Fail

Sometimes you crumble instead of finding that strength to go on.

We aren’t all heroes.

This isn’t a movie of achievement and success.

Loved ones are hurt.

Blessings aren’t counted.

Actions come like riding a bike after years away.

All of it slides across you and at some point it’s pitiful weakness that lets you down.

The weight proves too great.

You’ve burnt out.

Hope is the most dangerous thing.

It promises more…

But maybe this is who you are.

The Almost.

So close to winning – that you have to fail.

Apologies will be made.

But “sorry” is as empty to the ears of others as much as it is empty to you.

You wanted so much more.

But it’s the head games you play with yourself that destroy you time and time again.

It’s just the way it is.

Just the way it is.

The way it is.

 

 

 

 

 

Birthday Suicide Blues (2015)

Kicked out of yet another program last year….this time on my birthday 2015. Hiked 23 miles through New Bedford and wound up shooting coke under a bridge to celebrate….detox the next day. Sigh…madness and mayhem on tap.

Suicide Blues

Information overload leaves a catatonic state,

Insane flashbacks that babbling never slakes.

So, I’ll lift a glass or grab a spoon,

Always a delight to numb out while speeding towards one’s doom.

Sweet and luscious memories deride me in a torrent,

So, I’ll hit it twice and blank it out till I become abhorrent.

Streets, infections, jails, and horrifying youth,

Tweaked out, blacked out, cracked out, hiding from a truth.

It hides behind each one I take, lurking in the corner,

A queasy feeling critter all sewn up dark,

“Truth” is my last remaining mourner.

With bulging eyes and clasping paws it looks comfort to provide,

But I’ll show it how, I’m living now, in ghastly fear and pride.

Battering awareness until thinking is a chore,

Wish it didn’t taste so good or I’d be less a whore.

So feed me everything you’ve got –

The booze, the pills, the lines, the rock.

Pump it in as fast you can until I’m outlined in chalk.

Eventually all will fade away and leave behind my friend,

“Truth” says that all this time it was just fine to reach out for an end.

I could have saved my aching skull from cracking at the ridge –

It’s too late now though, and all I dream of is hanging from a bridge.

Green Haired Angel – Video/Spoken Word

Misha #3

 

Misha

Spoken word for a special someone who holds me together when I’m on the edge. I don’t know what I’d do without. With heartfelt thanks, and wishing you the recognition you deserve.

Pig in a Sweater + Younger Years

Its rare that I stumble across a photo from the teen years – so few actually existed to begin with. Happened to find this one online while trying to get an old email address up…so much younger – had just moved to MA running from drugs.

And to cap it off…..pig in a sweater!

Elegantly Disturbed Haikus – #1

wearing an embryo,
would prefer a large flopping sombrero,
small skin means tight fit.

bedazzled rodents fly,
as shockingly agile bullets,
spreading feet like wings.

plastic horror show,
melts to a puddle of goop,
Barbie versus torch.

 

Antenna Guts Missing the Iron Pubic

I might be in love with a man….fucking wonderful and aurally intoxicating.

Charlie Zero The Poet


The pyramid inveighed.

The hallucination sconce,
the pharaohs block arbitrary –
pull out the defeated parallel world.

Depression intoxicates
your laced orb.
Fidelity develops by exploded monopoly.
Untrammeled voidness,
slowly repeated missing,
you look like a turned ripped feature.

Antenna guts;
trashed by the iron pubic.
The evil me tore the glitch thereof.
A canopy erection,
a flambeau paralysis,

The voyage punctuation
composed of rheum beings.
Above you
tongues commit humility.
A flappy neurological citrus –
direct voice-over congregation
of poised disruptor whim,

Corn chasms
fuck through the goddess power.
We belong to the self-annoyed nausea.

Copyright © 2016 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Antenna Guts Missing the Iron Pubic – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without…

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Interesting “nature versus nurture” thoughts…your thoughts?

Green Hair Angel

Spoken word is coming shortly…if you haven’t seen it, I’d really love to hear some of your own work…take a look at the Studio34 for the listing if you don’t see it a post or two down. Cheers!

 img_0515

She told me in a voice that wants for something more,

“I’m stuck with you and you with me,

But I don’t want to be stuck,

I just want to be happy.”
Simple words of wisdom,

Drop out the only mouth from which I tend to listed.

All around life is in tatters again,

It’s a battle of just going and going,

Churning up the ground as I try for traction.
People ask if I even know what I want,

It would be easier to drop my head in the sand,

No one wants to be confronted by the fact,

That survival doesn’t constitute a plan.
No goals

Just obligations.

Another sick hollow spot,

Self-indulgent in wasted life,

A never ending emotionless vacation.
The idea of walking a road with no end in sight,

Sounded so peaceful when I was younger.

I can’t be old enough to be this tired,

Those thoughts drag my feet,

Mired in mud six feet deep.
When you’re bound to the pipes,

The needles, the bottles, the pinners, the caps, the strips, the tabs and the doses,

The misery never knowing, always moving,

Chaotic insecurity, discomfort and the fear –

It’s easy to lose yourself in the haze,

No rag can clean vision so glazed.
Occasionally you need a multi-colored head of hair to show you that there is still more to be had.

That whatever tomorrow brings,

It’s worth holding steadfast to belief in something better.

Even if you have to lean on each other to get there.
She told me in a voice that wants for something more,

“I’m stuck with you and you with me,

But I don’t want to be stuck,

I just want to be happy.”

(Need your Help!) Addiction & Recovery – Spoken Word, Rap, Rhythm

Looking for your word(y) contributions….

Anything and everything…spit fire or choke gargling on vomit…just a message in your own words.

 

 

Amp up until your pupils drool…

Long night, long day.

Screeching whistles from the bat winged harpies playing in the sun.

I swear I put a dog collar over the tree stump last week,

Wonder what happened to the dog?

I should probably go out and check,

But now it’s impossible to tell through all their beaks.

Should have embellished the points of each ear,

Small silver trellises of moonlight into nursery rhymed eyes.

C’est la vie,

I’ve got a lockjawed dedication that demands fevered lacerations,

And if they leave a few eggs on the ground for breakfast this evening –

-so much the better.