Golden Gated Shadows

i’ve got a dark secret you are about to be told,
treat it like a whisper whisped just for the two of you,
with listening comes a promise never choose to whisper with a wrong soul.
if the promise is broken someone will cease to breath and it won’t be you two.

let me show you how things are supposed to work with just a few fresh thought words,
your demotive glow brights the aethersphere whenever you are seemingly far or near to me,
you have to want someone before they can be desired and that includes all three thirds,
you are welcome to damage me with your favorite fetish just do it with desire and leave out the cruelty.

your endowment of objectification is safely standing on one leg down by the bridge on the dock in the bay,
the only pain you will receive from me is that which you explicitly beg for or pleasantly request,
there are few others that can synthesize what we’re syn-thing about what you do and don’t non-verbally say,
the secret is special because it is happening with this reading and you now have a part in the quest.

we went on a day trip to the Golden Gate Bridge and what we did was choose where to celebrate my 100th birthday,
it’s a long way off with not being even half-way there and the chances of making it that long are nearly none to slim,
i decided long ago to cheat death and the grin reeper by choosing my fate and the day on which it will happen to say hey,
today is the day we shared in the say and choose the leaping off spot next to the high rim of our favorite unforgivable sin.

the priest we were sitting next to on the ride there overheard us make the plans for our poetic birthday suicide pact,
he helped to get us where we were going then with a forced priestly smile asked us to switch tracks at the very next stop,
we’re both breathing the freshest air breathed in for the last five years for some of the same and different reasons of fact,
we will always have that space in time when we shared a dangerously forbidden thought way up high and near the gated top.

be my doomfull dose for the evening and we will share our addiction for flowing red fluid and rhythmic dance floor movement,
a controlling role from me cannot be because it is the being part of your preferred kind of free is what is on my feasting range,
my emotional memory has been reset with horrific intentions long in the past and since that time you are the very first moment,
after tonight everything will relativistically change with the added excitement of a taste of strange mixed with a bit of derange.

choose the evening aroma with your favorite photo and choose it well because the image will forever bring back the smell,
select the perfect place to incise your mark and before we name the special space mark the spot with a biting kiss stung,
slowly drag your chosen edge across the region of your incision decision and then it is time to make the choice swell,
when the dark red fluid begins to run absorb it up with the ready gauze sponges or rejoice in using your tongue.

no matter what happens after tonight the bitter sweet taste of dna lounge will forever be blended with yours,
the wanting inside me has long since gone and the price i am willing to pay for love is negative zero,
technology can’t offer a camera that can capture your demotive glowing stare through doors,
i can see or sense it whenever your red switch is properly switched by your poetry hero.

my empty sphere that once was bright clear is filling with fresh worms and breath,
you are the closest to reach my quanta-sphere and not do it wrong painfully,
my downfall has led a Lamia to me who helped cheat our friend death,
if you ever decide to leap i am always willing to leap too early. 

San Franskitzo City Stall

San Francisco has lost its soul,
in the name of a balanced budget.
There is also what we all depend on,
the tourist dollars they count and fudge it.

Change is the cry they always jingle,
to get themselves elected.
They make us think we need their angle ,
because the city’s infected.

The people in charge have everyone fooled,
believing that they are free.
The power lay in not knowing who’s ruled,
if you look you too will see.

They sell us security and false hope,
but are really just liars and thugs.
All in the name of what they really scope,
Gold, Oil and control of all the Drugs.

The tourists come here looking as did I,
hoping to find sometime in which to belong.
What they find as progress is that people can get high,
but still get a life sentence for just having a bong?

They come here daily already in love and from the moment they arrive,
are given maps and tour-guides to all of the objects of their misplaced affection.
They come here hoping to find something close to how we used to survive,
many leave with plenty of souvenirs and an unsettling sense of personal rejection.

Our biggest “Tourist Attraction” or otherwise amusement ride,
is another sign of a society way out of reality whack.
It once was a way to help the people who lived here and provide,
now it’s little more than revenue stream for City Stall desk jockeys to spend and track.

Sure it’s cute and it keeps the tourists coming,
with every ticket comes a much bigger invisible price.
Which by the way is the latest 19th century travel technology,
for the price of a round trip ticket and 2 scoops of creamed ice.
All for a ride with a little bell and a cute jing-a-ling-a-ling,.
that reminds them of back home and their box of shrimp friend rice.

If we are going to do it anyway we should so in with electromagnetic pulsation,
they keep on coming which they’re going to do anyway and keep snapping pictures as they pass.
The attention of the world will be upon us once again as we carry the pulse and the minds of a nation,
the trolly may work fine for the tourists but for those who live here the hills are still a pain in the ass.

The art scene here would be laughable,
if it weren’t so pitiful and unbelievably sad.
The greater tragedy of this part of the fable,
is that everywhere else it’s just as bad.

Buyers with dollars and nobody to trust in the end,
with a market with no rules and everything sounds like a cheer.
It’s the ones with a hammer at the other end of the pen,
who maintain the prices and control them with fear.

I’ve never been to Alcatraz and there I never will see,
I seek no beauty in a chamber of pain with hoodies and an audio tour,
What needs to replace this old and ugly monstrosity,
is a futuristic reminder of what we are willing to endure,
and show how the perfect world is going to be.

For most of the tourists anything will do like they say,
they really want to say that they did this and that with pride.
Standing in lines for things they really shouldn’t even pay,
always paying for the t-shirt with the smile and glide.
They can now go home and wear it to display,
that they too went on the San Francisco ride.

That’s what we’ve become and it’s been like this for a while,
we have two choices that seem easy for to me and us to make.
Stick with the past and make history our trade in the name of denile,
The second choice has already been made behind your back and this time with nothing that’s fake,
the artists are taking over again but this time with mba’s, engineering degrees with much better fashion and style.