Damn!!

I remember being in Florida while waiting to move along

Because it seems I am always moving these days

Turning on some poetry videos where a big bearded man talks about dreams and bullies and a violin played by a pretty girl sets the scene and his poetry deep and shallow at the same time

An amazing thing he has done but it still is not for me

He talks on past events and past and past

I sit here now in present of wakeful mind

Knowing poetry cannot be of what was but what is and what is…is life where party goers smoking filling the room and scream and rejoice and I am there in the middle setting a toast for life and the living

Finding truth in a roach in my hand and the pile of them along with empty beers

Knowing the music playing with a beautiful woman on me kissing

 Hidden on the side of her house

Is where I want to be

Even her heartbreak on me is where I want to be

I want to be lost when the rest are found

So I will write for days in the dark nothingness

Even my sorrow can fill the pages black

Instead of common bright colors dragged across the page

I will be different still and people will look at me and stare

Saying how strange a man he is …Damn!!

Poof

Poof

I started out west and hopped on this gigantic bird of the sky

Jumping from airport to airport listening to music and writing what I could

While sound erupts not a damn thing into me that I don’t want

I fly high and high I fly

To Austin where liberals die young and imbeciles live long

Sex driven 16 year olds in a cow field drink beer one dollar each one

If it had stayed like this living for the debauchery of the night time

Might I stay for the night

Found not but judgment

For my steps

For my words

Hidden in a den of politeness

Where my thoughts true hath died departed from this world

No home for me

I pretend a lover will find me

Across mobile Alabama and Florida and back to Montgomery

Only once she did buried in sweat and anger letting sorry men beat me down

Beat down women and leisure times

Blonde and beautiful

A northern girl sits next to me and says hello and goodbye

Last and first her wet lips pressed on me

Tonight a night set apart in memory his knit pickings do not follow me but slip off shoulders to the dirt at my feet

In the land where free thought is shot at with shotguns and bow and arrows

I pack up my things and follow the stars light

This adventure cut short

No longer will my hands and mouth shoot out a nerve of annoyance and arrogance

 A remnant remains in my bed a dust bowl spells “get out while you can or die”

By Copenhagen cans and cotton fields picked clean and old racists with bullets in my stockings Christmas morning

I go now

I go west

I go north

I go I go I go

Like lanterns flame lit light

Poof…I am out

A song to a restless heart

To thine own self be true and wary of the rest of the rodents who leave their excrement brown mush and on the ground

These rodents are ugly with arrogance and experience

Longest living creatures who think they of superior knowledge

For their way is all knowing and powerful that of a God

Hooting and hollering a screech that causes blood to drip down from derivation of pernition in my mind exuded from their sound boxes

Propaganda is pushed and shoveled out and down my mouth

For intelligence is whimsical child-like thing they only believe to be true rooted in their own minds as it is not in mine or ours

I abhor rodents they stink a putrid odor and cause slumber to call me into its cold deathbed as I lie bundled up in knots from their pestilence

The only peace I have found throughout their presence of mine since laughter and joy hath died a thousand times so have I

In the midst of the night do I find solace in nothingness and lack of anything resembling sound

When the rodents sleep only then can I be still

When only is their pitter patter of footsteps cease and caged noises leave me be and with shut mouths is there an odorless scent to the air

Does peace call my name like a song to a restless heart 

Night headphones

I will plug in my headphones

To bury sound in my ear and at nights peak

Unplug them from each audible crevice to have echoes ring around each eat

No cries for why not this

No chants for quicker that

An echo of silence peace trickles down my spine to my waist out to ach arm and down it goes

Then thoughts are the music in my ears playing drums loudly

An orchestra of instruments presents their arrival

I cry in their sounding off one by one

Even while rage fills my mind with pain and sadness

I rejoice

I cry when I dream of future love

When she waits for me at terminal c when I shall return to her embrace

I scream with laughter and smile with endless happiness

I cry for weed’s ecstasy altered consciousness and the flutter of this pen

I howl

Yet my headphones are still in and the babies are crying for more of this and more of that

Why so slow and not so fast

Elmore country jail

I was sitting around in Alabama one morning resting my ass on the cold cloth mattress in Elmore county jail for crimes uncommitted

I shall repeat each offense so the warden yells and bellows at me until grey hairs stem from his scalp and face

Arriving with the silence of my replies to his belly aching at me for the things I wear

The way my feet drag across the floor

The words I speak and I speak them well and indifferent to his opposition

I do not falter nor care to which he does not fancy

I felt freedom in his departure leaving me with the darkness of the night

I have things to do in this isolation when the moon comes on for his shift at the jail

Cold and merciless

Arrogant and ugly

I have inspiration to write and words to feel and it will take all night and my solitude to do so

A failed revolution

I once tried to start a revolution with words

Now I underline the word “tried” because I failed to do so

Not from lack of conviction on my behalf

The will of my compatriots did not beholden to one another a type of civil disobedience

Instead they held a strong commitment to obedience and God forbid them to go outside the laws, where the revolutionaries eat and drink with alcoholics, junkies, and heathens

My word rebellion did not hold only poets responsible for its propagation

Artists, free thinkers, homeless outsiders, and all who were told that in order to grow up, you must do this and do that

Yet my revolt did not make it past such early steps

My liberty comrades were committed as a con man is to a wallet as they were to the cause

Collegiate acceptance through the eyes of society and peers took their mind against mine and chewed into a ball of mush

Then they were no longer individuals

They were a part of the herd

The blind mass collective of beating hearts, breathing, mobile storage apparatuses

Such that in order to live happy, one must be that of lawful accepted granted passage into a world that laughs at you while they quarters and dimes, nickels and pennies are thrown to the ground and it is called minimum wage

They peddle information that tells how adults look

How adults style their hair

How adults walk

How this, that, and the other are done

That is called conformity and the next thing to come…is death

The next rebellion

We adjourn here to be the voices of the next rebellion

Poets

Artists

Lovers

Too much for your peers

Not here we mad crazed lunatics stand laughing at the moonlight

Seeing her true beauty

Truth naked exposed forever and unrelenting

The devil revealed to us never able to escape my view again

Tattered with the markings of conformity

Where we see imperfections

We find strength

Those unseen are seen by us

Invisible to their familiars

Who call upon them to be their orchestrator

Of their selfish dreams laid to rest by their surrender

Not us

We stand impervious to concede to the ways of our oppressors

Thinking of what will be

Leads to death

We rebels are here for the now

Bound by radical thoughts and past misery

We are one

Choose

Believe in this Young apple seeds

I have seen the tree grow from your small small beginnings

He will grow tall and strong

If he so chooses

He will grow short and weak

If he so chooses

Young ones

Lost ones

Mad ones

Men and women of the pen

Expression shall be your vehicle for self discovery

Where you shall pass through the near by towns and cities of your far gone mind

Love may come

Death may stay

Sorrow may stalk you

Depression and demise may greet you at the corners of your 9 to 5

I say to all of you

All of this could be yours if you so choose

Manic hamsters

My mind runs rampant through mania ridden hamsters running mad around and around

Raving lunatics scream at me to say hello

I ignore their pull to me

The truth they seek

I believe

Blinded by arrogance and insecurity

Allowing their access to my mind

Thrashing and shredding through the female guilty bystander in my cognitive life

A moment of self doubt to define me in time without pace

I must explain to her why I am the temporary mad men laughing in crazed howling to the moon

Time

Ticks and tocks

Clicks on the clock

The ensuing pressure tightening around my neck

Closer

Closer I come to extinction

Through the intensity of my soul

Possibility and chance to drive them out and far away

My wish to keep her near

Leaves alone in the wind

Never more

How cursed my mind works and operates in webs of beautiful tears

I clasped my hands together in peaceful patience

Only to rip them from each other shredding through time

Stars and electricity tracing back to a lovers handshake

A tear hath fall

Confusion infused air intoxicate my nostrils with pine of the merry believers of Decembers end

As I feel my finger tips through thick hair

Nightmares of her hands through my hair

Nights of her body to mine I feel her heart beat with mine

Terrorized me with joyful thoughts of temptation

A tear hath fall

Down the rabbits hole I fall

Away from her I go

Until she is

Never more

Beautiful chaos

I bang and clash in my mind

With the mad man yelling in a padded room

Only can I hear the screeches of love he bellows in wild quickness

Breaking down the walls of my sanity

Into restless feet to move without rest

To move with endless risk

Where they take me

A place where fear and adrenaline and destruction and love

Lie in beautiful chaos

Old writers

To the great writers of my soul

I write to you in doubt

I write to you searching

Burning for the inspiration you had

The experiences that spewed the most beautiful words from your mind

To have seen dean

To have heard cassady

The wild rumblings of mad men with the fruits of their insanity on their tongue

The crazed monologues running through your head

I am engulfed in a magical mystery

Where the villain is the nightmare of my incomplete ambitions

Lost dreams in my subconscious

Lost to the black hole of contemporary society

Suits and ties chasing me into the depths of my conformity

Cornering me in an alley surrounded by the nay-sayers

Who tell me to stop

Who reek of the dreams they laid to rest

I write to you for the hopes of wild fiery experience

I write to you in fear of missed chances to dance with her in endless time

I write to you because I burn for the page

The pages that are the autobiography of my soul

Sincerely the mAd PoEt

Little ones

Little one you must see

Watch from a top your imagined castle

Peering out amongst the subjects of your deceitful mind

Watching the pointy edge of the street

How you get pulled in by the sultry smells lofting in the room

 of freedom

Leaves the syringes to the goners

Crush them in powerful crunch

Your mind….boy

Is the tool in your back pocket

The dead will be strong and the living will be the mad scientists

They will run the world in your existence or your absence

Little ones drop that terrible monkey off your back and be free

All I know

All I know

I know not of their walk and posture

I know not their syntax and diction

These beasts of man

Who starve all for their one fish

Gluttonous greedy things

One arrow to one place

Their minds go

The know nothing of color just variant shades of grey

They know wealth

When I know poverty

They know warmth

When I know cold

They know happiness

When all I know is sorrow and woe

Quick...Hurry

Psychedelic dreams in a crowded room alone I sit and wait for the king to come to me

My dreams tattered in random chaos

Hysterical madness with the laughter of my dead heroes

The crazed rantings of the addict to me as I watch him drift into insanity

What could have been before in wild quickness

The life of the homeless addict

The steps

Inebriation pushing me through to the other side

Where lust and infatuation sit with the most marvelous light

Spheres of magic cohabitate in my eyes

Thrusts of magical sensuality implode to birth vibrant colors from my mind

To leave my intoxication of new consciousness running fast and uninhibited

Towards the forbidden

Uncertainty to lead me to the serenity of the road

Who call out to me

With the voices of my soul

Let the voices of dead poets

Guide your foot to love or loss

To pain or happiness

For these are the steps I must take on the road

the belly of the beast

Oh fast ones

The crazed wheels turning

Setting you a fire

Burning through your mind

Days speed by like the wild horses chasing the day

Cherish this day

Mad ones

The ones who never say dull word in their days

Burning for spontaneity and uncertainty

Cold days of routines

Stifle the creativity of my mind

So I burn burn burn

For wild days filled with treacherous thoughts

Of the road

Oh how she beckons me

Sweet whispers in my ears

Pulling me to her

For these chains keep me here in the belly of the beast once more

Beautiful

My loneliness traps me in

A prison of sadness and sorrow

My spirit runs cold with each dying day

I sit in my room where pot smoke and slow music beats to my soul

Where it cannot run free

My soul sits chained to the walls of my mind

Begging to be set free once again

Screaming shaking chains violently

Yelling to freedom from its captors

This splendid sorrow I am in

Fuels my creativity

To spew the most beautiful words from my mind

flowers

I am the mad mad sick poet who chose the ways of darkness and sorrow for strength in my words

The waking from the storm reveals the debris of all my torutured days

Where monsoon of water crashed through store windows uprooting trees from the wild spinning tornados that shred the humanity without regard

I am the sad silly romantic loving the way she walks

With bright sunshines that pull me into to paradise with watchful eyes upon me

I walk through with the meadows and gardens with her hand in mine

Slowly we I am pulled into the terrible gravitational force that is love

Pulling me in so tight with each kiss

With each caress

I feel her on me

I do not wish for money drugs food air

I wish for her

In my arms

I am the crazed lover poet with stories to tell of love and loss

Breaking down the walls of my depression with bright

Orange yellow pink purple flowers

deceased mad poets of old

Oh these walls feel so familiar

That door in my memories somewhere distant

This place oh so familiar

The place where men that love get trapped

Imprisoned in the friendship they once had

I cannot do this anymore

Sitting in the lobby of your heart

Frustrates me while others venture onward

I wait for you to see the look I give you

Hoping you remove the blinds from your watchful eye

To see me

Look at me

I yell with fury and passion

Tears falling from my eye

As my screams fall upon deaf ears

I descend into the shadows of your heart

Only to remember the love I had for you

The love that is deceased like the mad poets of old

be free where love is the currency and i am the richest of men

Oh lost ones come to me

Oh mad ones join me

Oh sorrow kings adjourn in the court of life

Come with me to the open fields where free men and women love

Where happiness fills the world with crying babies

Kissing lovers

Laughing

Smiles fill me with a feeling no one can touch

Ecstasy in my eyes

Sees the beautiful red roses

In the hands of young romancers

Prancing in the meadow hand in hand with no fear of angry spirits

Let your mind be free with merry picture frames of smiling memories

Be free where love is the currency and I am the richest man

Oh to my surprise

Oh look in your eyes green as grass

Oh look at your hair so dark and endless

Like the love I instantly feel for you

I could look into your eyes all day

Awake from this dream you see in front of you

She is not a reality

But a figment of your imagination in the nights of old

Days speed by like cars on the highway

I cannot stop thinking about my green eyed monster of my heart

Scratching at the surface sets my chest a blaze

Where could you be

Night approaches as it should with the sadness of lonliness

Oh phone blank as can be

Oh wait

A friend offering solitude for a night of intoxication

Upon my arrival beers are drank my goal of blackness is closing in

Oh my to my surprise she stands infront of me my green eyed monster

backwards time travel

It was never a place I could fit into

A place where tongues held is a common ailment

A miracle their mouths make sounds at all

From semantic and phoneme creations

There was a language never before seen to my eyes and unlearned I am joyful for

Mannerurisms of hidden desires lie in old wooden chests buried on the pan handle

Where no sea faring men dare

Money guppies grew on the trees with the illusion of sweat on the brow in an air conditioned plush chair where kings counted money out for the serfs

Wealthy asses that sat upon the tears of children who died as they starved around the food seen and smelt

This land I could never stay in

A golden palace I am stuck in nor do I belong in

A land backwards in time

poetry to prose

As dreams fall on to my weary eyes

Before closed mind for the day at 9:33pm

Restoring what tolerance and patience is left teetering on the precipice

A battle wages on inside my soul spirit

Behind the laughing and pretend stupidity for others to giggle and chuckle with others

A book half way closed

Lines without periods in a sentence

Unstrung together loosely coming to me in times of contemplation

The revolutionary rebel resistant to what around says to be

The air is thick here in Alabama with yes sir’s and yes ma’am’s

Redundant politeness of a fighting to be as a child perceives

The meaning of worth as exhausting as lifting 200lb clams out of the sea

Pushing cars up hill

The Buddha with live and let lives

He does not say a word except that of being left alone with the birds and the trees

Silent peace unheard in days

The counting never stops

By seconds and smaller

Frame by frame waiting starts and never ceases

This battle wages with one constant the wrestles with the men and eases their rage to a standstill

Poetry to prose as a bullet is to a gun

The only one weapon a word can tell the story for men to know what it means to be such

The mad poet unsilenced by money

The will to be…unchanged upon the peddler of things to those who seek it out with golden pocket watches and no value on their riches

The battle wages and wages around a fire the story teller lyrics his way through the blood and guts only as a mad poet can

Gone so long

Been gone so long

I don’t know what it’s like to be able to be anything else but free

Been lying so long

I don’t know what is be like to be able to be honest

Been doing different voices all day long

Tomorrow I’ll forget my own

Been blue so long

Happiness is a friend I don’t remember the face of

Been alone so long now

Each kiss is new and a pair

I would not know what to do

I wouldn’t know another way to live but with a new lover

In Pensacola

Austin

Houston

Mobile

Destin

Panama City and all the others

A unique face and mind each strangers will never seen again

Been on this running track going around and around

Don’t know what it be like to be still

Bright darkness

Oh how anger fills my veins like a poison exuding a putrid odor

Secreted through my skin in a slimy deterrent of beauty and that of one and others

A cycle repeating one and another

From my rebellious spirit a fighting barking dog that pulls on its chain

Unrelenting until it breaks with the awakening sun

Exhaustion and fatigue carry my bones to the bottom of the ocean

Sleeping with the sharks tonight

For they are out for blood tonight

When the smile of some rich beauty from a land

Where rage, sorrow, and pain do not exist

She only knew joy as she smiles

By some luck I stole from a dying a man

She has a fondness for me

Warming my heart to a burning

I can only smile in return

As her fingertips lightly press on my heavy body

An unliftable weight has descended off my back and down to the bottom

As I ascend to the bright lights, that have always been shining on the removal of grey cloud

Do I see her brighten up the darkness

you and no one else

How did you change rebellion?

The failure of triumph

To the bellowing of echoes that success would be driven from

If conformity did not have answers to its calls from ease in life

To friction

Grinding and your wheels

The drive on the road may be smooth without bumps in the wake to logical choices made

Conservation in life to the dying dream, now dust, that once was rare when the gladiators fought tigers

The audience roared as it did

Chanting for death, not mercy for the slave

How the mob was the city, and death would come with the useless coward’s life

In your transformation to adulthood

Stopping to passion

Stopping to love

Stopping to uniqueness

Was the man who lived dead in his deathbed at the end of revolt

How he looked normal to the droves?

In suit and tie

In tome with the music played

Where the road rode hard and true

They wrote loud unabashed of offenses made

They lover pure and endless

Awoken by it each morning in bed with the ecstasy in her screams

As passion lined your veins full

You who resistant to change stayed you and no one else

Funny pretend hipster kids

All these hipster kids in their black sunglasses and wool knit caps

Make me laugh, if only they knew what it meant to be a hipster

Like Ginsberg or Kerouac

Who defied the laws gravity set before them and I

Floating above the ground

They knew what it meant to be in society thinking on the outside looking outside further still

Sexing

Drugging

Boozing with beautiful lawless girls

Unapologetic to old father time clocks

Who look down their glasses at me and them

They youth which they never knew

When their skin was tight like the rope

The courageous few who trapse across balancing life and death with a stick

The ones who spoke their minds on government, god, and guns only a brave selected and knew what it meant to be a hipster

Titles given to them as they were living unaware of semantic terminlology synomous with free

Burners with numbering a hand or two

Feeling the humidity in florida and turning it up

These kids riding bikes and wearing chucks and painting fruit

It is funny how they thing themselves to be hipsters where purple and blue

Passion and sorrow isn’t cool like it used to

8ft tall and invincible

In the chill wind on the coast in marie anna island

A grand tale was written

Still pursuing dangerous ends when I am 8 feet tall and invincible

Yet the lips on mine where her beach blonde hair draped over me

 A weakness cripples me to knees

In the blink of an eye

She took me to a place not fit for a road traveler

I did not wish her to grab my hand and walk me there in slow footsteps dragging in the sand

We walked down the cold sand at midnight with the flashlight of the moon

Eyes peered on us as the grains caught between our toes slowed us to a stop

Chills crept down my skin as she lay on top of me

Her cheek on mine

Silent conversation with minds and wind and music and laughter

Matched the beating I felt on my chest

As her lips pressed on mine a nightmare struck me

Waking me from this wondrous slumbering sleep

Where dreams are not that which they appear and what is as it appears is not which it says true

Art is the revolt of the free

Art was the revolt of the free

Who ran naked and liberated down the streets as the air ran through the knees up out through their butts, ears, and mouth

The street lights blew shattered underneath the screams when they blasted the sleeping zombies tucked tightly in their sheets

They were the ones who said their freedom drew them to the fire like moths to the inescapable flame

Ignited by open spaces and horses that stomped in the wet dirt with wild quickness

Huffing and puffing through their nostrils they smelt the crisp cold air as their former selves were visible to them in the breaths they once drew

Rain began to drop on them then pour then monsooned sweeping them away uncontrollably to a plain not many see in the end of their time

To where tress covered them from the beating heart so fast of modernity that pulls you in

A black hole never sucked so hard as this retched beast of innovation

No grass was so soft like fur from pelts taken from the roamers who once placed their heads where mine and my brothers and sisters laid down

No scene was ever so free

Devin from boston

We approached each other in the breeze of the night and cigarette smoke

Condensation on our beers staring

Gazing in opposite directions

Then turned at a dozen paces

For love is a duel

Kindred spirits met once

Words transferred in air

Stories told

Loneliness spoken of

With unrelenting fearlessness

Time passed by with the speed of sound

As the tide came in and out a hypnotic drawing on time without notice

The night struck to an end

With a goodbye kiss we touched each other for the first and last time

A haunting she left imprinted on me

By the wetness of her lips

The touch of her fingertips

Two strangers parted for time unknown

Where and when we would meet again a mystery no author could foreshadow 

Stop

Never force things in life

Write as it is natural to speak

Sing a song as a bird does

If it does not come with ease of each breath pumped in and out of your lungs

Do not do it

Love as if your lover has never been lying naked in your bed under a sheet of the city lights sparkling dim

See all that you can with the eyes of a child without care

Nor judgment

If it does not come easy do not do it

Life is for the living

If fear guide your hand

Your heart

Your feet

Then live in a box surrounding you and never leave

Be a corpse buried beneath the trees

If you live beyond existing

You shall feel the heat of the sun underneath your skin burning you up inside and out

Just as natural as nudity was the suit you were born in

Travel well and experience people

Watch their beauty and believe in love

If love hath not guide your soul

Then disappear with the wind as the sands of time take away piece and piece of you

While the passion dragging me through the pan handle never stops

If this does not come easy to you

Go with the trends and fads

Stand with the masses and survive with the decadence of innovation and collective drones pumped out of the factories and machines

Do not scream

Speak silent as the loquacious do

Unless you are loud

Merely stop 

one sided glass

I inquire a query to you

Some only know to be true

Have you ever seen something that made you sing, scream, or think?

If not, your skin must be pale and cold like the lawns white in winter with the temperatures

Putting men and women without homes to that endless sleep

A lifeless corpse are feet buried after another and another on a string

That is what passion makes you feel

A song a choir sings with angels bellowing its voice to the heat underneath my skin

A word to make you think of freedom and love as did those under death’s threat as did romeo and Juliet and the liberty bearers of the sea

Make a mad man scream as he is howling to the moon to feel her touch once more as her steps fade in the sand when she left him while the stars still bounced off her skin

Irrelevant to war and government and poverty

Was her and only her a tale told of their love battle

A war that waged and caused screams with chills down his spine

All he heard were the screams inside his brain that left him wondering

Pondering what went to the side

A song

A story

A word that showed the one sided glass that an audience may see through

A sliver of his mind

That was a one percent of his lunacy

Only lover’s fight

Sorcerer's brew

Everyone wishing they had the next cool thing

When all I need is a pen and a page of my skin just put down for all to see

Ill create a world only some think in their mind with a song in the back playing so loud they cannot think of another thing

It doesn’t dance across the screen

Small or silver or big

It does not cost a penny out of the things who save for and put in a bank for the future never told just one idea

A magnificent mobile floating above my head spinning so fast I could not move

Imaginative concoctions brewed in the kitchen

Upon minds to explore their taste buds would take them on a journey of freedom and love all in once

They could not see real

Dripping ink from my feathered pen back in 1794 where things just began and it still is full in 2013

A story tellers illogical tales drape across my skin like tattoos each with some new tale to tell

Only if you knew how I bled with each done

I grinded my teeth in pain

It would be some sob story you could tell your friends

Thank your gods high up in heaven you do not know the sorcerer’s recipe for his brew

Real Poets

People have this misconception on poets and poetry

That sensitive men and crying girls with suicidal tendencies write poetry

It is for pussies and lady boys

If they met a real poet they would know what poetry really is

It is the best word that can describe the most loud and silent beatings of the heart

A love torn girl crying on the pavement

An angry boy

Mad at the world for what it has done to him

For all the stupidity laid upon the tongues of the mob outside his door for be different and unlike the rest

The girl has loved everything that she does a passion unbelieved

Both bleeding red on a grave trail in the woods leading

Circling around each other until they would meet

Love that would cool his fiery heart with her passionate affections would one day be true

If they wrote of their woe and joy

Poetry would then be tales of giants and queens who would never believe a day like this could be real

Only to wake in a world apart where one day they would be one

With a fiery heart and passionate love that no water could defeat