tired 2

i deleted my first post on this subject.

im just so tired of being pulled and i Just want to Die.

and this makes me very sad.

Again?

burning
its fucking
3 am
and im sweating
burning up
i should turn on the
AC
but i can have
another
$84.65 bill
i drink to much
Delirum Tremens
Troublette
La Fin du Monde
they are expensive
and i wont even
get into
my Anime
Habbit

here in this bed
alone
thinking
sweating
always the same

the problem is
i dont think
its the
heat.

Malboro Blend No.27's

What’s the point?
It’s just another
Empty
Instant message
From across the globe
It just hurts me
More
Each time.

####.
There I said it.
You’re a
A name
Tattooed on my
Soul
But this is
Empty
With-out blood.
Spirit
Anima

At times you made this
Frankenstein
Feel alive

Today I thought
About your hands
Small, soft,
Yet unrefined.
Nails like a little girl
And how they
Touched me
Caressed me
Held me
Made me feel
Loved
Because of who I was.

But that changed
I became
Not good enough
For you
I didn’t have
Enough money
Wasn’t fit enough
I didn’t mind miami

Do you know
How many
Better girls
Desired your
Place on my heart
I can name three

But it’s ok
Angel**
I’m
Still me
An evil bastard
Confused as ever
I sill only cause
Pain to them
I always was the best.
For them.

And your not
Special
Neither am I
And neither are they
We’re all just
Monkeys
Looking to be loved
On our terms

This is still
Plastic death land
We’re all fake
Waxed, tanned, toned, implanted
And no one cares
It all tastes the same
Welcome to the land of Pinocchio
“There are no strings on me”
Just golden strands on my heart
At least I didn’t go buy cigarettes.

**Angles: if you remember have no soul hence no humanity and our existiance on this plane to them would be temporary so if they kill us they are doing us a favor. removing us from pain. in other words its BS. Angles can be evil and pain can cause creation and beauty.

Alone at night? (beta)

I see it every night
The clock on the VCR
Glowing orange
12:35
Thinking again
Feeling odd
Cant sleep
I remember
Che’s eyes
How many times have I seen them?
Looking at me
Like a mirror
I see it
Passion for change,
Anger
Lust
Hunger

I can feel it again
It’s been so long
The ether is flowing again
My mind races
Thinking of the moon
Its craters
It’s light
It’s power
It’s magic
The ether flowing
Through me again

Why?
Why does my hearty race tonight
Can’t I be at peace?
Why can’t I take that Journey
Why can’t I ride that SV-650
To New Orleans
New York
Ride
Away from everything that’s bothering me
Just ride
To Argentina
Go back to Palermo
Where I feel at home
Feel the cold rain hit my face
On the open road
Feel someone’s arms around me
Have my aunt kiss me hello
Have family again
This ether flows again
And I can’t follow
Why can’t I have my life
Returned to me
Why can’t I be loved
Why must I feel this ether
I am in tuned with the earth
And not go anywhere

Cause I’m stopping myself?
Cause I don’t want to go?

Because
Here is where I need to change the world
Here is where the ether flows to me
Yet here is where I find no rest
I the wicked
All I’ve done is hurt
I’ve hurt my loved ones
My friends
I’ve even you,
I
With my words, insecurities, passions
Not love

But I’ve never hurt you Che
Even though
You’re dead
Like me
You’re alive and free
Cause you
You took that journey
Followed the ether
To history
Where your eyes burn into history
And here I stay
Waiting
For the next day
Maybe ill run
Never come back
And
Maybe ill change the world
Be my guide.
Be my Virgil through this hell.
(june 2k4)

rose

When did it happen
The poetry thing for me
When I wrote
“nothing’
I was so young
So sad,
So alone
So empty
I was
Nothing
back then in the 90’s

Back then
I wrote how I felt
I still do
But now I’m older
Greyer
Leaner
Meaner
Angrier
Verbose
Emptier
Sadder
alone again

But now I have the history
The good times
Bad times
Love and loss
And now I have the
Words
That I was missing those
Years ago…
Fuck you

God
I am human
I feel art
I will write
I will one day
Be able to write the one
Poem
I truly wish
To write
A kiss.

by pablo neruda from the unburied woman of paita

Portrait

who Lived? who was living? who was loving?

Damn spanish spider webs!

During the night, the blaze of equatorial eyes,
your heart burning in the vast emptiness,
and so your mouth was mistaken for the dawn.

Manuela, radiant coal and water, column
of sustenance, not a restless ceiling, but rather a wild star.

today, we still inhale that wounded love,
the dagger of sun in the distance.

"the love poem of catullus" by charles bukowski

she read his poems
she read them to the men waiting in her bed
then tore them up
laughing
and fell on the bed
opening her legs to the nearest convienient
cock.

but Catullus continued to write love
poems to her
as she fucked slaves in back
alles, and
when they were together
she robbed him while he was
drunk,
mocked his verse and his
love,
pissed on his
floor.

Catullus who
otherwise
wrote brilliant
poems
faltered under the spell of
this wench
who
it is said
as she grew old
fled from him
begat a new life upon a far isle
where she ended up a
suicide.

Catullus was like
most poets:
i understand
and i forgive as i
re-read him:
he knew
as death approached
that it's
better to start out with a
strumpet then to end up
with one.

cell phone haikus

Trapped inside my head
thoughts, visions, such things of beauty.
All i see is waste

Morning has come, and
the sky is perfect, natures,
Alive. i damn work

Knight on the quite sands
stars in glisten in a clear sky
no princess is near

God cubic-kills suck!
better outside or making
love. well drinks tonight.