Crackers Fracking barrels
Where family eats
Got diabetic farming gasoline
It’s a franchise made
To give disorders
The Web did not free all men
It’s global gone viral
World wide sky net
Complaining to the same mean machine
They will not listen
Crackers Fracking barrels
Don’t **** where
We sleep
When we close our eyes
What is seen inside
Inner void
Burnt
Black
Stuck on black
Not so easy
Sunday mornings (coming back)
Faceless nations' unreal politics
Scapegoat Real housewives
Mothers once, delovely days
The Parasols in the sun
The Spin-doctoring  of our lives

Crackers Fracking lungs
Deforestation asphyxiations
Marching drums...


World Peace Now !

In my opinion, Filipinos are generally
Jealous
That predisposition to
"not having it"
But I'm the kind of Mistiso soup that warms you up
Inside
Who has treasures beyond
This half heaven / modern hell called Life (in pockets)
Those indentured to possession & Need
It's the chain that keeps it's hooks
In us - butterfly & poetry...

When the music dies
Become anew, a kind of dance
Perhaps from dreams / perchance come true...
From mini Filipino Me,
Late bloom cool
Lotus, my other name
Without shame within
The rain
The ocean
The island sun
Bright eye of fullest Moon,
Tides in-between flesh & twilight
A twin to gold
A Most enboldened fool.

Irish Filipino Me, not fresh off the boat,
But an American akin to Hope.
Half-breed
Irie-Flippin' Me
I am Love's Phoenix
Fasho
"I see
You," She says
I feel you
I say --soon will see
I do
I bleed
A spoke on the Wheel,
Clover Green and Sulu sea.
Hybrid swim
Irish Filipino Me.

Love may make many mistakes, but it’s no mistake to make. Live and learn from every one. That is why and how love grows strong.
It’s true, love is no mistake.

Under Country flag and fried steak tastes

Meaty hooks and ham hocks refined

A morsel of tender cuts fine

Menu for the carnivore splendors

Infused, sauté, marinated in wine…

Innermost yearnings.
Insatiable to quench deep
Pleasures of the parched.

I hear
They say
Our little corner
Barely a Chinatown
Of a city Sin is growing
Is fasting becoming
A restaurant district
Advertised in “Yelp!”
I hear
They say
It’s too saturated
Cliché satires
Ironies of indigents hungry
Too many and not much
Begging for pretty pennies
“Help!” In black sharpie
I hear
The cardboard box is free.
In the dumpster
Behind the restaurant.

(I hear some are looking for work)

The things I hear, here.
"You know what they say..."

Nasty is still nasty
Even if you put it into a pop song, Ms. Jackson.
Nasty is filthy
Not in a good way *****
Nasty gets around
Though for a passing moment in heaven,
Cuz nasty got skills
Is it worth it
Joyride overkill

Ignorance is the silence of doubt
Between ***** calls
Lovers sharing
The down
Dying lives
If only once...

Nasty is catching
Got "stupid"
Not for Cupid doing "the nasty"
It was brief, just to get "off"
A fleeting ******
Getting stupid, not in a good way...

And down goes nasty
Doing it (ad nauseum)
"You know what they say..."
Oh the things I hear
Still here
Looking for love in all the wrong places... Doing it nasty like
Like a nasty wound
It will fester
You know it
**** Nasty
Getting stupid
****** nasty.

The things that I hear.
You know what they say...

Think
Empathize sympathize
Visualize
Illuminate
Imagine

Takes no time at all

With great power comes even greater
Consequence.
Think
Again
No Masterplan
A gift given by hand
At first sight

Takes no time at all
See
How I love you
Beyond

Consequence.

That look upon his face

Like he’s angry toward creation.

[PLOT
          on the green / on Cemetery Row]

A stroll
through Carthage stones.:

Gargoyles in grey gloamings
of Autumns
of Winters
of the remains of days
the done-buried
keep secret in rigor mortis  
kiss

the grave
pushing up daisies, the cherished
our cherubs below tombstones
there lays

In green tarmac flights
On crucifix runways

Mausoleums with eyes
of pyramids and storms
houses the ravens watching ghosts
from above just ants below,
beneath undulating fog-cotton lakes

Upon the soil and worms and
souls
           mausoleums...

As granite angels mime
upward in prayer
waiting in the weight of the lifeless
wake
    white marbled expressions

The consternation
    of devil may care

None for statues or with halos
the captured hearts in boxes,
coffins / the inmates
                                American gothic
Gallows
Caustic the silences, secret speak
Life once stories of beams of light
Such vibrant lives afire
(now mere half paragraphs)
in respite / Despite
unforgiven mires

[On a plot of green
in cemetery row...]

Gargoyles in the mist
these arrested flights

of wish dismissed
of effulgent life

through the spindle of an hourglass
spider-webs of fog

where I share my path
Here the haunted besides (roaming)
a land of quietude
                 futures devoid yet still turning
The cyclic times
The unlearned
The dreaded cold below
[On a plot of green, Cemetery row...]

Rest will happen
but my spirit is a phoenix

Great flocks of birds
Asphodels

Whilst
taking a stroll...
Past plots of green,
        In cemetery row
How such silences scream :
         the fallen :
death's blanket of snow.

[Carnage. &. Stones.]

Spring morning blossom,
floral crown on tranquil pond;
She walks on water.

Empire's war flag:
Blood red sun against winter
White as surrender.

Spaces Unseen

The over here & underneaths

Before wherefore’s past Hereafter

Beings in the In between, those spaces unseen

Over there yet underworld

Dreams where darkness is the queen

Her jewels of stars reign supreme

Beyond above & underneath.

I am she
Who compliments & completes
The dream-lover and wishes
Made when he is asleep.
I am she

Who suffers the most,
Giving birth, cradling ghosts,
As the crone or maiden
(Once and always)
Sister, mother, daughter, wife.

I am she
Who waits through the night.
I am she
Who equals the strength
Of his light.

"See me with your loving eyes,
See me more than the tears I've cried!"

I am she
Who is willing
To go with him to war,
Not as a man but as his equal
(I'm soft, yet hard)

I am she
To whom he'll give his heart
I am the tunnel's bright end
I am where
The family starts,
The ******* which nurse small men.

I am she
The twin,
The Juliet,
The Goddess divine!
I am she
Who deserves the same
in life, and for all time.
(Peace be…)
I am she
I am you
I am her
I am the one besides
And inside
She is I…
The romance in the dress,
Patient Partner to the ends,
Tiny dancer on the floor
I am
The one who loves you
Forever &
Evermore.

“Free Will is easier said than done. Why ask sky?”

CHi-Raq

A Buster is busted.

Figuratively disfigured (speech)

Mayhap way he speak?

Not just slow

Cuz he got flow

Figured out the Hustle

Keeps on and on and on and...

"In this ****** Life—brothas Broke!"

Sweet Swisher Blunts

Swish and stunted swoosh

Jumping hoops

(For who?)


Busters are Busted.

Vigorously. Voraciously. Hot.  

(Or rock-steady Kool)

And the gangs’

Got their gats & silky

Tommy-guns Polishing

(Head like a hole...)

Our whips.

Our babies.

Our Peeps

The War / The Streets

The Word itself, asleep...

Sweet Tea at the ready!

They're thirsty in

CHi-Raq.

A hundred degrees
At Eight in August mornings
Sin city can burn
The weak of will to vices
Make moon and wolves come running.

Mulling about
The muck
The haunts we are hardbound
Foggy fetal leavings by the sea
Right before the night;
The days of purple haze
Of sallow street cars, gas lamp, amped up
Yet dampened and cross,
Loss of desire...
Pop another oxy-hydro-fire.

To be able
To muck about
With inner abandon
the abandonments deep
Numb battlements   / "Hoorah!"
Semper Fi the pain
Only significant
With derivatives
From ******* plantations
Opioid addiction’s contractual binding
Lingering love notes
A vice grip on idle minds...

So many now that prey
But with a side affect of:
Try holding in your ****
for three-plus days

So as to not feel
Not at all
Not even the rage.
We keep anxiously pacing
Clawing at
Nonexistent strings
We puppets with
A Beast inside our cage
Forgiven by preacher men
Proclaiming to hallelujah
Change.

At war with illusionist-freedom,
The good boys fight for still
A country of patriotic pill poppers
Believing in heavenly kingdoms'
Healing
Secret silent pleading
Because nothing takes away
The pain
Like Hydro Oxy foxy pills

Self medicate down wind of will
If unaffected "consult your physician"
He’s at the edge of the stage
A Spearmint rhino making it rain
For Peaches
From patient list of his *******
The business of lust
Feeding the loss of will,
If you still feel lost -- and war heros sure do
Give them nothing but
PTSD & bad dreams
Machine gun migraines, screams
Pop another pill
Jagged jarhead kills
Softly knocks you off your feet
Black is cheap
Smoke out not to feel...

The muck-about days of
Constipated pains
Reader Digesting heavily,
Numbingly unreal.

Casualty of a nameless waste
That’s his deal / what it's like :
Most fecund
A life on the toilet
In wait for relief…
Get off the ***
Can't give a ****

Like this bowel movement
His heart has called it quits
To all this unholy *******!
Veteran
Patriot
Manhood’s defeat
Damnation

Mucking about...

Mystery Machine*
No **** Sherlock cannot solve
Bloodhound’s trail of clues.

Selfies are fake
[pictures]
Without friends
Fish lips press send

“Who dat *****?”
Fake stars are dark
Black holes are
Singularity
Spheres

Selfies dine alone
If
Love is what’s up
Snapshots taken over
Acting
Strangers
Dangerous
Mice some men
Alien artifices
Non intelligence

Selfish faces of death
Shhh
It’s on trend,
Follow the material
Memento of wide webs
“Like ***! “
(B F F F)
Best fake friends forever!
Giggles hehehe!

Pick a profile pic
shoot shots snap!
Chatting with none of You’s

Selfies don’t say much
Not a photograph of true
But all burning men are liars
Walking pyres, deadhead to the end
Fish lips _ press send...

I admonish myself

Must devise a plan
It takes steps to move forward
It is said
One foot in front of the other
And at the end
Of my rope,
All I can muster is hope,
Wish like prayer
The words do nothing.
I can only save myself
And my soul is something
My Goldmine to protect.
But god how I thirst !
For a breath of true,
A life of worth.
At the end of my rope

I admonish myself.

(I hope)

Peacocking with Carnivalesque gyrations in leather
A machismo macho man fearless in boa feathers
Nubian jazz queen’s big Afro up doo, her nails did too.
Alpine foxy ski the white slopes bundled in chinchilla minks.
Charisma as vibrant as its dance, birds of New Guinea...
Hubristic fandango of Saturday night club kids
Eschewing their walk of shame, stained taints of train wrecks...

No other fragrance
but from your kiss, sublime songs
of Love's / Red flower.

Asexual/ by: b. Decatoria

Is it a sin to self gratify,
Until the lower third eye spits glue
All thru the night
Madly rapaciously lascivious you

Almost desperate to find
Even when we were warned
Likely to go blind
Symptoms of a hairy Palm

When one can't come close
To transcend or feel
The ethereal bliss that glows
In the love made real

And there's no one worth it
To waste such sighs
Is it as sinful as unwanted births,
or better to self gratify?

Long line for noodles...
Symbol of emperor's wealth:
A mythical beast.

Addiction and becoming redundant is its own sort of hell.

The upper most tier
within
the undiscovered country
the soul / the mind
where our dreams and chi speak
to the absolute & infinite
One with All
the names of every life we celebrate

It is a place elsewhere,
no place yet everywhere
in the eye, third or thousandth,
or in the center of mortality
where our core will pulse (a heart)
and illuminate
the golden secrets of creation
God's hieroglyphs & alphabets
in the languages of life...

I have seen with my mind's eye
that Golden ceiling
of my soul,
in the deeper halls of beyond
the physical or mortal coil,
and its foreign message on that wall
in perfect gold
clear and enlightening
spoke without a sound nor
loss in translation
with heavy earthling tongues
My evidence and proof
there is more beyond / still yet
to kingdom come...

Let us go for a swim upon
the surface of the sun...

*(For in the Light, we all are One)

Are you happy yet?
The question escapes
As yellow as the ****
From ***** to toilet
Flushing it down,
To where it will be forgot
Have no need to be reminded
How unhappy loneliness gets
Are you not ...
(Just okay, alright, fine
Work sleep **** ****
Work **** sleep —die.)

****-Ring (acrostic)



C inch the boys in their place,

O bjectified / at attention,  indecent proposition (pole position)

C rows those proud chicken hawks loudly

K illng the blood-flow - frozen still:

R idgid hoses, denying it any

I rrigation or relief

N either giving it room to breathe

G orged on ***,  in a pulsating noose...

Such dark dark things that men believe
And given gifts from Heaven
Still suffering in prayers to be set free
The prisons of our realities
With these dark things that men believe
Given daily gifts he can't bother to see
The Agonies of Me Me Me
Chasing shadows in the dark
Things of want, heavy with needy
To be pleased (in pleasures)
Oh dark thing is Man's belief.
Good grief, Charlie Brown.

I hear your stress from down the hall
Not yet having let go
Of the static / hard day's work
Your voice sizzles
Like rain on sidewalks
I hear you
"Did you set the alarm
for the morning?!"

"Of course I will!"
Unfolding with purposeful hands
Your side of the California
King
Fluffing your pillows
Soft intentions trying to still you
From here

Tomorrow breaks with a panic
As dust on all the old clocks
Settles like snow
from the cold of such stillness.

Forgot to set the alarm
And to wake with you
(In you)

That morning

When did I begin
To forget?

how to love the world
you left
behind
me...
Afore
Afire.

The cunundrum
That is human
Chaos
Mindless
Self conflicted, obese with
Doubt
And neediness
The Dysfunctional don't know
It's own self-destruction
The malware of
Soul.

Identity crises
Kings of wants and cave men's
Mail order Prizes, their distant cry
For crowns or kirchiefs.

Power conquers power
Peace conquers ivory towers
What's not fair
Is this weather,
We leporine lover's of
Beloved
Perfect day for a picnic
How golden unbeholdened
By other
And Things
Pull strings another stage
What is the sky to the bird
A cage
Like love's utter vastness
The space between our hugs
Wish you peace &
Serenity
Strings must tug...

Felonious/ Felecities
The cunundrum of chaos,
Who's excuse is human.
Luv then shrugs.

The Light is Everlasting

We are connected to the Life

That skeins in our veins

The beating heart

The thinking brain

A soul -mind so bright

In Love singing Alive

Like electricity flabbergasted

By love's brilliance

Shocked back into life

The heart's Pygmalion...

Fingers through the universe

Sunbathing

Feeling the warmth

Of truth.

**** strap
Leather
**** ring

Shaved baskets
Trimmed hedges
Or hairless smooth

Quiet abeyance
Pliant without a clue
Young and tight

Taint and sphincters
Need not speak
**** bleached...

Houseboys best asset?
Keep being kept
And the mansion
***** and span

Poolside, wear your youth
A golden tan...
Poor boy house toy,

Don your dignity well...
Naked. Summer. House
Boy.

The wind is howling again outside, clearing the early evening sky of clouds,
(as the curtains open...)
Exposing a drowsy eye of Crescent Moon,
A bright chesire smile on the backdrop of colbalt blue.

It's early yet for Stars, deepening to navy coal dark, a bleeding of midnight and ebony, darkness like an invisible cloak
Showing more of the heavens in the darkest of nights. And the later I stay to stargaze, upon the face so infinite her beauty--a universe enlightening in Love,
Brightening All of the Above.

The winds' howls lessen as though looking up with mine eyes wide with awe.
My very being astounded, to even have this moment to witness be--i'm dumbfounded
Overcome with such Peace.
The Love of God in me .

Most alcoholics
who drown in their own thirst, drink
because “empty" hurts.

HULLABALOO (acrostic)


Hectic happenings—snow days or heat waves

Under flashing lights, paparazzo pomp & circumstance.

Line dancing Hollywood hookers pleading the fifth on Vine.

Lights blinging signs, crowds, streamers loud attention

A ceremonious flock of white doves at red wedding

Boisterous unions picket signs, cons mob meddling

A scaturient family of the bride throwing rice

Loads of breeders drunk scrubs ****** hunting.

Open season for “the business” howling, rug munching.

Oral congratulations, fussing over gushing country bumpkins.

Tattoo of a tear.
****** in a low Beamer,
cool-kissing his Glock.

Opening of gifts,
All the warmth : the welcome smiles,
Where our hearts reside.

Change is our Nature
Natures can Change
Nurture Change by
Being Good Natured.

(Being Good to Nature).

No Fear in it’s meat,
Tastes like Tyrannosaur-Rex.
Best Kentucky Fried.

So, instead of words,
Lovebirds should try simple
Silent Adoration.

In the wisdom of strangers, and kindness of others,
It makes the world
and Life’s harsh realities
more bearable
How doth one worship
but with Beloved...?

HOMILY


After the preaching’s
Done-finished
Picking at the scabs
Of our guilt,
At week's end / day of rest;
Just when we almost had it
Bygone / Forgotten
From our minds
           It's a kinder kin to amnesia
A softer fog of fugue,
A healing art of our brain farts,
Not soaking in shame's
Diminishment,
Or stewing in self-helps.
"Deliver us!"      (bow down genuflect)

But then again
Here we are together to gather
Uncomplainingly
Complacently listening
Absorbing every lash
Of the metaphorical whip,
To be guided back to good
Such sermons for the flawed
humans that we know
We are -- unworthy...
But willingly we suffer
The word.
Oh how to be just like
The lamb...

So now, afterwards, when we have been
Emotionally & verbally punctured
Full of hollow
We are holes unworthy
Of being
Made whole...
Or so, we've been told
"It is written."

Now then let us meet for
homily
After King James harangues us
His version of fellowship,
Let us have verbal
******* with the word.
(Begotten?)
Perhaps over supping
Or during beer & NFL
Or some blood
Sport
Non-emasculating,
Reminding us how
Weekends roar
And Life is
Worth more
Than the inner wars
We are ourselves
Fighting.

After the sermon,  
Let's have true verbal
*******...
(Without be-getting a shred
Of guilt).

Mr. Alzheimers,
Old man on park bench, stares off
Into the distance.

What doesn't **** you EMOTIONALLY makes you stronger, so it's said.

RED HOT RELIGION

He has this . . . Hunger like
Hurricane Hips interpreting endangered
wanton meanings of lustful touch
Starving eyes wanting

He has this . . Culpable shame
that’s  relative to the Red-Hot Religions
of sailors, muscled maritimes
showers of spit and ****
storms of guy-gravy
and then the little girl inside,
that darling damnation,
leaves him to those parched eyes

The panther's eager lips
that somehow rescues him sexually
With cold reptilian offerings
spires and skies which takes him home

away & aware he’s one of them:
chestnuts from china
The Buffalo’s bride
Lost in one salted heavenly hell

He has that . . . Craving,
A ***** for Jackal-harsh joys
but the lipstick love of sinful men
like magnets to his mad blindness
its ***** and biohazard truths
Still resounds in the black poetry
A stain of empty pews

Hearts
designed by desires over
Sins & desperations both
an epic dirge, some think
which will later play in a temple
That will sink darkly, singing
a Red-Hot  requiem reckoning

for all who are
Drowning in lust
and the god-awful truth
Of being lost  
Never having even begun
To know love
Not cross…

City.

Beach city by the cool sea
not so easy city
not too busy, too ******, or greasy city

to take off
your shirt
to feel the breezy city.
Where I am
curiously lost in,
excitably exploring eagerly
Asphalt-hard city  
different from my boyhood memory,

It’s not so scary-big a city,
Was a great place to grow-up
open roads for bike rides
on my schwinn, best buds

A safe suburban city
By the sea,
A successfully savvy
sophisticated city
evolved from understanding
Historically
Downtowns Pity
Homeless and such
O’er border walls, while
Chaps are diggy
In the Navy city,

A city of girls who can be
as manly and boys are as
pretty, gritty
city of individuality
like a quirky
cousin, *****,
A brotha's niece
with Cali.-valley speak! city.

There’s so much i want to see,
learn and believe in
this lush green city,
i am a long lost twin city
just a baby,
friendly city,
******* your full *****
city

care for me daily,
wish me luck a lotto city,
even in my muck and ****** ditties,
unconditionally cradling me
with love
this LEGO city
In crisp morning fog,
Californicationer Tour
Sea world and the Zoo,
Old town wanderlust  (balboa too)
Where Carmen’s on the trolley...
It’s San Diego by the sea,

I Heart you
City
in my blood,
this city by the beach
This city
that I love...

Death is the word that strikes fear in the hearts of men,
Some lose sight in such loss.
Would it be easier to think of it as a door or a box,
Shall we wrap in ribbons like a
Gift?