a modern haiku

safe in a box
the christmas bulbs
from our shattered family

Untitled

Days pass like bullets
from an assassin's rifle
and zip past my head...
I must've put a bounty
on my own life
some night when I was drunk
and praying to Death
as if he were a god —
But when I'm sober
I refuse to believe in him
because the whole idea of mortality
is just too glamorous
to be real,
because there have been days
that have pierced my skull
without exit
and brought me to my knees
while the warmth of everything I am bled out
onto the cold cement of my existence...
And because somehow, I’d always wake up
after every kill
to the sound of birds singing outside my window.
Then, in those small perfect moments
I’d ask myself
“is this heaven?”

Exposed

how gently

this summer dusk

unfolds our petals

while the flowers close...

the way you smile when you're shy

is so

attractive...

But as this darkness settles

it hides everything —

our bodies, eyes, and even

the past.

we're invisible to each other,

but I can read the goosebumps on your skin

like braille

and see the sound of your breath

floating through my mind

with all it's color.

My remaining senses tingle

in your sensation

then go numb, and fall asleep

to the rest of this broken world

like pins and needles

but pleasurable, in a strange way.

Never would I have thought

it'd feel so wonderful to go blind

to such beauty

as yours...

Hooded Salesman audio (slam poem/rap)

http://picosong.com/4dn7/

Slam poem audio... enjoy!

http://picosong.com/4Uu5/

Verbal Seduction

Get lost with me
in the smoke that dances
on the edge of my voice.
The world is too cold
for my words,
but how beautiful they look
suspended in the air
like a stage for moonlight
who steals the show.

Let me take you in the night
while you dream of music
from warmer worlds
to a place where every breath I breathe
strokes your skin
and gives you chills.

Maybe somewhere deep inside
I know it'll never last
forever —
but oh what memories
it'll haunt me with
when my words uncurl and disappear
into the dark skies that hug
every world.

More freestyle poetry/rap shit. Slam poem maybe?

He's knocking at the door again
that hooded man
trying to sell me death
I told him I have nothing left
but he's running a sale
on last breaths.
I'm intrigued
but it's 3 in the morning
and I'm strung out on meth
hydrocodon, gin, and weed.
I'm pale as a ghost
he says I'll fit right in
He says “don’t worry bout it man it ain’t a sin
if you're depressed
and I know you are
I can see it in your eyes
your handsome eyes
blue as the sky,
so let me come in sir
and you can give it a try.”
Goddamn salesman
buttering me up with lies
my eyes are hazel and I know it
I'm not letting his shit fly.
“you're not too young to die
in fact, you're old for your age
your soul is tired of this life
it's practically withered away”
get the hell away
I ain’t buying your shit
so take your shiny new scythe
and fucking split.
“now hold on sir,
no need to throw a fit
you're gonna die anyways
if you keep taking those hits,
and I know you cant stop”
Fuck you dick
those drugs are just a metaphor
you're blind as shit...
but you're right I cant stop
it's so easy to hurt
and cut myself 'till the blood drops.
Sometimes it falls like rain
and submerges bad thoughts
I know it don't make sense
but I'm insane
rationality's closed up shop.
“Oh, well would you be interested in
this new vacuum model?
It sucks up anything you drop
even all those empty bottles”
No thanks
the one I have works just fine
but I’ll call you back about that death
if I ever do change my mind
“okay, thank you for your time
enjoy the rest of your night, sir
and here take my card
and check me out online”
I nod, smile,
then slam the door as he walks.
that fucking reaper will find someone
probably on this block...
depression is a ghetto
where people get shot,
that's why I stay inside
and wait patiently to rot.
This solitary confinement
drove me insane
but at least I'm alive
and can see past these games.

Freestyle Rap Lyrics

If I make it through this life
I'll end up in the ghettos of heaven
if I'm lucky
but I’ll probably end up dead
with a cop staring over my body.
I'm tight-roping on sanity
juggling my depression
like chainsaws
as strangers in the crowd cheer
when I start to fall.
They must think it's funny
when I'm about to topple
but fuck them I'm still dangling here
just to show 'em I'm unstoppable.
I'm cold
and tougher than you think
I've been to hell and back
and then went back for the heat.
Bitch, I'm the patron saint
of everything unholy
I'll grind up your boyfriend's meat
and stuff it in ravioli,
fuck the rules
I'd serve it to kids at school
show up naked with a plate of him
and make the lunch-moms drool.
I rose up from the shadows
where demons lurk like sharks
the sea of night is frigged
so I drowned myself in the dark.
My mind is sunken treasure
that no one will ever find
they only dream of striking gold
as valuable as mine
my shit is divine
when I spit my mind every star in this fucking galaxy aligns
I'm a constellation of a god
more powerful than Zeus
my words are lightning bolts that burn holes in
your roof...
I dangle from the moon
bitch I'll never fall
you can push and shove but I'll be stronger than all 'yall!
you'll never win
you demon sons of bitches
I'll pull myself up past the sky
past the stars that hold my wishes
and gobble you all up
like little fucking fishes.

My Field of Wildflowers

You're my stillborn butterfly

afraid of your new beauty

with limp wings,

pried from the safety of your cocoon

by my old hands

in a forest where everything

is charred.

Only the skeletons of trees

once lush with life and birdsongs

can admire your strange elegance

as you lay listless on their roots

that thirst for a storm of passing love

and thunder.

I want to carry you away

to my field of wildflowers

and resurrect you with the unmasked glow

of the shy moon, who only shows its face

in this meadow of lies.

I'll watch the breeze wake you on my fingertips

then let you fly away, carelessly

into a world of color

I'll never compare to. 

Micro Poem

When I return to the earth

I’ll let the fairies play hide and seek
with my bones
in hopes that they’ll hollow
my phalanges into little flutes,
so music can flow
from the tips of my fingers
that crafted countless poems.

The First Time I Saw You in a Dress

I touch your face in the casket
and feel the bone just below.
Soon you’ll be a skeleton in a blue dress
and the smile I loved since birth
will peek at me between the aisles
of Wal-Mart around Halloween.

It will be your new face, come October
I’m not sure how long it takes
but once I close the lid
you’ll never be the same.

I shouldn’t have come
because this is how I’ll picture you now
and it doesn’t even look like you.
I’m asking you to haunt me, like you promised.
You said when you die I’ll feel you in the breeze
but it’s March
and the wind is cold.

Micro Poem

With each breath

I lose myself

in your forest of whispers

where pixies flutter

between the hairs

standing on my neck

and dance over goosebumps

to the unforgettable rhythm

of your moans

and secretes...

Immortal Wonder

When I was young
I found the urn
of a fairy in the woods —
an empty beer bottle
filled with flakes of dew
and morning moonlight.
I knelt
and prayed for her
to become a sylph
then watched the sun
ascend her sprinkled body
into the sky.

Now years later
the wind
still slants this gentle rain
towards my wrinkled face.

Universal

I wonder if aliens write poetry;

comparing their love to the endless stars

in their dusty red sky,

where our sun is just a faint flicker.

Do they write with technology beyond ours

or do they still dip their quills into a jar of ink

as dark as the universe between us?

I wonder what other worlds

have spilled their tears onto a page

stroked by the pen

of a mentally unstable genius,

who let his soul gush from out the pores

of his gray skin

and travel down his arm to the tip

of a silver pen, empty

of whatever substance would mark the paper.     

My First Pet

I watched his gold scales shimmer

in the faint glow of my nightlight...

I was so scared of the dark

so I pulled him gently from the water

and watched him dance in my hands.

He looked so happy,

and I knew he'd keep me safe

from all the ghosts who were peeking in from the hallway.

I laid him on my pillow, right next to me,

and watched him breathe slowly.

Now his eyes were glowing

under the milky way of plastic stars

that shone down from the plaster heavens

of my ceiling.

He started breathing real heavy,

I knew he 'musta been scared of the dark too

so I read him a bedtime story

and petted him through every word.

It took him a while to fall asleep

but once he did I gave him a goodnight kiss

and pulled the blanket over my head.

No ghosts or icky dead things will get us now Swimmy...

Crunch

I'm walking alone, hand in hand

with the sound of snow

to the corner store

that just got robbed...

this snow wont be white for long

soon it will blacken with oil

and ash from dreams flicked away

on cigarettes.

It will lose this surreal crunch

that numbs reality for a moment beneath my feet

and turn to slush

like everything else.

To soak through my shoes and numb my feet

that will never carry me away

from here.

All I have left is prayer

and an ounce of weed

full of seeds

but I'm too sober to care.

The lawns are perfect for angels tonight

to leave their proof behind like fossils

for the hopeless

who spend their lives digging for treasure...

But no one believes in miracles anymore,

those things Christmas stories are made of...

even though secretly, we're all waiting

for a child who has nothing to lay in the snow

with outstretched arms and an innocent face

facing the stars with wonder

in those brief years when hope is still a thought

to leave us with something to believe.

But the only thing in the snow tonight

are my footprints, my path,

the farthest thing from holy

that'll probably be gone by sunrise...

But still,

crunch, crunch, crunch,

Terrible Tenants

My demons have been living in my mind

rent free, for years now...

I'm too scared to evict them

so I just pretend like they're not there.

Even when they're stomping the floor

to heavy metal music

having orgies with angels

who contract burns from their flames,

through all of it I just sit here

with a cup of coffee and a book

while they shake the plaster ceiling

of my sanity.

I haven't slept in days

I'm angry, guilty, drunk, and tired

and they're up laughing

about all the things they're getting away with.

Hallucinating Hell

I miss the smell of the marijuana on your breath as we laughed at the world in the darkness of our filthy apartment. I used to hate the way it smelled, but I’ve been craving the contact high of your kiss. It’s hard to believe that you’re not breathing anymore, and your chest is motionless in the morgue. I refuse to believe that your lips are cold, and that you’re lying naked without me there to touch you. Why would you leave me here alone? You were the only thing I had but I had everything in you. I found a strand of your hair on the pillow soaked in your nightmares, and then looked around our room hopelessly for your ghost. I don’t know why I haven’t cried… I guess there are just some things tears can never wash away, and I know you’re one of ‘em.

I see the bottle of pills sitting on the nightstand. You placed them back so neatly before you drifted off, leaving only two in the clear orange container that glows like a grinning jack-o-lantern under the lamplight in an otherwise dark room. Two isn’t enough to kill me, but maybe I could get a decent buzz and visit you in a hallucination of hell, where you sit before the devil's throne sucking his red dick. I'll vanquish him with the light of our love and take his throne, then get a boner for your lips that are warm again. We'll reside here forever and never get another eviction notice until the end of days, when we'll spiral into a never-ending darkness with the demons who scream almost as loud as you when I caress your clit in a world where sinners are saints.

There is of course, the possibility that none of that bullshit is real... and that you're nothing now, just a body that I should steal before it turns to bones. The smell of your rotting flesh would be a lovely perfume as you lay in bed with me, sleeping beautifully in a trance nothing can break. When my prescription is refilled I'll take the whole bottle too... I'll die cuddling your bones then rot away with the warmth of love in my arms on our semen-stained mattress. No one will find us once the sun sets, and the world joins us in our numb darkness that is a dreamless sleep in each other's arms.