Go!

Come on down boys and girls

Come down to slick slack billies

Listen to the liberated sing their tunes that stand to rebel

Defy

Oppose

The status quo

Drink

Fuck

Sleep

And again

Live on the seeds of debauchery and free will

This thing of youth

Born alone and stupid

Walking on abandoned roads of yester year

Where men hath not laid his hands of exploitation to the land

Thumbing all the way down to Mexico

To be seduced and loved by the hands of beautiful native women

Then to cuba with Paola to fight with che guevera

Then to Italy to see feeling evoked from canvas and colors

Just go boy

Go boy go

Boy go go

Go

Barking wildly at the moon

In the end of the tunnel lies a light

That’s bright and alluring

Pulling

Unrestrained

Sucked in

Absorbed by the city

Where the night has come

Freeing my mind

Free of… of

All that stuff

Petty bickering of children

Do not interest me

Cuz I am interested in the mad ones

Who never say no but who are

Uncensored

Unfiltered

Barking wildly at the moon

Assassins

Assassins in the shadows come for me

Just a day ago

Scathed  

Bloodied  

I was

Now my hands clean as I am sure nun’s hands must be

Freedom Lurks

There are some things men never get like Love, fulfillment, riches, and the list goes until my deathbed.  These days the sun doesn’t feel quite as warm.  The wind is especially cold today.  The people across from me, a blur to me of what they must be saying.  I don’t even remember her name.  It must have been Jane, on account of the amount of Mary Jane I had seen.  I want so badly to connect in a flurry of electricity between our fingertips.  A crazy travelling girl, with who has no rhyme or reason for which she does anything.  Nothing becomes of it and others come and go. The lot of them bore me to red rivers up my arm, to nooses hanging on ceiling fans in suburbia, and to bottles of pills and empty liquor bottles.  I mostly sit surrounded by these four walls like a padded room that was locked on the inside.  All that I ever see anymore are the reason why nothing changes.  Why and more to what the hell I am doing.  I cannot justify any of it.  As I lie here wondering what it is I am thinking going back to school.  A wretched place that is.  Old and young easily non-respectable sell outs trying to convince me memorization equates to intelligence.  There is a reason I left with no intent of return.  I just had to get on that old road, didn’t I? That is where freedom lurks…right? The idealist still barely breathing on empty canisters of oxygen in the corner of my mind, who says that to me and I believe it.  

Rainbows of color

When lady poetry calls to you

Do not ignore her but embrace her touch and let it flow through you and what is left

Is on the page

You and she may only dance once but it will stop time and be glorious as your heart is melded to paper and stone

Echoing in time and hearts reflected

For she is quiet beautiful and a poet cannot deny her

To do so would be to deny one self

Experience

Love

Life

From which is put to the focus of a mirror and what I see is magnificent

As my pen dances across the page with I see plentiful rainbows of color once more

Always true

Younger and younger as they were

How love grabbed them young

Held tight by the new marks they possessed and status together

Apologies to the young on each slap

As juveniles we know not what we do

The torment to each other

Blood spilled and lips kissed

Hips hugged screams felt as the young lovers sat there in the dark and silence passed by

Just before they sat there in the dark making sounds only they could create

Before they were there when they first heard their hearts beating faster than butterflies ever could

They were just young boys and girls in love

Sparkling Christmas trees

I don’t have vindictive habits in my heart because all I want is for happiness to spread throughout the land like pretty ornaments on the Christmas tree sparkling brightly among the darkness 

My road travels part 1

I remember thinking one day I would go out west, but I was west and so I went east and then south.  I missed the vagabonding with my thumb ajar and going poor and cold.  Instead I hopped on this big fucking rocket ship out east to Texas to meet the warden in a cow field, except at this time he was not the warden, merely a keeper.  The keeper and I drove on the Texas back roads away from civilization into the dirt where I lost cell phone reception the further we went east.  As we went deep into the Bible belt dustbowl, I told of my wild ways previously and he knew of them and that I was proudly a stoner from Oregon just as he was with my father.  Reminiscing on months back where I filed my apartment with pot smoke and laughing and being merry.  Talking of my dealer escapades on the farm growing and he saw the correlation of blood with whom we were kindred spirits.  I say this with the naivety that someone could be a kindred spirit of mine, especially because he turned out to be the warden.  We shared troubles of law and women, he spoke of his criminality and how he became so tamed.  I swore in my mind I would never be like him, so quickly to take the poison of domestication.  We drove further still through Texas into the wilderness where the darkness makes us all alike.  In the darkness everything seems quieter especially as I nodded off in the passenger seat of this beat up old van dragging us across the country with a ticking time bomb strapped underneath us, bound to go off at any moment. In the inside the upholstery had been ripped and chewed on and the dashboard filled with the garbage that soon I would call home decor.  The back of the van filled to the wall with old sea faring objects of obsession, including 4 clams that were very heavy and I hated with all my heart.  The van bottomed out on every hole in the ground as we went moved along, I wondered if we would make it.....

So long ago it seems

I want to try something of a kind, experiment, where I write and in a very truthful ways.  I was just thinking on life and how much I loved it.  All the feelings I have felt and it brought me to a place, where I am the happiness I can remember.  It was when I met this adorable little girl that had these little hands that were so strong they could hold a man so tight forever and he would never let go.  I just remember looking at her on the rooftop when we first met and thinking how cute she was and she looked back at me and blushed and held my hardened hands with hers, soft as angel wings hers were and I loved it.  We sat on the rooftop that night and held each other to keep warm, but there was something more as I was caught staring at her.  She did the same to me and all I wanted to do was kiss her and so I did and held her tight all night.  Drunk and stoned fading into the night with this little stoner girl.  I spent the next 30 days or so in her bed and her in mine.  I would see her from afar and think of how supple her little lips were and how she clenched me in each kiss.  She was so small yet she held me so tight and I could not escape from her love and I got caught in the middle of fun and love, and then sprinted into it.  The only way through the storm, is through it.   She and I ran so fast every night.  The stillest we were, was in bed naked and glued to one another until time would no longer allow us such lover’s freedoms.  I just remember her voice in the morning and face, how she looked at me, I was the luckiest man to have had 30 days with her in my bed, doing what lover’s do.  

Bruises

It comes when it doesn’t and it leaves when it does

Repeat cycle and catch the middle in between

Time still with the breeze but scribbles and ink

Then breath and time begins again

Whether love

Sorrow

Pain

Joy

Freedom

Oppression

Black will my bruises imprint on the parchment

Smile pans across my face

It is 10:30pm and the party people have shown up in their pretend attire and shield with gifts as token for entrance.  In the corner a mean looking girl who scares me like no other, I’d rather not mention, is chatting up a fun guy with a fedora and a poodle who does not want the pen behind the ink of her words.  Unrequited, she is persistent.  Later she justifies his refutation of her requests on to him for her bed to share, due to his bachelor status.  Strangers plotted around the room leaning on pine cabinets in a log cabin out where the reception runs still, talk to each other with no comprehension.  I escape to the loft no longer do I wish to be an apt observer to their childish ramblings and actions.  In the silent cold air I breathe in solitary confinement, I am glad to endure upon tonight’s shivering temperatures.  The still talk in the air out here quells the headache I have had all night due to the withdrawal of one of my many horrible addictions.  The morning comes and I am blue from the tundra but a smile made, pans across my face.

Grim rhyme

There is a grim rhyme prancing around me

There is a grim rhyme prancing around me

There is a grim rhyme prancing around me

As if I am in a circus

Enclosed in a tent outside of reality

On a different plane

Floating in purgatory

No feelings of energy bouncing off creating lightness from darkness

Just numbness from this to that

Things or people

Never mind ‘em’

A giant hand gone to pause the whole darn thing and put me on this track without

Sense

Logic

Rationale

Just a cloud of strangeness and obscurity hovers above

Dropping droplets of bewilderment and confusion

For going forwards backwards on this train