like Poet Tree used to say…

You no good raggedy simple minded motherfucker

Sometimes you have to call a spade a spade
Slit masters throat during the inauguration
in front of the news cameras
take your noose with a smile
We ain’t never been niggas
but you niggers
won’t listen to good sense
unless I tell you exactly how it is
No hyperbole
Write it down bloody & tattered at the edges
so when you taste the vinegar
your involuntary gag reflex warns
the pits of your stomach
Here comes the truth
No sugar
No warmth
just the unvarnished
Pummeling of broken bone fragments

Bitch you must be out your gotdamn mind

because sometimes these bitches talk
like they pussy made of sunshine
ain’t had a pap smear in 6 summers
but swear she know the combination
to the bank vault

He swore in plain language
You cowards too afraid of who might be offended
but if I said something that hurt your feelings
Good that is exactly what that shit was ment for

Cock sucking, ass biting, shit stain of a bastard child

You think this bullshit is reckless
Fooled yourself into thinking
because you can articulate your incivility
it makes your lack of principles less injurious

Well, fuck you and your momma for having you

You scared to say what you mean
when you mean what you say
change energies
for the Pastor or the Principal

All bowing and curtsy when it’s convenient
Knowing that your belly is bloated churning
Under “yes, sir & “no, Ma’am”
Fuck that
gonna say something
loud like Poet Tree used to
So you can hear him
from inside the back of the cruiser
you lying shape shifting sons of bitches
keep fucking playing with my emotions
and the bullshit stops
Right the fuck now…


I know because
I been there
underneath the stop signs
talking crazy & over drunk
Fucked up,
slipped and lost years
to demons
You punk ass niggas
wouldn’t know
A fist fight from a alter call
Silly ass niggaz

You better listen while I tell you
I am trying to save you from the flames
Your tiny hands would just surrender
And ain’t no giving up or time outs
In these streets


Poet Tree…


A girl named Sinnamon

the clacking of her beaded braids
mimicking mothers every utterance
the false starts & stops of her lip liner
she can’t remember
her chastity
a baby or fools protection
she is known for her spin cycle
the election of men to her delicate dignity
the alter of her hips has followers
grams of white lines
she is burning wicks at both ends
losing her urgency and ambition
in tumblers of casked casket water
sweet brown liquor stains
her smile
or what is left of her inherited beauty
they court her with paper
she accepts their advances
convinced it will enhance her chances
of escaping her situation

till the devil invaded her personal hell
stab marks, clear heels, and a letter
was found with in and around her cadaver
her last words
never knew she had kept watch
was doing this to send him something
she was always giving till she gave away everything…


Love is an immovable object
in sea of temporary glances
Shallow waters of fraudulent embraces
We are all stained with broken promises
Scars from open rejection


is a long time
Till death rips you from my arms
Till the sun forgets to rise

Seems distant
But life is a short prelude to the eternity to follow
These rings are just a symbol of our permanent
Diamonds are sandcastles
compared to the destiny in your eyes
We were ment to be together

The Happily ever after takes work
Now comes the hard part
Joined at the thumping parts
of our living muscles
Prepared for anything to come
Holding each other & taking on Forever

Like a long day’s work

Like a summer’s vacation

Like a open book quiz

For you I saved these kisses
These closed eyed,
Unrestrained untamed passionate
Open mouth promises

Profits from the account of my loving

Forever isn’t enough time for me to prove
What is evident in everything I do and undo for you.

We Tied the knot
And hid the diagram

Jumped the broom
And burnt whisks

This union shall go unbroken
This ceremony the epilogue

Of a life spent searching for the other half

Of a FOREVER we will share together

“still suffering” or “comparing captivity”

traded chains for mandatory sentences
nooses and bullets for more nooses and bullets
the God in the index is not the same God in the text
proud eyes are dangerous
dignified is boring
more & better drugs make you magical

cotton, sugar, cocoa, and tobacco
crew neck tees, fructose, cocaine, and Swisters
nothing changed but the packages

the prison cells are slave ship quarters close
the belly changed
same ole beast

they are hunting free negros
under neath skyscrapers
these gallow trees
sway slower
even though the slave catchers dress the same
they still ride horses
kill without warning
and seldom call you by your proper name

we are playing different music to the same old beat
catching the same ole beatings
under the same ole sky.

Gabby’s Compact or Olympic Make-Up bags

the quadriceps contract
lightning flashes as gravity submits
glittering mesmerizing flases of limelight
feet together hands above our heads
perfection in balancing acts
somewhere in the sacrifice of regiment
she forgot how shallow the looking glass
makes the demons with bright eyes
who think vanity is legal tender

before the auction block or the crucifixion of the innocent
they first straighten your crown
Cesar buried at the foot of Pompey
presentable for your new master
though you can’t live in sandcastles
the realtor will try to sell you on location

don’t believe them
when they tell you about things
they know nothing of
like scientist who explain away God
with the Laws of nature

they will never understand their foolishness
do not submit to it
you were always perfect
no matter how much practice it took to get there
don’t let the castanets
drown out the anthem

they will always find something
to make you human again
false idols of demigods statues
lesser elements can’t lecture bricks of Gold
you are living out your dreams
stay awake
enjoy every moment
don’t ever let the devil have your joy


Wonder if the concrete shivers

Under the weight of the Purple Rain

wonder if they will have a moratorium

on the chemtrails

for at least 48 hours


you having just been given possession

of your God body

wonder if I will always believe they took you

they take so much from us

take our Mother Moses and make her into idol

take our idols and turn them white


they can not have you brother

these things you didPrince

belong to us

you were, are, and always will be a Prince

with diamonds and pearls glistening

will always walk that thin line

between real and fairytale


a creation of creativity

a mountain surrounded by hills

in a valley of purple flowers

dancing till the ground submits

to the power inside your chord progression

a minster to the soul of less fortunate souls

that didn’t have the words

God gave to you

to give to us

So we wouldn’t feel so alone


We will grieve you alone

And together

But the music will cry itself to sleep…

In Jordy’s Name we decree…

When in the course of PROFESSIONAL events, it seems unnecessary for one knee ligament  to dissolve the bands which have connected it with another, though the fans assume it minor when the player leaves the field of play under his own powers, the separate and equal Laws of Reason and Sanity fail them. A decent respect to the opinions of the Packer Faithful requires that we should declare the causes which impel them to the separation is stupid and require the National Football League stop playing so many fucking PRESEASON football games.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that Non-Contact Preseason Football injuries Suck, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable properties, that among these are Stupidity, Injury and the pursuit of More Money from fans who are already over paying for a product which is, more often than not, subpar.

Hence whenever any Form of Exhibition Play becomes destructive, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new standards & principles in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to protect their TEAMS Safety and Happiness.