it's getting harder and harder to budge.
just a little bit of flesh please?
3.23.2010
3.20.2010
3.20.2010
let's suppose tomorrow will be
better than today
and tomorrow no one you know will die-
and there will be no classes tomorrow
and no time to show up to for work.
tomorrow you're free to do whatever you want-
and the drinks 30 minutes ago won't matter.
the beers and the queers that danced around your forehead
while you stood sober
won't matter one bit.
and the 40 days and 40 nights of no contact and no
pixelated fornication
will be easier than
eating a pint of magic brownies in less than an hour.
and the walls would be painted
and the furniture would be in place
and the tests would be studied for
and you would be able to keep the pace day after day
after day.
it's past midnight and its already tomorrow.
so maybe it's time to look at today.
better than today
and tomorrow no one you know will die-
and there will be no classes tomorrow
and no time to show up to for work.
tomorrow you're free to do whatever you want-
and the drinks 30 minutes ago won't matter.
the beers and the queers that danced around your forehead
while you stood sober
won't matter one bit.
and the 40 days and 40 nights of no contact and no
pixelated fornication
will be easier than
eating a pint of magic brownies in less than an hour.
and the walls would be painted
and the furniture would be in place
and the tests would be studied for
and you would be able to keep the pace day after day
after day.
it's past midnight and its already tomorrow.
so maybe it's time to look at today.
3.17.2010
3.16.2010
leo had a dream the other night-
once he closed his eyes- it was actually during the day
when the sunlight had lost focus on his apartment for a bit
inbetween the hours of work and more work when the
bed had seemed too tempting to turn away.
he didn't quite remember where it began but he remembers his
mother walking down the hallway younger
in a red dress smiling and all of his dreams
are like commercials or movies or the best woody allen film
he can remember though
he's never had a dream in black and white,
that he can remember.
and his mother walked in front of he and his sister who was also younger with short
hair and no kids and no worries and no
debt and the hall was grand and the rug was pure and clean
and the design was intricate and the walls were
white with no scuffs and the lighting technician did an amazing job on this scene
because his mother never looked more becautiful in her
red dress.
and she walked them to the hotel room door
and opened the door and it was such a grand room almost
as grand as that hallway before
and the windows took up an entire wall
nothing but a window and lights on the outside
and the lights of the city were beautiful and bright and
he knew it was paris.
and there were three beds in the room one with
the little mermaid sheets and barbie
and one had no childlike things at all
save for the bright red of one part of the cover or pillow but he
can't really remember.
and he stood in his underwear hairless like an 11 year old boy and his sister stood behind him getting into bed looking like an 8 year old child
and she made fun of his barbie sheets but leo said
"i never had barbie sheets but i did have a sesame street blanket that i don't know
what happened with" and he was right but he
didn't get into bed
and his mother didn't come into the room
but when she closed the door she was smiling and happy
in her red dress and her youthful face and it made leo
not want to wake up and he
stood in front of that large window and looked down
straight down and saw trash and broken cars and a junkyard but he looked
up and out of the window and saw lights and saw
paris
and the lights never seemed to end almost bleeding
together like mercury and creating their
own horizon and some kind of horizontal
patched blanket of man made sun.
and with his black graphic t-shirt and his
underwear on he said down on the floor not taking his
eyes off of the large window and what lay before it
nothing else and no other noise
just a wide shot, a panoramic view of leo holding his left leg up like a child
while his right leg steadied him on the floor looking
out to paris.
once he closed his eyes- it was actually during the day
when the sunlight had lost focus on his apartment for a bit
inbetween the hours of work and more work when the
bed had seemed too tempting to turn away.
he didn't quite remember where it began but he remembers his
mother walking down the hallway younger
in a red dress smiling and all of his dreams
are like commercials or movies or the best woody allen film
he can remember though
he's never had a dream in black and white,
that he can remember.
and his mother walked in front of he and his sister who was also younger with short
hair and no kids and no worries and no
debt and the hall was grand and the rug was pure and clean
and the design was intricate and the walls were
white with no scuffs and the lighting technician did an amazing job on this scene
because his mother never looked more becautiful in her
red dress.
and she walked them to the hotel room door
and opened the door and it was such a grand room almost
as grand as that hallway before
and the windows took up an entire wall
nothing but a window and lights on the outside
and the lights of the city were beautiful and bright and
he knew it was paris.
and there were three beds in the room one with
the little mermaid sheets and barbie
and one had no childlike things at all
save for the bright red of one part of the cover or pillow but he
can't really remember.
and he stood in his underwear hairless like an 11 year old boy and his sister stood behind him getting into bed looking like an 8 year old child
and she made fun of his barbie sheets but leo said
"i never had barbie sheets but i did have a sesame street blanket that i don't know
what happened with" and he was right but he
didn't get into bed
and his mother didn't come into the room
but when she closed the door she was smiling and happy
in her red dress and her youthful face and it made leo
not want to wake up and he
stood in front of that large window and looked down
straight down and saw trash and broken cars and a junkyard but he looked
up and out of the window and saw lights and saw
paris
and the lights never seemed to end almost bleeding
together like mercury and creating their
own horizon and some kind of horizontal
patched blanket of man made sun.
and with his black graphic t-shirt and his
underwear on he said down on the floor not taking his
eyes off of the large window and what lay before it
nothing else and no other noise
just a wide shot, a panoramic view of leo holding his left leg up like a child
while his right leg steadied him on the floor looking
out to paris.
3.15.2010
3.15.2010
too many hours
studying and painting
working.
not enough hours napping
staring at the ceiling
for hours
for no reason.
studying and painting
working.
not enough hours napping
staring at the ceiling
for hours
for no reason.
3.11.2010
3.10.2010
My childhood dying everyday
And all I got is this instrumental
to keep me on the straight,
I make the words-
supposed life makes the beats we tip top
continuously based on those crooked streets.
ust a fundamentally psychotic post memory of a
dream
Nothing seems cool in a recession filled
world.
Trying to live quick and young while trying not to get
burned.
Everybodys working round trying to keep up the focus
Keep your head up
don't depend on that focus.
Nothing ever comes from nothing That's what I've heard.
That's why I can't take a break,
that's why I must fly like i've got wings,
it's just one extra imaginary thing.
No i ain't no queen I'd rather be the eagle, the hawk,
sighting prey, flying down focusing on the people.
i'm gonna change this land, i'm gonna
fit in, then get in
show them that triple consciousness then land
takeover and over again til the end
even when it burns, just shows its continuously growing within,
all they do is tell us why not,
gimme a reason why i should
then maybe i'll think about
stop no don't let me digress,
i might as well regress
i'm already this far i gotta be the best
at school and work and words- this isn't cute,
this is what i do.
this isn't a hobbie, this is life.
i know i look young, but i'm still my fathers son.
and forgive me for lazy when i'm working like crazy
moving for work for family or babies
pushing for school for work then this love game on top i can't become a crazy.
all at the same time and i'm still pushing this?
what do you expect i'm only human in a metaphysical mess
praying to God Jesus Alpha and Omega, Jehovah and the media, it's a constant dream.
hopeing and knowing that it'll all work out my friend.
my enemy my muse, my rival: my cue to
kick my ass into 8th gear, at least i'm semi-automatic, hope the help will last.
maybe that's why you're here-
never know for sure but if i keep the hope in my heart
fuck corny, fuck trendy i must speak what's inside.
been hiding for all these years, conforming to registered lies.
but when i wake up tomorrow what'' be waiting for me?
another bill another doctor, another death in the family?
another baby, another breakdown? another overdraft fee from doing something that i knew i had to do to keep up this so called "responsibility"?
another bigot, another bush another bill o'reilly?
another tea party fuck saying that the president's just a communist populist scally?
what you screaming for? your argument doesn't even exist.
taxation with representation, ya'll just been been resisting common sense.
but i got a pocket full of change coming your way- right in your face- smack it just like
them olden days.
wanna bring back history-
i gotta a HISstory for you- she gotta HERstory, they got THURstory, we got OURstory too.
i wish i could get drunk everynight and sing songs about shit,
live in a culture that praises irony or glitz,
i guess i care too much, but i don't think i wanna change.
cause i'm not the only one with all this shit in my way-
it's never easy when you're born in the vall and the
top of the mountain is just there without a rally to push
you on when you're on your own
no ropes no ladders just your legs and your arms
no massages no men, no women no sun
no water just a mess you're bless with to hopefully
make you stronger.
but when i get to the top better know what i'll do
throw a rope down to that valley to bring those children up
educate not discriminate, one must never be done-
even when i'm dead i'll be the one
listening to lennon.
And all I got is this instrumental
to keep me on the straight,
I make the words-
supposed life makes the beats we tip top
continuously based on those crooked streets.
ust a fundamentally psychotic post memory of a
dream
Nothing seems cool in a recession filled
world.
Trying to live quick and young while trying not to get
burned.
Everybodys working round trying to keep up the focus
Keep your head up
don't depend on that focus.
Nothing ever comes from nothing That's what I've heard.
That's why I can't take a break,
that's why I must fly like i've got wings,
it's just one extra imaginary thing.
No i ain't no queen I'd rather be the eagle, the hawk,
sighting prey, flying down focusing on the people.
i'm gonna change this land, i'm gonna
fit in, then get in
show them that triple consciousness then land
takeover and over again til the end
even when it burns, just shows its continuously growing within,
all they do is tell us why not,
gimme a reason why i should
then maybe i'll think about
stop no don't let me digress,
i might as well regress
i'm already this far i gotta be the best
at school and work and words- this isn't cute,
this is what i do.
this isn't a hobbie, this is life.
i know i look young, but i'm still my fathers son.
and forgive me for lazy when i'm working like crazy
moving for work for family or babies
pushing for school for work then this love game on top i can't become a crazy.
all at the same time and i'm still pushing this?
what do you expect i'm only human in a metaphysical mess
praying to God Jesus Alpha and Omega, Jehovah and the media, it's a constant dream.
hopeing and knowing that it'll all work out my friend.
my enemy my muse, my rival: my cue to
kick my ass into 8th gear, at least i'm semi-automatic, hope the help will last.
maybe that's why you're here-
never know for sure but if i keep the hope in my heart
fuck corny, fuck trendy i must speak what's inside.
been hiding for all these years, conforming to registered lies.
but when i wake up tomorrow what'' be waiting for me?
another bill another doctor, another death in the family?
another baby, another breakdown? another overdraft fee from doing something that i knew i had to do to keep up this so called "responsibility"?
another bigot, another bush another bill o'reilly?
another tea party fuck saying that the president's just a communist populist scally?
what you screaming for? your argument doesn't even exist.
taxation with representation, ya'll just been been resisting common sense.
but i got a pocket full of change coming your way- right in your face- smack it just like
them olden days.
wanna bring back history-
i gotta a HISstory for you- she gotta HERstory, they got THURstory, we got OURstory too.
i wish i could get drunk everynight and sing songs about shit,
live in a culture that praises irony or glitz,
i guess i care too much, but i don't think i wanna change.
cause i'm not the only one with all this shit in my way-
it's never easy when you're born in the vall and the
top of the mountain is just there without a rally to push
you on when you're on your own
no ropes no ladders just your legs and your arms
no massages no men, no women no sun
no water just a mess you're bless with to hopefully
make you stronger.
but when i get to the top better know what i'll do
throw a rope down to that valley to bring those children up
educate not discriminate, one must never be done-
even when i'm dead i'll be the one
listening to lennon.
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