American Skills

We are good at a few things here in America.
First of all we're good at killing,
follow up on that and we're good at billing,
which in the case of the poor, is essentially killing,
so like I said, here in America, we're good at killing,
and when you think about it, it's awfully chilling
that we focus on murder when we could be filling
empty stomachs and cracks in the wall,
and some of you dont understand at all,
how long and how low some kids must crawl,
looking up to men who snatch purses drop verses or know who to ball,
and it's ironic that despite being so low, they still have so far to fall,
I'm inspired by the kids who manage to deny death,
with each and every embattled bailout breath,
now I dont want you to be confused,
I reference not the money with which the economy was infused,
with my subjects the politicians are far less enthused,
and that is why a presidents bipartisan bullshit promises leave me unamused.
We need to get past this pulled up by boot straps mentality,
come on people there is no such thing as meritocracy.
I protest the pund of my flesh versus coins held preciously,
because if there is anything else we're goo at in America, it's defying authority.
I dare you to price check my labor, you couldn't possibly pay my fee,
if for no other reason, than the fact that it is imaginary.
Here have some advice, have no fear it's free,
try a taste of the American Identity,
Fuck the system.

In Defense of Stray Thoughts

Thoughts are not clouds against the sky, they push up against my feet so I say they are the ground.
Watch as illusions, conclusions and contusions blossom when from my lips leak creation sound.
Words wielded as weapons are no more weak when whispered, or so I have found,
thus it is neither volume nor vibration, but thought to which the soul is bound.
I am not mindful nor am I mindless,
don't confuse my distraction as being thoughtless,
my scattered psyche and tangent trails are a form of progress.
Moving on from a single volition is not a symptom of weak decision, I must confess,
had I not divergent dedication and meandering meditation I would need medication and be pointless.
There are those who would have me be pointless though,
and if I were we would never grow.
I do not want to simply hand out lines for you to toe,
nor do I was to hand out neatly wrapped gifts tied with a bow.
See I would rather have you say "I think" rather than "I know."
How many times have I heard: "You got somethin' kid so with your points be blunt."
Sadly, my mind does not speak in gesture and grunt.
You could learn lessons from non-linear lyrics that loop backwards like they're asking "why only approach from the front."
Don't tell me that my mind is tattered,
because I have never thought that mattered,
and it was never simplicity with which woeful worlds were shattered.
I am told that I have a problem with ambiguity,
probably because I seek to make a throne for it in my poetry,
and I am fond of double entendre, which means I lack maturity.
I seek to make you question mind, soul and authority.
How is this for a work out? Can you flex your morality?
Are you no longer relishing this relative reality?
Are you enjoying this taste of true authenticity?
Come and join me in the writing community.
I understand if your can't get a grip or handle me,
but if you do see yourself as sky, strong, blue and free,
than I hope I have done nothing else than made you cloudy.

Mary's Light

I think that everyone is afraid of the dark,
but, I was still ashamed of my Mother Mary night light.
So much so that once out of sheer peer induced 6 year old bravado,
I unplugged her,
that night as I lay in bed, of nothing was I sure.
In fact I probably would have cried,
if not for on of my city's thousand street lights.
At age six those lights tinge everything gold.
It was a comfort really,
and not to get all touchy feely,
but it made me feel not so alone,
like if I curled exactly where the light shone
The monsters couldn't get me.

Nowadays the lights tinge everything orange.
Kind of like it has been dark so long that the shadows themselves have started to rust.
It's kind of funny that of all the things the night could become, it became oxidized,
because it seems like oxygen has been less than abundant lately,
My lungs are saturated with exhaust fumes,
and I scrape my feet before coming inside,
lest I leave a trail of carbon foot prints leading to my door.
Then I have to shake the orange flakes from my shadow,
cause we dont want that decay on the floor.

I take up my position beneath a skylight,
and wonder if maybe the night didn't rust,
but was obscured by the trapped in amber dreams.
Dreams people let go of in trade for things like job assurance or self confidence.
then instead of the night rusting it's burning,
because after all, what is more flammable than a dream?
and what is more flame retardent than gun powder?
Cause I dont know anything that can douse an abstract ember faster,
than a misplaced bullet... unless it was a well aimed one.
Wouldn't be ironic if we armed fire fighters with these most fantastic extinguishers?
Send out the kids who never let go of their bright red toy truck ideals,
and let them deal with the blazing detritus of abandoned aspirations.

I think everyone is afraid of the dark,
so I understand why someone would give up a dream
light it with a cigarette
pulled from a pack called regret,
a pact they never thought they'd get.
Then curl up on the edge of the pyre,
thinking silly thoughts like:
"Maybe if I lie right here the monsters wont get me."

It doesn't matter that it has been more than a decade since I unplugged the maiden Mary.
I am still afraid of monsters.
Boogeymen named failure and solitude,
who have long dirty claws that scrape at rib cages,
and the space just behind my eyes.
I'm far too old not to believe in evil.
Far too old to think that a:
"Hail Mary, full of grace!"
could put bold monsters in their place.
I'm far too young not to try it anyways.
Isn't that why anyone prays?
because the plausible and the possible have been played,
and all that remains is grace.

At this point, most hope has been painted to black doom,
with soot from dreams burned up in exhaust fumes,
and breaths that were eaten up by the oxidized gloom.

So scared of the dark am I,
that the first time I experienced true night
the kind speckled with stars that inspire,
boys to tell sweet and sweaty lies
to get girls to open not yet ready thighs,
All I could think was that here hide all the monsters I despise,
here where the night is new and free of rust
the monsters have their time to bide,
and no number of fiery dreams could have that night defied.
I surpassed terrified and became petrified,
my body was now a cave,
and if one were feeling brave,
they could have read the message carved into the stone of my rib cage
"Do not waste your time, this one wont be saved."

I think that everyone is afraid of the dark.
If they think aren't,
than I think they've never looked inside,
suddenly it's not so funny to think of "Where the sun dont shine."
Cause the sun doesnt shine,
on things curled around your spine,
nor does it radiate inside of your chest,
are you sure that is a heart that beats beneath your breast?
I think if I were a monster it is there I would like best.
I do not mean to be a pest,
nor do I wish to disturb your rest
but if sleep alludes you, you could try a guest,
I have one I might suggest...
her name is Mary.

Idiomatic Insanity

Lo siento.
Like, low I feel
Like I feel it
Like I'm sorry.
Por que?
For what?
what for a season?
Dame un razón or a razor,
and I will cut clean into us two.
So bésame, abrázame, screw it, mátame
because without you it doesn't matter to me.
Like my germanic antic
fails to manage a mind this manic
and my frantic tongue finds follie in a language romantic,
knowing it not, due to the taste and haste of panic.
No, I can't break the ice I'm like an organic titanic,
slowly sinking in the chill northern atlantic.

I just want to sleep.
Sólo quiero dormir.
Alone to pass through a door mere inches from my face.
into a land of fantasy y fantasmas.
This world, este mundo.
Is woefully mundane
it brings not literal but liturgical pain,
to live an existence so plain
with minds trapped in frames
souls and spirits subject to societal contrains.
No. No, I refuse to live as the man in chains,
I refuse to keep these ideas locked up in my brain,
So I guess I might be insane.
Can we make that a refrain?
Yes. I guess I might be insane,
because I want to speak in languages I don't know,
because I want to smell the soft scent of summer in sleet and snow,
because I want to plant a birch in the dark and then watch it grow.
Write love letters on its skin, set it ablaze, I hope you like the show.
Watch the smoke go winding through the wind
whilst whining soft hymns
as off to heaven it goes.
I guess I might be insane,
because for me the message here is quite plane,
I want you in a way that is not tame,
but say nothing and reasons like razors are to blame,
reasons like not knowing the rules to your game,
reasons that dont stop me from wanting to play,
I guess I might be insane.
'Cause there's this pounding in my head that I can barely explain
growing louder tumultuous over the words that I say,
it's like the reasons are pounding against one thought:
"I have nothing to lose and everything to gain."
The bouncing reasons have me shaking like tracks beneath a train.
But I'd better go to sleep now,
lest you think me insane.


Poet's note: I don't know how I feel about the title of the poem it might change.

A Complaint, a Commendation and a Call to Conscious

Dear American Representative Government,
I would like to place a complaint,
I take issue with a type of your product placement.
The item in question is your democracy starter kit,
Product ID #107-56 "writing a Terrorist Watch List."
Formerly known as "How to fight a  Communist."
Subtitled as "Unmalleable  Leadership Replacement"
Originally sold as "So You Want to be Imperialist?"
See, the problem I have found is that the kit doesnt work,
and at first I thought maybe just mine had a quirk,
and I didn't want to say anything and be the jerk,
but I've looked and know where the problem seems to lurk.
I called some friend in Iraq, Egypt and Iran,
then a few more in Palestine and Afghanistan,
Guatemala, Panama and Bolivia,
Ecuador, Chile, El Salvador and Columbia.
Then I went and chatted with Cambodia,
alongside Laos, Vietnam and Korea.
Then of course Greece and Bosnia,
Germany, Poland, former Yugoslavia,
and they agree,
Your problem is that you think you can export democracy,
on the backs of bullets
that end up buried in the bellies of peasants
you need to know that this does not qualify as diplomacy.
Between Shahs, Generals, Presidents and all the problems you didnt see,
there is one fact, and this is key:
Violence is not conducive for a state that's free.

Dear Revolutionaries, marchers and occupiers,
protestors, and indeed all other kinds and creeds bullshit deniers,
I would like to issue some congratulations,
yes you are receiving most sincere felicitations,
as opposed to the usual martial condemnations
and the God-Bless-'Murica-screw-you-hippies  damnations,
You folks are my favorite flavor of societal aberration.
I want you to know that your faith is not misplaced
With heads hooded, hands cuffed and wrists chaffed
your cry, your pain is a prayer most chaste.
Know that in your stone and bars tabernacle
where you worship with chain and shackle
you can let loose a laugh, a delirious cackle
for you have the war, even if they have the battle

Now, to you average citizen I'm glad you have waited.
I need you to take these folks we've got nominated,
and work towards getting them defenestrated
they're just part of a system from which our problems emanated
let's get agitated, let's get aggravated
damnit folks we're so close we've almost made it
I have an idea and here let me demonstrate it
This all comes down to power, to information
so come here listen, I'm talking dissemination
cause I am sick of the freedom imitation
I want love and life, lacking limitation
and it all starts with a legitimate administration
free of big buy lobbyist contamination
free of candidates that are simply a sensation
I'm asking a lot, but your presence here is an indication
That you know something is wrong within our nation.
So this is what I've got to ask,
I know it seems like a daunting task
but this is something we can't just let slip past
and we have got to act fast
cause the way things are going this chance wont last
because we are lining up, our roles have been cast
the stage is set, the actors amassed
get ready folk, this will be a blast,
what I need you to do is simply say no.
Tell the leaders that you wont just let this go,
that your signs and songs are not just a show
that you really are in the know
and that once our chants start to flow
once our numbers start to grow
our trumpets start to blow
our hearts fires start to glow
that autocratic mountains will be laid low
the process is one that only starts slow
then picks up pace until it takes off with a country in tow.
Dear average citizen, it all starts with you,
it only takes one to start or maybe two
but in case I havent gotten this through
you have power, possibly more than you knew.