Friday, September 05, 2003

ramble...

stories historic
truth stranger than fiction
archaic my diction
getting worser
explain to me what "govern" meant
memory lapse decaying affliction
needing a fix for crippled thinking
invalid blinked when twitch
triggered finger
and conducted twitch to grounded body
drowned in snotty blood
snitched live and let live
killers back in Little Havana
emotions mixed on Che Guevara
dead red or
revolutionary communist
munition fed revolver
hammer swing under sickle moon
i spit to cleanse sickly wound
will not die in a revolutions womb
lament over unknown soldier`s tomb
the revolution will not be televised
because by then we will have exhausted all our fuels
argue with fools
listen to old men spin yarns enough for a thousand spools
sicarios drool as blood pools
guns are tools
in slang linguistic and realistic
you just don`t understand
this kid isn`t gifted
i earned it.

--- from edgar allen poetic

a soldier

come back safely. i wish things were different

Wednesday, September 03, 2003

melanin monroe: there you are
melanin monroe: i am listening to sad songs
melanin monroe: booo (( crying ))
archon236: why you listening to sad songs?
melanin monroe: i dunno.. i am the saddest masochist
archon236: hahaha

=============
Now You're Gone
"Who would steal you?
I still feel you
Now you’re gone
And these are lies
It’s not real
This is more than I can feel
It’s all wrong
Now you’re gone
I work hard to carry on
If you could’ve seen
How I’ve been
Then you’d know how much you meant

Who would steal you
I feel you
Now you’re gone
Now you’re gone
Now you’re gone
Gone
Gone
Gone
Don’t you know how much you meant?
=============

archon236: what you need to do is stop listening to sad songs and listen to some metallica
archon236: and then come to my house so we can slap-box
melanin monroe: that sounds fun!

Monday, September 01, 2003

"who is in charge- you or your heart? it's you. and your heart is your employee. now tell your heart to get up off its ass and to get to work!"- hank hill, King of the Hill
saturday night at venice beach

i long for it to be that night again
where the earth and ocean meet
and where moonshine kissed my cheeks
and the breeze ran her fingers thru my hair

where divine forces lit my inner sage
and i am grounded
that the next day, i took flight

where the waves crashing was an
ominous neon blue
it looked extraterrestrial
"wouldn't it be scary if an alien walked
out of the water?," i said.
"wouldn't it be scary if jesus walked
out of the water?," cindee said

lakan said it was the plankton
wendell said it was mars being so close
sarah and nina said it was pollution
cindee said it bioluminecense
i told them it was magic

and to leave it at that.