Saturday, March 28, 2009

Howl Zeppelin III (you know how it is)

Howling zeppelins scarring underbellies
texture reminiscent of mountain tops rubbed smooth
the fires still ember strongly / naturally

I find a new summit opposite the plateau
for us to create worlds still
simply under a sunset glinting aurora
in a tremulant of fresher hues
fractal jazz / the flora and fauna

what happens in the holding bay
of an cliff ward zeppelin when
there are no formations for its descension
besides the painting aft chain from the sky?
just let it hit the water

Howl Zeppelin II (you know how it is)

The same
dippings wet their wicks
on cuticle poems and vapor lyrics
flashed in a rain of passion
I can't help but clear my throat
of all this art I supposed
at the knees of our high tides
embankments disengage shone the brightest
when your radiance was nervous system electric
a murdering experience resurrecting a woeful womb
a joyful lambs hoof quartered as the moon
I fear that I will all ways love you fear
that I have been a victim to the comfort
my heart felt for falling I fear
that I do not fear because the weight
of a birth defect's disfigurement
is not a labor of uncertainty

adjacent the basement and rotting bones
a compliment for the molds growth knows not the edges

remember when the sheets starved us of our lower halves
we laid naked to the waist and breathing heavily
enough that the sun rose with each gaping laugh we stoked
loudly and wide smiled enough your eyes slivered slates like sun light
bereavement is a fiend thieving that this is something that you could ever deny

what to do with the shearing halves hemisphere broke the skin
what to do to give you planets atmosphere
what to do to separate the fault lines
what was less than you had
what was more was that I spat physics on the consistency
you quantum religious the two between could ever let you in?

Howl Zeppelin (you know how it is)

I drank you in a dream of tattooed isis ensembles
stuck my seeds in obituaries denied
and I cannot be certain of the dust I seen
click stacked under burden of their assemble

I read you amidst the quiver dogs teeth
anthropomorphic / the child inside relitigated
fevers at the touch of my surgeons hands described
as ions detracted amongst the chemical imbalance
and tinker heavy only since you've been at my side
indigenous I must remember your climate is not
binary not organic but crawling backwards as the
septic woman spoke / almost mythologically so
I cannot be one to back star any prevailed truth
surrounding legitimacy of your (yes, your) text feed

the wavering transparency
to your distracted eyes of my clawing walls
is the closest your molten aircraft to my quilled castle
that you will ever come

in a moat throat sung found torrential you are drunk

in a wrote horns contort to tones with no dead lies
compass is an island from which the center you will find no dye-rection
I must remain for you only as the foot note ascribes
I hope for your sake you one night find
a cedar clearing in the out stretch of your mind
brass malice encompass is an island from which the center heaves
with lust a trench I weave to the sounds of another day
I hoped that tomorrow I would still feel the same

I can only hope that tomorrow I will still feel

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Kanvas Kuts

FOREWORD march / 'esir
we be boys flackin' spray paint
across the brick walls of a
thousand ear drums beats and
no I don't care what concerns are aired
what others words are spared
'cause I kut this canvas myself from bone and hair
ergo the organism is fucking fresh
like it just been packaged and not a scrap left
I sever words like toast totemed upon tonal originality
crowds leave the long haul for need of a nurse and triage...stat


so let's get on and engage this brutality
burbank battle school free from the rules
and stank of responsibility from the swamp tank
war mongers with no civility
and please believe presenting me with no thanks

hazy as gravy muckin' about blockhead fools
enunciated as maybes shout shuckin' lock stock
dangling body parts in the deep end of the kiddie pool
blizzards / what's my primary objective
victims / tell me what should be my next prerogative
and I'll tell ya where the venom lives
how to suck a teaspoon like sandpaper and rug burns
finger tips under shorts skirts that's the secret purse
where I keep my vented and fur lined wisdom
where I orchestrate information snuff films
organized and labeled in bottles like
once upon a time there was an encapsulated vision
spittin' refracted reflections of aerosol pistons
our inanimate manifested mystics scrawling
soul songs hung on about how

This system's missed missioned symptoms
since I must have missed the dissed spliff
between hot man and cold God's alienated cyst
trawled bogs called sissies fallen soggy crawls
with limp wrists lifted in a last ditch attempt
to iron out maybe scout or crisp up it's lisp
perhaps lynch a better sinched nerve
but It lacks the word
so God finds Itself perturbed
at me and what It thinks It heard me
spread whispers 'round the mulberry tree
rumors about non existent clits / clack
kinda like this but even more like that
useless shit's simple / just suckle
It's supple crippled crimp inch dick ever
since sought gifts been stacked *hack*
biffed off of lists *racked*
tricks like dogs rinse piss in a slovenly
rubber malleable as my last lobotomy
flustered summer's rot / can
however unfortunately the same place
I planned on pitching my pot / plant

Kanvas Kuts pinned a name on my rut
whether I like it or not
no matter which ways I sways
I'ma always stay the same ol' page
bustin' my gut onto the same blank page
so I'm lookin' for the difference
I'm lookin' for the pen
the free line on the brick wall that wont fall
where's my disturbance?
the wind that'll turn over
a new cover under my agin' hand?
where's my handle? where's my pan?
where's the foot in my sandle?
where's the worth in my grand$?

coincidentally the harvest came in star
and moon with the timing of the hot flash
stay crouched under the bullet sing bomb blast
not a single human left to arm or man
electrician's boiler suits cover up tattoos
skin deep proof born for a right to no life
needles and knives contrived
personified as blazed sluts covered up
robbed brats corrupt imagination barred
from what you know is phat / no trims cut
is the sly cat blissing under wide brimmed hats
slit but not scarred burning as blunts but not marred
grin soaking fronted methodies like harmonies
focused through a smoke stack and what's that
pulling cards like if trap's soft skinned snapped
beveled emboss / capped inside a tunnel
where it don't snow the dry wind knows
how to get me hard how stiff the smoke blows
off the project rooftops I dropped
leavin' notta but I ought'a disrupt the air waves
a beautiful mark on the concrete
an urban legendary memory is what I'll be
even in the wake of a 21 gun salute
offered by the 3 factions of the disillusioned
I hollered
"Something Has To Change"
...they stayed the same
and still hold my ghost in revery

Kanvas Kuts pinned a name on my rut
whether I like it or not
no matter which ways I sways
I'ma always stay the same ol' page
bustin' my gut onto the same blank page
so I'm lookin' for the difference
I'm lookin' for the pen
the free line on the brick wall that wont fall
where's my disturbance?
the wind that'll turn over
a new cover under my agin' hand?
where's my handle? where's my pan?
where's the foot in my sandle?
where's the worth in my grand$?

where's the payload that don't sink in sand?
the gummy hole that don't stink up my hands?
it's in the nervous knot's home of my stomach
full of your scent and starved to not vomit
drippin' from the inside of your ivory thigh
to the outside of my cobra arm / don't cry
just come back with fifty two coffers full
known how to get me off grab my hair and pull
black and blue and purple from the hard slap
light the candle and let the wick drip
a queen with a quart of rope a sharpened ace
a red jack a spade in your leaf hole
three thin blades a can of mace
extract
what we'll use as lace from dried seconals
glazed Bolivian marigolds a heavy haul carry 'em
bring 'em home and we'll get 'em sold
AHCK! derelict jettisoned not a single r-e-a-s-o-n
at the top of the trees faith rust and weather spoiled
emptied by the bottle full chug 'er back and get 'er done
I be fucked up enough to know how to construct a cuddle mold
a chariot spinning to the center of some better sun

cyclical and non nervous / bad habits
the core of the earth vows no protection
for anyone who pries from it's lands a hatchet
fresh moss / wet dirt / angled projections
and so what does that make of the best of us
molds of us from melted glass from tempered sand
and we are left with what becomes us
sly grins cut lips brass knuckles
a bad habit for collapsing canvas
broken fingers / satchels / buckles
tape decks iron necks and nails
that kinda shit breeds construction
reasons why I slug conduction at all
of the right mind and of the all tongue
the all seeing eye of art is the all blooming sky
of men and of women / of the old and the young
the all seeing eye of art is the all blooming sky
of where I can't seem to stop
so I paint a universe for myself
of a place where I can start
the all seeing eye of art is the all blooming sky
of where I just cannot seem to stop
so I paint a universe for myself
of a beautiful place where I can start

Kanvas Kuts pinned a name on my rut
whether I like it or not
no matter which ways I sways
I'ma always stay the same ol' page
bustin' my gut onto the same blank page
so I'm lookin' for the difference
I'm lookin' for the pen
the free line on the brick wall that wont fall
where's my disturbance?
whether I like it or not
I'ma always stay the same ol' page
bustin' my gut onto the same blank page
so I'm lookin' for the difference
so I'm lookin' for the difference
I'm looking for the difference

Monikers

Broken Arms
Tesorset
12 O'clock Patron
Mosse Knoll

Friday, March 20, 2009

You Can't See Me

The jasper swelled from where feathers sprung
to the size of gasping breathes took upon
ghosts cellophane telephoning my apartment
I swung free the door hinges
as to welcome in the poltergeists
but found myself so yellow I was orange
transparent as a spirit myself
a host hazel assumed neglected
the remnants reflection of fireworks
to the back side of floorboards and shelf
a nervous creaking sound a breeding ground
a mound crafted from the wood shavings
and kindling that once was my home
and viewing point for the singes singing strings
now only fuel for the hunger of my ghostly brethren
spark toothed and angling fervent
a mistake sewn too late
I was ripped apart by the memory of my torment

oh how I cried for a chance
for what I claimed a right to overstep the threshold
of my spaciously overpopulated inferno
from the inside to external mount abode collapsible
I denied the lie intent remappable
I'm just the fuck out for a 2/6
and a bottle of cream soda we can use as mix
I'ma cop from the neighbors house
so don't worry bout pitching
keep your flaming benjamins
for breakfast in the morning
'cause by then I'll be devoid
of all known dollars and cents
inhibitions and recompense
from this hangover moment
I'll wear my soul on the outside as a warning
I've learnt so much about where demons reside
not stone still they travel with the beautiful fates
in the misconstrued clockwork faces of omens
in the poetry I have yet to write to spite all things
postdated erased and only when I say so stolen

I'm only visible when I let you see me
though the sun glares off'a my ghostly teeth
in the poetics seething that's not me and a pen
breathing but dejavu off your 6 side sneaking
and those are the only glances you get for free
so take the time to appreciate the appreciation
I have for that though you can't see me
I could let you if I was feeling just as I appreciate
you could see me any way if you were needing

wheeling heated in case of metamorphosis
congregated longly a lone am I? dice less
gimmick free I no longer have anything to hide
try this on for size varies depending on what room
the back draftery apparitions beseech would I
lend my airy conscientious to any weaponry
or words deterred off might of the truth be heard
freedom of speech becomes secondary
when another conscious fire and teeth
subside drip into inside of all of me revived
so this is what it's like to exist without living
this is what they meant by an ocean of seedlings
taking appendages amending no real consensus
as to the dimensions or composition of my mindscape
as I've written before so I will scribble again
is there an emotive motive not biased towards
a hard lust whether all loving or brazen sore?
is there a poet inside me that is not a metaphor?
what becomes of my loneliness?
my solitude is done for
whatever ends that means
I assume the position of a
tremulant's waxed offering throat chord
waning / a sigh of relief
I am thankful for my potential for understanding
my opacity is not without heart scars
fluctuates my jaw phonetically
flash in the shown sun dark
picks me out a single fluttering orb
take me or leave me
my solitude is done for
whatever ends that means waxing / waning
maybe never beginning or ever ending
a sigh of relief / whatever that means

my solitude is done for

Sunday, March 15, 2009

2 bright stars / infinite new lungs

Those shaking tresses of hair.
A cumulus cloud of onyx hydra spirals
like a universe surrounding the goddess
brought into illumination by the glow of your face.
The breeding novas of your eyes
pull me into the silhouette of your gravity,
and I am crushed by an obliterating
high of the drug that you are.
Crushed by the weight of
the storm that you personify,
by the implosion of one star into another.
The encapsulating inversion of the
invention of vision we are manifested as.

As two vessels let go of time and space
they will let go of the atoms between one another.
As they let go of the very earth beneath them
2 bright stars explode, then vanish in a vapor.

The sound of laughter rips through
what would be called forever as I cannot tell
where I end or where you breathe in.
In the space of two hearts synchronized palpitations,
worlds are created as lungs vocalize, and limbs begin.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Don't Even Speak

and this dawn knows
war
don't know woe

but this dawn knows


and this dawn knows



cuz this dawn knows




that this dawn knows



.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Justice

HIS hisses like miscarriages
takes loving words like disses
mulled over like slumlords like marriages
like he don't know the difference
between backs of hands and kisses
less like mathematics
more like thugs hits in the crisp darkness
permissive like taking lover's swords
to teutonic submissives
fall to the floor in a manic steez
buckles and collars never electronic
but a brackish breath phonetically they breathe
to my arrestment not surprisingly
all things literal seem a lot like analogies / lately
as of late me like barracudas and pikes
the pope himself and the next door dyke
the swing and the hit / the miss
the feedback on the mic
the drift between shutting the hell up
and screaming something that at least scares myself
directly under the head of my lucky strike
like reaching for the thirteen
but only ever achieving the twelve
still I hope I found what I always wanted
my heart the hammer the hieroglyphs the level
the shelf like what with A-bomb impact
like morse code ripples like mischief magma
hot spots I've delved / the sulfur pools
still but non stagnant
like hotels neon signs full flicker but not vacant
like eyelids dome over empty space where the eyes lived
not a victim even as eyeless cries can I get a witness?
like treason like the convergence of seasons frees
every man woman and child can exist without grievance
like fried chicken pleases every milado / that's me
that's you / that shy cat slinkin out the back door
feelin' left out / perhaps lonely
but man should know you're never alone
wherever be one introvert there's two more
just around the bend beyond the corner
lookin' to bust out excrete their soul
share their sores and together we can all soar
hands are oars stroking the subversive like
the now reminds me of the when
the has been reminds me of the end
like I can become all things to all men
only then the like becomes the is
I'm learning to take the loving words
like what they are / as love
ain't no disses
like I don't need adjectives anymore
to describe what from love slid
what love said what love did
what love meant
like love / I just is.

Friday, March 6, 2009

FLiP

I'MA Flip my priorities 'fore I spit my authorities.
Contemplate the majorities 'fore I underwrite their moralities.

Curb whomp and blaspheme my own for the sole sake to bend back the bone.
Watch the clean steam burn the skin.
Embrace the truth of my disfigurement.
To reveal the tones nothing is permanent.

But I still have sewn scars that dictate the permanence of my exponential consistence in the harvest of my betterment.

a lone forest I plant as a metaphor my state as a hip-hop punkrocker in search of the wandering home I can befriend.
My permanent residence.

No I cannot stop wondering what'll happen to the rest of me.
I shovel slop 'cause I know it's in the dirt I'll discover the best of me.
Know I don't care if it hurts.
Watch me spit rhymes even during intense torture delivered in spurts.
Set me on fire and before I can tire I will swing my head back and still show you my worth.

I live as I die.
I heal as I hurt.
I am high in the sky as I am brooding in the mirth.
Cursed but not hexed. Earless but not deaf.
Taken rhyme as a token
warmly stolen but not theft.
Bled out of quantity never of quality
never a haughty worry and no mess.
Sightless but still blessed.
I don't need to speak. I don't need to stress.
I'll slaughter a thousand to show you the creation that's LEFT.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

A Fire's Coma

Passed out in the cold of your days
you left your last note for us to hold in our veins
passed out in the cold of your days
you left your last note for us to hold in our veins

I know people die all the time but you were never supposed to
dwindle live off of my fire don't spindle
into a space where you're incapable of complaining
you never shut off the lies before
that's the truth of the matter don't matter now
just speak to me / say to me anything devoid
regardless of any scores we had to settle
any sores forelorn now not what's testing our mettle
it's the kettle of your body I'm certain we both feel pinned in
but I understand I can never fully understand the difference
'cause I'm feelings haughty
and I'm sure you're feeling haunted if anything
the ghosts are battling
crackeling against the walls of your rattling breath
contest for what's left
of your dripping best in show courtesan rose fluids
rows of tubes imbued from nostrils and mouth / hot holes
exhume from your wavered invaded no longer so sacred chest
don't stress
the chemicals will act as they're supposed to //

blow. through. vampiric daylight.
dire. mating. left me here.
faux. color. out of sorts. pint of beer.
circular but not connecting you strove / too hard to circumvent drunk on spirals I wish you could have known how to bend to the winds of my love / arteries only collapse when shoved / I wish you knew / I wish you wouldn't try so hard if not I might know you do / clogged hops hipping come on and sit up pop / you awaken with break neck speed / lucidity only means that you get you're dreaming / hello father / good bye daughter / farewells fuck like peace and empty titles / sign the deed / extinguish the death of flame in the reflection of a clockwork's face your time remains unbeknownst subtly obscene and idle / farewells lift luck like elephants onto one quarter inch mantles / I am an unsettling sabretooth unhandled mammals that size sure cannot rest on the weight of a one life stain / tell me what's the pain / what's the song / what went wrong / where's the manhole / dendrites of your supposed to's fractal my presence into old dreams where I wept into the canals of the mind's maze / passed out in the cold of your days you left your last note for us to hold in our veins

passed out in the cold of your days you left your last note for us to hold in our veins.