power failure

Wandering round like a rat in a maze
Flipping the switches as if I am crazed
Could be a minute, an hour, or days
Will I ever adjust adjust to the bygone ways?

feeling groovy

groovy.
a
simple
no doubt
singular
meaning
word.
groovy
la ta da de da da
feeling groovy.

running

4 days
consecutively.

oodles
turned trickles
turned a
dollop
of
mystery pennies
conspicuous
in
my
path.

God?
take time
stop
be generous
notice
focus out not in
breathe…

messages?
meaning?
interpret or ignore
choose the fit

maybe
more than one
will
do.

true dat

yes,, this is written in a rapper style,, and yes,, the lyrics are explicit,, and yes,, i am nearly 47 years old…. but the the message remains…..

what a difference a moment can make…

so you be thinkin’ you all gangsta
you fuckin’ straight up thug
always one uppin’ yo homies
got the sweetest drugs

got all the bestest bitches
and the sikest hos
ain’t no body fuckin’ wit chew
cuz you cap a bitch, yo!

well brutha let me clue ya
i was once like you
smoothest playa in da ‘hood
had all the ill crazy moves

one night this punk ass poser
start to fuck wit’ my shit
mutha fucka didn’t realize
who he was fuckin’ wit’

dood, i whipped out my gat
i went all al capone
and without a moments notice
both our lives was gone

ten years a go they buried him
but life,, was my decree
yo, even if they let me out,,
i can’t never be free

all dat fuckin’ attitude
and all dat pent up strife
don’t mean fuckin’ shit to no one
when you take a nigga’s life….

true dat…..

by: paisley

photo

http://fc05.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/027/e/f/

Gangsta_by_wise_kctus.jpg

badge of honor

If you read my blog you may have noticed the badge atop my sidebar. If you’d like to display it on your blog the following snippet of HTML should do…

<a href=”http://aldeposo.wordpress.com/”>
<img src=”http://crackedheadblog.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/button.png”>
</a>

Just cut-n-past it into a text widget (minus the quotation marks at the beginning and end) and you’ll be flyin’ your ADPS flag for the sphere to see.

Good morning.

Michael

I kissed your lips as the menthol fumes rose in the air
“What do you have for me today, Precious?”
My palms opened wide to reveal the circular tablets
“Love”

Another self destructive trip into indulgence
The drum within my chest begins to pound a little louder
The liquid in my arms runs a little faster
I began to salivate for the bitter pill and taste of blue gator aid

Now it’s a waiting game
I stare up at the clock as the seconds tick away like hours
In half an hour you and I will be in love
In half an hour my life will be worth living again

Eight hours go by like seconds
Your skin is made for me
My skin is made unquenchable fire
Your touch is the morning dew

Your voice is the symphony written for me
Written by the Gods on the day of my birth
You make the world a place of light
You quench my thirst for love

For eight beautiful hours
Hours that go by like seconds
That end all too quickly
That leaves me feeling empty

They leave me feeling desperate and hungry for more
More “love”
More lies
Enough to drain me of all that I am

So I’ll just keep on coming back
Until I’m no longer searching
Just chasing away the emptiness
One, two, three tablets at a time

Shedding Skin

Sometimes I shed my skin.
It falls like a jacket,
Heavy and folded.
It thumps to the floor.

Once again I am a kid.
I lose my worries,
Old and simple.
They bother me no more.

I run with my kids.
I have their freedom,
Young and ponderous.
My muscles not sore.

We’ll watch all cartoons.
Reruns don’t matter,
Colorful and fun.
Ain’t nuthin a bore.

I’ll trip on that jacket.
My ripple of skin,
Fits just perfect.
Adult to the core.

dsl hell

modern annoyances
that’s what they are
the cell phone in your bag
the electric windows in your car

we work hard it saves us time
extra shit to break
you’re gonna need the latest thing
for your neighbor’s sake

beepers phones phones beepers
is that me or you?
how did we cope before we had
this extra shit to do?

the walk

born mary rose mulkayhe
baptized in white lace
shy, soft-spoken child
filled with feminine grace

raised by loving parents
in a modest, comfortable home
who could see,, how far away
from all of this she’d roam

surely as a child
as she lay, awake in bed
she never in her wildest dreams
foresaw what was ahead

who can say, if she had known
that time would heal her rage
maybe she wouldn’t have walked away
at such a tender age

maybe she never would have tried
smoking pot- just to be cool
or stole script drugs from her parents
and ate them all in school

maybe she would never have married,
and had children she couldn’t keep
at least then, she wouldn’t need to
punish herself,, by working in the street

it doesn’t really matter now
as she walks the dark “ho stro”
picking up tricks
for a couple of bucks
for the drugs,
to make herself whole

born mary rose mulkayhe
baptized in white lace
she walks the street in white stilettos
selling her feminine grace

by: paisley

photo:

http://photo.net/bboard-uploads/00CFFw-23604584.jpg

demons

It’s happened again
Scab ripped from skin
Blood, pus, — a foretaste
Pain prevails efforts to stave it
Memories can’t be cleansed
Raw wounds unhealed
Truest truth from youth
Took hold, marked, maimed
Making me to blame
Infection of spirit defines me
Wrong-turns-loses haunt me
Left a shell — withered and hideous
It can’t and won’t be denied
Horrendous deaths I’ve died
Again and again until it finishes what I began

Cracked & Broken

 

cracked and broken,

my mind so much hope

cracked and broken,

my heart so much love

cracked and broken,

my soul so yearning for understanding

cracked and broken,

my body young and free

cracked and broken,

how can it be

c

 r

  a

   c

    k

     e

      d

and

      b

     r

    o

   k

  e

n

with

Peace and serenity