catharcyst

2008-07-02T12:17:00.000-07:00

A burst of applause

for fond cole

my birth grip slipping
my dalliance jaded

words twist me
I blame soul sometimes

for fond cole
blood songs

my birth crime
breathing

2008-06-24T19:53:00.000-07:00

killin time is me hollering in a poetic shake.

2008-06-21T11:23:00.000-07:00

after a long hiatus a new spoken word from yours truly. calamity souls

2008-06-15T13:18:00.000-07:00

Killing Time

Why kill time
when sweet dreams beckon?

Why chase the day into twilight?

Why prognosticate?

Why be awakened
to be mortal?

2008-06-05T10:19:00.000-07:00

Bodhisattva's End

Soul takes flight
A fire died
Silence saved
Another silent seeding

2008-05-26T15:39:00.001-07:00

The Extraction

The way time tagged me
is beyond my devices.
Art chose me to collide
in the mortal corridor
I stained the mirror red
Love taught me God
Life happened along to divide
I carved dawn from twilight
extracting the soul shimmer
and divine quintessence

2008-05-11T12:38:00.000-07:00

Calamity Souls

they infect words with shadows

they are blood scribes
the calamity harbingers

network chameleons
seeding malaise

they moan and lust
for dog day drama

masturbating
when the swords are drawn

2008-04-22T07:53:00.000-07:00

Digital Puke

He jettisoned from the net forever. They killed his Avatar somewhere in the out world of second life when the World of War craft hordes came calling for him to invoke the infocalypse.

When I met him on the train he was almost pwned. The Debian tattoo throbbing beneath his cheek identified him as geek godfather. Those misshapen eyes represented the last of the best cyberpunk warriors operating on the old net. His frazzled appearance on this train could only mean one thing. The countdown to the infocalypse had been triggered.

“We don't have time,” I said to him. He gave me the nano disc as the first spasms rocked his slim frail body. Fear dripped from his eyes as he waited for my antidote. It came in the form of a script I had written on one of those nights when sleep is a mere distraction in the grander scheme of things. It was the most beautiful code I had ever written. It was also the most dangerous.

He copied it quickly into his handheld that magically appeared out of a geek pocket. I tensed when I saw it. Possession of that technology meant that you were either the most wanted black hat or an agent in the highly feared world's cyber division. He looked like neither with his hands trembling over the keyboard as he ran a series of tests on my script.

“This is not a quick fix,” I said. He nodded understanding. “My code will reverse engineer the first part of their Trojan. You will have about ten minutes to puke it all out. Only the spam bots will come out. You will have to hack your own dreams to find the source code and delete it.”

He smiled for the first time revealing the designer teeth of true deep net junkies. There were only a few shops on the planet where you could get these specialized encrypted jobs done. The teeth hooked you straight into the Metaverse on the fastest internet connection not even the richest man on earth could afford. It was all about trust and skill and nothing else.

Another spasm rocked him. I nodded for him to begin the compiling of my code. It would either fry his mind or free him. He hissed when the wifi connection of his teeth jacked into the handheld. There was a moment of suspended digital animation and then he hit enter on the keyboard.

He screamed beyond terrifying. It was the most inhuman sound I have ever heard. It penetrated deeper than I ever wanted life to. It sounded like death itself finally triumphant over the last vestiges of our fragile stubborn existence.

“Damn damn damn man. Shit what the hell is happening to you man?”

He answered with more screams and retching except nothing was coming out.

“Talk to me man, talk to me soldier!”

“They got him good huh?”

“What what the hell? I whirled around. A frail man stood there with the eyes of Einstein.

“You are so right man,” he quipped. “He's got their hell inside for sure.”

“What the hell are you?” What are you talking about?”

“We are their slaves now. We are the tech indentured servants man.”

“Stop talking bullshit man the infocalypse has not started yet. They need his brain.”

“Alright,” he said opening an identical handheld like my screaming friend's own. “Come and see for yourself.”

I saw but still wouldn't believe. My primitive brain refused to even consider what I was seeing on the screen. It was at once beautiful and terrifying. I gasped and shuddered as I witnessed the fateful reprogramming of the human interface.

2008-04-03T05:36:00.000-07:00

of ink and man

the first poets were free
until ink stained flesh
on mortal canvasses
of the eden delight.

2008-03-29T10:58:00.000-07:00

Home Next To The Exit

I was forever
when home shimmered
beneath the morning star

Now home rides
next to the exit
of every last instant

2008-03-22T10:22:00.000-07:00

Am Always Coming Out To The City

something in my genes
compels me to count the letters
of the words in my eye
shackles me to tired information
bleeds the adjective
even before my mind speaks

something borrowed
garbled hip hop language
am always coming out to the city
before the beat knocks on the door.

2008-03-11T08:37:00.000-07:00

The Strangest Life

The man pulls 5am awake. I have beaten him by six breaths. The others are oblivious of our haunting.
I stretch and ignite. Fire for rebirth. Subterranean winter chill.

They try to feed me earth balls to ward of winter chills in the underground. Subterranean epiphany. By seven am out in the world chasing my future before it falls apart. Math can’t save me but I have to try.

The J train crawls toward the symbiotic throng. Another strap hanger turbulence. You don’t get to choose your space before you fall. You learn to fit inside time and indifferent perspective.

Faces haunting subway station transience. Phantoms tagging my soul. Apocalyptic faultine sighs.

Memory steers me . My heart beats into the heart of the matter.

Between now and revelation I smile at the strangest life.

2008-02-27T10:50:00.000-08:00

The Light

How many more light bulbs to twist
before the everlasting light dies
and am left between dreams and queens
raping fountains for holy water
in the subterranean asylum of my winter vigil?

2008-02-11T08:22:00.000-08:00

Duracell Lady

I see the Duracell lady for the first time gliding into the train like a phantom. She has come to cater to our electronic lusting. Her batteries will keep us connected. She’s another impulsive hustler who has tapped into the matrix that enslaves us.
I watch her as she hustles every seat with half crazed eyes and gnarled fingers dangling the commerce. I can hardly understand her sales pitch but it never elaborates.
Sometimes they find change. Most times they stay hidden in their karma. She disappears. Contempt? I wait for vitriol. She glides out of the car like a phantom.
I saw her yesterday. She seemed erratic. Maybe she had lost her rhythm. She stood by an exit mumbling. I hoped that she hadn’t lost her hustle.

2008-02-04T10:31:00.000-08:00

Glory

Who would have thought
a tempest sated
slower than evermore
tempted us
to misty mountain.

2008-01-24T14:35:00.000-08:00

Now

here we are in solidarity
measuring brooklyn minutes
the epiphany undulated timely
we grabbed and fled
hyperlinked the poet's vision
to new york drama
here we are
anticipating the brink.

2008-01-19T15:43:00.000-08:00

get disappeared 2

when was the last time
i twitched in front of strangers
on my way hitching to babylon?

2007-11-30T07:09:00.000-08:00

spitting venom. the fond cole diaries 10

2007-11-26T13:21:00.000-08:00

still a word dealer

i still make music for embattled souls
i rip the paper to shreds to connect with my junkie apparatus
i am headed to the halls of overdue
done left you behind scratching a new street
for the gossip of my discontent.

2007-10-31T04:32:00.000-07:00

Phantoms For Sale

Disheveled pathetic John staggered into the empty church like a madness out of the asylum. He went straight up to the altar dragging sickness and alcoholica behind.

For five minutes he stood silently as if waiting for something to burn. The balding priest entered on time. He sat in the pew and gazed serenely upon John.

John began trembling. His eyes became haunted with restless paranoia. The priest never altered his gaze. You could almost pluck the calmness from his eyes. He seemed like he was willing to wait forever.

John began hyperventilating. He clutched his chest and struggled to speak.

"Come on son just let them out," the priest exclaimed.

John startled looked at the priest with the eyes of a zealous vendor.

"Father I've got some demons for sale," he said.

The priest nodded. "How much?" he asked.

Just one but it will cost you your soul," John replied.

The priest smiled. "Alright son show me."

John didn't hesitate.

2007-10-21T09:50:00.000-07:00

the fond diaries 9 caught me stranded in a cage. This is my howl.

2007-10-17T01:44:00.000-07:00

Motor Mouthing To Eternity

Unkempt hair. Super intense persona. He welcomed me into the cage with a blast of everlasting verbiage. How to survuve in the asylum. When to open up my energy.
So he kept it on inspite of sedation. He raged and railed against the conformity of their covenant.
His tongue lashing against the cage, dislodging the silence that conformity demands. His vitriol slicing through the hypocrites like machetes through butter.
I wonder if he is rambling still in that cage where you either sink or explode.
Later I found out he was my cousin.

2007-10-17T01:37:00.000-07:00

The Leper Sat With Me

You found me below, settled in with the leper. My thin legs exposed to the madness. We both staring out through the iron bars. Deep in our thoughts about things meant only for our testament. Who could understand? This is what they call madness. This is what I call transcendence.

2007-10-07T07:03:00.000-07:00

Psychiatric Folly

I am seeds I told the meds traitor. Still he forced his minions to force the psychiatric folly into my blood. Then the pale imbecile disappeared to infect another flower.

2007-09-27T01:17:00.000-07:00

To Save A Poem

The fire burns fierce and primitive like a cleansing angel. Thick black smoke pours out from the flaming house. I was lucky to have awakened to. Now I'm fighting to get back in.

They grab me, wrestles me to the ground. I struggle like a wild animal. They don't give in. My tears explode from eyes.

The fire truck comes too late. The crowd gasps as the house destructs. I finally free myself and rush into the ruins.

My relief shouts to heaven. The mob watches astonished as I emerge jubilant kissing a black notebook.

“He done gone crazy,” they exclaim.

I laugh even harder.

And then I begin to eat my words.