Stones crash on rose flesh
Mint Arctic skies leak thawing
Congressional castle, watchtower eyes
Vested guards jest, silver jacket threat, comms
Blink like cell rods at midnight, little spies
Frolic academic battlegrounds, gone
To learn war, friends left, family tree lies
On bombed frontiers, new news pinned, lifestyle drawn
A blueprint of timeless Domes and loveless
Air to accompany sprouting loneliness
Boot to face awakes
Tombed excellence, sandstone maze
Portraits stare cold, oak interior takes
Hold, Council freaks hymn no.2 cuts halls
To symphonic treachery, Gaulless breaks
Silence “Are you lost?” off she calls
“Just seeking peace, new home, old life, what makes
This palace great?” I said hoping that all
Would end soon, anxious me, foolish wanderer dwell
Strange charcoal empress awaits, youth soon fails.
Carved rock, smooth pain pulls,
Lake Mei, plastic shame, acid
Lips, dragon’s scorn burns.
Painted before Us was her, rising Queen
Alexandria, council freak no.1,
“This is where our new Empire begins, seen
Turn to unseen, kids to killers, for some
Home others Hell, who knows in the end, dreams
Could only explain where we are, live son,
Lust endless, gorge fountains, take everything.”
She said softly, heart flooded, bell rings.
Gleaming wasteland heals
Mental atrophy, Devil
Speak meter sweet.
1. MF DOOM/Madlib: Madvillainy
Song: Rhinestone Cowboy
2. Quasimoto/aka Madlib:The Unseen
3. MF DOOM: MM..Food
4. Marvin Gaye: What's Going On
Song: God Is Love
5. Chet Baker: Chet Baker Sings
Song: But Not For Me
6. Twilight: Still Loving You
Song: Still Loving You
7. Mac Miller: Circles (Deluxe)
8. JockStrap: Wicked City
9. Freddie Gibbs/Madlib: Bandana
Song: Fake Names
10. Daryl Hall & John Oates: War Babies
Song: You're Much Too Soon
Acid lips cut quick, cute wench Weeps sick,
Closer craze grows, burning oxygen
Teach more mortar dame, bombs Cosmic strains.
Awaking mad men for fun,
Miss mistress take this drink, Cubes n' all,
Sing along, my ballad calls, Hanging artist.
Testosterone kick, fool
Take a sip,
Window shopping kid take
Mirror dance, disgust my music, A.O.W.
Cat throwing for sealing Dripping wounds,
God's love sighs tobacco,
Signs taunt the lungs,
Aerosol fogs blood shot fury, Hurry up
Appointments running 1.14 miles,9 minutes,
Hold this, all eight tainting inkspots, cry free.
Out Beyond The Sea
Drugless rut, Doom smitten,
Haven freaks spit in drinks,
I look for the words but they
Some part of my broken universe
Success for free, just hand it
Who would it bother?
I testify my complacency,no more
Once I reached to the ceiling then
Lost for words I ran to sanctuary
Could I get what I want?
LEDs pouring azul gloom, Dark Tower
Rising East, John C. December 12, Moonmist,
Kids smooching next to warping industries, lean
Curbs colds, particles to plasma, Walk-in, one,
Butchery bricks, slabs of icy steel, last life
Burnt by brief, Lee K. name tags gleam violently,
In front of the camera, 1,2, lights splash,
Apartment 101 Gaul Heights, cease.
Golden Boulevard, Autumn shade, Winter haze,
Highways militant,left...So on stores close, pink
Billboards five for one, booze and prostitutes,chips
With fizzing colas, vomit quick, college state,
Learn ABCs once more with us, Legion Live!
Pharmaceutical Roads collide, cough syrup
Like boiling tar, particles to plasma, call
The Driver i’m sick, plastic living no time.
Ponder pain under silver raindrops, killer
Ways circle like Raskolnikov, truth far gone,
Red Neon Diner lights shout to me, wanting
Distant rituals to play out, rain to ice,
Notes fly from distant hidden gems,Eden close,
Writing for her, Auburn girl, gentle angel
Fallen from Suburban skies, fateful eye, codes
Mystify, Agents come and go, watch them slip.
Why I Write... For Now 4
As of late I have been writing poetry that has taken on some sort of structure that has allowed me to tell a story that I have been hoping to tell since my first year in high school. I never had the knowledge or even the ability to do half the job until now and it has been truly amazing. The issue is that I do not know if this is the final way that I want my story to be, and I am not sure if I will be able to complete the story. This last year I have been slowly pushing toward a different future that may not allow me to write and even if it does I am uncertain if I will be capable of making this as great as I would like it to be. I write this because I know others have their own strange relationship with writing that has transformed into a part time to full time practice, and then back to part time again. In this current time I write to manifest a story that I feel is truly important, I wish to present the ills of youth in particular, mainly the social madness that has taken place in Wealthy nations, particularly in the U.S given that is what I have the most experience with.
In my previous three little essays (little to me at least) I have highlighted the importance of knowing why you write, and thanking those who take the time to read what you put down, good or not. In addition to that I believe that honesty is absolutely necessary, not just to the audience but to the writer as well, if you cannot fully express the reasons why you write or do not then you will forever be stuck in a pit of fear that will only weigh down every word and creative concept that crosses your page.
For all the glory that prose provides it leaves me wanting more, I remain here because it is a place where I can get the attention itch I need to get me to the next piece. I dislike this, it is the reason why I stopped making so many pieces, I had to slow down and actually take the time to challenge myself, count my syllables, check the thesaurus a million times over to find a word that had a better cousin. While Prose has several people who put out engaging challenges I still find that it does not match the issue that I want to tackle so I take on a blank page with a blank mind not knowing what I want to write but still writing regardless. Taking this on has only led to less being made and my creativity distracted by the world around me. I have a vision as to what I want to create but for some reason the very words for that realm are so beyond me, I do not know how to do it. Even worse in my hopes to create something others will enjoy I hardly take the pieces of others into consideration, I do not support the people that support me. I truly would like to be the writer that engages heavily with the community but I cannot possibly do so in a way that is not disingenuous, while posts could be better others are truly so great that I do not know how to properly evoke my emotions, even the thought of this bothers me, my mind yells “ just say what comes to your mind and improve over time”, and after that it yells “This is foolish these are random people who you may never meet”, perhaps this is true but I come to this website to engage with what others do and to develop my writing. In the end I do not know whether I can talk to every soul and engage with everyone, we all have people beyond our screens that we wish to talk to and places to go and so on, truly I want to say that I thank all the people who read what I write and to let those who read my work that I do not mean ill if I do not respond to you or read what you write, and of course I understand if you cannot come and read what I create.
In terms of what I am currently pursuing in my writing. These past few months I have written Doom, Historia, Oblivion ,Oceanside, and Apocalypse, each relatively short poems that seek to explain a Dystopian Universe as well as the stories of the characters within them. Initially I wanted to do it in a novel format but I found that doing it as a poem allowed me to play around a little more in the way I constructed the world. Generally I like to use one word and break it down conceptually, as I write this portion of the essay I realize that my aims have become more specific before I wanted to show the beauty of Darkness and now I have found that is taking harsh realities and the people within them and finding a way to take some sort of lesson out of it. If not a lesson than to alter the perception of it. Doom is a piece that looks at the lives of youth, or at least as I experience it, so many young adults find themselves in a harsh social landscape that fluctuates between past and current norms. Several also find themselves in a mental hellscape that is hardly ever acknowledged with any harsh truth, it is only coaxed. I am currently trying to figure out how to extract my understanding of my pieces and their aims, that is why my thoughts are all over the place. For the most part these pieces are a means for me to mythologize the current state of this nation into some Dystopian Epic with some fantastical elements. I want to build something of my own as I believe many do.
I have been wanting to write this fourth installment since December but felt as if I had nothing to report on, but now I do and it is not as intense as the last but nevertheless I want to say my piece. I will soon ship out for some training and then go down my career path, if everything goes right, if not I will write a bit more, if so then I hope I can return to create. I hope that once I am done with this route that I can pursue my love of writing if it is still there. Thank you all for the support and for continuing to come back to this website to do what you love.
Thank you all:
Apocalypse watch their dead pockets slip,
Call the kids, commentate the politics,
Fallen stars tell us where you are, there, there,
Under vicious hypocrites, far off in
Wonderland stand for something lost one, or
At least tell us your faults, cult classic, past
Static some form of you exists, sick ways
Persist, subsist on attention lost gen.
Old Regime, burning hills, kill no captures,
Right, they’re all bastards, nothing but us left,
Hatful men, legion crawl in ancient debts,
Hellish pigs, colors fly across our ranks,
Open fire before they scorch our capital,
Red eyed brown shirts, race traitors, murderous
Noose makers, nothing new everything old,
Shining city held in place, shut the gates.
Domed afterlife, Historia awake,
One word in the ear and out the other,
Careless Mankind calling Gods, Council takes
Cosmic scepter round and round, tell the town
Our creators live, on and on flames arise,
Begin your wars as walls trap you slowly,
A cruel anaconda choking all of
Reality, madness rings, clash over.
Before blood and brutes she knelt, Council curs
Carry sacred skulls as cryptic crowds
Shout frozen, supernovae eyes conquers
Reality subdued, Legion enshrouds
Before beaming bulbs, Godless altar stirs
Praising masses through glass, mad thunderclouds
Shaped by timeless Domes, dying daughter flee,
Waving waters, docile leaves call briefly.
Gory symphony awakes, Mythic Men
Damning cesspools of life, strife a dismal
Conflict, green void bites vicious, inviting glen
A second chance, days and nights abysmal,
Through rocky terrain she falls, Devil’s den
Summons eternally, cataclysmal
Floods steal light, angel branches saving two,
Dark tears unite, searing chest heals anew.
Nuclear star tides, glossy grass blades, steam
Covers shivering bones, drenched flesh, sweet sprouts
Cures dread, hot flashes, torn jeans, rushing streams,
Regime jets cruise ill beauty, fated scout
In search of a new home, tales, stories, dreams
Of Oceanside, no waves, a new walkabout,
She walks past scornful heights, valley of death
In her wake, Fall air traces reclaimed breath.
The King Is Dead
The night vacated to the passionate horizon, and in the songs that rang slowly through the swirling wind, a man crept with malicious toes in the pulsing sand.
As he neared his destination, the colliding Universe before him astonished him.
Every star, including the sun, was placed like sprinkles on cake, and every disc from Andromeda to the Milky Way, spun with excellence.
A film played before the dark haired man, his stone like demeanor flourished with a kaleidoscope pattern of light.
Never had his heart been struck so powerfully, never could he interpret beauty without wanting it dead.
His unconscious mind split into two houses of thought.
“Kill the child and resume your villainy”-“Consume nature’s beauty, drink from the red cup, and feel the suppressed thought rise!”-” Penetrate the Wife with the keen dagger, splash victoriously in the family’s dread”-“Split the cosmos, cleave the atoms, eliminate the sadist!”-“Come forth knights of the night, and finish this jester posing as a sympathetic entity.”
“King” he called himself.
At the moment he waited for the troops in his fragile mind to conclude the battle of sanity versus insanity.
Time wasn’t, for it froze.
The Queen and King stood apart at the court,
the ruling was impossible to finalize.
How do you tell the King to give up power and the Queen to stand solely alone, over a fallen empire.
Murder and Beauty
Blood and Life.
“What is it?”
“You longed to kill your sister no?”
“Do you not remember the moment she pitted you against the lions, do you not recall the time when she beat you down and bruised you in the sands?.. Abandoned you in the crowd!”
“Do you not recall the men that looked down at you with disgust, remember how their limbs rose when this blade pierced their stomachs?”
“Beauty wears a crown, topple it. Hate holds a knife, embrace him!”
So the Ocean and the shore in front of him splashed with deep blue roars.
“Are you there? King..”
The visions are scarce in man who is dead inside.
For certain, that was the case at the present...
The King could only see red, crismon, scarlet, BLOOD
Or whatever the dead men slain wish to call it...
He only ever wanted the plainest human generosity; acceptance.
What does it take to simply come into a room and not be seen as an outcast, pushed fast by the eyes of the children who wished not play with him.
Expedient little philosophers they are, when the night is dim, and there lies a body to discard of, and the gas is near red..
Throw the little miscreant off, and out of bounds..
Why hold the child’s hand?
He’s just a burden.
The water sinks, the pale faces will never dwell this place..
So at 7 a.m
he drank chlorine to the brim!
The King was a child-
The King a man-
The King, he swam-
Locked with fate he had little options-
The mother smoked the cigarettes as he drowned,
a sadistic witch!
She was not a queen, nor some random fiend.
She was the deliverer, a swindler of lives...
The child began the evil steps, before he could talk...
Fastened seconds talked to the wicked witch...
So tormented with these vicious lines:
how the waters,
“The lights, proud in the night.
Life, such a tasteless delight..”
“Raise a hand,
I will not stand that demand!”
“Beg, beg, and beg.
You’ll never emerge,
“So? Have you decided, have you circumscribed that stupid man? What does the court jester say?SPEAK...”
Why should he speak if daggers talk well, and in some instances better...
The King doesn’t need family,
all he needs is the darkness...
“Remember what she said you massive dunce? She took every last ounce of trust, and covered you in the dirty!- dirty, ‘urrggg!’- the stupid- flippant- ‘ahhhhh!’- THE LIES”
His mind spoken only with anger, it seems as if the insanity fled a while ago...
Now what has left to go is the madman that lays- or the defendant...
His sister was there, right before him.
He hid in the thick foliage, just staring at the smile of the small boy, and the passionate glare of the little girl..
They looked onward, with no care for the millions of days they may lose, to death.
Cursed are the scum that look for revenge
for others blunders...
However the sister took his trust...
She took him as he was, and then twisted every last fund from the relief jar...
The tears, oh, how the tears were perfectly aligned with the careless hour...
Regardless she took him high, then low...
Her death could be soon,
“Oh Rose, how’ve you had this coming”
“oh, Daughter?...What are you doing here? You shouldn’t intervene with my silliness..”
“What are you doing to my dear brother?.”
“Just a quick dip”
“His face is red, it’s RED”
“So what? I will see to it that you both are dead!..”
So the small girl pushed her into the deep
vat of chlorine.
And ran forth into the deep green forest, it was a place to be lost, and then found...
A place to take a breath from insanity, then what?
Lost children sucked to a dead end...
Not enough hope garnered for a new home.
In the darkest corner, the two alone..
To search for a new home.
The lies are apparent, she vies...
Transfer him from the depths of the bubbling charcoal
Throw him yonder when the moment is quiet.
“Did she wish to silence these things?”
The Autumn was his fall...
Trees dancing with life..
That frantic criminal...
In this trial, A king is on against a child reminiscing over a trifling
She slithered, O she spat...
As you sat in the moons theatre...
Oh she knew well what the darkness could do for sure!
In the pursuit of happiness, what are you willing to
So she did what the wicked do to survive...
Though hardly could this idea be possible, she spent hours teaching him the ways to look up.
The sister held him when the shrieks peaked the dark corners.
She was a foreigner to life...
The witch and daughter were one...
It takes the peak of a full moon
a hundred times over to drive in the pain to the maximum.
The night arrived as any other, although he was older, and more importantly- innocent...
The daughter knew what must be done, the two were to be one....
Brutal breaths, and covered crest...
The night was young, so as they were brought to where the moon howls, she told him:
“Look down- my King”
The whispers were murmurs from the dead demons of grief...
“You have reached the summit, that evil wench is down in red...”
“The world is ours. You are free, although it seems the afflictions are glowing green. You, my King...
have yet to live your dream”
Still a sane man sat on the edge of the spiralling cliff.
He looked around, and heard no sound.
He wished a wish..
He found a fulfillment never so Supreme.
All he could do was look back
“Queen, or better, my sister..Once I was breaths away from Providence, then you pushed that devil, that hound!
Down back to her
shallow chasm... ”
The moment was glorious, the passion could simply be breezed passed every shadow that crept in the foremind of the Queen, of Rose..
It is impossible to tell what every gust spoke,
what was the night attempting to say?
You gave me life, knocked the stone that continued to press me!
I am like a festering insect below the millions of pebbles near the shore..”
“Brother please forgive me”
she whispered silently to herself, off toward some other entity that was leading her toward the innocent man before her...
patience my dear follower..
A war flourished above the clouds,
a clash of grey with a splash of striking lighting, plastered the thirsty earth below.
Each strike was potent upon the temple of her body, and furthermore her mind.
Wailing winds walked wickedly,
bleeding stars shone over their
Violence pursued every leaf,
every leaf flew in hopes to flee,
regardless of color, red or green, brown or orange;
nothing could stop the inevitable reality that had seized these two.
“Why sister, what is it that you do?”
“I wish to close shut the jaws of my hatred, I put a woman in a pit!”
from this moment forth her tears were her veil,
nothing could uncover the darkness that had hunted her down to this very instance.
“I thought I could for us..
I thought that...
We were alone as children,as MERE children!
I was meant to live in prosperity.
I should have not intervened, I should have let the chlorine sink into the chambers of your soul!”
The fire raged, the embers blazed, no longer would she live within her cumbersome cage..
“My life was before me and I was granted freedom, now I will do as any under these afflictions should- kill the creator of the madness; to then silence the hysteria.”
Her steps cracked the stone below her boot, and the stone burst to bits.
Rose, had at last accepted her true self, a witch that could only conquer the universe through the power of push, a force that was warranted by the issuing of her shackles...
“Now dwell in the sorrows of hell you repugnant brute, go down the fire chute...”
And so Rose sung:
silence the maddened,
‘shush’ this dragon!
Revelation by thy divine,
why art thou so unkind?
A dead man walking, and flooded back,
the sours of the night will make you cower-
Now Rose was grown, a thirty-seven year old woman who wished to spend time in the tempest before her...
The children playfully laughed at the water before them, they saw all its flaws with less hatred, and more enchantment.
Rose could feel the aroma of love, it was one that was so palpable,
so magnificent, that not even her husbands fear of that moment could sway her.
Now was the hour of finality,
too many reprehensible actions have been committed,
backed with all the glorious RED that could fill a dozen or so pools- a hundred times over.
Stars, galaxies, the finite, yet infinite universe, and trillions of beings
could hardly prevent this moment from colliding.
A course has to be driven and driven again.
This one in particular,
was worn and torn.
The King stood afar from the glimmering sands, smirking, and cackling toward his weary mentality.
He attempted to take a couple of more steps forth, to permit a better view, but the strength of the forest was much.
The endearing family were like the Ocean before them,
they would wave back and forth in their happy dynamic; then they launched up in to a gleeful dance, running toward one another, and then blasting past the sand.
Each one seemed filled with more than just an essence of hope, but with complete security.
How could they be filled with such enthusiasm?
A day on the beach, on what felt like a deadly isle.
Not a gust of wind could knock them out...
not a blade could split them now.
“So shall it be?
Let the judge, jury, and executioner at last decide!”
His mind melted with delight, his fat little fingers were beginning to lose grasp of the dagger.
“What are you doing? Have you lost it? What are you DOING.”
So moment after moment he digressed from the basket he was placed in, he began unchaining the cage...
A second must be felt, and indudged.
The man dwelling on the fine cloth could hardly forget the events that unfolded nearby.
Rose had told her wicked tale, and it struck horridly onto the sinking vessel
of this man.
His state apprehensive,
The tips of his fingers
longed to pull a trigger.
The man had been quite the ranger before he settled, and certainly, his wooded rifle could not be left behind.
Even before the stories, he stayed armed, and ready to kill.
A lion he was, after a defenseless
The rounds were keen, they could pierce past the thickest of evils; past any gilded being that wished only to crash down every comet ever conceived to torment man.
He was always vigilant.
Rose had said that
King was a maniac, that he would always drag her across the ground, and slam her shut inside a cell.
She also mentioned the way he would twist the feet of rabbits before her, and launch their guts outwardly...
“He would splash the blood across my face, and pummel my soul.. ”
Rose had enticed this man, not as a lover, but guardian...
They were always close, no matter the distance...
What was her motive?
The husband, the ranger, and a new life as a stranger...
What was it that fueled her?
What is convenient for one...
Is dreadful for another.
The mother of the King -that witch!-
saw pain as a feeling to uplift
To provide exodus for the millions of forsaken thoughts...
Do you bleed that pain?
The pain held by your mother, has it towered your head? Or caused death?
The husband was an artichect of a wretched being, building her brick by brick...
All the man wanted was for the children to stay happy, and live as any child should.
He knew what came when the ring wrapped her finger,
he knew that death was imminent, peaking around every corner.
What could possibly trouble the lone ranger more...
A fierce night dragging himself through sludge, betwixt a hateful winter , it would rather crisp its breath to icy daggers, than to cease it momentus massacre.
Was it a man who no longer existed?
A dead brother who was pushed down from a spiralling cliff.
It seems the invisible entities that lurk in our minds are far important than any other true danger...
“King don’t let them temp your malevolence through
It is an illusion!
They wish to draw you in, you think they will invite you into their kingdom?
They could care litte, that family is an Oasis amongst the angels of hell!
You will regret your actions...
You wish for acceptance!
You want the past, as a thief jewels...
You see the grand, you see the child forgotten...
Left down were the beasts shiver,
laying with a broken back
in shackles that she
placed on you!
His toes cried against the frigid ground, not a second did he wait to pursue a possibility
to reconnect with a person who had wished him death.
Who only lied to him,
there were many nights he thought of her, mainly when he sunk his now fallen dagger into the chests of wandering men.
He was still innocent at his core, not a second of isolation could counter his innocence.
A villian who had ended many,
a King over the lives he had stopped.
Now he wanted to be in the sand,
glimmering with the children,
learning how to prosper without
a scythe on his mental.
So he pushed through the remaining vines, and came forth, facing the glistering cyclops in the sky.
His pace increased faster and faster, the beat of his stone cold heart began to reignite.
He could feel the embrace that would soon
The lone ranger
danced in peace with the women of his dreams,
he let his body be taken,
and she let her body direct the course of their
With her deep red eyes she push beyond the border of his soul, and
he could feel the desolate corpse that remained inside her,
she was in shock..
What possible sighting could be so detrimental to a single
The ranger ran for his artifact, the only thing that could bring peace
truths and lies.
He knew what had to take place
but before it could
shrieked past the boundaries of her voice, telling the kids:
“Come here little ones, the devil he’s here, the hour has come.
He will deceive, but he will not receive you, no
he WILL NEVER
As he neared them, The King stared death head on..
He knew that he would not breach them, for something had repelled
A strange thing was that the King wailed his arm in the air, perhaps not strange, pardon.
What was surprising was the dagger that still was clenched in his left hand,
"Little idiot, tear there flesh, and wear it!
They have no care for you!
Do what must be done, end them
But he did not listen, he still knew a chance to reunite
He was in a rush, like a bull after red, he could not be stopped, not one
thing could shoot down his desires.
The King saw the glimmer from the barrel of the wooded rifle of the Lone Ranger,
and without hesitance the Ranger
There were red skirmishes with the air, and then the sand,
The bullet wept,
the smoke, it was fresh...
So Rose said:
"One of the Isle,
In death you are mild...
In life you were but a child...
Though my heart was dead,
I knew happiness for a while...
Destined for villian-hood...
You had given me strife..
I speak in truths for my family is not here,
you are a corrupted figure..
You were dead from the start...
A bullet could not stop him,
not the innocent child, but the driver,
the maniac with a smile,
the joker with
With a fierce cut
he slashed her…
Slashed her dead
THE KING IS DEAD
Heaven sent, Hell bent.
Small talker, drowsy walker,
Say those last words quick.
That tankish brute burst
Through buried men, alone, no...
With Legion rising.
Nameless forces sparked
Ember teeth squeeze blazing jaws,
Steel walls turned foe drop.
City dweller mood
Like kings men galloping free.
Marble Goddess sigh.
Drag them, torture if
You must, always torture, send
Those rebels to ruins.
O’ live lioness,
Prowl in sacred complexes,
Data mine, wander.
Smiling kindred cut,
Dragged to noxious country lots,
Childhood bludgeoned rouge.
Tyrant, lover, fool,
We’re nothing new, just reruns,