Carribean

I just woke from the sickest dream.  It had such a convoluted but simultaneously fun plot.
It was alternate history where this magical black pearl had the ability to give intellect and inventions n shit to people, almost asscreed style. The persian nation sent a ship out in 600 and it crashed off the coast of the aztecs. One aztec guy found the pearl, and the native americans were about as advanced as europeans by 1300. The aztecs became an empire called the Scotorpio Emnutu. Fast forward a little and i was one of the first explorers the aztec sent out to look for the persians, because they'd dug out their ships. The Spanish fleet attacked my ships on the open sea after a few days of sailing but damn the coast and shit looked gorgeous. A few decades later, me and a bud of mine are with morgan freeman (I know he's the actor, but also, he's a real person too). He rescued us from a ship wreck as a kid. He's kinda aristocracy himself, so we studied in this internationally acclaimed college, whose roots go back to the pearl. The Chinese, the middle east, europe, the new world, all of them tried to send their kids here. But afterwards, we weren't aristocracy, so we just worked with morgan freeman as this sopranoesque carribean tax collectors (around 1700s). On one island I run into classmates from the college, which included fucking alice yu. Also I almost got chopped up by this asian restaurant owner who hadn't paid his taxes and had killed the previous tax collectors. I know it was prpgressing somewhere, some run in with the pearl probably, but I woke up at like 4 in the afternoon.

Herron

They said I'm left to my own devices
My own wretched deviancies
My darkest vices
I shoulda done good, given out more niceness
Made more of em laugh
Made that which entices
Left to my own machinations
Complications of mental aggregation
Maybe aggrevation furthering installation
Get it taller, stronger, faster, smaller
Compact your illustration
So you minimize the brush that strokes the nations
I seek out the darkness that veils me
What bales of joy evade me
What hellborn spawn debates me
Incubates my own seeds all purple
Till flowers bloom their roots engrave me
My future I have written
Tragedy, self avoidance, a visage too spitten
Self reflection in broken mirrors
Couplets with no rhythm
Nay I say
Nay like hay for horses of may
The month of life and all that's gay
Shame goes away
Have your fill, have your bravest lay
Open your eyes bathe in the fray
The lilac bath that swoothes this way
Say your ohm say namaste
Joy, for today anyway
Mirth too merry it's worthy of christmas
A cold winter blooms greenest greenness
Sharp contrast with overcast skies
Elves' cries loom with giving keenness
Flying moose and jellied potbelly leave no leanness
I have seen this
Will I see it again?
Will you or he or she or we?
So welcoming of a spring breeze
Than the winter's bite
The crispy nibble of the night
And the violent tearing that speaks blight
I see no further than this.
Worriesome.
What day comes.
Be it gloom or dumb
One of fun. That's a rule of thumb.

Grab The Nearest Thing

Kill me
Why don't you kill me
Why don't you take that knife
You see it there, shining
Glistening in the blood it's soon to be soaked in
Why don't you already kill me?
Would you prefer I turn around
For a stab in back you can get at
Are you left handed, or is it asking too much
Breathe
Calm yourself
Stop your shaking
You'll miss at this rate
Take careful aim now
The weapons right there, the use is known
Go on, the tension's built, they're edging you on
Why don't you kill me?
Why don't you just go slow and cut right through the-
Hg
Ahh. There we go. There you go. And there I go.
Look at your hands.
Caught you redhanded didn't I?
Did I force you? Did you manage it all by your lonesome?
Let it pool now
Feel it drip. It's warm right. Now you know.
Why did you kill me.
Do you know?
Do you know your arm, your hand, your fingers, your drenched fingernails?
Do you really know?

Humanimals

I am 37000 feet in the air travelling 581 miles per hour.
I can see a perfect gradient between the sunrise and the dark of space.
The only light outside is the left wing warning indicator.
Below me is an immeasurable amount of water, and nearly as much life.
Above me, more than 6 times the distance to sea level until the edge of the atmosphere, and not a quarter as much air in it all.
At each side, the sea of clouds make mountains against the horizons light, and it -60 Farenheit.
I sit comfortably.
I exert no effort.
My only complaints are a lack of movement and the absense of silence.
In this most unnatural position I partake in one of the hallmarks of human achievement.
This is commercial flight: the everyday miracle.

Croak

I am but a machine
I am but a machine
I am sinnew and tendon
Muscle and skeleton
I am moved and pumped
Blood and guts
Nerves sprawled out and
Fibrous tissue
I am but a machine
I simply function
I simply am
A mind is not needed
For the heart to beat
For each breath I take
For every eyelid blink
It is auxiliary
It is no more necessary
Than the clothes you see
Just an accessory
Added on unnaturally
I am but a machine
Yet I think of what I am
I do not what I do
I don't know what I do
No more than a driver knows
A car
A plane
A train
A machine
I only guide
With no sense of direction
And a broken compass
Down routes and roads
Too dark to make out
I just want to shout
Shout
Out
Shout

What?
What do I want?
What do I say?
No how and no way
I don't know how or what way
Should I pray? Should I stay?
Should I wait out this day?
The light is over the horizon
That's all I hear
The sun will come out
And the cloud with be silver lined
The river keeps on flowing
And soon I'll shine
But for now
It's dark
And I am but a machine
Ill equipped

Videos That Say We're Alone

I'm so tired of people using this technology to spread the word about how technology leaves us more stranded. 
If anything it's a bit heavy handed
I don't know if they don't realize it and are actually candid
They'd throw away my phone cause they've already banned it
I can connect to old friends I'd almost forgotten
Haven't seen the changes and achievements they've gotten
But I can catch up with them and see where they're trottin
And ask about stories whose videos they've shot and
Pictures they took and memories they've made
But oh no oh god how dare I, they've forbade
Its use for expansion of friends and foundations laid
Acting like there's never been a time in the past when people were alone
When they woke up and slept where the sun never shone
And had the feelings malaise and tiredness to the bone
With friends who were almost there in their vision cone
Face to face chitchat and smalltalk aren't a tome
You're not using the tech right if your mind hasn't grown
With a conversation over facebook or on a phone
How dare you close your eyes and not see
That in the people talking who're the point of vitality
The technology doesn't make a difference to me
Letters, newspapers, herald yellers, all came on trees
then we moved forward to phones and electricity
With it being used well and informatively
And used for bullshit that'd be taking a pee
So get with the times, understand 
that we just have bigger soapboxes to stand
on and to jump and yell and ask for a hand
And complain about having nowhere to crashland
As the loss of friends makes you feel like you were canned
Packed away forgotten, drifted away in the sand
Realize, the fact that your voice can be heard
All the heartwarming stories off the editor's desk would be cleared
The pictures of humans that would all just be sheared
And access to history that's both respected and leered
That info can't be hidden if by those in power it's feared
If the ugly head of reality is reared in a matter of weeks it's easily speared
That we're too young, we need to learn to use it
Cause this thing right here? It needs to be cheered.

Poem: Antioxidants

We were young but we were plastered
We hadn't yet mastered
The art of going after
The girl that we want
Or the goal that we see
Swinging in the wind
Just outside your reach
Clench your fist make will to clasp your dreams
Like you're last man standing and they killed your team
Gotta get on up out the house out the city
Make a bitty, go and make a young girl pretty
Pretty hot sexy  what's that mean what's that say?
Ratchet cust skanky whatchu braying out today?
Take another shot, put on tv, never stop
Eating bullshit sucking more dick watching panties drop
Motherfucker realize that you're not yourself
Hang that faggot in your room with your dad's belt
Recreate the revolution that gave us our freedom
Cause they taking it from us through IV don't feed em
The monster's grown already we can't kill it cant stop it
The bigger they are the harder they fall, on that topic
Where do they fall, if they the size of countries
How many get crushed for us to make our dreams
No just rip the chord, house this necessary evil
In the kennel outside, leashed, be don cheadle
Make the terror your bitch, use to create again
Until it's small enough that its starved life just ends
The violent rapist that infested the general population
That reaped more devastation
Than civil wars tear nations
That shat on more livelihoods
Than pidgeons in rich neighborhoods
That ignored more misery than a subway through the inner city
Or better yet the urban youth
The universally known and forgotten truth
That the more you have the more you have to lose
So to keep your swag safe you descend to recluse
Into the gated community where all you see
Is the community watch telling you you're free
And surveillance van saying it's not for you
It's for trespassers getting near your kids school
Don't fool yourself into thinking you they protect and serve
When the law they uphold they tend to swerve
And write and rewrite as they see just
And all complainers are just making a fuss
It's a brave new world
And these bastards get braver
Every day they reinforce that we're givers they're takers
Till one day we realize we're their spies
And we're also the boogeyman that comes at night
They make thought the boogeyman that comes at night.
~ Prophit

Comedy: Dick Diaries

Hows it going hows it going, nice crowd tonight.
Im gonna keep the material light, keep it funny tonight, nothing too mature or dirty. Alright alright.
So have you noticed how most nouns we use to describe how cool something is does not work for describing a penis?
Lets start off with the easy ones.
-My dick is HOT!
-ey man I dont need to know you got crabs or something

-My dick is DOPE!
-So what, you got like a limp dick? It's white and powdery? Crack heads love it?

-nah nigga my dick is the shit!
-so like, did you not clean up after anal or... are you implying your penis is an actual literal piece of frozen turd. Cause like, the shape works, ill give you that but... its a bit unsanitary.

-No no b, My dick is off, tha, chain.
-What the hell?! What kind of fetishist are you motherfucker?

-nah homes, my dick is off tha hook!
-the fuck did I just say

-ey man, My dick is tight!
Hey man, what, like your foreskin?
Nah man, like my dick is tight butthole!
K im done.
No no that was me, im done with that segment of the set. Off to something a bit more, classy.
Now the slang you CAN use to describe your dick boys, is this. And ladies, my beautiful ladies, dont think ive forgotten the vagina. Y'all can use any of the above and your guy will like it, hot, dope, rad, off the hook, mad, tight butthole.

so yeah, guys, dont use descriptive nouns, use adjectives plus something.
My dick is mad thick, my dick is bare long, my dick is wicked huge. See?
I should start a show or something, just call it "Reading Dickbro"

Essay: On Black

What a brilliant colour black is. What an imperceptibly magnificent rarity this deficiency is. The absence. The lack thereof. The definition of the abyss, of the eternity which rests beneath the surface of impenetrable opaqueness. Truly, the very definition of black is that which absorbs all light, all brightness and luminosity and candlelight and leaves you in a world in which only your mind exists. That which eats up all those rays hoping to lay a blanket of brightness over the unseen, give vision to the blind; hoping to expand and put forth an image of variance and texture and size, saturation and a whole spectrum of light, a veritable Rosetta stone in itself, allowing communication between people centuries apart. 

Doesn’t that excite you? The possibility that the absolute destruction, for most of us, of the most essential building blocks of information is a simple flick of the switch, a covering or two, a tent, away? Isn’t that why we try to tame it as our plaything? Teeming at its very edge, ever peering into it, but we try to escape it whenever it becomes too big, too overbearing or overwhelming. Oh, mediocre, abstract understanding of shape and form! What an ideal construct to hide those things shameful to us. Necessity to reach out and grasp, measure and compare, all of which at a distance become blurrings of the artificial lines of categorization. Fascinating isn’t it. 

But one coverage too much and the set in of fear overtakes you. The black bag over your head, the blotting out of the sun by the earth, the possibility of danger lurking not around the corner, but in front of your very face, the absence of communication of information of any kind. Well, not any kind, just those kinds we use the most, we rely on absolutely, concretely, clear as day and crystal, with our own two eyes, eye-witness to the falsity of illusion. And even there, even in our meager attempts at domesticating this wildness, this imperfect perfection, the thousands of which I simply can’t have enough paper to state, even in that, isn’t there the lack of ability? The weakness of human capability, its utmost limitations coming ironically most to light in attempts to recreate the ephemeral lacktitude. 

Fundamental absence is ever escapable to our touch, but touching the corners of the mind. Grey, onyx, obsidian, ashen, smoky, cloudy, shaded. All demonstrating the feeble attempts we take at recreating that beauty with our own hands. For any ray, any crack, any window or reflection or sheer temperature will shatter that manmade idol in an instant, casting shadows in shadows, an overlap of veils that never truly cover. For shame, that with all our fascination with making the depths of nothing into our own we can truly accomplish naught. Yet, it exists. We know it exists, we all do. Lurking at the edge of infinity, just beyond the peripheral vision of humanity it exists, prowling, giving you that sense of unease when you’re alone, reminding you of your vulnerability. The necessity to shine a light into every corner, to reduce the grasp and reach of the construct and contain it as much as possible. 

Take a moment, think about it. It’s right there, behind you, between your shoulder blades, reaching down. You know it, you can feel it with the only sense capable of escaping it when your vision’s robbed. Look at the shadows around you, looks at the depth you can see, what beyond? What’s outside of your field of vision, what’s there when you can’t see it? We both know don’t we? Humanity’s bane, the greatest fear, the thing we try to kill, for it would drive us to the brink of madness and isolation, creating a separation of sizes unfeasible to imagine in inches. Even those futures in which we see humans having powers beyond belief, and control over life and death and other humans, unbelievable leverage, the main ideal is light. Brightness, whiteness, no dirt in sight, no shadows to hide in. The ultimate in human power is control over contrast. Fascinating. Simply so.