Archive for March, 2014


Then, being struck by a swift-sudden chill
Groaning & shivering, bodies froze still

One man stood mumbling, looking out the gate
The dream through which moments ago I came
He began to stir, pacing & waiting
Noticing me, he approached debating,

& you! Do you know, what it is to be?
Oh Hannah, my Hannah, I/m so sorry…
Being in time, time in being; I wrote…
Never mind the swastikas on my coat,
I told a thousand Jews a thousand times,
Intended to change things from the inside.

Interest lost, he turned back for the door
Though he muttered, he spoke to me no more

I waded through vapor rising from ice
Bodies frozen still by their own device
& across this sheet was Ronnie Reagan
Freezing, begging, with the other masons

I neared the middle of the frozen room
There He was feasting; guarding the blue tomb

You are the Beast & this is your disease.
I did as you pleased; me, you must release. 

Must I now? You, junkee, know what I need?
I/ve truly seen you. You live on your knees.
Yet, still quite curious, please do pray tell:
What would charm you from a warm home like hell? 

I must confess, I sizzle with the best.
But I/ve nothing left & there/ll be no rest.
My suffering is, with or without you.
Turn me loose, I gave the devil his due.
I/ve learned the truth from you, oh Prince of Lies

He stretched open his mouth & outpoured flies
Their buzzing a noise I did recognize
My alarm buzzed; the dream now realized

The Circles

Posted: March 30, 2014 in Poetry


Convalesced with the best
can see my footprints
across the Margate Sands

Somehow living
bearing witness
to Eliot’s Waste Land

I/ve known

I now believe

Prayers for the dying

American beauty

Shades of former self
never fail to form

Dreaming dead dreams
despondent desperation
my own house of pain

We/re all in denial

We/re all the same

We know we/re wicked

We reside right by
death the inspiration

We kill our-self
not for ourselves
for we are filthy

On the wrong side

Find spirituality
only traverse
through means of verse

Descend into the limbo
my whole life rehearsed

Nothing funny
in divine comedy

The comfort of being sad

Rambling insanity

Schooled by sins
the absence of dads

Circling seven times
the seventh circle

With Plath

Saw Cobain

Somewhere else souls
lost in this abyss

T.S. said he would
show me fear in a handful of Jesus
so I forsook the God
in which they trust
before I nodded
down through to
number nine

Number nine

Number Nine…

Burnt Offerings

Posted: March 28, 2014 in Poetry

Already burned

Thought you heard

Better late than never

Felt time pour
Like slow concrete

Once formed

Hard escape

Ship is going down

We/re still in chains

Of own devices

It/d be wise

Jump over the side

While there/s time


Proud captains

Sittin/ – Mappin/

Charting paths to a fraction

Full of shit

Ain/t sinking with this ship

I was drenched

I was baptized

I was burned

Better off dead

Clawed my way back

No one expects that

A way out this trap

From these vessels

We must walk away

Not from ourselves

From the pain

Consumption & greed

Consuming every need

The ability to see

Into each other

Anything sacred

Anything to believe

Becoming scared

Of myself

This unnatural culling

Caught in time

Operation clandestine

Discovered to be crucified

One way or another

We are woven
Into a design




A revelation

Some indication

To keep moving forward

In the same direction

Those who give advice

Need advised the most

Especially those

Around more skeletons
Than hungry ghosts

A clever trap

These words we say

A loaded gun

Careful with that axe

The way we treat someone

Is the way they start to behave

For us all;
They will pray

While watching us fall

Some just love an underdog

Focus from this fog

Find sanctuary

Come stand with me

It/s all I need

No need for reason

With so much doubt
Let/s make this system
Curse the day
It let us out

Animals subdued
Locked in a cage

Did they really think
We/d come back the same?

Because I change

The world doesn/t change

Its opinion of me

Just have to change

This entire reality

Quantum physics

A lesson in civics

A great return

A long sojourn

A white flag

Another day of the dead

Blank pages we tore

So we could read more

Be again my brother

There is yet one more door

Black-Tar Heroine

Posted: March 27, 2014 in Poetry


Many try to
pick locks she lay

though I seem lost

follow signs to
lose the way

I believe there exists
keys to the dead
bolts so complex.

Never cease these
desperate attempts

figments of forever

reduced to ashes

a never say never

an odd feather
from a phoenix.

There was a time
I would die

for my dark queen

of dismally dying suns

obsequious servants

like collapsing stars

an imploding gravity
wasting lives
ruining love.

Physiology generating

her scent intoxicating

no thought of depth
of descent give
this devil her due

we know her ends

yet suffer her abuse

How many times

must we prepare
ourselves to die

changing self
shedding skin


upon ascent

a sad sack
of flesh & bone.

Maybe there will be
a day this forgetful
world remembers me

after leaving me
for dead before
washing me
out in the cold sea.

As for the now
it will seam

my journey begins
ends back home

don/t regret the words
I/ve said every one
recorded in a black tome.

Time thaws time’s
trivial tears

spring/s the season
we reap what we
already sown

I felt the growing
pains I slowly learned
I/m under grown
for the world.

someday came near

something blessed me
to help me breathe

one day the
bars snapped things
didn/t seem so strange

but it was my home
I was scared to leave.

Stop breathing air
so she will be
unable to catch
breath stay strong
while she/s dying

here we pray
for silent death

while we beg
for our lives.


SO we sit

just the tick-tock

thoughts & bones

behind doors I lock

send me away

to the white sands

give me one day

my life in my hands

they got a lot
to say policed
like a road block

hoping our heads
will one day lay

on greener lands

tired of concrete

that weighs heavy

upon feet

cracks in the street

creating steady
drum beats.


there becomes disease

from being hungry

from living

if it/s call living

when on our knees

want it all

all to burn

I won/t be happy

till I get my turn

burnt out retinas

shifty eyes

only then


the weakness
of these lies.

Rise, rise

phoenix burn.

Rise, rise

from your scarred knees.

Hungry Ghost

Posted: March 26, 2014 in Poetry

All fire burns;
it/s the color the flame

Everyone burning
the same

The blue is our passion

Its fruit is sadness

Sickness exposed
by social impurity

Surfaces systems
on us imposed

Supplicating servants

Denied devotees

Prayers unanswered

The jaded wandering

A wilderness of madness

Stay searching
for the Promised Land

We hear of it
though never achieved

Curse of Moses
begins a dream


Can/t sew shut these eyes

Never surrender

Pay a buck
kneel down to pray
when you can/t
catch the breath to cry.


Posted: March 25, 2014 in Poetry, Prose

The days of snowflakes & pretty flowers are over.
We are products of concrete, chemical toxins, 60-second commercials, & capitalism.
We watched human beings disintegrate off this earth for the sake of procuring a few gallons of oil.
Robert Frost doesn/t belong here.
You better learn to crawl & act accordingly.
I will help put the American street poets on the map.


Posted: March 25, 2014 in Poetry

Better to let them walk away
While you still have your warm house to burn down
Best watch what it is that you say
They learn to recognize truth through its sound

Should/ve been exposed long ago
If only a hand a bit more friendly
Sharpened by this abyss they/ve known
Their tongues now serpents, no smile goes gently

Slithering through semen done spent
Tinkered t0ys touched timidly; dirty times
Hand delivered & to hell sent
Disguise your lies with lullabies & rhymes