random thoughts vs egyptian cotton. 

{ circa 2015 }

the world isn’t shades of grey,

but you were

until you decided life was colorful

when time stopped,

and rodin marble bled

into basquiat red..

that’s from wes andersons direct line…

if i’m drawing from perspective.

they said we could fix history if we studied 

it closely, like, what if achilles had on kobe’s?  

… thats a bad example.

we sleep through the night

until a star goes off inside of us

+ then what?

+ then this…

debussy note

spills into kendrick verse

about 3 kings

bound to god

while i elect a favorite phrase

of past days 

which was “times are hard”

… get it?

extending an olive branch

just sounds ugly.

it should be…

whats that shade of pink i’m

trying to think of? 

its like a shell, like a shale… hold on..

no.. no that isn’t it. owell.

i should call this iridescence.

i know hells walls were covered

in good scotch

which says a lot about 

the decorater, like.. 

he probably smokes cigars.

it’s hard being faithful to a 

voice in your head

but some how we figure it out.

the mechanics 

weren’t always as easy

as aligning planets,

not while we expanded.

into thoughts

that came in underhanded.

[ Q + A ]

is this our world?

only we decide.

[ A + Q ]

love is when

we’re both 21 on a day that

can never end,

and we paint the sky 

in different light

sometimes to set the mood,


[ wanderer ]

it’s been a journey…

i’ve always wanted a life worthy of

that statement, 

ironically i’m in a royal suite 

in alexandria pacing.

electricity in my mind racing.

they warned me to pace it,

but thats not gonna get me home

from this vacation.

[oh… fuck.]

in this heaven there’s an open door policy,

just let us know when you need some privacy

some how we’re never short on irony

some how i am everything i was trying to be

i’m everything i was trying to be?

you mean… it was all inside of me?

[ jot jot ]

i hold the keys

i cracked the codes

i snapped the bolts

i break the nuts

… because they called me that

i know how it 

feels when it all goes black…

when it gets tight,

but you don’t snap…

no crack

now i sound like the dare commercials

i always hated

it’s funny… somehow it’s all related

and it always ties together,

there in lies forever.

i wrote this poem…

and you might think it’s

stupid, but… like..

you might not.. i dunno.

it went like this:

there i was

a young king on an old throne

who grew new worlds with no home.

while the lady caesar divided

a spectrum, and cast out the spectre.

once a boy prince who cried by

where he’d died a thousand times

wondering.. how long could he be man?

“let there be light” said a god

that killed christ on a cross

so priests could play in his shadows

as khans carved their darkness

into blood drank off island coasts

of oiled moats.

a ship set sail under current

controlled by persian legions,

to capture

a watch protected only by sceptors 

of question 

and exclamation.

where nothing lays in 

the linear,

and it’s all happening,

in the now.

upon lilliths decent 

i can still feel

americas machines inside of me

grinding my souls mirror

into sands dust

juxtaposed to be

in hopes that we

shed our bones concetration

in an endless oceans reflection,

to be carried away 

by unwaving wings

for until i am not…

i am.

that’s the end of it.

i dunno. 

i was at a museum earlier, 

and i thought of it.

i don’t even think i know

what it means, but it all

sounds very cool.

maybe that’s why i don’t get it.

any time i say something cool

i have to question the origin. 

who would think i could be

possible of all things..

like everyone else.

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