Monday, September 13, 2010


She sits,
Filters in the tobacco
She sits,
Tension releases,
Smoke dances a
halo around her crown
Her lips are espresso
Her tongue, forked
Narration of the last 23 years on skin
A pen rests between the pointer and the thumb
Today's canvas, still vacant
Today's mood, frustrated
She realizes
He will never call again,
Left side of the bed, a ghost town
It's not fair
Breakfast skipped since,
The kitchen has too many memories
There was once love here
Every morning, she sits
If it wasn't for a 9-5 she would stay in bed
She sits,
Zombie on the a.m. drive
Punches in
Punches out
She sits,
Zombie on the p.m. drive
Ignores the 2 missed calls and 4 text messages
Through the cafe doors
She is not a regular
Orders a double espresso and a cup of ice
She sits,
She tries to write
She sits,
She tries to fight
She sits,
If I could offer anything
I would
I sit,
staring at her pain,
I sit.


Wednesday, September 8, 2010

poetic exercise

forget what you heard,
i am to spoken word
what ham is to cured,
treacherously lecherous,
my infectious lectures bust
nuts inside of aural guts,
my tonality trumps your banality,
infinitely create hyper-reality,
with just a tongue-twist,
i've never missed your sun-kissed
tits, digitally enhanced 64-bits,
you give analogue monologues,
but mine stream clearly
like mp3, a b c, baby you know me,
i interface with the Gods,
5-star rated rhymes on ipods,
sick as a cancer ward,
the illmatic 21st century bard,
so, forget what you heard,
i'm reinventing the past,
painting my own future:
prophetically pathetic,
pathetically un-dialectic,
but, undeniably eclectic,
shit, i feel hermetic,
that is,
sealed like a word ham,
or, canned like verbal spam...damn.


Friday, September 3, 2010


...still confused...

I know what's in my heart, but I gotta make my way through the maze of days like everybody else...

...I've built up walls and judgements and opinions out of my experiences.

I have an open mind to the most unexpected of things, and close it up quick to the things one might think I would be all for.

I have been the only white kid in all black neighborhoods in Northern California.

I have been the only Californian in a high school full of rednecks in Central Oklahoma.

I have been the only poor kid in an upper class town in Massachusetts.

I have seen shots fired, been knocked around. I've knocked fools out and felt great remorse.

I have been judged for my thoughts and screamed til I was hoarse.

I have been locked up too many times to mention, and I've argued with Republicans about the importance of a pension.

I have disagreed with Democrats on some liberal hippie bullshit. I've memorized prayers then heard them preached down from a pulpit.

I've spit in her face. This other woman spit in mine. I've recited the same poem over a hundred times.

I've bragged about accomplishments to anyone who would listen. I have felt like a failure while considering a possible new mission.

I'm just like you, we all sit down to poo. We all gotta eat, sometimes we all face defeat.

I've smoked meth in crack houses from Hollywood up to Reno. I've hung out with hookers and been at knife-point outside the casinos.

I have been clean and sober for over two and a half years...but, still I have been known to bring a loved one to tears.

...I love myself like crazy, and I've got a lot of work to do. I love the rest of you too, even though you all sit down to poo.

...fuckin' weirdos.

...still, I'm confused.

Oh yeah, one more thing: I always know what I'm doing.


Wednesday, September 1, 2010

poetic excercise

don't hate on me,
i'm this way Occidentally,
that is, Western Culture fashioned me,
which is why reluctantly
i am plagued with that malady
consuming conspicuously
with a hunger characterized by insatiability,
post-modern non sequitur train of thought,
immaculately conceived, divinely begot,
my soul was raided by barbarous germanic tribes
my thoughts written on papyrus by scribes
my love for life was never requited
and, though i've danced with devils
i was never delighted,
but tonight, i gotta get my mind right,
forget about hindsight,
focus on the lime light,
take my cue in this theatre of the absurd
and, prove to the world that,
in fact, it is possible to polish a turd.