poetry archive


i won't go back and edit these to my liking, so i take no responsibility for their faults.
for all that is good about them, i prefer to be fully accountable.


the year 2002


50.)Permanent Instant

-in every moment
where wondering why
we are still where we are
where the patterns are drawn-

(is this permanent instant
where colors change,
traditions die,
and religions are born)

Cockroaches (on the surface)

Through mastery of adaptation,
they will be immunized
of even our greatest disasters,
they will wait for us to solve ourselves,
and claim their roles as masters,
and live in the beautiful palaces that we have built for them,
and spread their massive empire across the ocean,
and feast on all that is even remotely salvageable,
from the towering heaps of garbage that have coalesced along
the outskirts to
the hotzones and

Along the crater’s edge is a dilated crest of delectable crumbs
emanating radioactivity and aural atomic chaos,
ingesting the remnants of a nature’s long last,
which has kept them in hiding throughout eras past,
from the birds to
the humans from
the hulls of our rolled-up newspapers to
the soles of our shoes for
eras to come.

once life in general has been violently disjointed,
the only creatures disgusting enough to tread throughout
a thoroughly disgusted earth,
are the newly appointed cockroach historians,
jiggling their crowns as they giggle out loud……and eat dinner.

A List

God is love
Life is good
Knowledge is power
That is all
Time is money
Money is power
Ignorance is bliss
Innocence is lost
God is dead


the year 2001



common truth is word of mouth
under the soils of misunderstanding
lies a beauty succumbed
ugliness exposed like divine intervention
divinity is suffocated

You Too Could be a Winner

it's never too late,
there is still a chance,
the world is still waiting for you.
I just know it,
and you know it,
you too could be a winner


time feels like a crooked wheel of turning moments
that allows itself just enough leverage to conceal its repetition

First Past Hell

a whole wreck of a disaster
has compiled
to create a glimpse into the earliest truth
hardship cultivates in twicetime
through experience
you have been headstarted


the thought makes them tremble
so anticipatory they tread the barriers
oh, they can see what’s on the other side
but they are
like we are
too afraid to focus

Love Poem

My love is…..
My love is…..
an undeniable thing that I cannot believe
an unbelievable thing that I cannot describe
I cannot describe
and I do not want to


If I were a dog
I would be so cunning
I would outwit my tail
and chew it
until it
bled to death
and die happy.


it takes a rapid-fire
continuously attentive
to catch and clock my maneuvers
you see
you missed it


those apprehensive souls
so afraid of the bones’ rattle
that they fail to find and appreciate
such splendid rhythms


let the flighty and misdirected
horsepower of a good intention
be your chariot

let your absentminded
hands subconsciously rev
that son of a bitch
until an empty tank pleads innocence into eternity


to think I have passed
so many attractions
with an upward glance
and downward assumption

to think our closest
are even less like us
to think our greatest companions of parallel soul
are strangers

I miss them without introductions
I pass as if I were a near-sighted shadow,
but from time to time,
I cannot help but notice


you have one wealth of a body
for my greedy fingers to find
an ass like seven figures
spend me over
rob me blind
and if notion to negotiate
my worth for looks so nice
does exist, I wish to budget
fuck the bargain
name your price


…and further still,
toppling nonstoppingly,
edge over fist,
fist to mouth,
let us get…



found and find
lost and lose
and and abandon
chosen and choose

Supply and Demand

Like herbivore dinosaurs and diminishing reservoirs
We’re all out of ours,
So we’ll take yours

Delusion (Despite the Urge)

I had a moment’s silence
and when I caught that unmistakable pitch of the real
I let a frightful squeal submerge it right back
into its pool of distracted and acted as if
nothing had happened


from when i was 16


An Ode For the Intro

First, to start for intro:
Start from the beginning with best to first foot forward
into the nexts, seconds, thirds, alsos, thens, and words
Whether then to begin shall succeed should indeed
open opportune need to proceed with deed you did
but, take heed if you will,
Let not begin descend
for crooked be the path we find
will wind to the end

The End


The Fourth Dimension

the fourth dimension
the ugliest creation
of God’s participation
and infinite tension
too tangled to mention
too queer for explanation
throughout the full duration
of his twisted intention
so shrink and cower
your present motivation
and faulty fornication
‘fore the end of the hour
so shriveled and sour
is my interpretation
of God’s imagination
and his infinite power



Outside of herself
feels of oil and aloe vera
inside of her self
paisleys, plaid, and pinstripes
from she I sip
juices that drip to my grateful lip
from I she feel
with the hungry appeal of an evening meal
voracious emotions expressing utmost devotions
as spacious as the oceans
a violent array of silent feelings that I cannot display
a love eternal
so vast, yet eternal
inside to outside to tame the infernal
evolve into air