Trapped and Unscathed

 In another life I died and went to hell
this is where I happened to end up instead
with an unbelievable new tale to tell
writing with pulsations powering my head.

 Death is the least of my problems you see
evil comes with fancy packaging in the name of lust
until you I was trapped and with nowhere to be
now I am doomed and will again do what I must.

You stroll through life unscathed with destain
you get people to cheat and you ask them to lie
while everyone around you is suffering in pain
you get others to turn away as your targets die

If it wasn’t for people doing what they do
there would be nothing to despise or hate
you still don’t really know yourself do you?
when we were together I’d rather masturbate.

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Wemembering Everything Bad

We used to hate everything bad together for real good fun

wememberings of what happened 7 long hard years ago

which someone of the 5,000 friends is not the real one

when everybody stops we know it’s time to get up & go.

Life is just a job and what happens to us we call reality

sitting at the big kids table you only ask smart questions

the perceptions we have had between they us and we

rarely for the greater good do we engage in suggestions

having an opinion and giving advise is easy when it’s early.

Lovelust is the challenge and nothing much can be undone

do San Francisco with everything and anybody to do it with

socialize at a poetry night and challenge yourself to read one

we keep out of the hives as drones become part of the myth

a year of long weekends alone and stark yet still having fun.

My fb profile is nearly full with 1,052 active of 5,000 fbeople

what a non-boring city as an indolent bunch with our readings

they are an unfriend to make room for others at the steeple

they’ve obviously mistaken me for someone with no feelings.

 

Pistanthrophobic Nyctophilia

There once was a shy boy who didn’t blink,

he liked to read books then sit around and think,

he thought he’d be forever eating alone over the sink,

until he met a smart girl dancing with piercings and ink.

At first he didn’t quite realize that she was just like him,

she noticed his unblinking eyes which created a grin,

although they look different they are the same within,

they both devour knowledge and like it when it’s grim.

When it comes to love they both have a phobia,

it seems to others that they have xenophobia,

but they just have a bit of pistanthrophobia,

together they indulge their nyctophilia.

 

Brainspotting Hipsters

Straining for attention to recognize their coolness
having all their pictures tagged in blissful vain
there’s nothing more important than how to dress
hipster spotting in urban-ville searching for the brain.

There is a place where you can stand and be ignored
looking for eyes that dart away from your old look
life slips and what once was cool is now not adored
being sociably different as pages in the same book.

Smile and wink like autographs and final answers
youthful skirts float and shaved bald heads bounce
hogging all the glances while ignoring all the cancers
zig zagging through the crowd with irony to renounce.

Nonchalant Day Walkers

They give each other meaningless titles
misdirection at every fork in the twisting road
self reverent obstacles instead of recitals
they have everyone trained with Pavlovian ode.

Life is falling in every possible direction
up and down and side to sideways as well
inside out and diagonally right outside in
we do all the saying that they have to tell.

Chatter is flatter when nothing does matter
words are now empty and flow vapidly hollow
makes us feel bad being a good for not ratter
to disagree with every truth meant to swallow.

Resolving disagreements with their internal bias
disposition is something they keep in their gall
pick and choose what they see and hear as pious
scorn and ridicule what they admire most of all.

Leave alone their nonchalant attitudinal emergency
live in the darkness and die daily like the light
dance alone till dawn with no one else particularly
see what’s sometimes wrong and do what’s always right.

Complimentary E-Poetry-Book Download Makes a Great Gift

Aethersphere

Concentrated Audio Accoutrements

Now you may relax,
now you may concentrate,
now you may focus,
now you may anticipate.

The center that you seek,
the center that you store,
truth is something we all reek,
secrets are always behind the black door.

With your sophomoric arguments,
please don’t saddle our kind,
turn your eyes into accoutrements,
dj music will expanded your mind.

Written while listening to Bunnywhiskers on Radio Valencia

Spare Change for Peace

Potatoes and tuna fish for dinner

almost free ramen noodles with an egg

worried about what to eat at month’s end

every moment warped with an empty angst

there should be free food everywhere we are

change for peace and the beggars and hungary

random acts of freedom are what’s needed

the starving have jobs and children as well

pay for peace because war is the easy

put freedom on the menu as anything.

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Pucker Power

Yellow drops of pucker power
to quench a writers long lost thirst
glands swell from nature’s sour
auto-writing in red here is a first.

Bite in now and let the drops drip
strands of thick pulp flossing teeth
rejoice in the juice and take a sip

taste-buds tingle from underneath.

Stimulate and reverberate your mind
in a room full of aetherspheric looks
reading poems around your own kind
embrace the pucker then write your books.

Blissfull Vajayjay Day

The stars seem brighter as you remain unfound
because you have opened my eyes once more
we realized in your absence a beauty once sound
no longer descend past the valentine day door.

cupid was fine when we were a time that myths were the reason
we have a new celebration mostly for her and a little for him
the day is now stolen from a cute baby angel in kissing season
because what is desired at nights end is satiated dripping wet trim.

we believe it’s time to begin a new tradition of sway
paying homage to something adults can adorn and adore
from now on annually in february every girl shares this day
the right to feel, look and act like your form of whore.

there are many lessons to be learned along way to she gleen
tendencies inspire to put the cooter owner up in a pedal tower
envision a cadre of rounded hips with bits and pieces in between
when it comes to being face to face with the ultra pussy power
wherever you go in every spacetime there is cha cha to be seen.

all are unique and some quite exquisite while coming in a wide range
every once in a while you accidentally come across the cunt variety
when the moon is full there’s nothing wrong with a little strange
most of the owners are nice and good and very vital to our society.

some dangle their poon for a nice free dinner out or the vip line
other la-las are used to manipulate love to live the way they might
for some their honey spot is their money pot and for them that’s fine
in the case of wax pain it’s worth our pleasure through the long night
responsible owners take care of their yum yum treasure all the time.

most coochie connoisseurs prefer the absence of all fur reminisces
many like a nice little trim and neatly quaffed but not bare
others like a little beaver power patch of devine deliverance
there are those who love a big furry bush at which to stare.

there are many options and the choice is yours they’re your lips
there are many ways to prepare the infinitely complex Mt. Venus
here are a few friendly tips for your pre-pleasure tune-up trips
from the mound top to the perineum taint just above the anus.

accouterments galore are available everywhere within ink studios
with a few little things made of metal and maybe some real fangs
everyone takes creative requests and good artists are real pros
with ink and piercings for the brave and daring darling gangs.

consider these when you’re planning for a trim for the trout
prepare for the ouch because it’s completely worth the pain
enjoy the waxing pain in case the big night doesn’t work out
nikhedonia can be addickting for both you and him the same.

a ‘landing strip’ on the Mound of Venus liberates the outer labia
the full monty goes deeper and includes a punani triangle-hood-top
the sphinx cleans the beach up and down the whole pelvic box area
stealth mode is a brazilian lady business landing strip-non-stop.

some celebrate the fact that they no longer have one
others that the last is forever gone and hopefully put away
many are blissfully happy with just what they have done
today is the day everyone celebrates Blissfull Vajayjay Day.

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Let’s Meet

I can tell you things that you’ve never heard,
and show you things you’ve never seen.
What is it that you do,
from which I may gleen?

We can meet for lunch,
or maybe tea.
You can tell me about you,
and then about me.

It’s not sex I want,
or be friends with benefits either.
It’s an exchange of ideas,
over a pint or a liter.

You tell me yours,
I’ll tell you mine.
If the energy is right,
together they will shine.

Lurking Rhythm

I know you’re there,
lurking and low.
Waiting for me,
in the moon glow.

Take my hand,
go to the floor.
When the rhythm starts rhyming,
we both dance hardcore.

The floor is long,
a wooden sea.
Into my arms,
you’re safe as can be.

 

Fag and Yank

I want to go out,
but should stay in.
What I really need,
is to dance like sin.

The throbbing base,
and rhythmic drum,
makes you want,
to dance till you come

The timing’s not right,
neither’s the bank.
I guess I’ll just do,
with a fag and a yank.

 

Alone Clone

We all suck dick,
and we’re all fucking whores.
If the pay is enough,
get down on all fours.

If the need for cash,
wasn’t the way,
What on Earth,
would we do with our day?

The future I see,
we’re never alone.
When it’s time to work,
send in the clone.

Bald Pussy

They shaved a pet cat,
for humor and sport.
That’s what happens,
when you drink and snort.

Doing dumb shit,
spend lots of dough.
Is the usual result,
of boozing and blow.

Do that enough,
you’ll get caught up in tort,
Drop the white powder,
or end up in court.

But be number 1?
always rope tow?
If it’s no fun getting there,
why even go?

Read it Again

Love is bright red,
sorrow is yellow.
Some poems rhyme,
this one does not.

I want to write poems,
and don’t really know why.
But they won”t seem to rhyme,
so why even try them.

If you think something’s wrong,
read it again.
You do that,
I’ll just sit here and grin.

The Future Me

Some people act,
some people sing,
I just sit here,
and do my thing. 

Building tomorrow land,
all by myself,
Without the aid,
of even an elf.

But that’s okay,
I like it that way.
Because I get to see,
the future of me.

Sound of Your Face

I think it’s time,

to hear your voice,

It’s not up to me,

it’s not our choice.

 

Longing to hear loudly,

the sound of your face.

Washing waters stray,

singed leather & your lace.

 

When night swallows day,

you’re here with me now.

Somatic aether connection,

don’t ask me why or how.

 

 

You Perfect Monument

I’m writing another poem while all alone sitting,
in the poetry room at City Lights.
I sit for an hour or more reading and writing,
on weekends and or weekday nights.

I gave up on love a long time ago,
there is no more left and or ego.
Until someone appears to be my amigo,
I wear the mask of silence where ever I go.

The confluence of influence manifests with the moment,
in something sometimes called perfect time.
The very best way to be your own monument,
is worship each other with words that rhyme.

 

Synesthesiac Flavor

It’s a nice new word,
i labeled me by myself.
one that jumped out,
from my old bookshelf.

It reads and looks a bit sterile,
and yes it sounds like pedantic ia,
let my introduce to you,
my new descriptor, Synesthesia.

It means several things,
one now has my favor.
to hear and see with taste,
to smell and touch with flavor.

Flowing Glances at Cafe Trieste’

I fell in love today all over again,
with the girl next to me at Cafe Trieste’.
Thick red eye lashes and a matching mane flowin’,
my pulse has yet to slow and rest.

The only words we exchanged were regretting,
her telling of the code for the wireless connection.
I’m convinced of in now that while we were sitting,
our feelings had their own multidimensional convection.

I know I’ll never see her again,
it’s really for everyone’s best.
If she were the last love of my life,
what would happen with all the rest?

They come and go on a daily basis,
always with a yearning body and head.
Hold the coffee and glancing races,
give me a bottle of red wine instead.