EXHALE: End Violins Production

End Violins is almost finished its first draft.

Here are some sounds regarding the project, should
you want to help write the music (it will be
on a violin, free that in mind)

tweet or email me

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16

3 New Slams and Drexel Visage Winter Classic Coming in Jan.

EXHALE:
-Before the three possible considerations,
Visage has at least 5 poems, that all 5
poets are collaborating on, 5 lines each,
shooting to have them written and recorded
BY January.

-My twitter has just passed Larry Mednte.
Ironic.

-I'm putting in some work to the citypaper
probably going to be overlooked by someone
from another city, but thats philly

-I noticed also, I have a ton of books I haven't
posted from fall of 2008, which there was
quite a lot of development
and need to be posted


SLAMS:

Untitled 1

I am very afraid
I vary, in frays, lights hues and all the while
Cutting cues in shades above passing windowsills,
Blinded by obsession and wordplay
Hoping that these windows will give me
A break
A junkie walking in the twilight, I’m on my way home
With a knife I held up, pause, a young man
Another strand of life in slivers, silver pointer
Poignant, I held him up on my faulty shoulders
For a SEPTA transpass to get past
Life
I stole a young bull in a bear market a rebel
With a claw, swipe, card with a hood on the brink
Of campus like a tag in your neck and with my
Shiny pointy finger to his neck I whispered an answer
You asked why is we Americans, Amiri, because evil said so HAHA!
Evil values I eval u ate, hunger was my first memory
So I center attention staged with a ring leader for
My finger, a silver slice of the American dream
My God looks like a Zionist, and he loves ends
Like- come here Palestine, end.
Like a period, no Pablo, just end of a life, sentence,
Words are worthless lisping, he asked me to let him go
My reply was emotional
My mother aint hold me, so I now have you
Polarizing the concrete you walk on, well I hate the city
And the only way out is to be opposing values
Ironic in iron prisons built of prisms from the sun
And in the same time it took
For me to hit every branch of my family tree on the way down
His hand went to his pocket
He gave me his way out

Untitled 2

I saw her stuck
Struck dealing blows to windpipes
And the only blows ever forgotten
Are dealt in glass
She was learning love after events
Not precursors like the ‘giver’
I was digging trenches in the sun
A clockwork of orange agents gently
Gentrifying, searching displacement for a love
In a giant peach perched near the catcher
In the riot, him, handing out handfuls of pamphlets
And the Unabombers love letters to the earth
Several banned reasons why caged birds sing
While trapped in ideal states
I was caged, noosed under vocal chords
As my 32 ivory pointers turned on me with
A world of words, charging me
Upfront for delayed gratification
In stutters or blanks
I rolled passed the stopping signs
As war and love are both just sentences
That don’t know how to end
I threw some moss to break the mold in return
Penned penicillin ceilings with no ink
-Corperated, we could grow and be moss, and be
Found years later like McVeighs testimony
I caught her eventually
Crossing the street because she didn’t like
What side she was on, chicken
Shy, locked, and shaking spears at the alpha
“bet” he said and I paranoid
Like a verb wondering who’ll get
Used necks embraced thriving anywhere
Coerced like a birds nest
He told me that what I though was day
Was just a night shining

The stress of the world is in my joint(s)
Ventures

Rushing Roulette (With Poetic Assasin) ROUGH DRAFT

Cultural marrow championing its hollow chambers / spinning bones for a self search a hallowed past oft / trying to find a cold skank within the self as a female / or a monster raping the sloth of women, as a male / this settling debris has you standing at a sit in

Assasin
The starter starting up again - no kick back but can't put my feet up- too patient, adrenaline rushing the doctor within me- steel pulse- the band, not the tap tap of my arm, cocked hammer- too chicken to lay an egg, fried thoughts on the sidewalk-jogging my memory to see how this all started

Startled, standing, staring into the shelves of self / searching for fall in shelter / under trouble like roots / the ground is loose leaf defined / as ink is still in a plastic jacket, straying

Assasin
Dog days of slumber / a plumber - cracking into pipe dreams, it might seam that i'm slacking - lacking the right thread with loud panting

Opening a moment for a clothed mind / some whims latch onto forever like skin / a thin layer of patience over a dry run / tumble, fold spines into boxes for next season / lock.

Assasin
Master - there was a time I succumbed into being dick tracy - chapman - fast car coming for me- suicide- under the man hole - dug grave news after calling spade

I’m pour, Seeping speech/ I’m fumbling vocal chords rushing the reply as a power outlet / letting out only a WAIT! To the raid on harpers ferry / before the End live / internal civil warring the end line

Summer of Rage Rough Draft pt 2

to be edited at a later date. here is the second portion 22 - 88

XXII
Senses
,Census
,A corrosive poll taken
,Stolen rust
,Rush of steal to the head
,A stay before, pretext, ahead
,Rolls
,A corrosive role played
,A corrosive parole drained
,The senses
,Watchful eyes pry lids trying to see sounds
,Words fail bridging the gaps between taste
,Best buds become enemies at the scent
,Taken
,Census is a point
,Taken

XXIII
I was kicked by route sixty six
Where each cell in its foot had a sickle
This was
A decision made by a million gavels
Pre
Meditation
As if a group of ghandis bound
Cover to cover I was bound to get there
Bound to catch the leather to the head
My destination took its mark round
Halo
I wrote and read the book on bruise
Wayne- the night bored me as it began to fade
I chose to run

XXIV
In the ab scents of light
Sweat
She’s afraid of the
Bark
So indulged I bring the freighter
Of fright
Gee, its great after being out late
Walking my baby back
Ribs- hand, a, b,
You get the point.

XXV
Someone calculated the hypotenuse
Of somewhere over the rainbow
Is actually lower than the clouds
Where the ravens pry away at bodies
On the chimney tops
In the heat where ice melts into sewage drops
Someone engineered heaven
And I think you’re not going to like
The new look about the place


XXVI

Cheater cheater pumpkin
Skinned punctured by the bayonet
Of a bayou blue rebel
When all the issues we levy to read
Cannot compare, just stare
Cheater cheater you left death
Stood up before your prom
And decided to go with the
Flow of persons instead of nature
In a world where Cherokee is a porn star
In a jeep commercial
Jeepers mister his story sure doesn’t
Look like mine
Difference is a dinner plate to be
Gobbled

XXVII
I was out of order
I’m sorry, sorting out my laughs
Between loudspoken “of’s”
Well, sort of
That number you want to be in
Among the saints
Marching
And I as an atypical poet,
Got out of line of poem

XXVIII
Substituting circles for zeros
Seems to be the rage
Instead of repeating or coming to a learning
Point in a full circle we cycle in eclipses
Never really reaching but always



XXIX
45 passed the hour
I hold tight to the calibur of the
Our world is just words now
Hands on the clock are just fingers
And our generation is just too
Politically correct to just pull that trigger

XXX
Land of a thousand picketers
So many causes
Such little effect

31
He sat in
Against the will
Won’t you lend an ear
Air
Fixated on a cause
Calls for aspxhiyation callous
Hand over of administration
Hand
Shaking skeletons under calm skin
Thumbs reconnect until the cause
Has little affect
Whos necks?


32
The sky was pot sloshing
Fire
A famished burn searching, found
When a man sold his brothers soul
The last hand shake
Shook a nation still
Be still
Re: main ignorance

33
While eating a tangerine
Someone questioned my preference in
Quests
On the weekends I find connections
Are weak and
Little did we know
That someone had such crooked tongue
Electronically


34
With the smallest free form
Figure I plagiarize
Sentences gaveled out before
And behind the same bars of rebirth
I see the inscriptions to take me
There and back again
A gain in the wrong direction
I cut the director
My flavor of medium


35
She
While watching the directors
Intent
Shunned all these
Intentionally
A list of labels formed by
The local anti deformation league
Forming these like birth
It is just like a woman
To do something beautiful and
Return exiled

36
Asking what size
She seized the venti lation
An combination of to and fro
A froth of air
Cloud
Misty representative of sky
She sized the lines of white
Until her veins became coarse
Blue
Poem






37
She was made of earth and with a bow
Of rain in her hair
A streaming cycle flowing
Where are you
Form
No longer where you are from



38
Amor amour drinking sleep
To just be self
A masquerade of naked grounds
In which to bunker under
Where the sandman harvests
Where the summer usurps memories
Clad under amor
War


39
Only in a developed world
Could we word a space a waste
Land
Where we rose from the bile
Generations rooted in earths nutrients
A treed concrete thus becomes the new
Savior, savanna, Sahara, and a metal
Atlanta depicts the atlas as vastly
Deranged
Ranging sentences rage disguised guile
Repeated repetoires of beginning
As ends
Meet

40
Someone threw a curveball
And I caught reflections
A handful of mirrors only retells
Except these exrecpts were left
Untold before hand
Before hands there were fists
I swear to you fists made this world
And we forgot about open palms

Drunk off of morning one mourning
Letting teeth sink like ships
And lips as dry as nothingness
Caress the fortressing walls of another’s
Back
Down
Crash
A fallout of necks
Hide beneath the hairline
Stratum

41
She wrote in lipstick on dashbords
And clothes left on the sideline
Before the sports star faded into the
Crowd
Her genotypes were riot
This was when
The field was game


42
Invitations filled with farewells
Turned the coughing black

43
A university of soil spread its
Wings with twigs
I wrote in the dirt with triggers
Hoping to spur holes in the fabric
Of wayward earth


44
I framed Whitman
Closest to close a privileged mindset
A papal service
A union of selves barred to
Watch
And on my wrist was this
A tattooed constellation of
Betrayals
Or releases
Depending on how you treat the cut





45
Cities of gravity sharing the dark
An honest opposite
An undressed, naked, encompassing shadow
Of sorts in such an arranged array
Of concrete steel
Populations made of frenzied blood

46
Still as steel
It is hard to move
On
A hand of time dared the lightswitch
And I cautioned that my morning
Was still night no matter what
The analog logged
I carved out my wood heart in heat
Burning still as steal


47
A disorganized attack of leaves
Pestered the face of innocence
On its travels to school
With determination between covers
Where thought exiled piles
One turn and the wrong learn
Can be taught
One twist and the line
Takes you to understanding
A separate truth

48
Exctint instincts find fine
Inditement under such scrutiny
Tiny circulations of thought
Find the biggest insights
Inbred decisions hack with little
Precisions as small as iris
Exsistence is one little circle
That you are just not in on



49
Collapsed veins flow freer than
Trapped minds of scholars

50
Neighborhood winks
To nearby congressmen
Where areas become thoughts
And people are only lines on a map
Battle lines apologize in rhythm and blues

51
A sticky arm to a table
Finds the greatest pull of masses
As if a hand of unraveled dulktape
Caulks millions of memories
No longer human
A sticky hand handles time
Struck

52
Thirteen sevens ago there was
A peacemeal aggregate of persons
Personage, as if persones were baggage
To be carried by the veins of some
Repeat like dreads
Woven
A time ago there was an agreement
That was a statement said twice
Before

53
Water from the well
Behaved as hornet hives
Same old same old
Landslides of politicians
Savor the drops of saviors
There sof drink of hard
Bodies
Of work
What a work man is
Working against growth



54
A playwright wrote a wrong play
Of history it seems
Didn’t remember some flurries
Of cannons and canons
And on and on it goes
It comes and it never left
Cycles no longer look familiar
To the aged man
All your idols were staged
Because truth was in the audience
Inaudible


55
Only the dead sleep
And your hymns were hemmed
And your seems were just
So it’s
Phrases become the cage in which
You sit
Repeating another man’s book
Of history

56
When all your poems match a land
You’ve never been to
Your blood is so far from those sands
Claim them
It is the American way
Colonize, profit, neglect.
Sell, cells, stem
Do your research


57
When your world comes crashing down
Open your mouth
Drink
And savor each savior till the last
Drop your wages
Pay close attention to open
Palms




58
A heart made a promise of itself
To a mind
A mind only promises to others


59
Deep shit to drown in
The ab scents of light
Inhale
Vapor from the macadam
The same smell exhaled from madmen
Those un made men who weren’t
Let into the craft to be crafted
Stuck in a forever mold
Pressures, deep, drown
Breathe


60
Pre face the face in the shape of a cursor
Swear words, pre, be four
Plus two then tripled

61
Loose influences tighten exits
In trenches where the geology
are just levels of trances
the sky just seem so far
a OMMITED WORD
no way out.

62
A days constituents meddle with time
More than hands on clocks or
Prisoners of such abstractions
These are the true orecstrators
Of dark nights to come
The silent orators of sky
Man made connoisseurs
Experts bred from the colors of the sun
Eugenic formulas where its activities
Leaves little areas for siphoning out blame


63
The price of ever sense
An all around tax on the mind
Where silence can be layered into
Different melodies
This phrase explains prodigy better than
Working definitions working against
Your chances of ever completing
A constellation of works like Motzart
Or to be so good that you are overlooked
Like Amiri, ever sense is the lone friend of genius
Politics has tried to try in sentences ever since.



64
William Shakespeare wrote the bible
As some concerned mother would have
Created the bib to cover a chest
From such loose mouths
Fed
Open your mouth like you were going to
See something


65
The things we do are thin
Thin things we do to pass time
Measured in grease on space bars
Spaced
Freckles paint, covers, titles on those
Covers we cover our time with these
Books booked we cover our
Thin things
Obese people doing thin things
Die, it, die it is desired
Our covers are running thin
Measured in freckles
So thin

66
Where was God when
Children were murdered by prayers
A split, math separates to charcoal
Men
God only knows ugly among men
We say our women come from God
How can we contain beauty and
Destruction of beauties lineage
In the same conceptual argument
I argue God is ugly, through and through

67
Ahem
Ahem
A hem makes pants
Coughs create clothes
Wear rough exhales to incite
Gasps become chokes
As coughs make clothes
Ahem
Ahem
And then them came from with
Out skin
Outside to inside
Only to bring outside within
And without a clear throat
They were given a conscience
Poetry is just collapsing lungs
Ahem ahem


68
Painting on a storied window
Hoping to tell tall tales which
From this viewpoint would change the skyline
Lines to shake skies of iron
Irony
Pictures are worth thousands of words
That you cant hear
You cant see
Its only on this window
And from where you are it looks
Just like blinds
This is the irony of sight
Art is no longer an insight in sight
It depends on your view
Not contexts you have beforehand

69
Body bags made of questionable art
Leftover poems were said to
Keep bodies between lines
The likes of chalk or coffins
But only a bag
Bodies of work buried
In flames
They say the sun is to come up
Tomorrow
But we need the heat today
Burn


70
remember only the people who loved
him to get him here.
and will serve them and those who will help him meet
"there".
there, are people who show up at checkpoints
in your life, graduations, deviations, elevations,
accept: shun the "rules" the fine lines are fine indeed,
and monuments casted nameless,
deserve the best recognition.
list, footnote, recall- but do not keep people
who serve only your checkpoints. Love
is not time locked
like most averages will employ


71
you seem to be one of the most
driven of the unlucky
even if your grants come as loans
and your focus is derived from such
clauses underlined
see page two thousand for definition
there is no such a page
tear that bible up forgive that God
in which has left you
and a real creator will bless
you

72
a collection of bones on the table
and lungs on the corkboard
as pinpoints for sighs or remark
such tools will leave you weary
asking for change
in a beligerant manner



73
electric bloodstream
an armed arm ticked off on days
the night wasn’t enough
it was spent on bent spoons and
youtube clips of cows and moons
trying to get as high as before
fueling the fossil of a problem
the history of electricity
was written by a junkie





74
What graves have you seen a
Long outstretched paws
The sphinx etching a memorial of itself
Victor hugos grave
Time reaching into the conversation
When it asked the question to begin with
And reaching into its pocket said
I got you beat poet
He pulled out an unfinished poem
And said I’ll finish it sooner or later
You’ve got time

75
A poem was read made of
Firing lines and fire lanes
Wild faces extended and the other
Curiosity in the reflections of red
Reading extinguishes these lines
Burning air and breathing flesh

76
Im on a Chinatown bus from Philadelphia
To the city of the dead
Wondering how I got such a wonderful price
On a round trip ticket


77

I wrote everything about anything
About the counter and cultures on it
Unpurchased on a white paper
Crumpled up I threw it at the establishment
Only they deemed it white trash
In a politically correct world
Where politically correct is a newer version
Of truths
A man with two spines is not a man at all
I had so many of those pages
I could have made a better white house

78

Growth on short stories and tall tales
Will not create the average child
Equality among education is just piss in the wind
And you are the operative on the bench
Warming in the robust stream of
Consciousness
Jealous hobos gaze in the distance
They have long been forgotten by the
Urinary tract
The weight of the world is watery these days
A new gold standard



79
It has been said true revolutionaries
Endure fashions and trending topics
I beg on the counter for my change
I beg to differ as counters have
Take a culture leave an angry comment
Because it was taken already
A lot has been said
A lot of shit
Lauryn hill made some great music
And bob Marley, and bob Dylan and billy bragg
Like I said a lot of shit has been said
What has changed?


80
A mans skull is a universe
Expanding forevermore
How is it that these expanding sulci
Gyri churn sulfur and suffrage
In generations of gaunty reprisals
Society is just a hallucination
When the universe itself is damnned
Damn these thoughts
It’s a pleasure to be hear

81
A poem that repeats
Repeats lines repeats images repeats
Exact lines in a different way
A poem that repeats lines exactly in a different way
Of lines and images and exactness
Is just lines of repeating images and is that
Exact boringness that spurred the sixties

82
A coalition was created among coal miners
Men ready to burn forever from a forevers repression
In a world of remembrances and models of rembrant teeth
The youth are trying to say something
Tied to sayings of somethings before
Things that some knew now all know
If we all really knew what we know
These men would be ready to burn
And their flesh would be the newest
Melody in modern memory
Gone

83
Usain bolt is no Jessie owens
Usain bolt is no Jessie owens
Even without the context there is no
Contest
The measures of man may have changed
Re arranged
Arrayed frayed conciousness
Jessie owens was a man
Point blank
Point blankly at me for the truth
But your responses are non sense
usain bolt beats his chest with his fist.
Jessie owens beat the chest of inequality.

84
How many parts of an untelevised
Televised devised revolution
Spinning, a revolving door of what your
Parents parents felt inside
Pulling quotes as weapons you just
Don’t understand how to use
How many untelevised televised revolutions
Circles cycles will let you see
Your going in circles dancing around the
Problems problem
You are the law against drugs
But not the conversation with the junkies
The children in for life, imprisoned
But not the words to the children having children
Having children having children
But these children are our future


85
The land was fire
The wind was piss
This all was noted before in footnotes on cliffs
A footnote is just the chains of change needed
Jump
For joy

86
This poems lines were made of
Do not cross me jesus
Your prayers have been on us and our children
Killing a church of death and forgiveness
Was the footnote in pslams where the palms
With blood on them
Were a ok, be ok, see
The aleph bet
See the hieroglypgh
See the notations of in music
Melody
Rythem of change cant happen on a set
Set in stoned truths
Stoned by the tongue of man through
Generations of revision
Re
vision lacks sight




87
Oppression
There is no way out alive
Poem
There is no way out in a line
Of time around your neck
It reads
Man of the hour
Slaves






88
Throwing peace signs in a glass house
Break brave not even
Shatter hopes with roped fingers
I’d give the middle but all I have is a fist
Now
Back to the topic
At hand
new note, new bottle, same flame,
a fired up young man talking about creating tan lines of poetry.
Burn the writing
Im here to feed your wall

Summer of Rage Rough Draft

Summer of Rage: a youtubed set of poems. heres the first 21 as an ice breaker.


I.
Blades for fingers
itching at the butterflies that pass
in secession, withdrawal
a carving of porcelain skinned temporal portals
canvassing as far as existence
as if these reflecting fingers were
guardians

II.
draped in the skulls of those who
passed
in a patchwork of lobes and birthmarks
and eyelids for wings
sculpting a pewter monument
a note to self if you will

III.
pillows
creased with drowning remembrance of
unnerved heavens and hells
filled with a symposium of stratagems
all with a central tendency, were beat
ruffled, in an organized oscillation
as to break disunity

IV.
personification
a poisoned entrée brought by a heavy set waiter
walking slow on the domino colloquiums of time
consequential courses of discussions
ear say to the feet making a shaking set of planks
walking slow behind Coup d’etat and before tattoos
a place late to be conned, and fused with early
mourning

V.
the ground lied
a wake, an Orpheus of escaping phosphorus
the ground lied on Alice shoveling her groveling
disheveled personage as high as branches shelving
shelling hoards of root and granite
the ground spoke in the tongue of displacement
where a few bad times born of earth tore the sky
and in its frayed grey glory
it cried over Alice in clays
shunning the butterfly in her hair into exile

VI.
a crane was nested in distance
it spent its days dabbing on the sky
a fragile canvas sewn by the sons of
mountains and daughters of the dust
where ends begin ending and beginnings
are the only incompetent tenants that
republicans tack, marker, garner a destination
at a distance

VII.
a girl from ipanema
had a support ribbon on her shirt
and it read nothing
and being willing to try anything they
began to bargain about something
disillusioned by the walk to halfway
they thought they had discovered everything
but began to suffer as tolerance does
to most suffocating suffixes
cru suffixation

VIII.
writing on a block of inc
coperated corporal shapes of copper
priced persons crafted by visions tell
e that sesame street has only taught
about a wrought drought
the dry sands of paternal enslavement
write a letter to the rest of the letters
not resting in piece, those words, sentenced
to not become an accomplice to the
communism of communication

IX.
dichotomy
on a boat made of highlighters
he tried to single out, and get his point a
cross
jesus, the trip was a long walk on liquid
elaboration is disease harvested only by flies
its hard to see the meaning of life
on a river of corps’s

X.
an unemployed summer raged
into the office of season and took a number
as a function of time over death
the rage left many tethered red
pulsing with shut arteries until the oxygen
steamed through their pours
they lasted until morning
before they had nothing else to do with their lives

XI.
mechanochemical synchronies distilled
into symphonies to sell cells
sickles
whore if you would will your earnings
to your oldest child
with a face made of hands you
try to save face by folding early
however consider the pleasure derived
from decay maximizes over tiempo
as the fingers move thumbs covering
your brow, you bow
out

XII.
the boulevard of broken screams
has nothing on my block
desolate row home is where any
hatter is mad at the sicks winged who
can paint, right away a better day
merely from lidded eyes and pillows
to scatter plots of blocks even write now
its no wonder I look odd grouching about
under lids

XIII.
the coast was crystal
while a man with diamond eyes
rode figure eights in the stony brooks
wrote of figures which ate the dust
and another one writes the
surplus of what another story was
built on
there are towers as far as the I
can sea

XIV.
Mark, a punctual man of his period
Was quoted eventually as a man in question
For parenting bastard theses
Questing away on a dash of asterisks
Using language as a vehicle to heckle
A point across largely unheard of in small circles
One which was slashed as dysmorphic
An exclamation of changing times chained
In a secession of selves as if
Brackets

XV.
Be my friend
Wrap me up into small talk largely depended
On the last remaining poem heard
Hearts drawn in the connecting dots of i
-rise: is there meaning or is it just an ellipse
Help me dichotomize patterns
Lets personalize our page as up to date
Kept sea creat
U res olution is a revolution in my chest
Pirating tyranny sited in my webbed skeleton
We can televise it if you want to
Give and take

XVI.
Seclusion loves company
Charters and other persons
Busy anes thetizing the competition
Of hues strewn from earth arching
Over the firmaments of fundamental
Realism
Seems to exile the abstract for seman
Ticks carrying a lime wired explosive
Disease, understand
Quarrel loves quarantine

XVII.
She hung her breasts up for the night
Areolas became a function of time because space
Was being arrested for development
The space between such firm words had become
Less handy, further out of speech to tongue at
Far from the rocky mountains of sofas
In a place where caves and clubs were
Two peas in a pod

XVIII.
It came
Walking through walls like windows
And smelled of wonder licks
Bathed in language and three times distilled
To boycott idioms as if an iconoclast
Its dominance parlayed
Pervaded as if an aroma
And it deciphered
In a raptorial kind of way

XIX.
If you could please insert your city
Hear
Fill in the blank
Et statements you have for ears

XX.
He stood in cement sentiment
Solid oppression pressing on his
Shirt
Words
“I love collage”
Combination was just all the rage

XXI.
V
When in roam burn it down
It isn’t for vendetta, or the beginning of visa
Which is your end
And not to be confused with video
Which ended the radio star
Fuck: Virgina, Henry the V- (and the V II for the matter), Ve, Vu
Forget: versus, vital and vial, viral
Stop using the twenty second letter,
Don’t put it back to back to make U (the
Middle ages were a croc regardless),
V is for vociferance and only it.
Lets start a word, a war
Worth fighting four

Bay of Pigs Rough Draft

List at the moment:

Bay Of Pigs
DROWNING IN YOUR SKIN
APOLLO
DEVOE
GOING GREEN
EAT UP
HIPPOCAMPUS
THERE WILL COME A TIME
BOOM
LEFT FOR DEAD
BAY OF PIGS
CLI CHE GUEVARRA
MIND IS HELL OF A DRUG


DROWNING IN YOUR SKIN

trying to burn some time
melting clocks during the dali
daily
he was choked up trying to kill time
drowning in your skin

he found himself, thirsty for self
es steem is a vapor that
your
sweat glands were perfume to

drowning
frenzied gurgle for air
as time gags, grinds stone,
struggle
as if the creation of coal
compacted between two earthy hands

Sprained lives need helping hands
To burn fingerprints off
And get a five finger discount on
Some food for thought

or diluted versions of you liquefy
pretty words that sound poetic
into truths lying in your hands
he bit you
feeding him
you
are of tea and lilly and intention
where he was enthralled to rally
within you
is a fire made of wet logs and soil
that he dedicated all of his dry jokes
to continue your flame
and when you raged
he pulled oxygen from you by
letting his backfires pull from your burn
by pursing his lips
pursuing yours
by catching your tongue and eye
with a walk and kiss
out of sight
is mind out of itself
roaming terraces of thought
wonder
he wandered your skin blindly
with fingers of worry and nail
ease themselves on your collarbones shelf
as if books you read
with your tongue
tied
there are tides of tongues
as waves of greetings
flush in corals and pinks
an auditorium of faces
blush

draped in your skin
he is tightly attached to your bone

you want out of this city
and he wants out of this skin
anxious, he was, there are
closets in his own skeleton
Bodies of work
Words
The need to be let out
let the city burn
skin


APOLLO

I Apollo
The blonde one
I apollo
Gize
It has been quiet time since I quit
Quite some time since I quilted an exit
Drafted a plan through the ceiling cracks
And faulty opportunities you call windows
That don’t seal the zeal
All the presents given from my presence
I creeped too often through windows
And my utilities bills were too much to handle
So I had to skip town for a while
I have been eyeing you
Like self
I-ing
You into a pitcher, pour baby.
Caught like a cause
Full of myself
And I see you hear too
With you I’d last through steel
Steal
I last like the end line
Peeling the paint
I Apollo, even with my light feet
And broken grammar
I cant not catch your upward movement, mountain, peeking
Into tomorrows stanza

Modern day organists play with your heart and mind for tune
i am hear
to sing you a song or propose lyric
as if it were my own
i am here
minus the elusive alliterations
or ill advised tempo in syllable
i am able
to live above that
peeking

who do you turn to for your lost years?
Who owes you?
I spent my life selling your self
In coins and terms
Sorry that
your
shape is hungry
as if contours
of a mouth
were the figure
of you go
figure l write a poem about
you on sandpaper
hoping id not finish
I Apollo
For when I took opportunity
And broke it for you to chew
Poor on food for thought enough to steal
I took off, ran off, with more than you could
Chew

it is the thought that counts
i dont want you to think too much
went into this emotion
where this pamphlet wears words
i have placed in a jacket
wishing to cover you
your touch is of oregano
and hug is built with the same iron
cultures thrive to achieve
in protection of what matters most
intention
you
Signed me in
ear to ear my neck is your baseline
I expected you to write yourself off
Like an approaching due date
I passed by
In a tube of people
Where passage was limited like scriptures
Until a friend of mind offended you did you
Notice it wasn’t me
Who asked the rape victim if they came too
And I paid for their free dom of speech
Now im asking raped minds
When they will come too
Senses
So to speak its no wonder my lines
Are over looked
I Apollo even if you read me wrong

I was reading until i drowned
your voice is captivating
and any other word i could dig
from the barge called thesaurus
would not replicate any characteristic
of the caliber the sound
the taste of your voice is
coalescent
my throat is more thankful than ears
and to you i am all tongues


DEVOE

Follow her lead
Not graphite
Inhale the room
permitting manifestations or projections is
a guided sense a flock of curtains
steering your room as a ship in a sea of novices
Since leaders position with poison
She has halved her poems into understatements
And metaphors as such you don’t understand
Or feel left out of
We don’t want a direct connection but rather
A correlation of inspiration
Lets not get causal

she sought redemption in unlearning taught images
mental perception of failed synapses
a trek from the save heavens of knowledge
to a betrayal of ignorance
where word choice is a stubborn sort of feeling
to know is a stubborn sort of feeling
you are set like a chess match and
you feel creative when you build
others ideas and paths
folly is the safe thought that you
made a new route follow
on land that was there regardless
only matter is being refocused
only atoms shifting
and only your focus, matter, your drives and fears. refocused
she didn’t intend to build or shift
for creation
she intended to create from textures prisoned in her personality
and refused to take anything from this failed fortress of letters passed down as a weaving
their language is not the luggage she took with

she never called on level
or structures branching for motivation
to pursue hearts
she walked over a family trees root
in which engraved are statements not
of moss or growth but of stone and other
solids of cessation, end, a holding point
step
firmly over and walk away
from apples and their inscriptions her
duty to intention is more rewarding
that the shade of inherited idea, language or patterns thereas
poison


GOING GREEN

I’m out wiring limes
With explosive tongues as if
Speech could change a man
Pirates
In Somalia have only one thing in common
Peace
I would rather march in every month
Then my make difference
In my size t shirt
I want to make similarity instead of
A difference in this world
Is
Setting on the mind like scalp
End

Uppity people always are looking down at me
I am down stares like nose
With pushing poetry to the people
By any verbs necessary someone else noted
In adjectives they trust
I rust
Not rush with speed but decay at eas
See does it, sight does it, it’s the eyes
The letter shaped up like a column
Solumn, the self that keeps me down stares
Whos knows it’s I
the mind has quite a leash on the body
Lease at least
there are fields of umbilical chords
replacing
fields of coral
going green never was so bio illogical
language was novel now a navel
we are attached to by
writing
the human element and indelible mark on
conveying and storing information
has turned on us into a reductive
burden of intelligence
a constraint of anecdotal frays retying themselves
to another’s nerve cells for their regard
speaking through our garments and armament
they push the buttons and sew what we reap only to wear, where
language is the only novel
i want to read

Communicating with whisper is all I want to do is
Use words noosed in my vocal chords
While my mind wanders in the mire
I found the outlet to plug and chug poems with
Picking apart the leftovers in trashcans
Another mans failure is my progress
Ion
Charged like a scrunched brow without the sound
Yell
Ow the pain of whispers rushing for decibels
Where juxtaposition is a sexual stance and not juxt a phase
My life has so much listen but not enough talk
Im in the kitchen of my heart making beans with a lisp
Growing stalk for jack to storm up
Structures in setences happening now to catch up to uppity people
Frown
Is the shape of my tra jectory
Whining, mario, super
Honk if you feel the scream now going green around your
Throat choke
Heavy headed at the top leaning pisa
Piece of perversion is the lost key to locked words
I ab use I use abs to for lifelines to write about death on
In chalk and syrups the combinations of wire, lime
Please
Understand the last stanza
You didn’t and wont now go

run in circles and cycles like a step line
i will always stay out of line
trying to get a head
on my shoulders with ichobods heart in my palm
at the end of the fight
i grow you circle, plural, circles
for
cash crop

going green rotting
writing lines of poverty
you move in circles, cyclical squares its why
i wire limes
im going green in the face
asphyxiated on being different
I can’t feel my face being
So choked up

i am down stares like nose


EAT UP

I wish your will was as strong as your won’ts
Please put your hands into the fire
Brother I am burning to talk to you
Face to
Face your issues with friendship at your side your
Family is blood on hand
Wash what you say in care
When that blood is taint a noose

It’s a dog eat dog world out there and im
Only trying to be humane about this
Your desires are fraternal
Groups define you
And knowing more about others
Prohibits you from knowing yourself
You will always be someone else
Yours truly

he wrote this low on my stoop, to self, to help
low to remind himself of the hire learning
in the recession
progression is key he tumbled in the lock
school is prison he was the chiasm locked into crossing over
the light enlightenment isn’t learning your
teachers agenda it is your own
you own your thoughts or you can keep
paying drexel to come to terms
carpeting your speech like tastebuds
you carpool with thought
same place same pace same face
you all look alike

insert squares stanza

its so easy to forget the low while on top of
an SUV with a cloth over some words
drenched and burning to explode
he had hand it to you

Now he’s
crying with a pack of wolves about this
stopped sleeping with the sheep
-dirty practice that is
letting your self get comfortable
just to watch comfort walk all over you
lethargy is our generation
with a smile
he watched less talented individuals garner position
inept and unable to score
creativity seems to be in the eye
of the coach at hand he bitched via bottled words
he was beat
in dull drums
it all sounds the same to an untrained ear
listen to me please
he ran out of food for thought
Leaning on the steps to recovery covered in your skin
Hungry
Spending life online with opposing nouns on the other
Line
Of poetry you eat up inhale insert
Hear
No eval u ate some of the worst art
You’re sick
Like the rest of them

he was different like contrast
contract sign hear with ears
write me of shoulders
shrug my wait, wait,
now he is heavy on your mind
watching you settle lower like suns
through the eyes in the back of my hand
for poetry where the line is kinda long
you really want that
wait

he is about to go in like Nixon and
you have no voice in the matter
you use another’s tongue to confess the ills
concerns
idiosyncrasies
structures of social fabrics a poetically transmitted infection
which casts individuals into the same mouth you
leg at to get out of your chest
emotion
great minds think alike
weak minds use the same mouth you
eat up


HIPPOCAMPUS

i keep hippos incase cripple hands
try to be cortical of my pen strolls
tourettes is the shake hemming my
pages together
and i wonder if my words can shake up
a mass of wait
suspend suspense in a new
formula of anxiety disorders to watch the staged set
my conduct is not conducive
I lay out my palms as blueprints my
Lifelines are the endlines people sprint to
Catch me if you can with
This amount of evidence
Carved from my tongue

i have vains which there is a need
for a heroine
to recant my original blood flow
and supersede my anatomy
or recede my
sure
lines
build buildings and tackle cities
i draw lines on water
because writing ills in sand for wind
to blow away is not quick enough
to beat the haunting image i tried to
push onto you reader
i house celestial beings in my apt
with the summation of prices from suns
left to rot in this space I have to
pay for the light that inspires
the city to glow in dim hours
in which leasing out that glitz i ask
for rent you are paying me little mind
i am asking for hearth
ember
blush
when in rome, burn it down

i roll up papers like a forehead
just to wipe up some of the shit
that comes out my mouth
is just a noose sometimes
nuisance
i can choke you up with honestly
or hang low with the cool
or loosen grip with a calm word
or string up fallacy with a
puppeteer tongue
puppy faces plus feces
is equivalent to the process
it all adds up i am alge
growing on your rock bottom mind

i carved my tongue so
the sour and bitter taste buds are missing
and all i eat is your sugar and carbs
burn quick and forever
so i may never fail by following your route
taste into your speech
as cannons
the only canons I want to hear
pierce desolate air with silent progression
its growth traverses forms of space
carried by a ventricle of word
travelling as an exhale among roots
your sweet words only price desolate air
letting me buy
rent
Its only a matter of mind before the times fight back


THERE WILL COME A TIME

She didn’t know what parenthesis or period she should
(yo)use to be punctual
her timing was off and she could
you
lend me a moment
my coup is running late
Its easier to believe something that inn someone
it seems

Terrors
Brought by tongue where promises rest
And propositions or phrases statements
The pen isn’t in cheek
It is where the actions pass, tense
Ready to revolt if sniffed out
Ready to halt armies of arms in a grasp
It is in the hand

You are gravity the pulled on her strings
Pinocchio heart even if she lied
Down
On the ground as a giant tied by your tongues
Strings, roped down
With sheets of music and penned poems
she only used the graphite to portion
My movement to
You
War is the only answer
Half the battle is complacency
In love and war
Ing
Words
She threw lines of hope out to help
Give her a padded room
Small window of opportunity
And there will come a time that
she hurts you to free myself
Keys open jaws

Sometimes you write yourself a reminder
A time capsule of emotion or a mine in mind
Either you know that a storm is coming
Or a drought
And you pursue that last meaning
That glance out the side of a bus
Knowing the chances outweigh
Choices
O ever returning
You never return
Your body ages to the piano
Which strings may need to be tuned
Replaced yet you never hit the same key
On the car paint to etch those letters in
Which seemed to be in the right order
Along with the guidance of stars and not so very
West coast
Yet you travel there now

There will come a time when touch loses feeling
And sounds forget pitch and taste becomes redundant
And character cannot be defined
When there is blur there is this
Water behind her kneecaps

And with the big hand no longer on the clock
It is on her neck tugging jugulars
Asking me for change

fathered time, gestation of thought,
may i have a minute
she is confined to an assortment of lines
of times
of minds
and while occasions rise and bubble
There will come a time
Bomb



BOOM

The towers fell
block by blocked esopoghus
choking condos in canto
you wanted out the city
i wanted out my skin

I am not on the same level like story
As before the
Spilling sons or dropping eggs
Easter festering in the trashbag
abortion
Hold your head with your hand high
And jump
fall with the falling buildings
and sleep with the city tonight
boom

I do not care anymore for regards
The word that connects entities with sympathy in garments
I execute plans to destroy whole cities
One word and it works every time
Arc
Rise and decline frown at me
Meet me at your waist
The beltway to your hearth
I spent my life selling your soul
The body of this work can be found
Underneath some beltways like priests
its always jack in Philadelphia.
boom

How to destroy a city
Its fairly easy if you have an open
Mined
Explosive
Hide its backbone to
Peel its spine
Tie its vocal chords
Its news old
Its landmarks marked religious
Its people different
Quickly
As to not let it leak into
The next generation
Have a piece of mind
Boom
I do not want the circulating newspapers you are the squares I bitch about
On corners where if you take the same angle
You’ll have the next corner saying the same
Swagged up lines parallel to another
Lining me up to believe that the whole city is
A nutty bunch of squares going in circles
Each turn, same angle, what a shitty flush
Of emotions where the pavement is liquid
And the liquor is the grown folks version
Of where the wild things are
Is where your world of words is not
You are the ribbon in the sky
Never a dermital line like life
Left on skin as a reminder that death is the
Only thing promised
And this murderer structures shapes to get
Lost in you
Are the mapping function unlike our stars
We follow today taking us the same places
With even the same stages of faces
You are process, they are poets.


why have philadelphia
when i want is a world of words

Boom.


LEFT FOR DEAD

He was in the morgue dying to be somebody
When he realized he was a no body
Spirit flavorless like sprite
Rolling off your tongue like sweat
Salt
Saw to bone I saw you
To the bone eyes plural columns on the page
I
Braced myself for the beating matter
only to insure he lives
i figure changing lives keeps mine
and if the next poem isnt better than the last
that might be his last line
life is a deadline of poetry
he wrote life lines
if you are here for a purpose
then stay useful
Forgetting beasts and bellies
he has a closet of skeletons in bone marrow
A consortium of rotting bodies of work
Inside his frame
Of reference you will not find a list
Of quotes of others where quotes
Never really lets you get the full story
As if the bodies to come on beaches
Had biographies as thick as stones
Or the sands
Whereas, humans, are not even a freckle
On the face of time

death art and sport have on strong commonality
opportunity
none need talent
or motive
it is all a matter of timing and eyes with shoulders
to give you that lift
shrug for a no or now is the who and we are the past
he was the future
dont mistake any of my opinions for truth
Because there’s a few versions of that
truth I speak of like
who we have touched

don’t tell me how to live my life
die


BAY OF PIGS

Invaded bays
Pools of waiting grounds where thoughts rest
On the sands turned into glass instantly
Where it all could be seen at one visit
All thoughts as one bound book of
Translucent glass and water
Clearly
Like the waves of glass and structure of rotting
Bodies of work
It was time to break

swimming in thought
see
I went through a lot
Where was a car when you needed one
just lines lined up like
Floors and floors or revolution
Where colors clash grey areas
Like a poem,
The colored clouds in my throat
Form the nooses around my vocal chord
I went green dying to speak so
I poked a hole in it with a pen to let our the pent up lot
Slouching to bend characters
I was
Penning out poems from my throat
I hold back words of works with my tongue
Bodies
Drown
Lines and lines of waste in waves
Breaking

I look different
Wearing a jacket made of self awareness
Its easier to see the same set of actions
Could destroy inner harmony
Art has been reduced to dry humping
And pick up lines
I write off instead of quick get offs
Blue balls point pen
If all you have is quotes
How many stories tall do you stand?

I have this
lot penned up insight
fuck you and yours and yours and you pen
now have me penning
in exile around isles of condiments
your with the warfare in isles of condominiums
isla never
where you crash into me with
sure yet never follow tied
tongues and tungsten lights
lit my rage
i refuse to let myself stand
for you to push my image
make my history fabric
i stand a man as any other
not through monuments of cloth
or stone or image
i stand a man not through dates
or personage i stand
for someone, my self
whereas you stand for something via someone else.

the man with the bullet tongue
Poisoning your fantasies
It is understandable how you can sit in
Protest a pro con fissional
I must say you have my BLANK as a sparrow
Between the palm of a jet engine
And once you ruffle my feathers know
I will take you down
You can still count on me
Revenge is a narrative of my life in which
I asked micheal bay to help direct
We had a bond like james
Im guessing the market fell through the street
Blue
But then again it doesn’t matter to you
And your opinion doesn’t matter much
To anyone so its equal

i woke my neighbor one night
bleeding thunder
the consolation for parting skin of penned poems
at least the way my cells will celebrate it
is a retaliation of thunder
a roaring remark to harsh accusations
leaving no statement or inquiry alike
room to debate honor or intention
i plan to wake you too
never to heal myself for this thunder
rolls on a wave of tongues
as far as the mind can see
drowning in revenge

you tampered with the cover of the see
breaking winds every so often
with a gasp
like film on teeth i brush past you
and with
the stare of a lawyer the focus of a madman
just when I get up for air
Something is pulling me back
Noose


CLI CHE GUEVARA

Condense
Sation
with a mouth for eyes
Watering
She has
Hardly been outside herself for days
Yester nights sunset wore away
Like clothes
Curling into the air feebleminded
Controlled by winds that win
She was panning plans
Note, booked, I Rachel McAdams
Sunrise sunrise
Tearing into you as a silent moment
Disturbed as if a pretzels crunch
I glance on the line, sky
Swallowed her
As she tears into you
Like a silent moment
Change always had the lower hand
To a fate faked
I see her in puddles now
Two of a
This kind of thing
Happens
Once every
Never
She was not going to right you
A inner war of words
As blank lions line up on pages
Backed up for miles of songs
And sonnets and essays
And she said this is too much of a
Wait
Here comes the curb
Pursuing as if a “register to vote yet?” person:
It breaks
As hearts do
in to conversations
in two
concentrations
one focus is shouldered into the curb
who is to say
which direction is up
yours
maybe
this decision was a mistake
probably don’t care what life she had to
take
thieves of pursuit snatching abstract
ideals
of time
instead of object
ifying you
the difference is second to
thought
passing by between scrapes
of knees and skies
reflections in and of themselves
point to liberty
then again
maybe this decision was a
liberation
cli che Guerra

You are
Just not enough skin to take cover under
Everything is to be razed
Lobe to lobe
In a savage combination of tooth and flesh

the final shot
of sky
turns the throat
as a sigh combines with a
she rolls
she sighs(ed), up the situations sometimes
Time
Is absent in the ascent
Things are different, like an accent
Cli che Guevara


MIND IS HELL OF A DRUG

hears to high treason and a sentence about prison

I was writing a paper in FML citations
Of others words because it takes one
What a steal
Two books and three pens ago
Two friends and three days ago I was just
Producing bodies of work
Pygmailiaon-esque is sculptures of words that
Vultures pry to pick at
Trying these sentences in open court
Guilty till proven inspiration
-Al, all you know is what I tell you like a poem
So on and so on I go like soon
we all die in a succession of selves,
As if from a time when man made clocks,
to where clocks make men
you are not who you were a minute ago

i am not on the same level like story
tell me a tell all
draped up self pity and awareness
choking on vomit upstairs
where are your friends to bail you out
of yourself
in a house you built out of your fathers remains
to remain in his thought forever
what a waste of history your endorphins have become
pay the top bill some mind
veto
i will forbid god in the race of saving you
the price on your head i have tagged
while searching files of destructive instructions
i will get to you before the devil will
I’ll give you three Mississippi’s before I draw
now dream

my life will be the death of me
as theirs were
our rotting bodies form parties of political thought
poetry
that’s why
I don’t write poems with words or sounds
Its just a bunch of obscene gestures with my tongue
I know my destination

with mortar speech I feel late on the metaphor
it hits you just the same
imprisoned
We all die in the end
Ruined or not

The mind is a hell of a drug