Remove Your 'For Sale' Sign From Upon My Property

How can I put this in a way

That you will understand?

You’re like a surveyor

Except you don’t look at the land.

You read what the tabloid said

And you just went with it.

When other people asked you to stop

You wouldn’t quit it

In fact, you came to see the land

With your mind all made up

Quick to believe that it was all just

Part of a setup.

Even brought a recording device

With a preset DVD

Of some shit about me

You probably heard on TV

You never looked at the property

You just looked at AD

And blindly choose to accept

That this property was bad

You asked me to honest

But couldn’t handle the truth

And then you pried to hear certain words

Just like a sluthe

I told you, it needed repair

But that not what you wanted to hear

So you ignored me,

As if I was not even there.

I never said that the property

Needed to be torn down

But the little I said

Conflicted with your crown

I told you a castle right now

Was just out of the picture

So you proceeded to act

Like I was a Dick, Sir

Excuse me one moment

But remember I let you borrow my hammer

And remember how many times

We used to talk in that suburban slammer

I gave you a tool,

Hoping to see you create

But you easily frustrate

And so you choose to destroy

My intentions were pure

But you got wound up like a toy.

So don’t get mad at me homie.

You judged a book

By the cover

And choose to be a hater

Instead of a lover.

I never sold anything bad

In all of my life

I might have used a few gimmicks

But I claim that right.

Being dishonest isn’t like

Being deceitful

One earns you a coffin

The other a sequel

When one explains what they know

They sell in a certain sense

You asked for advice

And I gave no pretense

But when you heard what

I had to say, you

Put me in past tense.

Acted like I dimed you out

But I just gave my 2 cents.

Your current realtor buddy

Is the devil in drag

Don’t mistake

The horns of Satan

And those of a stag.

He was once my mentor

And he guided me properly

But he mistook me for a house

Like I was just one his properties.

Thought he sold me a roof

So he would become my master

But homies full of themselves

Always meet ego-disaster.

And don’t get mad

And come to my door

Trying to compare dick sizes

His once was bigger then mine

But my “son” also rises

His moon has set

Beyond his horizon

But he went looney

Cause the tides

Are not empathizing

He lost his sway

He lost his way

He thinks his journey ended

But he only reached the bronze

While I transcended

For the gold pendant.

So now you put

A For-Sale sign

Upon my property

But that not how

You leave home properly.

I would have forgiven you

If you had just build sloppily

Nobody cared that your walls were wobbly.

We have all built houses before

Some of us floppily.

We took the good with the bad

And drew open the gates

To the community

But you were shamed of your house

So you withdrew from our unity.

And you’ve became a pawn

Your realtor’s commodity

And fulfilled you worst fear

By fulfilling your own self prophecy. 

You got yourself twisted

By following pride

But the grass is always greener

On the other side.

Where art

Where art

When art

How art

my stinky one

The one i really miss

whose mouth and breasts

and ideas
I've always longed to kiss

For long, We have no contact

and tis really a shame

for what is love is sweet like you

by any other name.

Most ones wont understand you

the way i get your jibe

but i when i did not hear from you

i felt a nasty vibe

but peace and understanding
was all i hoped to bring

and i never want to claim you out

from me you'll get no ring.

But time like you- A mistress

is one i cant endure

and so i want to know when

I can even up the score.

and see your pretty face again

walking through my door.

I heard the food is spicy down in Mexico

but i just want you to cum home

so i can eat your taco.

He to Whom the Bow Belongs

Of All the Psychic Mystic Fools,

That Lie and Cheat and Rarely Tell the Truth

The Ones That Guess the Future Best

Are Those Destined to Foot the Boot.

It Matters Not the Size of Shoe

This Tells Them Not O Where They Step

Nor Color, Texture, Hue, Expense, or Model,

Can Make an Ignorant Man Hep

Previous Roads are Often Thought,

When Sought are Explanations of Depth

But Breadth is Breath,

In Moments Death

For What Makes Man Believe in Cards

And Zodiac and Leaves of Tea

Is not the Magic So Suppressed

But tis the Trick that was set Free.

Magician and Poet, Both Can Impress

Upon the Tabula Rosa Mind

By Catching Patterns Others Miss

Linking Mind with Mind and Kind with Kind

But Neither Artist can Impress

Or Catch A Pattern So Forgot

As He to Whom the Bow Belongs

For he Knows Best his Arrows Shot.

And He Who Dwells on Targets Missed

Or Fortunes Lost, Never To-Be Foretold

Or Rabbits that Died in the Hat

Or the Fact that Old People Get Old

Tis he who Looks Back Upon The Moon

Afraid to Face A Rising Sun

Who Knows Which Road He Will Soon Take

His Own Predictions Often Stun

For No Magician Can Prepare

To Lose On Stage His Magic Hat

Except The One Who Wants His Trick To Be

How He Can Never Find Where Its At.

What Hurts Me Worst
Is While I Hurt
I See You Feel No Pain
And Wonder If It’s Sweet Song
Is Still In Your Refrain

Or If It Ever Even Was
Or If It Can Be.

While Half Of “We”
Is Sad With Grief
It Shows A Morbid Face
The Other Half
Shows No Face At All
Its Soul Has Been Erased.

There's only Darkness Now

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