Washington, Forest park

Nature fogged hue descends thickly in this place\Leaving one realizing their insignificance in the grand scheme of their universe It is a sense of connection to the womb that bore you, earths womb
The trees ascend like towering giants, and you feel their place has been around forever, in the before-time, beyond-time
In spite of their girth the wind easily sways them like bowling pins
And they quiver and gradually aceed to winter's dominance, surrender their leaves, a sacrifice to appease angered gods
Then they rest in a slopping, hilly cradle Washington, forest park kissing, yes for they are but same tacks of land, persevered from white society as if a giant hand had seized and exalted them out of harms way
Unspoiled this land, magnificently stretching, the breadth beyond imagination and creation
What sanctity the ancients dwellers had to muse upon as they freely roamed
And now in present, the place for uninterrupted peace when I get high

Dios de los muertos

For you I yearn
All these thoughts of you I burn written down
So nothing but ashes scattering is found
But now that you're free I honor thee
Dios de los muertos

Be-gun

The dove of peace took flight
With the marksman looking down their sight
Fly, Fly! Take flight!
Its faithful wings never skip a beat
Not an easy feat
A finger tightens on the trigger, the dove in the cross-hairs of the scope
Is there any hope?
Peace lets out a final cry
Crumples to the ground and dies
Thanks to the breezy weather
There drifts a solitary feather
All that is left
By no accident it drifts straight to the harbinger of death
So touched by its message are they, they swear to never hurt anyone again and dismantle their gun
Peace anew has begun

You can kill the revolutionary but never the revolution
-Fred Hampton, my brother from another mother brutally gunned down by the pigs as he lay asleep

Continue on

If the human race perished from the face of this earth
we've forgotten how to cherish
Life would continue on
The mockingbird would still sing its song
Birds would flutter here and there gather materials to build its nest
Ants would scurry about gathering to build its nest
Ants would scurry about collecting food without a moments rest
(at the queens behest)
Trees would again dominate the skies
and winged creatures that fly
The grass would grow and grow without fear of anyone who mows
The land would be reclaimed
by things wild, not tamed
And the earth would forget the footprints on its back (long blow away) we took
And the many musings found in books
And life would go on

Hollow

A scarecrow
Stuffing stolen by thieving crows
We are hollow, we are hollow
The pain reminded that at least was still alive
But now that's gone
And now all there is aching, longing
For anything
Someone has stolen my soul
and left this lonely vessel drifting on the high seas
Nothing left of me but tumbleweed
Rolling away to a better plane
I just couldn't fly free from the chains society bound my body with
Not drugs nor heaven could fill the hole in this bleeding heart
When being you is wrong and you know you don't belong
What else matters? what is left but for me to end my suffering
We are hollow, We are hollow

Gulf oil spill

The problem isn't bp you ore me its greed
Seeing all those innocent birds covered in oil
causes my blood to boil
Their just birds
How are they supposed to speak up without words
All the tar and the pollution from cars should be barred
From nature we've strayed
Go back!
Go back to the earth from which you were birthed
If we just stopped violating the earth with drills
There'd be no oil spills

Heart beating with love

The government may give me nowhere to sleep except on the streets
scrounging in garbage cans for food
With only a doorway to lie down in and nothing to warm me
But you will never stop my struggle to develop compassion
or my fight to free all of us
Throw me in the gloom of a prison cell
Take what little I have
Remove all my blood ties
Burn all my poetry about my struggle for freedom
You may Beat me but you will never stop my heart from beating with love
Isolate me from my friends
Mouth dripping lies about ME
Throw me in the chasm of gloom and despair
But you will only hear the revolutions echo
Strip me of ever shred of dignity remove my clothing
But you will never break my spirit
I may fall to my knees for a time weary of struggle
But I will inevitably rise again
You may ask why we doggedly persist
Even when they flog us in the streets like dogs
Why?
Because we'd rather die young for a noble cause knowing we are chained
Than live an eternity as a slave who has never heard the word freedom
An when the day comes when, as one people, we journey into the glorious enlightenment of the sun
And we look back on all the hard fought battles won to reach this place
and remember fondly all the revolutionaries who unselfishly sacrificed their life for an idea bigger then them, then all of us
They our are family through ties deeper, stronger than blood
We will dig in our heels and not give the oppressor an inch of ground
Deep in our heart we do believe that we shall overcome someday

White human's disease

Technology is the white humans disease as much as English is the devils tongue
For much of human history we've been ridden with natural ailments
The bubonic and the black plague may have taken many
But no more for the man made illness is destroying the world
An eyesore on on the face of the earth
Every race now is infested with the soul stealing scourge
And we the rats who skulk about in filth carrying the addiction everywhere they go
Turning majestic forests into concrete jungles
Where lofty trees towered and bird built their nest singing with joy as they worked now the tower of Babel rises as a tribute to our greed
Every time we find life around us we replace it with death
2 million Koreans ensnared in the net of the internet
I couldn't believe my ears when I heard of a couple's baby dying why they coddled its virtual replacement
If they say the revolution will not be televised the scourge is sure to be
Why a human turned zombie blankly gazes at the screen
Today I saw a hundred people talking on facebook
But they will never see the tears streaming down a person face
People use cell phones to try and find a friend
But all they find is brain cancer in the end
For technology the white humans disease
has become everyones disease

Everywhere I Turn

Death is everywhere I turn, under every rock and berm
AN all consuming fire
Greedily devouring the strongest of strong
Nothing left of this weary imperfect vessel
And lo, all is but ashes
To be swept away by a thieving wind
Like chaff on the threshing floor
Life is naught but a curse
Better to die young suffer less
Than regret the day of birth
My soul summoned hence
But not even death can cause such a restless soul
To be still and rest
Tis doomed to ne'er find peace
Wandering to and fro
For there was never was a place I was ever made to feel at home

Alive

Don't mark my grave when I die
Have no tears to cry
I am not to be found in any one place
I occupy every living space
I am every verse that to your heart sings
With every bird taking wing
Remember me in every laughing brook
And every sacred breath took
As long as my work is not forgotten, I am never gone
For my spirit lives on
Find me in every wind that rustles the trees
Don't ever feel sorry for me, for I am FREE
One last piece of advice I give
Don't be afraid to die
Be afraid of not having felt alive!

Hiroshima and Nagasaki

Falling fire rains
on this beautiful city




Nothing left but hope

The blank space represents the empty page that will never be filled, for all the innocent poets and dreamers murdered who thoughts we only have hallow echoes, of the blankness left of minds gone

Portland

This is a poem about Portland, born of a troubled mind
A place where junkies wait outside public bathrooms to get a shot at shooting up, vain attempt to fin a vein
Homeless people are spread out on the streets like butter
Portland is a place where bread butter are just around the corner
Feeds dot the landscape and people line up, like shoppers in as supermarket awaiting the latest discount
bums Carts are piled high with various goods and kept close at hand
Spangers looking to score pot in Potland clash with yuppies seated outside cafes, like junkies seeking their next fix
Zoobombers stand tall among the bike pile of 16 inch bikes, ready to ride the next hill
Portland's a place where one is free to work on zines at the IPRC, sell them at reading frenzy and dream of bigger things,of souls and guts poured out for all the world to see
Portland is a place where I meditate observe and muse upon life in forests of towering firs
And here is what I see all written down and only awaiting your eyes in this, the place of my birth
Portland

Blueberries

I remember my first question about plants, A question that taught me about life
It was the mysterious season in between fall and spring, a season where the plants have not yet unfolded but ready themselves for they know that time is soon
the days become warm and wet but the night is yet cool
standing in my mother's garden in the morn hours, wind dusk has yet not fled, leaving the stage set for dawn to do its merry dance
my mother was hard at work one morning with the blueberry bushes
I was horrified at the sights that greeted my eyes in the Eden of my youth
my mother's plucking the budding flowers of the new yearling plants
"why you killing them", I wailed, watching each one drift down to the ground like a fallen angel, picturing each luscious berry that would never reach my mouth
but the lesson i learned was that the if the tree does not focus on its roots for the first couple years of its life, it will never grow roots and be strong and will instead wither and die, so too with people,
if we never put down roots when we are young, how can we ever expect our words to bear fruit.

Jack Collins

Is there anyone sad to see you die?
Friends with tears to cry?
It seems wrong
the pigs felt you didn't belong
Another homeless person, one of us
GONE
Now the city's singing the same old song
Now that you're gone
Now that you're gone
Will anyone change
Or will the same fingers be pointing the blame

What was done to me

To write is to live
To live is to write
To need to write is my curse
Dysgraphia is to feel physical pain in addition to the emotional poets experience
To truly be the suffering artist
"What was done to me created me" (v for vendetta)
Out of the greatest ugliness springs the most rampant beauty
They tried to crush me but only caused me to rebuild
They tried to crush me but only caused me to rebuild
They tried to crush me like a viper underfoot for my truths were poisonous to them
Each time I strengthened my resolve
I began to believe
Until the foundation of my belief was powerful, so strong it was uncrushable
Never be in to much of a hurry to help those suffering, instead always be in a hurry to help

Pebbles

Skipping pebbles from river beds
Carefully choosing the amoothest flattest ones
Bouncing to and fro not knowing where they go
Creating resounding echoes of themself
Like so many people

Presidents day

Capitalist should be flying their flag at half mast
Can't they understand their system cannot last
The man on the hill loves to kill
Blames it on divine will
Fill all the people young and old with pills
Then present them with the bill
But thje problem lies not in our head
But on being a slave till the day we're dead
Everyone's assigned a number and sex from the day of birth
It goes to show how little were really worth
Can't they understand "I'm not a number I'm a free human"
Today is presidents day
A reminder to all if you don't agree with the american way
Uncle Sam will blow you away

Stoner ditty

The world in its confining insanity
Only creates strife and calamity
I need to escape for this democracy
Free country is just another word for hypocrisy
Oh give some nicotine and caffeine before I blow your brains out
The capitalist and their angry shouts
Illegalizing plants and looking down on us for being stoners
And here comes the sac brought by a marijuana donor
Rollin the fat blunt, the weed is making me freed
I realize it don’t matter what color yo are every race bleeds
Yuppies don’ now what’s goin on
Called in the pigs with their batons
And now its a race between me and the corrupt law
They’ll never understand that in the system lies the flawe
Run into the grocery store puts some munchies down my pants, they’ll never check there
Its not like massive corporations care
Then go grab da homies and kidnap their bong
Man this chron is strong
And now I understand the need for peace love and weed
Let’s make it a worldwide creed
Thanks to my medicine I’m no longer wigging out
Far out!
Wake up in the morning and do it all again
Its marijuana and me that prospers in the end

Cedars

Snow falling on cedars
Tree limbs groan bend and break under heavy loads
Cascading flurries blanket the ground beneath them
Covering cedars in coats alabaster as sheep's wool
Till spring thaw when they're evergreen again

Depressing Statistics

On the internet last night, I read that people of my orientation (asexuals)are far more likely to be clinically depressed than people of other oreintations. 33.57%! That's about one in three of us. Talk about abnormally high. That the same number of queers that depressed too. One in three! Jeez! Something needs to be done about this,NOW. I'm thinking education, maybe in schools to students. I can just picture the angry parents. (What are you teaching our kids?! To be immoral freaks!!!) I'd love to see the day when being yourself is cool. Fuck society! Who needs to be accepted by this stupid biased empire anyway! Although it would be nice to Gender Idenity Disorder removed from the dsm. It's causing people to need therapy. (yes, even when I'm being completely serious I still have throw in a joke, it's my coping mechanisim) I don't think I'll be understood in my lifetime. At the very least, even if you don't get it, I'm just asking to be respected. Is that too much to ask? Yes I suppose it is. Sigh :(

Dream on!

The dream is me, the dream is you
It embraced what was true
Dr. King laid his life to demonstrate that only peace and love triumph over greed and hate
He fought so humanity would one day be free from this stifling insanity
Died for a dream, died young
no more negro spirituals to be sung
So long as Dr. K is not forgotten he is not gone
In his memory we dream on
So one day we too, shall join hands and sing
Deep in my heart I do believe we have overcome!

Revelation

There will be no one to dig our graves
If we blow each other away
The holy land hasn't run this red with blood since Jesus and his martyrs
Another rocket launched in the Gaza Strip
No one gives a rip
You say you believe in redemption, but what if there's no one left to redeem?
Nothing anymore is what seem
No more tears left to cry
My faith long ago grew cold and died
Another one won't be supplied as long as China continues to silence its people
The hole's being dug deeper and deeper
The whole world's jumping in
You can't point out where you are on a map
But finding the nearest McDonald's a snap
If the human race is erased
Nothing will be left but a black hole in space
Pray to the Virgin Mother for forgiveness day after day
But hate your brother anyway
The truth will set you free
But only if you aren't blinded by the lies you see
Pray to the i-pod god for shiny new toys
Why do you refuse to see it's all a ploy?
Don't allow the government to break you
Or ignorance to take you
If only you fanatics understood there's no honor in martyrdom or death
Maybe you'd save your breath
The revelation can't be staved by burying the masses in unmarked graves
If we just peacefully rose against the government it would fall
They can't stop us all
You are not fit to live if you have nothing you'd be willing to die for-Dr. King

Flower

withered petals drop and fall
one whose beauty calls
its scent wafts into nostrils with remembrance of home
and its recollection fills so many dreamers dreams
shall cause the heart to leap no more
thorns who stinging prick caused much vexation
shall vex no more
bareheaded, humbled by a hoary frost
awaiting its fate in the winter of its years
awaiting Death
in all its finality
until springs rays awaken

Darkness

They bathe their streets in light
For they are afraid of the secrets of the shadows
And the darkness that clings to them