I will show you what it's like...

i would have you twist the knife
less prodding for the sake of time
if blood will lease grief from your life
stop staying and just finish mine

 i don’t proclaim to give my worth
and am suddenly dissuaded:
the sun won’t shine on half the earth
and still crave for what is shaded

stop looking over shoulders slyly
stop saying things you won’t
stop slicing me and leaving, crying.
you either love me or you don’t.

111011

There is no depth to which my heart would not consider sinking
For greed has crept within the walls I built in ordered thinking.

Daylight

Put one up and shackle me, not clean logic procreation
I did not invent the wheel, I was the crooked spoke adjacent
While the triple sixer’s lassos keep angels roped in the basement
I walk the block with a halo and a stick poking your patience
Ya’ll catch a 30 second flash visual
Dirty cooperative net platoon
Bloom head trip split
Ridiculous
Fathom the splicing of first generation
Fuck up or trickle down anti hero smack (Cracking!)
I pace the game to zero hour all completion green (Splash!)
Duke of early retirement. Pick a dream
American nightmare hogging the screen
I’ll hold the door open so you can stumble in
if you’d stop following me around the jungle gym
Now it’s an honor, and I spell it with the ‘H’ I stole from heritage
Merit crutch stole the wretched refuse of my teaming resonance
I promise: temperance towards breed with a leaning conscience
See the creed act  - since responsive - but my sport supports the wattage
And I’m sleeping now (Wow!)
And the settlers laugh
You won’t be laughing when your covered wagons crash
You won’t be laughing when the buses drag your brother’s flags into rags
You won’t be laughing when your front lawn is spangled with epitaphs
You won’t be laughing
Then I’ll hang my boots to rest when I’m impressed
So I triple knot them and forgot them
This origami dream is beautiful
but man, those wings will never leave the ground
Without a feather and a lottery ticket
Now settle down.

All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day,
put the pieces back together my way
All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day,
put the pieces back together my way.

-Aesop Rock

101311

I am not designed to break. I am the hardest Consonant
I give this world his discipline, and bond it to cold documents
I do not respond with folds. Nor do I con for bronze or gold
And silver only means to me what fingers wear because they’re told
I cannot be bought by those not taught to draw their lines this taut
And surely, I cannot be caught by one whose greatest strength is thought

Or feelings? Fraud. Emotion? Flawed.
But now, oh how, that’s all for naught. 

New life is found. Crossed seas of apathy,
braved disbelief and waves of grief
and You have made my ground. 
For every sharp sound I expound, You - Vowel - let your breath be found
Your perfect curves give worth to words. Voluptuousness unreserved
You give the earth her curing verse. My damage done is Yours incurred
And You won’t be deterred by these who readily indict what’s right
And You, mercifully, won’t give up on one who is so prone to fight.
Your beauty’s shape: perfection’s sight
this cold, calculating heart ignites. 

1012112

I cut the cord with rhythm. My uneven’s evident already
Imperfection has a bed with me whenever’s never deadly
But honestly, and obviously, my lungs are not my property
Apostasy’s forgotten me. And that suits me quite properly
I do not mind the fact that someday I’ll be blind by coins - I’m average
My avarice: more than adequate, but endless breath is sacrilege 
But where my greed’s proceeding is the arena of our meeting
I do not want to be alone. I cannot seem to cease entreating
For retreating is so small an act, and too large for death bed covers 
So still, I’ll take this heart attack. Instead of looking for another.

101211

Now it’s almost all elevens, so turn your plea around and get in.
The time it took to write this rhyme was not that which I mind spendin
But I won’t promise it will stay that way. We strayed for rolling waves of amber grain
And now that rats have tracks in the heart of harvests, there’s no talking today

I know you’re looking for the golden bridge to gap the rusted pad locks
But the only thing that’s holding you is heartless hands of broken clocks
And anecdotes aren’t antidotes. I never claimed to handle throats-
I’ve never been the knife or lump that effects necks without a rope

Knots or not, my stomach’s rocked and weighted as your bullet’s cocked
It’s not the holes that get me, it’s whole holy war knocked off its dock
You cleaned my clock - obscenely, absolutely, and completely
But if you’re waiting for my bleeding, there’s a line for bleacher seating 

What can I say? The things that clinging fingers didn’t figure yesterday? 
That flings don’t bring the kind of sting as watching blackened wings slap you away?

No. You made my choice. And I conceded yours. 
Now seating civil seeds won’t floor the four and gory horses

Still remembered are the times in which our focus was above the view
It doesn’t stop the fact that I’m still angry and in love with you.

100511

You’ve moved to laughing at the time gone by
Ignoring times and dates of dates
As long as friend will hold your lazy eye
You won’t be pestered with mistakes

You’ve chosen change and holding something else
Above the molding of your heart
No more a victim looking at myself
You’ll take a mirror for your art

Would not be bothered by respect for you
Could not believe someone would yell 
So just keep looking after her and you
And keep discount me on the shelf
I didn’t know this childish attitude
Came free with one request for help 

092911

Through all the lows and downs we’ve been through
All the turns and twists
Every broken finger pointed at you
From my freshly bloodied wrist

All the fights and screams and bitter spitting:
Our words that got away
Your cuts and slices at my heart - befitting
Nothing gold would stay

But here, we turn the corner vowing 
Those fools we were, no more
Redemption comes so swiftly knowing
Our city is New York

092411

Sometimes I feel that all the world exists to fill my fantasy
That life is only played in shifts, by those who crave my company
And then, reversal strikes its hand. I feel despised - and worse, forgotten
For how could I, a man so small, fit anywhere that’s not the bottom
Till last, the answer smiles at me. It sits just where it was before
When last my twisted sense of pride began to beg attention’s ore

I’m me: no towering, shining feat - no dust in cracks left in the floor
I’m he: no less, and nothing more.