Friday, August 23, 2013


I walk into a warzone

Tears shed and chaos
Blood spent and faiths lost
Feeling like there's no God to save us
Too busy putting her quarters in to play us.

Rockem sockem robots
With fists up ready to take a fuckin head off.
By all means, take mine
There's been a pressure building up in it and it won't let up.

The selfish martyr
Caught in the middle praying to God that no stone is cast.
Carrying my wounded kin upon my back,
Heavy, I wonder how Atlas had his nose scratched.

Damn, now how did he manage that?
One of the universes many secrets I guess.
How did we manage to get in this mess?
The head cried and told me not to stress.

She breathes heavy and pants,
"Don't be afraid, don't worry about me"
She said, "Whether I find my peace through Death,
With God, or out of this alley; this pain won't last".

"Don't speak like that" I said,
"If you meet Death, you won't be alone on that path
The heart can't live without the head
And you are both of mine so worry I must".

I walk into a warzone;

My tears shed amidst the chaos,
Smelling the scent of spent blood
My faith's lost,
The toy box is out, once again its Gods time to play us.

Toy soldiers with guns unholstered,
Rifles aimed ready to take a fucking head off.

The selfish martyr
By all means, have mine
Head in the guillotine
Waiting for them to take a chunk off.

We are dysfunctional;
If we were talking coins,
We'd be the ass end of the Huxtables.

Just toy soldiers locked and loaded
And yes the slugs will spill
Our blood must spill
I'll get the chills.

Temperature drops
We must be in the vicinity
Of our broken spirit.

We keep still and quiet
To try to hear it,
I try to cheer it.

But these emotions are only mine
I'd rather feel like a skinless freak
Then nothing at all.

They tried to prescribe medication
But I declined
Because nothing gets solved.

Besides, I'll gladly be the crash test dummy
The target practice bulls eye.
Take one for the team
The court jester doesn't mind
If you took his foolish pride.

My heart struggles for air
Choking back tears
I tell her to please
Please just breathe deep

It'll help in her soul's release,
The first lady I loved 
I kiss her temple
And her cheeks.

But I must walk into this warzone

See I need to carry my wounded kin upon my back
Wondering how Atlas never buckled.

The scarecrow gets his answer,
It all becomes clear,
Atlas was a titan and not just another mortal.
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Friday, June 28, 2013

To My Muggers

So I was nearly robbed the other day,
Two dudes came up looking to snatch my headphones.

They came at me from the back see
When they grabbed me, all I could think was Hell no.

Hell no things like this doesn’t happen in Barrhaven;
Not in the suburbs.

Hell no,

Not after you have lived in
And walked through some of the roughest areas
Ottawa has to offer unscathed.

But it happened.

And honestly, I’m poor as shit
With not much to offer but a pocket full of lint

Like, my umbrella may be classy
But I swear my dad’s a cabbie
And we got it for free
We didn’t even pay a cent.

Alright, I lied,
I had my headphones
And two hundred dollars;
A brother just got paaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiid

And I kept it in my backpack.
But even then all I was willing to offer them
Was my pocket lint;
They could have that.

I looked them both in the eye
One of them had my headphones in his hands
And he was like,
“What?! What are you going to do?!”.

Saw me going for my umbrella
And so he asked,
“What?! Are you going to swing that?!”
I said Hell yeah and let him have it too.
I swung for his head,
He let go of whats mine to defend
Grabbed the umbrella
And called to his friend

Like, “Grab him! Grab him!”.
So I thrusted the umbrella into his stomach
Let it go and was on him
Punched him in the mouth and eye

And elbowed his friend in the chin.
I broke my headphones
So they couldn’t have them
And did the manliest thing I could think of….

I ran as fast as I could!
From a bad beating,
Legs beating,
Heart beating.

But I got hit in the leg in the process
But I had got away!
They were getting back into their car!

But, they were talking shit
Aaaaand I have a big mouth….
So I shit talked back.

I asked him how his eye was
And he came at me like a dart
And I was his bulls eye.

Now word of advice,
If your would be attackers
Are getting back into their car while shit talking you

You won!

Don’t talk shit back!
Because they WILL chase you
And chase he did!
So I did the second manliest thing I could think of


I ran from a bad beating
Legs beating,
Heart beating

“Boom, Bap,
Boom, Boom, Bap”.

Or it had been had I not broken my headphones
But at least the fuckers didn’t get them
And I don’t regret that.

He grabbed me by the bag
And tried to get it off me,
I elbowed him twice to get him off me

Then did the third manliest thing I could think of
I took off see?!
I was hoping they lost me!

But they came at me with their car
And that’s when my fourth manliest moment kicked in

I ran
And I hid.
Then did the fifth manliest thing right after
I called the cops.

Head beating,
Heart beating
I forgot I had asthma
Best believe it had me wheezing.

And that was it,
The end;
The cavalry had arrived

Jokes aside,
I was terrified

And I’m still paranoid of lone walks
And black cars to this day.
Survival is more valuable than pride.

Its fight or flight and I did both
And to my muggers,
Thank you for not being cliché
Thank you for not telling me to break myself

Oh by the way,
How’s your eye?
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Sunday, March 10, 2013

The Scale

Diana (Blaze) Hansen said we should write a poem, I agreed and we did. She is yellow like awesome lemons.

Some days I wake up and the wind is strong enough to blow me over.
To seep into my mental stability and cause fragmentation.
My dreams seem so big in this prison, my will so small.
As hard as I wish, the haunted eyes never leave my mirror.
The sick twisted smile of death never stops haunting my dreams.
Death, so beautiful and enticing, dressed to kill.
Breathing in my ear to let go, to drop the sand before the last grains leave my hand.
Trapped in an hour glass, with too many cracks, why shouldn’t I tip the scale?

I tip the scale
And watch it
Shatter and scatter
But sadder I sat her
with big rings
Like Saturn

Under these eyes of mine
Her eyes on fire
Ready to burn a hole
In her X-Man like Cyclops.
But she acts like it don't matter

Little Jean's Gray
But she'll rise like the Phoenix.
Not that I'm insensitive to her feelings,
But two depressed suicidals
Should not be together;
In our dream house
But the paint was peeling.

Some days, I wake up
And think the wind's become a typhoon
And whether it's my time to
Die soon.

Have the wind seep in the cracks
Of my skin
And leave me shattered and scattered
like both my prized pride and mood.

So I run,
I run from her

So I run,
I run from me.

My brain screams,
"Catch your breath, take a second".
My heart yells,
"Shit, take two!"

My lungs say
They cant take no more,
And I feel their rebuke

But shit,
Death's looking attractive
In his cheap suit.

Is loving a ghost better then this infatuation with the past.
Wearing memories across my heart like scars from battle.
I keep telling him to slow down, my mind ain't keeping up with the pace.
All we ever wanted was to be together.
Now holding dreams in our back pockets like extra change,
wanting to turn them into something more then fools gold.
Trapped inside this hourglass, watching them turn to rust,
while time seeps through the cracks bringing me closer to this sin.

See, the thing is,
You can only run from your sins
till you buckle and fold
loveless, alone
in the cold winter snow

In the outskirts of town
Passed out
on the dirt road

Like a jagged piece of glass

She says I used her
Like another piece of ass

But that's far from the truth,
I swear to God
I thought I could save her
But it's over
Fade to black

I'm an Aries
Naturally hard headed
And she was a Taurus
Looking back,
All she spoke was bull shit

She was the Beatles
And I was Gang Starr
She was Come Together
And I was Full Clip

I'm stressing
God gave me a blessing
Said "Boy, you take this.
You hide it from the sinners".

And I hid it in plain sight
But lost it
Now all I wanna do
Is survive another winter.
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Friday, March 1, 2013

Garfield and Marmaduke

I felt her stomach,
A little awkward moment passed
Before I asked,
“What am I feeling for here?”.

I jokingly asked her if she was pregnant…
And just then, I could literally read the shame coming off her face.

Growing up,
She used to love reading newspaper comic strips
Preferably, Garfield and Marmaduke.

I remember all the trouble she got in to
Or maybe it was all the trouble she got us through
This goddess who looked me square in the eyes
And told me she was sexually assaulted.

I nearly lost it,
Looking at each other dead in the eyes,
I couldn’t imagine the price that it costed.

Tears welling up in the both of us,
I thought God was supposed to be looking over us
I guess God was too busy looking over us
I guess this black cloud really hung over us.

As a child, she loved reading newspaper comic strips
Especially Garfield and Marmaduke
Now as an adult, she's looking me dead in the eyes
Telling me, “Please don’t tell my mama”,

At the time, I was the only one who knew
Who knew, I’d have to hold up the sky almost overnight?
I still remember when she used to wear her hair in pigtails
And her little over bite.

But today, I’m just a male poet
Trying to write about a pain I’ll never understand
Or fully grasp,
One I’ll never have to worry about
Because I was born a man.

Even now, I don’t know how to properly write
About this girl’s pain
What the Hell do I even say?
That it’s okay?
That Death is already coming to claim
That cold wraith?

But I don’t get angry,
She doesn’t need anger,
Instead, I tell her that she’s brave

And that I’ll be there for her
Every step of the way
And she doesn’t need to feel ashamed.

Now tell me,
What the fuck kind of man needs to resort to rape?
I could say threats
But I’ll save that bravado.

Just know that I made sure that you were just a footnote
As I undid your damage
And helped her fill in her potholes.

But fuck it,
I’m going to threaten anyways,
You better pray to God
Our paths don’t cross Demon

The only reason my brothers and I
Haven’t fucked you up
Is because you’re already dying
And you’re in more pain breathing.

When I was in the 4th grade,
She was in the 2nd;
I used to protect her
From her bullies.

But you can’t always be there
For your own
And I’m now learning that
The hard way.

No, I put my anger aside,
Instead, I tried to help her
Correct the mistake that God made.

I’ve been told if you play God,
You’ll get burned in the process
But for her, I’m ready to be left as charred remains.

Just a male artist,
Writing about a pain he’ll never fully grasp
Now I know how God feels

As she documents our pains,
If you ask me,
God’s been given a raw deal.

And humans were never meant to play God
So we sat there,
Both not knowing what to say…
So I silently left the room

And came back with the newspaper
And together,
We read Garfield and Marmaduke.
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Monday, February 18, 2013

Mama Said 2013

This poem is based off of an older one I wrote when I was younger:

After I graduated High school,
My mama asked me what I wanted to be.
I told her, “Mama
I’ve been giving it some thought
And I don’t want to go to no punk ass university.”.

Instead, I’d rather be a Pokemon master
And train hard so I can win matches
And gym badges and in batches
I’ve been catchin’ Pokemon
And arranging them almost as well
As my syntax is.

Be like, “Bulbasaur,
I choose you!”
I mean I’ll use you
But you better not lose dude
And you better listen to my cues too
Better not let Koffing’s ooze spew
Or it’d be hard to tell who’s who.

Have the ladies,
Fuck it,
Guys too yell
“Apollo! Let us ride on your dick!”

But shit, Rhydon’s are made of stone
They’re not made of bone
So they’re not made to bone
Besides, the thought of fucking a Pokemon
Makes me kind of sick.

But hold up, on the surface,
All may seem well in the Kanto region
But let’s dig deep farther.
See they never told you that Ash Ketchum
Was the son of a deadbeat father.

With nothing but a Mr. Mime as a father figure,
His life was hard and severe
Constantly picked on by the douche bag Gary.

He was always in tears
But he conquered his fears
And set out to make his single mom proud
Till the pressure of that led to his eventual depression.

Luckily, he met Brock and Misty,
Two souls almost as fucked up as he is,
And they let nothing get in the way
Of their mission.

Or mama,
Maybe I’ll be the next herald of Galactus
The Silver Surfer.
I’ll surf though space with nothing but my board
No vessels needed, I want to properly feel the stars.

I won’t feel heat, cold
Won’t eat, no
Or sleep, no
The only thing that matters
Is my master gets his next meal

And he eats planets, so you fuckers
Better watch out
And there’s no stopping him
So it’s best to just deal.

And you don’t want none of this,
See, the power cosmic is an awesome force
I wield one of the galaxies greatest tracking systems
In my head so it’s hard for me to get off course

Now imagine if I applied this to goals.
Can rearrange particles
So I can turn anything to gold
Literally, but I won’t.

Cuz see under the surface,
The Surfer’s story deals
With a tyrant being over thrown
By his servant.

My man Norrin Radd planned it
So his exile would save his
Home planet
It was the only way.

He wasn’t at the helm but he sure manned it
Which led to him having to do
What Galactus demanded.

He unwillingly had a hand in countless genocides,
Had two of his lovers die brutally
And had the love of his life
Hook up with his half brother
Behind his back
But he went through all that shit

And vowed to spend the rest of his life
Saving those in need
Every Tom, Dick, and Josephine.

And I quote, “If die I must—
Let it be as I lived
Soaring swift and silent
Striving for the right
No matter the cost
Let my board and me
Again become as one!
For I must leave
This place of madness!”.

To this, my mom shook her head,
Told me I need to grow up.
In her tone,
I could hear the sadness.

So once more,
Let my board and me
Again become as one….
See, Apollo the Child
Needs to leave this place of madness.

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