Sand/grit

There would seem to be no other way

no better way

than that which we have encountered,

the gentle struggle for which we have already begun

in this room where my heart is pounding so hard

like a cat being chased by a dog
knowing; full-well i will be torn apart if they reach us 

in our defamed world that contains fatal consequence

filled with tenacity, that we mine from a hole

trying to fill the holes in ourselves and make the best

with every white-knuckle-night that we seem to surpass

the days drift off into a world that cannot last

I cannot agree

I cannot bow down

And cannot accept that this is my fate

I will not die here, in this shopping center

And I am glad I got away

I am glad to be released, from the grip of the ghetto

But this world does not admire the free

It only worships the enslaved

As they look into the various reflections of their vanity

and thoughtlessly admire themselves proud that they have endured another day in this incessant cookie-cutter bullshit

never have I ever seen a place with so many enforcers and a complete dearth of enforcement

and time casts a different lens

time makes all things real

I learned things about myself I never wanted to know, I fought a thing I never wanted to see

 it touches you, it can never be undone, it can never be unlearned

I have felt the rage

I have felt the hate

burned inside of us like the sound of a your roommate raping his girlfriend

like the domestic violence of your neighbors spilling into the street

guns drawn, in the flickering blue-and-red lights that send them into the depths of their realm

as animals fleeing into the jungle

I saw them; Somewhere between terror and opportunity their their crystal meth laced minds spinning in some great way, yet never making traction in this reality.

I fought them in the night, and fired at them to defend my property

and my livelihood

you get a taste for violence.

Like so many things. It becomes you.

It feels a lot like fractured ribs.

Yet it only ever hurts like a dying fire

that you have been forced to learn to wield.  

It is the ache that fills me with gratitude

The somberness of deciding what you’re willing to live without

Like Learning to feel without tears, because you cannot spare the water

fading into the night like some ardent desert creature 

confession

produced and manufactured
it leaves this place fractured

their words never seem to rise

in the way that i can call

to your mind through it all 

there is nothing left to be said 

and I'm sorry for the way 

these things have so much sway 

but we cannot go back 

there is so much left to know 

in the places i cannot go 

until this fades to black

but this is not quite done 

im not sure whats to be won

though I'm sure i can see

and all that i regret
is the life i cannot get
in a world where you're with me

as though i could have anything
in a life that i would bring
so much to your great heart

and i cannot undo
the way i feel for you
the dreams never seem to cease

but i hold my head up high
to the stars in the sky
and i dream that the day will come

in no uncertain way
i want to live, i want to play
with what we can grow to be

but you are so refracted
taken and distracted
for all that i want this to be

my heart seems to grow colder
as the years pass, i am older
but i know there will come a day

and i cannot express
what im afraid to confess
i just need to find a way

words

(i wheatpasted this to a  stop sign in silverlake)

Overwhelmingly committed
To the urge to not communicate
I grow tired of the disease
Where the faint smell of caramel
Gently seeps into everything
As though, growing venomous, day-by-day
Ever gets old.
 The wings that have held me up
are holding me back
where the thunder breaks the storm of my heart
in the reaches of those ancient places
where there is something beautiful and noble
in words

Lay

ease your thoughts into something else


Bring me the nothingness 


I hear deep within music

words 


Rend me upon your shores


Devour me in your grasp


Feed me with your light

dissect me

gnash me in the tide

So that I may yearn for more

Hold me

deep within your dreams

like a special stone

you keep in your memory

from a day long forgotten  

spent walking along the sand

as we bathe in salt and foam

shed your water for me

the thirst is unquenchable

let me drink you in

Consume me, ravenously

Defile me with your love 

against the vastness of the sea

arise from all this monotony

in the fire that I feel for you

Santa Monica Blvd.

And the sun burns high

Like a meteor and I,

Cannot know how this will end

The tears that never come

Leave this place so undone

And the dreams come to an end

But the weight of the day

In every strange way

Make you seem like we are friends

And I cannot express

The way that I confess

That I’m starting to reach amends

stack chips (SOC)

In a heaven that is not here

This dream becomes a consumptive reality

Like thirsty plants reaching skyward to drink in the light
As their humanity seeps out through the cracks
I love the people
But hate the crowd

Funny, sarcastic, loving and caring

they shuffle through the rivers of light,

frustrated with the mass they occupy

in a world of meaningful numbers and paper

we find solace in each other

as though stacking chips will grant us freedom from ourselves

the helicopters cut sky with a river of sound that never ceases

while below we huddle together under a cloud of dirty jokes that celebrate the absurdity of our being that penetrates everything around us

learning never to fear that which is out of your control

where fear is the mind-killer in a place where it is so important to keep your head

one more thing

They pour out in rivers of red

And white

the blood and bone of this entity

this endless operation of hustle

spurred into action through want

and need

as though desire granted absolution

like the thunderheads we all wish for

as we wait for the bus

can you not feel the power?

Can you not taste the rage

And the restlessness?

And under these burning skies

And concrete

Their hearts burst with a hunger that never knows reason

Their minds bloom with necessity

And all of it is casual and vain

And all of it is real.

As though some kind of cataclysm could be worse,

the predators that haunt your dreams are powerless

if you don’t sleep.

And the hallucinations of the deprived become manifest

Like a car slipping off the road in some backwood forest 

 That strips you of you innocence, irreversibly

Rending us

In a world governed by the awoken and evil 

And all of it is real.

the consent that cannot even be perceived

In a yearning for some esoteric grandeur

What makes them strong makes them vulnerable

And complacent

the metal and glass, the wire and wood, the resources and networking

give them nothing more than they were born with

and nothing that will make them happier  

it becomes an articulated fantasy

where every aspect is refined into absurdity

And all of it is real.