A dollar & a dream.

Just want to move to something Ramble or Otis created. Discuss the everyday with the 3rd & get sedated. Spend my mornings with Zoe. Shoot the gift with the Cab. Dine with the bloods laughing about the things we will have & had. Dream next to K, wake up the same way. Press my nikes on different paths & trails by the day. keep the mind sharp, the body strong one day this will be my daily song. One day ill be free, someday I will fly, till then this will be the story I see whenever I close my eyes.

hunter gatherer.

hunter
gatherer
hunt for the cool
gather with the fools
bartender dialougue-ing while posted on stools
sipping on some hops
eye out for the hip
wet floor caution, Nike ACG grip no slip
share laughs, pints & a few quips
& dont forget to tip!
if its a her try and introduce her to your tip
quid
pro quo
not a hoe
just knows
what she wants, play records, roll trees & blow
cumulus
clouds
hunger for love emotionally silent
physically loud
lost in a shroud
of warmth
hot
overheat
then exhaust
night of passion shared inhibitions lost
@ a nights cost
experience points gained
new memories to last
a.m. break quick
then break-fast.

maintenance required.

poor kay. i sincerely wish she never ever has to go through that again. ever. life is experience and sometimes maintenance is required.

loveukay.

clouded clarity. sick. wired yet tired. compare that of course to the life of a dog. marley just sits there and rips into his disney turtle, he runs arounds, pees on things, hops and licks anything and everything. hes a puppy. fun.

middle child.

Yearn for freedom but to scared to be truly free, we have become automated response machines, doing what we are told whilst placing creativity on hold
Following paths and routes paved in by the soles of drones that march incessantly to the beat of their owner’s drums, for mediocre sums
Numb motivation with a lifeless expression, their dreams replace yours, while the hour glass switch from doles to pours to too late.
Our lives for hire, we are cars with no tires, so were not going anywhere, except back to our stations to bask in the glare as we stare endlessly into our personal windows with no walls, just unfortunate that its found in the room with no exits.
Continued search for the climax, meaning & the glory... just another day in the life of a middle child of history.

venting.

everyday concerns w/moving forward/ no time to breathe / less time to take steps back/ roses remain as scenery no seconds to relax/ constantly on search for things life lacks/ cut me some slacks in my slacks / performing office tricks just to get my greenbacks back/ so i can burn some green and accept living within my means/ in a system designed to chase another mans dream while yours remains a dream/ grinding daily surviving on the ashy knuckles of our life just looking for some C.R.E.A.M./ and some sort of fine linning, a clue, a hint of something bigger to come/ itoo want to live the "good life" and momma says i can do it, reciting to me many words of the wise, but living in these times words just wont suffice/ they say seeing is believing then i must have closed my eyes/ lid upon the canister of our goals/ limitations to the expression of our soul / shackled down creativity/ watered down reality/ as the beast incorporates our being into the capital motivated machine of corporations/ routine is the slave master of contemporary times that dulls our sights and clouds our vision so we have an obstructed view of our goal and a front row seat to distraction/we need it because it defines "me"/ in form of raw denim jeans, track jackets, and nikes/ not definition/ submission / slave away for a pay check to issue checks payed to the order of nike & every other conglomerate so we join every one else in the category/ is it hypocrisy that i write this in Air Max 90s?/ or instead of studying i rather get bent /maybe i just voicing my frustration trying to find improvement as i let smoke through my vent.

riddle me this...

strange thoughts of strangers cots put the strangest knots in my relationship plots
constant search for loves warm embrace, common ground, understanding or is it the challenge and the chase?
that makes a lovers look about face and re-think the time, pace and space being used or spent
all for someones love to rent
with the most honest of intent but still too disatisfied to be content
its only human to see something you dont have and feel like your missing out
but should it be an everyday bout with yourself as you continue to convince yourself thats its not all about self
while placing people on pedestals or on shelves
emptying your soul on lines of paper and computer keyboards to the point where all thats left is a mere shell
shadow of a man
i want to be the artist not the fan, the painter not the canvas
i dont know if its the desire to impress or the desire to be desired
if lifes climax is death then do people go to work to be fired? fall in love to get hurt?
buy into the philosophy that tradegy inspires, like how the rose that grew from concrete is stronger than that from the dirt
if love at first sight is as true as its feeling
then what happens to that love when second sight start seeing?