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

My Alone

During a Pranayama this morning the sweet silk taste of pussy filled my senses with every exhalation.

Phalanx formed in micro bends, spherical armies converge in circular motion allowance towards ease from the basement bloom my bosom cut fluidly.

My alone is mine alone, first.
My alone is then for us all.

My breath is of limitless breadth.

This body does not contain me.
This room cannot contain me.

In our dreams we find the vulnerability to hook a soft appendage and tug each others g-strings to the side. Laid out flat balance on a fire hydrant or concrete post, pain non existent, never opposed pure sensation. We bite our bottom lips off and grin with our eyes.

We enter ourselves, alone, we enter one another.

Standing head to toe I am come undone.
Camel pose ecstatic together, fearless, we cum.

My alone is mine alone, first.
My alone is then for us all.