Two Things

Two things.
1. If you missed out on the Grand Slam, youre a bum and you missed some dope poets. Team member Jess Bailey does a sick piece on child sex slavery. It will change your life
2. Here is an excerpt from an upcoming piece

"Gladiator" - hypothetic

My eye lids are car doors on little fingers
my feet are concave lenses on tiny ant hills
and my heart beats not because it wants to
but because its the only thing it knows how to do

Prohibition

Prohibition - hypothetic/daydream

sinking
underwater you’ve dropped anchor
sea conch shells and jellyfish catch your balance
your scraping bottom
bottom feeding

lurking goons
this seabed is not meant for easy breathers
algaefied creeper can only speak in these quarters
so be wise
my lungs are your oxygen tank
breathe at your own discretion
I am not responsible

dream catchers are for nightmares
but you are chasing happy
Hansel and Gretyl have left you trails
disregard
your path is mapped by will

And each step might twist an ankle
or singe a soul
Judgement day has come
The sky cracked open
You know who has come a knocking
But you never get the chance to notice
Synesthesia essence cast over your mouth and nose
you can taste what you see
But what good is that when you are blind to the world

Pirate eye patches cast shadows on bulging sockets
A fashion statement to remain observed
Retinas fixed dilated
open hallways and open wounds to the elements
Bubble wrap casts will protect your journey
But who protects the soul

Purer than a snow white complexion
a ghost mangled in stardust
make a wish and just like that i’ll disappear
hell fire could never burn like the stinging sensation between my toes
must be all the words i deconstructed
left on the floor
so sharp they cut like knives

But you find solace in the silence
Deaf mute is more relaxing
And its a little calmer now
The waves don’t seem so high
And the gulls have come to rest
peaceful breast on peaceful tide

And the sun has begun to set on our lives
but daybreak is only one two three teardrops away
melted wax like impressions
my sight fixated on the hand-stamp I left
my prints are labyrinths
easily i get lost in the spaces I'm between
But somethings missing

i can see it on the sunset
telescopic eyes meet monocular opinions
and thievery is just my way of coping
i’d rather steal your smile than dive down deep for mine

my fingers are polyphonic
and you say that i should learn to socialize
but where would i put these weights if i was
burdened with conversation

I’d put it in my pocket
happiness would be only a handful
my lips glazed with nostalgic memories only we create
Sure there were too many names and too little spaces
So just tattoo your initials in the crevice of my mouth
where your name will always be
in the wake of my smile

Polaroid

This is part of something bigger

Polaroid - hypothetic

So here I kneel
Same parking lot, same trigger
Your ghost can hold the pistol
But don’t pull it once
And don’t pull it twice
Pull it six times
Leave nothing left to resemble me
Now take a picture

On my chest in the shape of a completed heart
I’ve etched in razor blade red my final testament
Now take a picture of this as well
Combine both photographs and mail them to the home tattooed on my wrist
Leave no return address

Gardenboy

This is a collaborative piece from the eventual sketchbook "hypothetical daydreams" by me and my friend daydream. This peace is important as it is putting a few ghosts to rest for me, but we all know they will be back for an overstayed welcome at my haunted house party. ohh they're knocking on my door right now. enjoy.

"Garden boy" ---hypothetic/daydream

she wears a sweatshirt
like the sun wears an eclipse
like boris yeltsin drank his last
vodka on the rocks

her mouth sown shut
fastened shoe laces integrated with the hope
her lips never had a chance to taste

someone give me a scalpel
I’m gonna cut these megaphones free
weed whack and realign your vocal chords
you’re screaming silence

the overgrowth has overgrown
vines entwining the space between
your esophagus and trachea
oxygen takes precedence

secondly, exhaustion
so drain some spinal fluid
its on tap
but osteoporosis and rheumatoid movements will be left as residue
bodies in repetitious movements
puzzle pieces that don’t fit but forced to get acquainted
her pelvis is a well
a mere receptacle for the
overflow from the locks and dams of rib cages and breastplates
she says whisper me something beautiful

but beauty only drips like morphine
sedating prey and laughing at those beneath it
so silence is reiterated
a sound so loud even the deaf can hear it
and ignorance will forever be encrypted in her eardrums

Every statement sitting silently
Behind Dutch walls of calcium and enamel
But delicate fingers can only hold secrets for so long
The gates have opened and I remain
A bloated memory of something kept caged

Floating
My words leak through my pores
This rivers poisoned

But you drink and I won’t stop you
So I rock you back and forth
steering clear of these cavities thriving in my molars
no dose of Novocain could defuse

Time slips, a secret
I spit and never will I ever taste this bitter sweet resurrection

salvation is fluoride, gauze and dopamine patches
band-aids only heal when mommy’s kiss can make it better
but these knees are not bruised from falling
and these chlorophyll stains can tell a story
put your ears to the ground

it has constant inconsistent rhythm
revealing ditches where only our memories and indian spirits lay
a dream catcher incognito,
rescuing gift wrapped thoughts
from this dangerous fiasco
jump out of my melting corneas or drown in my dilated cerebellum
We’ve become figurines

induced by paralysis
she is wicker rocking chairs left to weather
silent decadence on silent front porches
UV rays melt conversation at the source
nipping buds like taking lives
like stealing souls
like crossing bones
her marrow holds no nutrients
she’s as good as an empty hallways
there’s space to move
but there’s no moving her

she is permanent like scar tissue
like insects encased in amber
her will to speak is prehistoric
whip lash tongue frozen mid stride
positioned like cobras solidified

By the knowledge that she doesn’t really know
she keeps it all deep down
Just don’t acknowledge the pain
Just deny your next sip
No matter how thirsty you become

Just keep it all down
No matter how much vocal regurgitation is induced
Because the second time around
Is never quite like the first

Ambiance

Here is a new piece. This will most likely end up a collaborative piece with my friend daydream.


Ambiance - hypothetic

my next tattoo will be a light switch
so when I want
I can turn me off
and maybe i’ll even spring for one of those dimmer switches so i can at least
turn me down
like volume
the incessant noise of the
ting tinging of imaginary rain on the tin roof of my skull has left me
vulnerable to
the decibel level of my ambient thoughts and now I am
tossing and turning within the
whirlwind of bed sheets left too cold from lack of coalitioned body heat
and now I
have become an insomniac
No, an outsomniac
because I can see me sleeping
as peacefully as child soldiers in double meter deep foxholes
but this pitter patter of
make believe precipitation keeps me wide awake like its morning
only its 11:13
and its much too late for wishing
so I reach beneath my arm and bring the level down
the room is too bright for me to see
you
not next to me

hypothetic/daydream

I've been asked to collaborate with another poet and do some group pieces, so pretty soon you will be seeing more poems up here in rapid succession. yayyyy for words!!

here is another haiku to hold you over.

I’d walk through fire
If then it would make you safe
Would you put me out.


ohh and the grand slam is tomorrow, so even though I'm not in it, some of my friends are. Go support the poetry! 8pm at the Waterfront.