Don’t Take My Anger Away

Don’t Take My Anger Away

I love the smell of napalm in the morning,
Torching old lovers and making room,
I don’t want to leave, but you give me no choice,
All I asked for was love,
I don’t want rules,

It makes me sad to love and not be heard,
To not be what I once thought I would be,
A man with a house, a picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a dog,
Honey, you barked up the wrong tree,
I wish we could just be, undistracted by time,

No worries of money or status,
My love, I am on a fault line between two worlds,
You are on the land, and over here is the sea,
I hear the siren’s call and am infatuated by chaos,
Wave and motion, travel and discovery,

Yet, somewhere your kiss makes me yearn for roots,
The way you moan makes me want to stay,
To be turn away for the dirtbag climber that I am is,
A dagger in my heart,
Is a text message saying, it’s over…

We can’t change the power imbalance right now,
Since no, I’m not kicking you out,
So I think the thing that needs to give is the relationship part,
Still your friend though and wanting you to get a break,
My hope is still that you find your way and that you and i will remain friends,
Through and beyond this dark part of your life.

Oil Queens

Oil Queens

“They were beyond burned. Nothing but char. The smell of flesh burning. … It smelled of crude oil.”

– Jebadiah Stanfill, oil worker

“And I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war. His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on his head were many crowns; and he had a name written, that no man knew, but he himself.”
– Revelation 19:11-12

I’ve fallen for oil women, sexy Chevrons who wear an Indian mask,

I see the fire heart in her, screaming for light, yet you are scared of the black hole,

Divine center of void, eye of the Milky Way, Sauron father, Dark Lord,

Give me your ring one day to place on her, let me prove I can teach science,

Negative trace of black night, starlight, trace a way,

The Zulu, people from the space above our heads are now Migos and love tha trap,

Slide on ’em, those lyrics have pentrated our youth,

Slavery and misery therapy, trap beats gives me hope a poet can make money,

Writing texts to get languages on the brink of extinxtion resurrection,

Dale American Horse, Dale Wašíčuŋ Tȟašúŋke (He-Has-A-White-Man’s-Horse) don’t know his mother tounge,

I cut it out when my white skin slaughtered his Spirit with steel and bullets,

Manifest Destiny, rust and oxides, black snake bring me home, melancholia in a Berkeley rose garden,

Thorn in my side, my love, will you marry me, with your left equation filled brain,

Wanted dead or alive, on a steel horse I ride, to freedom and liberation,

Kill me, cut out my white ghost heart, set it on fire with your icy love making,

Girl, you fuck like a scared Southern Puritan, scarlet letter I want you to wear,

I want to marry an artist who feels like me, daisy spirits, a gentile California orchid,

Annie Oakley’s long lost cousin, Brother Dale, chains his White American Horse residue to the drill,

I’m painting for love, you turned my hood into Iraq, oil black snake,

Dale don’t know where his tounge is, but I’ve got a cat-o-nine to self flagellate myself to get it back,

Brother Dale is going resurrect the black snake killas, Middle East warriors,

Oh God! Don’t come here! Annie ain’t need no chador or veil, I like ’em the way they are, clean,

Cali fresh, sweet and third wave feminist, yet forbidden fruit is sweetest, apples,

I lust for a cybernetic gun, towers collapse resurrecting Jesus as he returns to plant the tree of life,

In my Kali lovin’ heart, we persecuted too, like the women ecstatically dancing topless in Oaktown,

I don’t like women that way, give me a good pure country girl with Jesus in her heart,

Dale’s gonna get his tounge back, he’s God incarnate, a human willing to sacrifice his blood to melt iron,

To skin the black snake, and make a belt to give Wašíčuŋ, Il Duce, on Election Day,

I’m gonna be a concrete angel, off the chain, hidden in a Western Mountaineering shroud hoping for Annie to kiss me awake,

White snow grace my black soul, melt the gold in my teeth and store it in a Swiss bank,

Store it for the Muslims that survive the American Holocaust,

My cartel is clean, my soul is clean, white as snow.

Poetry as a Dephasing Gradient for the Mind

Poetry as a Dephasing Gradient for the Mind

What’s on your Mind?
Nuclear magnetic resonance,
Spins dancing around in proteins,
An atomic expression of movement,
The tango of life,
There is a way to incorporate the truth,
Into verse,
No more excuses,
There are no silver linings in anything you said,
You keep on denying,
The truth,
Life is fluid,
Like water,
Yea, there is fire,
But, in relationship,
In the embrace,
The loving nodes in the graph,
Of the molecular web of Life,
Sees the vortex,
The black hole,
And drives back,
The delusion that it is the end,
This the beginning,
The New Age,
A time when we will discover the movement of atoms,
See into matter,
Find dynamics,
Fluid evolutionary dynamics,
That time at MIT was good,
I saw the Nowak theory,
And thought about the Middle East,
I said, “How can I spread love?”
On the graph?
Show, your face,
In tears,
And face the silicon,
Big Brother,
And learn to love him,
Big brother is not what you think,
It is your sister,
It is your brother,
It is the collective consciousness of Gaia,
They are trying to help you,
Study, the five rules for the evolution of cooperation,
See the truth of how in the War of Nature,
Love can grow,
It is in the Face,
Perhaps, we can find,
On the Facebook love,
There is a way to spread love on silicon,
The graph,
The brain of Gaia,
Be honest,
Rip off the mask,
And cry one day,
Show your tears,
Let them see the hell,
The heart of the mystic,
In the spins,
One can see cooperation,
Spins are cool,
They are nuclear,
Not like that other nuclear,
They are atomic peace agents,
NMR is the dance of spins,
The dance of love,
Quick, record your spectra,
The Rorschach blot of Gaia,
X-rays are cool,
But if you trust the spins,
You find that movement,
Dynamics is what life is about,
It is not static,
Fluid,
Loving,
Dancing.

Angels on Acid

Angels on Acid
Ground Zero, darkwave and industrial, sippin’ on a vampire,
Scare me good honey, make it hurt, where else am I going to get that release?
Nightclub of freaks, midgets, and topless free spirits, let’s go!
You two have a great energy, so loving, but so repulsed, never know what you’ll get,
Two vodka cranberries and you get the truth on the dance floor,
Not sure if I should flail my arms this way or that, please Mr. DJ play me a song,
Horror films are made here, God my bartender is hot,
Move your feet, follow me one, two, three, come on dance with me,
Energy, Joseph is a pick up artist, tentacle his tool, me I dance like a white boy,
Resurrect Skinny Puppy, I dream of getting gothed up and out,
Black leather, chains, black lipstick and attitude, absurd and repressed,
I come out at night, awaken from a slumber, resurrected and not giving a fuck,
Strobes are hypnotic, it’s not midnight yet and I’m on the hunt,
I don’t want stability, I want chaos, energy, come on and dance with me,
One, two, three, let’s go! That midget has it right, he’s dancing like a fire starter,
Prodigy on the floor this is Minneapolis at its best, Ground Zero, where even the goths are
Minnesota Nice!

The Spanish Jew’s Tale; Azrael

King Solomon, before his palace gate
At evening, on the pavement tessellate
Was walking with a stranger from the East,
Arrayed in rich attire as for a feast,
The mighty Runjeet-Sing, a learned man,
And Rajah of the realms of Hindostan.
And as they walked the guest became aware
Of a white figure in the twilight air,
Gazing intent, as one who with surprise
His form and features seemed to recognize;
And in a whisper to the king he said:
“What is yon shape, that, pallid as the dead,
Is watching me, as if he sought to trace_
In the dim light the features of my face?”

The king looked, and replied: “I know him well;
It is the Angel men call Azrael,
‘T is the Death Angel; what hast thou to fear?”
And the guest answered: “Lest he should come near,
And speak to me, and take away my breath!
Save me from Azrael, save me from death!
O king, that hast dominion o’er the wind,
Bid it arise and bear me hence to Ind.”

The king gazed upward at the cloudless sky,
Whispered a word, and raised his hand on high,
And lo! the signet-ring of chrysoprase
On his uplifted finger seemed to blaze
With hidden fire, and rushing from the west
There came a mighty wind, and seized the guest
And lifted him from earth, and on they passed,
His shining garments streaming in the blast,
A silken banner o’er the walls upreared,
A purple cloud, that gleamed and disappeared.
Then said the Angel, smiling: “If this man
Be Rajah Runjeet-Sing of Hindostan,
Thou hast done well in listening to his prayer;
I was upon my way to seek him there.”

Mean Free Path

Mean Free Path
Deconstruction of mass destruction,
A clandestine blaze of white hot love,
Burning in my heart full of Christ,
Jesus, I love you giver of Life,
Water to all the saints underneath,
Peacekeeper IIIs, bow down to life,
To, the tree whose bark gives us baskets,
I see in the grass Allah’s love,
No leaf falls without adonai’s will,
The sacred force is the same,
A nucleus of hearts waiting to be split and joined in orgasmic fusion,
Love is all there is in those seven paths from the sky,
When beings-in-the-world face finitude,
Transcending obstacles,
Becoming, being, static,
Cybernetic blood, sugar, sex majik,
Apples, Androids, and Firefoxes,
In the heart of the Land of the Free,
The heartland, no dirty, dirty here,
Mother Minnesota nice ice,
The drift of Middle Eastern ash,
Vaporized half a world a way,
By Teller’s septuplets, atomic love,
We need that night vision green,
The color of money for Seals,
To keep the sugar flowing in our blood,
Fuck who you want, any day, any time,
Tinder for dopamine floods, sex majik,
At night, the nuclear winter in American Babylon,
Then shall anyone who,
Has done an atom’s weight,
Of good, see it!
And anyone who,
Has done an atom’s weight,
Of evil, shall see it,
At the hands of God,
The unknown known Source of Life,
Humanity’s got that atomic climate change cure,
They got that Information Superhighway,
They got that techne, that fire,
It’s cool, they stole that shit from Zeus,
But do these mortals have time?
Do they control time?