Tuesday, July 27, 2010

I Got No Gimmick

My parents did not migrate
And I grew up nowhere near the hood
I was surrounded by alligators
Swimming in rivers and bayous
Oblivious to the revolving world outside
Ghetto dreams and fantastic schemes
Simply aren't my foray
Personal histories are dangled before me
Like puppets on a string
They sing to me of rags to riches
And triumphant struggles, both ways uphill
Preaching penny pinching philosophies
To poverty stricken wards
To put a face on the American struggle
Of remaining a minority under Uncle Sam's watchful eye
Tenderly, gracefully sneaking off with bits of flesh
Bankrolls are spread thin
Like a single mothers payday advance loan
Already presenting issues with the re-payment schedule
Monday through Friday, wedged in a corner
Of some forgotten space
Powerless against the corporate wills and growing bills
Stuck like a pig
There is no way out of this rat race
But I have friends who care
And a family that is mostly supportive
I have no piles of luggage
To unload on some random soul
I'm just a receiver
An antenna, bent awkwardly for better reception
Contorted in pre-prescribed positions of power
But lacking all the authority
Words bubble on my lips
Popping, smacking in defiance of some great unknown
My strained voice falters on the wind
Drowned in waves of better stories
More apt backgrounds
That shape people into who they are
But I am your mother, your father,
That homeless man under the bridge
I've gone from rags to riches
And been pulled right back down again
To survive in squalor, a so called leech on society
I reek of complacency and stand in the background
A bland face amongst a sea of more interesting features
But I remain a part of the wave
Crashing down around you, a ceremonial rite
By which I will write what I believe to be right
Regardless of my less than traumatic journey
During the course of this particular life thus far
Experience is but one form of wisdom
These bunny ears catch all the channels
And they become less static drenched
With each step I take towards the horizon

Pen to Sword and Back Again

I slice through the tension
Peel back the layers
And try not to cry
As I struggle to make out
Just what's underneath
Penning together a few lines
Pearls of wisdom strung along
Slip away due to my poor craftsmanship
Into the ocean, sinking down to the bottom
Of a never-ending barrel
Spilling over with the outgrown remnants
Of monkey men in suits
Blades of steel are produced
And lobbed at my head
Amongst a splattering of gunshots
Raining down on crimson covered streets
Washing away our present
Fixing us on the future
A single bright light
Stands its ground, high above the crowd
So I stared straight into the sun
Just to understand something new
But nothing happened, I still see
And still pretend to agree
That these poorly written words
Were forged strictly
By the flames of a war
That burned someone else's throat

Preaching Appreciation

She grew up in the Congo, man
She like to get naked
And fuck
On baseball fields
Or the side of the road
Anywhere really
I loved that girl
His glazed over eyes
From recent encounters
With the local kids
Filled with tears
That fled to the corners
And dribbled down
A stubbled mess
Quiet and man-like
Like the men that wrote
The book in my hand
While cowering in foxholes
Go home, man
And hug your mama
Tell her you love her
That's all there is
Love, man

Baton Rouge Babblings

Lukewarm relationships
Well greased
With the American Dream
Denied maternal instincts
Room to breathe
Much less step
And interrupt the flow
Life's rougher than a corn cob
Shucked back home
To eat her own irony
Spoon feeding the invalid
And two boys disguised as men
Temptation in the next room
Openly displayed
Mocking court orders
Still, its far from chubby fingers
Throwing toys at grandma
Little hellions

Inconvenient Intoxication

The arduous trek
From Cali to Tejas
Via public transportation
Left plenty of time
For self medication
Healing a bruised ego
With convenient
Travel sized bottles
She drank the rainbow
I helped *67 a stranger
After she cried on my shoulder
But slipped off
When she squatted
Next to the dumpster

Mortal Edging

Gentlemen, meet your meat
The soldier's standing at attention
Just waiting for your orders
Grab hold
Of that labored thought
And see it through
To the end
Spunky contractions
In enigmatic fashions
Stand at the forefront
Of today's tomorrow
Sent off to the front lines
Without protection
From even more expansive
That'll suck the soul
Right out of your head
Digitally enhanced
In unappealing light
Stealthily disguised
As incoherent impostors
From the over stimulation
Of self perpetuated