Archive for April, 2014

ZENspeak finalSTREETedition

Posted: April 28, 2014 in Uncategorized

The book is finally completed:

America Rising

Posted: April 25, 2014 in Poetry

Esoteric verses gather us
Lay hands like Jesus
Resurrect Lazarus
20:22 Leviticus
We/re here for the land promised us

Suffering of Dionysis

Posted: April 24, 2014 in Poetry

Your body circles my mind
like a shark
like the stars
swirl around
the galaxies
/round a drain
Scar myself
Flesh to keep you
Pick you up
Carry you
Your pain buried
deep inside
But we know
never will
things be the same
between us

Just breathe
Just try
Let be
Let die
Then leave
If there
On return
Still care
We will burn

A lot more to poetry
than mere words
no matter how
the verse
can/t be real
if the truth
doesn/t hurt


Not smart enough.

Not straight enough.

Not fake enough.

Not big enough.

Not poor enough.

Not rich enough.

Not gay enough.

No label.

Pressure pounding,

get in where you fit in.

Feel a freak.





Addiction always accepts applicants.



Never mind pharmaceuticals

on every corner,

every billboard,

every commercial,

smiles for tears.

Never mind the food industry

your dinner full of chemicals,

years upon years.

Did they really think this wouldn/t change things?

Not alter physiology?

There is a disenfranchised army

of genetically altered mutants

wandering the streets these daze.

Terrifying the machine.

They can start it.

They can contain it.

They can lie to us about it.

They can throw us in


But they can not




You are a small part

of a great-big

divine consciousness.

Do not ever forget:




Maybe 2012 was the end,

of a programmed-bullshit-commercial-reality,

fed to us intravenously,


permeating pores.

There are no beginnings without ends



A curled-up mutt,
on the side of the road,
waiting to die.

Nursed to health by the kindness of others.

People that had every reason to spit.

As much in our hearts to care as it is in our nature to hurt.

Power sleeps in our hearts.

Many feel powerless;
everyone & everything,
has a say in the direction of life,
but those whose life it is.

The corporate community wants a world without spirituality.

Without hope.

To all look & think the same.

Unable to do anything for ourselves.

Needing the corporations to do it for us.

This ultramodern-social structure being imposed is unnatural.

Individuality fades away.

In this some are thriving.

They don/t want to rock the boat.

Why would they?

Hope they understand they/re an endangered species.

One day…
…it/ll be sink or swim with the rest of us.


I love my fucking city.

Every day I watch a little more of it burn away.

If their world is a stage,
& I/m but an actor in a play,
I want a new disguise.

Tired of the makeup that hides the lines.

But I am happy for these guys.

A show of hands.

How they find ways to profit under any circumstance.

Employment opportunities suffering creates.

It/s great.

People die here.

Controlled by fear.

No clear destination.

This is what happens when you let yourself be taxed without representation.

We nodded off at the wheel.

We missed out on the NEW deal.

We got kicked in the gut.

We have to wake up.


Gothic America

Posted: April 14, 2014 in Poetry

designer clothes
designed to look
mascara running

Is not America satanic?

Bear scars
infected arms
triggered alarms
known tricks
sell their souls
quite quick
for a bag
get off sick
where existence
is measured & weighed
factored as economy
you/re telling me
about dark reality

Fuck Crowley.

Want scary
…heart of darkness
the INNER city
behind buildings
under bridges
inside bathroom stalls
are our cities’ deepest pits
where real darkness sits

Where are the true Gothic?

Those who burned
the body of Percy
his heart collected
from the ashes
of the funeral fire
human heart notorious
for it’s difficulty
to burn properly
before encompassed
by Adonais
wrote for legacy
& tragic friends

Lights that never stay with us.

Where are the:
Keats & Byrons & Shelleys & Coleridges now?

Who will light the pyre for America?

For poetry IS dying…
who here will burn their hand
taking the red-white-blue
from the embers of the fire
wrapping it in
the blood-soaked constitution

My Silent Forest

Posted: April 8, 2014 in Poetry

They tell a good story

Talk a lot, forget

…but I remember

Seeing either the back of her

Or the back of his hand

Never good looks at the face

Be no fair trial for them

Police sketch I/ll trace

I am awake

Still see the pictures hanging

Feel them staring down on me

Cool air so clean, so quiet

Simply deceiving

Hidden horror the fans echo

Listening; knowing sleep/d be soon

& that stale room

Memory loom

I am awake

Remember being strapped down

A room with no windows

Other than one on the door

Covered with a piece of paper

Blank & taped &

Secured from other side

A doctor finally came

Had a real colorful tie

I am awake

The fever that builds & burns

Everything; incinerating

Anything, in its wake

Can not speak its name

Once exorcised

Its reach is legion

A mighty foe I/ve made

Fear gives it reasons

I am awake

Anxiety crashing from crescendo

Living, running, knowing

Any moment may be the last

Breath breathed freely

Streets are never far behind

But you can/t stop

The power of Christ compels you

Better off in a padded room

Nothing but time to think it through

I am awake

The concrete madness

Of thieves & rapists & murderers

& a guy that tried

To staple children to the floor

A horror show where everyone is a maestro;

A virtuoso; connoisseur of the cuisine

Friendships reduced to potato chips

Where all there is, is a dream

I am awake

To those sad faces we lost

Forever slipped through sands of time

For it all to be so simple

Just getting what you give

Bodies demised, bruised & riddled

Rendered memories in sacristies

Some do not live

Only here to take

But now we are awake…