I will never finish this poem

the litigation has picked their poison master!

the opiate of the illiterate, unwashed masses has been televised

oh is the addiction strong

season after season

show after show

fresh (and not so fresh) faced

full grown adolescents

pour into audition contests

to be the next great jackass

exhibitionistic behaviors becomes our escapist savior

the light of the stars

searching for our eye

how long is 15 minutes exactly andy?

we will not be satisfied

with what we have

we will not behave appropriately

we will fight and drink

not to mention

lick, suck, fuck and fondle

our way to the top teir trajectory

inching closer to the great green briefcase

as we backstab and strategize

using our friends against themselves

this is the story of what happens

when eight strangers stop being nice

and start being real

when real comprehends to

sending in a audition tape

manufactured moments in life to show the vaguely interesting

twenty minutes of their day

that tape lands you in a house paid for by the media machine

not to mention alcohol and cigarettes

not to furthermore mention a job handily provided

and taped as the wall of niceties crumbles

as the bubble wrap is popped on

freshly wrapped concepts of

american polite,educated society

(news flash: the actual educated polite americans move to europe)

how can we evolve spiritually and politically as a nation

when misery and buffoonery

serve as primary forms of entertainment

colloquium of conglomeration

well sir, if i may use the term loosely,

you've made quite the inconceivable ass of yourself on national television

too bad no one will hire you

being that they've now seen what an alcoholic,

bipolar, spotlight hungry, screaming diva you are

i've got quite the grand idea

why don't you come host a night of binge drinking at my overrated, overpriced nightclub

i mean, it does seem to be the only area you excel at

drinking excessively at trendy hotspots

and we need a boost in business

the ladies will just throw themselves at you

oh where did the educated americans go

(they went to europe)

they're not writing poetry

for poetry in america is dead

at least i still am

for the time that i'm stuck here in the states

maybe i'm writing poetry that decries the same show that i clamor to every wednesday

maybe i got stoned and made some sort of audition tape

hoping to be a sane voice amongst the blithering idiots

or maybe i'm just the animal in hiding

innocent deer nibbling on the grass

cute, elegant, passerby's delight

in a costume getup

wolf in disguise

sarcastic, didactic, a touch oh so flamboyant

seeking to channel his distaste

by abusing the system himself

swinging from brass ring to silver, to cynical star

oh how the self-important have fallen

oh it could be worse

i could be searching for love in all the encrusted places

eight different seasons amounting hundreds of faces

love forced in mere weeks

leads to failed marriage

schedule a new show, and watch them destruct

oh wiat, here's another one

we have some camera film left over!

let's build them back up

do try to arrange a cliffhanger ending

our fall line-up seems a bit soft

show after show give the hopefuls new games

recycle your pawns across the chessboard of fame

schadenfreude is virtue

in half-lives of housewives

as the gossip rags transform our celebrities

our actors, our singers,

and someday you and me

as free entertainment

free market property

reality television obsession

escapist passionate mind fucking sex

you gladly dip your tongue into the mouth of the devil

he beats your compassion

and he rapes your sensibilities

oh but his red pointy cock feels so nice lodged in my tight little ass

your dick-tipped addiction it spirals deeper than his thrust

mind and anus dethroned in channel surfing wanderlust

I WILL NOT ACCEPT YOUR ROD

TO THE ENTRANCE OF MY VIRGIN HOLE

I WILL THINK

I WILL SPEAK

I WILL WRITE

I WILL SING

for the fires of creation

for original detail

alas, the housewife

resolve not as strong as me

she compares her life to the

celebutante, debutante queen

paparazzi captures their

every move so you can digest

your own tedious life

those mundane and obviously unimportant tasks of

caring for children

providing for families

living well within their means

observing the outcome of a dream they never chased

or even had for that matter

until they realized for some reason

they were stuck in such an awful rut

if you wanted it so bad

you should have made your run at it

instead read a book

obtain some knowledge

aside from what so and so wore to the goddamn oscars

get involved with politics

take up a hobby that enhances your mind

as opposed to your thighs

we are lacking

we are losing

i am moving to France

i am disgusted with how we stare

at the ticking time bombs dance

the green gentleman's economic proposal

green leaves

like the grass rose to greet dawn's gentle touch

picked by the discerning eyes of choice

diligent workers from dawn to dusk

but you wouldn't complain much

to the men carrying assault rifles

now would you?

black market nature

underground sanctity

our providers revered yet reviled

they stood on street corners

under the vaguely attentive eyes of law

to provide your nightly fix

pick your poison

don't forget to pay your pied piper

are you supposed to tip the green gentleman

or should your runoff be saved

for the eventual pizza man

an economy shot to hell and back

by cowboy reckless guns

under day messiah

blake in streetlamp lights

a state lies connected yet separate

feels the sting of an actor underprepared for his new role

his only apparent forte seems to be destruction

not a sleeper hit by any means more or less the armchair champion

dividing state lines to collective policies

mr president

oh great harbinger of change and hope

you are ignoring your proverbial cash cow

the udders are sore and aching for attention

you're sitting on a pile of gold

painfully unawares

movie stars and sponsored hedonists

our two favorite obsessions

in a land of moral depravity

walk cash in hand

to dispensary heavens

the weed grew through the cracks

in the pavement system floor

to sedate the minds of millions

with the income amounting in the billion

rising smoke in the senate chambers

happily consumed behind their closed armory doors

narcotic hypocrisy

illegal medications

while the pharmacies are singing their chemical compositions

to recreate the same effects of a sweet tender leaf

adding multiple side effects

unnatural suicidal tendencies

yet litigate nature

to a vilified state

personally i'm much calmer in her arms

cradled well indeed

i float amongst their air and interwebs

connection to intelligent conversations

highly imminent

all transactions final

cash in hand

billions of currency faces

exchanges glances in shadows

we do so love our taxations and representations

represent, no, respect our right to enjoy life

what fast paced life you thrive in

as i slowly strum guitar string

pledging my devotion

stillness is the movement

that my leaf inspires in me

have i slipped through the crack?

fallen between the congressional pavement

has my beautiful rose grown in the ghetto?

take us off the street they scream form outside underfunded building projects

make out trade legit

give us storefront security

and a case of wares

edible and topical

not to mention the smokeables

imagine the possibilities

of a world easily relaxed

no need for our perceived excess

just take your hit

and appreciate the peace in the air

life paced for pleasure

all in all america loves their green gentleman

why not turn the natural leaves into government paper

and ease our social conscience

wolf cloud

nothing is truly as it seems

time loses all meaning

important passages glossed over

lost in the forest of the mind

navigate your minefield

the dark knight waits beyond the courtyard

castle walls not easily scaled

fight him

for this is more than mere dream

do not fear

it will devour you alive

be not pessimistic

floundering beneath the weight of your doubts

let your vibes connect

seek only the positive

i am the wolf

sensitive skin turned to bristling fur

feel past the evil

turn to the calming wind

feel the breeze of the forest

your ancestors will join you

strip to your skins

there is no danger ahead

natural water not artificially purified

rather collected from mother sky

become the bear?

nature has challenged your spirit

bear or deer

force or grace

choose the latter

walkabout

feel the leaves crunch beneath your feet

as paws once again grow long in the sun

feel the fur sprout up from every pore

my once meek mouth now elongated

i am the pack leader

an entourage

a walking gang

call it more brotherhood unto the fang

have we de-evolved

or have we transcended the ethereal plateau

animalistic primal instinct

fell the snowflakes peppering your coat

free and pleased

to roam with ease

the pack

the pride

a unit of brothers

we live together

we die together

laugh

cry

theoreticize

till time's bitter end

a lifetime together

at a momentary glance

we went above the clouds

returned with stone tablets in hand

the clock is melting

and the colors dance as they blend

let the waves roll you about

four unique visions

four unique minds

brothers via distant mothers

bonds unbreakable

forged in stone

we are the proud

all wounds shall heal

as they are forgotten

the waves are cresting now

calm slowly descends upon the sands of time

sand-castle feet to pail-bucket skull

skin flourishes over the red and white

muscle and bone

a rebirth of the mind

in conjunction with the body

baptism by fire

the dancing flames sweetly suckle at the nape of your neck

bask in radiant warmth

positively floating in the air

no filter on our mouths

clear path to our souls

no frills or put on airs

bare bones no sheath

the voice of true self squeezes out from behind eased teeth

this is our connection

our cocoons have been abandoned

we spread our wings together

and fly towards nirvana

blend #54

the lone cigarette butt lies discarded on the floor
an expendable excess
distancing your hangover blues
from painful morning reality
filters flicked with naught a car
discarded cardboard safety
manipulated malleable monster
in the eyes of our collective republic

look closer
peer beyond that cancerous curtain
cigarettes
symbolic
of lifestyles and mindsets
the jet-set trendsetters
to hell-bent rebels
all simply suck their smoke
to the beat of two distinctly different dying drums

filters smashed between anxious thumbs
nihilistic narcissists
no brand of loyalty
simply the cheapest sticks of paper and tobacco
turned to 4 inch sticks of wavering ash
sucked deep into lungs at demon's pace
chain smoked to infinity
cloaked in cancerous perfume
breath of smoke forced from black lungs
like the spitfire speech of an angry tongue
no sunlight can escape her glare
dark lines of sight
no hope for the future
each passing day
yet another torture
she will not let you in
there is no comfort being sought
simply decimating desires
to crush fleeting spirits
steel bars pierce flesh
placed with careful abandon
head to toe decked in black
rips and tears of years of hard living
expose calloused flesh of the street brigade
no proof of daddy's little girl
did he ever speak her name
smoke streams from the cracks
in her teeth
in her soul
she cries out for death
life continues to take it's toll
depression
aggression
mind conceives one as the same
burning filter
gripped firmly
like cash in the hand
burning pain between her fingers
feed fervent fury
builds backbone
she flicks with a purpose
pulling fresh from the pack

let's flip the coin to the lighter side
shall we children of the night?

See the eloquent hipster
outside of the bar of course
cigarette merely an extension
for his flawless sense of self-accomplishment
be it what he's supposedly already seen, and who he has fucked
unwavering optimism
licks the face of uncertain future
hinged on the upcoming contributions
to the popular culture he so effortlessly mocks
living breathing dynamic demographic
future music television talking head personality
cutting his teeth on smoking circle color commentary
preparing for his eventual stardom
some sort of retrospective clip show compilation
let us revel in his jaded musing
sarcastically cynical perspective on childhood delight
nevertheless
effortless in his conglomeration of cool
cigarette smoothly puffed
breaths of smoke punctuating the air of electric conversation
some poor barfly fashionista he snagged
from his barstool soapbox podium
drag indicative of a life lived in calm
two outstretched fingers hold his
mere oral fixation
in latent disdain for consumerist culture of course
but simply ask and he'll tell you where he bought his personality
how does one stretch a square into a rectangle
he's too busy enjoying the thrift store fashionista
cooing lovingly into his ear
hanging onto every word dripping with arrogance
no rush to finish
no need to move quickly
like the rest of us elite
his life revolves around that sultry sensual beat

take his cue
don't let life wreck the mood
enjoy life
enjoy the moment
savor
or brood

With Love

there is something about her eyes
i can't shake the piercing gaze
from my head
to my heart
to my loins
all of me caught in rapture, lust
infinite
intricate
eternal connection
hearts beating in unison
that incomprehensible term
soul mate
maybe there's some truth to the phrase

beauty unfit to rest upon such cheap sheets
as if her elegance makes her hover above the surface
an angel sent to my chambers
skin smooth, silky to the touch
the loving caress of lover's tongues entwined
finger wrapped up in respective hair styles
the kind of styling session that leaves one
with the hair most bedhead aficionados
would break their backs for
the locks of passion
she whispers in my ear
a soft velveteen coo
i am loved
as she is loved
our love has become more than mere physical act
standard turns of phrase transcend to an ethereal plane
our existence refined in the consummation of our love
she is my absolute
she is m blue ribbon, watershed moment
she is the muse in my heart.

For KristEn

the phone is vibrating
with the text of her voice
as i write across state lines
tonight
two lips split symmetrically
coddling fresh lit cigarettes
breath new clouds of hope to the encompassing sky
north set eyes pointed south
at the moon lit sky
somehow i feel
she's looking back
due north
connecting flight from texas, fort worth
same time liftoff Chicago
O'Hare gave us our landing lines
hearts connect and crash in the atmosphere
the words kept safe pinned to chests
now scatter across a five state radius

i do not know her
but oh i beg to differ
yes, our eyes yet to have met
but hearts do not sleep sep'rate

we speak all day
and we dream all night
yet our paths may cross
sweetly beneath the blacklight

i've become caught in her web
ensnared to her vines
yet every brush of rope on my skin
feels just like hers, welcoming me in
tendrils brush against naked lower legs
a fingernail touch for my school boy crush
at my head, my peak, i can hear her
rang clear, soothing cleanse to all my fears
"just embrace this one moment
for at last i have you here"
sweet scent of breath
hers
on nape of mine neck
she captured, both knew,he gave no resist

someday she'll be home
oh i pray soon it comes
the lush scent of her curls
promises mine swoon

one last drag of the cigarette
perched
precariously upon my lips
let this flame extinguish
for a brighter flame burns
between texas and chicago tonight
goodnight

Is it a blog? Is it a poem? maybe a little of both!

Breasts.

I've seen about three hundred breasts
in close to twenty one years of existence
(that's one hundred and fifty pairs, I'm not THAT suave)

mind you, we're speaking in realities here
we haven't even gotten into
my mild porn addiction
or the love of bawdy comedies,
revolving around male, beer-drenched, youthful debauchery
or even better, female debauchery
especially when the ladies in question are
of the attractive persuasion

i mean, let's be serious
who want to see you naked
when you look like Susan Boyle?
but i digress

let us not forget
the wonderful original programming
of our "premium cable television" stations
whether it be comedic, dramatic, or sometimes
"elegantly" pornographic

a slight aside:
to those affiliated with "skinemax" and related programs on other networks
the women yes are beautiful
and the storylines are just as entertaining
as your penetrating counterparts
but when filming simulated insertions
take some pride in your work.
this poor "actress" is vigorously performing fellatio
on the mid-torso area!
spare what little of her dignity remains
and direct her head to the crotch
i don't think that's asking much
just help me suspend my disbelief
but i digress

where was i?
oh yes, premium cable
original programming
where cussing, nudity,
and all the rest that those pesky puritanical censors
attempt to hide from American eyes
are not only allowed
but embedded to the point of nauseum

so let's estimate.
both on and off screen
I've seen five thousand breasts in my lifetime
(once again that's two thousand, five hundred pairs
for those reading who routinely put their trousers on backwards)
and I'm simply lowballing that number folks.
by the time you read this, that number will have increased.

you know, to think of it,
that's quite the staggering number
for twenty one years.
but let's make our one sided conversation
a little more interesting
maybe a little political
let's talk about sexual equality

for the exorbitant amount of tits i have seen
let's compare the amount of cocks i have seen.
I'm actually pretty sure of this number
I'd say I've seen maybe twenty dicks.
in real life.
in my life time.
I went to an all boy's catholic high school
and spent three years of college wasting time in a frat house
there is no scandalous story to be unearthed
sorry ladies.......... and men
i have seen even less on film....
excluding porn.
but then again,
in porn,
there are tits
in direct proximity to the dicks
even though those tits are sometimes outnumbered

(what is America's fascination with group sex anyways?
most of you will never experience it,
and you're better off.
honestly.
it's akin to twister,
but sweatier
and quite slippery as time progresses.
but i digress)

as for television of the non-pornographic sort
i have seen maybe fifteen to twenty pork swords
and yes i am lowballing once again
(oh stop snickering)
this has nothing to do with gay or straight
at least not in the terms of me making this observation
but maybe it does in the eye of the camera


maybe we're being inundated with tits.
i mean it makes sense.
keeping the sexual status quo of course.
the boys grow up to worship sex
not to mention see women as their sexual objects

on the opposite side of the coin
the girls grow up
to think their tits aren't big enough
or whatever nonsense the American media machine
beams into their easily permeable little minds
i mean we have shows
(with tits)
about plastic surgery
(still mostly about showing as much tit on E! as possible)

i mean paris hilton is a celebrity.
and no one really cared who she was until she got "leaked"
onto the internet naked with a cock in her mouth
(which, i add, she sucked with about as much enthusiasm
as her father probably did raising her)

kim kardashian is a celebrity.
pretty much same story
except both her ass and her tits are gigantic
and she showed much more gusto
than her waif-ish blonde counterpart

the girls who were blowing hugh hefner
got their own tv shows
as did the aforementioned useless cum dumpsters
but at least there are barely blurred out tits on "the girls next door"

it's all absolute dreck by the way

anyways back to balls on your television

I'm mildly impressed to say
that I've seen more cocks in the media
in the past few years
probably inspired by the rallying cry of gay rights
in fact it'd probably be 90% if not 100
of the cocks I've seen in the media altogether.
maybe it's that i prefer foreign films,
which pay less attention to American taboo
or that gay rights prominence i touched on earlier
maybe it's tolerance
or maybe the fact that Queer as Folk
is a damn good show

maybe the reason is
Hollywood is still a man's playground
i mean, Sophia Coppola
did leave Bill Murray's man-bits "lost in translation"

maybe equality of the sexes
only truly exists
as an impossibility.

or maybe the cold reality is that
there's nothing remotely attractive about a cock
and a nice happy rack
is a hell of a lot more interesting to look at
and i just wasted your time and mine