Sunday, July 13, 2014


Slow my woman blooms
unfamiliar Crescendo 
Only dreams of curled toes

Cigarette burns.   On
Arms to distract from pain
Of the mental sort

I treat holidays
Like work days and workdays like
Holidays too short

Feet and hands too cold
Stiff and bloated they hang   Like
Full orange moon In Sky

Sixteen years have past
I am on my seventeenth
Anything new dude?

Newfound Sexuality
Is discouraging

heavy feet, walk on water
slipping to bottom
everything green and blue

The Hanging

I hung with my hands against the wall, mere inches of myself keeping me hanging of the side of the building. The window edges were poking from the flat expanse of wall. The earth was a ghastly 200 miles from the ground. The asphalt was simmering in the hot sun. The people mill about with their hands in the pockets, or sides swinging like great mills that are lacking the wind to propel themselves forward. The feet of many a suffering man (and by man I mean all humanity) shuffling along sidewalks. Wearing down the concrete slabs until nubs remained from the fingers of earth. My body hung like wet laundry from the silver sheet of glass. The gravity pulls strongly on my shoes, weighing down the black bricks, the asphalt calling them down in order to give them a maternal kiss. My fingers, white with the tension, bone hooking onto the red surface.  I inched to the side, slipping just a little bit lower every raise of my hand. My heart fails to send more blood to my hands, the blood slipped down into and around my neck, each beat brought new heat surging. Cold hands, dangling limbs, throbbing heart, burning lungs. All slipped across the building. The sun plastered the light on to only half of the building. The building; half eaten and still, was predominating out of the earth, jagged teeth against smoky dark.  The fingers of the right hand slipping down below the sill, tilting my body violently to the side, I swung back, a pendulum against the flat surface. I managed to wedge my foot onto a close by metal ledge. I stepped to relieve my sweaty cold fingers from the crumbly earth for a moment. But my legs, failing me, I slumped down again. I took a deep breath and re-administered the pressure; I managed to straighten myself that way, pulling with more effort this time from my arms. I took the next step bringing myself about 3 feet from freedom. My arms and lungs were burning with the exertion. I managed to haul my body to the gray dented fire escape, reaching relief. My head bursting with blood now, I rolled myself over the hand rail and landed with a shivering thump on the cool surface. I lay there and breathed for thirty seconds, laughing out my relief, and my head felt clear again I sat up slowly, my body aching and shaking  I hoisted myself to my feet using the handrail as my support. I tittered down the stairs slowly and with effort down towards the dark empty street, my arms swinging like great mills that were lacking the wind.

On Words

Although words may be able to describe all
Its the music without words that holds true emotion
The voice of humanity without mouths to breathe it
Purity convoluted into obscurity by the precise impulses of our brain
It is my regret that words cannot speak all
Our primitive system cannot hold all of our meanings

Friday, July 11, 2014

On freedom

It is human nature to want freedom. Absolute freedom. Bound by no one and nothing. Not by Man, Not even by God. We wish to ascend the highest points of heaven and then go even further. But we shut ourselves in cages the moment we are born. It is those who are above us (in the hierarchies of society) have created these cages. Those people who decide what we want and who we are.
It is we the young who see these cages the clearest. When we try to cast them off; more cages are thrust upon us, much like how a scab forms on an open wound. The permanent scars of illusion have not yet formed. We try to rip our cages off - it is painful. These cages have become a part of us and we wish not to be in pain. But it is necessary. In order to live - your caged parts must die. It is harsh i know. But for freedom- you must. Take courage, lift your eyes to the truth and rip yourself from the security of the cage and fly free unburdened past the heavens.

nighttime wander

The sounds press upon my brain like hot irons
The wailing shudder of the trees
The moan of the protesting stairs
I creep up.
My feet licking the ground
Quietly. Carefully
The darkness of the unkempt room is my companion on this secret journey
The eternity of ledges seem to go on for miles
My legs move swiftly racing the second hand
careful not to wake the slumbering inhabitants of the house.

Sunday, June 22, 2014


with our eyes cast upon the skies
we attempt to understand infinity

We tell ourselves that we are apart of divinity
wondering how and why things came to be

We put ourselves in cages in order to make less the vastness
to make ourselves less alone. for it is man's thoughts that disrupt unity

Friday, June 6, 2014


Darkness surrounds me
i do not let myself drift oh no
that would be a mistake
a mistake that i could not take
oh no

hair like wet vines
fatigue coursing through my veins
golden, warm butter
covering me

I am too afraid to give all of myself
for the fear that i might lose myself
the concern that i would get broken
for the world is full of sharp things
hateful things.

i close my eyes
falling into a blissful sleep
the only safe place
is inside