To Sock a Cucumbers


Life is a scrimmage
Getting ready to pull
Out….

pop! pop! pop!
Tendencies!

Non stop!

How to shoot
Then lay low from!

Your brutality!

Like hiding a stain
On gradma couch…

You cant!

You know
She going to
Find it!

As you do!

The word already
Got out!

For the law to
Come get you!

You better hope
They find you…

Before the streets
Do!

Your shoes
In the dumpster…

What did your
feet do!

Your crew is
a qazine
Best served
With
Info…

Ya…

Your real
thorough…

So you stand on
Your ten
toes comfortable!

Remember
You will always
Reap!

The sewing
Machines of
Other Dumbfounders
Like you!

Found when!

Family can’t
Guide you
Or hide you!

You’ve
Broken the very
Definition of…

what
It means to
be a real gangster…

For one…

Family always
Comes first!

You run to help
Your community
To breath!

Those in need!

Don’t take from
Someone doing
Just as bad as
you!

If you going
To do it…

Steal from
The system’s
Branch corporate
theives!

Ain’t no honors
Amongst black
theives!

Any theives!

Come together like
Gum under your
shoes…

You broken the
Rules…

Roc a bye baby…

There was no soon
For you…

Black Merc 0202-0-16

Lately I’ve been

drifting.

My old structure

of strict militant ways.

Don’t know how

long before.

I’ll be consumed

by the flames.

The past be the

past.

Glued stuck to my frustrated

psyche.

Being bound to

something worst.

Confused that sometimes

the worst deeds can set you

Free.

Mind filthy, rotting away off

The bones of my

decaying last good memories.

Life’s snap shots of

seconds of smiles and laughter.

Then Jokes become

sloppy.

The laughter becomes

annoying.

Reality kicks into

Dissipated smiles.

The heart is distantly

colder like a halleys Comet.

As I rapidly forget short

Small numbers and sentences.

I won’t die…

I’m dieing slowly along

the way.

Experiencing that first hand

failure to control crashing

Into ashes.

Warped feelings overdosed, lusting

for violence and gun powdery

children’s cereal.

Maybe inching instantly

towards a whole

solid insanity plea.

Watching humans devour there

nurturers and there nurtured.

A thick book deal guide through

corruption, scams,

set ups and confusion.

More and more I

Aggressively drift back

into that.

Predictably same facial

expression that never changes.

No matter the emotion, excitement

Happyness of whatever

Joy is.

My face will always look

The exact same.

My face stays stuck trying

to comprehend.

Why everyone looks

at me like I’m a stone.

Maybe I am one to

Think of.

I fail the try outs…

Then become more

upset that I pathetically try to hard.

Or is just never close

To enough.

All humans are born with

A heart’s worth of emotions.

Yes that is fact…

What do you call a human

That has to program there self to?

Feel it….

Or know when to receive it…

Reciprocate it in a way to

Trust the other.

Note that it’s not always

Out to break you or kill you.

From the inside out…

I feel less and less emotions

like when I was younger.

My emotions are plumiting

Stocks all over again.

A very bad investment…

Back to who I was not

supposed to been.

The rebirth of chaos is

about to began.

I can feel it..

It’s me…

I am chaos…

The second coming…

Is on the way…

Free Us…

So we will be one with our former self…

The form of a poker face…

Dead from With in…

The Black Mercury……..

For Normalization

Bear with me…

I was never good with
Words. That’s why I
Barely spoken.

I knew what i wanted
To say. Then when my mouth
Opened. The words
Came out persecuted by contradiction.

I just want to be…

I’m not… I never will
Understand my ways
Or how I feel. Split
Personality, so we
Just talk to each other.
I know if I talk to myself
No one would make fun
Of or judge him….

Me…

You see…

I know this makes no
Sense. I forget numbers,
Dates, small things.
I struggle….
Every address I lived
I can only remember one of the numbers.

Bear with me…

I know I don’t make sense…

So frustrated, embracing,
Alone, sad, madness. All the
Sorrows with titles. Quotes
Like Scripture from the bible.

King James…

I’d rather gaze into
80 percent of the
Quran.

Maybe someone linked to a prophet…

Maybe a May bee sweating over honey.

I picked up a gun
Before a book. Didn’t
Learn to read till I was a
adult.

All praise due to
The Almighty. Blessing
Me with a paper and pen.
Yet they still don’t here me.
Like they never understood
me then…

They say I speak in
Riddles soo…

Riddle me this…

Decode my words!
Behold the thought!
When teeth don’t show!
That means my pen
Will be a tattoo needle for
Exposure!

My woes will be jotted!
You could snort them
In lines then!

Try to..

Bear with the two headed
Viper crying! Some
Thoughts crippled
Till my mind has delayed
Then deleted!

All I ask is for you to bear with me…

Believe it……..

See You Soon When I Get Out

A nest of crest white. Tight like a closed window sill. Don’t even bother! I have no daughter! Crept down with the baby concealed. Cradling it like a good mother and father.

The last of the mustard gas chuckers. The ones that turned me into a soda.

With one pop! sssssssss!

Making you clench your jaws strong muscles after the first sip!

Empty clips that hang like commas!

You!

Body in the middle of the system. Dont get caught with it in possession.

Its 9/tenths…

A rude and loud seperation. Gargling gasoline in the mouth. Spitting it out on the grass drought…

Fire!

I’m the last one to doubt!

Bitter slow torture!

The feelings I get in my curcomfrence when strangers are near it.

This zone!

I don’t own!

You fool me never!

I took you and crushed you like a pain pill under a credit card. Separating,  snorting poverty off the end of the cities deficit.

Pain so strong I don’t even feel the raw. My nose bled all over my paper sheets.

Whatever!

They my sheets of paper!

Uncorrected!

Damn!

Corrected isn’t the word I herd! It was correctional facilitie! Incorrect is a burden strangling the life out of my misguided broken litteriture.

The finisher!

I snatched the knife from your hand! Remember…. Cutting diagonally in to my tendons… Now I can’t even make a full fist! Didn’t stop me from being unable to fight for what’s right.

Still I never forfeit from my reality. A puppets nature of this staged play…

Lights…

Camera…

Action!

Then I revealed my true accent!

The last conference I seen you at.  Left turn.. You ended up down The low ends instead. I was born and bread to wear red!

So where you…

Past…

Tence…

I’ll see you soon…