Say It Louder

I say word and my words are heard over the sound of the rushing herd I emerge with words heard all over the universe I try to splurge on my flashy words that I merge say word say word in agreement of my poetic achievement say word as I mix the vocal rhyme to a frenzy say word as I MC to eternity say word as I try to elevate my mind state say word and sit back and watch me operate say word as I try to make the world shake say word as I originate a verbal chef words I bake then cool to refrigerate to try to effect your mind state say word say word

back in time to rhyme

I am a spray can with a wall of possibilities
I shoot out in all directions and color infinity
With a psychedelic kaleidoscopic of eternal hope
I float through time with my rhyme
I walk backward thru my past lives
And understand there is only one day
One minute one second one small tick of the clock
That’s why I got to rock the spot non-stop
I am swirls of Jackson Pollock paint spilling exploding in a black universe
Streaking light years past the sun I am lost and found in a vortex the ever-drifting dubblex

Carnal knowledge

My fingertips hunt your flesh
I long for your embrace
Like a parched man yearns for chilled liquids
In my mind I envision you threadbare and naked
Panting for my affections
My soul dripping with passion
I study your ways and moves like a sailor navigates the seas
Determined to stir you to love me
I will control your responses to my advances
The romances and heartfelt glances
My hands, mouth and lips take their chances
As a wild animal looking for a mate
I stalk you as if my life depended on it
You live my tomorrows
You bear my future forth
I surrender to the past
Deny thee
Refuse me
Reject me
My desires overpower you
Like a North Shore wave
My desires toss you asunder
Intoxicate you
Release my serotonin rush of my concupiscence
With that - fully conquer you

rock the casbah

Today I rock the mic with all my might
in broad daylight to the crowds delight
I go on night after night
till I disappear out of sight
It's my pleasure to double the measure
digging up words like buried treasure
kicking lyrics that last forever
Sometimes the mic is my only companion
since I was mad young begun to drop rhymes off my tongue
way back from the womb I was sprung
from day one I was getting at it son
to become an architect of a rhyming dialect
the words I select come to wreck the set
my voice beats and booms and covers the room
and pretty soon you feel the rhythm of my a cappella tune
I am consumed with words in a poetic vacuum
I don’t know how to stop
coming at you like a karate chop reaching inner city blocks
spreading in waves like an aftershock
some day I hope to get my props
before death comes and I am dropped 6 feet under
until that day I will continue to rock
like a rhyming robot
I just feel this rhythmic need
Shooting words like my seed
Is my daily deed
Cut me and watch my words bleed
Trying to stay on the cutting edge
Wanting to jump off the ledge
But I don’t want to leave all my words behind
Getting lost in my own mind

We all die

I keep running from death
But it stays on my right and left
It follows me daily
Drains me of energy
I can’t escape the day
When I’ll be in the grave
Subjected to decay
Each sunrise I wonder if it will be the last one my eyes will see
I can’t stop my demise
Gray hairs and wrinkles accumulate
The time is getting late
I keep trying to create while awaiting my fate
There was a time I wasn’t here
Again I’ll disappear I fear
Don’t know how far or how near
Death follows us like shadows
Like red laser beams like poison tipped arrows
The clock is always ticking
Time is always running
Chasing us displacing us erasing us
So put on your best running shoes
Put the petal to the metal as you try to out run that bitch
But there is no way to hit the off switch
As you realize this is it
Time is almost done and what have you accomplished
We run and run and run but it still comes
It strikes some silently others violently
Everyday filled with its scent
It’s so unpleasant
Coffins and funerals
Is daily and usual
To the highest numerals
Wish there could be some way to slow down or stop time
It’s like that on coming train that’s rolling down the line
Death gets us all
Wealthy or impoverished we all get finished
From kings to junkies
Young to old
Death takes its toll
So let’s live while we still got time
Before that train comes down the line
Running out of time running out of time
Everyone wonders how they're going to die
That’s why when we see an accident we slow down when we drive by
We wonder how will our end come
Be it cancer, heart disease or suicide

Top secret classified document a bedtime story

The following report is submitted after much field study in the full scope and development of Project Separation Blue. This report shall provide evidence of the success of this boldly endeavored mission. We contacted the head of The American Broadcasting Company Ed Rothschild, and in our close door plunked in the New Jersey secret code 5475 under hidden Global Positioning System. There are now over 150 across the globe in well placed strategic hot spots.

In order to procure stage one Separation Blue our computer technology administrative attack division we overrode local news telecast vision state ABCXPJ Trenton. Their meteorologist Sandra Johnson is CTAD wonder dubbed their March 19th Dobbler satellite forecast with similar weather patterns from date 2006 February 21 2003. We alternated a Dobbler image with our military function ADOBEIMAGEUSX software.

Sandra Johnson is a local meteorologist as well as one present in the newsroom at 18 Beach Road and was aware of any change undetectable by any computer program below military fortitude. As planned at 05:12 Sandra Beverly Johnson delivered her weather forecast of 21/02/2003 substituted for 19/03/2006 the 21/2/2003 forecast and 19/03/2006 will be henceforth referenced to 19/03/2006.

Target date- T.D. 21/02/2003 original date- O.D. Sandra B. Johnson reports to all of The New Jersey viewing community the weather forecast of O.D. for T.D.

The original forecast was the low temperature of 36 degrees Fahrenheit and the high temperature of 42 degrees F.

The TD was low of 30 high of 41. On this day we used our telecommunicate Catch All Hub Substation to dragnet all text message and telecommunication, land line and wireless. We used our military search engine GoogleMax on all communication on Mar 20th and 21st related to weather. No abnormal chatter was detected out of the 80 zigabytes that was searched and sifted. Stage one of Separation Blue was for all intended purposes a stellar success.

Stage two we shoot down the Dobbler Satellite and replace it with our satellite. The official story will be that the satellite malfunctioned and had to be brought down in a controlled crash landing to prevent it from hitting Texas.

This report will only touch on brief key parts of the overall mission this document is limited to the RAGECAGE server username kennedykennedy: password ciakillers2%$00

Scanning of microchip bar code is as usual a requirement.

Separation Blue targeted weather Dubbed all over in each fifty states, each a stellar success with changes in degrees. Our hypotheses was right that Americans fully trust the news to tell them the truth about weather to a number 98.6 %. We already have experimented by either making the temperature 5 degrees more or less, and no one has discovered this anomaly.

Ms Liberties Endless Hunger

New York City seduces men
flashing her 42 teeth
calling them to her streets
with her castled skyline
and cash money sunshine
she holds out hopes of fame
once here she swallows your name
the world is called by her pleasure
but New Yorkers know her pain

the island of Manhattan
is a body of land
surrounded by water
Inwood is her head
tracing down to a Washington Heights meringue nights neck
sloping to strong Harlem shoulders

Spanish Harlem her left arm
morning side heights her right
Central Park her green treed heart
Broadway = her main blood vein
midtown, her intestines
riding the subway north to south
down in her guts
I'll make it just in time
riding the local C line
hidden from the sunshine
will make it just fine

Slinging words around for sounds

I call myself a poet because I stitch words together like a surgeon
I get this urge to scratch an itch to stitch it's my niche
Words come to me like soft whispered voices
they ring in my ears like magical bells
release a master piece paint a picture in your mind like van gogh when I am on my flow
that's how I roll scribbling on my electronic scroll
It's a battle in my mind to find the next line
my brain becomes obsessed with rhyme
possessed by time I pull words out my ass and dangle them in front of your eyes to memorize
I wanna burn my words in your skull tattoo them to your body
my verbal karate trying to reach out and touch everybody
words come and go like falling and melting snow I twist words like dreadlocks like a word sword with a gift to make images drift like sand is sifted I say my words like guitar riffs
they hang in the air like white smoke from a ganja spliff
want to get you high on my word supply
sit back and ride while my words are rattled off like a ghetto drive
by hitting their mark close to your heart like third rail sparks
arrows and poison tipped darts I hit my mark like a marksmen assassin striking again and again
I want to capture your full attention with the words I mention
want to bring you back to the now and make your forget yesterday caught in my word spray
I dictate my dictation to the poetry nation
an orator to bring elation with this new creation
My words hit the air and ignite like phosphorous
It’s a metaphor of a metamorphosis you can't resist what I spit

that wet pussy

I want to come inside for a deep love ride
want to put every inch in that pussy pinch ever since we first met
wanted to make you wet
see how wet you can get
make that smooth pussy honey trickle and pour down all around
want you to want me to hunt me
wanna catch you in my clutches feel the rushes when fingers and lips touches ignite the flame torch of desire that flickering fire
as you burn and drip in between your hips
wet pussy sips as the dick gets slipped
you want me to go down on you like an avenue
get that close up view of those lower lips to French kiss - you insist
My hands run across your flesh and feel the edges of your skin
I want to penetrate
let me in let's begin and do it again and again
That wet pussy calls me screams at me wails like a siren
I want to screw you - do you - come through you
it's a calling your gap cunt bush slit is what I want to hit
to pipe let's do it right I want you to be my personal slut,
bust my nut
I want to advance on you like an army invading the enemy
enter your dark juicy warm hole with my cock pole
sometimes I don't know how to start how to embark
you say you want more foreplay I hate the delay
you say I am boring want more excitement is your indictment
but I want to get to your sweet honey pot with my black cock now a rock I can't stop
That wet pussy saturated wanting to get penetrated previously stated ejaculated
It's a battle of wills before my love spills
Who will come first I try to hold back and relax
all the thrusting makes me want to come fast
you want me to make it last
You want me to be more passionate but I am to lethargic
but once that pussy gets wet I am set
Wanna stick it dick it come thick with it can't hold back on a love attack

Fresh Punishment

I got a record
not the one they play on radio stations
the one that plays in the police station
that gets you moved to a state facility
secure destination
a locked up location
correctional institution
they think jail is a solution
life never came at me correct
from birth, life’s treatment of me was suspect
filled with pain and neglect
mom’s stretching out the welfare check
living in a rat hole in a project
so now I got a record
from breaking and entering assault and armed robbery
they stick me in the penitentiary for half a century
my only education was the street
school didn’t reach me, didn’t teach me
labeled me Special Ed
never had a chance to get ahead
too many friends at a young age ending up dead
all I ever wanted was money
with a record like mine
after I’ve done my time
I have no choice but to commit more crime
who will hire me when they hear my record play,
I’ve sliced and diced mother fuckers like a DJ
no cats can survive on minimum wage
as I sit for my half a century- half my life
thinking how I can be better criminally
life gets worse I thirst for freedom
wish I could break my record and be done
as soon as I get out I know I’ll pick up my gun
not sure how not to live my life on the run

Rhyme Rotations

when I touch a mic it turns to smoke
my rhymes burn like fire to make you choke
don't get too close cause you'll soon discover
you won't recover
rhymes so fresh you flat line to cardiac arrest
my words drippen wet with mad success
am smooth like a diamond
loud like a siren
still be spitten in my 60's
there's no retiren
am like quicksilver
got a sheen like silk
so fucken bad I can't help myself
striken like an assassin without you asken
I rotate like a revolution
burn out mics and leave exhaust pollution
am MC2 the only solution
my words work hard like prostitution
I'm dubblex
doing my microphone flex
with rhythmical reps
don't step to me cause I get vexed when I get upset

Life Is Do Or Die

I am a mother fucking volcano
about to erupt
I spew word lava so get 3rd degree burns as I conduct this poem
mother fucken doctors should lock my ass up
I'm heating up
bubbling up
can't stay shut
words dance in my mind like a plie'
dancing a poetical ballet
As I relay the words I say
if my mouth was an automatic you'd get caught in my magazine gun spray
standing on the mountain top feeling the after shock
doing NYC with rhyme lava just like Pome Pei
A crazy ass nigga who rhymes to himself
is I and I, my friend myself
volcano lava is flowing from 0 to 60
red hot burning roots to trees
feel the hot breeze as I spit like a cobra
drunk or sober
even the skunks run from the smell of the word order
I try to hold it in
but there it goes again
your ears are always open so my words are coming in
listen closely then listen again
ash covers the sky a mile high
I told you from the start life is do or die
ain't no rain or water that will restore order
lava going catch you like an alien at the border
so here comes the slaughter
as body counts mount
the lava traps you - cuts off escape routes
volcanic word mechanic
I and I and out

trapped in a travesty

And she's sniffing that whiffing that sniffing that whiffing that sniffing that

that, that, that, white shit, that good shit, that shit that makes you want to do back flips

its all in her nose like a fucking garden hose like a white powdered rose

that good shit, that snow, that china white, that blow, that nose candy, that boga sugar that coca cola

she’s fighting against herself against herself against her wealth against her health.

She's losing her mind this time, losing her mind this time, I think I am losing my mind this time, losing my mind

Its a back and forth to and fro blow for blow, its too much blow too much dough don't wanna be a mother fucking hoe sometimes that's how it goes when you got’s to get your blow

do you know how it feels to lose control of your soul, control of your soul something inside you folds not because its old filled with mold and negative holes something folds and crack like a black hole and you try and try can't bring it back

I wake up, I wake up and scream where the fuck am I at, I can't look forward and I can't get back, can't get back, get back, my get back has faded to black someone dropped ink on my map can't counter act am trapped i get bitch slapped by the facts

I am going to die no matter how hard I fucking try I am going to die, die, die

I take my vitamins, go to the local gym, check in with my doctor, but something inside of me keeps ticking and tell me it’s gonna end.

I wake up and sleep, eat, wash and rinse, repeat and put my big-ass feet on the filthy concrete

walk these streets, these streets and something inside of me bleeds I stare up at a sky I can barely see.

I want to remember everything about this place about your face about my life chase I grab every moment of my life and place it in a travel bag to take it with me, take it with me, I want to make, take these memories, these dreadlocks and smiles from strangers and the separation I feel that's real, take it with me, but take it where, take it where, where?

sometimes the space between me and you and you and i and me and you is so great so wide so deep so deafening that nothing can bridge it. I open my eyes to recall I am trapped inside myself unable to reach you unable to touch unable to grab you unable to really see you

I long for a day that this loneliness and isolation won't plague me like a virus

appear to live in my own world, exist in my own head until I am dead

Death is coming like a speeding comet like that stray bullet like that line drive that smashes your skull like that murder it’s coming - like the lotto numbers each day I wonder is today my lucky number hey you never know

never know when its your time to go, time to go, that last curtain call, that last trip to the mall, that last toke of weed, that last line of blow

time to go

WHEN YOUR MONEY IS SHORT

When your money is short a train ride is expensive
A pack of gum out of question
You don’t even think about going to a movie
When your money is short
You work your hunches and fill up empty water bottles with pure faucet water
When your money is short
You look for sales on everything and can’t buy frivolous things
When a million commercials continuously inspire you not to purchase
When your money is short
You begin to steal for small items and meals you want but can’t pay for
You don’t even feel bad about it all anymore either
When your money is short
Your kids go without the right size shoes and clothes to small
When your money is short
Collection agency bills fill your mailbox plus a myriad of bills wanting to be paid
But you can’t pay them right now because your money is short
You wonder how long before eviction papers are served
How many more months can you hold on for when your money is short
You wish you could dip money in steroid cream and make it grow
You begin to play lotto and worst yet you think you might win
Your paycheck is always spent before you even get it
When your money is short

ABC

They are programming their programming
You are programmed this is the scam
It’s as easy as ABC
Programmed when and where to shit
Programmed when to stand and sit
Programmed what to think and what to say
Good morning afternoons and good days
I am tired of their god damn program
Tired of the advertising scam
Tired of the bullshit ass movies on surround sound screens
The garbage music with all beat box machines
The glossy compost news and fashion magazines
They make me want to scream

BIKE AGAIN - written for Peter who was in an accident

I will soon bike again
and drink the wind
I will once again watch my front wheel spin
once I heal from my broken shin
this dream will be a reality
can't wait to break these crutches
blow by the traffic like smoke
from blunt duchess
and I will once again sport my bike grin
and drink the wind

Bluetry by DubbleX with Violet

Days vanish in the world pool of time grabbing a few moments before the tsunami of tomorrow washes away memories in a violent abrupt reality and leaves you clinging to a branch of yesterday pulled out to sea to swim in a thousand tomorrows to be drowned in the whirl pool of today

Proletarians keep staring and wondering what happen to their millions
Society did not make me crazy but it certainly is not good for my sanity
Joy forces circles into squares it works for her
Sometimes life is forcing circles into squares

You rescue me
You are my EMS my NYPD my NYFD my doctor my nurse
You care for me when at my worst
You quench my love thirst

I get so fucking tired of talking to machines
I say stuff and machines don’t know what I mean
I get so vexed I start to scream
I push cell buttons
I press 0 for the operator but only the machine talks to me
They program it so that it has a slightly husky partly raspy computer voice
They even have a machine that talks in a black voice

I am gonna die you’re gonna die too but before we all leave this whole worlds gonna know that we came thru am who I am and do what I do
You do what do you do you let the world know that Dubblex and Violet came through

the only people that drown are the ones that panic,
I wanta chill gotta try do or die
maybe one day man won't die
maybe one day people will no longer cry
maybe one day will come
When color is nothing more then a rainbow in the sun

Life is one drop of bittersweet wine don’t whine dropping off the lips of time-spilled fine wine the drop runs off the table and stains the rug, splash, a new design
Is this life span in time before your drop-splashed life love as long as this dash between birth and death last
These atoms represent me
They are nameless; they are contained in me
My atoms go deep to my soul energy
Everything you see is made of vibrating energy
These atoms are me labeled walking upside down in my spiritual anatomy

Human Trafficking

started with slave ships
dark skinned Africans crossing the Atlantic
stripped whipped and cotton picked
started in the 1400’s
they stayed hungry and unfed
human traffic to drug smuggling heroin in swollen stomachs
balls of tightly wrapped plastic
moving in their intestines
hoping costumes will let them in
to Japanese street congestion to NYC Time Square walking pedestrians
destined to overlook this sin
Its red lights in the world’s red light districts
women peddled and sold to the rich treated like somebody’s bitch
their bodies bedded and abused
daily used as tools
they keep silent with head bent
deportation from this American nation
trapped in their situation
it’s the sex trade and young teens infected with aids
domestic human traffic
green light for illegal aliens with no green card a slavery prison without bars
Human traffic is the modern day slavery
in nations from a to z
women and children forced into prostitution
beaten in seclusion
it’s in the tens of thousands
Their cries die out what is this about
not finding the way out
Not knowing whom to turn to
To get back to a life they were use to
now on command they must do
Its human traffic caught in a gridlock that’s hard to stop
Because some people shop for humans hidden from cops
Used like they pick crops
now they are sucking wealth cocks
Smuggled in through loading docks
For this human livestock
the laws are mocked
With the influx of the flock
They may be on your block
Human traffic needs to heed the red light to stop

Waxing poetic city sounds

Daylight is slowly eclipsed as sunrays give way to lamppost dimly imitating their master
as long shadows uncoil over broad blocks
Night falls in such gloom and swaddles the city in bathed darkness
filaments flicker from large sullen corporate windows to small squared bathroom lookouts
moonlight absent nights that lack star luster
pollution covered small electric energies attempt to scare away darkness that clings like new born monkeys
once fast walking heavy sidewalks now roll out spaciously for lonesome sidewalk crawlers
head lights beam across cross walks and intersections
thousands of red lights vacant of obeying beings
sounds of buses and trucks rickshaw through momentary silence when fat rubber meets metal slabs with pothole crash
smash the constant rhythmic whiz of rapidly traveling vehicles with revved engines
wheels whipping rotating revolutions
Citizens staggering drunken steps
Indiscernible music gushes out of open night doors like un-dammed water
liquid sounds escape in the distance upon closing of ajar
muffled musical beats pulse basically
predators set traps for victims who step in their vicinity and use darkness to conceal their identity
thousands of mass transit buses cruise up and down broad avenues with numerous of empty seats bouncing wildly over bumps
once crowded cars of strap hangers now venture threw tunnels lonely with the few remaining rocked into deep slumber
once busy highways that previously held traffic for miles now show transient clearly revealing every bend and curve
Some neighborhoods are patrolled militarily others watch by closed circuit TV
stores are shut as glass is exchanged for folding steel
After hours inherit nocturnal night Nubians who flock to dimly lit establishments to dance incessantly
city creatures stare out windows
alley cats and wild dog packs roam now quiet streets hungrily
rodents and rats invade wasted giant black bags, which in the muted darkness appear as large globs
with each passing hour of darkness the moon begs to wake the sun out of hiding
slowly darkness recedes like low tide
the night with all its shadowy memories is quickly forgotten as burning light climbs the horizon again
a canopy of oak trees no longer able to conceal bright sun bursting blindness
light waves criss-cross the morning
black birds glide threw heavy mist laden fields
nearly blanked out of view by its thickness
Passers-by are mindless to this stark beauty as their own myopic dilemmas beset them and turn their visions inward toward foggy affairs of their own
I watch mist hover and caress the grass with dewy kisses
as oak trees relish in nutrient rays turning branch limbs leaning into life
long ago this scene happened for the first time
it continues its process duty bound to procedures
my heart is yet most fascinated with mist
as it’s duel state of moisture and cloudy mixture
I recall when I caught a glimpse of mist covered mountains peering their pointy peeks threw a plethora of plumy puffiness
Memories of green climbing the sky only to be seemingly decapitated by white vapor
Nature is ridiculed in city shadows
all but forgotten in the maze of subterraneous subway travelers
almost hidden by enormous flickering screens
flashing pixels fusing wattages glare
As populations populate postmodern art deco high rises
Bedraggled cities roll over beauty recklessly leaving a trail of ugliness for future beings
Is man not comfortable in his natural habitat?
former cave dwellers now live hundreds of feet above ground level
why does man feel the need to encapsulate himself in concrete cubicles
mechanical structures filled with straight lines and 90 degree angles?
as a testament to this unconsciousness I too am allergic to natures natural pollens
emotionally I find I am growing a repulsive reaction to city life
my soul slowly yearns to touch the land choked under tons of cemented sand

Life Is Like Weather

I gotta get my shit together
Because I ain't gonna live forever
My life shall soon be severed so I got to be clever
I've got to get my shit together
I've got to work harder and be smarter
can't let my guard down if I want to stay around
each day gets tougher and rougher
The problems build up from every angle
I can't seem to come untangled as I wrangle
I feel like I’m dangled over a cliff
I keep trying to get my shit together but with each setting of the sun
I am becoming more and more undone got no where to run
I am stunned at what I have become
I can't concentrate can't complete tasks that I’m asked to do
feeling like I am running dead last, sinking fast got to cover my ass
But wait hold up just give me more time to get my shit together
as everything unravels like a spool of thread
I reach for my tricks and life tools but lately ain't nothing seems to be clicking
let's break this shit up and take it from the beginning when it seemed like I was winning
now I am on a steady decline no way to rewind the many mistakes I have made over time
Listen listen just give me one more shot to clean up all this slop
Lately I’ve been drenched in my own stench shit is
Way Out Of Control can't take the toll falling in my own hole
I can't get my shit together it's too late to be clever when I was younger I would just push motivate to change my fate now seems like things are too late
My shit is everywhere as many stop and stare and watch me run and go nowhere
I am on a mad losing streak seems like I can no longer compete
my life is knocking me off my feet soon to be six feet deep
I can't get my shit together what I try doesn't seem to fly
my therapist keeps telling me to apply for SSI
I can no longer do my job the classroom has turned into an unruly mob
I’m in deep shit - just want to quit can't take this shit
But gimme a minute I got to get my shit together
get tough like leather cause it's now or never

Check What’s Legal

6 grams of pot is all I got
yet I got handcuffed by cops
locked straight up knocked
for 6 fucking grams of pot
it wasn’t even good pot
that after two hits you doing back flips
I was chilling on 175th and Saint Nick
to smoke and distribute a few nicks
to get some pussy from this chick
5’0, po po, rolls up mad quick
now they got my 6 grams and my mini van
God damn
for 6 grams I get slammed
and put in that damn police van
could understand if it was 6 grams of white sand
8th of a kilo of white snow
but still downtown I go
when you live life on the street you got to hustle
I felt real bad that I got nabbed
Checked all my pockets while I sat
In the back I was glad I did not bring my gat
At the station they took my roll of cash
Along with the 6 gram stash
I wonder when I will be free at last
My fingerprints revealed my past
Now I am finger printed
And headed to do a stint
Hands behind back head bent
For my intent to disturb these nicks
Now I am in it thick
Case sent to the district
While I sit
Maybe I should sell tobacco
Because it’s legal
I think to myself in California and other countries its legal
took 6 grams of pot but not my tobacco
guess its ok long as the government gets its cut
my question is what the fuck
tobacco kills
but it’s still legal
marijuana helps people
and is medical
Those who make laws stand above them and decide what’s best for us citizens

Hungry For Love

I love to cover you with kisses
like rain clouds cover a threatening sky
I want to blanket you with affection
so you can know the warmth of my love
I would adorn you with gentle touches
and drape your body with a silent tongue
I still love you though many days have passed
with each inhale and exhale your essence dances in my minds eye
your soul gets me high like too much oxygen
the way you love me makes my soul spin
since the first time I saw you
heard your voice
you crept into my consciousness
and captured my thoughts
your love is like rushing water, like sweet honey pouring in a water fall
and home made pie you love to eat on Saturdays and holidays

DubbleX Gcast Player

Subscribe Free
Add to my Page

Vacate the premises

I am your verbal nemesis
I am the one with the Dubble X’s
I ride in a Prius fuck the gas guzzling Lexus
Vacate the premises
pulling rhymes out my mouth like a tooth pulling dentist
I’m just relentless
am a professional
only pros attempt this
my poetical paragraph so strong
you cant indent this
so vacate the premises
My landlord is my nemesis
They want to evict me quickly
Cause I write graffiti
On the apartment walls I see
But I refuse whole heartily
To vacate the premises

Tribute to John Coltraine

Be-bop
Rip rocken
Sure shocken
Be boppen
Get things poppen
Drown in the avalanche of sound
Smooth riffs of saxophones
Drum and bass a cacophony of tones
Jazzy melodies and 20-minute solos
In the flow it goes
Listen to him blow up and down the scale
Climbing to the top the cat sure can wail
He's a musical genius, tremendous
The bass and sax make you tingle and relax
He's a legend of jazz
Pushing it to out of breath
His breath control circular breathing
Look close, you can see his chest heaving
Covering the night club with a musical flood
Sound so bold and bright playing deep into the night
Fingers quick in a split kicking off licks
He makes it look so easy and sound so ready
Accompanied by a throbbing bass and drumming pace
Like busting through darkness
His sound drips then gushes
He lived that lush life high as a kite, drinks or smack he could play that sax
Expressing emotions and feeling his be bop beat no one else could compete so unique and complete be free style or off the sheet
he captured the vibe of city streets
Back in the day that man could play
Fast or slow sweet and mellow
He played like the sound of a sunrise
He played like the sound of the dawn
Quiet like whispers of nightfall
The beat of heavy rainfall, deep in the jungle call
Notes squealing and squeaking like his instrument was speaking kept peaking the next level seeking
Made you feel something playing music sounding like running so stunning backed by drumming bass fingers strumming
He uncovered explored and opened sounds to his sax roar
want more want more
how that melody did soar in score after score
The cymbal and the high hat the toe tap
Plays filling the empty spaces a colorful oasis with rhythm chases
guides our ears through a maze of amazing solos the way you blow
Like no other like no other
Saxophone smothered
There you go again blowing like a northeasterly wind
So free so easy so easy so free
Holding those high notes making music float playing in the haze of your dope
Your music stands the test of time
It is everlasting forceful blasting
I like to listen to you in my different mind states help me escape
I want to ride that Blue Train
With My Favorite things
Making that soprano sax sing
Want to make my Ascension with Giant Steps
To the Afro Blue Impression
To Meditations
Got to hear that Love Supreme
From the Blue Note to The Village Vanguard
You were kicking it heavy and hard
Getting down with Monk and Miles
That free jazz invented your own style

GLOBAL WARNING VERSUS SURVIVAL INSTINCTS

We forget that this world is naked
we attempt to clothe her with our futility
we dress her up with structures
get her drunk on chemicals - get her high with pollution
then wonder why she is now ill
we question where has the water gone; it used to rain and snow here and there
we seem dumbfounded that certain plants no longer grow
and countless animals have disappeared
the world is still naked but we dress her up in heels
as we dig our oil wells spikes to her core strip mine her land
we alter her with breast implants of nuclear plants
we dye her sky hair with colors of radiation
and we wonder why she is balding; the hole in the ozone layer grows
we take her out dancing - use her for are personal pleasure
then wonder why she is suffering with a fever that is steadily warming
we try to shape her and drape her with our form of beauty
then complain our cities
We feed her our trash and then wonder why things are now out of balance
We care for her not and are surprised how quickly she is now aging
the only problem is we forget that she is carrying us daily in her arms

Dubble X wrote the above verse; his partner, JL, wrote the second verse

Dubble X and I combine our verse to praise our mother earth
I want to power the Mohave desert with miles and miles
Of solar panels – enough to run the entire planet
Power the world on solar energy
I want to do this because I love mother earth,
Worship her in her design, she is my creator
The creator of the generations of humans and time
Creator of our earth she bestows grace, productivity proclivity and life
I want to power the Mohave desert with miles and miles of solar panels
So the earth will survive
So my children’s children and yours
Will inherit the earth, so they
Will have a planet on which to reside
A planet that supports life
Because as it stands now
Mother Earth will survive while humanity will die out
The ice age is coming…
Mother Earth will survive …
She will begin the cycle all over again
Will have a planet on which to survive

Please check out Don Coorough'sblog post, On the Organizatioon of an Enlightened and Ecologically Sound Community

So a black man is president

We hold these truth's to be self-evident
When they wrote the constitution a black man could make no contribution
After the Emancipation Proclamation
We were still the problem and not the solution
Legally declared 3/5ths of a man
only good for a slave hand
There were only whites in the white house
now a black man his kids and his spouse
I wonder what Jefferson Washington and Lincoln would think
Would they toast him with a drink or think the country will sink
We’re already on the brink of another great depression
Our recession is now in session
from segregation to Brown Vs. the Board of Education
Mr. Obama will you help me to get my reparations from this nation
My 40 acres and a mule or am I just a naïve fool
Because this country is still cruel
We've come a long way from slave ship days
From cotton picking plantation ways
From strange fruit hanging high above tree roots
From Jim Crow laws to masters whipping slaves backs bloody raw
The atrocities this country claims it never saw
slaves to servants to president
But aren’t you half white and all of us blacks are any color but black - different shades brown from all the raping and mixing gone around
come a long way since lynching in 1868 back in slave and free states
Still suffer from hate crimes in 2009
From bus boycotts to riots in Watts
To Medgar Evers and Malcolm getting shot
Now we all looking up to you standing on the top spot
The Japanese during World War II got their dues so did some Jews
So I just wonder if it could be true that you could come through
For all my ancestors in 400 years of oppression deservers some type of compensation
I know you will be busy trying to clean up 8 years of republican misery
Try to mend our relations with other nations getting our soldiers out of Iraq
Bringing our boys back
The banking crisis and the economy giving Iraq its true autonomy
your family comes from Kenya you bring us hope of a Kennedy
This once in a lifetime opportunity
hoping this country and congress you can bring to unity
From fighting for civil rights to KKK burning cross and throwing bombs at night.
From Dr. King let freedom ring
To Rodney King 1992 Cali riot swings all these things
Nat Turner leading slaves to rebel
David Walker encouraged those enslaved to break from their cell
John Brown and Fredrick Douglas the abolitionist
To black power raising Olympic fist John Carlos and Tommie Smith
Black panthers Angela Davis and Huey Newton patrolling with a shotgun
To run Jesse run
To the underground-railroad with Harriet Tubmon
This is where we come from
Never succumb to oppression fighting for freedom
We will not panic or get frantic
You Mr. President will fix up this country like a political mechanic
Yes you did I never thought I would live
Long enough to see a black man in the white house crib but there it is
Everybody got to do what he says cause for the next four years he's the pres-ident, it's no accident some meant to lament and resent but this is your moment
Been waiting since the thirteenth Amendment
Singing we shall over come from marching in Selma Alabama now we got Barrack Obama
From protest and picket lines to jail cells and welfare lines now it's our time to shine
From niggers to negros
Dreadlocks and Afros
Look how we grow
From African American to American
Yes we can yes we can

It's another rush hour

Millions of sleepy New Yorkers venture to the street
The pushing and shoving
Packed in trapped crowds stout and lean bodies fight for space in dirty abject mass transit squalor
They wrestle for a few dingy hard seats
Trying not to be late one eye stays on the watch
Herded and prodded with bags books and briefcases
Excuse me and pardon me are words repeated tenfold
Human density is reached
Angry bodies block all exit ways
Nobody talks nobody smiles it's a solemn ride
A beggar depressing pitch breaks the silence
Right before your time to switch
Highway congestion as car volume turns the highway to the speed of a rowboat
Road rage hangs in the air like pollution
Horns blare as nobody gets anywhere
Gridlock is threatens on every other city block
You got to beat the clock
Your boss enters your mine
Trying not to be late yet another time
Toes get crushed by heels and tread on by over priced sneakers
Every stop more and more people manage to fight their way on
Few leave we struggle for every inch
Total strangers touch and get closer than lovers
Someone’s bag is in my back
Someone’s stank ass is on my leg
We roll slowly to the downtown destination station by station

Take this job and shove it!

Try to get this paper
So we get caught up in the rat race trying to pace
Trying to save face
At the job place
This green paper we got to chase
Collecting dead presidents for our time
Without money this society is impossible to calculate
I want to to get a counterfeit machine and print tons of that green

Inside The Rhythm By DubbleX

INSIDE THE RHYTHM

In the drum rhythm
I hear the echoes of ancient ancestors
Deep in the Congo
beats become airborne like musical pollen transmitting sound waves
tribal festive rhythms crescendos crashing beach waves
covered in funky syncopated shades
stretching along lines
back to the birth of sunshine
as dancers gyrate to salsa calypso faith
deep in the heart and heat of the steel beat
lies a reservoir of history and culture
the rhythm calling the dehydrated to hydrate from its aquatic pools
music gushes like water from a hydrant
flashing djembe taunt string hands
curved and chiseled from wooden limbs
giving life to the musical spin
all those in ear shot hear the roots of be bop, hip hop and rock
falling from tropical sun drenched landscapes
is where this earth rhythm originates
I wish to dig my soul to the depths of dense hollow beats
to flame flickering wind swept rhythms
That link Homo habilis to Homosapien to all mankind
music that moves the deaf to the blind
feel the vibration reverberate through tribal nations
call all to this powerful pop wow
where middle eastern indigenous rhythms meet African Cuban Indian in a drum circle at fevered pitch
spirit dancing unifying the masses in peace with this musical feast
Drums sounds rise like thick black smoke
giving all listeners hope music is my dope
These drums beat for passion
these drums beat for fire
these drums beat and reek with the essence of life
they express words yet to be formed
feelings of love loss and mourn
these drumming rhythms transcend all language and twists of tongue
I hear the beats rain down on me, penetrating my soul
let these beats be played
let them be played loud and furious
bust like caps to make hands clap
to make bodies move
let us be lost and found in its groove
funky ass beats linger like memories
I cling to the rhythm
cling to the rhythm
that catches me in its net of stretched animal skinned beats
pounded out as each drummer drums his drum as one
to the death
music is our life breath our two step
let music up hold my rep
as time is kept
the drum beat that moves feet
from the crypt walk to drum talk
hard calloused hands
ricochets rushing rhythms entangled in booming bass
a drum circle let the beat keep pace
rhythms etched and fill empty space
ecstasy shows on the face
as the sweetest rhythm painful memories get erased

ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER DOLLAR part II

I’m tired of all the shit I holler
Clocking in and clocking out
everybody checking to see what I'm about
I can't afford a money drought – my apartment - I’d be kicked out
these kids so out of control ~ I got to find a way to stay on the payroll
Gotta grab hold or I’ll land in the poverty hole
So it's another day another dollar another bus ride another crowded train ride another day I wish to die a painless suicide
we got these 9 to 5's to survive but they deprive and kill the creative forces inside
paying me to work for my time which is running low don't know the final total when it's my time to go- the work day goes slow - feel like I want to explode -
I don't fit the mold
got to work till I'm old they crush my soul with their control daily
I try not to fold
try to keep hold
Kids talk back I stand in the room and stare till the room turns black so slow to react students act up they won't stay shut in my mind
I wish to brandish a gun at these young kin. They get under my skin, begin talking with wide grins, they don’t want this education
Forced into the classroom unable to absorb this situation
I wish to work for another company or organization but a desk job is just as hard
With no real vacations forced to do till the day is through
Another day another dollar my pay check is not enough to cover my debts and bills financially climbing hills con-ed sprint rent child support still in court with my ex about money flow, she wants alimony not just child support, no way to abort, my money comes up short
Money comes and goes like the wind blows runs through my hands like fine sand Everyday I try not to get canned but I would not mind getting fired or early retired Everyday I’m so tired drinking two cups of coffee one Starbucks they both suck
Can hardly stay awake
Napping on my break not more of this I can take
See I got a disability so it makes shit harder for me
Some doctors want to give me lithium or lock me in an insane asylum, not sure about outcome, trying to control my dis-ease
I just continue to do what I can do daily my heart skips a work beat

Another Day Another Dollar

I can’t take this shit
I holler feel like I got a fucking noose around my neck
working for this pay check the whole place I’d like to wreck
they treat me with mad disrespect
my lawyer tells me I can’t quit but I say it again
so tired of this shit the wake up at 5:30 AM
every day I do it again
more things to do then I can keep up with
gotta pay child support in a never ending divorce
going on 3 years now when will it end
working to get that money that moolah
that paper that cheddar whatever it takes
I work until my mind breaks till my feet ache
Everybody waiting for me to make a big mistake
I need a break for heaven sake
I need a break not much more of this shit can I take

Free Style Spitting Rant

Addicted to rap like a stockbroker making bank
On the NASDAQ when I hear a fat track it’s like heroin
To a junky getting finished on smack shine
The spot light on the stuff I write
It’s as hot as a laser shocks like a taser rips
like a razor sees the flames rise cause this ones a blazer
hot like a microwave examined with x-rays
sit back and wonder while I amaze my tail
still unravels like rims over gravel
this case is not closed till the bank of the gravel
I blast off my rhymes from Cape Canaveral in the Space Shuttle
me and the microphone huddle
the other mics left without rebuttal
go home with their girls and just cuddle
because when I be kicking verses nothing is subtle
My ammunition is my vocabulary
By all means necessary
It’s a metaphoric snow flurry
If music were food this would be Nutriment
Even anorexics don’t regurgitate what I create
bulimic beats give rail girls weight
Too many kids on Ritalin
It’s belittling - turning pre-teens into pharmaceutical drug fiends
you got a hammer
I got a nuclear warhead
set that sucker off and we’ll all be dead
so go ahead and shoot
It’s self-destruction
black on black crime
a government production penitentiary and cemeteries
too many young brothers names filling up obituaries
you can hear me but you don’t understand me
It’s genocide a slow homicide this epidemic is systemic
While government controls our consciousness
Let’s condemn government
all our forefathers were killers and robbers
too bad the Indians couldn’t finish off the pilgrims
it’s our chagrin
I am not commercial I’m controversial

COMMOTION IN APT. 16B

He beats his wife thinks he owns her life
She is bruised and battered like it does not matter
their marriage nearly shattered
her skin turns colors and shades of purple and blueish
her wish that he would not be so pissed she feels dissed
he spends his time chatting on facebook meeting women
taking a long look he goes on dates takes the bait
this she hates he wants to be a player playing the field
his mother tells him be for be for real
you should yield your wife can't deal
She clutches the baby and hopes maybe he won't go astray
she wants him to leave and at the same time stay
He kicks her out half dressed she can't take the stress
folks wonder why she settles for less
he is the first and only man to press her flesh
she knows no other
some think she should return to her mother
or find another lover as on her body bruises are discovered will she recover
They argue and fight deep into the night
Some wonder how long they will last
the question has to be asked because of their rocky past
She screams and cries and wonders why her guy has a wandering eye
there is no reply so she sighs and says she loves him and will stay with him until she dies
No baby should see his mama get beaten and mistreated and many times repeated
pretty soon the cops get called as she is once again slammed into the wall
locked out in the hall she cries and bawls can't take it all
But she tells everyone that she loves him
can love grow dim or thin with too many blows to the chin
only time will tell if it breaks the love spell

Poverty From The Inside Out

Scrambling trying to get crumbs from bums
Hopping the turnstile with style
Begging for bread on 57th street in a snow storm
trying in vain to stay warm
been on the streets for too long things go wrong
Daily scramble and gamble trying to get by trying to stay high
jobs are lost money spent is too quickly can't pay the rent
Working two low paying jobs feet hurt from standing all day at work
Credit card debit mortgage a hill of unpaid bills sit still
Scrambling pan handling no savings money craving
selling your goods in the hood on the Internet
to see how much you can get getting desperate
the cash you want to fetch
trying to come up with a theme to redeem
your get rich schemes are suspect
living from pay check to pay check feeling like a reject
playing lotto a dollar and a dream learning life is mean
living off of baked chicken and burnt rice and beans
the new year brings more fears no cause to cheer
but thankful you’re still here still hating career
know the end is near no friends or peers
Saving your many pennies look upon the wealthy with envy
Decades upon decades of scrambling get worn thin
poverty erases grin digging in trash bin feeling like a has been
Unemployment welfare finding out your family does not care
it's all too much to bear feeling lonely caught in despair
Holes in your much used shoes getting tired of singing the blues just want to get drunk and hit the booze life is a mix of choices we choose
So much scrambling and rambling
Street hustles and sore muscles corner scuffles
Coming up short banks suing and taking me to court
Trying to scout a way out
Seems like there is no way staggering through another day
Collecting the minimum wage working way past the retirement age
Money running low not that far it goes tired of wearing the same worn out clothes need a new strategy sinking with the economy always one step from a tragedy

A Weed Man’s Common Street Scam

I bring my scale to the street
So I don’t get beat
By gram scam cheats
Give me my OZ weight
I know how to count to 28
Don’t double zip lock my bud
Because I don’t get a buzz off plastic
I bring my scale right out on Dyckman Street
And watch it balance its self like slowly shuffling meringue feet
I don’t play that unwrap that weed and lay it flat
I don’t want no 26 or 25!
If I am spending 400 I am paying for every gram to get high
Now look me in the eye
The scale don’t lie
I see what you’re trying to try
With other cats you may get by
But I am Chill Will and with me that shit don’t fly!

More than enough

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 that I forget
My pursuits and quest take me on a mental voyage through intellectual seas
I envision a future of a better me
The next moment will bring about a vast improvement to my empathy
The cry of humanity crushed under the weight of one trillion dollars they holler
Could you not have spared a few dollars for clean water for my baby?
Could they have not have used a few euros so I could have some clean clothes?
Nobody knows the depth of a man’s despair when he is entrapped in enslavement
Mentally, physically, spiritually,
As 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 penniless
His fortune overcome by his missteps
Many of us walk this planet with unhealed bleeding memories on our souls
They need a healing of their injuries or a complete recovery?
To return to a whole state of being
You were made in a unique perfection selected for prominence
No matter your name
No matter your color
No matter your country
You were made for brilliance,
See your destiny and shine

Fresh Out of Hate

No hugs
No kisses
No handshakes
I’ve got no love for you
No hellos
No goodbyes
No good mornings
No replies
No looks in the I
I got no kind of love for you
I got no love
No hate
To me you no longer exist
You died yesterday
I annihilate

on lockdown

As he sits locked away in his personalized cage
set to prison decay and die away
he grows to hate time he has not a watch
he tries in vain to forget all the doors are locked
morning reminds him and finds him
as his crime now defines him to confinement in prison
unthought of decision lead to a unanimously guilty conviction
his once young life ages violently
And at the same time grows lonely
He wants the darkness to make him disappear
Too depressed to shed a tear serving 80 consecutive years
he pushes its reality out of his mind
and tries to focus on hours and days
his future is a life long correctional maze
because of one days’ bloody rampage
that was on the front page time goes by
he almost forgets why the sun he seldom sees
remembers two bodies lay face down lifeless in the street
He misses the world and the summer heat
he did a dastardly feat
the rap he could not beat
falling in line with the daily routine
turns humans into machines
everyday he thinks of his freedom
that he knows will never come
he gradually succumbs to the daily boredom
of his incarceration

Bits & Pieces

News flash news flash
We are on a planet in deep deep outer space
We are right now spinning and turning
What holds and pushes us is gravity

The more you love the more of yourself you lose
we too quickly forget that our stay here is short
only when our life is ending do we understand how we should have lived it
live life as a dead man who has returned from the grave
Life is too short to spend it with someone who makes you suffer


DubbleX (What Did I Say?)

Some poems are not to be written
Some poems are not meant to be recalled
Some poems are made to be forgotten
Some poems are written to be lost
Some poems are not made to get attention
Some poems are made not to be heard
The best poems are made without words

Plywood Poem
My words and lines mix with wood designs the two combined plywood and rhymes this wood use to be part of a tree that grew steady until the lumber jack was ready to cut it with an electric machete

Life is like a cold slice of pizza it still tastes good the next day

Life is like a cold slice of pizza what you cant finish today you finish tomorrow

Is It Love Or Is It Hate

Observing night club revelers
Lust hangs in the air like smoke
Tits wiggle and jiggle to natures natural rhythms
Asses shake to beat breaks night marauders appreciate
Out on the dance floor don't hesitate
Let the sex smell germinate as people look to hook up with a mate to date
Some find love others find hate
People mix and mingle mostly single
Loud music overwhelms conversation
Fights break out with altercation
Drinks get mixed and pounded to the state of intoxication it's a common situation
Drugs are smoked and sniffed to get that lift
Heads spin while the dj spins the later it gets the crowd gets thin
But before that the dance floor gets packed
The sexes interact
The lights get dim people line up to get in
Drinking juice and gin to enhance the tipsy grin
A night that starts out with a loud crowd ends in lonely despair or a sudden affair

SOCIAL CHANGES

When gentrification comes
The crack houses become condos
The burnt out buildings now are renovated
with sliding glass windows
and of course the poor have to go
3 families get packed into a studio
when that city wind blows
Gentrification in
bodegas gets replaced by pricey café’s
loud weekend parties get moved away
the color of pedestrians changes
like traffic lights from black and Latino to white
Gentrification strikes leaves minorities
homeless with court eviction fights
when rents go up to sky heights
Slenderized joggers replace baby carriage
pushing mama’s baseball caps and baggy jeans
get replaced by suits and ties and reconstruction teams
The hood gets changed like a radio station
The poor move to a shelter location
Everyone thinks this is progress as
These Harlem slums are slowly repossessed
By wealthy interests and of course
The neighborhood name must be changed
Central Park North is no longer the same
As venture capitalists entrench their chains
Only the poor complain
Gentrification is a steam rolling train.

Manhattan Forest or Zoo...

I walk through the enchanted forest of tall office trees
with small bushes of brown stones
fresh concrete grows daily
and smothers all life underneath it
it grows square and gray and rigid alongside steel trees
wild criminal animals roam and attack until caged in the local zoo
keep the animals locked in the city zoo
they lock up us humans too
my cell block is Manhattan
every where I go shit happens
my job is my prison
they keep me locked in institutions
giving me their solutions
they tell me this is the home of the free
but people around me report everything they see
because I live as I believe that I am free to be me
so institutions looks at me funny
as a matter of fuck this job they can keep their money

A beautiful mist of pollution hangs over Manhattan’s chemical rain forest
Mercurys SUVs Fords Toyotas and Mitsubishi all add to it
Cry out in horn chirps and other species
vehicles for emergencies screaming sirens
EMS FDNY and NYPD
Race over tar covered postmodern dirt roads
Saving us from fire and death is their goal
This city terrain is slighted and a jagged edge covers the horizon
Our streets covered in human daytime congestion
The forgotten get swallowed with gassy ingestion
Few stop and colorful lights to question
This city life is an unseen obsession

Time is up

I have done my time

I have served you faithfully for a decade that stretched 15 years

my tears that I have cried over you I now use to clean your scent from my soul

I have taken pounds of your ponderous abuse
been forced to swallow your flaming words

I have held your hand and pulled you upright

I have protected you from fiery arrows of angry x lovers

have suffered countless needless tongue lashings and reconstructed myself from the glob of sorrow you left swirling on the floor

I vowed to re-mold myself
not with dough or clay but steel and brick

I prayed to gods of many religions to see if any would listen
to resurrect me from what seemed my sealed fate

yet my soul can't stand no more of the torture of your treatment

I step forward from my emotional prison and find myself the target of judgment and long nosed glances

what have I done but desire to finish my life in the company of peace and joy

what law has come down from above that says I must continue in a life that crushes my passions

I have imprisoned myself willfully and willfully I now turn the key
I make a mad dash for the gates with my eyes wide

to remain with the one who has forgotten my needs that pulse daily with hot desire is like being a black eclipsed sun living in denied insanity

my dreams still dance in front of my eyes

with a final grasp you offer me to stay confined to your insensitivity
and I respond smilingly happy divorce

chief running words

TOO MUCH PAIN

To put it to you plain
I feel so insane
So much pain
From my brain
Hot tears run down my brown face
I get surrounded by sadness
And drowned in misery
To me it’s a mystery
Where all the pain comes from
It bubbles up inside of me
Causing me great agony
I wonder how to be free of tragedy
Thoughts of suicide run through my head
But deep down I know I won’t be better off dead
If I could just get around the pain and the tear stains
I want to remain but I need a change
I wonder if I can continue in this vein
Every day seems such a strain
Daily now depression grips me in an angry fist
I try to twist and persist I resist
I need to see a therapist to assist
My days disappear in too many tears
Too many fears
Too many hard years

The People’s Republic of America

The dictator knows who I call and who calls me
The dictator knows where I go and who I see
The dictator knows the sites I surf the emails I send
The text messages I receive
They know all my bank accounts and social security numbers and fake ID’s
They know my race age and sexual orientation
they know my tribal nation
Political affiliation and activist organization
I have been filmed and photographed too numerous of times to mentioned
filed and data based placed
I have been tracked by satellites
Followed with the GPS OnStar hooked to my car
The dictator censors the news so I only hear the untrues
Their propaganda campaign distorts perceptions
Protection from terrorist
Protect me from dictatorships
As my civil liberties have been stripped
Innocent citizens detained tortured and whipped
Illegal wars to over throw and take more
The Geneva Convention is something that’s not mentioned
Extraordinary Rendition covert political CIA missions
My fellow Americans your democracy has been hijacked
Not by terrorist
But the Patriot Act
Read the facts
No search warrants
Unlimited wirer taps
cast your vote note write it in quotes
they change the name
political scapegoats
promote their result
the so called cleansing of the voting roles
Blacks are bounced falsely accused criminals on parole
Government officials on company payrolls
The dictator commits crimes without consequence trails or sentence
Hiding behind the lines of its classified access denied no further reply
As another war looms and more innocent die.
They put a microchip in my finger tip
Tattooed a serial number on the back of my neck
They want me to believe land of the free home of the brave
Didn’t they kill millions of Native Americans and made my ancestors slaves

Romeo & Juliet

You are my Juliet
I am your brown skinned Romeo
Love is love, not traditional
She loves me because I am her mixed shot of Basquiat
Meets Gil Scott
I am her Red Dread
Our love is original
It rocks the Richter scale
To the highest decibel shaking society
I love her because she’s my sun
If one day the moon rose instead of the sun
That is how a day without her would feel
Social norms - our love is ancient and soulful
Every day with her is a red wine toast

slowing down film speed to go with time

playing melodica at a recent feature at nightengales in nyc

This instrument is used mostly as back-up for reggae music. I've been playing for 20 years and Joy claims I'm as good as Augustus Pablo who was one of the best melodica players ever.

HIDE AND SEEK!

Things get lost in my one bedroom apartment
I think somewhere there must be a hole
I have lost my toothbrush and flash drive
I stroll around the house and wonder where they went
My apartment is not big mind you about 650 square feet
a place to eat, a place to sleep, a place to peep and a place to leak
so it is quite the strangest thing when things just disappear
until I suddenly realize there must be a hole some where
How else can it be explained that in such a small place
so many things can remain unclaimed
To put it plain it’s a hide and seek game
that is slowly driving me and my lover insane
why just today all the lighters were gone
This includes two long black and red kitchen lighters
A light green and a dark green bic lighters
A Philips screwdriver, two nail clippers my lovers left
blue check two cartons of sidewalk chalk Bob Marley talking CD
A million times one of the three remotes to plasma TV
has gone missing, still can’t find my flash drive
and my ipod disappears for weeks
my pens and pencils at least a squad and
Now a large sharp kitchen knife is gone for two weeks
Make me wonder if my lover wished to be my legal wife
or take my life in a fit of strife
Two weeks later the knife reentered the apartment in the refrigerator
In a salad in the vegetable compartment
my protein-shaking cup is gone plus twenty bucks
Joy’s make up disappears and a piece to my melodica is gone
With a Marijuana oz of exotica
Lately this game has gone deeply strange
My toothbrush appeared on the sofa
in uncooked turkey meat I was about to eat
I had to look all over then the usual piece of paper with a phone number
I have given in to this losing thing roll
And have stepped up my search for the hole

PETER THE HUNGARIAN PEDDLER THE BIKE MESSENGER SONNET

The bike ride I almost died
I almost died
the truck collide
came weaving by
every day I almost die
from 9 to 5
and they wonder why I drink after I ride
biking every day is my secret suicide

TWO MINDS, ONE HEART by Joy & DubbleX

I don’t have my own mind I said
Whaddaya’ mean he asked
You inhabit my mind I said
That’s a really good line he said

You inhabit my mind
All the time Joy thought up this line
Joy thought up this line so I typed it in
This computer of mine

It’s not just a line I said
You inhabit the deeper regions inside my head
How do you say that word, hypothalamus
I’ll look it up in the dictionary

My thoughts of you are extraordinary
Because you’re extra-more than ordinary
I want to lick you like a strawberry
A love like this longs for poetry

Our love breaks the laws of humanity
Humility and sanity creating a whole
New meaning for the word boundaries
As we dance through our life in poetry

Your life is my idea I say
I show him my tits in play & say
This is performance poetry at its best
I’m here at your behest
This is only the beginning test
Our lives have become an unfinished poem
Put your worries to rest he replies
We’re here today as mother earth’s guests

DON'T GO THERE ...

Don’t be that poet who takes too long
Who goes on and on
That poet we don’t get
that poet that as soon as you finish we forget
Don’t be that poet who sounds like every other poet
or that poet who sounds good and theatrical but who’s words are too dull
Don’t be that poet who hides behind their poem
Or that poet who just talks about sex just to talk about sex
And please don’t be that poet who writes poetry about sex but never has sex
Or worse yet that poet who is not a poet who writes & reads his poems about sex
to try to get other poets to have sex with him
Don’t be that drunken poet or too high poet who stands on the stage and laughs and can’t remember the poem or read it
Don’t be an undercover rasicist nazi poet and use the stage as your soap box mic stop to push infantile political platforms cause that poet will get punched
Don’t be that poet who I can’t hear or that poet who talks so fast it's unclear
Don’t be that poet who tells me about your poem before you read me your poem
And most importantly don’t be that poet who listens to me
Be the poet you want to be and write poetry you want to write and read
The worst poet to be is the poet we never see

Inside The Flow

my flow is fluid
like there's nothing to it
I just do it
I flow like rapids
automatic
it’s just my habit
rhymes multiply like rabbits
my flow is lavish it is just
ridiculous
an avalanche of words I bust
that hit you
you'll think something bit you
my words attack you
leave your eardrums bruised
my flow goes on cue
drowning in the rhymes I spew
my flow spirals in circles
it’s a verbal miracle
when you hear it go
my flow steams
like hot springs
and bubbles and pops
pours like waterfalls
My flow is wide as it’s tall
my fluidity is atomic
as dangerous as suicidal
fundamentalist Islamic
my flow is as beautiful as Adonis
it’s compelling
like Joe Lewis beating up Max Schemling
if words were stocks this one would be selling
so buy it and try it
my flow over flows the levee
cause it runs high and heavy
hit you with liquid rush bevy
it’s quicker then sliver flashes like sirens lights
leaves you desiring more than a cure
I evaporate like water then make my flow down pour

Slowing down time to go with the flow

A LIST POEM

A to do list is not a poem she said
This is my reply

To Do List:

1. Make Love
2. Kiss
3. Cuddle
4. Snuggle
5. Talk
6. Explore
7. Repeat All

FUCK THE SLAM

Everybody wants to part of the slam
As for me I don’t give a damn
I am who I am
Fuck the slam
And political poetry cronies
And the fake ass phonies
People packed in to stand on the stage
and spit their memorized page
To votes and number gage
It’s all just a fashion craze
The art of poetry is not a sport
That’s what I was taught
If I wanted to perform for points
I would have been a gymnast and studied acrobatics
My pros and rhymes are I, not to be judged politically
How can one poem be better than another it all depends on what you feel?
What gets touched and uncovered and revealed
Numbers serve to disrespect each other and to be called a champion because you win
Slammers stand and clamor for the glamour
Thinking they are champions and me an amateur
How do you get those high votes as you speed through poems?
So fast your words get choked?
Lost in the hoopla the words are no longer the star
It’s a sideshow poetic rodeo that’s why people go
Gasping for air battling toe to toe
Just give me zeros cause for me
Votes are not needed to boost my ego
As scores range from high to low me winning a show
would be a miracle cause I yell and go slow
I got my own flow

NEW YORK CITY INMATES

In the city millions of people are
hidden by the tallness of buildings
Covered and buried alive beneath the ground
Millions of people unseen behind walls
Sealed in apartment windows are covered
And stares and look glances at shades blinds and curtains
reveal no form no sign of life
All except the window light unseen in the daytime city
Dwellers assume no one is home
Elevated trains pour past my window
The thousands of people insides seem invisible
In the distance cars and trucks shoot past
From zero to sixty
Their drivers not seen appear ghostly
Millions of people invisible set high in the skyline
Dark windows render me blind
I hate this city because of the lie
Told me there are 8 million people
Everywhere I go I never see more than 25

Special Forces At work

This is a new way to play when I'm totally exhausted. Seven year old energetic boys will make anyone exhausted, but it's especially hard for me with the weekend schedule. The weekend comes & I'm worn out & frazzled. I just want to zone out with a ball game & have a nice glass of red wine with some good home cooked food.

This is how I amuse myself instead.

To see the video of our game click the title above!

DubbleX hits a balance ~ Dig it!

Joy calls it the boogie board cause she says I boogie on this board. Really it's just called a balance board. I dig it that she makes up her own words for a lot of things. Is that a thing that only poets do?

Can you see me...

i turn around and show you my back
so that
you can not see
can not really see me
and can maybe see me
what you see before you is easy
a man
a human being
a person
this is what you see
and you see it more when you see my face and my eyes
you see what is before you
but you forgot
as long as i see you
i can not see myself
see what you see
cause to me
i am a soul
a vision of light and energy
that is connected to everything i see and don't see
when you see me
you cannot see
the tornadoes of words that twirl in my mind endlessly
the thoughts that would sit me in the company of Plato and Nizche
when you see me
you can not tell that i can see the future and know what lies beyond the stars
when you see my face you see me a man
but truly what you cant c is that i am a soul strolling through eternity

My Son Samoa & Me Getting Ready for Halloween

My son asked me what do you like about the earth
I told him I like the sunrise and the cold raindrops
I like the rough smooth rocks
He said I like the sunshine in my eyes
to see everything and the beautiful trees
I say I like grass and the smell of burning incense
flowing in my nostrils
I like the feeling of smushed earth dirt
between my brown bear colorful painted toes
He said I like the feeling of the floor under my feet

A Starving Artist Striving

Starving artist
With a pen piercing his wrist
The pain of the sacrifices
He has made to this life as an artist
Poet or poetess
He’s starving to exist
Everybody knows most features at shows
Are not the best artists but the ones the host & or hostess know best
Those getting paid the large paper dollars aren’t the best artists either
We are forgotten in the world’s focus of who is the best artist
The real artist is poor and hopeless
Only lives for his creative bliss
So insane and ahead of his time the world assumed he was out of his mind
He would straight up panhandle and sleep on subways and streets
He lives off of words and left over break beats
He’s lonely and too strange to converse with
His fashion can be questionable while
his family is surprised he lacks the proper paper cash obsession
Call him a failure cause his mind is filled with words and music instead of dollar signs
The starving artist invents the mainstream
Then is killed before he can get credit
Cash is used only for housing body fuels and artistic tools
His art is not a labor - it’s really all he can do
He lacks skills and abilities to cope in society
The world understands physical ails but rarely pays attention to mental disabilities
Or other kinds of abnormalities
Our society is based on norms and similarities
The starving artist in most of us is killed very early
By mind control of commercial TV that teaches its citizens to think similarly
those who don’t watch are immediately deemed crazy & looked at suspiciously
The starving artist doesn’t watch TV
Mainly to keep his mind free
The starving artist lives off ingesting creativity
The starving artist survives through his ability to create

Inside The Rhythm

In the drum rhythm
I hear the echoes of ancient ancestors
Deep in the Congo
beats become airborne like musical pollen transmitting sound waves
tribal festive rhythms crescendos crashing beach waves
covered in funky syncopated shades
stretching along lines
back to the birth of sunshine
as dancers gyrate to salsa calypso faith
deep in the heart and heat of the steel beat
lies a reservoir of history and culture
the rhythm calling the dehydrated to hydrate from its aquatic pools
music gushes like water from a hydrant
flashing djembe taunt string hands
curved and chiseled from wooden limbs
giving life to the musical spin
all those in ear shot hear the roots of be bop, hip hop and rock
falling from tropical sun drenched landscapes
is where this earth rhythm originates
I wish to dig my soul to the depths of dense hollow beats
to flame flickering wind swept rhythms
That link Homo habilis to Homosapien to all mankind
music that moves the deaf to the blind
feel the vibration reverberate through tribal nations
call all to this powerful pop wow
where middle eastern indigenous rhythms meet African Cuban Indian in a drum circle at fevered pitch
spirit dancing unifying the masses in peace with this musical feast
Drums sounds rise like thick black smoke
giving all listeners hope music is my dope
These drums beat for passion
these drums beat for fire
these drums beat and reek with the essence of life
they express words yet to be formed
feelings of love loss and mourn
these drumming rhythms transcend all language and twists of tongue
I hear the beats rain down on me, penetrating my soul
let these beats be played
let them be played loud and furious
bust like caps to make hands clap
to make bodies move
let us be lost and found in its groove
funky ass beats linger like memories
I cling to the rhythm
cling to the rhythm
that catches me in its net of stretched animal skinned beats
pounded out as each drummer drums his drum as one
to the death
music is our life breath our two step
let music up hold my rep
as time is kept
the drum beat that moves feet
from the crypt walk to drum talk
hard calloused hands
ricochets rushing rhythms entangled in booming bass
a drum circle let the beat keep pace
rhythms etched and fill empty space
ecstasy shows on the face
as the sweetest rhythm painful memories get erased

THAT FLAIR by dubblex & Joy

Room for exploration
want to touch every part of your body
like I was running for president
your body is the nation
want all parts of you to vote
for my sexual sensation
I saw something there
beyond the clothes you wear,
that sexy glare
something there you were unaware
you possessed this flair
wanted to share this brown skin
with your fair short red hair
and matching trim
so fine and fair that short red hair
I had to get to know you better
And I can’t figure out why
Whose ticket do I have to pay
To get to know which play
Comes next in this game
It can’t always be the same
I won’t always be this tame
I can catch this moment of fame

XX

We hustle and fight to live this life

Those who give in never cash in on the win

The Joy Of Joy

If I could travel back in time I would relive all the moments
With you time and time again.
Rewind moments and events replay days and pieces of time
From laughing love making licking lyrics
To poetic prophetic nights of tears flowing fears
Waking neighbors with blasting reggae
Getting that 3 am lay
clear mornings of sizzling Haze Kush & regs mixed with oatmeal and eggs
To reading poetry on the stage
To finding that lost poem page
To GPS long lost travels
To Costco’s to pinched nipples
In pained inferno, finding & transcribing neglected journals
Long held stares
Twisting my hair
Holding bare hands on park walks
Forever talks
Unraveling humanity’s mysteries
Ending marriage histories
Reading our writings to each other
Isolating ourselves from the world like 2 drug addict lover-writers
This could be my heaven

if you should succeed in one thing you learn success is nothing and the journey to the destination is the true joy of the travel.

Daylight is covered and uncovered by darkness.

November 3rd Club

Hey peeps, just a word. Check out the latest issue of the November 3rd Club and see all the great poets including me.
People I recognize from facebook are Bill Abbott, Tony Brown, Patricia Smith plus many more fine poets.
Please go check it. I thank Joy for submitting for me. Joy's great at this admin stuff, me - I live & write. I'm an artist. Don't I have it easy with a woman like Joy?

Not really folks I teach Special Ed for a living - but anyway please please check it out.

Themes on peace, war & destruction ..........................

Peace is what stands between us and warfare.

Those seduced by war long for resolutions that never come.

Peace is charming and war is seductive.

Those who abandon peace struggle to regain its charms.

Peace becomes treasured once abandoned.

A planet covered in pollution will cause humanity's destruction.

Along with each growing city new pollutions grow.

A revolution happens one mind at a time.

When you're living on borrowed time every minute counts.

Those who watch TV watch their lives go by.

At the site of injustice let not your reaction be no action.

Those who struggle through troubles savor their triumphs.

If society controls your mind it also controls your actions.

Those whose convictions blow in the breeze get caught up in every storm

All In A Day's Work

went to rite aid
drank a big bottle of gatorade
did not pay
sat in massage chair
joy and i got lots of stares
want to get my ears pierced
piercing guy not there
ate a chicken roll
shot lots of video
guy in restaurant tried to prevent me from taking a piss
offered him a dollar to pee
got past him and peed
too much to write

The Prius Cheats Death...

I was reaching for the lotion in the glove compartment of the jet black Toyota Prius. We were at a stop light. I saw a bus behind us. The bus started to move and I realized within seconds he was going to hit us. Joy put her foot on the gas to attempt to escape but the car could not move fast enough and we got whacked right in the bumper, right back, breaking the tail light. The bus driver was mad, said "He would loose his job". He started waving his hands as Joy jumped out to talk with him. The bus stopped in the middle of the street. All of the passengers on the bus looked on, anxious and upset that their forward progress had been halted. Within about 20 minutes a lot of official people were on the scene: MTA supervisors' and NYC police officers. They all wanted to hear the story. Some took pictures and statements. The passengers from the bus were all transfered like a human herd to another bus. People took sides as to whom was at fault.
The police took my name. The MTA supervisor guy told Joy to take the car to Shea Stadium to the gypsies to knock out the dent that was made. Joy was skeptical about going on such a treasure hunt. We waited for all the reports to be made and insurance info exchanged. As I sat in the car with the doors open I felt pain in my neck, a slight whip lash I thought to myself. In hindsight we were luck not to be hurt after being struck by the ten ton city bus. We drove off to Bob Marley music glad to be off that corner.

click on photos to see true size

trip to Woodbury Commons in Joy's Prius

LOVE JUNKIES

She tells me you are my addiction
My junky affliction
You are my crack cocaine and heroin
All rolled up into one potent love blunt
Every hit I take of you keeps me coming back for another taste
I never get my fill of you
Your love keeps me high
You are my methadone, my crystal meth
Inhale deeply your potent smoky love breath
People don’t understand why I am with you
I tell them she is my opium my speed my valium
She is a drug whose potency no other seller can match
My lover is my addiction
She is a drug and rehab all in one
I want more of her and double the quantity
She is my peaceful sex addiction
I chase after her like a junky craving a fix
She is my addiction and I am hers
Together we stay on this fix
People keep trying to tell us to stop
She is exotic medical pot
I say please please listen
we are each others addiction

lonely photo

snapping the hood

Saturday

reworked old poems
wrote a new poem
thought about a new scene for book
watched The Yankees lose
saw people swimming in a pool
ate some really good pasta
my gums are starting to do better
happy about getting a new job
started reading A Good Day to Die
chatted back and forth with Joy

Free the innocent political prisoners

China out of Tibet

THE SUBWAY POEM

I start my dark decent
fleeing from sunlight
running from the moon.
I spiral downward into the gray and black abyss
I see huddled masses clad in sadness
silently awaiting a trains arrival
A huddled mass of transit worshipers
Slaves to her bone crashing steel
Sometimes she grows hungrier
and long time worshipers are fed to her bloody rails
crushing her victims daily
engulfing them with her hot dirty breath
mouth open, she eats New Yorkers,
swallows rush hour whole
alas skyward as a surfacing whale
excreting them through her many orifices
holding them captive in her darkness
hushing voices with her vociferous cries
Snapping her silver jaws at her prisoners’ backsides
Daily her faithful pay gladly for more abuse
Offering no more affection than being
smothered in each others morning stench
She waits silently hungrily
her preys’ return to jostle their senses
she runs when it pleases her and never slumbers
guiding the blind in her steeped darkness
When she chooses to sleep
her prisoners beg for mercy
Enslave and offer themselves to her once again
She receives and swallows them whole

I See While Joy Drives

City Pics

BITCH ASS NEIGHBOR

the life he hears but can not see
as he lays dying
he hears the sounds of life below
the sounds of love and dancing rhythms
cozily oozing their way through his walls
they torture him in his quiet tomb
he wishes to decay
in his quiet lonely cave
but sounds of laughter and love batter his bitterness and beseech him in his brooding
depressing him deeper into his downfall of disappearing
he’s dying every day
while I am living in 5k

about to watch the end of a movie Juno
took shit out of Joy's house
spoke to dad on the phone
mailed taxes at post office
some girl fainted at post office ambulance showed up
drank two G2's
ate coconut sherbet
bree cheese with raisin bread
carried heavy boxes of kitchen tiles
practiced poem for feature
wrote 2 and half pages of novel

today went well
got paper work done
spoke with school payroll secretary Joan
she was very pleasant & not too helpful
now sitting in AC
the power keeps going out on AC
need to make some phone calls and mail some paper work to UFT
this is not a poem but a post
planning to go shopping with Joy in a bit
Joy did my taxes, we're going to mail them
Joy finished making me my new dread hat
I added this to my blog

licking envelopes is nasty, yuck!

monday blues

today
another sunday
i see the sun in the day
i awake to morning chalice exotic weed
my brain turns irie
a day to smoke
a day to burn

i eat oatmeal mixed with walnuts and raisins
the mac gets brought back and installed anew
my lover sees the different me
we talk our daily therapy
my medication is ingested
the sunday rolls on
in moments i am deeply invested

now it's a monday
another monday
many things to do
before the moon shows through
morning tears
sincere
for mistakes of yesteryears
much to do
much to get done
before this monday is changed to tuesday by the sun

Poetry Stage

tonight my love performs
she is a feature
i used to be a teacher
tonight she will brighten up the stage
i will follow her with poetic rage
after i escape this office cage
tonight it's love junkies
set free in society

practicing guitar

filming myself

still wonder if this is me

the new me

not the old me

that I used to be

the new me 

looking back at me

in my home made videos

finger tips callous

guitar playing and practice