Love Junkie

Can you feel it?
The slow pulse,
The gathering pressure,
Steadily building for the burst and afterwards?


You know it’s a potent drug right?!
Please! Tell me you know you’re a drug love??!!!!

Cause of you, meeting my first girlfirend was
2pm banging on my dealers house
Hoping he had a dime bag left
Talking to my fifth babe was
Peeling, unfolding, emptying,
Then rolling that green in greedy anticipation
And our first kisses?
Reminiscent of my very first puff
Since I held the scent of you, I’ve never wanted to exhale

I’ve always wanted you in me,
Couldn’t quite enjoy the wait
As I, carefully and systematically pulled the leaves off your cactus
Wanting nothing but your LOUD cannabis
You got an abundance of gifts to give
And I’m glad to receive all you were meant to give
Every moment provides many a woman to share you with
And I would gladly go halves on your natural feel
Willingly split your “don’t give a flauck” feeling down the middle with someone worthy


Love! Can I call you Jane?
Yes, no, maybe?
You amplified my flesh,
Added what was missing to my life
Opened my eyes and showed me how vivid and beautiful ugly could be
Charged my perception, reflected my true reflection
Your Christmas trees, reminds me of angel hairs on fire, such an orange burn, I love your glow
How you burn soft and slow, a delicious neon
Unravel your spindly corpse as I put my lips on yours,
Take off your flesh and Let us climb intimacy and birth the death of me
Make a paper plane joint of my bones, a bong off my skull
A cigarillo of my skin and a bloody red dawn of my eyes
And while you have my spirit flung high in the sky
Don’t let go, don’t grow old and ripe for a break up
Don’t you know I enjoy your high???

Yo, seriously, a pull of your smog…
A pull of your smog was all I ever needed to become your junkie
At age fourteen I met this girl
She could make my heart race
Paved an introducing lane to your seedless grace
Since that age, this seed in a pot, shot from its bud, and grew to be your hemp slave,
I need you
Even though you’ve bruised me
Many more times than I care to remember
I know that nothing is perfect
One day, will find the one and will O.D together

Signed your chronic love junkie

Dear Ex Girlfriend

Dear Ex Girlfriend
I dare to hope that this poem
Will someday reach your ears
Cause you’re no longer here
I know you’re where you want to be
...But it’s hard for me to forget you
When everything around me
Reminds me,
That you were once so close I could draw you near
That I could grasp your face
While I fondled your hair
The air sizzled of your blood scent and I scarcely cared
Cause then, I could grasped you harder than you held my gaze
Now these days all I have are your apathetic memories
You were magic made flesh, but even miracles fade
when our friends and family ask “what happened to us”
I’ll tell them my version of the truth
I’ll tell them that you named my love not good enough
I’ll tell them, I never knew what pain was
Till your skeleton fingers clinched heart
Ripped it in two, folded the pieces and ripped it twice more
As if my heart was made from paper cups,
Plate, pieces of garbage and everything you hate
you broke me like brittle glass
Made salt and water of my feelings
Took notice of my flaws and exposed it to the world
If I ever decide to one day love you again
I’ll remember how the day you broke me felt
Find a cliff high enough to tease the sky
With a gorgeous view and a dismantling drop that promises painless death
And I promise this, I’ll throw myself facedown
Meaning, I’m not that stupid to once more think you beautiful
Nevertheless, you taught me truth was naïve and I could bend it to my will
You showed me how to lie even when my tongue refused to help
You gifted me with heavy lids, taunting nights and misery
You set me down in your class,
Shoved apologies and the sorriest sorries down my throat
Read then fed me anecdotes that I swallowed too scared of the loneliness
But today I know, because of you
I know what remorse really means, it means
“Damn I got caught give me a second chance to cheat and perfect my technique”
It means “well I like having you when I can;
You’re breathing human vibrator when I can’t land a 10 inch trick”
I don’t know how we got here, but we’re from were I’m standing
And the way I see it the only way to live with a broken heart
Is to love like a dick so I won’t get hurt like a bitch
Here’s to hoping that one day,
These kissed goodbyes you left tattooed on my back will fade with you
But till then I pray, I pray you never find joy
That you taste of the poisoned potion and ruin you made of me
Those men you always wanted will sex you like a pistol with one bullet in it:
Only good for one round and one night…..
Do not ask that I forgive you
Beg that I can forgive myself for ever saying hello

Warrior a la mode

Catch me at battlefield you bunch of killjoys
You dream assassins
Cursed entities
I’ll be ready!
Ready for anything you’ve prepared
The slander, the lies, the oh so not hushed whispers
The handshakes and middlefingers
The hugs that lead to a knife in my back
And the sweet loved churned sour
I’ll be ready for it all!
I got a fist full of grenades
And four utility belts
Each containing uniquely sharp and slaughter ready gadgets
Some of them are shrapnel filled,
All wrapped in container, explosive like Chinese new years
But I love to save those till the end
When you least expect it, I’ll be there
In the shadow of a shadow watching your shadow
Well hidden, silent in stealth,
Bloodlust in check, just about to leak from every pore of my being
I swear, if you ever thought you were safe
I’ll make sure to denounce your reassurance
So catch me at a battlefield
You bunch of killjoys
You gargoyles of disappointment
You mauled souls bleeding fetid resentment
I welcome you into open arms
Come meet me!
Come meet death

Accident Prone

Convulsing
…..again
Struggling to let go....

There is no pretty to how my back spasms from the wreck
How it wishes to not feel anything like an accident
Memories slither up and down my spine
up and down
down and up
all ocean smashing the beach
all non stop roller coaster
Finally, it decides to scale up my back and settle in shoulders
Made a house in my neck; I feel it in the cricks
In the wrenches and pulls
Yesterday, I picked another piece of glass out my hair
I’m used to this, it’s just like flossing!
Getting meat out teeth! Getting glass out hair!
….getting windshield and windows out bed
These days, I punish my gut at erratic times
It knows what to expect, anticipates it even
I’ve thought it how to speak alcohol
How to bear it all,
How to soak my brain, and sultry swirl the pain away
Everything is crack
Everything is flash backs
Everything is January 31st

The night, and all it has

When the night is as cloudy as my, rough
Bloated and bulging heart,
And the skyline is a dirty black pool, the color of subconscious
you should ask of me,
In all likelihood you'll be told that I was last seen
On main street
They'll say I had a look that screamed determination,
They'll say I was a giant gargoyle
Only able to came alive in the night time,
they'll remember how I walked into this packed house, 4 cornered room full of beautiful souls,
Fluttering too fast for the eyes to see
shining too free to be caged by any sort of manmade wall,
these people are gorgeous fireflies tonight,
And I see them how I've always wanted to be seen.
Conscious and smart, prickly pizzazz partly off point
Like a badly healed joint or a crooked rolled joint but swagged all the way out.
Tonight's just like them,
Young, not yet reeking of alcohol, or sex or crimes,
And we? We’re at the word, and I? I’ve missed four poems driving here
And one more trying to park my car so,
Excuse me for my lateness,
I know that coming in an hour late isn’t right
And I do have a watch that ticks millisecond exact, but art,
Just like greatness can never be rushed,
And I'm a bit of both so I'm just in time,
Ready to take standing stance in front of a cheap Mic stand
ready to go in,
As if I'm better than anyone
As if I'm the only one,
who has the ability, to plant poems
Between the cracks and crevices of your heart and soul.
On nights like this not even my reflection is mirror enough to be my competition
And so it begins with a breath to wet the drum set I have for lungs
I approach the Mic,
The Mic is like my pops and he pops like the fourth of July
My Legs twitch like a spaz
Robotic in its movements
Look hard enough, when emotion rips breath from my lungs
you can see my gut and my guts spilling out my mouth
And my voice is made of five heavy metal nails scratching my sycamore voice box
The effect is of an anxious vinyl rewinding the growth of my manliness
How it breaks the days I’ve lived,
And goes back to before puberty ever scoured this body
I look nothing like my 22 years of age and sound free of regret and pain
And while all this is going on,
My body sweats slippery slivers down my shirt
so while I gesture and move my hands like I'm tied to a marionettes string,
With a voodoo priestess yanking in glee, know
That it's not because I'm animated its cause I'm trying to air dry myself.
Most nights,
just like this one, when the stars treat the moon like a campfire and dance all around it
you can find me, with a faded black book in hand
Filled with half finished,
Most times worthless pieces of scribbles,
Writing so jumbled, messy, and tumbled, even I can't make sense of it.
This jig saw puzzle of a book is the key,
To everything that is me,
Everything locked within
Everything my father told me I could be
And everything the world stole from me
So if you don’t mind how spit drips from my lips when I spit
Then I got a thousand truths to tell
How I drape social identity crisis over my body like a Kevlar vest
How I keep two hearts in my back pockets, in case the one in chest stops beating
How I miss my father and brothers, love my sisters and mother
How I wish, I wish that sometimes we never left home
On days like this, when the night’s as cloudy as my, rough
Bloated and bulging heart,
And the skyline’s a dirty black pool, the color of subconscious
Receive my poetry; take it out the door with you
And let it marinate, like a wildfire in California

Unbearable

I'm ashamed to admit that
From the moment my eyeballs
Began to follow your swaying curves
I’ve been whipped, smitten.
I think its lust,
But I’m holding onto hope like a rope
Or a sweaty hand that this “lust” can somehow turn to love
But this rope, this sweaty hand is too sleek and I’m slowly slipping.

You’re like a bear trap,
The moment I stepped into these doors
You sprang shut on my heart
And now I’m stuck,
Damn near lost without you
And you don’t even know….

You have a boyfriend
He reminds me of Brad Pitt
In the rendition of Helen of Troy
The way he looks at you with love
But is ready to kill with skill any who happens on his path
You make love and hate waltz in his fragile heart
Fill the void in his soul,
Your hugs, a human wine cork,
after his drank enough of your kisses.
I’ve witnessed darkness disappear when you’re near
Seen him leaking light as colorful as a Nigerian afternoon

The same man as hard as Gatling gun becomes as giddy as a giggling girl
But it’s not that rattling…..
Cause he loves you, and it shows
He loves you, and I hate it

I wish; I wish he was one of those boyfriends
that exist everywhere these days
Those boyfriends who never love
Who fashion cloaks of masculinity in which they wrap themselves in
as if it was the mother they never had
Who sag their pants, on their way to get an ice cream cone or a butterfly tattooed on their face
Who didn’t believe in putting all their eggs in one basket
valentines, chivalry or the art of wine and dine
I wish he didn’t know how to love a woman
I for one could have lived without knowing
His got an ak-47 for equipment
And enough artillery in his gallery to quench any fire
God forgive me for coveting my neighbors girl,
but they aren’t even married yet
So I wish his mother wasn’t a woman
That his father was married a transvestite man
i.e I wish he was never born

I wish he wasn’t so got damned beautiful
perfect fuck!
I wish you were a tool

I wish, you didn’t wipe her tears when they fell, heavy and long
I wish you never gave her your heart and body,
i wish....

But wishes aren’t airplanes
no matter what the song says

I’m not a hater, It’s just that,
I see the beauty of love, and how it was made to be
And I want that, I want that affection, that care.
So dear boyfriend,
If you ever make a mistake,
If you ever break, fumble, or misplace her
I’ll pick it her up like a cellphone
And she would be one package I’ll never return back to sender

For your Valentine

Late Last night, I started to write about us
It took me, a thousand forgotten minutes
A lot of ink and enough loose leafed paper to recreate a young maple tree,
to come to the conclusion, that coming up with the perfect opening
ro this poem isn’t damn near impossible, it’s just not likely
So I said forget that, instead,
I’ll take my time and work on the body of this poem
Construct its bones into a place of worship, a temple,
Where I can sacrifice my words without fear of being crucified
This temple, shall sometimes be my bed,
at other times a stage somewhere in California
Either way, it shall be Strong and steady,
Unaffected by the willful passage of time
But flexible enough,
To let me carve out, what I want this poem to eventually be

I want this poem to make an attempt
To try, and show, to sketch, and narrate,
Outline, and portray, to depict
Make clear, make vivid, make out, and expound on what it is we are
We are this poem,
And I want it, to be honest in its telling
Let it speak on how we met,
Two quasi complete halves merging like the sun and the moon
You half empty, I half full
When we met in the middle,
I became as observable as the blistering blooming blush dancing festivals in my cheeks
A parade of devilish flames made to blaze when I gaze at you,
See how I gaze at you
See how the flames tinge my hue
Let them burn me to cremation if they must
Turn me crimson if they can, but I won’t take my eyes from you
For red is the color of valentine casted like a net,
Its iron grip, pulling the strings of my heart
Makes hanging look like fun
Red is the color of ripe love ready to fall from a back bent herculean flower
When it hits the ground, it heals wounds, balms scars, fixes scowls and much more
Red is the pedestal I stand on, brave and consciously making a fool of myself to keep you smiling
So red I’m rosy so rosy I’m rouge, so rouge even bleach couldn’t fade me
Wear red like a scarlet beacon,
A miniature lighthouse so I can always find my way to back to you
But also, let it be my brand so no other man thinks you single

So I hope, No, I do more than hope, I pray that I won’t ever be able
To call this poem complete; won’t be able to lay my pen in rest filled peaceful sleep so close to death it’s comatose,
I hope this poem transforms into a never ending piece of literature
Conceiving back stories, and miniseries, so raw its cut from t.v
So watered down kids think we’re cool
Tell me if it’s cool, if I nail and hammer the days I’ve shared with you on my tongue
So that when I speak, it would only be of moments I spent with you
My taste buds are tiny time capsules where I retain the memory of your kisses
In the carven of my mouth,
So if one day, I lose my phone and all the pictures it contains of you
If one day, time, robs me of my touch, and amnesia takes our love
I would still be able to lick my lips,
and bring back the first time we met,
and the last time you left
Ps.
Your should know, your love is a second chance for me to breathe again

2-8-11 5:07am