Ramblings

my thirst is quenched by the blood of my ancestors
i am descendant of you & you & you
champion of your broken tomorrows
each step i take is a step further than you ever took
but the planet's surface constantly brings me back to where i begun

this is my manifesto
detailed account of what i plan not to achieve
it is all a dream and when i wake up
i shall begin at the end and return to the beginning
i am the only son of Jupiter
contra-gender manifestation of Venus
she has a .......
and i have a penis

baby, will you be my Yoko Ono
when i die publish every word i ever wrote
even the grocery list
someone has to get paid off this madness
my insanity is electric
it makes my hair stand
and my throat choke

scattered thoughts are the pillars of this society
mentally i embrace chaos
but expect order and control in my home

mommy i hear voices
they say they represent you
and i must do as they do
not as they say
but i can't see them

i wipe my feet on the moon
before stepping onto the dust of mars
pluto is great for skiing but nothing else
prefer to holiday on mercury
nice, a tad bit warm, but great for sandboarding

am i rambling
my theory is chaotic
in the random there is order
in nonsense there is sense
i feel like the n
marooned in a distant planet
between se and se
cute?

this is the product of an orgy
with decadent angels bored with the stiffness of heaven
did i say 'stiffness'?
juvenile humor has a way of bringing out the child in me

am i the only one who thinks hell is about decadence
and heaven is like living at home with your parents
ALL THE TIME
the sins of the father never visited on this son
babies come from heaven
shouldn't we return there in death
or is it a natural progression to fall down

the words reflect nothing but themselves
i am nothing but a mouthpiece
fingering keyboard because i am bored

mommy i hear voices
please tell them to STOP

The End

I died in a dream last night
And found myself in purgatory
With the poets, and writers, and rappers
Got caught in a conversation
With Tupac and Shakespeare
On the power of rhyme & reason
Old Will found American English treason
And Pac thought the rhyming couplet thing
Was totally overplayed
I left them sharing a pipe of heavenly weed
And moved on in search of Pinero
Who was chatting up a transvestite
For a line
Still seeking a cause
He reminisced about the nuyorican
Still waiting for his soul mate, miguel algarin,
To come join him for the next chapter
Of the hereafter
Seems I had ended up in the place where writers go
Between heaven and hell
Lorca, Wilde, Themba, Wright, Hughes, Baldwin were all there
Kerouac, Williams, Biggie & Ginsberg too
The list was long
And I had no time
Coz morning was coming
And then I awoke