Bop and Weave

Edited the poem twice so far, felt there was parts that dragged it. I feel its more fluid like now. Break ups suck.

There’s a fire in my stomach

And a weight on my chest

Blood in my throat

And pain in my neck

When we met, she had pretty lips,

Button nose, and large eyes,

Where I swear, stars hide

Masking her hard life.

She was hunger pains

And I was her pair of slit wrists;

It’s the nature of the beast.

The nature of my disease,

Display it in microfiche

Impatient the darkness pleads

So it can depart released.

She folds her cards,

I fold her origami

We were both broken folks,

I’m on the ropes,

And she attacks with the force of Ali.

Bop and weave,

Bop and weave,

You got no time to stop and grieve

Lost in these

Oddities

You have no time to stop and breathe

See, she was a damsel in distress

And I was her beast with three heads

Who reels in regrets,

Reveals his defects

Who needs a recess

And fiends a reset

Of peace when we met.

She was my guest of honour

And I was happily

Her Thanksgiving Turkey

Carve me,

Harm me,

Fifteen slices on three

 I’m her zombie

Whose heart is off beat

And as black as her coffee.

So here,

Take these razor blades and play

The violin on my heart strings

Of all the pretty dark things

Knitting their sharp jinx.

I’m hurtin’ bad,

Covered in purple scabs

I heard her laugh

And cursed the past

Travelling the Wordsmith path,

Trying to find the purpose that purpose has

But

No laughing, what?

Pass the buck

And drink a cup of dragon’s blood

A maso-cust with graphic cuffs

And bastard’s luck

Drunk

Off caffeine cups.

She was Gabe’s trumpet

And I a fly of Beelzebub,

Who fiends this love

To feel its buzz

And weaned off lust,

Screamed and fussed,

The pieces lost

To feed the thoughts

Of how

He’s a nut!

Friends telling me

“Dude, just paint a smile on”

The silence born and living well

Revealing our fears.

With kindness gone,

We try to soar,

No this aint Hell,

But you can see it from here.

And I’m going through withdrawals,

See I put it all on the line

And won’t hang up till Cthulu calls.

A porcelain doll

                Vs.

A puppet on a toy train

Weeping, depressed

With no one to pull his strings

Watch me

Sleep in my mess.

My God she was a pagan goddess

And I her burnt offering dude

I call for you,

And the awful truth,

Is what I did, do, and done

Was all for you.

Still feeling inadequately adequate,

Let’s pick at our tips till our fingers trail blood.

See this?

This is reminiscent of Slick Rick’s Teenage Love

But I know pain,

And I know pain

And sometimes

I share it with someone like you.

The embodiment of perfection,

“Sorry…” she says,

“Just try to remember, it’s not you…”

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My September

It's been a bad month. New format though recommended by a colleague, the poem is just as long as they usually were but now it seems to flow better. Enjoy.

I watch as the cold air crept in,

Swept in,

A feeling more familiar than my best friend.

Inhale all the stress in my breast and

Lie in between the questions

And lessons.

Better hold your tongue,

Better yet,

Let it go.

Cuz sometimes things are better said.

And try to keep a level head

As you embark to kill the devil dead.

I heard God fed her dead,

And told them tales of how we lost it young.

And the apostles sung

Of all the awful monks,

Letting the sun burn their frost bit tongues.

But I know

That first hand,

There aint a mouth

Without a foot in it

But God knows.

Stumbling on the potholes

Of the cosmos, a lost soul

Making deals at the crossroads.

Going against massive odds,

A clown in Oz,

A fool with a crown of bronze

Masked and all.

Trying to find hope

In his passive doll,

An everlasting fall.

See,

You gotta take some X’s in this game of tic tac toes.

I’ll admit I’ll fold,

If I feel like I’ve been dealt a bad hand.

Watch my climax unfold,

Cars might explode.

(You know, like them old action movies)

Anyways,

I’m hundred percent pure insecure.

Watch me turn my misery into art,

Or whatever else I make of it,

Whether a fateful wish

Or a hateful fist.

Ceramic wrap your head around this

Till you’re breathing heavy

And bleeding plenty.

Till we’re both acting extremely petty

And feeling empty.

Keeping steady,

As we do our little dance with the Devil as our instructor,

Harmless.

At least you’ll know where this honest artist’s heart is.

Caught in between,

Where the rocks are hardest.

Hardened,

Writing cuz it’s cathartic.

Cuz my days have been colder than the arctic.

Lethargic,

Standing in the middle of that biblical sea that Moses parted.

Let the little dogs bark,

They’re just mad they’re bitches,

Getting too big for britches.

Tell them to get the Hell out

Cuz it’s getting too hot

In this kitchen.

Let my eulogy be a reading of all the love letters I wrote.

Imbed it in hope

And my tomb stone cuz we all die it’s regrettably so.

Point at the golden casket,

It’s his fault.

Point at the hopeless pasture,

It’s his fault.

Point at the broken bastard,

It’s his fault.

Point at the sky,

It’s his fault.

Throw them looks in the mirror

As you tell me what shapes them clouds look like.

Reading your laugh lines under a book light,

How you spread those wax wings and took flight.

I might plan it

So I’ll wave goodbye as I ride the Titanic.

The right planet,

Continues to revolve as its life’s damaged.

Careful,

We might panic.

But we weren’t made to quit,

Like all the aimless did,

At least not until we’re famous rich.

So jump,

Jump into the flaming pit.

As our little black cloud

Turns rain to spit.

Dreamed till I woke,

Screamed till I choked.

Buck naked bathing in the red embers

Plead till I croaked,

See disease needs a host.

And that’s how I spent my last September.

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A Life In Progress

This poem was the hardest to write but alas, I managed to get through it. I was debating on whether or not to post it but my girlfriend is amazing....so I did :).

The wrists scream and the veins obey, since sixteen, I’ve been afraid
Just a thin freak that spends his days in sheets trying to mend his grace
In many ways, these sins I face, will one day get me to Heavens gates
Looking for better days, I’ll enter as a renegade who mitigates
The situation at hand…it’s been a life in progress, a night in coffins
Trying not to let those thoughts in, I fight’em off while wondering where God went
Where God went, I wonder where God went? How long will he be gone?
Gotta focus on my concepts as I’m slowly singing my songs but it all goes wrong
I get the feeling he’s late, watching angels dance on the head of the blade
Reminding me of days when I used to get ostracized by the rest of the grade
Thrown in the brig, forced to live his school days as a troll under the bridge
Control is a bitch, holding the switch flipping it off and on knowing I’m sick
Call the apothecary; I’m forced to write a life where the plot is scary
Plus I piss in a pot I carry, living a life where the plot is scary
A lot’ll vary but at least it beats starring in a film by Tyler Perry
But when bills come, I feel like an easy chick that just dropped her panties
No disrespect to the ladies but it’s half your fault I’m here in the first place
Loneliness was the worst case scenarios of hurt came, why am I here in the first place?
Been told to go to Hell so many times, I smile and respond with a “funny,
At least where I’m going, it’s always sunny and the demons love me
And my stomachs always hungry, no different from Earth my little lovely
But at least, here, these Hell spawn won’t wear masks when trying to take something from me”
Some nights, I swear I could smell my flesh burn, yes sir, living as a blessed cur
Yes sir, and I’m not waking till I learn how this bed works, yearning for Death’s cure
Caught in cautious caution’s conscience gosh its contents got us unhappily smilin’
So we have to be wilin’, wear our masks and be silent, I bask in defiance
As an odd ball waiting for God’s call, I used to have a drive but it got stalled
Hiding my skeletons in my closet with the moth balls, thinking it’s a lost cause
The throat aches and the palms are sweaty; I carried this weight till it got too heavy
I bury the taste with a Gothic medley weary of where my thoughts might get me
Thank God for Hip Hop and comics, both of which were used for escapism
A world where the freak got the girl and I’ve always been a slave to the rhythm
Burning bridges till I had to cross’em and I can’t swim so I drown in my sorrows
Cursed with women and was ostracized for some time cuz of the path I followed
And I wonder why? See, I almost cut life but decided to give it another try
And let the caterpillars in my stomach develop into beautiful butterfliesTweet

A Smiling Satan

Its been a long time, I shouldn't left you without a strong rhyme to step to

Satan smiles defiles savin, reconciles the sire’s wasteland

Up in isles, the fires we facin met denials of the lost and wasted

The cost was amazing, constantly dodging life’s bullets like Keanu Reeves

Lost to the Martix where black and white only coexist in piano keys

Pull it while it’s trying to leave, never kissed brown but Brown, Chris while Rihanna pleads

You know my steeze, the style with ease in a pile of fiends we aligned with thieves

We aligned with thieves trying to find our peace but our sighs released the signs of grief

The science of grieves and the violence of peace commingle to mangle the heart on our sleeves

But see, I ain’t political but if I ever met Harper I’d ask him about his dick size

Cuz he must be over compensating for something the way he wields these big lies

Still, with no insurance, we took the “common” out of common courtesy

Trying to drink up knowledge’s truth serum with every quart I see

On a course I weave trying my best to bring order to every court I see

Of course I’ll plead, watching roses wilt cuz they haven’t been watered in many days

But it really doesn’t matter because my baby loves daisies anyways

A heavy weight who weighs one-eighty-five in lips alone trying to grip the throne

Kill the king, pimp slap the prince while trying to kiss a stone, I missed my show

But the wind will blow past a winking innocence, singing in a fence

Sinking in my ship, thinking “this is it” but knowing I ain’t missing this

Oh how the sea was open, offering myself up to the queen of oceans

Cuz it seems it’s hopeless, where you can’t get the keys of life but the keys of dope and

With ease my opus needs my focus lovin livin livin livid

As an unhip hipster, the world’s funnest straight-edge, I stay dead livin timid

Thinking what I ain’t said swimming in a grave bed; I face debt while living in it

Used to refuse smiles, used to the noose wild, but I got a muse now, I’m grinnin

From ear to ear like the Joker but the truth is, even he can be sane sometimes

I’m sustained in punchlines, she’s a saint who done time in Hell but escaped the confines

My angel with a nose wrinkle, here to shower me with enough blessings

But I’m off topic; I was supposed to be asking all the tough questions

Like, why are our souls so empty? How come Fox’s media is so offending?

Mr. Jamaal, how the hell are you so trending?! But alas, I’m lost and antsy

And so our lives have become the equivalency of an unraked pile of leaves

So here we are, constantly dodging life’s bullets like Keanu Reeves

Up in isles, the fires we facin met denials of lost and wasted

Reconciling pyres in wastelands to up the styles of a smiling Satan

..............Yes I have succumbed to the "Matrix" reference :PTweet

Speak! Performances (Masked Monkeys, Ice Falls, Life is Like)

Watch all three pieces I did at Ottawa's biggest and best coffee house Speak! Yeah, if you didnt come then you guys missed out on a good ass show. Alas, all is not lost, here are my performances! I better see you at the next one! Love and thanks goes out to Graeme "Loh El" O'Farrell for doing the camera work. For more poetry hit up http://www.youtube.com/user/EzraPoundLives 

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Ever Wonder What My First Performance Sounded Like?

If you have then here it is. The first two poems I've ever performed... Came a long way since then. Enjoy, as this is kinda embarrassing for me to watch!

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Angel Wings

Dedicate this to catharsis....

Have you ever seen an angel who cut both her wings off with her own hands?
So damned, mad at God cuz she figured out the bearded old man’s whole plan
She fell to live amongst man, around the time when I was lost believing nothin’
Lost and in need of lovin’, lost in my mother’s regular topic of discussion
“Lowlife”, “deadbeat” all for pursuing a form of art instead of a degree
So I decree, I’m never gonna stop and I’m making that into a creed
Mama, please forgive me cuz I’m gonna put my dream in an animation state
So suspended, you’d swear they were striking at Disney, competition please forgive me
Cuz if you try to get in my way then I’m chopping you down to mince meat
God please forgive me, I’m hoping one day you’ll finally be able to kiss me
See, I’m thinking of callin it quits, the hole in my heart has become a bottomless pit
Lost in a kiss and harmin’ its lips, caught in a fit in a garden of cists
But a Rombough once said that my art didn’t define me, I define my art
And I took that line to heart, in a rat race amongst all the lions and sharks
Where my demise is imminent, televised live on internet tellin’ lies
Of a little kid, I made this bed but I won’t lie, I’ll swim in it
Carving a crown of thorns into my own chest to remember how love aches
Sittin’ in a levee making mud cakes chanting “Someone release the flood gates!”
Cuz down here we all float, doctor or bum, don’t matter, we all drown the same way
And ultimately, in the end, we’re all slowly rushing towards the same fate
Save grace or save face, you can’t do both lose hope cuz we’re all living for the next day
A pawn facing a king can only be found in a chess game and it gets lame
Living for the city, I’ll be the first to admit, it gets sorta silly
When you find that I did all of this to get my slice of pie with expired filling
Cuz I don’t need to own a treasured whip, all I need is a clever quip
And I’ll treasure this equipped with metal fists, revel this cuz the pebble fits
Despite popular belief, this isn’t a poem about following your dreams
It’s more about how you maintain it when it starts to come apart at the seams
Trying to kiss an angel but it might be fatal, stealing light from her halo
Sinking in the same boat, I find hope is found at the end of a rainbowTweet

Cement Shoes

Really don't know what to say about this one, I basically just let my emotions guide the pen. It should come with no surprise though, seeing how there's a heavy emphasis on emotions in this poem. Watch me dance with cement shoes on!

Tell em they can’t walk in my shoes cuz my souls are worn out living in a present past

Training myself to put my worst foot forward first so I can save the best for last

An impressive cat that learned early on in life never to resent its laps

And to this day the lesson last see I have this tendency to talk first & listen last

A motor mouth who soldiered out, living in his motor house

Trying to sort it out, I thought it out still missing what it’s all about

Missing what it’s all about so tell those two self righteous poets, I don’t need them to like me

So they can go to Hell cuz I’ve been there & back & that’s where I learned to be young & feisty

And how I learned to spit with a thirst so raw that it can’t be quenched with just any iced tea

So tell God to Skype me unless I’m crazy and I very well just might be

Tell those two self righteous poets that we never needed to be friends

Cuz when you lost it you find better company with the voices in your head

But they’ll remain nameless cuz I could talk so much s*** but my stomach would get upset

Then to win it back, I’d have to apologise for all the mean things I said

With my knees on the gravel, I’ll grovel to Gravol, still pass the paper

Cuz ever since I dropped out, this rascal’s major has been to draft a paper

That’ll historically rival Pascal’s wager but the future has more to see

And with zero potency, I’ll try to live on through my emo poetry

Singing my heart break to my crush like 

You be the princess,

I’ll be your monster

Have you met your prince yet? 
Could he be your martyr? 
I bet he ain’t artistic

Aimlessly I’ll wander, 
I wanna taste your lipstick
Instead I’m left with heart hurt

But she’ll turn away cuz I’m not much of a singer, still I’m singing harder

Till my tonsils sore, the Child’s missing the good old days of the console wars

If only Sega knew, if only Sega knew exactly what’s in store

But alas, we’re both obsolete, two 16 bit souls in a Black Ops age

And from what I hear, PlayStation’s all the rage I fall from grace, far from safe

So I draw blood to draw guns to draw love on a pad armed with crayons

The day’s long, feeling right at home with the blues & the paper I create on

My feelings are right at home, the resent, the reject, & my personal lament

Tell em they can’t walk in my shoes cuz these shoes are custom made of cement

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