I Remember When

I couldn't write a song.

And now the music is everywhere and in everything.

If I stop and listen to the world long enough a new tune is born.

I have more work ahead of me than I could possibly imagine.

And it doesn't feel like work. Ever.

It feels like being alive.

Finally.

I swear, man.

People, my people specifically are much more interested in talking about the fact that I make music rather than checking it out.

Well any of my work really but mainly the music.

I mean, I don't care what other people think, trust that ain't it.

It's the lack of sincerity.

Like "Oooh you're a musician? What style? Link me to your shit!"

Why, so you can not listen to it like everyone else and their Mom is doing?

This is what I mean about blowing smoke, man.

You ain't gotta spew nothing at me. Cause I ride around all day bumping my shit with a big smile on my face.

What did you think this is?

Loser-Ship

Loser-ship is like a stink that doesn’t wash off. 

You can hide behind fancy clothes, a nice hat, tattoos and sunglasses but wherever you go and whatever you do that big old monster is always poking its head. 

As obvious as a turned out pocket.

Sometimes I am low.

But I never stop.

Even if the mere movement is infinitesimal.

It is there.

I remember when

I didn't know what I needed to know.

And it ain't even that.

It's the "What is it that I need to know to UNDERSTAND what I need to know!'

Feel me?

Do you remember that?

Because I never stop feeling that way.

Regret

My only life regret is not discovering the things that I love sooner.

You couldn't argue the girl.
(You wouldn't swallow hot coals either)

But you grabbed,
Plunged, mouth first

An errant stunt-moron
A one person tunnel boring machine

Cutting holes of the 6 ft deep vintage

Singe the flesh from your lips,
Burn through your esophagus

They'll cheer you in the ICU
She'll celebrate your recovery

Maybe concede a draw
(With caveats and conditions)

Soulmates

An agreed inclination
Towards the guiltiest of the guilty pleasures
Like the flip side of each others favorite coin
Dipped in the same essence
Half-formed in separate wombs
With a shared secret handshake

OMFG YOU GUYS!

2 Followers on my pr0n blog!!!

You have no idea how much this means to me.

Stepping into the cipher uninvited
Offering unsolicited opinions
In trade for a social proof

"I thought you knew them?"
Heads shaking "No" in unison
When blessed with your absence

Still lingering like smoky tendrils of stolen essence
Replaced with a cheap whiskey hangover
An aftertaste of stale entitlement

An Old Poem


My grip is tighter
My vice, more painful
I squeeze her in joy
Hold close to my heart

An earful of pain
Persist against her wishes
If I squeeze harder
She'll know I'm for real!

I can't hear protests
Her pleas or anger
I feel her heart beating
This is love, I must know

When she bursts in joy
The finalization upon me
Leaves nothing, confusion.
So empty, alone.

You People

Don't even slow down to throw tomatoes much less wave.

But I adore you, my silent audience.

Rest assured if you're reading these words and coming back for more you have my gratitude.

:)

How it Feels

Like running headfirst into an apparition
Desperate to recreate an embrace that never existed
With a person known only through the secondhand memory of a rival
When losing the argument with your reflection in a pocket mirror
Becomes the setup for the kind of revelation
That sees you waking underneath the crushing onslaught
Of neverending tidal shifts that you've no choice but to swim against
For the amusement of the masses that can't even fake interest
At the tiny, struggling image of you, tucked away
in the corner of their mind's eye.

Wow.

Shit happens and you start to feel less and less like a person, just something hurling through the cosmos like a piece of debris.

The fact is, you can fly like this forever or eventually you smack into something or maybe burn up entering the atmosphere of another planet.

Welp.

Maybe the people that actually like me are enough to count on a single hand.

If that's the case I hope the ones that do not stop pretending otherwise.

And y'all think I'm just being a deliberate dickhead

Last night my oldest sister asked me if I liked reggae.