- deep fried poems

Pictures of pride radiate through your sable eyes

Impressions of realism shine

Brushed on your skin

Love, Life, pain and poverty

Impressions of realism shine

Tattooed on your perception

Love, life, pain and poverty

Stones of power keep you thriving

Tattooed to your perception

Images still, on a canvas of blue

Stones of power keep you thriving

Gently view reality

Images still, on a canvas of blue

Modest while tasting the wind

Gently view reality

Unbalanced actions, stimulating minds

Modest while tasting the wind

You have seen it all

Unbalanced actions, stimulating minds

Original, solid taste of living

You have seen it all

Ran your fingers down angers backbone

Original, solid taste of living

You have kissed the sky with infinite joy

Ran your fingers down angers backbone

Fantasies wither, thoughts die

You have kissed the sky with joy

Dreams came alive touching an authentic being

Fantasies wither, thoughts die

Bruised on your skin

Dreams came alive, touching an authentic being

Pictures of pride radiate through your sable eyes.

it was tears freezing on cold pavement

like dried blood under fingernails

and the cold rage that stirs within us all

when control snaps

on the edge of a mental breakdown

creatures filled with their own virtue

god save our souls

ants marching

without mental expansion

cynical cackling characters

they do not care

the sign understanding

remember literal textbook definitions

not emotional connotations

you see the people as bad

due to apathy

but knowing

seeing

watching without interacting

silently marching with ants

like frost bitten flower petals

shredded splinters of shinning crunched metal

softly chanting melodious voices

nothing is like a melodramatic movie

the world is painted in gray

She flows in stages with the treacherous deep.

She is the meadow's doe and her young,

Gently and patiently retrieving what she has lost.

She stands alone as vengeful shells fall about her,

Lost in the solitude of degradation,

Gasping for air in the shallow waters.

Does she dare disturb the universe?

Not a sound escapes young wrinkled lips;

Not a soul manages its way into her broken being.

She tries to forget.

She shoots up again.

The pain of loss fills her heart.

The words tremble and remain forever in the cool concentration that is her spirit.

Searching for an exit,

A small dark crevice of hope,

Wondering how desire can be so freely blown away by winds of the past.

She,

Mother of the forests,

Widow of new dawn,

Is a virtual lockbox of mysterious intellect.

Whereas ye know not

what shall be on the morrow.

For what is life?

It is even a vapor,

That appear for a little time,

And then vanished away.

Countless hours

Wasting time

Breath by breath

Surviving in the midst

of my mother.

From one foot to six foot,

Mischievous

And

Impatient

Hoping to achieve

THE AMERICAN DREAM.

When our time on earth

Is finished

And we're laid down to rest.

What have we accomplished?

rushing through life

day after day

We realize

The great punishment is death

to who's next breath is promised

no ones.

Who am I?

I am the air in the clouds

The sunshine in the rain

And the beauty if a rainbow on a sunny day

Who am I?

I am a shadow in the night

The tremble of leaves

And the chill in the fall

Who am I?

I am the cause of seasons

The reason the world turns

And the maker of all mankind

Who am I?

I am the $20 bill for your $50 purchase

The maker of wants

And the one you need

Who am I?

You may wonder

That's hard to answer

Because I'm still finding who I am

PV Fury

one boss of bass,

dressed in sleek blue silk

and exposing his maple wood neck.

I myself,

first made his acquaintance

three days before my birthday,

a gentle push further up the hill.

He and I

settled down to a drink,

he sipped on a chord-like straw

and guzzled the glass of electric gin.

Mr. Fury most obviously

could not hold his liquor

for he belched quite loudly,

and ripped out a thunderous E.

The liquor unfortunately

went straight to his head,

he began burping loudly,

in punchy alphabet prose.

Finally he downed his gin,

his metallic lips relaxed the exhausted straw

and he slumped back in his chair.

In his drunkenness

he mumbled somewhat of a moan,

which seemed to say,

"Let's meet again, my friend,

in three days, for another round."

The same place shall not see me twice

As I sail along the endless river

Swept by my many adventures.

Ports will greet me

Show me hospitality

Then bid me a Bon Voyage

"On to Venice!" I shall say.

The high courts of Italy

May issue bounties for my return

Ah, but no,

Beijing has not yet had its turn

To meet my acquaintance.

Oh, the potency!

The tranquility!

L'ennui never warrants my heart.

The spices I hold as my cargo

Pepper my stern to make it soar.

Fled to the savannas of time

The myriads of antelope and elephant

Dance upon my African memories

As I write from Buenos Aires.

Amundsen's victory beseeches my return

The ice shelf breaking in apprehension

But the kangaroos await

And wait as do the sitars of India.

Siberian Tigers purr to fathom catching

A second glimpse of me.

But beckoning to the light from Alexandria's Pharos

Would be all too spectacular.

An instant if I may

For my thoughts to settle

Like wind-blown dust

As I do trust

That even still the Andes are patient

And the Great Barrier Reef untransient

Wielding my time like an ephemeral dream

I hope to find some plan,

Some scheme,

That guides me further than Coronado might

My true ecstasy lying

Within the reaches

Of galactic flight.

I sit on the pummeling bus

Her crackly hair spray

attacks and assaults my senses

I scratch my arm

and inch toward the window

My eyes drift

down to the sidewalk

cracked

worn with time

lost bubble gum wrappers

haphazard flowers

sprouting through the cracks

soon to be crushed

and brushed aside

They used to be picked with

grimy hands

placed in a vase

already brown

But there they'll stay

growing between the cracks

A dingy penny

lies there to

stolen

Nobody wants pennies anymore

I search in my pocket

The penny

from the classroom floor

I wipe it with my fingers

the bus halts

And I get off

Holding my penny

as empty eyes share a stare

My legs lope across

yellow grass

as dirt brown air infiltrates the sky

and the rumble fades

I reach the wishing fountain

water dingy, dirty

leaves from last fall

mud on a once beautiful stone

I think quickly

And flip the penny

It plunks into the water

drowns

now among others

loved

blessed

just like it

unforgotten...

The penny

remembered

don't fight so much

give more hugs (the way i held my mother, the way she trembled)

take vitamins daily (i feel so sick inside sometimes)

remember less (live more)

digress from jaded (the way i was before my father died)

digress from jaded (the way i walked that day, that year, three years)

looking the mirror less (misshapen fun-house reflection)

inspire

break the axle of the weeping wheel (now i lay me down to sleep)

tear up when babies are born

sing (like breath it comes too instinctually)

love my sisters (you know me too well)

no more depressing music

water the roots (strength, sacrifice, and Catholicism)

apologize (forgive)

let the atmosphere skip a beat (the way i walk into a room)

don't try so hard

survive (do i have to see it this way)

pay out less of life mourning (earth's receptacle of grief)

say the word "daddy" (hear it without wincing)

spend more time among the living (fewer sunsets through gravestones)

don't let it get to be too much

appreciate coincidence (i make my own luck)

love my brother (November Rain)

laugh heartily more often (the way i find everything hysterical sometimes)

scream less (i should count to ten instead)

don't fidget when upset (sometimes i'm so transparent)

let people cry

find spiritual foundation (i sample concepts like cheap brands)

learn (know what i don't know)

remember the Greats (Motown, the Chairman, Ella, Janis, and the Beatles)

remember the Greats (both sides of the family and the best friends)

fix heart ("she breaks just like a little girl")

swim (delight in summer)

don't slip on the A/C water leak stream in the basement (delight in winter)

write

try not to break down after watching the Wonder Years

relish everything (love what i am)