Poetry · Writing

Massacre of ’09

I never want to be a villain-

casted out like Hanks

sitting like a gargoyle

invisible.

Words sharp

the knife kept clean-

but they remember;

The massacre of 09

and they see the monster from that time

but the wolf skin has been shed

sheep just like you-

but they see the wolf.

Sheep skin is expensive;

daily upkeep

expensive-

chasing idle sheep through marked forest.

can lose it all-

moving through the fields,

fangs left hanging

and they ran to tell the masses

they’ll plaster my face on every brick

they’ll never forget me.

Poetry · Writing

off-limits

high on eagle eye

no code name just a sharpshooter-

picking off helpless like Trump

dealing with the world like Trump-

spitting in the eye of my neighbor

make him late for his wife in labor

taking a step back and seeing the villain

pursing the name sake- leave em stranded on an island

nothing left but our name, can’t take it with us

leaving the island better then we left it-

it’s just our name- gravestone left blank, shoulda heed the warning.

boring, keep your mouth shut that’s a warning

keep your message to yourself or i’ll put you in mourning-

making peace out of rock paper and bullets

foolish baby shits will cry for a chance

but i took it to push my self to advance

Poetry · Writing

Swazye

point break- Dexter

with the laboratory

whippin’ up a delivery

speedin’ by the outsiders

miles lighter fire starter

burning down the past

find us in the road house

find us making music

dirty dancing

not for a single night

dancing from now

until we’re ghost.

 

Poetry · Writing

2319

seein’ glowin’ in 3D

featuring the place where I wanna be

meeting all the ones that helped me get threw the day

hay-day rolling with the hounds

new found love for the ground

too busy to dig up another mound.

 

can still hear her voice in my head

put down the phone and stop living in your head

made it out- didn’t show up on the feed

news isn’t old just a weak trait

always giving it raw- made straight

you bitches don’t know what it’s like to menstruate.

 

feeding the thieves a loaf a week

there just like us never leaving the weak

geeks chasing the freaks and i’ll be here at the peak.

 

Poetry · Writing

J Landing

woke up

going deep- third and twenty-seven

no pump fake hit it on the deep post.

pick six- six let loose

 

building caught fire- not a breakaway run-

terror.

place in the huddle only broken on command

 

safety valued more than two points

yet here we are: the game is over

we didn’t stick the landing

prayers are shot up like fireworks-

celebrated.

 

will forget tomorrow-

the completed pass- the hit stick- the downed teammate,

it’ll be gone like morning coffee.

Poetry · Writing

Chips & Leno

back in basement:

two jokes and we never left

chips & Leno- where else was there to be

nothing else is open

they remember our faces

plastered on fences and bricks

we’re safe here-

free of death below and the roof above

free of the life we won’t achieve

free of the freedom.

 

Eubanks is still killin’ it

its Prime Time-

Poetry · Writing

Experience

I couldn’t remember

last time I wasn’t afraid

of not being hurt.

dropping the life line

running out into the suns

ray bans down

Feeling the light move around available skin.

Deleting the call log

mossy groves filled with lion roar

of hesitation.

The sun melts it away with no

warning– moving side to side

flossin’.

Poetry · Writing

pausing the tunes

would you like a shake with those fries

fried a bigger order

now I’m out-of-order, pause.

too many request and we’re overloadin’

floatin’ (floatin’), what’s the motive?

eyes are getting wider

and the chase is getting longer

but your lies are getting stronger,

bet(bet).

 

living like a king without a castle

blocked out the window not worth the hassle

master the lane- controlling the vision

warding the means- won’t catch me fishin’

quit talking your shit and listen:

 

feeling a little depressed

dealing with your stress

moving the tides and sinkin’ in ya dress

and will leave it a mess,

test(test).

 

 

 

Poetry · Writing

a few down the road

two years down the line-

I don’t know where I’ll be.

 

few chances will pass me by

let it slide, making moves and passerby.

 

the loyal ones still riding close

bike seat and shotgun to the right

 

fight until death.

do us part-

 

still riding out

twin sister and balance.

 

never worried we’d make it

rocky launch and smooth sailing-

 

never failing- stopped delaying

embracing a life three years back

 

I’d given up and given it back,

facts.