the mission?

I put the round in, hell I know I did
But sometimes I forget things and the only way to know for sure is to shoot the damn thing off
I have no time to check for more ammo
not in this situation
and these buggers keep swooping in from the air
my pulse must be 250, way off the chart
the adrenaline mixed with the fuel of antihistamines
I can handle this shit
just gotta make sure that when i shoot this thing, it actually works
I think about it a lot
and I forgot what I thought as the beast swoops in
I let off a shot
one that would hit it in the head
but it's a dud, it's a goddamn flare gun
dammit
now all I have to do is sit here and pray
and hope this beast doesn't take the jugular out of my throat
i bow down, missing it's gigantic swing
where's Kyle? where's the goddamn backup?
everything seems so surreal
how did i get up here?
what the hell is this thing?
and why am i even apart of this venture?

"to save lives"

hell, i gotta save my own first
i speak into my shoulder "where the hell is Kyle and EVAC?"
a mumbled tone, no answer
"they're everywhere" a voice shouts and then a gushing silence
i could actually hear his vertebrae hit the floor

goddammit, so this is how it's gonna end eh, I talk to myself
well, we better make it for the cause
and the beast swoops down again, teasing me, like a cat to a mouse
it knows that I don't have a chance, but if I jump, I could make it
no I won't, that's just blasphemy
but what is the other choice?
get eaten alive, or head injury as i fall into the water

i see Kyle waving behind me
"get the fuck out of there"

"no shit"
I look at the bridge falling apart and I start running
it feels as though every step I take, more bridge is falling into the darkness
with my last ounce of strength, I jump and grab the rock, slipping
and there's Kyle with his arm stretched out
I just have to reach and I'll be fine, and my hand meets his
there's no turning back for the others, they have to take their own chances

we get in the car and drive fast North
the beast forebodes back into it's cave
the blood on my arms is dry now
Kyle looks at me shocked
"we're the only two that survived"

"but what about Nicks and Nolton"
I ask, glaringly. They were my friends.
Kyle shakes his head, "they were attacked at the gates by the beasts"
but these beasts were human once, mixed genetic DNA
a real life Dr.Moreau
and I look in the side rear view mirror
looking for anything behind me
and I see Nicks and Nolton
and I think, nothing, I think about nothing

and the car hits a puddle
splashing dirt in my face
the only shower i would have for the week
and there's Nick and Nolton

they never had a chance.

so long ago

We walk together alone

in the muddy rain, you're never there

i need a reason to live

i need a reason for you

can you help me get there?

help me get to play?

i wanna be the one

please let me be the one

the blood on the mantle

all my fault, my love

keep me sedated 

i need your love

tearing out my heart with every breath you take

let me just be, let me just understand

the way that it should be, the way it's meant to be

the way you're lost in my mind

can you help me get there?

help me get to play?

i wanna be the one

please let me be the one

we sit together, hand in hand

like two love birds in an ocean of time

you fly away so long ago, leaving me behind

i won't, i will never forget that day

flowers won't do and no kisses of love

get back to the gutter where you left me

so long ago, you probably forgot

now, i don't need your love, i just need me.

can you help me get there?

help me get to play?

i wanna be the one 

please let me be the one

masturbation

let's get down to brass tacks here

you know what you want in a mate

but still you drone on about how you can never find one

stop bitching to your friends and get out there

meet mister or miss wonderful, nothing is stopping you

oh wait

maturbation

your forgot about that didn't you?

it's cheaper than a movie and the time spent in a restaurant

mastur-fucking-bation

capital fucking

mastur-FUCKING-bation

that's why you sit at home on Fridays

just to get that sweet taste of little ole two fingers or the hole in your hand

you don't have to talk about it afterwards

it never gets awkward and the feeling is similar

but not the same. 

awwww shucks

you don't feel that release in your calve muscles

nor the sweat dripping everywhere

you can't dress up your hand in a sexual costume

or feel the release that the pumping ensues

you just let it drip

sometimes on your bed

sometimes on the floor

sometimes standing up

mastur-FUCKING-bation

you're doing it now and you don't even realize it

masturbation of the mind

jerk out a book to read

or a moment in time

but find that mate

and save the ole mighty masturbation til Wednesday

when he or she is late for dinner

and the soups getting cold

and they don't get home til 5

you bought the toy. now use it

a sacrifice to silicon

three words

mastur-FUCKING-bation

nighty nighty

syllables *rap*

we gonna break down some syllables here
cuz we gangster sh-- break it down like that
what you gonna say to yo girl tonight
i never touched that sh--, i never touched that sh--

she knows you be lying
she can smell the fear
"i gonna hit you backhand
you lying, cheating deer"

ma baby starts chasing me with a spoon
"gonna break yo spine, you silly buffoon"
i only hit it once, baby, i tell you its true
"then you f---ed with the booze and that ho, you know who"

shit, i think, she's got me now
"i never meant to, she was up in my grill"
"you still did it, why'd you do it for"
i thought you'd understand, I thought you cared

(now this is where it really gets apeshit, cue monologue)

you motherf---ing son of bit-- goddamn, i don't even what you say to them, i'm gonna chain you to the f---ing bed, then i'm gonna break whatever goddamn knows, and for what, no really for what. Some booze and pot and that hoe i know. I'm gonna twist on yo balls, unscrew them if I can. Gonna call up my brother from south central and he gonna come here with his sword and his sheath, and he gonna tell you what the f--- i mean. So, if you wanna keep yo self, get the f--- outta here, on a train going far out, in the clear.

i never seen her  like this before
i pack all my junk and i leave out the door
it wasn't my fault I hope you understand
but pot, puss and patron can break a little weak man


-the PPP surveillance squad

thistowntoday

This town, this place
It's not New York,
It's not LA
It's not goddamn Chicago

so what are we supposed to to?
we settle, we live where the water from the tap is somewhat clean
and the grocery store is only 10 minutes away
comfort

I've been working by reading, this knowledge will last forever
unlike some 9 to 5 job where you're aching for a promotion in a sea of sad faces, beaten up, sore
but that promotion never comes, unless it's coming from the new intern that gets promoted in two weeks, bent over on all fours by "management"
can it be anymore realistic?

you bring the heat?
of course you have, if you know what that means

in the art world, if you can produce significantly and approach your target market with every month/day/week, than maybe you can make more money, and if you sell something in a studio, don't fuck with your gift, add an extra zero on it and make it look presentable. And paint those fucking walls white.

this is what I've learnt. from about a week of research into the minds that are unlike mine. I barricade myself in doors, buying cheap cigarettes and making show for the locals getting shwarma or whatever the fuck.

This place will destroy me, if it hasn't already. So make a story about that kiddies or write a poem. I hope I have inspired you to do such a thing. Make character, break roles and close your eyes when you speak into the microphone because the fire will break in the night and you, my friend, will break on through.

God-awfully known as,

Gregorian Gilford Getting-there, man!

the senses

the senses

we take all five for granted

what if?
what if?
what if we couldn't smell the scent around us?
the air??
the gasoline in a car, the oil and filter change?
the roses? petunias and more?
something smelt could save your life
a gas stove leaking into the room as you light your cigarette.

what if you...?
what if you...?
what if you couldn't taste,
something awful, just no taste
a taste of no taste
what would that taste like?
a tongue to taste the words coming out of your mouth
without taste, we cannot speak or enjoy
that glass of wine
gummy worms
tastebuds

how about?
how about?
how about if you couldn't feel?
that would be interesting
just like a blob
gravity holds you but you do not feel around
space suits, zero gravity
how about feelings?
can you cry? can you laugh?
can you give up your feelings?

do you hear me?
if you know what I mean
you can't hear someone behind you
or a horn honking that crashes into you
can you hear the noise outside?
can you even hear the thoughts inside your head?
hearing to find the truth?
can you live without hearing?

see?
do you see now?
it's as vital as all five senses
what happens if you can't see
nothing to look at, blind
scared, you hear well but you can't see
were you born like that? or was it a freight train accident?
can you see me?

can you hear me?
can you touch?
can you see me?
what is that smell?
dinner tastes nice.

what could you do without your five senses

as born as they are

can they disappear just as easily?

chisel

In the streets of a land closely resembled to ours
lives a creature who creates art through the rock
he chisels it every day, just like the ones of his peers and before them
he doesn't ask questions
like who or as or why
he just chisels and chisels til his hands get numb
he doesn't know what art is, or that it even exists
but there he goes, working away at something unknown and at peace
his wife she lives with him in the rock,
she builds him new ways to chisel the rock
his friends stop by for some water and meat
and are mesmerized by what he has completed
he teaches them the craft
how to chisel the rock and the way it's meant to be for a Neanderthal law
he works mighty fast and his friends stay in the rock over night
it's brilliance and life all in a wife's pick and an artists presence
would anyone see this
besides his friends and wife
that's why he must teach them
to make craft from a dime on the head of the sunset lounge, behold
it's scripture he calls it, but he doesn't really know
his friends call them shapes, something they learned from a decade ago
the first real language to communicate from, in the lands of depth and rock
the friends  go hunt, it's in their nature to do so
they bring back food
as the artist chisel the words in his mind, what he sees in his dreams, what they speak of
the wife is plentiful, making chisels for her man
he just fixes the form as best as he can
then more friends appear and they begin chiseling
unbeknownst they know, they have created an alphabet
they bop each others heads together, the pain makes them laugh
these neanderthal people have created a mass of information,
an ancient holodex
of the words we use today
bet you remember them now.

when you speak the truth
you will always get found.