Monday, January 14, 2013

Where To Fit In

Don't think heaven is free
You must pay a renter’s fee
Space is hard to find cuz people stay a very long time
You want a room here?
We got 40 billion people living in a studio
Look out the window you can see hell on the horizon
God is our landlord
He never gives heat cuz heaven is cold
He says you must pay me in gold if you want to save your soul if
You’ll be sent to hell if you can't afford the rent
There are nice co ops but they’re filled with spirits rising from cemetery plots
Angels sit on the co op board and complain how recent tenants have spilled sin all over the new wall to wall carpets
Space as at a premium but we have nice time share locations
All the rich live in the projects on the south side
The poor live in beach condos
People are always moving in and bitching about why no animals are allowed in the apartments
Yes heaven is not free
What were you thinking getting a two year lease that never ever expires
And yes after 30 days you can still be evicted if you break one of the ten rules of conduct
Management reserves the right to evict any resident
Don't fall behind in your rent because every day their are  a million new tenants
Yes heaven is over crowed
The price is very high it's the only place everyone wants to go but is afraid of the expensive long hearse death ride
Hell is free everybody is accepted no discrimination.
The devil slumlord turns up the heat in the summer
There is no running water
No lights
Fights every nights
Constant break ins
No rules or regulations
The staircases are never clean
Paint peeling walls filled with lead poison
Billions of squatters live in burned out buildings
The angels are all full time arsonists
Everyday a new building is set on fire
Everybody complains
Satan says what do you expect when everything is free
5 trillion homeless sleep on the streets
Yes hell is overcrowded and all the doors are locked
It's one big prison
A list of all your sins is display proudly in full color tattoos
The inmates run the asylum
Yes Satan is the warden everyday burned rice and beans are served
There are no correction officers, no cops
Every other second another prisoner is shanked
Hell is dark and stank
The criminally insane sit on the co op board and only the worst of the worst get to live in best apartments in the basement
Yes hell is overcrowded

Sunday, December 16, 2012

MyLife Is Hungry


Dying of thirst
lost in a wild fire
burned by blow back
stomach growling
fingers twitching
trying to reach and grasp the wind
my life is oozing slowly like wounds that won’t heal
blood drips from my soul as everything folds
I hear the drunk Hispanic man on 168 Street and Broadway yelling out mi vida, mi vida, mi vida, tengo hambre,
hungry for what I can’t have
hungry for what my hands fail to hold
thirsty for my brain lost in my psychosis
not rooted in reality
my life’s in a tail spin
a free for all fall 
parched in the driest desert
waking in pools of fear
on the precipice of disaster
trying to run faster
I can’t catch my breath
running from death
my life is starving
shriveled up and anorexic
depressed and dejected
spiraling down like a slinky on the steps of Machu Picchu  
no food can feed me
liquid fails to satisfy my cotton mouth
I’m lost on the summit in a moment I will plummet
my life is falling apart like a Volkswagen with 400,000 miles on it
The inside is dying
waiting to die
my spirit is frying
my life is hungry 

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Venting Again


I want to vent about the crack heads in the ghetto
The meth mouths in the middle and south
I want to vent about fracking dirty water and worldwide genocides
The new world order the free masons and
Fi Bata Capa’s sorority and frat house hazing
The on coming apocalypses cops’ glock clips and slave master whips
The holocaust and all that was lost
Harvard and Yale graduates on welfare lines
a sign of desperate times
I want to vent like the 99 percent about the mistreatment
Climate change and global warming and the on coming ice age that is forming
Disfigured and deformed lab animals.
The treatment of cattle M16 gun rattle in a senseless battle
I want to vent about the poor and indigent dying by the millions of aids
because of drug companies making money on pharmaceutical cures while Magic Johnson analyzes NBA games with his HIV looking in perfect health
I want to vent about the abundance of wealth kept to self
And covert missions marked as stealth
Private wars by black water and black ops
The hijacking of the Internet the censorship fighting in the Middle East
and embargo in the Gaza strip
I want to vent about the high drop out rate of truant high school students
and unemployment numbers zooming up like a thermometer in the Sahara desert
Children in third world countries living in shantytown shacks and sleeping on dirt
Acid rain pollution and nuclear waste
first amendment rights and the constitution defaced
I want to vent about child porn and the sex trade
children loosing limbs and legs to land minds and grenades
Republican’s threaten to cut Social Security while
spending trillions on homeland Security
I want to vent about sending people to outer space while whole families are displaced and the ongoing arms race
The United States government smuggling and selling cocaine
paying $12 a pack for Marlboro cigarettes while doing under handed deals ‘
in back alleys to cop a dime bag of weed
Legalize that shit already
I want to vent about pregnant moms on heroin
Like Neil Young said “I’ve seen the needle and the damage done.”
I want to vent and let it all hang out like an ass-naked 352 woman
strolling down Wall Street
More to say then I can write more to write then I can say

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Lost In The Tech Age


I forgot my password
Can’t seem to remember it
I did not forget the whole thing
Oh no I did
What was my username?
What? I forgot that too
Damn
Now I can’t work on my website
Got to call the tech guy
Now he asked what is my customer id
I said excuse me what’s that
I spend time entering possible combinations
I know one of them has to work, has to
I try different letters and numbers
My frustration grows as I keep getting that same wrong password window
The browser mocks me YOU FORGOT YOUR PASSWORD
So many numbers and passwords form debit card, locker, bank number, depart of Ed employee number social security, checking account myspace, gmail, hotmail, facebook, twitter 
It’s all too much to keep in my head
My computer remembers all my log in information
But from time to time some how the info gets lost on my hard drive
What is my secret question?
What’s the answer to my secret question?
Which email account did I use to register for this site
I want to see my home page
Should have wrote down the stuff on a sticky note
Or put it in a word file
I smack myself in the forehead
I curse myself
I forgot my password to my email
How can I check my email to get the new temporary password?
My nightmare continues
Did I use upper or lower case letters?
Did I use symbols and numbers?
I start to pull out my hair
Wrong password
Wrong username
Wrong password
Wrong username
It’s highlighted in red
I watch the page reload and hope this time it will work
my faulty memory
I think maybe I should just say fuck it and start a new account
But what about all my emails all my friends and followers
I image tons of important emails coming in that I can’t check
People leaving incredible comments on my facebook page
Having one hundred new followers on twitter
Having hundreds of hits on my flickr photos
I take a deep breath and sigh
I watch the little dots appear on the screen in the password box
I cross my fingers and toes
I try and try like some hacker trying to break a code
I want to explode
Finally I remember the email account I used
I check the email
Get my username and new temporary password
Go back to the website
Type everything in again
It’s a miracle I can see all my shit
I create a new password but again I don’t write it down
Set to repeat the same thing over again

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Mic check Mic check


We are back again I represent the 99 percent
Who resents the one percent who has all the money that is spent
They got millions and billons to satisfy the greedy
They don’t care to feed the needy
We camp out and protest the mess
of this so-called democratic process
We march and demonstrate to try to alter our fate

Plastic bullets are fired and still we remain inspired
Tear gas is thrown in the crowd
panic sweeps through like a jet stream in the fogginess
We wonder where is the freedom where is the justice
What crime did we commit?

No one is read their rights. It’s not explained why they’re detained
Americans young old from all backgrounds and colors
dragged with plastic handcuffs on their wrists
Thousands arrested when we protest and resist
Someone’s forgotten my first amendment rights
Someone’s forgotten my right to free assembly
Someone has forgotten this is a democracy

The 99% reach out and rise from a flicker on Wall Street
to a flame burning through our countries main streets to
around the world north south west and east
Hear the sound of marching feet to defeat the elite
We protest against the bankers’ bailouts
We protest against foreclosed homes
Our outrageous student loans
Against our working homeless
We stand against big money in politics
We demand healthcare for the poor who are sick
We amass to stand against corporate greed
We chant for freedom from poverty for those in need

The police come in the dead of night and rip
down our protest signs
They rip down tents and tarps
They trash thousands of library books
They herd us with horses to force us to change
our marching courses
spray us with mace,
fence us in with blockades
The right wing money controlled media turns a blind eye
What is their reply?
Will you sit idly by?
What is the future for our children in this economy?

This country is full of irony
We condemn other countries for limiting freedom of speech
but can’t see our own hypocrisy
Corporations are not people
We need a country that is equal
So mic check this nation
Let the unions take to the streets
Demonstrate a strike
Let us close down ports in Oakland California New York and Florida
Demonstrate in the streets of D.C.
Occupy Wall Street close down the stock exchange
We are the 99 percent screaming it’s time for a change.
     



Monday, November 28, 2011

I have more to say then I can write

I have more to say then I can write


More to write then I can say
More to do then can be done
More to remember then I can forget
Pursuits and quests take me on a mental voyage wresting through intellectual seas
I envision a better me in the future
In Seconds there’s a vast improvement to my empathy
As humanity’s cries are crushed under the weight of one trillion dollars they holler
Couldn’t you have spared a few dollars so my baby has clean water to drink?
Can’t you spare a few euros so for some clean clothes?
Nobody knows the depth of a man’s despair when he’s entrapped in enslavement
Mentally, physically, spiritually,
As is done to us daily because we’re the 99 percent
Two black holes colliding is the gripping emotion of a man before a vile action is taken
Changing his destiny like a shifting of the axis on the intergalactic seascape
How can he recapture his yesterdays
his purity
his innocence?
Now most of us are penniless
His fortune fueled by his missteps
We walk this planet with unhealed bleeding wounds on our souls
And I keep trying to imagine a healing of the injury a complete recovery
To return to a whole state of being
Not only for me but for this great nation
We are made in unique perfection selected for prominence
No matter your name
No matter your color
No matter your country
We are made for brilliance,
To see our destiny and shine
I have more to say then I can write

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The Sanctity of Marriage

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He watches the playboy channel and masturbates in front of his wife
she thinks he’s lost his mind
to be doing this in front of her after all this time
She just sucked his dick for the first time
but could not bring herself to swallow the sperm
she was concerned
Now she wonders if he’s cheating and it’s not just his dick he’s beating
She sees porn girls on his FaceBook account
there was an intervention with his mother in-law and wife
he cried and said he didn’t know his intentions
did he have to mention a proposition from a women about a sexual position?
how could he stray with four kids and claims he wants another baby by the way
he jerks his wifes head down and pushes it towards his cock
she tells him to stop
and puts him on a sex diet
he is starving to hit it
the drama unfolds as his teenage son puts his two cents in the dispute
on Twitter he follows girls who are cute
maybe he really want a prostitute
he wants his woman to be bitch hoe and mother to his kids
she doesn’t know what to make of his change of attitude
treats her ike some slut he wishes to poke
she said he’s kind of crude
he went to therapy
to cure him of what he couldn’t see
and after one session he said now I see the problem is you not me
now he looks at her with hate
she looks at him and cries
he complains his early twenties wild oats times was deprived
now he’s staying with his sister
hopefully the marriage won’t end up in an infidelity smoke

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

America's Apology

Congress was in session

to apologize for 400 years of oppression

in succession

America are you really sorry for the slave ships

for the bull whips

for the lynching and raping

for killing of slaves who were escaping

it’s a hole in your history that's still gaping

the selling and buying

of humanity

couldn't you see this was insanity

looting nations for their population

did this bring some consternation

where is the give back for lifetimes of free labor and breaking of backs

to the billions of dollars made off of crops and cotton stacks

America look over the facts

this land is a ceiling and floor filled with bleeding cracks

Is your apology done down on bended knee

You try to forget the atrocity with little civility

A monetary apology for those descendents of slavery

Would be a better way to say sorry

For the mass graves of African slaves

The separation of families

America this is your history

Like an open wound no way to shut it

murders, raping and maiming

I'm sorry just doesn’t cut it

Thursday, January 20, 2011

I'm not down yet

Bring it
I sing it
Just gonna fling it
Go off the top and wing it
I got to do my best
So put me to the test
Let the troubles come son
And watch me overcome every one
This life is a constant fight
In the thick of the fight of my life
It’s life or death so i got to be set
it’s my survival instinct
I stay on the brink trying not to sink
So bring it
Yet another day
Another trouble
For the dubble-X
What’s next got to be ready for what ever
Death haunts me, wants to sever my connections
But I’m gonna survive this hurricane weather
Whatever it takes
I try not to break
So bring it
I can curve and move straight
Through the hard times
The tough binds
I won’t resign
On the edge of crossing the last line
Dancing on my last nerve
Tinkering on the edge caught in a wedge
So bring it
Another bad job
Another rowdy kid mob
I motivate watch me create
I got what it takes since I busted out the gate
So bring it watch me sting it
I’m cooked but not done
I get stunned
Get knocked to the mat
then I snap right back

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Ground Zero

A ground of heroes
Trying to save those who could not evade the day
A day that will never fade
Many buried under a trouble of rubble
Graves, unmarked graves
Bodies broken and torn beyond recognition
An unthinkable strike came to fruition
The devastation of man made creation
The situation seems bleak has havoc was wreaked
The Twin Towers was a symbol of power
Took years to build knocked down in less than an hour
These buildings etched our skyline
Most took for granted they’d stand the test of time
Workers inside typing, trading, clicking, mailing, faxing, emailing, talking, telephoning, walking, waiting, goofing off, debating, thinking of tonight, that they’d make love tonight or overcome a marital fight
In an instant their lives were gone, gone, gone
Thrown into terror this should’ve been an error
It’s a nightmare instead
This fear
This smoke
Did commercial planes fly into the World Trade Center?
My mind can’t get around it
can’t understand it.
The smoke rises out of the copy room window
Thick black smoke
Smoke to choke
Smoke to kill
A smoke of death
I stare into the distance expecting to see The Towers materialize before my eyes
The words fall out of peoples mouths and rest on my ears
Did you hear! The World Trade Centers fell! They’re gone!
Trying to process
to compute, how many people worked in those buildings, how many kids will not have a mother, a father, a bother, a sister, a boyfriend a girlfriend, a close friend, an enemy, a loved one a spouse
MISSING is the word that is flashed across the TV screen
M I S S I N G
So many missing
Missing in action,
Lost, disappeared into a cloud of dust - just like that - missing
How they’re missing them
Missing them
Hoping wishing
Praying looking
Countless sleepless nights.
“What floor were they on? It’s a phrase
What floor?
How high?
In our minds we imagine
We do the math
How fast could they get down to get out
Breakdowns shout.
The trauma of the tragedy is woven deep in my mind
The trauma of the traumatized as a nation needs therapy
I saw planes crash into buildings people burned alive
We have witnesses to see thousands die.
80 stories high people jump to their deaths
In my dreams I see it again and again

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Love is a dangerous disease

Love seizes you unexpectedly
changes you makes you act crazy
Many are quickly overcome with matters of the heart
Love lingers and drifts in your vicinity
Love hovers suddenly like a helicopter
It makes no sense and at last love is blind
Love finds us as we try to hide and avoid the collide
Once we get a taste of love its flavor lingers in our mouth
its hormones stay in our nostrils
love hangs and dangles from our lips
as hands trace naked bodies with thrusting hip
Love overwhelms and drowns its victims in a sea of emotions
Love never dies and in many cases is a terminal condition so
don't run to your physician cause he can only listen
no drugs or prescriptions can be given to make it subside
Big love is riding high waiting for your reply
some try to resist but it's hopeless
I must confess taking the Love fall strikes us all
Falling in love could make you lose your grip and slip
It's simple and at the same time complex
Sometimes it adds stress
Sometimes love breaks up or ends is success
Some fall in love over and over again and again
like there is no end the two try to blend to one
at times love comes undone like loosely
tied shoes or knots the love just stops
Does love grow cold when it gets old
When too much strife breaks up husband and wife
At times some love lasts for life
Other times loves takes hikes not to return
too bad the burn
Love should come easily
should be free as can be

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Graffiti Bust

My day begins with two tabs of Klonopin
Trying to make my anxiety run thin
Today is my day at court
No way to abort
My hands tingle and I run to bathroom twice
My bowels loosen as fear runs through my intestines
Inside of me is a question
I keep on guess’en
What will be the fine
Will I have to face a judge and cop prison time
No way to rewind
Stuck in a bind
I pay my $2.25
For a train ride
Head down to Franklin Street
In the city summer heat
I committed a graffiti crime I was outa line
Busted by undercovers in an unmarked gypsy cab
Things went bad
Arrested on a loisada street corner I could not get escape
Cops surrounded me like a round up
They took my bag and stickers and asked, “What’s your tag? Dupplex?” they pronounced it
I declined to correct DubbleX
hands cuffed tightly behind my back
they took my wallet ID and sticker pack
I told them I was mentally ill
My leg started shaking they told me to chill
They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital
I silently shook my head no
I had trouble getting into the back of the squad car
When the door was ajar
The portly Hispanic officer with a police badge around her neck told me sit down but first
I feared the worst
I did not want to go to prison
For my graffiti sin
But it was either go to the station in the blue and white car
or they offered the loony bin
I finally got in
I sat in the back begged them not to lock me up
I was nowhere near tough enuf when it comes to this stuff
The officer said you’ll get a ticket and go in front of a judge
My background will have a graffitied smudge
The round butch looking Latina officer led me inside the station
I could not believe my situation
She said maybe you’ll get off with a ticket
And we’ll 86 it
Then they found six prescriptions in my bag
The names of the medicines they could not pronounce
One officer flipped through the scripts and shook his head
I said maybe they will let me bounce
The Hispanic officer said you have to wait in the cell
Until the paper work was done then they’d bid me farewell
They took my belt and shoes
I sat there in my socks
Back and forth I rocked
Still in shock now I was locked
They gave me a pink ticket and released me
I was so happy to be prison free I could not see
Today is the court day I must face
A long line of people only one from the white race
All hoping to beat their case
Minorities like me
All copping a plea
One guy said he got a ticket for playing basketball in the park at nighttime
The sign said the park closed at dusk so the police made the bust
We passed the security checkpoint
They searched everything
Looking for a weapon I did not bring
I got upstairs a long line snaked through a large room
A guy behind me said plead not guilty
Another guy with dreads falling out of his head said
Back in the day he use to get up
Said graffiti is like a drug addiction
I need to grow up and get in remission
Finally I reached the window counter
I gave the woman I encountered my pink ticket which I had almost lost before when I switched to my new Ed Hardy bag
To my relief she said my case had been dismissed
The police failed to file their complaints, guess they didn’t care about this
I smiled and went on my way to do more graffiti the very next day

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Ethnic Domicile

Summer in Washington Heights
Dominicans open fire hydrants
releasing water at full pressure
The gutter is quickly turned into a river
People forced to hop over curbs to keep sandaled feet from getting wet
The water spews out like a jet
Kids dripping with sweat
Adults work a wrench to open the tightly twisted hydrant cap
Old coffee cans are held over hydrant as water shoots up high into the sun filled sky
Young kids get drenched
Garbage on the sidewalk leaves an unpleasant scent
Hamburger Meat gets grilled on street corners
Thousands sit on beach and lawn furniture in the street
In front of what used to be an old horse stable
Is now an electrical station
In front of dilapidated buildings
In front of ghetto shadows
Surrounded by lamppost light sitting in huddles
Lazily laying on bed comforters and sheets
Young mothers and children jam the stoop steps in front of the building forcing me to squeeze by
Kids draw with kaleidoscope of colorful chalk on the sidewalk
Loud merengue music is played deep into the heat of night boils
The music rises and burns from outdoor backyard patios and fries sizzle in the sun
Cold pushcarts carrying blocks of ice are pushed over cracked sidewalks
The sound of shaved ice as colorful flavors mix and melt in the day’s oppressive simmer
Thermometers reach triple digits
young women wear tight fitting shorts revealing their ass curves
Old women walk with black umbrellas posing as parasols
Young boys and men play baseball in traffic with green tennis balls a steel bat a square strike zone drawn on a post office red brick wall
People scatter as the ball is punished by the bat - zooms across the street at a rapid rate
Screams and laughter outside my dark window
Fights break out and nobody calls the cops
Grown men sit around squared tables and throw down white polka doted dominos
blunt marijuana smoke hangs in the humid air
cold beer and frozen water sales rise for bodegas
Iced coolers containing cold drinks and hotdogs get dragged and carried to the street
The black get blacker
The light skinned turn brown
The fair skinned burn
Young men stroll the hood in white wife beaters and play basketball bare-chested
hallway doors are propped open for a nonexistent breeze
street merchants fill the side walk selling junk at discount prices
way uptown in Washington Heights everybody waits for the sun to go down

Thursday, July 1, 2010

my phone is dying

talking fast
the battery won’t last
my phone is dying
it keeps on crying
it beeps and beeps
to tell me the battery is depleted
A new charge is needed
this phone call will end
can’t talk with my friends
all my phone numbers are locked inside this device
keeps singling me it’s out of life
my charger’s at home
I say fuck this stupid ass phone
Cell phones attached to waistbands
hanging out in pockets
swimming around in bags and purses
the cell rings I begin another frantic search
then curse when on its 5th ring the phone still can’t be located
Then the worst thing imaginable happens
the phone gets lost
The dreaded upheaval
It needs retrieval
You feel it in your chest
when your phone can’t be located you get stressed then depressed
Losing a phone is like losing your child
it's like a lover
always with you close by at your side
you call your phone from a prehistoric landline
and hear it ring again and again you hear your own voice message
you retrace your steps
go into stores
call the subway lost and found
but it still can’t be found.
The only number you remember is your own and your mother’s
Instantly you’ve lost all your contacts
all your friends your associates
if you’d simply blue toothed the numbers to your home computer
You sink to think of all the calls you’re missing
Yet you can still retrieve your voice messages
which merely serves to cause more anguish
you make a list of the people in your phone
suddenly you feel so alone
you weep and cry and moan
you could die
you want to hold a funeral service for your lost phone but you can’t call anyone to come
You dread the possibility that you may need to make new contacts and friends
you listen to your voice mail as people call again and again
they start to worry that something is wrong
you visualize all the texts coming in all un-replied
you see how much you have relied on technology
all your ring tones and mp3’s gone for eternity
You become religious and pray that the person who found it will have mercy on your soul they will call you to tell you they found your cell
But your phone is lost
how can they call you?
you hope and pray that maybe they will call one of your friends and they will
tell them who you are
You have nightmares that somebody is putting their grimy little hands on your phone
looking through all the nude pictures you sent to your lover
crank calling your contacts
these are the hard facts
you put up flyers around the neighborhood that read
“missing” with a snap shot of your
blackberry
iphone
flip phone
your sidekick
your rumors
you call your mom’s number
since suddenly she’s your only friend
she doesn’t even know what texting is
Your heart is broken - all hope is lost
you think maybe I should tell my service provider about all this
it’s too late international charges have been racked up
calls to Santa Domingo
London
Columbia
Tanzania
places you never heard of
all the service provider can do is offer you a new phone if you re-up for another year
You go to work depressed
try to recreate some semblance of your numbers
you ask a friend at work for her number
you become a detective, “Hey do you happen to know Lori’s number?”
You manage to get three numbers from there
you call each friend and accumulate more numbers
you wonder how you could make such a blunder
Your contacts are now at six
you sit shiva and cry because this time your phone has really died

Monday, May 17, 2010

Reclusive

I like to stay home alone in my own zone
unknown
I hate the crowds and the traffic
It’s all too drastic
I'm a psychotic derelict
Tired of red tape and rhetoric
In my mind things get hectic
I turn introspective
Myopic and self-explosive
Sometimes I don’t wanna live
So I sit in my solitude
No one to intrude on my foul mood
I exclude myself
and keep myself amused
Waste my time surfing the net
At least I’m not playing Russian roulette
With a hollow point bullet
I hate to go out and face the public
sometimes I get so paranoid I want to avoid everything
Safe in the cocoon of my room
Smelling the perfume of my gloom
I sit locked up in my 10 by 12
My personal jail cell where my creativity excels
Or gets repelled by urine smell
My own little hell
I hate seeing new faces
And going places
I get trapped in my own mind
held hostage in my house
accosted by loneliness
exhausted
I hate being on the go can’t take the city’s flow
I move too slow
Want to vanish like melting snow
As I sink to a all time new low
filled with anxiety
Trying to keep my sobriety
Hating nyc
Don’t wanna perform wanna stay withdrawn
Introverted mad perverted
encapsulised and internalized
Drowning in my own demise
Covered in an expression of depression
With inward eyes
Like Columbian coke is smuggled
I stay hidden in my struggle
Being reclusive is a means to an end

Monday, May 3, 2010

everything remains the same for clockers with glockers

I walk with a ditty bop
My soul is filled with hip hop
My jeans hang below my ass crack
I love to listen to rap
talk about firing a gat
I dream about being gangster
I want to live
and die gangster
I don't run with a crew cause I can hold my own
My rep will be shown
I long to hold a fat stash of cash
lamping on that corner trying to get that cheddar
More money can make my life better
I grew up in the streets with lots of welfare cheats while
I only had welfare to eat
Now my cheddar goes to buy clothes
ain't nothing cheap to wear
My gear is the latest style of the year
Got rings of bling I stay blowing blunt rings
My bullets sting
I’ll probably end up in sing sing
See death in the eyes of my pupils
I have no scruples
Lawless and heartless
cold-blooded
2-diamond earring studded
born with a gun in my waistband
grown up now I’m the man
dark ghetto nights don't faze me
cause I walk with a ditty bop
my life is filled with gun shots
I’m down with the illegal
My rage is lethal
Love getting into fights when I get mad tight
Jumping niggas on the regular
Top-notch competitor
I got long braids
my girl keeps my doo laced up
Life is rough but I handle my business
My stress escalates till I steam and evaporate
my enemies await a terrible fate
Their doom or mine is built on hate
I walk with an original gait
So I got my ditty bop and my black facemask
rolling up on suckers is completing my task
I'll be keepin’ it real to my last gasp

Thursday, April 22, 2010

I'M Da BoMb!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m like dynamite with nitroglycerin
so you better keep listenin'
I gleam to the extreme
got you at gun point
rapid fire makes you transpire
I’m dangerous - no need to discuss
my mental state is unstable
got the schizophrenic label
but I can still cause mass hysteria
when you see me in the area
I’m the bomb
droppin’ napalm on Vietnam
let loose like an escapee running wild in your city
hit you with a death blow with my fist and my elbow
watch me grow like an afro
not an amateur but a pro
when it comes to the mic I hold
get on a roll
eat microphones like the cookie monster
got hunger for adjectives not your average words
trying to reach to the next level
step back and watch me levitate
while I create
another state of mind
intertwined with rhyme
commit poetry like a crime
someone dial 911 because here I come
on the dead run
like a motherfuckin’ freight train
dancing with the insane
no need to explain stay far away from the sane
I’m lazy - a lunatic a medicated derelict
but I stay mad sick
got more rhymes then a hoe who turns tricks
by sucking dirty dicks
I’m the bomb
so now let me just explode before I corrode
deep in my mode
writing poems in binary code
lining up my zeros and ones
don’t try to analyze my data
or be down with the haters
got my poetic radar ready to spar
my words leave you marred and scar
like you just got hit with a crow bar
I jump in my flow like liquid lava
erupt like a volcano but I’m no Pinero
I'm a lyrical pharaoh

Friday, March 19, 2010

MorE STixS






Sunday, March 7, 2010

Psychiatric State of Flux

A hopeful sunshine breaks free in my mind
I leave depression behind
maybe for good this time
I get caught in the mix between the ups and a ditch
then suddenly I switch
like a change up pitch
trying to re-grasp my grip
from the deadly slip
energy fills my body like the life of an Amazon
I come back from the gone
and move on
a new concoction of medical toxins
I wanted to jump out the window
to the concrete street below
embrace death with a warm hello
a voice inside said no
you will rise from this low
get back in your flow
on and on I go
to my last intro-duction
next production
next destruction
I wanna hit the summit
over come it
look back and say I done done it
like a plane loosing altitude abruptly I plummet
I go down in flames
crash land insane
keep looking for a way to escape my brain
and still remain
hearing voices in my head calling my name
the psychiatrist and therapist insist
something must be done about this
want to place me on the disability list
my creative abilities persist
can’t find a way to make money of this
so I pound my fist
and get pissed

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Mr. Porno Head

I began by reading Penthouse and playboy
Going through my mom's boyfriends magazines
his milk crate helped me take my first step into porno
I looked at the photos when I was nine or ten
I studied magazines made for horny men
Showed the zines to my sister we laughed at what we saw
Bare chested women, women with no drawers
Soon I wanted to see more and more
my little dick grew hard
I'd pull out the pin ups and do push ups over them on the floor
From porno books I moved on to phone sex
I called numbers to hear recorded messages of women who talked dirty
talking about sucking dicks shaking big tits
Whipping and tying a cock to a vacuum cleaner
The stories got worse and meaner
Drinking piss and taking golden showers
I'd listen for hours
My mother was upset when she got the phone bill
I thought maybe I should chill
This was not my will
I'd masturbate till my semen would spill
A cheap and expensive thrill
To save money I found free sex lines
So when the bill came my mother thought everything was fine
To save more money and keep from getting caught
I used a tape recorder to hear about rapes and fucks
mostly talking with some voice over moaning
I listened to the same stories again and again
Fantasizing about mysterious women
I imagined how they'd look
The sex line had me hooked
I'd jerk off till I had scabs on my dick
Because I just loved to cum thick
From phone sex I moved on to video porn
My sister had a boyfriend who had porn movies
I popped them in the VCR
And played my dick like a guitar
I sneaked into the living room when no one was home
Sat in front of the TV and watched as women got fucked licked and sucked
I lusted for action
My appetite and salaciousness grew stronger
I drew pictures of chicks with big tits
while measuring my dick with a ruler
I wanted it to be big like the guys in smut videos
My life moved on while my lewdness grew more intense
A made up vision of women giving head
Every night I gave in to my sensual cravings
The facsimile played over in my mind
a porno movie in my brain making me quite insane
Straining my cock veins
Women licking pussy or me eating out the box
To get off my rocks
It was so hard to stop
I was a virgin for long duration
I was so stuck on masturbation
When I finally had sex I married
a fridgid woman who only wanted less
So I moved on to Internet porn
to really turn me on
Tons of pictures to see
To satisfy my licentious curiosity
Bestiality was now a common reality
White girls and Asian chicks who digged big black dicks
Wet pussy lips
Two girls naked in a French kiss
Blondes and red heads
Lesbians with dildos
Sodomy
Ass licking
Deep throating till throwing up
Cum in the mouth
Cum swapping
BDSM
Dominatrix
Fem doms
Drinking piss
Beaten and tied
Spanked red bottoms
Lesbian squirt
Orgies
double stuffed
Old women with young guys
Old guys with young women
Fat women getting fucked hard
Nipple pinching
Foot fucking
Fisting
Two girls in 69
Forced sex
Teen sex
Sexy Latinas
Fucking machines
I found free videos
Downloaded shit from Limewire
Played it on my iPod
Suddenly only porno got me hard
I decided to have real sex
Just one dick and one pussy
I want this to be my fantasy
Because I am Mr. Porno head
And I wish one day he'll be dead
But my addiction to porno seduction
Is my affliction

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Fare Beating

I use to hop the turnstile
Back in the 90’s
the token cost $1.25 or $1.50
I'd stand by the bulletproof token booth
Waiting for the right time to strike
I did this mostly at night
I had to check the platform for cops
Did not want to get stopped
I looked around corners
trying to discover undercovers
they lurked in shadows
like ghosts with guns
if you got busted it was useless to run
hopping was easy when nobody was looking
you just pulled the turnstile back and slipped into the gap
got right through as long as you were not too fat
you had to wait real late until you heard the train pulling up
to jump the turnstile
You didn't want to stand on the platform to be detected
or get subjected to a ticket because of what you did
the fine was $50 dollars - a lot more then the train fare
you had to beware
I never got busted got away scot-free
Nowadays they fixed the little gap
Where that space was at
Moved on from the days of my fare beating ways

Thursday, February 11, 2010

BrOkEn WorDs

My words are broken cracked and bleeding
Peeling and misleading
Stepped on like coke burning
Like purple haze smoke
They’re spoken misspoken
Disappear like a New York City token
Ripped to shreds once they leave my head
Shot stabbed caught and nabbed
They’re broken to pieces like a puzzle
Words I guzzle my brain should be muzzled
They speak Spanglish a scrambled egg dish
Wounded like a soldier falling in battle
Bullet hole souls m16 rattle
Shrapnel lodged in your esophagus
Bum rushed trampled and crushed
Run over and wrecked
A hit and run
Whipped and chained
Churning insane
Tied and strained
Notorious and infamous
Hallucinating from LSD and Angel dust
broken words are heard over and over inside my mind
mixed up passed absurd
breaking like a curve
let loose like a canon
blasted from a boom box
totally unorthodox
ambidextrous and dyslexic
dissected and inspected
my broken words break like a wave
raped like a slave
exploded and imploded
running light years passed the sun
a train wreck crash landing
sinking like an anchor
words spilling black like a leaking tanker
arrested and detested
failing to stay sane
getting lost in my own brain
multiplied like atomic nuclei
released like radiation stickering the nation
confused with organization
broken words get lost like time
poetry is a victimless crime

Sunday, January 31, 2010

dubblex at pregunta

video


Thanks to Marilyn Thomas King for hosting La Pregunta and a kick ass show. Thanks to Dean Washington for videotaping. Thanks Fred Arcoleo, accompanying on guitar.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Choices

Bring it
I sing it
Just gonna fling it
Go off the top and wing it
I got to do my best
So put me to the test
Let the troubles come son
And watch me overcome every one
This life is a constant fight
In the thick of the fight of my life
It’s life or death so i got to be set
it’s my survival
It’s my instinct
I stay on the brink trying not to sink
So bring it
Yet another day
Another trouble
For the dubble-X
What’s next got to be ready for whatever
Death haunts me, wants to sever my connections
But I’m gonna survive this hurricane weather
Whatever it takes
I try not to break
So bring it
I can curve and move straight
Through the hard times
The tough binds
I won’t resign
On the edge of crossing the last line
Dancing on my last nerve
Tinkering on the edge caught in a wedge
So bring it
Another bad job
Another rowdy kid mob
I motivate watch me create
I got what it takes since I busted out the gate
So bring it watch me sting it
I’m cooked but not done
I get stunned
Get knocked to the mat
then I snap right back

Monday, January 18, 2010

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Pass The Hat

You stand in hot uncomfortable noisy subways
Underneath the city
Musical notes intermingled with your passing jingle
Dollar bills and spare change find their way into your hat
You play and play until notes go flat
You are that street musician
the one to whom we seldom listen
Maybe you used to be somebody maybe you were never anybody
you’re here to make it big to get discovered and pick up gigs
You’re that subway musician where people are forced to listen
Your sets are quick in between the next train licks
Your audience never remains
They leave mid verse well before your last note
music jams with breaking steel wheels
Corporate high heels
You play along to public service out of service announcements
And the untimely wrong notes of closing subway car doors
Some got CD’s to sell
You’re homeless
A deranged junky
you don’t speak English
Trying to hustle in the rush hour bustle
Some stare many don’t care
Trapped inside their ipods
You play on though drowned out completely while trains come and go
You’re that subway musician sweat dripping on your instrument
You play for hours with no electric power
That street beat some smile tap their feet to your beat
Some look from encapsulated plastic covered windows at your non-stop show
Your music gets lost in the roar of subway wind you catch a short grin
Another dollar another dime another moment in 4/4 time


* Check out Saw Lady's blog by
Natalia Paruz where she posted this poem:

Monday, January 11, 2010

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

A POCKET FULL OF POETRY

Folded creased and smushed
Sat on and crumbled
barely legible
chicken scratch writing
Number 2 pencil used
smearing like cried out mascara
Sun faded
fingers stained from making Jamaican greasy beef patties
Extra words written in margins with detour arrows to follow
Cross outs and skipped lines
Life’s pace unable to grasp unfinished endings
A pocketful of poetry like a full belly
A mouthful of birthday cake
Words imagined
captured and retained in ink as it sinks into thin sheets of wood
Other words dance in my mind long forgotten like rotten cheese
Most times my pockets contain the contents of
Loose change jingles intermittently with an assortment of jagged edged keys
a partially damaged CELL phone lies dormant deep in my pocket next to a tattered bill folded next to some grimy ones
The usual pocket hole as pens and pencils escape like fleeing
prisoners in the cover of darkness
I reach inside my pockets to retrieve words
Reflections of VISIONS of the day
Slanted perspective

Hungry and complete at the same time
These poems pop up anytime like crime
Sometimes words replace nickels and dimes
In the local grocery store,
the cashier is aghast that I possess no cash
a pocketful of poetry leaves a man poor
My pockets can only afford metaphors

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

The Money Changers

I got my check from the board of Ed bank
who got it from who knows
Who got it from who knows
so I got my check
put it in HSBC
first Amalgamated
Then HSBC
withdrew $60 cash
went to the deli
bought a bottle of water and a protein bar
Gave $4 to Brian cash register dude
in drawer end of day
2 of my 4 dollars goes to Juan the sandwich man in Deli
Juan goes to John the weed man to pick up a dub
John gives money to Jennifer, his supplier
She gives to Shawn who buys a strawberry filly blunt at the deli
His money is given to Miriam Liebowitz as change for coffee
She puts it under her mattress where her daughter discovers it 20 years later
And buys a pack of double mint gum and the money turns to change

Thursday, December 17, 2009

24-7 Hustlin

I’m a homeless marine who has AIDS
lost my apartment in a fire
got six kids and 2 cats to feed
sell candy to stay off the streets
I’m broke and it aint no joke
waiting for my unemployment EBT debit card
you can peep my ID
any food or spare change please
I’m hungry
anything you can give even a penny helps
they cut off my SSI
I play congas,
guitar,
saxophone
bucket drums,
steel drums
I sing
break dance,
rap,
recite poetry,
play the sitar and air guitar
Down on my luck
begging for a buck
I hustle chess games
sell watches and trash for fast cash
old radios with tape decks
pre-HD TVs
worn down shoes
old toys
remote controls
electronic zebras
tools
lamps
shirts and pants
I’m African
European
Czechoslovakian
Hawaiian
Puerto Rican
Dominican
Haitian
St. Lucian
Mexican
Indian
American
my skin color is
white
brown
pink
safire
topaz and lavender
I sell on 33rd street and Broadway
on the 1 line
on the A train to Harlem
W to queens
JMZ to Brooklyn
5 train to the Bronx
I play jazz
rock
calypso
reggae
mariachi
blues
electric and acoustic
I play on 8th street
in the subway
I sell old books
used jerk off magazines
sing do-wop hits
Records
bongs and crack pipes
I whisper in a loud raspy hoarse voice
I’m the unheard cry from NYC
stagger from ghettos
roof tops
corner spots
shelters
subway cars
train tunnels
beaches to boon docks
I’m the unheard voice crying in the New York City wilderness
shaving summer ices in tropical flavors in small white Dixie cups
dripping down hands making sticky fingers
freshly squeezed orange juice
Cuchifritos from illegally parked trucks
bottles of water on the highway
I search for cans and bottles to get change
look for left behind quarters in pay phones
pick through the rich man’s garbage
I mug for a meal
sell dime bags and rocks to people who want to cop
prostitute myself
sell quick fucks and $20 blow jobs
hold up hard-to-read cardboard signs
I’m an unwanted gypsy
Feel my pain
I’m a throw away just trying to survive the day
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