes
like organ pipes
and life alike danced in strife?
It was 12:13 I believe I recall seeing
on that dark of spring. So dark indeed
those trees agreed while we made peace
and love so sweet.
Will you remember when
our love for all grows big and tall
and sprawled as long as the Taj Mahal;
when you gnaw and gnaw with your powerful jaws
until you make our tower
collapse and fall?
I won't at all for I'll be gone.

Reality of Perception

Reality of Perception

Autumn Trees
made
Falling Leaves
All these things that I've seen

Bats from Hell
rang
Catholic Bells
All these things that I dream

Matchbook smells
where
Rats would dwell
All these things that I dream

Calls of breeze
their
Songs would sing
All these things that I've seen

Sell Your Soul

Sell Your Soul

I've been here so many times before
I listen to their screams
Days may pass but the songs remain the same
Why won't they go away?

Why won't they go away
why won't they leave me in peace
they fucking follow me no matter where I go to sleep

Insomnia sets in.
I take a vow of silence.
My mind begins to riot filled with images of violence.

These people here are tyrants
Yelling. Screaming. Killing vibrance.
Acting mindless, leaving me all alone. I'm dead inside.

Its Love. Its hate. Its burning me away
Hellish recollections of my life in adolescence
This love. This hate. Is murdering the days
Countdown to my execution. That's the day when i just lose it.

I've been here so many times before
I listen to their screams
Years may pass but the songs remain the same
Why won't they go away?

Why wont they go away?
they always stay & sway
my brain through stages & phases that make me hate

Its time to change this & face it & make it pay.
And make it taste this. The taste of a razor-blade.

For years I've faked this. I say that its ok.
Four years today i was anxious & near insane.

These are my memoirs.
The kind I live for.
The kind I smoke, drink & fuck to get rid of.

I wish it was a dream.
For I cant feel a thing.
I'd sell my soul just to become who I wanna be.

Run, With Me

Run, With Me

Trust baby. Breathe.
Trust in me.
I am a 21st seer,
The lights, shadows,
stars and ground speak it
clearer than new born eyes.
The earth is our messiah.
Let free your intentions
and befriend the sky.
Belittle your body
expand your spirit.
See baby. Speak.
See in me.
The psychological being is your true entity.
Shower yourself with inspiration.
Believe the world is as it is.
But not as you view.
Open the doors containing your real thoughts.
You see life yet don't know it.
Dream baby. Be.
Dream with me.
Celestial tides are yours to sway.
The key is in us all.
Detach from all insecurities and
inscribe each phase of activity.
There are no mysteries.
Run Baby. Free.
Run with me.

Peyote Sandbox

Peyote Sandbox


Organic orgasms; Oohing and Ahhing

soothing and moving. A groovy way

of not complaining.

Pertaining to paying

close attention to ones ascension,

and did I mention? Dark intentions.

Hidden throughout, they always get in

and never get out.

The times have changed babe,

oh my have they. Today's youth displayed

don't stay in and pray, they go

out and play and play do they;

while bland cocks on the hill

stand watch when we frolic in our

peyote sandbox.