Thursday, August 28, 2008

natural tone..(that Hallmark flavor)


   You were born on a clear night, right outside the capital of less is more..
Dawn captures you how i picture you..
natural...
the way mom likes to see you when you visit...
natural..
like the first time she cradled your tiny frame..
see..i like you all dolled up in make up..
but compared to just you, it ain't the same..

i don't find our kisses plain..
without lipstick, our lips will still stick..
please no bells or whistles..
just you, lady natural..
skin as smooth as a dream when you fall down..
baby, you don't need that rouge right now..

this isn't my master plot to get you naked..
well,not completely..
just a little spring cleaning, eliminating the unnecessary..
me the nocturnalist, started to go to bed early..
just to catch your morning face..morning's grace...
i've gone to sleep for the night, i can't wait..
it's the natural slumber, the natural dreams, the natural tone...
of our close bodies, and our wandering souls...
sunrise brings those journeys to a close...
sweatbeads on your forehead looks like dew on a rose..

so i lean in, and smell your cheek..
mother earth's new scent..
in stores now..
and she's calling it you..

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Through the windows of my soul...


glimpses of brilliance and beauty...
reruns of fear and pure ignorance..
the responsible folk... gazing safely in the sky at night...
but stars go hard...

little adults of a bunch of different sizes... kids are extinct...
people with faith.. people with nuthin...
myself in the morning when i'm mad...
myself at night when I'm nice...
them...
i always see them...
they always see me...
oh yeah? well they always see you too...

triumph and tragedy of  several different volumes and values...
my loved ones.. those with hate....
she's cool..he's a prick...he's a puss...she's a lay-up..she's a know it all...he's a know it all.. he's a know it all.. she's a know it all.. okay, i think he's the last one... okay,okay.. her and him, and that's it... those are the all the know it alls....
whew... ah yes.. he's an outcast... he's still on the hanger... she's a swabber... he's power starved... he's attention starved.. she's redemption starved... 
too many i see to name em all...
and yet everyone you pass is naming you....
is that why the "odds" are against us?

ashes,ashes we all get clowned...
no sticks, no stones thrown..
i still  see people on the ground...
i'm on my own two but we're one in the same...
we both  look up, and put out our hands begging for change...
I'm looking at the sky, he's looking at some fast walking guy...
and both of our current postures remain...

innocent felons..
prudent prostitutes..
gangster nerds rollin wit candy thugs..
 corporate america copping from the spot...
from a dude in VANS and straight legs...

the sand i've passed in my hourglass...
the past..
today...
and then?
back when.. my eyes were so innocent, they could've committed any of the sensational crimes, since '79 and got off...
 oh that's right.. they did..


Wednesday, August 20, 2008

EXCLUSIVE!! A one time BrainFart expose':Women who kill and the Men who Love them



*This is a serious matter, that should be taken seriously..there is blood involved.."*BF

Good morning all.. 
This is BrainFart, reporting live for KACM Channel 23....
We are on location, outside of the home of Mr and Mrs Tragedy..
apparently, several people have disappeared at the hands of Mrs Tragedy..last seen near her, and then..pooof...we are here to find out what she and her husband, Poor Jasper Tragedy...that's his name..i swear... anyway we are going to find out what happened to all those people...This, coming just a week after the "Venice Beach Banquet of Death"... Where an out of control woman, Mrs Harmdunn, just started walking around the boardwalk-- her husband Ricky, in a full tux, top hat, and cane holding onto his wife's leg for dear life, as she began swallowing every person in her path under her flowing gown... I don't know if you've seen the footage, but the image of a beautiful Vera Wang piece just vacuuming hobos and tourists all over of the boardwalk is surreal...but it's real...very freaky...After a day and half standoff, and 257 victims vanished.. Frog Men were able to spill a really big glass of wine on the dress, causing the monster to retreat.... They followed her back to her lair in Malibu, where they obviously had no choice but to blow the shit up.... None of the victims or the creature was recovered....Except Mr Harmdunn,who was found unconscious, in the fetal position, under a big smoldering pile of his wife....
Once he returned to full lucidity, he begged for them to just kill him.. They put him in the lunchbox, because he threatened to end himself, if they wouldn't do it for him.... He hasn't spoke or eaten since that day... the hospital has been feeding him through iv,other wise he would get his wish and parish....Authorities and scientists are very interested in keeping Mr Harmdunn alive... We'll get back to that a little later
And now we have Mrs Tragedy, 
So far, the couple has not been available for comment, but right now, we have their next door neighbor Mr Bennet I. Ain'tinit, ready to give us his account..
"yeah, she been crazy!!! she was like nice, up to a point you know?but once that switch got fixed...man,she was like a guest on a talk show! cursing all wild and windmill swinging arms...but i think she really wanted to be on a talk show, cause she would like self edit her curses, and make poor Jasper hold her back like the celebrity bouncer guy...very sad..she was cool with me, cause that's how i kept it! i never gave her a reason to flip,so she ain't flip..but, if i woulda lived like down the street a couple houses,like in that marvelous example of architecture the stuck up ass Lake's live in...ole stuck up asses.. shit i'd a.....huh? oh! oh, sorry.. uh,man i'd a cursed her ass out a long time ago....uh, I can say ass though right? ok, sorry again bout that.. anyway, that's only cause ole' Benny is packing! that's right! heh, heh.. oh, man don't sweat it, i got papers... wha? you don't wanna pop a couple off? sure? alright..But you better be packing, if you try to start something with that lady..but since I live next door, it would be to easy for her to catch me slippin, see? yeah, I know she's real little..but she got some muscles boy... look like a lil version of that wrestler girl Chyna..yeah, i'm not even sure if my betsy here would even do anything to that woman..if she even is a woman...you sure you don't wanna fire nothing off? You could do an expose' on like what happens to bullets once you shoot em in the air...hey, well do you at least wanna see me shoot one off?" 
Bennet, still not aware of this reporter's certainty  he would be shot and killed by accident by an old, crazy, with airtime... Finally, after a lil geriatric shuffle and struggle, tucks the revolver back into his trousers where it came from...but i really wish he would just put it back in the lock box.. Hup! super surprise, the gun goes off.. through his pant leg,ricochets off a pole, and through the Tragedy's front window pane...
With the the "O" face...Mr Ain'tinit disappears back into his house, interview over!!!!!!

As the last shards of glass fall from the frame..maybe 60 ft of glass total...just all over the lawn....
The crew and I.......well, we stand there....
And.....
This is the next conversation i have...
With the swat team...
"the last I recall...is an arm..
a looong arm...
a strong arm...
but this arm was in the sleeve of a fuzzy, mint green, bath robe....
it grabbed Dennis, our camera guy, and I don't know after that officer..."

"Okay, thank you, mr. brainfart..don't worry, we have our guys surrounding the house, and digging a hole under it...
you didn't wanna, like be there, when we get through the other side, you know, you could tie it into a prairie dog expose' or somthing.."

"I'm going to sit here,for a second.. officer..and I will, uh, get right back to you on that idea,thank you..."
Obviously, we are not crawling under these people's house...
But, we do need to get to the bottom of this....
The reason we were originally here, before dumbass almost shot his old nuts off..
Word in the sentence is, that Mrs Tragedy has killed, like hella people!!!! And, Mr Tragedy, poor Jasper... is her accomplice!!! but they say he could never kill on his own... he does it for love... poor jasper..

Mrs Tragedy pops up.. standing there in the empty window pane, blood splattered all over her mint green, bath robe... television camera cables, hanging out of her mouth... her hair, looked like she had a tornado trapped under a hat, then took the hat off...
in one hand, she had Dennis' tshirt, which she used as a napkin..in the other, she held poor jasper, in her arm, like a kid..
he clutched her tightly, looking like a terrified chimp... 
Wait.. she's trying to say something...
she starts screaming in another language, with her mouth full..
no idea what she just said..
zipping through the morning fog, a big ass tranquilizer dart hits the crazy bitch in the neck,dropping her and poor jasper to the glass soaked floor of the living room...
swat swoops in, everybody busts their grade school, recess nut..

cattle prods,rope, like 8 swat dudes wrangling poor mrs tragedy...or Cecilia if your know her...
Poor Jasper, panicking like a first day kindagartener, whose mommy is leaving the class room now...
they were actually able to get her onto a stretcher, and then they wrapped a whole roll of duct tape around her...tight like a tiger...
she tried, but with the dart all in her system, she had nothin...
they wheeled her out, over the broken glass...
Trigger Happy, ole' Bennet, was back out, on his porch..beaming with glee at the sight of his wicked neighbor being carted off.....finally....
Poor Jasper was being rolled off, right next to her...in a stroller...hysterically crying,and flipping about like a fish outta water...on crank.....somebody put this guy out of his misery already!!

Well folks,looks like things are wrapped up here.. I'll catch you guys over at the precinct,this should be good...

Downtown, Police Headquaters..
Outside the station, the reporters are like crazed fans at a rock concert...
and inside......

So, here we are in the station...
Pardon my whispering, and all the static from the mic in my pants....
Obviously, you can't film in a police station, but there was no way this reporter would let the story end outside... 
okay, so there he is... Mr Tragedy...
"Poor Jasper...
stuck in an interrogation room-- handcuffed to his chair, in his footie pjs, covered in blood crying for his wifey...
who was being molded in lava like Hans Solo...
The magma would cool, and she wouldn't be able to move...ever!!
But, they kept her face, and other areas uncovered, so they could do tests and stuff...
Meanwhile, 2 big, mean ole detectives enter the room with Poor Jasper..
immediately they take turns smacking the guy around..
one of the goons goes too far, and starts choking jasper with his blankey..
the other goon breaks it up...
it worked..
jasper gets to tattling and spilling the beans.... 
"i'm here to ta,ta,ta tell you detective, this is not a normal situation.."
The detective likes the way this is starting off...
"A little faster, wouldya dufus? No shit this isn't normal.. you're broad eats people, and then fixes you a pbj with  no crust before she tucks your pussy ass in for your afternoon nap...so what is she? a monster? tazmanian chickenhead? that it? a cult or something? talk to me, over there, slumber party.."
Poor Jasper, sweating in his man sized monkey suit, looks anywhere but the cops faces..
"She..she.. sheeee...wasbornwithakillgina!!"
The cops simultaneously lean over and earl at opposite ends of the table...
Supposed to be urban blabber, reportedly, there are women who are born with a different version of the female anatomy.. Crudely termed  a "killgina"..
This is a vagina that causes the woman to kill..repeatedly..like all the time...a monster really..super strength, and bad manners..
different shapes,creeds,colors.. doesn't matter..
women born with killgina's are everywhere..surely you know some....
but, you just thought she was really mean...
Back to the interrogation..
 "Well, if that's true, which y0u better hope it is, home alone...." the detective says, wagging his finger at poor jasper...."that would explain the thing in Venice, and we just got a new report in from Lancaster,Pa.. So that's your story and you're sticking to it, huh, numb nuts? Mommy got a killgina?"cops laugh all the way out of the room, poor jasper just quivering in his blanket... pure fear of Cecilia..
uh, i mean love.. he was shaking cause of how much he loved her... 
  
Uh, hold the phone, he's waving me over...
"Mr Tragedy, i am BrainFart, from KACM Channel 23.."
Poor Jasper is standing upright!!! With his chest out..
"Fuck you, lil reportin ass nigga!!!" Straightfaces, Poor Jasper just pulled an AK out of his pajamas...
He pushes me to the floor, and starts spraying...
He levels the floor, most people injured, but unfortunately some are definitely dead..
He grabs me by my collar, all of a sudden poor jasper got nuts...and muscles... and an AK!!
Pulling me along, he blasts his way to the elevator, where he pushes the down button..
He's trying to figure out how he's going to get his sweetie out of the volcanic rock mold she's been encased in..
We arrive in the basement of the police station,where the scientists, and bales of medicinal live..
Pop,pop,pop,pop,pop,pop..
I've seen this dude, cap like 60 people in 5 minutes.. as feeble as he was before, he is just as ruthless now...
180?
that was some Verbal Kent shit, no wonder why they've got away with this shit for so long...
 For some reason, death doesn't stand over me reading, like it did when I was interviewing that half wit Mr Ain'tinit...
I feel like Jasper( ain't nothing poor about him right now) chose me for a reason...
There for, if I'm compliant, he won't kill me...maybe..
He makes me step over all the slain scientists, and wheel Mrs Tragedy to the elevator...
He follows me, with the AK in between my shoulder blades..nudging me every once in a while, to make sure I still understood...
She is damn near breaking out of that mold!!!
He presses the up button and it's right there..
Hella uniform dudes start blasting, I hit the deck, but how long could it be before I get sho.......
Mrs Tragedy busts out of the mold....
Ah shit, it's on now...
they're shooting her, and nothing is happening...
she keeps screaming what sounds like,"Hans Solo ain't got nuthin on me!!!" but i can't be sure what that lady really be sayin..
the bullets aren't bouncing off her, they're just disappearing....
All of a sudden, I'm in the safest seat in the house,where a reporter should be...
She eats her way onto the elevator, and Jasper pushes me in front of him..
As soon as he gets on the elevator, she grabs Jasper, and puts his whole head in her mouth..
ewwww.you could see her big ole tongue, just gyrating around his head...
She puts him back down, and smiles..i guess..
He's standing there dizzy, like he's loving it.. Umm,whatever floats your boat?
They push me off on the garage level.. I instantly hit the deck, I watch movies, i know these fools are surrounded...
Yahtzee!!! same deal.. me and blasting jasper, walking behind this lil,big ole monster.. 
Absorbing bullets, and annihilating the police force..
That's gotta be a record, she took out the whole force!!!!
They dance around bodies, and guns...
He writes "I LUV U CEECEE".. Really big on the floor of the garage... In cop blood..
They look at me...
would you guys laugh, if a deuce fell outta my pant leg right now? fuck you, I got real people problems! critics..
I could see the wheels turning..They're gonna do some really twisted shit to me,oh man,oh man,oh man...
Oh man, she's gonna rape me, while Jasper watches Dora the Explora, i can tell...
He's walking over....
"Reporter sucka, stand up.."
I get up, like i've been on the ground for days...
He starts patting me down, I can hear more cops coming, but they have to figure out how to get past a bunch of flaming cars and bodies...
He finds the mic hook up, ewww..shut up..
"you ain't got no camera,mutherfucka?"
He still won't look anyone in the eye, even with an AK dripping with cop 
blood...
"No,no sir. Jasper. I,I didn't wanna risk it with tha.."
" I don't give a fuck, reporter... Just make sure, you make a good story out of that audio you got... You tell the truth, mutherfucka!!"
"Oh, yes sir, Mr Tragedy, I,I'm gonna make sure people know you are, are the vic..victims.."
Whew.. Talk about selling that good shit...
He heard what he wanted to hear...
Down the way, the cops have just about broken through, but bullets are already flying again...
From under one of the few unburnt squad cars, I see Jasper and Cecelia hop in a swat truck and go the other way from where the bullets were coming....

Crashes, smashes, crackling of gun fire, mixed with the wretched sound of grown men in complete agony...
So this is what a massacre looks like..
at the hands of a schitzo with a rifle, and a lil lady with a killgina..
Now i hear commotion on the street...
 I jump on the hood of the squad car, to get a peek out of the garage window...
Finally, I realize all of the blood surrounding me doesn't belong to the cops...
I've taken one in the thigh, and shoulder...
My last glimpse before passing out was the swat truck, swerving down the street.. 
only a couple of cars left to chase them...

Turns out, they got away....
yeah, Cecelia is still out there..
but even if she wasn't...
there are others...
women..who seem like normal, everyday, regular women...
but they'll kill you before they get they're hair done, and think nothing of it...
and her husband will be right next to her watching...





Monday, August 18, 2008

diary of a crush..


anticipation is like a tattoo..
you know it's gonna sting at first, but then the surface goes numb.. Spike, you are now free to do your magic..
and that's me..
been walking alone for a while,but she makes me want to get a table for two..
but how do i tell her, she is the lady i'd like to get some tapas and a bottle of rioja with?
or maybe i should take her to get some fish with something light,and fruity?
she gonna last if she wants to skip elegance with a burger and some new castles..
what if she wants to go chill right after work, and just walk, maybe get some ice cream,or a cup of coffee..
wait for her train,sharing a pair of broken headphones..oh, now forever that'll be our song...

a crush...
yeah, you a big dog..
but, how fresh do you feel right now?
ain't that puppy breath you got fogging up your mirror on the wake up?
you gon look good for her today,ain't cha homie?

sun shining brighter?
you just can't seem to wipe that stupid ass grin off your face...
and you could give a fuck,like a hooker on her day off..

But you haven't said a word yet,those good times are all in your head...
like you're trying to get up the nerve to sock a bully..
deep puffs..deep puffs..deep puffs...
whatever that means to you...
ahhhhhhh!!!!
at it like a rabbit...
but i'm so cool...
proud of myself,cause i'm so cool..
and even though in reality i'm not that cool...
and yet she's digging how cool i think i'm being...
and yet i'm mr obvious toward the end of happy hour...
but i'm straightfaced...
not swindling, and that's why her defense mechanisms are dwindling....

Cause these  butterflies in my  belly can't be lying...
do belly bugs even have the capacity to lie?
so i'm not scared of her....
like she's holding a gun to my heart, swearing she'll do it if i don't back up...
i'm a reincarnated,puppyfaced,str8faced,eyes wide shut,eyes wide open,hopeless romantic,reckless warrior....
whatever she can do with that is hers...
it always goes right back to the sandbox...
when it comes to a crush...

Saturday, August 16, 2008

STR8 Faces..


You're a socio piece of shit, that's what you are...
you can tell me whatever, to get what you want?fuck you...
sleep good at night, don't you asshole?
as long as you're good, you're good..
wow...
when you look at the globe, you see a mirror....

if "me" was a 5th of gin, you'd have the hiccups, and smell like a barfight during christmas...
how do you convince everyone to care about you, when caring about you is the only thing the two of you have in common?
lovers,bosses,homies,well wishers,do gooders, samaritans, and philanthropists? all these different people, tricked by the same treat..
 you escaped from the john, and somehow have been able to disguise yourself as something else....
but i know you....
all i see is a piece of shit, with a straightface....
mr hankey on botox..
your're not going to swindle me again...
not for nothing..
you straight faced son of a bitch...

I've bought your products..
exercised your rhetoric..
logged onto your websites..
they really think they love you..

I don't know about you guys, but i'm taking my bamboozle depressants twice a day, like doc told me to..
and if it happens again, still shame on me...
But, I guarantee some jilted,scarred,damaged motherfucka will cosign....if you got got by a straightface...

Sunday, August 10, 2008

ain't no weezy win nukka


i wonder if that strong odor of brain rot could explain why i'm so strange?
last night, walking from the train i was eventually surrounded by a bunch of dudes,who all looked like lil wayne...
i'm ready to attack and be attacked,but it looks like i'm gonna get maimed...
i step outside myself, and look at me, like "dude,for real?"
are you really about to get killed by the lollipop guild?
and i looked at my judging self, like "you could knuckle up too"..
so he did....yeah, but we still  got fucked up...
and then we got up... and limped back..
we walked over, and we limpin back..
still ain't no weezy win nukka...
tougher than nigerian hair..

Saturday, August 9, 2008

to know me...(gotta luv your buddies)


right off the bat, i learn alot about someone by how they use the word "friend".. Most people, who use the word loosely have degrees of friends..  other people i know, say they know, and hang out with a bunch of people, but only have a few friends.. some of these people are my friends.. 
Riddle me this...
what takes forever to earn and a second to burn....
anyone?
uh,let's see.. ok, yeah you..
what?
that's right!!check out the big brain on Brad!
the answer is TRUST.. 

Brainfart is: lazy, contradictive,rude,needy,self-marinated,reckless and lacking scruples..
Depending on who you ask, this list could get alot longer,shorter,nicer,meaner,or would it be more accurate?
 for someone to be able to add or delete anything on this list, they were at least a "friend" at one point of my life.. to know me is to talk shit.. I encourage it..i look at my friends, as a really clean mirror...like they use windex instead of binaca..
might not agree with the mirror,but i've rocked a countless number of outfits, against mirror's orders....Brainfart forgot to put stubborn on the list..

See, i have alot of friends...to me, if you're my "friend" for a long duration of time, or for a short amount of time but like maybe we went through a whole bunch of crazy shit...you're family...

In the Brainfart School of Life...
Everyone starts with an "A"...
What you do with that grade is totally up to you...
If we are really cool, it's really hard to get dropped from the honor roll...
But, once you hit a "d".....
Ain't no summer school,extra credit,rotc....none of that shit!!
it's a wrap!!
you cooked!!!
peace!!!
what the hell are you looking at me with that goofy fuckin grin for?
beat it like you skeeted..kick rocks..get gone..get lost..scram..good goddam riddance...you fuckin fuck..
oops..
to know me, is to get cursed at...
all love..
actually, you definitely might not know me, and i still might curse at you.....sorry..
unless you deserved it, in which case I got more for you, if you want some.... beach..

I would die for my family.

kill for my family.

scrap for a true homie, even if he started it...(D, you crazy as hell)

would you lie for your homie? tell the truth for your homie? pretend you liked something? pretend you didn't like something? 
up to what point though?

when does a friend become a burden for you?
when have they stopped coming to class, and turning in their homework?
rapidly failing out of the prestigious institution that is your devoted friendship..
my friends are good students.. and my family is the ever present alumni..
i'm not saying if somebody dropped out of the Brainfart School of life, they wouldn't still be a great big ole' somebody...
But....
Some profound, enlightened, half a pimp, wearing a fila jumpsuit, once said to an up and coming lady of the night.."if you knew betta you could do betta."


Friday, August 1, 2008

parallel in comparison

i've never got shitfaced at cheers... like i'm far from the Norm.. Can't confirm what or when i would conform..
No longer do i get surprised, by my first impression of people, being their 2nd guessing eyes..
I promise to always answer your 1st question...
the mere presence of a teacher does not bring instant value to a lesson...
unregardless...
i'm an artist.. 
society demands i accept role model responsibility..
they say: "speak with conviction...just don't speak on convictions.. turn the other cheek, but never to whisper a conspiracy..."
they say: "there is no such thing as by any means necessary.."
they told me, " everything happens for a reason..be patient with your dreams.."
BUT I'M LIVING SO FAR BEYOND MY MEANS, I DON"T ALWAYS KNOW WHAT PATIENCE MEANS...
What if that virtue hurts you, and a patient is all you ever end up being???
a tube needed for breathing, is no way a human being wants to be being....
people with their eyes wide shut, still would like to see what they're not seeing...
homie, i'm like a baby T REX teething...
meaning.
i'm just getting started, on getting all retarded...
but once i hit my proper height, i can start a larger fight....
get real versatile..
a night owl...
swooping off the branch, through the afternoon delight...