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Hopi-ng: The Way of Life that Baths the Soul [09 Jan 2009|12:58am]

The scatter black past tip-toes redundance
echoing in the ears of the tentative listener
unwillingly affixed in the eye of the sound.

I am a blazing son within the wrath of a fiery matriach;
she is circumference,
a tumultuous rhythm of reversly-charged enjoyment,
the negative inference,
the concrete societal pulse,
that primordial embedded culture-prison,
that evasive lure illogic-prism.

Seeds are dusted off for growth
(the evolution from extraction)
thus, a grain of hope,
as frail as threads of spider webs,
is endowed to one last shred
of mating sun to watered rope...

"Grow little one, grow and give us life again."

The lifeless chap of Earth
enslaved by current's breath
utters movement from its lips
as vague and dry as its arid counter-wind.

They dance with Kachina masks
Feel the whip of the solar singe
flex their feet to the sounds of drums
and feed themselves to the skies;
they pray for rain.

They are the vacant,
the 'cease to exist' without the merge,
for to germinate with rot
they are the plan that happens not,
the heat that burns the spot,
the ever-ending plot,
diminished from the lot of light,
without the water to fuse the fight -- for life.

I meditate holding the reach of Art
washing in the silver-white;
my eyes reflect with closed skin;
I swallow the pride of my yin-generant source
afflicted with the grief
of what has not, exactly, the power to change
but the power to destory within.

Her mind embeds and mates with my beliefs;
finally, she is patience, shallow breaths retained,
deep focused thoughts of centered-frame;
she is hearing the words I uttered many times
for the first time.
I slow to vocalize the pace of softness,
steadiness, and halcyon-logic:

"I am a man encircled by the gates of Hell;
they stand to criticize my loss of self
that which cleansed itself, I did, of gain:
the fall of greedsome-clutch of Pater's rein.

I shuddered once in view of they;
the longing ones who claimed the rain,
galvanized by the finite drops
whose current yields the life of day.

And here I sit,
a palm annexed to my stark surroundings,
ear to nano-tones of stress
perplexed in what I should arrest,
your sanction of attempts
to mar the mind against the truth
of which entails and runs the risk, 
the proof our lives should not exist
in fashions like the one that sticks -- to failure,
depletes the rest of even ration,
shrouds the world in droughts, in floods...
to leaves those starved and kissed by death...

how could you complain while gravity insists to press?
Though we might abide with this sufferable acquisition, truly,
we are imagining this plight for light, the waste, or wait for liquid life;
we are the light of closed eyes projected
tunneled through the psychic spectrums...
we are in need of what was once,
to return to that which was and is
the true and better part of bliss."
She warms.

I press the button,
end the pitch,
settle down in my success,
lay down,
 and listen to the hum of hearts parade to the beat of the sun.

They dance with Kachina masks
and feel the whip of the solar singe,
flexing their feet to the sounds of drums,
feeding themselves to the skies;
  They pray for rain.

show yourself

Post Endeavor [29 Dec 2008|12:40am]

The diamond range invasion,
to lose the taste
and follow suit, follow mute,
duplicate, devolve, convert
duplicate, devolve, convert.
The Truth
[erase -- scribble -- erased: result: the -rut--]: repeat, repeating...

Reticent -- lodestar -- Revolution:
The causal space between
pushing past down pasty buds,
the oral-purse coerced
swallowing the rancid dust
of love -- raped --
the moldy -- rush --
to find the breath
desist the -- rust --
breathe! Breathing...

defined, defaced
holding on -- retention-based -- going forth
The iridescence void:
black chalk-like greys,
swirls that insist, engulf,
melting like a lush kiss, mouth,
hanging on me like a wet cyst:
the post-operative-synthetic bliss:
the cynic-tallied-synthesis.

Smoking tensions of release
hanging on the rind of transpiring timelines,
bold depths of voyage, travels traveling...

the quintessential parity:
the inevitable laugh,
the universal sense of humor
paralyzing vats of Stock-Up-On-My-Money-Inc. brats -- finally -- Justice?
...for now...

Waving in
The 1:1
meet-Her, meet-Him scale
echoing retrospect off human-perimeter-antennae
[My] nuclei-transmitting syndeses: 
Attracting operatically, hopefully,
The one...

Barring sanity,
basking the world in fundamentalistic hebetude,
banishing Impious Art,
watching the individualistic source
obviate into stressed out, studdering frames of talltales,
tipped, bursting toward the brink,
a normalcy distinct, impunity antiqued,
a rebel in his sleep, imprisoned

The Disturb's Advance:
The Air-filled cavitiess of talking heads,
nodding to resurface
the Pedestal of Power,
the havocing Towers
concaving entirety
 -- the Mortgage -- Reality
 adjacent and living
alongside the giving
and cases of gravid containment.
"Give rise to 'Atlantic Diplomacy'"
and watch the spitting-image city sink again.

Well, well, well, eye  ms  b  da  lus  knkshn
spiraling into a loose continuity of fibrous contingents
of heart-throb-intangibilities, impossiblities?
The donning spirit
blown inside without
breathing in, the Doubt, deepens
and provokes stability
with waning virility
unveiling the bold contusions.

Holding on to what is left...
but alas -- it was to be --
the bisk chipped and eroding clean
to reveal
the ending wheel
unable to be healed...

the wine and dine
the 'what is left'
the how to do, undo,
the blame & who
to take the rake...

to lose the taste,
the diamond range,
the cure, escaped
the placid take
on our one... cosmic... global...
show yourself

Capricious Raven-Departure [29 Dec 2008|12:39am]

[ mood | cynical ]

Post modern synthetic bliss
Attaching one arm around my hip,
Tapping to appall
bleak imcumbent myths,
On the surface of my conscience-byssus,
 -- weave not, quilt the vanguard's inevitable blip
                -- the predictable slip

Aiding Karmic Tradition,
Wish not the limits of time upon the Race,
Let be qualquer need occur,
Let greed be the more of cultural blithe,
 -- Blanket forth, smelt the Passion to forge the redolent, edacious void
              -- to come.

 Leave the Body -- of death -- untraceable.

show yourself

The Gaia Conspiracy [29 Dec 2008|12:36am]

[ mood | precocious ]

"It is a matter of prestige,
It is a matter of position."

The displacement of love
with torrential submission:
Permission's Ascension:
the Grant:
A razing downward slope procession
concedes a greater loss:

The betrayal of Earth:
its inner tears from wholly-part
villainous mines and hellish work,
forging plains of ardent voids
now laden, now evincing, dirt.

Some do push the caution;
though most find pure prostration,
suffering their feeble minds
over Foreign Lamentation
or Crypted Maze Translations
always waning
towards the luscious-laced dessertion.

But most forget, forgot,
and swept, and sweep
with golden brooms
for that appeal
of glossal feels -- the riving taste -- to luxuriate their life.

It was the time of lust
to luster with deception,
Denial and Contraction,
Materials divulged -- deluged,
and brought to degradation.

And so the halls of destined future,
interlined with heat and passion,
remain a sweet but bitter list
Of risks that hale
the vines of desert-dried,decayed dimits.

And so exists...
Emblems of the One
which doth reveal the Epoch of Dolor.
A brief complete of what to keep
echoes legend at one's Doors...
of what shall come,
of what had come,
to those who trek
with greed's intent,
 and steals with narrow-blind contempt
 the Blessing...
 Eden, scathed... the last lament.

show yourself

Rue the Game [29 Dec 2008|12:30am]

[ mood | good ]

button to button,
we press skin to skin,
cotton candy hues
wrap your lips
for seconds
as one kiss
devours the colour -- of our attraction

we brace the glass
--linen to floor--
bounding us to each other
--the standstill perimeter--
your carbon arms
leaving the trace of heat,
behind the trailhead mirage
of your turbid embraces
-- ocular energy --

the diminuendo affect of pleasure,
--the fall to sheets--
the stag-approach
lothario released
--the truth--

the puerile game
the two to frame
the jewels gone blue
-- that day… to rue, to rue.

show yourself

whistling sexy (july 2, 2008) [03 Jul 2008|09:52am]


so whistling is sexy
dire ocean, dire sea
calmly careening
island by island
beach by beach
so whistling is sexy ...
when you do

so words unspoken are true
like the wind, like the sand
underneath our almost bound feet
struggling for thoughts
that the body give away
so easily, so enchantingly
words almost uttered
but then again they were never heard
yet so true, its so true

so the tree, so the rock
he climbed, he trudged
funny, clumsily, and uncanny
like me lying half naked
and you whistling sexy ...
at me
under the scorching march sun
friends, rocks and the boat men
all gone, all done
just you and i
left behind ...

2 poets inspired| show yourself

Dream for Inspiration [18 May 2007|05:19pm]

You good Sir, need another night
of waking up in a cold sweat
remembering that brief moment
grasping the air, clutching the tangible
when your world changed.

You my Dear, need another night
for creating the acceptable
repeating that kiss again and again
wishing your brave world would transcend
where there is no other around.

Mein Liebshoen, I delight
in your words and stories.
Take pride and may you sleep tonight
kissing my lips in your glories.
show yourself

the coming of age (february 20, 2007) [21 Feb 2007|10:39am]



the will to be forcible
for you to see me against tides
of unwanted imagery
against unexplained comedy
of you here lying motionless
touching the skin at my back

the risks already undertaken
from the moment you smelled my hair
till your arms playfully linger on my bare hip
then in unison
looking thru the frosty window
listening to the rain pouring madly at the roof
whispering carelessly to remember
long forgotten memories taken in innocence together

the bliss left under the sheets
with you holding me closely
against your bare chest
overpowering me with your able shoulders
trapped endlessly
wanting blissfully
to be here forever
without turning back
to our lives lived in secrecy


show yourself

back then (fucking son of a gun) (october 13, 2001) [19 Feb 2007|12:02pm]



back then
back then
when the world was fine
you came, you conquered
you fucking son of a gun
and my world crumbled, dissolved, and rumbled
with this feeling of love, lore and misinformation

back then
back then
i was alone and i was fine
the sky was all mine
and there was never any shades of blue
but then you came, you conquered
you fucking son of a gun
and the sky faltered, stammered, and trembled
with this feeling so remarkable, so cruel, and so beautiful
you are so beautiful

back then
back then
i never thought of this till then
i never felt like this till then
back then
back then
like im falling in love with you again
back then


show yourself

arms of a stranger (february 10, 2002) [14 Feb 2007|01:35pm]



here in the arms of a stranger
in the heart of common ground
were hate is never love
and love never hates
nothing of that sort exists
but only this moment in times absence

here in the absence of time
theres a lingering sight of perfection
pleading for this feeling to eventually fall
like raindrops falling from the sky
waiting to hit the ground finally

here in the realms of the present
were yesterday steps in
and tomorrow walks away
i feel home like coldness around
i feel love like hate in a distant sound

its all here in the arms of tonight
its all here in the arms of a stranger
were eternity exists between his eyes and mine
and it pleads to cease the existence of time
here in the arms of a stranger
here in the arms of tonight


show yourself

spark of lunacy (january 28, 2002) [13 Feb 2007|01:00pm]



breath with me
the air of recklessness
when you sat beside me
when you brushed by my heart accidentally

laugh hard with me
the smile of such healthy treachery
of you pertaining to be intimate to me
of love being sprung so effortlessly

breath and laugh
you and me
breath and laugh with this sudden opportunity
breath and laugh
this spark of lunacy
just breath and laugh
with this flicker of spontaneity

sleep tight with me
watch me close my eyes fervently
and pray with me hard enough o let this be

drown constantly with me
in this engagement between constant adversaries
of enemies being politely so meant to be
of fate so perfectly orchestrating this story

sleep and drown
you and me
sleep and drown in this sea of frenzy
sleep and drown
in the abyss of infinite fancy
sleep and drown
in this spark of lunacy
all for you
and all for me


show yourself

of love and not love (january 21, 2002) [12 Feb 2007|01:16pm]



swooning under the carpet
of love and not love
of emotions and none emotions
crashing under the rug of desire
or faltering under the feet of denial

fumbling all over
your heart so full of carelessness
of stepping out or being stepped at
of being conscious or being ridiculous
of love and the so-called love
of you yesterday and of you now
i wonder whom did i loved the most somehow

between love and hatred
of being impassioned or angered
i wonder how i ever made it
in times and in places
between right and wrong
i swoon underneath the mat
of love and not love
of being in love and being in love with you


show yourself

interlude IX [09 Feb 2007|01:45pm]



wondering ... wondering
if you are
as sincere as cheating
as gallant as whining
as kind as lying
as valiant as hiding

wondering ... wondering
if love is
as furious as hatred
as scarlet as death
as fervent as bluntness
as plain as everyday



show yourself

a new sense [05 Feb 2007|12:30pm]



a new sense of feeling
a new sense of missing
from impulse to this fleeting feeling
of excitement
of estrangement
to you finally
to you eventually


a new sense of relief
a new sense of flight
from careless air
to blissful winds
shared together from freshness
to slumber
dreaming of you and i


a new sense of feeling
a new sense of being
i had with you
so suddenly
so impulsively
from you
from you all along
now i’m never gonna be on my own



show yourself

i said goodbye [02 Feb 2007|01:16pm]



moving forth
secretly hurting
deep inside
youve let me down
"have the ships been long gone?"

no looking back
just breathing ahead
have you let my hands go?
i cant feel your heart anymore

i am lost
this world is too big without you
ill drown
my heart will succumb
stay for a while
i cant say goodbye

facing ahead
tears against the wind
tomorrows too blinding
all things sinking
away from me
can you stay for a while
until i can say goodbye?


show yourself

you [26 Jan 2007|10:59am]



in my stomach
endlessly fluttering
i dont know i can feel such thing
with you and your constant invitation
to cascade towards earthly communion

bursting in the scene
im not aware of this foreign feeling
bouncing off every walls imaginable
i never knew life could be this conceivable

singing while im sleeping
laughing while im screaming
dancing while im spinning
i cant escape it
need to be in this constant state

narcotically impossible to achieve
this mindset so high i cant hardly believe
if this is true
if this is you


show yourself

high tea 4 PEACE [16 Aug 2006|04:54pm]


we at kindhuman are hosting a high tea for peace
@ mulligans bar 630 east lake dr decatur ga www.myspace.com/mulligansatl
we will have an amazing array of guests `
 *artists illustrating peace
* djs spin in between bands
 * saturday from 2pm- 2am & sunday 2pm-midnight with an outdoor stage & inside sensations....like inDependant film!
* poets artists musicians madmeN & other fantastic folks speaking up for peace, something we all need right this minute!
Our desire at kindhuman is to request $5 donation from those who attend, to be donated either to the fine folks at "world can't wait" www.worldcantwait.org
or another charity listed in the ranks of need reguarding this terrible war, should their view not be the same as the sane one world can't wait supports....
 our question then, do you want to perform?
please contact me as soon as possible to let me know!
indie filmers, poets, artists are all welcome..
*musicians who like to improv are directed to contact amazing lizardo @ lizardos@mindspring.com
*artists, submit one piece donated or not with the theme of peace~email marty (aka chesh) by 9/7(kindhuman2003atyahoo)
 with label 411, install sat 9/9 @ NOON.
we can make anything happen, even Peace.
"overcome the devils with a thing called Love" ~ Bob Marley, 1975
anyone with further questions feel free to call tha chesh @
 770-246-9304 or email me here
madlove from wonderland 
show yourself

Flesh and Flesh [28 Jun 2006|09:07am]

Flesh and Flesh

It is better to have loved and kept
Her alive

Torn elegies won’t grow beyond the
Dammed up homage

No grand hall arabesques still play
Where hearts once pierced the future

Having found that long lost letter do you see the words
Are only a big broken arrow towards

What’s left on
The cutting room floor

What is said is made flesh and flesh is nothing
Without its passing

The forgotten moments you recall
After the poem is done
Are the ones elusive to letters, where she is always
She alive

(my response to the latest Northography stimulus)
show yourself

Rambling North Beach [18 May 2006|11:08am]

Excerpt #3 of my three volume chapbook in progress, THE RAMBLE NOOSE, incorporating last week's visit to San Fran. I walked right past Jack Kerouac Alley, looking for one without a name.

...and so context is everything. Omniscience itself constantly making deals with nomenclature. Yaweh paid a lump sum In The Beginning, not realizing Read more...Collapse )
show yourself

S [06 Apr 2006|10:24am]

I have some spoken word mp3's on my website for free download:

Track 1. Homage To the D*ck (Naked Tango Remix) *NSFW*
Track 2. Pop Culture Rant 4.0


There's a media player, just scroll down on the screen and have a listen. If you like them, download and tell your friends.


x-posted to a bunch of places
show yourself

x posted, ya'll come out! [06 Dec 2005|11:44am]


this friday dec 9th @ eyedrum lucky stray with special guests

 jose p orchestra 9pm $5 www.eyedrum.org

lucky stray are folk jazzy storytellers... weaving truths you need to hear emmersed in technocolor grooves that make you tap your feet & swing your ass for sho! Lucky's acoustic guitar & jazzy vocals drive this group while rhythmic genius from Amazing Lizardo on tha unexpected talking drum & smoking kit grant a wide canvas for color that johnny b & john t apply with soul via acoustic guitar, mandolin & electric guitar wail.....we have different guest strays each show, so you never know what path the stories will take..but you can bet as you shimmy & shake your way through our cosmic messages you won't soon forget the journey! Lucky stray is currently in studio working on an album for spring release.

Jose P.Orchestra came about in the early to late 90's in a mud slapped shack in El paso TX. Jose p himself was found in a whiskey bottle on the bar in the middle of town, whispering that something was behind you. They actually found Will Fist and the CROW in the wall of that mud shack. The three hit off fine and have plotted to destroy the world by extreme ass shaking. They create a sound so authintic it actually sounds like it came from the mississippi. So whatch your ass for it may shake right off with that great sound of ass shakin blues. Hasil Adkins style hooha!

show yourself

[15 Aug 2005|02:27pm]

+A Poetry Rating Community.

show yourself

[29 Jun 2005|06:07pm]
show yourself

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