Dorian Symptom

I starred for a long time/ For a long time, bliss.
Marie is a portrait/ love is a canvas

The more I starred/the more I saw
The feeling was gone

It's not fair/ How -
the more I look/ the magic is gone

I see Marie's smudges
and she grows uglier by the day

She's the Mannequin

Healthy and young (no really knows how old)
We hear your stiletto song
Every time- she leaves
With every hair in place, her scarf and leather coat
She's a sad song, she's a sad love song
Every time she goes
So damn sure- a walking mannequin of the party
Her walk and talk-makes us, we believe and want to sing
Far, far away I scent her perfection
As the walking mannequin goes

Post-Revival

The little boy thought in music
The world was so easy, wasn't it? Back then when the street lights were all green. The melody made sense and e.q.m everything was explained, he just said "look there, the proof is yours."
You don't got to be Italian to make a naked sculpture. Now, now is not real, he used to say. Impassioned, brave youth where are you sleeping in the castle? Doesn't he remember how the mind was New York and Paris; alive, complex and free.
The wind is so cruel, ain't it? Growing up isn't what it should be. I think I'll go back now to the burned back pages, we concluded.

I see her smile / through her invisible veil/
her dark eye shadow/ glaring in the mirror

lovely and plain/ Gemini/ her reflection in the mirror
dark-magic allure

When she was born/ the Magi was there/
A starfish around her neck

A black, silk dress to wear/
Oh, creature, creature of desire

Smile, Mona, smile
glittering dead eyes of captivating despair

When I see you smile/ I don't got to think
Because I know then what poetry means/

Staring in your tan skin
You got the Mona Lisa blues/

But who really really cares?
It's your love and symmetry

They came to picture and see
So smile desire forever.

I feel her coming

Look at the moon babe
Don't it shine bright the night
Look at the moon babe
Shunning the star's bright light

Just like this pain lady
Whipping across the night
Don't be afraid to let me
Guide you through the pale, white moon light

The Piper stays clean lady
Why'd you treat him so bad?
The adagio tune of the stars plays like green, acid rain
Please, swivel your dancing head and stay.

We forgive and forget to hold each other
White, naked, smooth and wet
Remember we used to care?
Isn't it funny babe, isn't the moon light funny babe

Forever pale white moon light
Through the field of crickets - I hear her
coming across the room
No, I can't- No I can't leave her behind

Forever and more
A distant guitar is strung
I'm left soulless and alone when she's gone
I just can't- I just can't lose her love

Day and night
Celestial heavens or abyss black reef
I believe, I believe- I hear her walk
When she came my way, that night under the pale white moon light


x x x

Pink glowing morning reflecting in the sea
The frozen hour gone to past with your lips and kiss
Look at the ocean, look at the ocean
Dark, deep mystery
Just like my longing love lady
That rings true in my heart when we meet.

Fast talking man. Grabbing hands and giving out cards. With his name on it. Of course, he came up to me. He was hungry for my world. It's not good. Look here, in this box is what I know and there I am in stop-motion- visual-effect reality.

Queen Marie my ex best friend. She's gone home. Up to the winter cabin to dwell on the grey morning past. It's all over now/baby blue.

And Marie she dresses and runs away from bed. Pacing fast down the street, leaving some kind of feeling away. The man woke and roared. Marie's pillow laid naked. He picked up a long black hair where she lied. His veins grew blue with contempt, jealousy swimming in his empty head. He couldn't understand how his baby has picked up and left him. (Just like a stupid man, he put on his pants and went hunting after her.)
Out in the cold, blue street, Marie weeped, sitting in a corner, feeling the invisible steel cage all around her.
Dorian walked by sporting a coat and a bit drunk. He called out to Marie to ask her what's wrong.
It's life and life only, she said.
Oh come now, come with me. My debutants know what I need. But, you know got what I want.

And you know, maybe...

God took a shit and down came the land, sea and sky. Now, that Howard Zinn died, who's going to teach us the truth, as the aforementioned.

State of the States

Really hope the Pres. Obama starts off on an ironic/sarcastic ramble for the SOTS or SOS. Something like "If you got $10 medical bill, put yo hands up. If you got $50 medical bill, put yo hands up." "All the cheating Senators, make money."
"Where my Reps. at, where my Reps at? Make nooiiisee."

There's been some criticism that Obama hasn't said something to really grab on to in the rhetorical arena. Lot's of great speeches but aside from Yes, We Can, there hasn't been that single phrase that white, middle America, mainstreamers seem to need to get on the boat for policies that would benefit them.
At this point, it's abundantly clear. Actually, Grand Canyon proportionally clear; the Obama Administration needs a meme. (for those of you who don't know what a meme is, pls go back to 2k4.)
As an experienced Internet browser, I've learned a thing or two on what is/what is not internet famous. The Ins and Outs. What's hip and what's nipped.

Keeping with the hip/nip trend (the Internet loves trends) one thing Obama could do to get some mo-fuckng attention is get pic'ed having a nip slip. (you know nipple slip). Just Google nipple slip. People love nip slips. If anything it's a psychological tell on our need to be teased. Sure, we can see all of Lindsay Lohan's pups but isn't it much sweeter when the puppies play peek-a-boo. I see you. Perfect place for the Obama nip slip...casual slip during bball game.
Next order of business Obama needs is to get a bucket of kittens. By far the most popular word/image on the Internet is pussy (in all its uses). http://icanhascheezburger.com/ has won several Webbies(for some god-forsaken reason) But, what youtube and icanhascfijnidfib prove is people love to see cats/kittens with large captions underneath them. Photoshop and time pending, images will be uploaded. E.g., baby cat looking into camera with it's big eyes. Caption: Me wanty healthcare.
Or, two cats touching noses. Caption: Marriage Equality, plz.

Tweens are really into the Vamp vibe these days. I would've exploited this for political capital a long time ago. As the tweens go the country goes, as they say. So, people like this faux-miserable Vamp look, et al Edward. Obama just needs to deliver this speech with some dark, emo clothes, look a bit constipated, a bit confused, a bit like someone is twisting your balls and sprinkled with a bit of your puppy died a tragic death.

If Obama is serious about leading us to a new era of responsibility then he needs him some tweeps. Old fashion campaigning, friends and human contact is so 2k6. Twitter is the new formal letter. He should be on it constantly, following the hottest trends and updating his tweeps.

(More, maybe)

zephyrhills to sponsor wet t-shirt contest

The water gatherer will sponsor the annual "wet tits around the world" contest.
"We believe that our excellent H2O will really shine and steal the show at wet tits around the world," a spokeswoman said.
"Because of our crisp, clear, non bacterial, non poop water, the resolution on the wet breast will be spectacular. beyond hd.
"
Zephryhills is committed to empowering women through the silent protest that is wet breast. The Co. encourages all women to take a glass of water, champagne, pee, apple juice or cider and splash it onto their breast during the president's state of the union address.
If this doesn't bring equal pay and treatment to women. Nothing will.

Melancholy; I'm not there. (In the stream take 55)

It ain't alright in the my old mind where things get confused with the past and present time.
We cried all day and night through the cold winter. When it was done, it was hard to get through.
And the wailing sounded so good. I was there, when she said believe in the air and care. Years gone she follows the Lord and I don't belong to them or anybody. My foresaken Angel that doesn't hear my cry.

I cry for heaven to hear my call of love once more. One for one, they pardon me I'm not there I'm gone/
The night before, I pleased the gods. Esoteric love for my lady, she won;t believe the kingdom is for her.

And she's gone like the rainbow that shined yesterday, As she's far away, looking at the street lights pass by in the flas of light. Inches by the second away from my hear. When I was there it was alright, when I was gone...

Her Media temptation in the old sea, gives me faith and proclamation
When I told her I was born to love her. I ran and walked slow
I didn't perceive her I was all the way gone.

Ohhh, sweet sun don't compromise for my comfront of stay. Don't' trust the numbers, because I'm not there. I'm gone.
I've been told by the man that's it's not me it's them to carry the weight-I;m shouting I'm gone.

And colors out the spectrum she surprised everyone. Calling for love to each one.

Human After All

So./ lot's of self loathing (without the fear) post-college. Maybe this space will turn into a diary and I can really loathe. /(I'm listening to a song that it's saying something about singing vaginas and tool sheds)?/

I wish I were a better life coach. Maybe Tony Dungy is interested. If my being/soul/spirit/mojo are all one of the same then I'm basically coaching all of them at once. It's a lot to handle. Thats why football, basketball, baseball, other relevant sports. have assistant coaches.

It'd be nice; someone else calling the shots.

I guess that's what some people call religion?

Yuppers.

There's a cold wind behind my back. Weird. Which leads me to believe I should produce a ghost hunter shows. But, what's special about mine is the fact you'd be able to date the ghost. We fnd the ghost of old hotties and rent em' out. Cha-ching, ching chingy.

Learning, much like life, is a futile exercise. Generally, it doesn't matter yet we go do it. Gladly.

Boxes, existential boxes are easy to make.

Everything is dead. All round in the cloud are neon lights, shiny things, calling for attention. Bold letters, large cap size BUZZ words for starring like modern art. Re-useable manuscripts of fake papyrus. Ancient to the second. A white-rabbit with wings exploring the white and pink skies, even in the dar; (through a back light). Strained eyes, thirsty mouths from abundance. Too much chokes, starves, Makes you want to run for the hills. Five words; that's all. A wink a smirk, coin flipped coolness. Get it now? It's no. 1 and it will be no. 1. Why wouldn't it be? It sees. It calls. It pleasures. It laughs. It taste. It judges. Chaotic order but there will/ there is order. Hierarchal order.
And she? so aware of other, complete disparaging issues. Jumping from one side to the next. Rubbing elbows, licking feet, blowing kisses to stout men. Au contraire.
And we, fools, keep the balance shifting forward toward the precipice of sweet release and destruction. For a > thousand years, thousand monkeys writing. Something will be right.
Back to those flawless boxes encrusted rhinestone wall paper. Instant metamorphism. No pain, no problem, just talk to the talk. Yes, visuals too. Confirm, RSVP, and conform.

Bright

Things are worse then better.
She's all too quaint and alright .
And the pint indicates i'm out of luck- I was there.

I remember when she and all cared.
Down and down the days mesh into a medieval-war drapery- I was there.
Ennui, ennui down the hourglass as I stare
Nostalgic longs of touch for my muse that was there.

Now the moons and letters changed
I believe she and them don't care
And I go, go by the road I know
But no one is there

There used to be a choir for a new mystic
but I've missed the alchemic caravan
The stars know the answer
And we are all for one. she harrowed me- I was there

Like I've cried the nights gone
Shadows of worst yet fonder times
More static, contagious smiles and sand kingdoms I ruled supreme
-I was there.

It's all diffused as I lift the veil
The father said it's gone and I can't
She's gone like the rainbow that shined yesterday
They've forsaken me- I was there

A coal fire stairway, it's a long time, it's a crime
but i need, I believe it's rightful
to carry on carry on the grind.

Tomorrow is Gay

When your nails and gravity have grown too long; don't hesitate. Wish, wish
wish into the fountain of youth.
I can't move in fear of going somewhere.
Imagining Polynomians garden in fortune and fame.
Silly, I wish I can go back from where I came.
The guards never leave their post.
Left looking like those.

Up and down and down again back to burgundy.
Everybody stands behind me 44th street when the street gets rough.
The joker is there to bluff and the jack to puff.

I believe I've had enough.

They Say the Darkest Hour is Right Before the Dawn

Sounds gaping my mind, like a roosters morning cry.
Starting a new, a new Sunday, a new life.
Blue eyed baby tells me to shhh
Listen and speak quickly.

THe ringing remains. A jingle. A call to the wild.
Meet me in the near future? I say yes, it's only natural.
I'll be wearing my felt hat, looking svelte.
Oh, look at the darkness. Oh, look at the darkness trying to derail my mind.

Well I, go in dancing through barb wire placed in darkness.
Till I find the sun sinking as deep as the love gone twice over.
Ain't that something; when you can't feel someone's lips.

Eros, belongs to me in the rain and snow.
Mine, mine, mine.
They don't know. But, I got everything, I'm an artist. There's no looking back.

Forever True

Épater la bourgeoisie

I walked the with some funny men of God. And the silent morning reminded me of the dark night. Walking across my doorstep, it's here and there and now. A thousand miles ahead. A thousand miles behind. Lenovo called out for some food from his balcony. Isn't bread good enough brother? I'm late for the station. Walking, feeling ugly and worn, taking a breath to lessen the suspense. Another used up 21st century boy. It's all right with me. The pressure taste so good, how I hoped it would. Like shit. Down the street, stopping and going seeing a shadow that's not there. I stepped into my little, wooden boat. Oh Odysseus, yes yes take me down the river....At the end of the green river in a boat house of lights for lover; I travel blindly. For I trust perfect bodies. Forsaken and broken, how I will they see me? Sweet, drowning salvation. Down with the seaweed with the garbage, I'll wait for her.

A fish spoke; there must be someway out of here. "Look here, there's no reason to say and go through all that. Let us follow fate."

Where are my five believers?...You know now fish, I had love in the morning once...it was hard to say goodbye. And you know fish, a girl told me once poetry is writing pretty words for a pretty fantastic world.

And it's not like that is it?

No, nothing new. It's a beautiful dark forest to be walked through a sorrow crutch. A flower bending away from the sun.

Sometimes, in my dreams, I hear shouts calling; defense, defense, defense, defense.

Sometimes...

Floating away all the time. A little further away from that place where the sun shines too bright. Some flowers need darkness to blossom.

A Bonny Lad: Rap Debut, Freestyle

(Scene: The Studio, black hooded sweater on with 3 bandanas on and eating bananas while rapping into microphone.)

It's the naughts which mean nothing

don't confuse it with aught because that don't mean nothing

I got 2010 bitches sayin' they want me

And i tell em I'm married to the game; my second cousin.

She's a bitch but gives me lots of bread

To feed the pigeons and ducks down by the lake.

Yo, I got so much bread-Ima carboload

I bang bang homies and their bitches.

So much fire, I got my own Cialias edition

Sublime Clouds

Smile. Smile at the smiling clouds.

A flock of empty heaven moving softly

somewhere.

Birds join in with the wind and fly, carefree

Knowing a little bit of rain.

A Fruitless Foe

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=122275446&f=1002&sc=igg2

First, it makes us put on extra layers of clothing. Furthering covering our sexiness and genitals. Next, it comes for our warmth. Starting with our extremities and a shivering blow to the face. I've had enough; Mr. Winter. Or should I say...Mrs. Winter. I know. Only a woman scorned can be so cold for such a long time. Even directing its frosty wrath toward the unconnected, happy, humble, decent, small-middle town (we're in the South but we feel much more like Ohio) American, abortion-hating, GOP hugging, tea-bagging aficionados, square-dancing folks of Florida.
Now, its frozen our fruit vis major. I would've never predicted the wintery cescendo ending in fruit genocide. Nature keeps testing us. And we shall protest. Let us all eat a fruit. And if you are fruit, I hope you are not fozen. Don't fret pioneers, for we cannot tarry.
Our cri de coeur will be answered anon.

The Naught Decade

Perhaps, it's the experience of two millenniums. I feel old.

And with age, of course, comes wisdom and superior sexual prowess.

The cub has matured into a lazy, yet spectacular lion.

2010: The Sexy Decade

It seemed just like the other day was 2009. To welcome the new decade, a decade's resolution list is in order. There's big hopes for this decade, it's the bud of youth. Ten years later, I'll be be 32, And probably boring or dead. In no particular order:

1)Attract and forage with older women. It's important to get accustomed to older vagines early on. It's less shocking (or lack thereof) later on.

2) Venture into reality TV...become a star.

3) Remake the jersey shore with a new series titled, Hialeah's Canals

4) Do things, see stuff.

5) Stop world hunger

6) Marry at least twice

7) Learn how the foxtrot to prepare myself for the roaring, bobbed hair 2020s.

8) Bring back the double wink as a suitable way to say hello

9) Fuck at least thrice a week.