Untitled

this is for the bright and the old
for the beautiful
for the bold
for the strong and the courageous
for the murderers
for the dangerous
for the imprisoned and the annoyer
for the doctor
for the lawyer
for the pimp and the hoe
for the mate
for the bo
this is for the rapist and the theif
for the commander
for the chief
for the dealer and the user
for the drugs
for the abuser
for the innocent and the guilty
for the clensed
for the filthy
for the slave and the farmer
for the sword
for the armor
this is for the sadness and te grief
for the tears
for the disbelief
for the whips and the chains
for the bullets
for the gangs
for the user and the cheater
for the woman
for the beater
for tomorrow
for today
forever
for yesterday
this is for you
for me
for life
for the key

One generation plants the trees; another gets the shade -Chinese Proverb

Too often we give our children answers to remember rather than problems to solve -Roger Lewin

love

it's nothing but a liquor store that tempts me
knowing my age is under the minimum it is willing to wage me
page onto my body
reconnect these invisible lines
so that i may cross cotton candy skies again
i'm hanging onto you like a crucifix medallions
like faith will hold this bloody mary's tears back from revenge

onda rag

i need another pad
my periods are too heavy

is there more to me than you

i trace life lines in the palms of my hands
running finger prints of forever up my skin
tattooing my veins with your kisses like heroine
you’re the sweetest high my third eye has ever seen

message for the dead

he sleeps with a bottle by his pillow
he stopped recognizing the difference
between awake and sleep
he awakes to blind chances
he sleeps in comas
suicide is two weeks in Paris
he lives dry with the sun
his body is just a helmet
so he doesn’t have to use his brain
or his heart
he might think the same if he could feel
i can only rage at my uncle’s helplessness
beautiful women
wait on their sofas and pray that he won’t marry them
oh the thrill of his compliancy
his face ringed with lines
his eyes subject to blackout
for he cannot see the world with his intelligence
he can only finger it out of lust
tempting imaginary rainstorms
trying to outwit water with his dissatisfaction
he is immortally naked
lingering forever
labored with stillborn daydreams
i never thought it was possible to sleep your life away
or find fulfillment with temporary deliverance
he brushes his teeth
in Budweiser’s mineral water
his mate
inseparable
he needs the sorrow she provides
it’s a faceless love
sometimes painless
most times expensive
always an addiction
and i cannot help but watch his body lose esteem
and watch gray bags cover his emotion
what a mysterious disease he medicates with his mineral water
colliding forever with death without conclusion
i want to love him
but i haven’t found the chance
for i am the most beautiful thing he has seen
and i have not changed a bit since 12
and i can’t help but wish to forget his voice
so I can surprise his intellect
when he wants me to recognize him on a phone
i want to hang up
he leaves his biographies lying around
and i find them in hopes of making sense of his fabrics
but it only takes up space
i don’t even know him
i just recognize his habits
his scent

his face
i wonder if he will ever take off his helmet to shower
the parts of him that are still recognizable
and pure
and awake
and dreaming

hollywood

hollywood
and she has never felt so fresh
personality for days
clothes like skin
available for any decade
clever as all get up
kids dressed up in their parent’s clothing
chest first
too eager to explain themselves
more interesting then the characters they play
supported by the same system
they stand in food lines for
hollywood
makes you want to jump off a plane
to afford reality
too much trust in poverty
holds them prisoners
like stage make-up
their lives dark as twilight
beautiful fingertips forgotten
rapist
you’re forgiven
dancer
sing with your feet
or leave them behind you
painter
stop crying on your canvas
hollywood
forget your day job
there’s an orchestra playing in the background
music never looked so yellow
so thick
safer than surgery
safer than God
unwashed
virginal
younger
stronger
persuasive
hollywood
listening to a radio
that does not exist
subject dead
but unburied
hollywood
i cannot remember the first time
i heard whispers
hollywood
i would smile beautifully
if i had a reason

print me

and i wonder how much
it will take until we realize
the best love we have
are only pictures
they are still life memories
lost in a fire
escaped by a flood
and i am crying the watercolors
for your new painting
even though your brush
has hardened
and it will take more than me to save you
to make you create me again
i am only the sole
on the bottom of your shoe, friend
i am only a footprint
forgotten in motion
and i don’t want to be buried this soon
tell me
what will it take for you to moisturize these wounds
how many cuts will it take
until my lines
are perfectly symmetrical
i wasn’t made to balance that well
on tight ropes without surface nets
but i can imagine it’s something else to please you
and you can imagine
i’m somebody else too
let’s play pretend
i just want you to print me
sketch your fingertips around my rhythm
i want to look like a song
your favorite vision
a Polaroid
i’m your best imagination
developed too soon
and i want you to think me
until i'm forever
i want to be the scripture to your canvas
blood
only you know what this feels like
to look at me
and know
that i’m unfinished
without your thoughts
and only when you breathe me in
will you be satisfied
for i am muse
and all you have to do
is search in your heart

and print me