words of zen / words obscene

Maenad

2006-12-20T07:30:00.000-08:00

We go from one rave to the other
for we do not believe in
getting up early to work the next day
get up from bed
if both your set of balls are not stuck together
like when Daddy
found the stray dogs
attached to each other’s balls
he had to hose them
in water quite winter cold.
We go from one bed to the other
hoping to find the one
with the right amount of warmth
and the right body to emanate it from
if you believe in things like love
commitment, and the equation
that states that the sum of those two parts
equals felicity, whether domestic or not.
We go like maenads
for if we cannot have love before our 30’s
we will enter a state of frenzy
this city is too cruel
too cold
for a cold bed with just one body in it
lonely is cruel
as is the frenzy of finding another.

Maieutic

2006-12-20T07:29:00.000-08:00

If knowledge is air
then your head is wise
if and only if your bridge
to the Akashic Records
is still latent in the mitochondria
of your genes.
Knowledge is air
as air is sword
bring Ragnarok along
with Excalibur
and El Cid’s Espada Colada
challenging the moors
as Greeks challenge the Amazons and centaurs
and everything that is not Greek
depicted with beastly big phalluses
and lower behavior
Knowledge is still air
if air is in your head
if we reminisce
if we remember
for if thought is energy
knowledge is real power
the telekinesis of God
brought to us, not by bitten forbidden fruit
but by maieutics
which is another way of saying
to remember what is already there
as knowledge itself is air.

Intercession

2006-11-21T09:47:00.000-08:00

Ball o’ light flies
to blue-white Buddha
as i pray for you
cousin of AIDS
interceding for your life.
Mandorla of golden hope
opens up in me forefront
as i reach the state of intercession
before the intercessors of humans
before Mary and the other gods.
Five pointed star spreads around this meditation
as zen becomes me
as i become you
as you become dust
cousin of AIDS.
Ball o’ light
as i gather the prayers
of intercession from others
to others
and the tragedy is
that i abduct their intercessions
to use them for you
cousin of AIDS
to bind your eyes open
to sew you lips together
to force your blood to work
the miracle of life
cousin of AIDS
so that you don’t die on me.

Pandemonium

2006-11-21T09:46:00.000-08:00

“Pop goes the dreamer”
as our neo-faith goes boom
in the heads of the preachers
and the Jesus-guys
popping up the dreams
bubbles of a better year chardonnay
sparkles of glitter in your head
as we preach our neo-faith of common sense
and take back the power
from the Jesus-guys
faith is vacuum in Hourglass
faith is the energy of the thousands
then, please, lend me you rosary beads
so i can firestart my starfire
in a beautiful pandemonium
of bare ungloved larceny
of old, arthritic beliefs.
“Pop goes the dreamer”
you say to me,
and then it becomes a password
a greeting
a salute
a better way to spend life
dreaming it all
faith is the current of thousands
faith is the spell of thousands
faith is the age of the world,
and after that, i started to fear salutes
and politics
and any faith that can be shared
for in sharing, faith becomes an ugly pandemonium
hubbub of possible Devil mayhem
brother vs brother
mothers vs daughters
humans against their kin
and then, in the darkness of oppression
we can dream no more.

Impending

2006-11-21T09:45:00.000-08:00

Ruin goes both ways
and 360° all over Midwest
as wind twirls
and takes men with their gonads
to Momby
and all those left over
in E. City.
Ruin goes all ways
as the impending punishment
come from the Hand O’Glory
--the one that wrote all those old commandments—
sweeps as pyroclasm
bent on erasure.
Ruin goes everywhere
as we strive to remember
to save something from God
to keep something to ourselves
so we don’t forget
just how close we were of becoming Him.

Evanescence

2006-11-16T09:16:00.000-08:00

Rain is the happiest season
as droplets of water fall
silently at first
then shouting their comeback
falling hard on their heads
in beautiful, sinful suicide.

Rain is the happiest month
as the air turns white
at an arm’s length
the youngsters comming out
of the high school in the other street
running and laughing under the rain.

Rain is the happiest month
as i coil between shades and sheets
looking for a warmer setting
crawling for the two arms
that shall get me to comfort X zone
from the Y is it so cold excuse of a month.

Then comes the sun
and Rain becomes the month of evanescence
and i pass out of sight with no alcohol
passing out of memory
for nobody saw me leave
they were too busy with the rain.

Resplendence

2006-11-16T09:15:00.000-08:00

i saw you dancing
trying to stop time
attractive and impressive through being quite richly colorful or sumptuous
you were dancing
and i saw you stop time
resplendent
a child turns to child no more
a child forever in hold of that call
i saw you dancing
trying to stop time
everytime God’s stars
turned to white horses and caravels
made of God’s cigarrette smoke
resplendent
in your dance
to stop time
and name the last discovered planet Xena
resplendent in the air
as i walk on the Old Ways
stoping to dance
and i see you stop time.

Whorl

2006-11-16T09:10:00.001-08:00

World is thy white whorl
if wind turns to water
in a much more than easy manner
for thy bukes start to fry the fish
he shall give to the many and needy
fish, bread and tulips
and thy world spinning around a white whorl
maelstrom in other parts of the world
thy world
waiting forever for the ruin
that lies around the corner.

Kike

2006-11-01T09:41:00.000-08:00

The beast is a beast
not because of devilry or witchery
but for his beauty
if you don’t believe me
ask Mata Hari
or whoever was Filimelé
my friend is not Jewish
although he has a beard
and big ears
and has a name of kike
although he’s not a New York kike
and probably doesn’t know who Mata Hari was
or Filimelé for what matters
my friend has a beauty of his own
although no devil inside Brazilian rum bottles
and no taste for devilish mischief.
“The beast is a beast…
-I heard his radio say-
not because of devilry or witchery
but for his beauty”
just ask my friend Kike
although he’s not a kike.

Lulu

2006-10-25T09:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Amaterasu
kami goddess of Rising Sun
to say AIDS cannot be cured
is to admit that there are doors with no exit
even if I can leave through the same door I came in
for I am not a legend told by drunk sailors
or urban tale told by crystal-meth high HIVers
don’t judge my sweet bliss of denial
for darkness also provides
cozy joints and happy corners
infections are infectious
only as much as I want them to be
don’t judge me
for not taking my meds
even after all the struggle of those who came before me
for I am me
and by Buddhist pledge
I decide what’s best
although it’s not like I’m playing Messiah
martyr or a simple kind of lulu
but it’s my pagoda with dragons
and talking lions
and beautiful sceneries
full of wise okamis
and sakuras in bloom and glory
it’s my temple
my mind and body
and AIDS cannot defeat
this will of impervious weather
for my will is a storm of many tornadoes
pink petals of sakuras
revolving around these viruses that I command
not to reproduce
and to leave by force of will
and Amaterasu’s howl.

Underoos

2006-08-19T17:35:00.000-07:00

I call your name
through a million pairs
of tighty whities
not knowing that you are free ball nation
looking for something other
than Batman and Superman underoos
I know that you fall
forever into the child within
never knowing that you are being watched
through loop and small glory holes
in the restrooms of a deceased Walmart
I call your name
before you be raped
by Holy Man Under Command of God
leave this house
leave this planet
leave this world
be free before he yanks down
your underoos.

Sabaoth

2006-08-17T19:12:00.000-07:00

To correlate is correspondence
as power becomes orb
by means of our magic
and positive vibrations
correspondence is ascension
as we speak to demons
to intercede for us before the angels
for we too want to become
the Hosts of Heaven
the Hordes of Hell
the Eons of the Earth
in this and any Saturday
ṣĕ b ā'ō t for me
anytime, possibly next week
if you have nothing else to do
after we go to the movies
to ascend forever
to put God on all fours
rape him and smear his face
with our dominion forever
ascension corresponds to us
we undeserving children
of burned Bibles
and upside down saints.

Cloudberries

2006-08-11T17:40:00.000-07:00

I give in to the moorlands
although ‘tis easy to say
that I couldnae fight to death
with the spirit I’ve never seen
I am completely
responsible for my own suicide
for when Temple is laid siege
there’s always plan C
and the moorlands, where you grow
although I thought you were from the clouds
and you tasted like cotton
but ye were too orange a Rosacae
in Eurasian moorlands
and I couldnae fight this hex to the end
not even with panaceas of unknown Chinese origin
nor with remedies of ancient recipes
found in archaeological valuable deposits
‘tis easy to say
ye can, with just one look at me
that this warrior ate his own axe
and that cloudberries don’t help in the fight.

Hylozoism

2006-08-11T17:39:00.002-07:00

Preach me, Sugary One
that all peaches in life
are plump and ripe,
ready for the taking
in the breasts of Woman
if she be the guide by Sky
painting the sky with her hair
black blue rook
with cork flutes and danubes
preach me, Sugary One
that all matter has life
that we all stand connected
in our hearts
through the HeartWorldKingdom
where peaches mingle with plums
where sakuras and white flowers
throw their flowers tenderly at your face
for all matter is alive
and stands connected in the breast of Woman
if she walks in the air
in the Sky
in the Kingdom that lies
beyond the gates of our heart.

Whammy

2006-08-11T17:39:00.001-07:00

Collect the herbs
burn thy incense
and start the prayers
inside the four-pointed circle
to remember the ole words
and the odes they sang about
as you try to lay siege of my pancreas
you are so full of it
-sugar-
that it takes a gall(e)on of insulin
to take you in
the only way worth to follow
is Halloween
the dark road to the portal
signaled by the 6’2” rabbit named Frank
I shall invoke the spirit
of Jim Morrison
to take you away with rivers of sperm
whale sperm
as I put my whammy on you
collecting hideous and heinous herbs
burning Hari Krishna incense
-the one you bought me at the airport-
and starting the rants
against you and my people
that supported you
get back
to whatever bottle you came from
O’ Prince O’ Toads
Icabod Crane and the headless jockey
call of all lights out
hear it
hear it well
for this whammy means
no more of your white sand ass
neither in Halloween
nor during the rest of the year.

Zillion

2006-08-11T17:39:00.000-07:00

What be the difference
between mage and witch
would be like asking
for a zillion answers
like why does rain
comes down
instead of going up
why you win the lottery
and not me
tell you what,
it has to do with Murphy’s Law
but that is not the case
‘cause flattery shall get you everywhere
if you know a zillion things
and how to have your way with people
like zillion of unanswered questions
one of them: why is the sky not green
even at sunset?
Why is Z the last letter,
and always one of those
with the least quantity of words?
Tell you what
there more than a zillion answers
only if know where to look
only if you know what to think
you are yourself
a zillion you’s
a zillion minds married together
in Shakespearean worlds and sonnets
come together in a zillion synapses
always threatened by Alzheimer’s
so don’t burn yourself out,
there are also a zillion ways of doing that.

Clyster

2006-08-11T17:38:00.000-07:00

Not to tell you
this poem is an ode
to your enema
but spread them wide
for clean fits you
and you fit sex
if you can understand
that pleasure cannot come
without mortification
whether of body or soul,
never of spirit though
so spread them
and share the fullness
inside
of me.

Aeons

2006-07-28T13:44:00.001-07:00

My bad, if you lost your goods.
I was caused to be by you
Thus, i was started aeons ago
as time transpired
i came to be you
the way history fits historian
and good finds goodness quite becoming.

My bad, if we lost us
in the middle of words
too bad that penis means nothing
if you cannot taste it
thus, you triggered me to be
aeons ago
the way bi fits sexual
fitting you, at the same time.

My bad, if Heaven and Hell decide
they’ve had their share with us
like puppet fits puppeteer
aeons gone by past your ear
past your eyes
through the flux of time
like obfuscation fits autism or Alzheimmer’s
the way it fits us poets
Psychics of God
may you find a common good
my bad, if you can’t.

B-side

2006-07-28T13:44:00.000-07:00

Our love is a b-side
somebody forgot to include
in the album
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
Carlos Asks No Names After Bigotry Is Sun
or something like that to say plain
cannabis
cause our love found its way
through smoke patterns
and independent dreams
that found themselves into one.
Our love is a b-side
somebody forgot to include
along with Heart of Gold
Happiness is a Warm Gun
or I Wanna Hold Your Hand
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
don’t pee in the air
although urine shall wash our face fresh
in the morning
along with Tori Amos’ many B-sides
playing from the i-Pod
besides the bed.

Firecrackers

2006-07-28T13:43:00.001-07:00

Dragons went zigzag
in that new year parade
you like to remember so much
in Chinatown, New York
way before 11 of the ninth month
and you heard fuses
of firecrackers
way up in the sky
like a melody bloating your ears
with drums of poetry
and Aztec maracas of war
we knew it was coming to this
we knew we had it coming
firecrackers loud
like trucks howling forever
like Old World Leviathans
and Atlantic Sea Krakens
opening their filthy jaws
to swallow entire cities.
But the firecrackers
unlike plain fireworks
fused with paper
lit with matches
they burst in the sky
my heart among them
spraying poetry all over this city
of future debris captured on films
to praise this Nation O’ Bastards
when all it should do is retreat.

Cockeye

2006-07-28T13:43:00.000-07:00

To tell you the truth
tis not important
whether or not a tree falls in the forest
whether someone hears the fall
or not
tis all about whether you hear a PHOOOM!!! PLLACK!!!
or simply a FIIIUUUUUSSHHHHH!
‘cause here we are now
entertain us
we are so stupid
and contagious
to tell you the truth
God spoke to me
in foreign languages
hoping to bring me back to the flock
before he destroys it all
but I turned my face to violence
tis not important
not important at all
‘cause the tree falls in the forest
never close to me
like thunders in the distance
I have never seen the blackened hole they leave
somewhere
over the rainbow
to tell you the truth
I once thought I was God
now I think I’m a worm
and I’m happy now
seeing the world from cockeyes
bigger than it really is.

Dehydration

2006-07-28T13:42:00.000-07:00

I often wondered
what was it about deserts
that escaped my Zen enlightment
why desertification was a problem
when others tried to protect desert species
from too much water…
too much water indeed
or light that comes from others
and I give back
I often wondered why
deserts are femme fatales
and if jaborandi can be found in them
if indeed pilocarpines can produce more salivation
like heroine or cocaine
and why marijuana does not work in Vegas
neither in the desert from Nevada to California.
I often wondered what would it take
to blossom Sahara
rise the fertile Earth above the sands
embellished by caffeine and other beautiful drugs
I wondered what would it take for me
to finally dehydrate
and come back to life.

G-string

2006-07-14T18:30:00.000-07:00

“Nice gistro” –he said
as i took it off
to plunge in
the visage of blue-green
an eye of water in Guanica.
“Nice ass” –he said
as he took off his pants
and pulled down his briefs
revealing a couple
of white 33-years old pubes
and an upward curved penis
driping transparent rain
“Nice dick” –he said
as i pulled a tent
with no canvas
too low the tides
for water to cover
even my knees.
“Thanks” –i replied
“Strike true, then
and i shall play possum”.

Feral

2006-07-14T18:29:00.000-07:00

They prayed to God for understanding
asking him
for a Deus-ex-Machina in their lives
whether it be by terminal ultimatums
in Armageddon
or by the slightest touch
of a feather sleep tight die well
go for good.

They insisted
in listening to the sway of pigeons
high above
wondering if such a remarkable visage
could the omen
of something worse
a prodigy of hieroglyphs
feral children of witches
waiting for their turn
to burn
their ashes like incense
carrying their prayers way up
hoping they rained over God’s head
hoping he didn’t open his umbrella.

High

2006-06-22T13:27:00.000-07:00

Remember the pastures
when we walked as bacteria
among the Earth
being nothing to Her
but shapeless forms
trying to evolve into beings
that could better regard her beauty
too bad we could not be gods
and had to settle with humans
try to remember
when you were cloud
almost nothing to the Sky
floating wild
and high, carelessly high in the Sky
with no fear for lack of oxygen
but high, cause beauty is never better seen
thatn from high above int he Sun
burning with earrings of solar fire
stars caressing your eyes
with their explosions
thousands of millennia ago
sometimes it’s hard to believe
you’d remember me.

Reverie

2006-06-19T15:00:00.000-07:00

I was gathering wool
out of the many sheep
that jumped over my fence
two hours ago when i was trying to sleep
but now it’s all and unpractical theory
that Unisoms or Ambiens
shall make me sleep this night
let the Lord rejoice
joyful, joyful
i do not adore thee
but call me in this reverie
of unknown ultimare origin
give me the power
to stay awake and write
give me the power
summoned Lord inside me
to draw genius from my daydream
let me sin like never
giver of immortal happiness
fill me with the dark
of the days passed
when they were not known as days
let me gather golden wool
golden fleece
i shall be Greece’s best Argonaut
the Celtic bravest warrior
while counting sheep
jumping over white fences
while i shut down this synapses
with two Ambiens and one Unisom,
a bit of vermouth
and tons of wicked thoughts gone astray.

Nyctalopia

2006-06-15T15:31:00.001-07:00

don’t you dare
tell me you haven’t
thoughts of suicide
‘cause it’s just a thought
of the night blindness, blind night
I have been better
if you want to ask
thanks to feng shui
fresh linen, recently ironed pants
green shrubs in my garden
and other tricky plants
I haven’t lately thought of suicide
although it’s just a thought
come to me recently with the dark
i found a dot in the map
you gave the other day
it says Hell-Hill
I say Elsewhere
I’m gone daddy gone
to the crazy gospel of the Jones
fresh linen, recently ironed shirts
white, white, white
downtown,
don’t you dare, don’t you dare, don’t you dare,
DONT YOU DARE
tell me I’m crazy
I’m not that crazy
stopping you with my right hand
Hand of Fatima, Hand O’Glory, give me a break
break me in stone
if you want me to live
as long as you think I should
for I’ve been having bad thoughts
although just thoughts.

Nymphaeum

2006-06-15T15:31:00.000-07:00

Go to the grotto
where it all started for us
according to Johnny Walker
the mud was in cakes
and the chocolate in the skin of slaves
as we walked and walked
past those fields in the wheat belts of Bible
where fellow folk still practice
a form of ancient magic
it was tih the blues that it all started
in that shrine, very far inside the grotto
I consecreated to you
with my buttcheeks incredibly wide opened
my own personal nymphaeum
dedicated to you
my love of many a shaved hair on chest
of such a baby face
30-something year old man
pronounce the words of power
to open this temple of you
say “please be mine”
and I shall open my behind
answering “please, make me yours”.

Whistle

2006-06-15T15:30:00.000-07:00

Whistle,
whistle-me-not
as I try to perform
or maybe not,
God knows I cannot hold an erection
for too long
whistle-blower
do not annouce this illegal activity
at the back of your yard
do not fingerpoint
as I’m plowed in and out
by phallic objects
and other nonsense
for we know I only do it
out of spiteful vengeance
against myself
be it in public or inside a picket fence
whistle,
whistle-me-not
enjoy the sight but do not fingerpoint
or call the police
‘cause this is revenge
against myself
for getting the “cookie monster”
inside of me
along with phallic objects
and other nonsense.

Persimmon

2006-06-15T15:29:00.000-07:00

Don’t be afraid to be weak
‘cause this poem has a fruity aftertaste
go to the Southern bayou belle
telling you not to mix your acerolas
with her carefully woven
and tendered with care
Japanese persimmons
in Cayun voodoo soil of hoodoo
return to yourself
to your cry,
to the tears of hardwood destiny
the one that you carved with your hard work
the persimmons you brought me
last year
go back and don’t be afraid
of this poem with a fruity aftertaste
‘cause the bayou belle
won’t forgive you
if you astray.

Galore

2006-06-15T15:28:00.000-07:00

Give love,
but don’t go
spreading love’s galore
like butter in bread
‘cause the commandment
was to love thy neighbor
not to give ‘im some sugar
‘case he might give you some
in return
cake in the oven
or crabs in thy pubes.

Wigwam

2006-06-08T12:35:00.000-07:00

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
whether Algonquian or Abnaki
Snowcloud-Walks-Best-in-Air
she was scorned in the wigwam
back in rez
when Reagan was the prez
she was cute
to my mother when she was me
to my grandma when she was ma
hating the guts of man
for many rapings and wife-beatings
bulls were drowned in booze
as were the buffalos of this area
much drunk like
Bald-Eagle-I-Can’t-Fly-Anymore
if me feathers and me are cut to zero ground
hell hath no fury like a child scorned
whether Hispano, Hippy (with capital H),
or simply mixed up in the melting pot
of England, Ireland and far-fetched Puerto Rico
you should see me in the air tonight
walking like Snowcloud-Walks-Best-in-Air
taught my grandma, who taught my ma,
who completely forgot
and I had to remember,
by means of pure reminiscense
brilliant white hair becomes us
canyon wrinkles in our faces
in the wigwam
our faces are wigwams
we dare to survive.
Hell hath no fury like us.

Propeller

2006-06-08T12:34:00.000-07:00

Crone me out out this crown
walk me all the way
to the River Styx
where the cruising awaits
crossing to the otherside
with a propeller at the back of the boat
to take advantage of the boreals
just get me there already
don’t take the long road
make haste
and let the gremlins in this forsaken machine
rejoice in the pain
of cancer in my bones
for in Hell, that is the sweetest sting
propell me to Hell
violent the flames blue, green, red
burn my fury into nothing
for compared to You, His Infernal Majesty
i’m nothing
not even a drop of Styx
not even a sparkle of the multitude of thy torches
insert an umbrella in the back of me
and open it in fire
open fire to my guts
that my pain shall be nothing
compared to Yer name
Dark Lord of Infernal Glory
many are thy names
but they escape me
as the cancer in my bones escapes too
to this mind that shall marry yours
as soon as i get to the otherside
of these many tears i cried the Styx
i shall get there
if Ye lend this propeller
some of thy fire and power
so that i can impale myself
in thy Hellish Majesty.

Satellitium

2006-06-08T12:29:00.000-07:00

Stargazing is not as powerful
as belonging
to the scrying hearts
of celestial bodies
in that chain of lights we call Orion
as my father told me once
that we descend from the starts
that indeed we come from Nephilim
the star children of Orion
that the Kybalion is as true
as its Kabbalah counterpart
always urging us forward
telling us its not such a bad thing to be enclosed
whether it be in a closet, or in ourselves
stars are always there
to guide us to the King
bless the child ‘cause he’s been born
in the middle of the satellitium
the chain of Orion
enbedded in our minds
for we were not there
never there
but that is why
as my father always said
stargazing is not as powerful
as belonging.

Anchor Lays

2006-06-08T12:28:00.000-07:00

I believe live near the lighthouse
to the lighthouse I go in books
if God can muster
and master his Creation Equation
and teach it to us all.

I dig deep in waters
of his abysmal dread and beauty
waters of cloud and moonlight
fog and waste
fish and marrow
to search for your truth only
never mine
as I will always live near the lighthouse
to give off my light
and guide your ship
through moonless, stormy nights
when I could care less for tornadoes of wind and water
and the will o’ wisps in trees nearby
if you know that I mean, those that are dead
and look to take care
of our own wicked ways.

Sing me your lay
ballad of the anchor
with which I ground my neck
with the Ropes of the Saint
in order to believe in Me
and only Me
and the power of Me
as I make you come
become
created…

Electricity

2006-06-08T12:25:00.000-07:00

That shadow in the sky
it looks like rain
or my sister magus
the one they called witch
electric witch
“fosforito” burning the candle at both ends
electricity is in the air
instead of love
when my sister magus is around.

Brainchild

2006-05-19T08:06:00.000-07:00

Love is the purpose
war is the means
bring forth the Brainchild
complete the spell
with Blood O’Life
and the Sphere of Resurrection
in the Halls of Continuity
so that the invention
can be exalted with fire
water, air, and other toxins
this fire of dark, light and gravity
this Flare of Ultima-tum
bring me back to life
bring me back to life
as I cannot stop desiring to live
in this peace-ful place
we call the Farplane.

Love is the purpose
war is the means
if I cannot stop death
I shall join it
gene by gene
thread by thread
I shall imbue myself with thy scythe
as the Lord of the Lake presents his naked sword
love is the purpose
always shall be
in this pumpous carnival of fellatio
to bring me back to life
always bring me back to life.

Advent

2006-05-16T11:18:00.000-07:00

One in a million obertures
ye are free to despise
in this mad world
if Advent is the name of yer savior
force me to swear that I saw him outside
killing runaway bunnies and stray dogs
plush your pretty penny in our oasis
blur the sight of such majesty
and point thy sacred arrow to the sky
so I can purify God’s thoughts
of this mad world
prepare thy obertures
for the magma
latent Advent of our sky
bring us Salvation and Scatterheart
our beloved (s)words
with pointy shadows
of magical rev(f)erence.
There is a supersonic sun in my mouth
as I swim into thy Womb of Oblivion
swimming in this mad world
like the advent-herald-harbinger
of delightful delirium
bring us the Anchor Song and the Flower of Carnage
to kill this crazy man inside
of many gods in this mad world
mental, mental, mental
one in a million obertures of Advent
wouldnnae cure a germ of the brain
not even with pretty penny from Porn Los Angeles
if ye know my thoughts and thus, what I mean
for ye are the Verb, as much as I be
a mere period, comma, or a simple parenthesis
please, undo this theater sin in unison
for there shall be our will
to remap thy mind
and reprogram thy thoughts
as much as I want to reset mine
in sweet Nirvana-strawberry-fields-forever.

Irie

2006-05-16T11:17:00.001-07:00

Give me your blue sphere
power of planetary
to shape the demiurge of God
in irie butterflies
25 going on 30.

Forget the planets
and alignments of stars
to finally locate Shamballa
just cast your spell
and give me your power
to be free of thy infernal majesty.

Rose of thirteen petals
lotus green of formidable smell
I remember it well
‘ twas the 17th of the current month
in another time, another plane
flying from PR to CT, then driving to MA
if you try my jet lag
you shall be spared my patience.

The spell is woven
it says your name and mine
intertwined in magical forgery
so that you love me forever
without mourning my departure
to the Kingdom of Many Hearts and Lotuses
until you cannot eat
or sleep
sweet sorcery
to lead an irie life afterlife.

Balladeer

2006-05-16T11:17:00.000-07:00

Go against the teachings
spare time for piercings
in undead places
look for Reaper Hill
and sing along the balladeer
of ending the world together
with Carthage, Sodom and Alexandria
with merchants going around in ancient Venice
while I drop some drops of saliva
bearing you in my soul
changing the panorama
with the visage of you inside my womb
male womb
praying that you come out alive
in Carnivàles of witchy-bitchy dark souls
sing along the balladeer
of white slik floating down from Bone Heaven
to feather you with a new life
not in Reaper Hill, but in the Silent One
let devils cry and harpies wail of woe
as my own persona Orpheus
cuts his own head to live forever
in the lays of us, ballading our history
together.
Forever together.

Blitz

2006-05-16T11:16:00.000-07:00

Forgive the bombardment of 1940
if you can suppres your feelings of anger
towards the genocide
and those who call it Holobullshit
believe in your blue star of six points
and male long beards
and those who can actually carry out a tune.

False hope tell us
the syndrome won’t reappear ever again
but should I fail
in my quest to become god
please don’t let it all go forgotten
for forgiveness is nothing
without the memoires of the dark.

Dust Devil

2006-05-11T20:00:00.000-07:00

San Juan, let them know your fury
show them your rabbies in between teeth
as children scared cry for their lost mothers
in the shopping mall
shopping mall singing Tom Green
San Juan, show them your journalists
and their yellow
like yellow face in Sin City
show them that you too can close down the government
for even more time than Minnesota when Ventura stepped down
show them that the wind here can produce sandstorms
Show them San Juan
that you can also get your own killed
at the back of steak restaurants
at a not so chilly night
show them San Juan
that you are a terror sublime
to be reckoned with at nights of eternal graveyard –shifts-
show them, San Juan
that your people sleep even when they seem to be
in the eternal wake of Oller’s painting
show them your people are submitted to the core
that you can whip them with 4%, 5% and 7% and they won’t protest
of course, with the exception of sindicate leaders
in prey of their own interests, like the rest of you, San Juan
dust devil of winds drown to the ground
wish you could be grounded
for a week,
for a month
forever.

Unsent

2006-05-11T19:59:00.000-07:00

For light you ears shall see
remnants of a star
like remnants of Grandma
that you can only see
in theory.

This light is time
as it stands by
purple cherry blossom tree
samurai sword in hand
very Japanese.

Light is your only being
as I tell you
that you have been dead for quite a bit
beyond the fields of Granada
as they show you
how nothing physical remains of a star
nothing like just the light.

I will not send you off
a summoner of
the light and sound the bear you name
-for you, my dear, are
chimes made marrow,
blood of my music
the smiling lips of my poetry.
You shall remain with me.

With arms wide open

2006-02-20T17:59:00.000-08:00

to receive ye
in my innermost
and must humble of shipdecks
shipwrecks if you must
for I was lost without ye
until ye came along
with arms wide open
now everything has changed
i'll show you love
i'll show you everything
to receive ye
in the palm of my hand
within a dream contained
for all the love of thyne worlds
in this Sphere O' Springs
I shall receive ye
with arms wide open
under the sunlight
welcome to this place
i'll show ye everything
for lack of love shall not be
this demand of tears upon you hair
failling to explain you my sacrifice
and how come you are still alive
in the middle of needles and bullets
and how come I'm still alive
because you are
with arms wide open
and tears of joy
WE"VE CREATED LIFE!!!!
with arms wide open...

Yours truly, Chaos

2006-02-06T13:38:00.000-08:00

Night.
As I always told ye
'twas the end of the world
as stars and night
we called upon thee
summoned dear Lord
of frozen silk in the air
student strikes in San Juan
fallen teachers of fallen hair.
Night.
As I pictured it in me head
cleaning me glasses with raspy cotton
falling without earrings
and other shameful piercings
trying not to care about
this unread poetry
painting
writing
forever looking for the next
Night.
As I called it
upon the storm inside
me cup of Earl Grey
rotten Jasmine to me head
opening me ass further
with a tiny kitchen knife
just because I could and wanted.
Night.
Stars more alive than me
far away from me own satellite
as ye all kill me softly
with this song telling my whole life
with these words killing me softly
until I womit the few fireflies
I got me left.
Night.
Forever yours.
Yours truly.

Snow

2006-02-06T13:36:00.000-08:00

Totem poel fits thy heaven
as sky goes rotten blue
over cold desert
with fine company
to fish inside perfect circles
where penguins go to dive
whether or not you want to call it the North Pole
I was there
rounding up some clouds
springs of liquid mana for the earth
reflecting on Eskimos
and how they got 400 words for snow
when I only got me 2:
your eyes.

Pageturner

2006-02-06T13:34:00.000-08:00

So write
if I be reader of you
stand fast
if you cannot blame me
for dropping a book
at the very middle
if I can't turn another page
out of boredom
say,
have I ever read Paul Auster?
No? Shame on me!
Elfriede Jelinek?
No? Shame on me, mutherfucker!
Perhaps it be fantasy
and how Mr. Potter never drops me
like winds to one of the Walenda Brothers
for I can always trust ye
to help me turn thy page
to make me live again.

Saffron

2006-02-06T13:28:00.000-08:00

If "safran" means writer
then I'm saffron
borne out of water and womb
pink, flames
a deathseeker with words
in times of too many mean nothing
in time sof too many writers
fighting for a space
consumed over and over
by thy flames
of nothing.
If Jew is "usurer"
then i'm sea
requesting this vacuum forever
until wind becomes red
filled with saffron powder
gun powder
born out of earth and womb
to go out in a bang,