Opposite of Immortality

I want to bend the syllables, but I’m not sure if you know that I’d do anything to change your vocabulary

To put me in your alphabet, but the grammar is killing my sense of creativity

I’ll turn the words I’ve find around

Twisting the sounds, as I worship all the love I’ve found so that it equals all the pain that I’ve felt

All the bad seeds I’ve been dealt

Met by the darkness of the town that matches my deteriorating health

Epitome of pain to which I’m bound, the missing clause the helps me see the noise

You thought you had me fooled, but you were thinking of the wrong boy


I’m the poet of missing relevance, the pendulum swinging under a lack of intelligence

The rhymes of the celibate, dragged over to paradise

A place where you scream until the color runs out

It would be the death of my ambition if you repeated that line

Everything that used to be mine, has become a persistent time slot

I sleep during the day and view the night, love me once but now you love me not

My words are kind, but the definition is laced with disgust and hope that I chose to intertwine


With the words I used when we fought

when the music was heavy and the wind was clear, but now I embrace the debris

Because it’s the perfect metaphor for what you mean to me  


Seeping through the juvenile beat

Blood slowly drops down to my feet, but I’m working to not add insult to my injury

But I went beyond once I reached infinity

The sun was the goal until I harnessed life and destroyed your soul

But now I realized we might share a common goal

My emotions are against me but I’m not allowed to impeach

The negative thoughts that drain me like a leech

The roads are endless, its desire that holds a limit

Your silence isn’t genuine, it’s a gimmick

The feeling when your future is on rain check, and you taste the bitter spices of being forgotten, is one that I have never felt

For when I am finished, the entire ideology behind self-preservation will be diminished

I whipped the chain of command with the belt

I watched as a frozen tundra began to melt in hell


When the vocals went from dirty to clean, when the tone went from violent to serene

The definition begins to lose what it means

To stay asleep and sing past the ones that has told you of myths and heroes

Tears that drop down because you are confused what’s yours and what’s mine

You are a tool fit for design, thrust into the mainstream

There are insolate leaders and makeshift teams

But to scream with such heart makes me keen to understand the steady pain in your heart

As your drop into downfall and you hear the past make it’s fucked up shriek

And you are confused as to what you seek

The view is nice until you fall off the peek

I don’t want to die, it’s the opposite of immortality that I hide in my cheek

I’m the Burning Man who Will Float On

You try to lay these ghosts to rest, but these times were the best

Painful memories that used to be a beautiful reality

Images you value over the rest, her smile and her hands that used to caress

A mended soul

Now the moments when you felt blessed

Are filled with questions, and you have no answers just a simple guess

My city is burning to the ground

My exodus to the underworld without a foot to stand on

Buildings fall with the speed of sound

She pillaged my entire crown, I wasn’t her prince

Just a clown

A mound of shit in the bottomless pit

My life reduced to a slit on my wrist

I wish I never met her because ignorance is bliss


I can’t function the same; I’m crying out for help and crawling on all fours

I’m stuck in a room without a door

I’m reading the bible in peace


My open mind is deceased; I called up to heaven looking for a simple hello?

Nothing for 19 years, so it looks like to hell I shall go


I cling to love but I’ve learned if you put a girl above your life

You’ll be left burning a dove

You’ll be standing alone, contemplating words and crying in a raging fire

Spewing solemn words of love and desperation

I know each time it’s my dedication that becomes a horrible stipulation

I know each time that I was never meant to love

I know each time that I was never meant to be loved

I know that I will fall apart looking for an explanation

Screaming for a friend

But even they realized that my downfall has no end

And they descend, they hate me in anticipation

For the next time this will begin

We Saw Land

I want my financial situation to be perpendicular to the past tense, because in the present, I’m evolving in my own United Kingdom, so I’ll pay debts in pence.


I’m alone in sinister endeavor, I turned back a clock with a cheap shot, the novice was stricken with rigor mortis tied up in the parking lot. People talk a lot of shit, my vocabulary wasn’t supposed to develop, the dog eating you alive is called a bullpit, I flip forward what it accepted among these regions,  fuse together the poetics with cohesion


I realized why I was staring at a supernova, that the sky is clear, and I’m a loner. If I don’t get to shoot myself first, Ill shoot for the stars


When get there, successful enough to sustain my greed, I climbed a hill, awaiting trial for kleptomania, I take what I want. But will I be thrust into a ecosystem where morals and happiness is replaced by cocktail dresses, intoxicating perfume and a flashy bar?


Do I still have time to settle down in Mars?


My rise is perspicuous, I’m sick to the death, and my venture is far from innocuous, I have the passion to turn doubts into a dehydrated pile of piss




I see Land, Another City, Another Story, more sorrow, but the streets wont be apologetic, so how can we be sorry? I possess poetry that is musically inclined, I write the perfect notes with rhythmic sickness, hide your piss because the harmony has criminal sickness


A Book that moves like a symphony, I can finally drown out the spectral chants across the avenue my definition of poetic mathematics is minus the attitude, we divided into a team so our influence would multiply, when faced with failure id rather die, then listen to howling of my own weak cry. I know now I’m strong enough to fight this tide. Everyday,


Everyday, I fight the tide that for so long I chose to ride, drowning in unholy water just as the fog was coming. I just want to be everything I can be, and not a bod rotting under the sea




We saw Land, so we talked the talk, and then walked like a motherfucker. I got jumped by the candy shop suckers, because we ordered caviar and Mountain dew, while you feast on insecurity, smuckers and Beef stew. Decimate, debilitate those weak crews.


My ambition was stomped on, it perpetuated  my fears, now have their motherfucking name in my swears. Four letters, is the exclamation that’s so much better, people are cold in this world so I put on my new sweater.


When my resistance is dead, I lose sight of land, the shake and twitch engulf my hand. I wanted to triumphantly blow in the wind, a fan was all I could get, but if its my best bet ill go all in, you’ll know I’m high class when I conclude my book with FIN


We Saw Land...


I preached unforgiving winters, wrote hot summers, plunged the shit down the pipes with conservative effort like Joe the Plumber. With an enlightened rage, i divided my page, multiplied the masses to the sum of all fears. Extracted every last tear, i bled out from my eyes, with the elegance of a oligarch and a nerd, simplifying the smarts to create a vocabulary thats never been heard. Im not supreme but i aim when i spit, my critics really arent shit, with their insults i hydrate my wit.

Im the prodigal son with cardiac detention, content with evolution as i smoke your dreams in mid air suspension. I may not have as much as you, but I breath, reconstruct and swerve with an audacity and ill die with my Strawberry Grandin Crew. My critics can half step, but they are an improper fraction, and i observe your rhetoric on a table of decimals, because you arent whole. Enjoy your lifeless cornish hen, antics are rotten, i mutilated your life with my four hundred dollar pen.

Grand is a conglomerate, compared to lost souls, ill pen a revolution to destroy motherfuckers with seperate goals. Searching for Gold, fiery with mean heat with intent to turn my self doubt into mincemeat. You are alive when you do something dangerous, I wrapped my aunts scarf around my hand, synthesized the sun with ink when i took the name of Grandin. I wrote this poem, and i felt so much pride. Lets unleash our fury and break stuff. I know when times had gotten rough, the loudest bird had a time when he wasnt tough enough. You are half as raw, drenched in fake grit, count my cuts and then my jewellery before i smash your jaw. Gold bracelet, we’re the new nation, you need to face it. We will cook, brew and bake delicious dishes with an aroma that smells so strong of success that i taste it. We didnt get here from slacking, Laura, Chris and I didnt live a perfect life, we created art from the dark nights full of tears and fears. This is Grand, on the count of three we stand, and run a marathon on the road to success. So ill go with good to great, Look me in the eyes, the field is dialated, so do you think you could knock me down and seal my fate?Image