Salt and Mud

You left me stranded

So I drowned in
Gun fire, Jack Daniels
And 40oz”s

Drama, flying saucers
Bullets lost in
brick walls

Lodged

In house furniture
Sold out slugs

Copper tops tree top
Pirus

Cookie cutters

My Dimu called
Them bookie
Butters

Like he
Had a speech
Impediment

Thats just Blood
edicate

Raised hell
A bit

To intelligent

In a cell a bit

Letters never
Sent never
Touched

like
They were
Celabate

You
Never sent
A letter back

The child
That was once
Beaten blue

Brused for
For nothing

By you

Clutching a belt
Shaped as a “U”

Ungrateful
And unfaithful like
Samson

So

I stay absent

Like you

Attached

Mentalities relapsed+

Bloody scars that painted my
Knuckle+

War paint
Cuddles my face
I’m black and I’m
Proud+

From the
Feet to the root canal+

A tramatic opposite+

I linger in blank expression+

Eyes wide open+

without
No type of emotions+

Poker face here+

Not bluffing+

No room for let downs or
believing in something+

my
Own mental distruction+

Nothing+

It’s nothing+

Living in hell I’m use to the most, beautiful, rotton+

Sweet sorrows+

I Embraced
The reason its not to be chased+

The heathen+

Where The Grown leaks

Boyyy!

It’s some secrets in that
Grass filled nut cluster.
Only place in the City
With those many agonising.
Fuss over those plasma gases,
Erupting. The remaining broken
dreams. I’m sorry……….

For all those secrets to
Whom I was a major resident…
Of…

Seen more and, more broken
Dreams piled up in my memories…
I’m sorry…

I’m sorry that I had no compassion.
Iron wounds room, rounds, half fumigated.
can still smell the faces. The secrets…
Dribbled to dabbled.
From some grapes to raisins….

From Billboards new state
where some secrets were staged..
Loved ones missing days.
Months of sleep.

Imagine how that hard dirt felt
Keep secrets yet… Only
Those of them became worthy. the grounds creepier states… Of mind…

No capability, lack there
Of Santa’s gifts.
So many secrets
Sooooo so many secrets
That those dirty dandelions
Wanted to tell…

Even if those ugly weeds
could…

They’d become a secret to…
One of a promised action
Without the need for
Currency.

Sooo many secrets in my
Dreams!  They’ll Rome forever.
I’m good at keeping
Our giant show time secrets
for you….

No matter what…

Vanished!

To Audition For Solar Energy

Potential
Increased
Slight
showers
Down
On this
QUEEN..
Down to Her
sunshine..
I..
Am..
Forced
To yield..
From
the brightest..
Gleam..
And
Into the flames..
Of lightning..
My eyes from
Behind my
Eyes lids..
Snatched
Them quickly
Blinded..
I’m not afraid..
To touch
The polit
Light..
The
enticing
sun’s
beauty…
The rays have
Grazed my
endorphins..
Till I’m
Fully
engulfed in
Her smile..
Nope..
No choices..
A wild
fires a
forming..
A triangular
earth…
My heart
pounding
From the
Hips rotation..
Three
hundred
sixty degree..
Triathlon..
In her eyes
My Words are
trapped..
Not..
Gone..
On contact..
No preservatives..
Fresh..
Organic..
Resurrection..
Savory..
Insightful..
Stifles..
My..
Perceptions..
her minds..
Unsaid Times..
I’m upset
Dying to..
See one last
Smile..
past in
My dirrection..

Shea Butter

My intro wore your body

out like the latest

fashions…

Capsules in tattoos,

Brain washed by

Someone so called taboo…

Someone I
Spy, that’s brown
Skin through
My glasses…

Crowned by

Your influence,

To Shine gold sunz

over me…

Jewel of the

Smile only

motivates

My Integrity…

Lables of silk

Stampede all
Over your figure…

I figured out,

If I stay on your

Heels, then

You will make
One man…

The fool of all
That is real…

Untied, tounge

Out like unlaced

Sneakers…

Funny that I,

Peep us, more

Then you could
Ever…

I can write

A courious

About
My Visions on
Loop…

Yet, visions can

Be very scary
When you can see
Beyond the future…

The truth…

On self, I pray that I
Don’t place a
betting…
chance

With a Russian

Rulete mind

Frame…

For I know, that at

At the end, I’d

Be the one shot
In the head…

With no chances

Of surviving…

When love at first

Write, is a pen
On paper.

Out of control.

The odds of me

Surviving Having

A hole in my

Head.

Is a metaphor

For trying to find

A soulmate

that will

Never end.

Without us…….

Oh No’s

I can honestly say that.
I’m seriously indecisive.

Yet,
when I fully commit to
something or someone.
it can become a crisis.
The hardest critic is myself.
Yes it’s true.

Various mental issues
that plague my view.
Getting Tangled in past unpaid
Dues.

I’m realising that the same
People who try instilling positivity.
Are Condoning these new ways.
To be offended By people. Who don’t understand there offending you.

Fuck! I’m tired!
Fuck you and ya mama!
I can’t stand humans and there
phony mottos to live by but won’t
Die by what there trying to
Live for.

Falsified explanations.. excuses why not to do this Or say that.
Why not to believe in this or that.
The blind lead the blind mah’ fucka!
Don’t you believe in that.

Just because it sounds like it’s true don’t mean that it’s right.
Like being in a relationship and your partner believes. Every
Thing they single friend says is right.

Right?!
Bitch Wrong!
I’m so far beyond your
comprehension that.
I already know the shit y’all be on.
Next time I take advice. It will be
from the earth, not a pilgrim.

What lives matter?
Shut the fuck up!
Those white folk had
Me facing 40yrs plus! for defending
Myself!

Shut up!
Let me finish!
I say this right here!
I “Mr Thomas” solidly, solemnly swear I will never write about
Love and old love affairs.
Till the earth burns on its axis and explodes. from
Global warming ignored.

Atlest I know I wont be the only
Person to burn in a hell. Ain’t no
Self-defense laws for negros.
For the record………
Fuck you all I’m already dead!
Lol!
Fuck the love you know
If it’s true love you never had.

Life….. Or…… Death…..

Smelling Salts

Just give me a dose

So I don’t overdose

Forget it

Let me comatose

Crochet my fingers into a rope

Mind locked its self behind the door

So how can I get out

Let me win

I’m stuck

Throw the sheets over my only motive to live

Give me a dose

So I don’t overdose

The mind says overdose instead

Hands shake when

I pick up things

Even a cup to drink

Fabrics drenched in Arabic coffee

Warm

Opposed to hot like I wanted it

I left it sitting on my table for to long

Eyes like rockets fuel burning

Under smoke

Trying to get a taste of a second hand

Slapped away

I don’t want your created pavement

To curl up on anyway

Give me a soft couch Cigarette in my mouth

Comfortable

And a small dose

So I don’t overdose

Stopped searching for the lost lists of me

Indeed I be the unholy

I know it

Sometimes to bold to be told

I have only days to live

Without cancer

I’m the cancer and a council

Of councillors in my surroundings

Funny how I can be a councillor yet, I can’t council me

Can’t nobody

I can’t use myself to cure

What I am

Or nobody

Placad at my face values like valumes

Antipsychotics

Together

Then face my low values

Phrase it to graze on my

Pains immortality

I battle with everything, anybody

People just don’t understand

You couldn’t ever understand a person like

Us

So stop

Persons like me just need

You to not

Just be there to hold

The mental and grow

Pleaded no sympathy

Fractures the light that once to glow

Just listen to me

Whenever I ever

Need the me time to wait for our time

Speak in a small dose

Because to be honest

I’d rather just overdose

Then to be told

I will be ok

Just give me a small dose of

Being there

I Call This Street-Mageddonm Ashes Of Heaven

Cinder blocks tied to my feet. Never ever stopped me. Not once did I ask him. I just delt with the clashing. The long buck ass wild days I spent on the strip. If it was yours yesterday. It was mine now today.

The take over!

The payback!

The black cat that crossed your path leaving a blood bath or jacoozy of unrulely behaviour.

Lawless!

The authorities often sat back in there patrol car seats watching the on going beefs.

Personally…

I didn’t care…

I was a bear…

A simple bear taking nessessitys out of your hands. Know good pair of cards where ever given. So that’s how the ghost was living.

Judge me…

Judge me not…

They were all just crooked cops! They were all just full of knots! All over the heads of there own blue and reds! Automatically dividing them selves! As I sat back in my car…

Or maybe not my car…

I can’t remember…

The pain of picking small splinters from the pictures. I flashed, was some of the sweetest pain felt when the rain drought burned the streets. Setting the grass of violence on fire to purge.

Oh god how I love to see the ashes!

Old memories blow in the chilling wind in November…

Love Is Dead

These are two halves now and it will never be a whole again. Kill us both! Trying in desperation to make things work. The two opposites are just to alike. Truth is…

Splitting hairs before they break off is the most painful in clipping ends. A lot of beer cans and liquor bottles turned upside down in those old times. Empty hearted I think was the name of the liquor.

Not knowing where to start or how to finish anything that you were use to. The truth is the truth. I just wanted to be killed in action. Not knowing that I was already dead. From the heart shaped glass dropped napalm into fractures. Breaking into sad smaller fractions. Sad never evaporated it just stayed lingering.

Pieces of me everywhere to point a thousand fingers. Seeing the darkness in what use to be my reclining chair. Promising myself in the mirror that this will never be repeated again.

I’d rather be killed in a long stand off with federal government agents. Praying…. Asking God to take me away from this pain of this pain.

Slow death and a closed casket please…

 

 

Mak 90

He came from out of the dark ally slowly like Poseidon rising out of the ocean.

He was pushing a baby stroller while the guys were working the corners.

No one paid attention to the man with this baby stroller till he unsheeted his gun from out of the stroller like he was taking out and picking up his new born baby.

The man with the stroller cocked his assault stick back and told those coner workers on the block “every body lay the fuck down!”

The guys on the block all complied with stroller man request. Except for one little piggy that tured and ran off selfishly not thinking of his comrades.

The man with the boom stick got nervous and sprayed them all exept the little piggy that ran off.

Now why would this little piggy run from a big bad wolf.

2/17