March 2011 Blog Posts (85)

Her Presence Is Her Present To You

"Icicles are blades

we drag across ourselves

when we feel we have sinned"

Said the icicle. Then she asked:

Where were you

when the holy spirit killed herself?

Took the blade to her throat,

an icicle dragged across pale snow.

She can't hear the voices anymore,

only the blackened whispers.

Her eyes are but a pallet

for you to…

The frail little boy

lifting the duck's pinion

to reveal the hole

of blood and the unknown.

The worst image

this 7 year old

Had ever seen.

Flap… Flap… Flap...

It still haunts him.

But back at that moment,

he gladly seized when

he moved those wings.

You'd thought those wings would crack off like

ancient rust on the gates of Atlantis

left unprotected for far too…

Aesthetic police

with

thought smelling

canine units

racially profiling

a

pigment drenched man

The Malleus Maleficarum

of terrorists illustrated

in their heads

Sanguine curdling

two-year-old screams and

I in my

black Italian shoes

The smell of pot on my

women's panties

enough to search

my luggage in excess

I wonder if Hoover ever had

this dilemma

so they say that god lived here for a while

he knew what it was like to lose and hurt

and fuck and fight and die

but it only worked because he was unaware

of who he was just like we

don't know who we are

so the word, that whole... trifecta triforce trinity...

i guess it's all lost in translation.

i mean, what wasn't misunderstood at one point or another?

the word, haha...

i guess they meant... the speech, the tongue, the…

what a day. no poetry here. no nice words. just a rant about a day.

i woke up. went back to sleep. woke up again and thought i was late. i think i wanted to be late today. i got in the shower and just stood there. my water smells bad. i wonder if i can put something that smells good in it... hmm...

i forgot my salt. so i just stood there and let the black wash off. it builds up you know?... like resin in a pipe, or like... dirt on a wall. sometimes you gotta get that dirt of…

She told the wet eyed boy he wasn't as good as everyone thought and pulled his halo down to his throat.

He reached deep inside for a breath, a sound, anything that could echo and heal. He bit his tongues.

The halo, now blackened began to collapse into a noose to strangle the fading creature. His wings went next, sulfur never having smelled so sweet.

The flames were warm but did not burn, nor steal skin, or feather.

The exorcism of an angel. One of the rarest of…

"Today is show and tell class,

I hope you remembered to bring your things to share."

Said the beautiful Latin Mrs. Perez.

His father had a crush on her ever since his son had been moved

from the older black woman's…

you find yourself standing alone in an awkward place

you're far away from home and the easiest solutions

are convienently over looked. no matter how much you

love remember pray or want

you can't do it now.

it's a bad time kid.

just stop. relax. breathe.

and forget about today.

pushit away far

and keep quiet be simple relax.

noones going to save you except yourself here.

noone is going to like you any more…

lets go beyond words reading this

with your mind.

i hung myself with a nous today

and i dangled there in twilight

fading out and then a crack

i coughed out some air and a soul

there it went out of my dream

into the void

people care about these shell's stories

what about these soul's stories?

eh, noone ever listened to my story anyway...

there goes the soul, wee...

it tells us that it's all a dream

and…

a misanthropist loves animals

and go insane-alone.

people are a dis-ease,

he keeps on asking

if they could pull him out

of his stuck apparatus,

check the special source

for shattered light reference(s),

if you can't find yourself,

how could you ever find me?

find him, that, or this?

you create sin so you can

become wrapped in its wire

until you choke

until you find islam (surrender)

this…

i'm remebering

a never

and you're still there

there's something different now

i'm sort of a

new…

she's blacker than demon shit

conspiracies written in the sky

invisible insanity

and creative disguise.

the best advice i ever got

was to lay down and die.

he killed her on the phone

in his head

while she was talking

about her bad day.

there are parts of her

she could do without.

but they probably wanna live anyway...

they go get lost in the energy.

to be in a perfect world

they have to…

the hygene of language

the evolved form of words

fragments of sounds in a proverbial collage

the unities of unison, the sexual attraction.

aesthetics in appalachia

the harmony of lucrecia

the governments just trying to scare you

read animal farm...

quit crying, get out of the fear

it's not that bad.

but i can't show you this

just wait til you see my dick.

topography in thailand

underage rug burned…

central themes that undermine improvisation

the loss of creature,

the blackening of visualization.

i can't see you anymore.

damaged auras

coming toward us

i can't keep on running.

my knucles are naviely white honey...

disappear

further into your pattern of selfish hope.

this life is a fucking joke...

langaleers devouor every yestermoment.

Have fun

Experimental…

no matter how many people it saved

it couldn't save it self

there was no safety in salvation.

no appreciation

in deeds done,

but what thing does deeds for appreciation

except from it's own self.

no matter how many atrocities received

bullets in their heads and sharp objects through

the brain so they could finally fucking rest.

there was no finality to the experience,

just a bullet in the head and a limp…

thee insatiable lovour

i love you in ways

that suicide letters are written

bled your tears for days

those are the things that aren't easily

forgotten.

i love you in ways that

murderers find passion.

held my head in my hands for days

hope seems to grow distance-

further.

and it's time to let him have paradise

because paradise is... too far…

a catalyst for an expiration date

a thinning veil of love, of hate.

nothing like the moment

seizing these dying days.

a root that has consumed

all it ever let rise.

someone told me once that

all i ever knew i'd inevitably despise.

in the back of a trunk

with the tape on its mouth

with the eyes pulled back flickering

pupils dialated with coagulated red crust.

a ripped up florida tee-shirt

and a rib pointing out by a palm tree

watch it try to take a step and fall

with a rotting nervous system

its never been here before

and its never going to be here again

so it rests in its defeat at the hands

of so many strangers it never…