Piss on the Piano

I stink like deer meat...

coffee cigarettes and blueberry juice

the trampling caused the paths

upon which we pause...

now meditate

my needing no longer wanting

my phalanx tooth

shimmy through

lose the noose

loose...

fresh goose neck bled...

the proof...

tongue laid to bed

what a grave

the sound of pianos has become

what a widow...

what a...

...

her death gave way

to these weighing waves

gaze I raise from palms that pray

psalms of silence

hymns hinge on haze

virus from the tentacles

I only accept

hands slack behind my back

as I grip the splitting cells

blindfold held til I turn away

only time would tell

but my love, my belle

do you remember?

we collapsed the skull

under water in light of the swell

we cut out the tongue

to cease the smell

senses fuckered

directions rudder

the base got harder

as the fins fade darker

we touch the bottom

to rise again...

death by pressure...

...my aquatic bones begin to bubble...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2w1LAXNbxXY

dec. 30th '10

a glass of hennesey

whats the fuss

my skeleton hand

still strums the blunts

down tempo beats

still keep the buzz

gimme a cheaper drink

and I still be love

a case of lucky

my leather and studs

fedora pulled crooky

can't hide the punk

still I side step

like dub is sunk

got 5 on confessor

when none's enough

10 on professor

cuz he talk to much

11 on my sweater

and 12 in the glove

when I hit lucky 13

I will be the sun...

Unescaped / Undenied

First everything must recede.

then hate will tell us to fear.

silence becomes a beckoning.

our choice will not be heard.

compression of the smoke and gas.

us and the fumes

yet still with the empty.

our human lungs will flatten.

our human bodies will shrivel.

our eyes will turn to dust in our skulls.

and we will fucking die.

our souls folding inward

until they can no longer delve.

until our inside becomes the out.

we will push.

we will push.

we will push.

and fractal towards the light.

with one hand forever in the shadows.

the other prying back the lid of our third eye.

we will push.

we will push.

and fractal towards the light.

with one hand forever in the shadows.

I am unescaped / undenied /

unescaped / undenied /

unescaped / undenied /

nove 21st '10

small cat under the table cloth.

manhole shrunk.

cobblestone tracks lost.

gatherer of fibres

let the face of wind

be the pigment you draw.

slight skirt stitched by hand.

you gone not a cough wrong.

baby, sting me,

then clear out your cup.

black short wide straw.

window frames with space for the letters.

clawfoot tub filled.

rusty bottom.

inside ivory astro

span to your length

now narrow,

sow soft.

in the living room

i roll a blunt proper

for a queen like you.

by the moonlight

the splash of bath water

sounds so pure,

just knowing it's made by you.

tonight the cello sleeps.

our breath the metronome.

staccato with beat.

body shadows

lost in the dark hallways,

slender secrets kept...

...keep.

Running from Reaper

Yea I think I smoke too much I stumble and fumble around and spit up my gut like lunch fidget fucked but crutched rinse washed and crunched for what seems like as long as I've been from osh kosh b gosh to modern day slop not sure that I've lost anything at all from cradle to grave I still got the bat of my spine the ball of my skull a reason to pray that I never stop grumbling around with a hole in my soul got a hold of the whole nodda low note blown by blotter stolen remote trigger barrel point right rot at cha melee attack from this righteous rottweiler no real weapons but heavy paws and god handlers swingin piniatas in front of sightless jehovas in the inner depths of the projects during winter it was home was blown by snow to cut zones by lines of blood proper fruit of my loins dictate not a thing since family not familia in the deuce eye patched sting of these po cop caught called redeemer heres comes a freight fraught with my insecurities fought off in a single shot hennesey heisted heresy hips and cheeks gaut mother mary massacred barely under a cloud of mustard gas now a fetishy gas mask she dons a million buildings domino to the walls gone the horizon sun sung songs lost slung ruthless only when my gaurdian angel aint present I wake up in a pool of black gesso paint and apex the windows blown inward away from tresses i aint 17 no more so i dont wear dresses i aint 21 no more so i dont clean up drunk girls messes i aint 25 on the dot no more so i dont linger on lessons I cop the betterment like every second I'm the better men's mettle lyrics melt into metal to become the grooves in the vinyl hot wax inside the presses I got a lot of sound but im still running from reaper i make puddles from the ground cant put a face to the deceiver cant put a trace on the receiver cant get a voice cant get an opinion from any of my selves or any minion so figure my phone must be off the hook I'm shook baby tell me whats my choice I got the reaper outside the cleaver within balance is a tricky bitch but i fuck tight ropes with a shadowed brow and a shiny grin this aint no stint this is life long muthafucker and I dont mean an average 75 years I mean from never and on forever tears from a meteor tore the atmosphere a new few thousand potential flight believers now we scrying the next evolution in moon and mars dust how soon til the aliens pour out my wounds to pry my third eye into opening up tears from a samurai never touch the dirt so I'm learning how to be a cloud jumper from those warriors with nothing else but their own to quench their thirst and I'm learning yea I'm learning about code and honor not a word I am the thread and I am the pin the strike of the bullet and spear the precipitation inside the sauna keeping speech to a min shipwreck found in the tops of mountains and they said I was absurd I am a seamless face bounty saturated til blurred killer with two sharp fingers splinters in a bucket of paint carve out the negative space black gesso drench the vase dress disintegrate to lace to vapors to I don't gotta guess her layers so deco or fresco what ever have you in the back seat soliloquy spun from the land mine of my heart heaven only once the windows opaque with your skin you're no vehicle but I don't just can't not gonna give a damn...cuz I got the reaper outside the cleaver within balance is a tricky bitch but i fuck tight ropes with a shadowed brow and a shiny grin...now im out like the night and down like the dirt. ya dig? stay perked or get jerked in the skirt......peace.

caoco (lyrics not rhymes)

This ain't a show this is just embrassing

but baby don't step off

can't let go

don't not hopscotch broken nose

they're laughing

at you again

so fuck em caoco into the milk

don't go off the stage scribe turns to page

mouths and hands erased

now what are you gonna say

to them before the lightbulbs burst

the darkness is so thirsty for your tongue...

prolapsed the pink skull

There's no fixing this

my dreams, you don't deserve

your harmony's pot shotty

I open up in 1/24th sec rotations

nappy stem nosh unconscious

the inside of a skull

pink soft glow like its regulatory

I'm rushed into waking

I shit a better release

than what you'll ever be

I should'a writ a slender woman

into walking with me in the steam

the meat locker only goes so deep

the cold black barrel / only so long

our pi porous throats only so deep

you're so beautiful when you're choking

my jaw agape at the splendor of your memory

you're just so fucking gorgeous when you're dying

asian coins bark like deformed peacocks

that retardedly celebrate everything...

...you're so beautiful when you sleep...

an intro minor

I spend a lot of time in play
six hinges and who knows how many blades.
A couple of capable hands,
I'm gonna see what I can make.
2D, 3D,
words go no D
and still somehow in dimensionlessness
is where I carve out my most honest slays.
Throw the metal at my mental
to see what sticks and what falls away.
If I was the sky
then these symbols be my rain.
These cymbals voice in waves.
These syllables can't contain
even that which I, I...I,
just breathe...
breathe as breath pertains.
breathe...
now convey:

Nov. 2nd '10

This young chrysanthemum
crisp as a chrysalis
frozen in the tip of a wet dripping icicle.
Her static silence crackling outwards.
Vibration free.
Growth within the emptiness.

Blossom has come to change.

We leave.
this time, leafless.

Paw prints in the white out,
percolate.

In the cold
our breath levitates,
permanent.

A cause of insurmountable difference.

A cricket's lisp
will always go unnoticed.

CHANGE.

Change is so constant I could say

change a dozen times and the word

change would mean something different every time I said it.

Change

changes hands from those too stuck up bitch rich to

change to those too itchin' for something to scratch away the pain to

change what got them there in the first place when

change is first born right here in your head space.

Change is closer than the spark before the flame.

Change is the escape plan not yet thought of.

Change is the x and y chromosome woman or man.

Change was the world before we drew a map.

Change is the action of love when it is not hindered.

Change changes everything. ALL WAYS for the better.

Brothers and sisters

my name is CHANGE.

Not because I refuse to stay the same

but because I am that I am that I am no other way

and that, will never

change.

Changing my clothes

changing the roads

changing is flow.

Changing is strangers into lovers.

But when strangers become fighters

I would argue that this is not change.

I tell you this is fear, in the heart of one or the other.

Raising arms against our sisters and brothers when

they raise their voices and come out from behind cover.

Quick! Put down that cracka or put down that nigga

cuz if we don't things might not stay the same.

Cuz if we do things'll stay the same...whew.

Please understand that when I say the word

'nigga' it does not come with connotations of hate.

But when I say the word 'same'

please believe that I hope that it do.

Same connotates the stopping of seasons,

same connotates the same shit

for the same reasons.

Same connotates eventual blind faith

in all of the things that we believe in.

Same connotates the past tense of 'forget'

and it seems that 'same' has forgot,

the death, funeral and wake of yours truly.

My name is change.

A name given to me out of beauty for all that

change gives.

Change is

new life to be lived.

Change is the

new day casting it's

new sun and her

new rays don't ask permission

they just reach out to you and kiss.

Change is me saying everything and regretting nothing

because even if half of everything that comes out of my mouth is a lie,

well the lies will be overturned

and it is the TRUTH that wIll Set me FREE,

and because of this, I will have learnt.

and I will walk away

changed.

I've said the word

change

29 times

and that's 29 more times than I

need to say it for everything to have already

changed.

Brothers and sisters,

My name is change.

whale bones

Wrenches clatter downwards through the cloud of pots and cast iron pans

inside the joints of all tools the only constant consists of concepts

even consciousness eventually collapses enveloping continuity

eventually cooking becomes baking becomes burnt

a twist of a purse / the bent knee of a skirt

and still amongst the flash fire the gas and the char,

still, something, must be presented.

Calamity they once called me

'they' are on this day nobody

so at the moment I go by nothing.

you've your legs crossed

and the table cloth helps not with hiding

you've the heel bust off your right shoe

I can tell by the way you bite your lip

when I set this plate in front of you

and also by the way you're slouching.

They used to call you Vicky.

Only so that when they did you'd know

how little they cared about

what name you had actually been given.

I figure I touched a nerve

as you look away

pouring towards the ceiling

like it was the top of your foot

the back of your knee

your hip

your palm,

your face.

you take a bite

the steam wafts through you porously

and

I've been on the subject of you

for so long

by fork down both shoes removed

I'm rubbing the spaces between your toes

and you

grin, and already know too much.

I shut my mouth

the table vanish

the chairs standoffish

the consonance of our touch

our bodies maintain internal rhythm

rhyme between us belonging to

the assonance of our past...

alliteration, is not a topic

of which we spoke,

unless in hushed onomatopoeia

we cut from each other's shade

we gut from each other's tone

everything we've ever been

reinvented by one another

with instinct so honest

your shame and secret become me

my vulnerability leaves you writhing

and in the hot box of the kitchen floor

we playfully pressed blades

against each other's throats.

simply waiting for our lips to part.

as one of us tries to breathe.

The Snake and the Mouse

Tonight I killed a mouse

a call cut close.

Sticky floors and dripping walls

clinging to the fur.

Balance omni-unhinged

a splash of blood

a sudden slit of the shouts.

As melancholy pours

over my swagger

and rosetta stone glasses.

Sublimation engaged

a flexing of this tinge

before the masses.

Grey scale forms of flood

the skies wounds

back spun from open

into closing right up.

Four, score, born again

struck muck surrounds

nothing outside but

some inside markings

singe seething blind

I remain to the boards.

Kaa's bones and guts

ingested in the stall

a gust of wind

man, fuck it I'm sore.

This time

the rodent I am

a convict shimmy to the beat

of my own grift grieving hand

tell me

what's gripping man?

a band saw blade

made small enough

to cut off the paws

of 25 billion of 'em.

Microscopic witnessing

now I see

I always thought that beach

was made of sand,

and now that I know

that it can bleed

give me a shovel

and let me dig where I stand.

This is the story of the snake and the mouse

and how I got scales and whiskers

and a scaled down house.

I slither my way in

and I scurry when I'm out.

Don't know who I am

but I'ma figure it out

cuz I know it's up to me

and not you or my couch.

oh holy shit!

A snake in the grass,

awe it's just a mirror

I hear they're made outta sand.

And there ain't no moon out tonight

and therefore there's no light

therefore I can't quite

seem to really tell the difference.

So I end up spending the night

being chased by a mirror.

A feared of my own self?

Nah ya don't say?

The hair stand on end

towards heaven's sake.

With all blood cell praying

every paint pen spraying

I pull the rats and snakes

outta the dark and the dank

just to look 'em in the face

and say "yea I know that's me."

I set 'em loose again

looking forward

to the light of a new day

with new creatures to see

some I befriend

and some are meant to be slain...

Oct 4th '10

i dropped some crumbs of banana bread on the floor and was genuinely shocked to notice how much they resembled some spotty stains on the carpet not far away.

sometimes do you ever feel so completely insane that you must be the only person of reason on the face of the planet?

sometimes do you ever feel so infant and so elderly at the same time you forget how old you are? what day it is? what year it is?

so weak and so strong and many many polar opposites all at once you lose track of where you begin and where literally everything else ends?

suddenly realizing you've been staring at carpet stains and bread crumbs without blinking for prolly the better part of a full minute.

everything is temporary

a moment is as slight as it is infinite

so id say all that i want is to be happy

but really

sometimes i genuinely enjoy being sad

id say all that i want to be, is to be

but nothing lasts forever, and everyone dies

i blink

and look away from the now twice dirtied floor

i laugh because banana bread crumbs just made me figure that i was never born

the sound of my laughter will never fade

does that mean that every sound ever is just compiling on top of one another

if so why does it not get harder to hear eachother

or does that just mean that nothing exists as easily as it does...

i laugh again as i realize that my clock reads 5pm

i could swear ive been awake since noon

but still im lying naked under my covers and have hardly moved

sometimes its really hard to even get out of bed

sometimes its really hard to get myself to go to sleep ... ... ...

Sept. 25th '10

I get high like toad vemon's a joke

licking the sweat off my own body

is a half tab away from a gooping out

in the empty streets kind of dose

heavy heat but not haughty

I slip into a hole like dude I need a rope

sharp tongued but not haunted

soft hands like I'm the doctor

not bothered enough to look

at the size of the dose

I just shot needle poke into your arm I switch your

intravenous with mine grin in time with the harm

cuz the cleanest is the fullest harvest fuck the farm

fuck the hick-a-daisy daughter fuck the mother

hell you can fuck the farmer if that whatcha into

really it don't matter cuz I crop the cream onto platter

I said a horn of plenty / not many / so that sad face

that you keep making just keeps on looking sadder

yea I burn what's left to the ground just to spite you

matchstick nothingness ash whispers from the cinders

I fly away on a magic golden winged jacob's ladder

with a v.i.p. toting shorty who claims her name is vishnu

now you ain't looking so sad / just pissed off and bitter

wait wasn't vishnu a dude? whatever

I suppose I could ask her later

when she's bringing me breakfast in bed

coffee and a cigarette and a little bit of head

I ask her to bring me the morning paper

that I ain't even gonna read I just like to see

her reach down / and bend over

if that ass were a pulled taut bedspread

I swear I could four foot bounce a quarter

catch it between my teeth

maybe I use it to call her mother

but I think wait a minute

where am I spending my time?

phone held 'til I drop it

pocket that nickel deus a dime

rub 'em 'til they shine

not a loosey that I'm taking

cuz me I got mine

visualize a sack full of 'em

not a fear to a billion of 'em

filling every crevice with 'em

the space between

the front of my teeth

and the back of my grill

is stuffed rich with 'em

first comes the rhymes

follow with the prosperity I manifest

motherfucker I materialize

check the emeralds that are growing out my chest

Namaste

Through experience our spectrum of ability to comprehend the infinite shades of grey expands and complexifies but is never complete.

To realize that we can manifest to realize that we want to manifest to realize what it takes to manifest to realize we have what it takes to manifest to realize that we are manifesting.

All of these stages are present and engaged in all that we do. But just like the waves crashing off the coast, we rise and fall to the tune of a million different influences. Waxing and waning the light of our own perception across the infinite faceted jewel in the hopes that we may see the flaws and perfections of all that we can first hand and in witnessing these flaws and perfections we come to see that all we are seeing is a part of ourselves we never knew existed. And we are brought to our knees before the honest faces of the absolute violence and beauty that make up our very souls. Alone and vulnerable, stripped naked and bare and incapable of hiding anything even from myself, I realize that I am still alive. I am naked and cold and forever grateful to just still be alive. I have nothing to give but myself, so I give it. and in knowing that I am alive with so little thought, I am so tiny, I am so humbled that I can find nothing to ask for but myself. Give me myself, so that I may give of myself. Recognizing every moment as a blessing continually birthing me a new into the clear and present now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBeKgoqVopk&feature=related

Say what SOTA

I slink vibrant slick

without the instrumental

guitar no pick I lift a brick

and spit it to the crickets

so sota never stay a capella

and if this grin seem stuck

it's cuz this bucket of swag

shit, the bitch don't rust

layer of paint

after layer after layer

a graff artist's gruff

ain't no need to pay her

a poet's tin of snuff

know I'll hit ya back later

cuz right now

we're getting high in the back room

down low in the dark room

soaking up the vapors

so one sec decks

please pull back on the faders

easy up on the speakers

enough to fill the papers

and when I pull out the lighta

put the flame to the blunt cha

better drop that beat

if ya know what's good for ya

Sakul speaking for SOTA

and I'm scratching nothing to nil

but the paint off the walls

and the booze out the bottles

the rainbow fucking waddles

when it's witness to my shades

slowly fades but still it remains

in the wake of me on behalf of all SOTA

cuz I'm like the reflection of light off of rain

just a hella lot brighta

FALLOUT

Everyone is dead,

save you.

But be careful,

you could still

get shot in the head.

TOPHAT

Satisfied by the sax / rafters collapse / lavish snacks / laps that snap / paths tattooed like this one man army tracks his prey / engage the zombies crack open the bodies let whatever come that may / apocalypti present intrinsically / I seethe like what with a rutten bawdy attitude / slot spattered gilded faceplate wheezed distressingly in a different light / this time she burns vertically across them lines of latitude / gratitude reigns as servitude slain to circumvent not mine but our better view / vanquished bitter vantage point advantage to the prior skewed / knowledged now catalyst as I'm made of all kinds of shit / infinite percentages like all the world's cures can't hack my prime directive / this maker spoke the seed of life into being planted / this master choked on the atom to bring forth Eve and her Adam / now imagine what I'll birth when I put intention behind this spit / aim the barrel at the heart of myself and the universe and let that shit go 'click'...

We are as we make ourselves.

And with his pen writes the red rose

into and through it's own seed and sense.

Spattered spectacularly

under bassment blast

and graff artist flash

those DJ's ain't got nothing on him.

And with his pen writes the rose into bloom

at will the red'll drain away

black ink burst them old petals into blue

stacked pages smoldering

to the wind of a NEW DAY.

Sept. 9th '10

In the morning basement dark light i pull back my sheets, and surprise, surprise I'm naked. sometimes i take a strength from this as it reminds me that i am that i am and to wear myself proudly. sometimes i take a come on from this and need to come on myself before i leave bed to shower shave shit and piss. and sometimes, sometimes when i dream of, her, it takes a moment to assure myself that im not still dreaming because thats how real she still is in my subconscious. and quite honestly, lately, when i realize that im not still dreaming. i just feel relieved, because there is a big difference between what the dreams of her used to be like and how the dreams of her now, just pierce my heart like a spike. not even a spike because there being a spike implies that something foreign has taken place inside me. if there ever was a spike it resided in the beautiful dreams i used to have about her where i would wake in the morning with a warming glow inside like a horseshoe still in the fire before the blacksmith removes it to shape the steel into something any equus would be proud to wear. but now when i dream of her, there is no spike, no horseshoe, no fire, no foreign anything. now when i dream of her, upon my waking my heart slowly transfigures from a beating organ into a beaten empty furnace left behind by the blacksmith when he packed up shop and left to move on in search of more fertile soils and more lucrative and populated villages.

when i used to dream of her the skies were made of fire and she walked through the ruins of scorched cities, alone, strong and eyes sharp. she would walk to the highest point she could find, be it the blown wide upper floors of downtown office buildings or a grassy cliff jutting from sloping hillsides. she would look out from these points scanning the horizons, and wait til a large grey wolf found its way to her. when the wolf found her his ears would perk his tongue would hang out and he would pant happily. she would kneel down hold the sides of the wolf's head and under a sky of fire we would look into each other's eyes forever.

now, my dreams of her are crowded scattered schizophrenic apparitions full of strangers who hollar with no cause. she is always distracted by the presence of others or never notices that i'm even there though we are always within arms reach of one another, we never make eye contact and we never touch.

when i have waking thoughts of her they are always of hope, understanding, and love.

when i day dream of her she is simply a silhouette in the distance walking towards me. even when we get close enough to see each other's faces clearly we do not pick up pace we simply smile as the space between us lessens. at arms reach we both stop walking. she reaches out to hold my arms or maybe my shoulders. i reach out for her waist or to graze her chin with the back of my index finger as if i almost dont even believe shes standing right in front of me. we embrace and she tells me she loves me. i reply with three words each said twice " and i you...and i you."

whenever i dream of her, day dream of her, or simply think of her throughout the day they are always abstract shapes of hope, understanding and love that I engage and hold for only a moment before I close my eyes, take a breath, and just, let, go.

Sept. 5th '10

my specks slide down as I move with my nose

smell strength since my grin become your driver

and I know what's underneath of your clothes

automobiles of a more analog nature

but our tattoos absorb all of that ancient mist

and my hard kisses will never get through

my inked up fists are wet but don't slip

girl in your dark you know I'm onto something new

so sly cat your way underneath of my cap

twist tail and the raise of your hair

bareback but you still don't see me

blended in with the tattoos I wear...

love emptiness so tangible

Now I been through a whole lot of shit over the last few years

a lot more than ya know about and sure as hell a lot more than ya'd care to hear

I've fucked my fears and drained my tears / found so much strength in myself and peers

so much so that in these words / I let down my guard so that I can hurt

and squeeze out every little drop of pain / so that when I walk out that door

I can just be the me that I wanna be / cuz the demons are at home under rose and key

now I ain't saying that I cover shit up / but when it comes to the outside world

there's enough garbage to drown us all / so when we talk I will just say love

and sure I'd like to live for infinity / but truth be told I'm ready to die today

and I kinda figure that's the best way to be / cuz I don't know when my time will come

so I'ma live like I am immortal and I'ma live like I'm already done

I'ma write these words like they'll be legends and like they never existed

and thusly they will never be sung / and I am not / where I'm from

I am not the hate I hung / I am not the bell I rung / I am not here and I was never gone

and I don't know about these words / about my heart or about my soul

but I'm proud to stand and say out loud the only thing I really know

is that I ain't faking myself when I say I know that I just don't know

I don't know / I don't know / I don't know / I just love us so

and I am nothing just like you / can you think of anything more beautiful?

Harsh Tokes

So here's what I'ma do

shave off half of my pubes

freeze my sack in an ice cube

dip my dick in paint

carve my own name

into the back of my taint

cuz I've been / hotdog in hallway

dead dog / drooling to their game

ain't no bitches gonna see me swing

stinger any where near their frame

cuz in the aftermath of my past exploits

they whisper to me and tell me things

like that most ya'll cunts are cunts

harlots and liars and sluts

dirty kids sticky hands

rooting through the garbage

maybe you'll find some lunch

now I know we all animals

but still a mutt's a mutt

you just doing what's natural

part of the human experience

but I think they're just trying to

take their whole and divy it up

well now rouge means red

and red means rough

of case in point of that of a stiff lay

of that of a hard fuck

now how many headboard

francais shades'll be enough

are ya trying to fill that hole

like it a wound or a cut

like it's your esophagus

and it needs to get stee/retched

more often than not

otherwise it gonna close right up

and then your 'O' face

it ain't gonna breathe no more

and I ain't one to hold 'em back

so resuscitate yourself into the sore

ya feeling better ya feeling connected

if ya feeling the empty love

love I guess at least ya feeling more

along the rungs of the ladder are harsh tokes

lung butter can't see the chamber for the hot smoke

wobbling in front of them lass and blokes

but when the glass blows you just got you and no where to go

so just cover your own you better know where to go

so slide back back right onto your back

sliver your eyelids and feel with your hands

oops oops what happened to the pants

whoops what happened to the man

she think he gotta hold of the wrong crack

she begging give me some slack jack

she think she want the weight of this fat stack

way on the other side of the train tracks

but too late for that

that hands handing out smack slap

soft part of the eyes going all blue black

sudden surprise realizing disguise

invasion of a public temple

you should'a privatized

now see the pried apart

parts of your cathedral

all of the raining all the pain

the windows breaking the rubble

the fires the scuttle the double

mattress just so massive

with no one to cuddle

contrast between 5 minutes pior

now you cry into your pillow

if you were a dove you'd fly

right into the sky from the sill of your window

but they cut off your wings and it's too hard to sing

when you're face down drowning in a puddle

of your own tears / its gonna be alright dear

no need to fear cuz yes you will last

just put your foot on the gas and steer steer steer

along the rungs of the ladder are harsh tokes

lung butter can't see the chamber for the hot smoke

wobbling in front of them lass and blokes

but when the glass blows you just got you and no where to go

so just cover your own you better know where to go

now I ain't gonna masochist

the shit out of my dick

like I said I would in the first verse

just trying to make a point

about self love and self hurt

and I ain't saying I 'm frigid

just saying that if you wanna get with this

you gonna have to do a wee more

than display just a little bit of interest

cuz this body of mine is a place of worship

and when you come to my gates

are you just looking for good times

or a real place to stay / either way

I'ma demand that you prove that you're worth it

just like to you I'ma prove my worth and

all of the work and the sweat and the dirt

it'll pay just you and me we'll play on the day

when we have both gained entry

into the temples of one another

girl when that day comes

we will worship so beautifully

it was worth the wait universally

I swear this could be fucking infinity

victory / just you and me

we'll worship each other just so beautifully

it's you and me

along the rungs of the ladder are harsh tokes

lung butter can't see the chamber for the hot smoke

wobbling in front of them lass and blokes

but when the glass blows you just got you and no where to go

so just cover your own you better know where to go

12 Foot Speaker Spoke The Lion "Now Watch Me Float"

The backs of my hands peel into palms and another gripping ten. The nails they grow to a march sounding of bone and flow, a heave exponential and a fractaling of my instrument.

About a centerless river where no dividing crux and knuckle bend can tore or defend I find a jointful temple rich. With current I am finally capable of balancing without attempting to grip.

I am a body of soft palms. No clutch though far from fingerless. I just breathe. And let the bliss rest.

Brick Sayer

I lifted a brick and let it linger on the horizon
hooked between twos stars twisted with twine
spanned the length of the two with wire and
spannered in pilton the residence of a minion
a scanner I recognized as the brick sayer
of my unrelinquished self on a mission
I situate my position on both knees
forehead against the wall
the hole that born the connecting dread
cast it's depth upon great length
my eyeball
the object and the viewer
there are few lifeforms in the sky
that do not gladly accept my skewer
the crackling twitch bird call of I the brick sayer
four layered and effervescent glitching / LED
like I'm kinship to the human machine connection
strobe of things which happen in flashes
I recognize my relationship to it like I'm born
of live wire just as easily as fire is born of matches
as satchels could just as easily
contain c4 explosives or tasteless C rations
nutrition for the boxcar bodies I birthed
there's the passion laughing
decay exchange the synergy
rearrange the bones to let space bend to me
yea you know how we do
we and ours that brick from later days
our atoms splay to display the similarity

Nothing is artificial
we are never not touching
to be superficial is to deny
that you are me and I am you
and that together we are EVERYTHING.

Spiral Out...

You remind me of the most intricately
hand carved purple heart wood door frames
incense lacing the joists
flames flicker to dancing shadows revealing
the swirling smoke in sliding glimpses
superfluous sultry down tempo rhythms
akin to the still fragrance of sacred space
a dancer in the dark spinning wildly forever
you break like beauty spilling fluidly
appearing and disappearing like waking dreams
slotted between the slates of subconscious meditation
memory so vivid I can still feel the warm dancing
shadows of your feet and legs skimming through
the living room and kitchen to find my lower limbs
in the hallowed place of our bed.
In those moments girl we twist together
so perfectly and in those wanted memories
it is there I find the words that one day I will have said...

Aztec

Pinching pennies like microscopic syringes and lances
free.99 face lifts hot aston martins and lasses asses
I bottle the passing of gases like they're
sacramental omens for the futures of masses

Standing Ground

I be faint like a crook with his gimmick written over / looking over shoulder / barely missed the boulder / lucky like a clover / through the gate before it's closure / extinguish hate with the moan of pleasure / my hormonal leisure is never over weight, but damn that shit is heavy / and if you curious girl you dun have to wait cuz I already got five fingers under your belt they're furious as fuck and bound to bust the leavy / a thousand crawling cracks and please believe that ain't water that fills the space / I pry open my rhyme book and between the pages I got 88 keys that lay in wait still and breathing as a woman's lace / I pluck with my pen / and amplify with my tongue / with these two hands is how I bring the bass man with the purple glow of my instrument that's how this song is sung / black and white and all the tones in between / from fuck until fight from dark into light from struck into struck I play your tune perfectly / I do not recognize the color but the sound is so familiar / so if these vibrations lend your ear, then splendid / we'll let one another be the paths upon which we slither, suspended / as we dance back and forth the flame of the torch only rising higher / the trance and perfection / the beauty how at it's mere suggestion / I see before me only progression / direction's in the back seat but he is still driving / there's always dead lines to meet / so I make malleable my space and my time cuz I believe that I can make any and everything into anything I want simply with the power of my will and the machine of my mind / and I believe that we are all gods within our own eternal divine / /

and in my own life / /

man I can tell you that I am not finding what I'm looking for /

and I hope that I never fucking do / /

I be faint like a crook with his gimmick written over / I be slight as the shadows that I'ma ripping through / second looking over shoulder / barely missed the boulder / lucky like a clover / yea that's how I fucking do.

July 21th '10

My hair has exploded and new shadows set in.

My chest has ruptured and new ridges and valleys appear

to tell of tectonics I never knew existed beneath my skin.

My fingernails shave themselves away from the tips.

I learn of what I hold without having to keep grip.

There is nothing to confide in for I am confidence.

There is nothing to fear for I am love itself.

I am the entire spectrum of emotion all at once.

So I laugh tears and hug like poison,

throw punches as compassion crunches,

asphyxiate on oxygen and I grin when I cry.

I suck up the gases so I can know the air is clean

as I cut myself open to find the temples inside.

July 20th '10

Sistine cobras deleted from the ceiling.

In the future they'll believe

man used to live in the sky.

We've now severed ourselves from the poison

healing and all that. The worn roads of bellies

we passed on by.

Hide the scales from our eyelids

the antlers from our ears.

To hide our paws from the dirt

they will fan out their hoods,

bare their fangs,

and ignore the rest of our body.

July 17th '10

A bird call rang from the black ice beer can
its tone glittered roughly somewhere between that of a dying cat and an orgasming infant
as the jungle canopy of aluminum ran from the ceiling in fear of the quicksand healing
a cascading cacophony of vocalized hollering drew over the crashing cans
loud enough to be the plummeting's soundtrack
alone isolating the visual from the audio and leaving no linkage to absorb

flatten my defecation and I lost amazon reason to believe the bending screen
the blending means pull hard
and wrench from my bass a concrete tiger
eyes slight as bamboo and dilated as television
wrists clatter ladder and the monument
once again is whole my stomach full
katana slit and shard belly buttons blue prints
now cut a fucking hole in me
and let the raw meat bloom and crawl and stink