the necessary condition

A poetry blog

Month: September, 2013

Escapism, at best.

enter my wardrobe.

enter my wardrobe.

Narnia for a while,
can bring forth,
an insig
htful smile.

Narnia for a while longer,
can bring forth,
a spirit
ual slaughter.

Bring your coats, swords,
powers to the back.
The wardrobe leads in,
to a life o
ff track.

Imagine foreword a dream,
that’ll catch.
Watch for cautionary tales,
in the
strings with circle latch.

Monitor your life bass,
release your carbon monox.
Breathe in plant fumes,
collect wardrobe rocks.

Leave markers to find your way back,
with alarms and reminders,
set staggered notes,
and search-rescue finders.

Recall the lions,
lick your wounds.
Come back in bett
er piece,
before the witch sets your tombs.

Restrain seeking revenge,
remember your choice to enter,
the wardrobe did tempt you
but, was your demon o
ff center?

Be wary of the Ice Queen,
who’s cold with the pageant smile gate.
She’ll pick you up and eat you,
then play it real a
s fate.

Request time for yourself,
you didn’t come back.



won burn | won lick

san francisco pier

san francisco pier

The water carrier
brings forth the pen,
to paper it hits
se her ken.

Grab the incense,
a wick ready to burn,
she just wants to feed those who need
before they starve to

The bucket carries more
than hydration,
try agai
n for the next won,
get your salvation.

Nourishment we taste in
is our cunning wit.
It throws us and loathes us,
til we say fetch, rollover, sit.

Release your inner in sense,
h a burn and a lick,
8 months and four minutes,
her goal is to love me sick.

Recall the water carrier,
she loves her touch,
not controlling.



but one.

there's an always an opening.

there’s an always an opening.

I ate the birds to sing a song.
I slept,
with a
n angel for,
a wish on which to
I went downtown
to learn what not,
to be.

Released my steeze,
on a full moon breeze.

I shared a cookie
and did
n’t get a
Will Remember to never
but one.



numb daze

empty can

empty can

There are good days
and there are bad days
That is

But then there are days
of daze.
Not good, nor bad.
No fee
you could’ve had.

No distinction,
no emotion,
r memory,
of conviction.

No pardon,
no thanks,
nor successes,
in ranks.

No heart,
nor disgust,
in perspire.

Those numb daze…
are no good.
nor bad.
They’re dangerous,
disinterest clad.


proud of you

proud of you

proud of you


Reach a goal,
continue reaching.
Exceed expectation,

Continue to the next, absorbing..


Live life,
with utmost integrity.
Life li
with respected clarity.


You amaze me everyday,
staying humble.
You mot
ivate, inspire me,

Proud of




man up | work

man up | work

I am your whore.

I was your whore,
I asked to be,
I do for pay,
you kno
w that’s me.

I love success,
I love the praise.
I have the talents,
you have the raise.

I let go a little,
was not my corner.
I withdrew a little,
she was warmer.

But I am back,
you best be ready.
Back at work,
cs UNIT-E-D.

-an ode to work.



It’s been 2 months.
but it’s plain to see,
the lif
e I made,
thunder STUCK me.

Been writing, been loving,
been working to deaths,
been life-ing and living,
been catching he
r breaths.

Here’s a dabble into life presently:

The water, she trickles deep,
in her eardrums.
The animals, they whimper,
much louder than hums.

The birds they sing,
The forest, it grows.
The people, they stare,
Yet, less frien
ds than foes.

Disappear promptly into 3 cities,
no specifics, no word,
just jump realities.

Suburbia allows for distorted growth,
Breathe in the air,
take therapeutic oath.

The water, she disrupts,
her trickling best.
The animals, they break,
the blood pump in chest.
the birds, they mock,
the forest it haunts,
The peop
le, they talk,
Yet, my life here is on lock.


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