The Warmth Of Bridges Set Ablaze

I find it adorable when
you carve your opinions
into the clouds
and expect people
to record the spectacle
and use it as
pornagraphy
as if you were more
than just suburban skin
All those blank picket signs
you keep around
"just in case"
I pissed the letters
W
A
R
on them
so you'll be honest
for a single moment
You
of outdated fame
with the idiot dodo
nesting in your hair
carving break up letters
into your thighs
then smiling
with the blood in your teeth
will one day reach for
the hand that gives gold
to every passerby
and pray it will touch you
as if
it could ever relate to
you

A Romantic Evening In The I.C.U.

When we ignited this
body of concrete
and fluorescent lights
we didn't strike the match
in a shroud of fraud
or as an
act of revolution
No
we only did it
to light up
the flash
in our eyes
and to dance in the ash
We thought the flames would
extend to the heavens
and send it collapsing
at our feet
but they just died
in a thosand mile downpour
of tears
that left us crawling
sick
to any sign of life
but our own

A Parable For Sodomites And People Who Sleep With Their Sisters

This is a piece I wrote back in 2010 that I feel is more relevant now with the Phil Robertson / Duck Dynasty situation.

Adam and Steve used to walk down to the reservoir and fuck behind the waterfall to hide their love. One day they saw Jesus, his leg trapped under a boulder. They used their limited strength to push it into the sea, sealing the waterfall forever. Our Savior gave them each a kiss and promised the star-struck lovers entrance into Heaven. A few weeks later some rednecks caught them making love and hung their dainty bodies from an oak tree overlooking the reservoir. Three months passed and a tornado ravished the inbreds' trailer park; ripping their obese, snuff spit-drenched bodies to bits. Now Adam and Steve sip wine coolers with God while the heathens get sodomized in Hell.

Punctuation Is For Pussies And Sane People

When you asked me to slow dance in the twilight of all the world's detonated nuclear warheads I wasn't expecting the dance floor to disintegrate under your every step and I wasn't expecting the music to be replaced by the cries of children with corroded skin and I wasn't expecting you to kiss me as your body turned to black smoke and crawled deep into the crevices of my lungs.

Mechanic

All the things you
could never teach me
fall from me
like so many
angels
I've spent years
carving your face
into mine
with your old
rusted knives
and it doesn't hurt
any less
now
and it never will
The only thing I
have ever wanted
truly
is for you
to save me
from every
molecule
and for you
to hug me
and tell me
that I am worth so much more
than the rot
growing
on my heart
all these years
without you

What A Drag

I've been
dragging this corpse behind me
for so long that
I don't even remember
what it looked like
or why
I'm even pulling it
Maybe
I'm looking for
a place
to bury it
or maybe
this is just
what my purpose in life is
The only things I know
are the rot
that has permanently etched itself
into my nostrils
and the lingering taste
of apocalypse
on my crumbling tongue

Disease

The Old Child
bandages a few cuts
on his thigh
before a grenade
detonates
in his guts
He places his hands
over the gushing hole
as He saunters
across concrete
forest
plains
ice
and ash
while His injuries
trail behind him
like a lost
child
When He finally reaches
the desert
He is reduced to a
glacial crawl
a highway of blood
stretched for miles
behind Him
Before He dies
a serpent slithers
across His outstretched
stained hands
and wraps itself
around The Old Child's
chest
gives Him the deepest kiss
He ever knew
and whispered
"Fate Is God"

Support?

I always have to roll my eyes when they tell us that the camouflage toddlers are fighting for our free will when we've been swimming in bullet proof rivers for years while they follow the twisted vision of dead gods and their pederast uncle.

Organ

My opinion is more sacred than yours. Mine has been proven with research and is backed by people more intelligent than both of us. Throw those written words to the rats along with your proof and common law. Conspiracy is fact. God in 1080p.

Decoming

It's been a long time coming
As humanity turns
into piles of pink
sludge
before my eyes
they'll speak
in grunts
and beeps
like rusted nails
into my ears
And the air
will become water
And the water
will become magma
And I
will no longer belong here
I
will launch myself
into whatever lies
beyond
and whether it is
filled with perfect days
or decomposing like rats
it's got to be better
then what is becoming
now

Equality

I was sitting in my therapist's office, looking at all the fading spirits who were waiting for a hand to run through their tattered hair and a voice to reassure them of some relief in this burning existence, when I began to wonder what brought us all here: Muscle-straining loneliness, addiction to Hell, the ghost of love, the broken organs resulting from poverty, the murder of childhood...

This planet is twisted, truely

Then I began to calculate the negativity trapped in this room. Everything our brains hold could break through our skulls one day and boil under the heat of existence. The world would suffocate in that stream, reaching for whatever we are trying to grasp now.

As well it should...

Shedding Limbs

People can be so hateful and odd, sticking their heads into your life as they prey a target appears on their head. I refuse to take aim. They'll see you in an open grave and be all too willing to dig it deeper with a smile.

These people do not deserve friendship or even enemies. What they do need is the feeling of a complete void. You know, the same thing they're opening up within you. Maybe it will come. Maybe not. Christ it hurts. Friendship burned and then pissed on.

Cut them away like gangrenous limbs.

No More Memories

We deserve
nothing more
than to be buried
under 2000 feet of
nuclear winter
where each flake
resembles
our disgusting uniqueness
And we deserve
nothing more
then to have our
accomplishments
carved in those graves
Assault weapons
hanging trees
bent bodies
bloodied chambers
brandished crosses
in front of our dead eyes
forever
Yet we deserve
nothing less
than to be loved
the way that God
loved Job

...In All Walks Of Life

I ripped out
God's vocal cords
tied them around
my neck
and leaped
from the sky
As I
was falling
the clouds turned
sepia
and rushed into
my nostrils
smothering my organs
making them gasp
for anything
When the
cord snapped
a crimson serpent
slithered up my
forearm
and tightened
before my obsolete body
plummeted
to the callous planet
below

War Fetish

Long sleep
for the American
dream
Camouflaged children
led into bullet storms
and watched over
with covered eyes
inside empty suits
They barter
in blood
and poverty
and sing the opera
of gun fire
explosions
and screams
but the
infants
are just happy
to take part
This has always
been a win-lose situation
these arid nations
drenched
in bodily fluids
because there's a downpour
of limbs and bones
and intestines
while we're left wondering
if God is weeping
or if He's singing
in the rain

S.A.D.

I have long related
to the cold death of
Autumn
My organs fall
as the shattered leaves do
and the fantasies
of hanging
like an old vine
from a naked tree branch
never seem to leave
on these days
and the leaders
I have followed
for eternity
have drifted away
like the waters of
a creek
and I am left
directionless
as the pollution
within those plodding
waters

Haiyan, Oh Mighty

We tried
not to inhale
the sweat
pouring from the arms
of Death
We pushed against
the crippling force
of the Devil's breath
Our limbs ripped
and scattered
like the remnants of
our lives
This mass
liquid grave
half ocean
half tears
that we crawl
out from
reflects our lives
flashed before our eyes
Nothing to go back to
nowhere to go
except the barren fields
where the rags grow
like poverty

Cured?

When your arteries
widened
like dynamite
in the earth's core
I withdrew
into my own
And as
the angels
strapped on
their jackets
I knew
that we would
fall together
Those machines
that kept you floating
might as well
have been breathing life
into the apocalypse
So i ended it
all pain
all misery
all negativity
with the salvation
inside of a
steel shell

I, Plague

My flesh
has sublimated
into sepia fumes
A slow
boring
process
that's left my senses
numb
but filled
with feeling
The jesters vomit
The gods empty
their bowels
I would laugh
or cry
if I could
because it only shows
that just a little
sickness
can force humanity
into the stagnant arms
of chaos

Moldy Tangerines

Cold air rushes
through my tangled hair
bounces across
my cracked skin
I smile
for the flash
of moonlight
on the river's
surface
but the metal
on my breath
rots the
enamel
like love
on the brain
(Splattered against
rubber walls)
Blood is
measured in nano litres
now
splattered against childhood
photographs
erases my face
from everything
I laugh
at the black comedy
of twenty five
years
spiraling the vultures
before a tiny splash
of the imploding universe
fills my head
with the beautiful ambiance
of nothing

Jaded

The sunlight sneaks in through the solitary window in her attic, crawling along the hardwood floor and slithering up my spine. It takes a bite out of my neck and adds another poison to my blackened veins. I can't help but stare at her once perfect body. Her winter skin is draped in tattered jeans and a long sleeve Type O Negative shirt, soaked through with crimson. I run my fingers down her tarred, interstate hair and lose myself in the tangles. The memories of being entwined with such perfection fill me with a tingle as if I'm being shocked by a million tasers. I reach out my hand to caress hers but am drawn back by a stabbing pain in my wrist. There's a slash there for every time she said she loved me.

The words “Good Bye” hover around my head like starving vultures. That is when you know you're truly dead, when your chest aches to free itself from your rotting body and you feel nothing. I remember when all my neurons used to kick. She and I would take night walks in a vast field where the stars would dance in our presence and the waving grass would sing our names. When we would kiss the sky would detonate and rain PCP on our sweating bodies. On those nights we needn't say a word to each other when the heaven in our eyes was pure poetry. Yet, kingdoms can fall under  the weight of mutual psychosis.

We would open our mouths and regurgitate acid down each other's throats. The blisters in my esophagus would crackle and remind me that emotions only fade as the fires of Hell shall. I could tell her bones were turning to ash. In the midst of our war I would hide outside her bedroom window in some bushes and watch her cry hurricanes as she swallowed anti-depressants by the bottle. When the ambulance took her away I would hold back my weakness as I jerked off.

I can hear the police search for her downstairs. It's only a matter of time before they find us. Their footsteps echo the melting walls as her heartbeat once did in my head. The orders they bark to each other are so distance and foreign. I don't care that they're going to find me, I'll greet them with a smile I don't care that I'm going to prison, I have nothing more to do. I just want to spend my last moments of freedom locked away in our atrophied organs.

Cyanide Cappuccino

Alarm of nausea
Sunrise of moonrock
The true artist
rejects the title
tosses it
to the wasps
along with
their social life
and any form of
stability
Shake like sickness
Speak like constriction
The bandwagon hijackers
sip wine
to extinguish their mid life crisis
while we
set the world on fire
through eloquent spite
They'll never know our names
spelled out in ash
on their front lawns
And they'll never know
the pure romance
between a creator
and the gutter

Anatomy

I don't bleed as much
as I used to
You can only
rip open your arteries
so much
before it loses
its luster
I've spilled
my bodily fluids
on so many people
places
things
friends
they they all
have my disease
We all follow
the setting Sun
praying
that the moon
will blind us
from the inevitable flood
when our intestines erupt
after years
of swallowing razor blades

Elephant Plague

I told the steetlight
I was feeling
sick
from the bottom
of a road
flooded with vomit
It blinked
three or four times
before succumbing
to its own illness
I sprawled my ghost body
on the sidewalk
to welcome the inevitable
and before I died
I saw an eagle
slowly flying towards
the ground
Its right wing
weighed down
by the ashes
of a billion
dollar bills

Melody

I met her in a sprawling field
illuminated by the stars
and the crescent moon
When she took my hand
clouds erupted
from the flowers
while the fireflies
spelled her name in every direction
When I kissed her
an army of angels
rose from the ground
and stitched shut our wounds
while maladies
became a distant dream
And when she backed away
her body radiated
a luscious gold
brighter than all the world's bombs
detonated at once
as the stars
and the crescent moon
faded away
in submission

Why So Serious?

He was picking through
a stack of razors
trying to find God
when he heard the weeping
of a thousand children
He stripped off his suit
and pranced
to the cemetery
where they were leaking puss
into an open grave
He pushed his cock
into the orifices
one
by
one
thinking it would help
knowing that it wouldn't
And as this was happening
the dead awoke 
from their slumber
and they shouted at him
with their muffled words
but didn't dare do anything
otherwise
When he was finished
he put his clothes
back on
placed his hands on his hips
and smiled
for the camera
in the sky
as the sea of gravestones
resumed its peaceful
contentment

VIP Tickets To The Pity Party

The insects have been crawling
from my pores
week after week
I flick away an ant
it's replaced by a thousand spiders
When I write my name on the walls
with their insides
all i see is question marks
that make sounds
resembling the howls I once made
when I held my father's rotting hand
in mine
As the guts dry
I embrace it once more
and mouth some words
that could be a condemnation
a hopeful gesture
or gibberish
I fade with the rot
and dream of warmer
years

Reminiscing Of My High School Sweetheart

I can't forget the days
when you would slice the throat
of George W. Bush
and you would nail
the blade
into the palm of my
trembling hand
then you would point at me
while screaming
“Murderer!"
while the citizens of this nation
would rip me apart
like a silent Jihad
and when it was all over
you would hold me
under the summer stars 
and lick my wounds
with your pitchforked
sandpaper toungue
while telling me
that everything would heal
in your arms
and I would smile
in the crippling high
of teenage romance

Rainbow Party System

With better elocution
i could bend the masses
to my non-existent will
With better reflexes
i could have taken the bullet
that rushed toward
Kennedy's head
I am no god
The nightcrawlers leap from my mouth
swing from the chandelier
and smile for the cameras
like a politician
posing with his family
secretly wanting to strangle
them all

Friendship

I peeled the tumor
growing on my left atrium
and tossed it away
with the needles
and stolen change
left in
your wake
Old friend
you're not worth
the rusted scalpel I use
to extract
your every
trace
from existence
and it's not worth
waving goodbye
when all my strength
is being used
to process
my newfound
animosity
to the air
that surrounds you
but it will push me
when I wear the cement shoes
of what used to be

First Date

When I placed my finger
on her cheek
her flesh crumpled
into a million stars
onto the cracked soil below
And as bullet casings fell
from my eyes
I cradled them
like a dying kitten
before they went supernova
and showered the world
in her luminous
mourning

Oh Yes

When you told me you were tired

of this planet

I ripped down the sky

plucked the wings

from every

angel

and said

“Fly away

with me”

And as we sailed

through the sky

you wrote me

love letters

with the ink

dripping

from your lips

I flashed a smile

that opened up the earth

when all the demons escaped

and suffocated

in our drowning light

And that is my reminder

that there are better

things

than being

alone

Gardening With Maurice

On the day I walked

through Eden

where the roses

grew forever

and choked out

the sun

Eve dug her rusted nails

into my jaw

and rammed her foot

through my

ribcage

Then she fell

into a puddle of ash

and was whisked away

with the dodos

and the dinosaurs

It was better

than my first kiss

It was better

than being

God

Mr. Sunshine

Tracing the cracks in my flesh with my tongue

I regurgitate pain

in a rusted pail

sprinkle it over my naked body

Maybe it'll wash away

the graffiti

Maybe it'll make

me sick

I used to worship the sun

as a lover

But I see it's an orange tumor

that keeps growing

and growing

until the blinding ultraviolet

is all

that I know

Robert Has Cooties

You look into my eyes

as if you're staring into

the intestines of Hell

Such

pity

I could bury flower seeds in your pores

and the sprouts would rot

in the beauty of the

soil

The day you finally touched me

you pushed me away

with the force

of a Boeing 757

It was the greatest day

of my life

It was

the end of the world

Fuck You, I'm An Artist, Man!

I built a monument to my failures

using nothing

but the garbage

strewn about

the world

and the rotted wood

over our heads

When I showed it to her

she said “This

is more beautiful

than the raindrops

on my open

grave.”

Then she licked her lips

and tapped my

creation

with her delicate finger

and it toppled

on top of me

and the decay rains on me

to this very day

Split Myself In Two

     I split myself in two today. It was a euphoric experience on par with inhaling your weight in marijuana and shaking hands with God. I remember My First Half went to a street corner and started giving out money to people, all the while preaching about loving each other and the virtues of non-violence. The populace spat on him and hurled insults too vulgar to recall here. My Second Half sneaked up behind him with devils in his eyes and wrapped his arms around My First Half's neck. As My Second Half squeezed with terroristic rage, he laughed while My First Half's face turned blue and regurgitated his insides to the sidewalk. When his victim was dead, My Second Half stood and smiled. Then the people, who were just wishing death upon the man he just killed, started jeering him as they did his victim. They called him a “cruel murderer” and threw everything they could get their hands on at him. And that's when My Second Half exploded, leaving nothing behind but a small baby, crying to be respected.

The Jaundice Revolution

With hands gripping our aching guts

we limp across concrete vomit

with a chorus of moans and screams

lining our infected eardrums

Outside the hospital

a sign reads:

“Cover Charge:

$2000”

Look above,

you'll see the sick and poor

tossed from their gurneys

to splatter on the ground below

and the rats will come

dressed as debt collectors

to feast on the cancerous remains

All we have for nourishment

are our own broken bones

washed down with pus

in hopes that it will all

go away

without the need to sign our soul over

to a hit squad of suits

that are torn

from the devil horns growing within

Buttermilk

We are all dying

Metal vultures circle overhead

spitting shrapnel

at our weakened bodies

We are all dead

Metal flies case our bodies

recording shambling bones

for the coroner overlords

Our biggest mistake

was seeing freedom

through the cracks of their padding

when it was just a terrorist

draped in stripes

the entire time

The greatest threat

to us

does not wear a turban

nor does he live in our phone signals

He wears a suit

and resides in a mansion

paid for with your taxes

When we realize this

the dead shall rise

from their tinfoil coffins

brandishing hearts

wielding neurons

while skies clear

of our magnetic nightmares

and the airwaves will play

cellos and flutes

instead of our thoughts

And in this moment

we will be reborn

Anarchy Of Flames

There were times when

you and I

would blow smoke rings

around the moon

and watch them circle back

to embrace us

like halos around our necks

There were times when

I would get so angry

at the world

and myself

that I would drape my feet

in cement shoes

and dive into your corneas

to let them wash away

everything

There were times when

your frown would break

the world

but you would repair the cracks

with your delicate hands

while singing a love song

for us

then I would pull you aside

to kiss you

deep as a grave

and you would smile

so the world would heal itself

looking more beautiful

than it ever did

There was a time when

your celestial body

lifted itself above mine

hurled at me in an anarchy of flames

and my body turned to ash

and the remains sailed in the wind

for a thousand years

before manipulating themselves

into letters

into words

into this poem

for you

The New Pledge Of Allegiance

I pledge allegiance
to the fist
of the United States government
and to the republic
for which we kneel
one nation
in fear of God 
forever fractured
with liberty and justice for the rich

Black Comedy

The final exclamation point

to 25 years

wasted

my used vessel

twisted into an epitaph

and read by the illiterate

Yes

there were a few crumbs of sunlight

spread throughout the swamp

but

obviously

it wasn't enough to dry the infection

in my arteries

It's just something I got to do myself

I watch the women of the world

spread their legs for paper cuts

while ignoring euphoria

I watch those in power

piss on the poor

and jack off for nuclear orgasm

I watch families torn apart

by magnetic erections

I watch the living get autopsied

by self-appointed surveillance

These things just make it easier

to shove my disease

down God's throat

and laugh as He/She chokes

.

Because we all need to chuckle

sometimes...

Taylor Swift's Cunt

Taylor Swift's cunt

Is imploded and

Crimson

Like the brains of

Shaken babies

Sorry about that

Taybug

I know you'll write

An album

About the whole situation

Comparing me to some

Demented prince

Locking his lovers up

In concrete towers

But its the best fuck

You will ever have

You said so yourself

When I splattered civilizations

Across your ocean face

Taylor Swift's cunt

Is flowing

With the pus

Of a thousand wounder soldiers trapped

In its trenches

But that wasn't my fault

Now my penis

Resembles the drowned titanic

Covered in moss

Falling apart

Just like your career in five years

An Ode To Big Tobacco

So tired in the intestines of the city

Melted fat falls from my forehead and seeps into the cracks in the cement

Someday my entire body will rip these streets apart

But for now I look at the metal sky and see the sirens reflect

I know they're coming for me

They always have been

A sword materializes in my hand

All pixellated and disjointed

I debate on cutting my scalp open

Giving my brain a massage

But then I think better of it

I light up a cigarette and sit on the pavement

Sword in one hand, smoke in the other

And I wait....

The Redundancy Of Redundancy

I sliced my forearm and bled a rainbow

I hung myself and grew rose petals around my neck

I drank arsenic and pissed out a blue sky

I swallowed a handful of pills and shat out a second sun

I stuck my head in the oven and inhaled morning dew

I injected heroin into my veins and climbed Mount Everest

I shot myself in the head and splattered gold against the wall

I provoked some cops and they shot autumn leaves at me

I jumped off a cliff and fell straight to heaven

I smiled and my face ripped itself in two

Anti-Poet

You see them sometimes

Packed into mental asylums

Like brain dead puppies

Mumbling haiku

Shouting sonnets

Writing pentameter in feces

They'll bash their heads

So hard into the padding

Then cry over the

Lack of blood

Until the orderlies stroll

On by

Offering tonight's meal

Coffee and

Veggie burgers

The same thing

Every night

And the patients will

Wolf that down

As if it's the flesh of some

Writer from the ghetto

And at night they'll strum

Their ukeleles

Singing about 1980's pop culture

And kitchen utencils

I don't want to be

An inmate in that Hell

A lifetime citizen

At the Green Grove Sanitarium

For The 100% sane

The Love Of My Life Is A Crust Punk Girl

I recall wandering aimlessly through town

As I am wont to do

When I laid my eyes on you

Girl With No Name

And how you changed everything

In just a few seconds

You had:

A bowl haircut (dyed dark red)

Green, piercing eyes

A leather jacked splattered with punk rock patches

Nails polished pitch black

Tattered blue jeans

Steel toed boots

You were about 5'9''

And had a little bit of meat on your bones

But were more or less thin

And I remember

Chasing pulsing veins

Through the neurons in my brain

In the everlasting euphoria

Of your prescence

As you hovered ten feet above ground

And fell through the Earth

Without making a dent

I'm A Hit At Parties

I'm a misogynist

For a reason

Folks

But I don't believe

Women belong

In the kitchen

That's just silly

I just think

Women are

Evil

Diabolic

Fascist

And treat decent men

The way that Michael Vick

Treats puppies

Right Before I Cum I'll Stop Punching You In The Face

Some people wouldn't

Know what humor is

If George Carlin

Was gnawing tit-fuck jokes

Into their lifeless corneas

These walking punchlines

Slip on banana peels

Into their own

Colons

Only finding giggles at

The bottom of their

Five dollar lattes

Pretension clouds the rest

Who knew that

Their emptiness could

Be funnier than

A spinning bowtie

On a townsquare lynching?

Cerebral Photography

Awash in an ocean of dark matter

a girl with mountain road curves

protrudes butcher knives

from her wrists

carves a still life of a dying forest in my chest

and tells me

“I will always forget you”

The blood has dried on steel

and the canyons remain

rendering “Art” a misnomer

If Suicide Were A Coward's Way Out This World Would Be Filled With Ghosts

There will be a brief calm

The hum of a fan

The flicker of a light

Raindrops pause mid fall

Metal will extend from fingertips

Past the tounge and the tonsils

And then a brief silence

Followed by a loud BANG!

And the world resumes

In it's chaotic dreariness

And the organs and bones splattered against the wall

Will be someone else's problem

Nostlagia Is A Cruel Joke

There were times

when we would drink from cyanide rivers

under the burning sky

We would even inhale the fumes

and look at the world through rainbow glass

Now it feels like the colors are broken

and I'm cradling them in my calloused hands

They are too sliced to feel the damp ghosts

of my former ethanol-brothers

and the poison has long left my system

I just want to drown myself one more night

with you

before the sin of the moon

swallows me whole

How A Pacifist Deals With Anger

I have days where

if life were a human

I would punch them in the face

Twice

Then jack off into their black eyes

and scream

“Where's my dinner, bitch?!”

Love

There was a crowd gathered

in a meadow of dead grass

on the night we hanged you

from the moon

Your plastic body swung

like the pendulum on your

biological clock

as the cigarette burns on our arms

were blanketed by baby skin

The foliage around

sprung to life

wrapped itself around your limbs

and ripped them down

to the healing Earth

among the crying ex-lovers

and everything you owe

West Virginian Book Of The Dead

One the day I burst through

the guts of a stranger

they snapped my photograph

and put it on wanted posters

hung in strip clubs

where the attractions

throw knives at the ugly picture

and giggle to themselves

Meanwhile

I am chased to the ends of the Earth

by some army

whose soldiers all look like me

So I hide within my skeleton

knees bent to my hardened cheeks

and wait for the red skies

to take me

where I started from