Monthly Archives: May 2013

rashidiya bound skyview

trails of jet smokes in the clouds

eclipsing the sun

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the evening specials al barsha edition

a kid who’s obviously retard
with huge headphones and a sly grin
and a blank stare at the road ahead him

a man whose probably the father
beating both his own ears with
empty soda bottles while driving

and i fucking wonder who really has disadvantages.

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in memory of our dead muse

what a beauty
standing sideways
elegantly posed
unmoved by the
fast-paced
RTA train
i thought
she’s a
classmate
from a college
english subject
always a sight
to see and now
looking more
like your
twilight
movie star

a far cry
from the
battered wife
that she was
then,
and dead
and unsolved
and unrecognized
and unfound
that she is
now.

( dedicated to ruby barrameda )

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obviously obscurity

songs unheard
art with no audience
thoughts silenced

there is a difference between
having your poems read by others
and keeping it with yourself

most would hate to know the answer

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affirmation from a negro poet

that you should not fear
one who speaks to himself
for he is a poet —

i believe you. for i am.

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hell in venus

if there is hell on Earth
then it is on Venus
and i tell you man
if you’re on my wavelength
you know what i mean
you cannot complain
if you have the money
and no one to care
then you’re not there
when everything happens
its always somebody
not you in there in action
having a piece of the cake
you’re not there
you’re someplace else
you’re with your family
tending the dog and staying
late watching pirated dvd’s
you’re with your wife
looking for an excuse
to avoid a big fight
you’re with your friends
back in the saddle again
you’re with yourself
and talking to yourself

time passes slowly and
time passes fast and
you pay no mind whether
you’re moving or not
because you’reĀ 
someplace else
looking but not touching
touching but not tasting
tasting but not liking it
and the devil you met
is a friend that you covet
a couple of years ago
you say hello and he tell
you to stay but you’ll walk
away and restlessly you
changed your mind
any given day after all
you’re not there
you’re in someplace else
and you say this place is
something else and wish that
you’re not there
you’re in someplace else

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thomas chatterton in the same room

say where have you been? – don’t do me no favor
you’re too late for me, and if you’re a ghost
then you are a ghost and i don’t need you.
go talk to that boy, he’s in love and desperate
to let the world know about it and i find that morbid
if he aspires to be a poet so sit with him put a different
heart on him go twists his sight and make him see death;
fifteen years ago, i asked you to give me inspiration and
here i am now probably dying in a lot more similar ways
like you but im glad with what you’ve done though it’s not
something to talk about to anyone, but that boy you ought to
tell him we have a small room so he can’t just fuck around
unless he got plenty of time to juggle in his pocket
make him listen make him do drugs or something get him laid
until inspiration flows out of him like divine cum on the
river of holy euphrates yeah yeah he’s getting better
with the writing but tell him if he wanna keep on playing pablo
don’t blame me if nothing comes out of it because he did not pay
attention when i said go fuck around a lil bit and quit beating his meat
go get a lady go get a whore, that will put a radical change in his head
buy himself a new perspective. so stop spending your time on me,
we’re old friends and i know what you already know
and i cannot be impressed by you anymore.

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