Monday, March 30, 2009


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

Thursday, March 26, 2009

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

Sunday, March 22, 2009

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

Thursday, March 19, 2009

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

Friday, March 13, 2009

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

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

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

Monday, March 2, 2009

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
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