Some men have a recipe-
It is like a combination
That makes up their ideal
Which says she is gorgeous.
Such things they may itemize;
A face that is angelic,
With eyes that are lustrous          
Full lips of pure seduction,
A voice that is musical,
And hair that falls pleasingly,
It is a child's attitude
That says things make somebody.
I need no such formula
For in you I discovered
A heart that was beautiful;
Which the made me realize
That your face is radiant,
Your eyes are dark mystery,
Your voice is a symphony,
Your hair flows down gracefully,
And your lips are perfection.
I found your heart wonderful
And then I found everything
That a man could desire.

My body is a perfect storm
With thunder thighs and hurricane hips
That move perfectly with the motion of your waist
Crashing waves above me
Your skin is my sea
Your face is my gloomy sky.

My nature is a perfect storm
As I cannot control the bits within me
Of shattered glass that long to be part of the typhoon
That embeds debris within my heart
Within my mind
Within my strength
Strength that can now equate to a tattered piece of rope
Withered away by pressure and force.

My conscience is a perfect storm
Part of me longs to be "good"
Conform to standards set for me by a holy book
Like virginity structured to fit the ideals of primogeniture
Ideals meant to itemize a woman for her only resource
So the other part, defined as Lucifer
Desires to seek your face, oh lover
Desires to know all of you
I never can tell if this is making love
Or meaningless, indiscriminate ***
Is *** ever truly meaningless?

My essence is a perfect storm.
For all I long to do is
Float into a fleeting thunder
Will you know if I am faking
These deep tornado breaths?
Will you know if I am pretending
These moaning winds in my mouth?
Then I can go out with these winds
For no one knows what to make of it
As the weather swallows me whole.

86 years 55 days
The website told me
This is how long
I can expect to exist

I am a pauper
Among the wealth of the Universe
Handed a dollar of existence

55 years 46 days
The website told me
Is how much
I have left

8 hours per day
40 hours per week
2,080 hours per year
I sell my existence
Exchange it really
For American currency

16 years 119 days
My dollar is taxed by sleep
And I forget that bit of existence

Let’s itemize my spending
So we can make a proper budget

I’ll spend 6.39% of my dollar worrying about pointless ****
4% going to and from the place I sell myself
2.11% envying
1.98% hating
1.21% pouting
Or yelling at the dog
0.99% generally getting worked up about nothing
0.63% filling out forms and paying bills and whatever
0.37% talking about the weather
0.13% riding in elevators
Though this can sometimes be bundled with weather
For nice discount

Oh, what else?

How about the times preening in the mirror
Or wondering if my shirt is untucked
Or if people can tell I just masturbated?
God only knows the time spent
Attempting the rock hard, rippling abs of my dreams
And waiting in line
Cursing the old lady paying with a check
And a dozen coupons

What I’m saying
Really
Is how much of time’s currency needs to be spent
Walking, running, skipping, jumping and stomping in a circle?
Crowing angrily about how much I don’t care for this
Or for that
About what and who are wrong with America
With television
With music
With kids these days
Moaning about the left and the right
About the ******* Imperial measurement system
About crying babies on airplanes
And people who think a billboard threatening eternal torture
Is God’s will

How long
Really
Before I realize
Who, in the ****, gives
A running, skipping, jumping ****
And two *****
In change
That caring about that ****
Is for suckers
Who spend their lives
On get happy quick schemes
And opinions you can set your watch to
Solid citizens
Who get their money’s worth
Out of their vocal cords

When
When
When
Will I see the question
Instead of being put to the question
And the question is and always will be this:
When did I exist with you?
How many hours will I put away
For a rainy day
Walking, running, skipping, jumping and stomping in puddles with you?
When did I play and touch and love and kiss and feel
You?
What was my time spent
Being
Existing
Living
With you?

When it’s all said
When it’s all done
And I look at the blackness
With my pockets pulled inside out
Shrugging my shoulders
And falling to my knees
How much
Of this precious little currency
Will I have spent
On you?
And how much
Will I have squandered?

How much time will I have spent working
And squawking about the thisses and the thats
About the hims and the hers
About usses and thems
Cowering
A trembling little animal
Clawing for scraps at shadows
Hording dust and mold
All the while
Hurling solid gold
To the dark

When that’s it
And this is the end
What can be more to my life
To my existence
Than you?

one final cup of chamomile tea then to bed,
to bed, to lie drenched in sweat.
until the heat breaks
and the cool change sneaks on through.
one last sip to calm my mind.

so i can prepare
to itemize,
those **** pesky sheep.
i know them all by name now,

by dawn, i will know where they are going on their annual holidays.

rinse the cup and go to bed,
at least,
my foolish shepardess, my restless, droving, roving mind.
you will give you head,
a place to rest,
while you go on,
this  wooly,
sheep finding fact fest.

Work and pay taxes get lucky and might make millionaire caches if you step on enough of the masses
A public school fairytale in other words a classic

A degree only guarantees an inquiry
Into the job market not the key to a home as history taught it
We need an audit on who making the real profit, cause the the deposit is getting microscopic
While Garfield’s constantly getting dividends, I’m barely making ends, so when does the dream begin?

Got clips telling me to keep “grindin”
The more you hustle, the more you’ll be buyin
Skip the ad, back to the methodology on how to win at poverty when your effort considered second round, should have gone lottery


Itemize your body for somebody’s hobby, you can’t frown in a five-star lobby
Orchestrate the take from another families plate but when I bankroll too great
the feds wanna play Drake like the family matters to them outside election dates

Turn my life into a stalker dream, and access me via a stream cause I need more green
Even with the increase, the pain doesn’t cease now I’m looking for a new release
Fill the void in my account with mental health taking the mound, at full count
I can’t miss or end up on a “Where are they now?” playlist

I am the alien seeking terrestrial understanding
astrobiologically, electromagnetically,
electroencephalographic quinquagintatrecentilliardths
I do not fully itemize, agglomerate homogeneously:
anthropomorphisms, overspeculativeness,
antiestablishmentarians, hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia
I am you

Tonight, in the black light of a slight hope

Tonight, in the black light of a slight hope
With my chalk I’ll describe you:
I’ll begin with your mouth
Beaded with gold, as tasteful
As sponge finger. I’d want to
Softly touch you.
I’d kiss your mouth
So languorous and red.

Two rubies in the air of tonight
Shining with mischievous liberty
My fingers gently move up
Your sight seeks me, sometimes flees
They are always within a reach
But statuesque, you count on me
To be, on the inside, Prometheus
For you know that your dear heart matters.

Tonight, in dark of a quixotic manor
And of that gasp of yours
When I hold you
Drawn by the quill your power
Is giving birth to, mirage, o male mage
And under my ink I possess
The complexion of your skin, your coloring
I hold your slumbering head.

I’d continue with your hips
That I’d slightly, in time, skim
Flower of a new spring
In the naked, wet and white warmth
Of your body. All of a sudden, you’d shout
Panting, you’d feel on the small of your back
The lingering stopping of my chalk
On you, fluttering.

The line is rushed
Because under your sighs I yield
A daring dove
I am for you, I hungry for you.

In a stream-like momentum
I plunge into you willing
To grab you, to know you’re my hope
In the silent and black night…

And the tongue of your flesh
Stains the drawing because your breast
Willing to itemize my drawing
Sketches you with a light-hearted air!

You are then
On this canvas
My tender gold
My long star

Art of a love
Which means much more
Oh so much more
Than what words convey!

Written on October 8, 2015. Translated in February 2016.

MOMENTS AND MEMORIES

If you were able to itemize every experience you ever had in your lifetime, the list would be virtually endless. But when you just reflect on your life, those moments, the special moments, might be only a few. Those you fell in love with;  the time, if once, your last-second shot that won the game;  a line or two you wrote that was so eloquent, your teacher praised you, and so on. In prep school, we all were required to read and study the English romantic poets:  Blake, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Keats, Byron, Shelly. But we were not required to read all their poems, but study only a few by each. If you lived, let's say, 80 years, that would mean you lived almost 30,000 days. How many of those days do you think you could remember? My guess:  only a few. More moments we could remember than days. They are what our lives add up to:  moments and memories. Not days, nor weeks, nor months, nor years.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

In hiding that women are locked outside of california's
democracy we are not the same
Present has no further tense to be meaningful is to be regarded
as dis-wanted
The past tensing of crime upon a woman’s singular right to
pass…….
This is a bearing which cannot be prevented from demand of
answer
As to why and whom has allowed this to transpire
Concern and Certainty are appointed as law during these
transgressions
Certainty does not to exist as fault is currently attempting to be
absolved
There is no legal means for this function in the universe
Physics commands the mortal physique and as such we must
itemize a budget
From the parameters of physics not to accost the day
Sunlight provides all manners of energy on earth
No hearing is need to destroy the present
Time has lapsed for celebration
The enmity clause is called for in euphemistic disregard of
payment
Payment for services rendered
Tax has been liened farther than constitution can hold
The back pay of motel keys is due forthwith in thousand oaks
california
To private citizens who have endured unendable slander and
liable upon there

It seems a long life of learning
Leaves in broken building trees
And desire to be loving
Won't find home or time in doubted brilliance
Fear full as rejection
Smitten opposite ends of spent
Wrong touched many mourns ago

The ponder of new wells inking
The suffering and empty waste

That sadness unhealthy and ending this letter
Without sorrow

I fought against lausd and cfl aio union contracts this year
Surprising versions of homekey frauds
And mis aligned clerical errors costing lives

Most don't itemize correction officer as compliance officer priority in
No lost leaves in these streets

If they aren't lost in clerical errors then the safety net of funding is already attached to that system

It's hear, in the streets where waitings gamesmanship causes direct interaction of intent'd crime as abuse and corruption in titling one and owning you redemption acts of weakness and ignorance

3004 characters left
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Phone at 2% daybed is mine

In hiding that women are locked outside of california's democracy we are not the same
Present has no further tense to be meaningful is to be regarded as dis-wanted
The past tensing of crime upon a woman’s singular right to pass…….
This is a bearing which cannot be prevented from demand of answer
As to why and whom has allowed this to transpire

Concern and Certainty are appointed as law during these transgressions
Certainty does not to exist as fault is currently attempting to be absolved
There is no legal means for this function in the universe
Physics commands the mortal physique and as such we must itemize a budget
From the parameters of physics not to accost the day
Sunlight provides all manners of energy on earth
No hearing is need to destroy the present
Time has lapsed for celebration
The enmity clause is called for in euphemistic disregard of payment
Payment for services rendered
Tax has been liened farther than constitution can hold
The back pay of motel keys is due forthwith  in thousand oaks california
To private citizens who have endured unendable slander and liable upon there house

house
#rupikaur #saulwilliams #taylorswift #kendricklamar #kendalljenner #repbrownley #mikeytaylor #cagovernor #aoc #sashagrey