Wednesday, August 10, 2011

im so relieved.... im so confused..... i just wish i was dead

Monday, August 8, 2011


hit over the head by flying tempered glass.... to reunite is shattering.... almost.
aged to perfection, whiskey breath blessed us thou join our father in heaven and sentenced.

to be restless

destined to be distanced

by wandering saints, my armor as candle smoke....( just judge )
led away if not to ever stray.  she watches blooming brown roses from
moving camera lens hands. smoking time in both our heads our nightstands.
dead sheep rot. dead dear doe. dead wolf is forest as snow is the snow.
everybody dies homeless tomb. webbed branches braided like plastic covered furniture drapes down,
like bodies decay dipping in and out and down on the ground.   whiskey dick.
my heart hurt cause my chest was there to keep it from the sky.
so high nothin could pull me down.
i got over my addictions  like old baseball card covers,
kept in drawers hidden, not traded anymore
but kept in mint condition.
i kicked it weeks before you came.
like soccer ball at soccer game.
untrained, unglued, peeling the sheets off myself and putting them over you.
it's my funeral so everyone else gets to plan it.
just say i was a horrible man and a good liar,
and that i'll get what I want.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

i am...

i am done writing for now.  because there is nothing to write about that makes me feel better.

Friday, June 3, 2011

waitin on an ok next four days for 140 bucks....or ending of patterned leg sports/ spans... blood sport, expand....
out the ends of beds sit bedpans. my wildness ensues in passionate complasence, the dairy
component of my hands empty spaces, my shoes fitting on with untied laces. how you can
float on most cases, how my skin is coffin and still spacious
i saw baby dolls on shelves hooked on walls, that sprawled the length of young mexican girls daydreams.
clenched in the fingers of natural pulls, in CVS past shitty magazines to hardware tools, from revolutions of declarations of passions to school.  murdered inhibitions, fist fights, fucked. strung across skin carpets
after bar and street close down.  i still wish i got a magazine....could feel insane

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

i like when celebrities die

  I like when celebrities die by convict gypsy

you watch tv (couch)
you watch me(sunshine)
you like wen celerities die(siamese twins)
and fancy things (toys)
you never had (fuckup)
just your dreams (animals at windows)
ur fathers old hat (ugly)
why youd steal at school (pretty)
some girls kit caboodle (rich)
dont blame this child (childhood)
dont blame me child (regret)
and do u think we’ll survive (no)
i mean u and i (especially)
wen ur lonley beauty makes u cry (always)
like when celebrities die (princess diana)
in a fire  (meltin plastic fuckin skin)
or wreckin the cars (texting)
slit their throats( betrayel)
fallin off of boats (sharks )
we grew up to fast (done done done)
just like ur father had (dead)
to far in to hell to fast (heroin)
when he came home from work u wdnt speak(babies)
u watched me (infatuation)
when i watched tv (nothingness)
angled skin captured in light (fame)
my veins fall asleep (collapsed)
now when ur givin head (nice)
to ur new boyfriend (who cares)
he cant see ur haunted eyes( beautiful)
ur smile wen celebrites die(future)
hell isnt down its up( 666)

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

what's sleep, what's bein awake?
i found a bunch of purple hair under my bed. what the fuck is that?
i hate how i have to go outside to smoke.  thanks for breakfast, thanks for everything.  shit changes.
i was joking about you gettin me heroin, it made you cry, i laughed but then when there were other problems I dont know.... you listened, gave me encouragement to do better and alot of the time I am... well, i have been.  i can keep fake smilin at you or if you go somewhere else i can smile for real.  i ran over a dead cat on my bike and almost wrecked.  i think ive been outside maybe twice in the last week.  so that's the good news and bad news.  something, i don't know what but it's floatin around the air, it makes me feel like death.
what's death.  Belphegor is playin at the troc
April 24th.  and i want to go and I will if i can afford it
or if someone wants to buy me a ticket.  It smells good outside right now,
it smells like grass and decay/thawing so spring is almost here.
to much has happened and changed this past week so i'm usually either
screamin at nothing or keepin my mouth shut.  i dont like how hostile ive gotten.
i dont like how i have nothin to write about anythin.  i like how i stay up and just shake
 and not think of anythin until the damn sun comes up. goddamn the sun. shoot me.
get it

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

cant wait....

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Monday, February 28, 2011

Friday, February 25, 2011

a cartographer perfected her craft
found the sonnets of Lazarus next to a series of of torn maps
leading down a drain of a warm bath
wiped grape jelly off of broke glass 
we found sitting on the flowers he left in the trash
I dont care if I’m a poor boy
emotionally inept and devoid
of killing sweetly with practiced poise
of dreamless wakes in a casket cascades
awoken on my bed from a sad noise
of you screamin down the stairs in your mother’s voice
i can repeat how you’ll be okay
just repeat what keeps up apart you do them every day.
she wipes the drool off the side of my mouth
put out my cigarette before I burnt down her house.
im not awoken by no sad noise now
from tops of stairs to the bowels of hell
satan got me, you bought the souls from kids
on a playground you got mine for a G.I Joe and two fun-dips
they hate you now for the care you give
i hate you cause it is imperative
when people said I should know better
i convinced you to let me prove them wrong
you kept it out of our public lives
boasted balances of dark and white
go out west to get clean, i can stay off drugs but i’ll still drink
but i dont want you to take care of me
got q-tips and keratin
why use water from the toilet when you can use it from the sink?
why miss anything when you dont gotta think.
and you’re always on top of everything
and i like your dirty feet
and this sucks because i do not wanna mess up my streak
but you make me food which i dont eat
they laid out a bunch beside the bed
and you don't know how much you did
so now you wont let me leave
cause you're afraid you might get sick
and I like how you never smile
and we’ve shared alot so far.
dumb bitch i’m gonna stab you
im lookin for your sadness

Thursday, January 27, 2011

i either ate to much last night or drank to much.  I guess you cant drink to much when youre tryin to kill yourself.  i was gonna say "I'll go sober if you go sober".  building roofs for over your head, I could do it my whole life.  I dont even understand my logic, Ive never loved somethin like that.  Always without a heart, my god...  In sixth grade I saved up my money and bought you a silver cross from t.j.maxx, in 8th grade i smoked crack for the first time.  dropped off, fuck you.  I remember kids called you 'boobless Bobbi' and I chased them down and kicked them onto the ground,  I crushed ones head in with the ball bin,  I did it again later to him cause he was throwin rocks at a bat but that was a year later.  The second time I got in so much trouble, they had my mom pick me up from school.  It's funny though because you have fake tits now and I used to like you- before that.  I never would now,  I won't date blondes.   from here on out I will ruin peoples lives if they cross me.  it is a threat.  i don't care anymore.  my blood is blood, that's about it.

i hate myself.  i tried making pumpkin bread earlier yesterday and it didn't work, it stayed liquid even bein in the oven for over three hours.  I cant feed myself or make myself shit that'd make me happy, it's pathetic.  shadows pulled me toward the walls, they got taller as i got closer.  i dont need nothin, i just wanna be beat to mauve and black spotted dog heals, heal.  i'm extremely fuc.....
I told my little sister she was born with a sacral tail but that my mom never told her.  I met a bartender from south street a couple days ago, she's fuckin hot.  I dont like her.  I dont like blondes... she does work at one of my favorite bars though.  guess I was made for one woman?  I sewed my jeans by hand the other day and the first pair i put on ripped again.  i was at a bar with my friends.  i like them cause honestly they give me free drugs.  any other reason would be a lie.  well except (Tanya) smells good.
i gotta smoke a cig.  um...  i'm not writin in this shit anymore.  It's stupid.  it's tryin to prove a point that doesnt mean anythin.  I just have nothin to say or write.

Did you know a star called Betelgeuse is supposed to explode/implode/super nova bullshit in 2012...  ?  It's supposed to light up the sky like a second sun for over a week.  I'll die before I see that shit.  Pray to me, tell me how it is.  I aint gettin a pizza on 2012 with noone but you and I actually hope i'm dead before then anyway.

reason one is- i started hearin voices the other day again.  It actually scares the shit out of me.  I have noone to tell who will understand.  except the doctor I go to sometimes... and I dont care enough about him or me to afford him; you know cause I do everythin myself now, have been.  My mom dont help me with nothin.  I got no social worker or healthcare.  WOE is me huh, fuck that.  At least when I d....  Sometimes I think that's why I might die or be a fuckin good husband.  pollinate up in that shit and have a devil baby.  raise it in the catacombs and shit.  that's all i fuckin wanna do and shit.  just cum up in your shit.  i need a cigarette...   Noones ever been there for me and I sure as shit dont need noone now, unless I want pumpkin bread I guess, I cant cook at all.  ill probably stab anyone who comes near me today.  I'm not writin in this thing anymore.  I dont respect you because you've always had someone there and I don't, I don't have noone.  I'm gonna read my book about the Bermuda Triangle and sleep forever.  I'll do some traveling,  I'll lay in the woods with you, plot out where to build a glass house.  Look out through pourin rain under the cover of owls sittin in hangin trees.  Raccoons picking off the lacquer that's chipping off the corners of the house, hear the wind come in through the window.  I was never given a real chance.  what's fucked up is record executives have contacted me, want me to play with a group of trained musicians from Nashville that Ive never even met.  what the fuck is that?  These people probably amazin with no vision of their own to play for me.  I dont even know how to approach shit like that.  set up for failure man.  turned dumb. cause that's what i want,  in a house in the woods.  Not leavin eachothers sides for nothin.  pure.  sick.  disgusting.  Sleep forever.  I'm not writing in this shit anymore.    I gotta walk in 10 ft snow now.  na i'm goin back to bed.  i hate god.  fuck u. bye.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

I'm fuckin hearin voices again.  I was checkin behind bushes in my mom's backyard last time I heard them like this.  My leg is hurtin more and more and they told me I might need to use a cane in two-five years.  This past summer I ran through the woods, climbed on top of rocks and cliff jumped into the susquehanna then winter came and my leg hurts like shit.

not even god can hurt us there.  beneath stairs.  at least two days a week I've been hopin.  I don't really know.

kiss kiss kiss yourself to death
never wanted it to end like this
the corners of my walls they all do insist 
i want your swingin shadow to blanket my blankness
your whiskey is the perfume ive slept with lately
and heaven is the place hes in when he is rapin
under the buststop theres plenty of love,
wipe off the stovetop drips of my blood
cause that's how we are

sick beneath trees that lined the fence next to the park
people can tell youre wounded when youre touched
if im a bad person why do u love me so much?
...cause thats now how u are

attend church wit michael on the outskirts of st. marks
locked in the bathroom u pissed a plus sign, thru the door he said
you're not the one goin to hell so why are u da one lookn so dead?

Monday, January 17, 2011

toag deirdtsirch

      A few years back I made my way   across the northern plane.   I was traveling with a couple I knew the girl she had long brown hair  and the boy also   did.
From Oregon we passed through Twin Falls Idaho and continued north through Wyoming.  On back roads we happened upon a van  parked in a field underneath a set of trees and the limbs looked like someone's arms broken into a thousand ways after mangled with a sledge hammer maybe and then       hung with clothes pins from a an old metal clothing line.  under these branches a group of nomadic kids yelled to us, all in their twenties maybe all a little older than me.  They offered and we   drank homemade moonshine with them and I traded my shoes to one of the kids for some really good speed.

        The couple left without me and the van of these hippies were headed the opposite direction from where I needed to be, I persuaded them to drop me off at the nearest highway.  A man picked me up and took me home where his wife was and I showered there and I had to    kick the mud off that was on my feet.  I argued with the man as we ate stew and cornbread he ccalled me a communist.  Remembering old Pasolini films I've watched I began to identify with his constant references.  He was a fascist libertine who's wife reassured that I stay the night.  The soup bowls were the fancy ones from those dinnerware sets in department stores and I threw the bowl at the window farthest but directly in front of me breaking it.  
He fell in love with the idea of prostitution as I beckoned with God.  His thoughts conceived my own and so my attempts at freedom had to manifest in somethin other   than a     physical ideal.  
           Waking up tied to a chair with dirty cloth in the kitchen I remembered Bertolucci films and how the women were glorified in a pragmatic light, to me anyhow.  If it made sense when I undid myself from t  he cloths I heard the man waking up at the sound of my consciousness.  His wife was in the kitchen and ignored me as I picked through the cupboards.  wrapping tinfoil around my head would hide me for sure.     I saw 3 gutted fish on the counter and crucified and bleeding roe out onto the floor, they still twitched and breathed.  the wife sat on the floor, she had blonde hair that was graying.  From under the sink where she sat in front of I pushed her to the side and she was lifeless in body except her head which kept sayin 

"i aint afraid of no devil, i aint      afraid of the d evil     , i aint afrid of the devil cause , I aint afrain of the dev il....."

                Drinking a glass of bleach my throat kept inside  secrets    and so  the invader not able to hear me think I showered again.  Both the man and the wife said I could borrow the truck if I abandon it somewhere off highway 463 by Old Crows.  I must have walked a whole day before I was picked up again this time by another old ma  n who told me about a Thai girl he used to love and I had something like that I was thinking of an the old Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton movie "golf antics" and that was maybe one of my    favorites and how I   couldn't stop laughing at the groundhog who steals all of the golf balls until Buster Keaton shoots the groundhog, I did that too sometimes.  I had this friend and her name wasn't important but she'd laugh alot.  The man said "did she have big titties" and I don't know if she died but I made my way across the northern plane.  the man said "I'm not afraid of the devil , I'm not afraid of the devil, I' not afraid of no devil" and he always smelled like sawdust.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Stalin dressed in girls' clothes

 stray stray stray (demo) by convict gypsy

u scratched marks into your legs
ripped skin like a colorin book maze
eat grass until u dont shake
sang devil children from they cave

stalin dressed in girl clothes
fetal in fetu a ghost u name cole

told me thing you didnt tell ur mom
other things u wouldnt tell noone
i do things i never talk about
we both know how bad that sounds

sounds like ice gainst glass in spring
gota spread spread like legs or wings
heavens somwhere between ur thighs
the sky in my dead eyes

that saw right through you
when ur on the couch and cant move
i could stray stray stray

under under an overpass we make
fire , every burnt bible page
god help me escape and blow away

well today i have to go to group
but i promise ill talk about you
my lifeline stopped on my palm
but i never told noone

Sunday, January 9, 2011

chrival trujest

the cop cars out my window bustled past like the cavalier.
my dreams sped past and out my head, but my stomach still hurt 
until i knew i was finally looking at heaven, written across my wall in pen.  not you and your sister.
while you're here waiting to die, rest your hand on your crotch, trail your other hand across the hairs on your arm until they raise and you feel the cold hold onto you.
i never stopped looking for your face in every taxi that passed by the iron rot gates.
particular alleyways between Penelope's veins that still remain darkened in darkened retreat as the last to purge bible pages from your arms, eyes, and feet.  would you stop for a baby?
mammary induced intuition abuse, a new flower to replace the dead ones from every season over, swollen n therefor lacking of plan; you hear the rain fall outside, you hear the rain fall outside, you hear the rainfall outside.
i wanna kill everything that has a soul.  all the trees are dead, from down here, you held my head and you touched my hair and said to me "Jady, it's sick that that's the only thing that ever makes you smile."

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

pissed cvs is out of marb lights, that's why it caught on fire
pissed i cant eat
pissed i cant move
birds are dyin everywhere
try to start writin somethin?