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Poetry by thetaoofchaos

Poetry and Prose by MoonbeamSteele

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Submitted on
September 9, 2009
File Size
8.7 KB


24 (who?)
I found myself;
in the bees nest
waiting patiently
for the buzz
and my wing-tips pattered
mute against bumpy spine
stinger snapped off in the thin
cracks of life-dried-flesh
like the queen had often

but for once I'm not
looking for a vein
but a glimpse of myself
some where out there
in the rain in the blood-stains
in the mashed-pile of
culture and society
and body flopping
fish out of water

b-boy brilliant bopping
to the wind-banging screen-doors
orchestra, through the concrete
jungle auditorium where
porch steps like seat-rows
house a thousand listening people
and For a second I stopped looking,

but I found myself again;
kicking cans and sports-pages
down the concrete landing strip
with shoe-skid like tire-tread
and stretching as long as i had
to walk to get here

and i was spitting butterflies
with devil horns and halos
contradicting their own angles
and justifying each others actions
losing traction gasping
each hard-breath spent fuel fractions
that sent me sputtering low tank
by the gutters grip
when my hip shook like
a sixties pimp and in my

I found myself;
In a voicemail from god that
said life is respiratory and
time moves in breath and I was
somewhere on the dot of an 'i'

trying to pull it
through the line-breaks
to end his sentence,
but he's doing 25 to life
in the confines of my mind
and breathing away the time

reading poems I had written
when I was somewhere near my prime
testing the waters thin line'
between engulfed and treading
trickles kicked about a water sky-

wedding where the best man
is a seahorse and the priest
a water-stallion with platinum chains
for reigns and iced out medallions
blinging eyes-blind where
the cool water beats the rocks
against the pipes of fiends and squaks
echoes of forevers hellos
and broken back against the elbows
of this bass's cold face
intimidating any treble
in it's distance
in it's glimpses
in it's birthplace
in the meadows

and there I found myself;
hanging from a pen stabbed into
cobble-blistered earth patches on a cliff-side,
legs dangling I became breeze-blown
and flapped about sky-scape and felt
American-flag-like in knowing if I ever touched
the ground I'd be honored to be burned

and turned over ashes churned like
dry-death’s butter and spread about
the fire pit like hamster-cage liner
or coffin fodder, dampened by
the greedy meat-spittle from the next
generation yet to lay about
a bed of me

I found myself calling all cardinals
calling all cardinals
my calling is calling me

calling all cardinals
If this reaches you'
kill your television sets
and sound the alarm

If this reaches you'
brush the lies from
view and lose the lens-caps'
we've made it happen here

If this reaches you'
I couldn,t sacrifice my manuscript
to the confetti cuts of your favorite editor'

If this reaches you'
I,m sending wind into those
butterfly-nets and dancing cold
against the just-licked extension
of primitive meteorologists finger-tips'

If this reaches you'
they,ve lowered the gates enough
to let yesterdays demons breath'
and the restless hippies need some
punk rock assistance to fight this
war that is peace'

If this reaches you'
the birds are laying motionless'
legs to sky while the children
sell each other low-grade cocaine'

If this reaches you'
collect those bottles and cans
and hit the scrap yard
(bring your television with you)'

If this reaches you'
abandon ship and leave the
captain at the wheel' ,cause
he will swim before chokes
on salt and seaweed'

If this reaches you'
hold the harp strings
and shape well the spineless'

If this reaches you'
rub those nickels together
,cause we,re gonna,
tell our grandkids about
how cigarettes used to be
$4.00 a pac'
prostitutes had (higher)
and we witnessed
the rise and globalization
of Hip-Hop.

If this reaches you'
scrape ,them breaks
lessen the lead in your step'
you,re passing malice'
and monument'
and monotony'
and makeshift movements'
and mother,s milk
and mankind'

If this reaches you'
the dog was eating his own
,til the cat,s claws caught
some neck-meat
and now everyone,s
a contract killer'

If this reaches you'
you,re a friend
in a world of acquaintances

If this reaches you'
Jihad' Jihad,'
the pope wet the bed'
the sinners designated saints'
and the saints have sinned
against us'

If this reaches you'
the circus acts are yet to swallow
their last sword and the animals
are still pissed off'
but the midgets
ain,t sweatin, it no more'

If this reaches you'
you,ve pressed the right button
,cause we're gonna
pick up the pieces of home
starting with the bomb shelter'

If this reaches you'
we lied when we said
that we would never love again'

If this reaches you'
the lawyers are playing
guitar hero with the judges
kids and teaching them
why gold is the most effective
color of spray-paint to huff'

If this reaches you'
it,s not too late'

If this reaches you'
it,s waaaay
too late'.

hell; I even found myself looking for love
screaming toward planets with forgetten names
labeled all of thee above

in palmsweat hymns of reassurance

it's gonna come
like cigarette-
smoke in my eye

just when i think
i'm hot shit

it's gonna paint itself
white and scream into

all my dark to join it,
it's gonna come less-
like this;

and more-like this; it's gonna drop kick a hole in the gray-plaster life i've been living and name colors as they surface. it's gonna wear me thin against it's collar-bone and smile with every sway that swings me wide-away and pulls me right-on-back.

it's gonna be the real thing. it's gonna have glasses on and not to hide black-eyes but rather just to stare at me without me being able to prove it.

it's gonna come like my own spit-back-from the fan. it's gonna tell me to look up and then sweep my feet out from under me. it's gonna ask me where i've been and already know the answer. it's gonna tell me not to lie and convince my conscience to agree. it's gonna be a better friend than i am. it's gonna come shine-tickling like the sun's lit-long fingers through my living-room blinds.

it's gonna whisper
from a storm-drain
or a text message
at 11:11pm that says,

"i' have a strange
aching in my heart
with your name on it..."

it's gonna know
my favorite song
before i've heard it.

it's gonna paint
a plastic piece
of paris and pull me
legs-first into street
to see it.

it's gonna tell me to quit my day-job and laugh when i insist that i can't. it's gonna come like grape-sweet in smash-squirts between my soul-teeth. it's gonna say that every day is the most perfect day it has ever seen and that everything is abstract art unless it isn't.

it's gonna watch me run until i'm tired. it's gonna sit like a zit on my back that i can't reach to pop. it's gonna come like static when i stand to close to my shitty little blue radio or like cloud-littered-life through a dying sky. it's gonna...

it's gonna come

and just like that

I found myself;
in some one else

the cardinals never called me back.
this is 3 of my spoken word pieces combined into what I will be spitting at this little showcase in NYC.

(a friend of mine is going to whale bass guitar solo-ology through out the piece)
Add a Comment:
AshlynnBones Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2011   Artist
Well.... I would greatly enjoy these pieces separately, Im sure.

So many fractions and paraphrases here inspire me...

"I found myself;
In a voicemail from god that
said life is respiratory and
time moves in breath and I was
somewhere on the dot of an 'i' "

If only I could equally express my disdain for the absurd repetition of our minuscule life cycles.

Your words revive my once empty vomiting hole. [the place where my brain cracks open and spills itself in groups of syllables onto my hands or a piece of paper or notepad]

not to be a picky bitch...
but i do believe you meant "wail"
[as in banshee?]
rather than "whale"
in your artists comments?

Spurn me for correcting you-
its and english thing.
AshlynnBones Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2011   Artist
:)) <3 As it's been pointed out to me....
I lack proper ENGLISH THINGS. Sometimes I wonder at my own lack of attention.

What I meant to say was:
Spurn me for correcting you-
its a sad and english thing.
Hierophant213 Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2011
It seems you already have a slew of compliments, but heres one more. I like how you can write abstractly and keep rhythm while maintaining some sense of clarity. This piece, or rather 3, reminds a lot of saul williams writing. There are a lot of really good singular quotes. Seriously man, good job.
vermillionist Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2010
i want to let you know that when i read this a while back in october, i printed the whole thing out and have been carrying it around since with me, and every time i read it i'm still breathless.

thank you.
oldest-boy Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2010
holy smokes; I ought to record this one.
Piscesandthediamonds Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
fuckoff - this is AWESOME

when my hip shook like
a sixties pimp and in my

I found myself;
In a voicemail from god that
said life is respiratory and
time moves in breath and I was
somewhere on the dot of an 'i'

AHHHHHH!!! genius. loved this!
oldest-boy Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2010
throughangelseyes7 Featured By Owner Mar 22, 2010
(im only commenting so you will know that i am sitting here speechless after reading that)
strawberry-goodness Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2010
I am envious of your ability and in awe of your talent. Bravo.
oldest-boy Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2009
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