What comes to mind

While reading headlines.

Good riddance.

Where is what?

Oh no.

The WORLD has lost its mind.

How sad,

Go figure.

Lincoln told bawdy jokes?

Ellen isn't cheap,

How dare you Mr. President.

No wonder.

How did anyone allow that,

50 times?

Tornadoes are not 

God's spinning wrath

You GOP twat.

Good for her,

I already know,

I don't want to know. 

WHY.

Okay. 

Go sisters, do it your way.

Good riddance to DADT 

Once again.

Noooooooooooooo

A thousand times

I can't take it

So I have stopped reading the news.

I can't handle 

The state of the union anymore

...Until next time.

Put me on

Screams and shouts may knock you out

But murmurs do excite you

Cut up into wares and wastes blending in the wake

Bleeding in the day

Boys on the walls stare in anguish

Trapped in a frame and glazed over in printed death

Begging for another chance to be remembered

As more than a photograph 

Take a picture it'll last longer

6 seconds too long 6 seconds too late

We spill and fill over and under

Hell welcomes you in the icy wastes

'The warrior-poet has passed on' and we make way

For a weaker state

of mind slow the pace

yet I don't know how and 

I can't wait

Spin Cycle

Another lost soul

Looks for a place in the world 

Brother sock is gone. 

Will I be

Take another drag of life in a cigarette

and dream

I've felt a burning fever all my life 

And if I stop to breathe I suffocate 

Ageless in wrinkled Time

Eaten Alive.

In a climate

run rampant with obscenity we cannot do

What the beats did and break a mold of etiquette 

Where there now is none.

Yet to return to manners completely would be 

A blaspheme of Kerouac and of Ginsberg and 

Especially Carr.
Their war, the second of the world
Second only to the world
Their war, their words tearing up
Nash and these real enemies, because
"The Fascists are HERE!"
in their structures we die
Untuck your shirt and
Save my life. 

So where to, in this madness obscene jungle

Utterly the same?

Nothing seems capable of shocking any more,

So I will jab at light sockets until it jars us awake

Different people come in and 

Replace the same, drop a bomb

Drop a name

Yet all are perpetually offended by any offhand thing,

A manic society of hypocritical imps 

Who don't deserve a last hurrah.

Locked in school shackles I am determined not to be

And to live rather than to already be dead, or die instantly.

Wrath shakes the page 

Shouldn't stir us awake

Break the spine

Break the circle

Break my heart 

As long as you make it a good one.

The heart of it is

I become manic

When I love it all

And yet not a soul

Ce n'est pas un poème.

I am the disruption 

Break the chain love

Tied in knots like

We don't care.

We do.

Sees it in your eyes

And on your tongue

Wants to taste it, know

Where you're from and

What you're going to

Break me if that's the case

It has happened and I know

It will happen again

But I will be carried away with you

If we both so desire

We sense it and we know

But fear to speak it for

Rejection or

Lack of a better word.

So adrift are we that

Wait for moments that never come 

This is why we must break the chain

Ourselves and make fools instead

Because it is better than not knowing

A missed opportunity 

Do not waste

Time and pick ye rosebuds 

Before they wilt and whither away

Like so many hopes and grandiose 

dreams of mine

Lines gone by like dust and sand

Against the grains 

I am the wind yet

Someone must ground me

The earth that I love

Will push back and say

"Why why why"

Why does anyone do anything?

Because I love. 

B R E A K T H E C H A I N L O V E

Humanity 
needs a new 
Movement.

The organized chaos of us all
is unfolding before you
In theory and in practice
The writing at present

Does not reflect this
To my knowledge
Cheap thrills,
Primadonna detective stories
Pretending to be new
Strangle me with knowledge

Falsified and tarnished
Fucked over and up up away

Hang glide 
Tailspin
Remind me why we're alive
I see it all clear as the glass
That severs our spine
Collage this life and make it
Something like before all the shades
Dying and coming back in the light 
That is now and let us make something new
From all the old things that torture our souls
And beg for us to come back.

Nothing is real and our minds are everything
Existence is ours and ours alone
The universe projects our lifes and our deaths
All at once and I see everything
That ever is and was
In that lonesome cry that opens up the night

And I am a god in my own mind
God of this revolution that I have not yet seen
Happen and it may be nothing and perhaps
This time is of no significance.

But all times are of significance and I can see
Something wonderful happening even if
No one else can
And I love it because it's
Exactly what I wanted to say and if no one
Else ever cares then who cares
Because this is all I need

We beg for it to come back
But instead we've brought it here
And it is us all and now
We make it all and build and carve
Our names into trees that we'll never see

Drunk crash talk and 
Coffee cigarette ash veins 
That clog the day and make everything
f   r   e   e

I ripped out all the pages like he said
And I found myself none the wiser
For even as a rebellion it was still 
Just following the orders of another 

So make it all     
y o  u  r   s

Every time is exciting if you want it to be and you
Open your eyes and your mind to it
Your heart will open too and bleed but it's alright
That's what living is for anyway.

Thus let us open the dam Lose your mind
Flood the gates with this madness fiction reality
Where all these favourites these times have mixed Now
Let this religion that is science
Lead us to yet another

New Vision, the Beat goes on
And the Beats go on Another unabashed circle
Ready to rape morality
Suffocating us to allow for a 
Desperately needed 
And unexpected yet planned

Rebirth. 

Oh hell,

We are the cushioned generation
Unaware of our surroundings past the pillows
One feather poking out of place
And we're history.

If we learn through suffering,
Middle Class America
Has learned nothing. 

My father was one of seven,
With that much family you get by
Ate canned tuna for a year
As he worked through college.
My mother was the oldest, like myself,
But she also had to play 
Head of house
As her mother played breadwinner
And her father played drinking games.

And I sit at a desk,
Lazily attempting work,
Having faced no challenges
No trials nor tribulations
To speak of.

And I have learned many things, 
But still I have learned nothing. 
To live you must suffer
As much as you succeed 
And I have done neither. 

I seek out adventure,
Some kind of mystery,
A revolution, 
Anything at all
To break the dull monotony
It is all the same, 
And after a while
It wreaks of suburbia
And I cannot abide this.

I want to change,
Be part of a movement,
Leave some sort of scar
Of why I was even here. 

We are the generation
That does not try
To come up with ideas
Because we think everything 
Has already been done. 
How can you be different
When everyone is different
We whine to our captors

Ourselves
We build our own fences
The white picket ones 
We abhor

And as every day 
Looks the same
As every face
Blurs into the next
I crave hardship
In some way or other
That will test me
And teach me
I want to help
To improve
Something
Anything
Help
Me. 

Another listless cry amoungst a sea of cowards,
Rambles on as I hum drum drum 
And type away on milky background
Drowning in imagined ink and
Self pity.

This is not what we were meant to be
And you have to fight it
You must avoid this fate
At all costs,
Otherwise 
It will
Become
You.

Every generation is lost
in their own way. 

We are the 
Frankengeneration.
We must be.
We created the very Monster we abhor
And do not teach it,
Only run. 

Fight the signs and do not flee
No matter what the horror
Feel the pain you fear
Experience wholeheartedly,
Even if it is broken-heartedly,
Because indifference is a fate
Worse than death. 

Comfortable
Is Death.

Break the mould 
And spring from this concrete jungle 
pathetic mess
Where everyone is too scared
to say what they mean
to step on toes
to fight the good fight
Or any at all

To live
Before you die

War is not even the same,
And revolutions are happening
All the time
But not here. 

Freedom is an illusion 
Security as well
But we pretend
These are the most 
Important Things
Of All. 

So I will cut through it all
Like a rag tag mess 
Of a surgeon
And pray that I do crash
Because after all,
What's it all about
If not for the thrill?

As long as I take some 
Obligatory house wives
And model citizens
Out with me.

We die every day that
We do not live,
And I've been dying
All my life now. 

So let's get living. 

But when you do go out,
I'm tellin you right now,
If nothing else, you gotta
Give 'em hell, kid. 

Write one true thing.

I do not need to be in love with anyone
When I am in love with the world
With cities and with
Dead men who write beautiful words
And the pages that those words are on
Beckon, ask for more, ask for 
Beautiful binding for their gorgeous books
And I look at them the way 
Someone would look at a magnificent woman
With longing and with care.
Is there not a person in this world
That I am so in love with
Who could make me feel 
As books do? 

The parade of vagabond bohemians
Line up in the streets
Pitch their tents and 
Bargain their wares,
Too keen to see
A wandering eye. 
This misfit family is a home
Like no other, and I 
Imagine myself a hedonist
But find friction too productive
So I wander with the wind,
I become carried away as
I carry myself away.

But with passion is 
The only way to live, 
And if it kills me
Then so be it. 

They say

The infamous they,
Laying claim to the whole world,
Now fight fire with fire. 

Die today, live tomorrow.

The trees are raining
Confused sky
Shatter in the sand
More Time goes by
Stomachs churn
Justice flies
Taken with me
Asks "why why why"

Hellhound Hemingway blues
Portrayal
Betrayal 
Of us all 
And yet none.
We take our Time
It always flies
Otherwise crawls
Shot dead,
Bleeding, 
Begging

Removed
from Reality
the days
eat at me and 
decay

Cannibal
We are all one
Animal
Each of us.

The words gain life
When they bloom on the page
Weeds separating skeleton from flesh
Rotting on the ground. 
And now

My hand that wrote
A mechanism
Machine
I am the means,
Come away with me.

The words are their own
I do not pretend
They belong to me
Not mine
Nor yours 
Do not pretend
Excavate like
You own them
And it all. 

Disenchanted
We are ever enchanted

Time takes us all
We are present
Were future
Will be past

And Now?
We Learn. 

We always learn 
We always know

We never know.

This may not be true either.

This has been going on 
For some time now
And I hope that we can understand
It cannot stop
We can only cope
We can only die
And dream
A psychopathic circle,
Unsympathetic
A disorganized disaster
of organized chaos.
Discouraged by circumstance
We laugh
And danger creeps
And demons peep
On this mad circus
They don't antagonize us
Agonize us
We do it to ourselves
And harmony is a pipedream
Reserved for only sometimes
Yet they fade
like glory and time, 
Thought to be infinite

But they are not. 

Nothing is infinite
We will last for ever
Nothing is infinite
We are all infinite. 

But no one knows.

And make poems into audible sound,

Type it when it isn't coming out

I can scream as loud as you yet

I cannot hear the words coming out

Fight it and die

Lay a track in the mud

Danse again, 

Danse macabre

A typewriter begs for me 

Yet this atrocity beneath my fingers

Is all that comes

Laid to waste in the dust,

The dust is my home. 

Clear the way, little rebel, 

Bones break as easily 

And I cannot distinguish

What is real from what is fiction

No one can

It's in our blood

Or lack thereof

And everything could be

An illusion of our minds

Collective subconscious

Unconscious 

Every moment at once

Forever occurring

Make way for us all 

We pour and we melt and we die

Determined

For one last shot.