MILES OF SHIT PILES, FOR YOU

Life is unbearable
Then, it is not
It’s like walking on sandpaper coping with the pain of emotions of every moment
Waning on you, everyday
Wearing away on you, everyday
Into a person you hardly recognize, anymore
Who are you?
Existing on this plane, hollow inside
You are not your feelings
Overbearing, heavy or empty
Does anyone live life restfully?
If so, how?
Is there anybody out-there?

Let me tell you a story…
There is a black dog
Hanging around your house
Gnawing, biting, growling, barking and stalking
You
It never leaves
You
Throw it a bone
And it still bites
You
Walk away and you still hear it…
Clawing
Still taste it…
Chewing
Still sense it…
Taunting
It is a beast
You smile through it
You mope through it
You laugh through it
You carry on about your day
Functioning
Breathing
Eating
Showing up to work late
Brushing your hair
Crying in your car
And so it is…
A loyal companion
That never leaves your side
The black dog is your closest enemy
You don’t want
It’s not up for adoption
Because it belongs to you
You must slay it, yourself
Perhaps tame it
Or it will eat you alive
More than it already has
You cry out for help
But you’ve been crying all the time
So your tears mean nothing, anymore
To nobody
But you do mean everything to somebody
Although you bare it, alone
You feel alone…with it
You don’t want to cradle…it
You want it gone
It feels as though this damn dog is gonna stay
Stay for good
Forever, maybe
Why must you go on like this…
With that black dog on your back?
Because…
You mean everything
To someone
Somebody
Means everything to you
Someone keeps you going
Going on for miles
Miles & miles of shit piles,
For you.

dog-landscape

Photography by Andrew Brockerhoff

Instagram: drewbr0ck

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FRAGRANT DEATH

How fragrant Death is…
The leaves,
The brush
Dying
and 
Decomposing
Under
Our feet

Why, we watch
The last breath
Burst into
Many shades
Of the color wheel?

A pretty party of
Leaves falling
Like raindrops
Spinning
and
Twisting
Changing direction
To and fro
The insides
Of living things that
Once were
Agonally gasping,
Grasping
How fragrant Fall is… The leaves,
The brush
Dying
and
Decomposing
Under
Our feet

^C1EFA4EFF71FAFA188EB72382CF7A12000E29E20E2BA29698E^pimgpsh_fullsize_distr

Photography by Andrew Brockerhoff

Instagram: drewbr0ck

 

ICARUS: MELTY WINGS

She bawled her eyes out over the phone
As her mother was on the other line eating
Chocolate Chip Mint Ice Cream
Melty like her wings tied back with assorted pastel colored rubber bands
Mother said it could be worst
It could be better
Much better
She tried to fit all of her belongings in a pale blue plastic bag from Walmart but it had too many holes
And her toothbrush and a torn up flip-flop were already poking out
Toothpaste was the only thing that made her feel clean these days
In fact it was keeping her alive
She needed the minty smell
Refreshing taste on her tongue
That tingle on her gums
Since all her teeth had fallen out
And she had been trying to pick them up one by one with broken bruised finger tips
To place back into her holey bag
Only to fall in between
Dropping
Making tiny little pinging sounds as they hit the white & black tile floor
Found
Her kneeling down on the ground looking up at me with a pained smile
The kind that makes your insides pang
While trying to hide her crying eyes
But the eyes reveal everything
And she wasn’t getting away from me this time…

084

 

Mixed Media by MMM

PLAYGROUND RULES & PHYSICS

Tables turn
Moving around and around
Seesaw goes up while the other one is down
Just so you can push your friend back up again
To take the turn
The Swing goes Backward to move Forward
Then Back & Forth
You go up the Slide just to drop back down, again
Upward & Downward
Your hands in the air while waiting for your feet to touch the ground
To become grounded, again
Laughing uncontrollably on the Merry-Go-Round as you start to lose grip
Grasping onto the bars with all your might
Spinning fast Counter-Clockwise
Off you go
Flying and head smashing into a stranger kid
Scraping both your knees and both your elbows in the dried mulch flakes
You grow up to look back on what childhood was for
Maybe…
To learn about Playground Rules & Physics
049
Mixed media by MMM

CLOWN UNKNOWN

Hair strands between her finger tips
Dangling and pulling apart to the division she sips
Red stained glass to the joke and the uncertainty of self
Rainbow color for every lover
Crowd pleaser
Separate, splitting into two
Peering sideways
Pulling further
Red lipped, paled skinned and masked
To and fro the crowd
Then alone, she closes the door
Undone she come
Between her finger tips twisting of her demise of the pleaser to the deceaser

IMG_3549

Self-Portrait by MMM

 

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DARK MATTERS: NAKED

I will not work for Physicality

I will work for Experience not Things

Things are nice, but useless

Because they all end up disappearing

In the Wrong Hands

The Light that disowns the Evil Places

Inside each Vessel

Is your obsession based on Love?

Who is your Authority?

And to acknowledge the Dark is to bring to Light

To face Yourself in bareness

That was absent of The World before

Naked thy enter

Naked thy depart

Naked thy return terse work

Mixed media by MMM

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DARK MATTERS: DECAY

I like to think of my worries as such:

A decaying tree that lays in the entrance of a walking path

Where it vanishes at the edge and stings like a thorn bush stab

From the Sycamore that rests here on the brim

Between the feminine Ted Bundy and the reincarnated Hitler

If it weren’t that fucked up now…

Wait…

See…

Where the wars of Evil vs. Evil

Drop into its own pits of Tyranny

cut eyes

Mixed Media by MMM

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DARK MATTERS: SCHIZOPHRENIA

Satan’s in the sole of my left shoe

We are having a confetti conversation now

The words from your lips are bursting in colors of blue, yellow and red

Floating pieces that never hit the ground

Zenu is my mother

Her ship will be here any minute

To drop off money just in time for the birth of my baby Jesus

The CIA is onto me, they hear and see everything I do and say

Are you listening?

WE ARE NOT CONNECTED,

WE ARE NOT CONNECTED

There is a funeral every evening at the head of my bed…

But no one cares to bring flowers to diffuse the stench of blood that seeps out of both my ears.

And I’m born every morning at the foot of my bed….

But no one bothers to bring me a blankets for my wet, cold, sopping body.

So how many times do I have to tell you doctor before you put me out?

Satan is in the sole of my left shoe

So please, take me out…

Take me out.

And off.

This hell road that goes on into infinity

This hell is desolate, deserted and noisy

This veil between here and there

Has already thinned.

When will someone fly me through the rosy scented moon door

On a blanket made of orange stars and black skies with my little baby Jesus?

It will happen you see because we are all connected.

WE ARE NOT CONNECTED,

WE ARE NOT CONNECTED

“Oh, Silent Night
Oh, Holy Night
Not all is calm
Not all is bright
Round yon virgin
Mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace” and don’t feel as though you have smile

Merry Christmas.

IMG_2441

Mixed Media by MMM

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DARK MATTERS: CANDLES

Light Little Soft Candles

In the darkness of your house

Turn on the light

Of familiar voices

Inside

Then go in circles

Up and down the halls

Until exhaustion makes you invisible

Standing asleep and naked in the hall

Blank staring while dreaming of flying & floating

And gently sang to sleep

Loud then soft melodies to silence the violence

That just takes place right down the hall

In the few lit rooms of my house

 

img_1754

Mixed Media by MMM

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DARK MATTERS: ATLAS

I’m not the obsessed kind

hashtag lie, hashtag liar

I just like to think a lot

For hours and periods of time like pivoting gears

Paralyzed by motion

And spinning from perseveration

The kind that clank together

If not gently rolled over

Like the passing of a dark purple cloud in a pink salmon sky

It is when you grow brighter

Is when they try to snuff you out

So…

You grow up smaller

Like a little Atlas carrying the weight of the world on your back

The world is…

But a crying baby that just wants

To Be.

Picked up.

Held.

And sang to.

Is it not?

029

Mixed Media by MMM

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