Monday, June 8, 2015

DTLA

I'm ugly, I'm beautiful, I'm
brash but have class with an
ugly past that flourished in
arts and crafts, attracts the
rift raft but attracts the rich
only because my grit can be
seen as glam, unique, ubiquitous
my lights, ridiculous my nights,
ludicrous my days, I'm poetic
in my ways, I'm poetic because
my life breathes air into the people
that makes them act entitled to a past
that doesn't reflect their future, past, or
present, a place where the well off and
the peasant create an atmosphere that's
pleasant, an atmosphere that's violent, a place
that's vibrant, a struggle to see if poverty will
defeat the migrant, the city has become
a battle grounds of love meets the
tyrant, high class meets the
sirens, the grit meets the
silence, culture, famine, crack
pipes light the street, the only
light that shine, a drag from
the pipe, the only hope, the
inhale as a reminder there
in hell until there high takes
them to heaven....

Crack Pipes and Crickets

It started with the x pills
it started with late nights
it started with the clubs
it started because it was swag,
but the style was too difficult to handle
he couldn't grab the handle, the speed
 had him burning both ends of the
candle, every day his spirit seemed
to dissipate, he began to disintegrate,
he slowly became a different person
until it all began to crumble...............
........................................................
.......................................................
Burn the glass and take a long hit, exhale
the smoke and hear the crickets chirp, sit on
the curb and take a long hit...in many parts of the world
its said that crickets bring good luck, ironic how the
crickets chirp so loud in an area that's a abrupt....burn
the glass, take a long hit, exhale the smoke and watch the
world shift , for a moment his problems
lift, her problems seem light, because
of the light... he sees me walking in the
night, reflection of the city life, glow of
a good night, reminder of where he
once was, a reminder of where I could
be, both reminders but no bridge, only
crickets singing, lighters sparking, ships
passing in the night...


No comments:

Post a Comment