I watch what I say now, and I hate it.
Current mood: drained
Category: Writing and Poetry

Red Lipstick

Zebra stripes and neon lights
long fingers and
a cigarette in her hand.

Smoke, broken nails at each end,
dope and groping males.
kinda hoping for change
at the beginning of every weekend.

We send each other death threat
text messages,
between periods of the best sex
"never witnessed, Mrs.".

Shit just hit the fan.
intentions
were always there,
just not listed as cruel and bad.

Dual hand cuffs, tan stuff
parents don't hear much of their daughter;
the bad stuff.
she smiles, keeps her lips stuck together
and, an open mouth kiss is out of the question

She says she
"Fucking hates France and
doesn't take a chance,
on a guy like me."

So, as the whole night passes
I flirt with Jack and running glances
from the other dancers, I'll
"probably never" want to meet.

Currently listening : Hope By Non-Prophets Release date: 2003-10-07

6:45 AM - 7 Comments - 11 Kudos - Add Comment

Light Rail & Mirrors
Current mood: drained
Category: Writing and Poetry

5:47 AM - 7 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Real Sex (suicide girl)
Category: Writing and Poetry

Currently reading : Fight Club: A Novel By Chuck Palahniuk

5:27 PM - 28 Comments - 33 Kudos - Add Comment

The Life of Death
Category: Writing and Poetry

9:50 AM - 8 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

SteelHead Got MUGGED
Current mood: busy
Category: Writing and Poetry

I did get mugged. Robbed. My money jizzacked.
Whatever. I think it's funny. And a good story.
Apparently, I have good karma.

I was coming home from playing beer pong, not really drunk or anything. I'm about 1 mile from downtown Denver. Not the best neighborhood. It was late, like 2 am, and I missed the last Light Rail (train), so I was gonna call a taxi. I decided to walk up to a busy street to meet the taxi, and on the way I came to a school. There were about 10 gangster ass Mexicans hanging out in the playground, chilling, using slang, most likely drinking 40's of OE, or some other nasty malt liquor they "stold". Stereotypically being loud and gangster-ish. So, I cut up the alley right before the school. As soon as I turned into the alley I hear one of them calling for me.. Fuck that.. Keep walking.
At the end of the alley, there was about 5 of them, waiting for me. I keep walking. Surprise! They follow and start fucking with me, asking me if I knew where I was. "Uh, Yup." and reminding me "this is west side, bud". OK, bud. They started getting a little pushy and blah blah blah, the ringleader (note: the shortest) asked if I had any money. I knew fighting back wasn't an option, and running was just as bad as fighting back. I think it's like running from a bear, or something. So I gave them the whole 16 dollars I had in my wallet, and was on my way.

No money for taxi = 5 mile walk home

So I start walking, and already I'm laughing about the whole thing (it really hasn't effected me at all). A while later I see a drunk ass guy and naturally, start talking to him. His name is Dave, he is having trouble standing, using a parking meter for that extra bit of help and I tell him what just happened. This angered Dave. He was was on my side and mentioned (in a drunken handicap) that we should go back and get my money... Cool Dave!! Bad idea. No thanks. See ya later.
Well, I kept walking briskly for about 7 blocks, until Dave pulls up next to me in the passenger seat of a white pickup truck with a female driver and they park. Not because they are gonna give me a ride home. No. Not that easy. They pull up next to me because they have a flat tire, and there is nobody else in sight, to change it. I guess I give off that vibe: tire changer. Lately, people tend to come to me with flats often (Mollee).
I put the spare on in under ten minutes. All the while laying inches from traffic on what is prolly the dirtiest section of Broadway... As if there were a clean part. Now, they are on their way (which is the other direction) and I'm on mine. Well, I tried to walk away, but Claudia, Dave's ride, motions me over and insists that I take the 20 dollar bill she has in her hand. I didn't want or expect or desire it. I never even thought about asking for compensation, but she demanded I take it. Thanks Claudia.
After all is said and done, I end up 4 dollars ahead.

So yeah. I got robbed. But I made money out of it. How often does that happen?

7:18 PM - 6 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

A Game of Darts
Current mood: indescribable
Category: Writing and Poetry

11:56 AM - 7 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

Laura (449)
Current mood: awake
Category: Writing and Poetry

Laura goes to bed alone.
From the imagined safety of quilts and sheets
she peers over the side of her bed,
and she stares down on earth, observing.
The red lipstick and wine stained glasses on the nightstand
hardly resemble blood, but always end up spilled on her floor.
Cobwebs start in the corner and crawl up and out, on the walls
while cigarettes simply smoke themselves out.
Her cheap purses hold rimmed glasses and insecurity's inside
but not matter how she tries to hold back,
the tears would always find a way out
and they all run down her face.
Laura hid the tracks the best she could, and no one ever knew.
In fact, she almost fools herself.
At least, till' she wakes up, alone.



So I woke up and cranked this out, and kinda "dug" it, so yeah. I promise, no similarity in the name. It just ended up that way. Shouldn't you be at the Berlin wall or something?

Tag
Category: Writing and Poetry

Throwin' up colors and scratchin' skin
splash a masterpiece and ask your friend
to put his name too and that's when it
goes from writing on a wall to.......
well, it's still just writing your name on a wall.

Two weeks to bust it
another three days, they'll buff it
and destroy the things YOU made
even if you LOVED it.

Keep dropping your ink blots
and create (temporary) options to stare.
But please,
make it something worth looking at,
at least till the cops get there.

Everything is the same under a layer of
white, gray, blue, beige, red, brown or purple paint.
Legally hiding your beauty beneath the surface.
It hurts just a little to much to bear,
cause you thought life was fair
but it ain't, them's the breaks.

10:22 PM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Bar Stool
Current mood: hungry
Category: Writing and Poetry

7:20 PM - 7 Comments - 9 Kudos - Add Comment

Stalkers
Current mood: cooky/wacky
Category: Writing and Poetry

Here are a few messages I have received in the past 2 days...
All coming from one of my best friends (We shall call her "A") Babys Daddy.
who is trying to say that, I am the real father, of HIS child...

I have ZERO physical history with this girl.
LOL


----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: LB
Date: Apr 14, 2008 3:23 PM

So... We need to have a talk... where can you meet me?

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: SteelHead
Date: Apr 14, 2008 7:38 PM

I dont know you man, why would I want to meet and talk?

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: LB
Date: Apr 14, 2008 6:44 PM

A said that you keep talking shit about me. And you know who I am....

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: SteelHead
Subject: Be a man.......dad.

Dont flatter yourself buddy, I dont know you. And im really glad about that. From what ive heard, you've got a lot of issues going on, in your (self-centered) head.

If you want to talk, then talk. Meet me at myspace dot com. k? ok.

Photoshopping pictures of me with your child?
wow man. Seriously, Go seek help.
Hacking myspace accounts?
no thanks.
I dont want a stalker.

Maybe you do all this becase YOU have something to hide?
Or, are you really just, that insecure?

I know you have a supped up sence of self importance bucko, but I hate to break it to you, nothing ever happened between me and "A"... I never even held the girls hand.
Nor have I ever seen YOUR child in person.

look up immaculate conception,
me being the father is PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE.

Its too bad you continue to destroy your relationship with her, the mother of your child. She is an amazing girl, but no sweat off my back, she prolly deserves better.

Casey

-----------------------------------

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: LB
Date: Apr 15, 2008 12:39 PM


Watch how you speak to me girl. Still live by the right one? Either way. You only know what she tells you. And who holds hands to fuck dip shit.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: SteelHead
Subject: Re:Re:Be a man.......dad.

I don't even understand half of what you've just said.

"You only know what she tells you. "
Pot, meet Kettle.

You only know what you assume, which is too bad. Because everything you assume is wrong.

I don't know what else there is to mention.
what do you want me to say?


Ps. ,
who doesn't hold hands at some point, before fucking?
Not the romantic type, huh?

----------------------------------

So thats the convo so far. Ill post any updates as they come.

4:09 PM - 7 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Insomniac
Current mood: luminous
Category: Writing and Poetry

Resurrected with the bone white patriots
skeletons of those who died raised up like a flag
unaware of what day it is
going through life in the night
and it’s a fact, I’ve got a zombie on my back
He’s got sunglasses on and reads between the spaces
I’m a overgrown political kid, I make art that’s tasteless
and we always cross the line, one time or another
fuck the laws arm, I call him my dead brother
or the monkey on my back,
who’s very weary of fog and the irony of dusk
we learned to speak Dutch in Prague
I squeeze speech, love and god
through my teeth and to a mirror
then I shoot at keyboards until my gun dies
and now that monkey is gone
I’ve finally fallen asleep, at sunrise

1:36 AM - 7 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Brandon’s Apples
Current mood: guilty
Category: Writing and Poetry

Brandon Borchert
(http://www.brandonborchert.com)
was an artist
who worked for my mom
since I was very young.
I grew up around him
and he taught me how to make signs,
in more than one way.

He taught me my lifestyle
and the style in which I'll probably make my life.

Brandon was an amazing,
unique, and ground breaking artist in Colorado.
becoming very well known.
even winning "Best Painting Solo -- Emerging Artist (2005)"
in the best of Denver edition of Westword magazine.
(http://www.westword.com/bestof/award.php?award=40849)
Unfortunatly, two falls ago, Brandon decided to leave this world
and I felt, maybe, somewhat, a tiny bit, partly, (see butterfly effect) responsible
because my mom fired him,
to hire..... me.

I have worked on the same computer
for the last 4 years
in the same spot
that Brandon did for over 8 years prior.
one day, I found his folder
with art and snippets of what he left behind
eventually, I found the apple.

I became absolutely obsessed with it's image
the apple. its the apple. there's an apple
the apple was always on there.

So, I started putting it up everywhere.
Stencils. Graffiti. Stickers. Wheat Paste.
Vinyl. Paper. Paint. Metal.
the medium didn't matter.
the (personal) message was my goal.
in memory of him
In memory of Brandon.

I'm still putting them up, to this day.
even if its on my back forever.
and I feel
I feel maybe just a little better.

9:15 PM - 10 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

Career Poet
Current mood: artistic
Category: Writing and Poetry

Ive always been unsure of the future,
while in my basement,
studying the arrangement of words
and discovering syllable placement
days dissolve and I'm concerned with how to say it best
it sounds a lot like love, the kind they say out west
cause I'm a natural threat, put here to make it
yes, I've heard laughs and claps in between arts and crafts
still, I'm unsure ill be able to make it back
to earth, back to the future, cause my back still hurts
and my career path, is made of words
a little turtle on the back of his shell, murdering a track
tucking in his hands and legs to survive in hell
hot air deserts lift me up to extreme measures
now I compare life, to luck and bask in its pleasures

Currently listening : Situation By Buck 65 Release date: 30 October, 2007

9:46 AM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Christmas Eve in Detox
Current mood: amused
Category: Writing and Poetry

This is how my Christmas eve went down...

OK, so (my friend) Josh and I went out drinking. Hopping from bar to bar, Pitcher after Pitcher. I got drunk too fast and people like that. So, they started buying us drinks (or so I'm told). After meeting a Russian guy with an awesome accent who escaped from the soviet union, we decided to leave in fear of missing our train home (my apt.).. Just about 3/4 of block a way, Josh decides to, joyfully, yell out "NIGGERS!".

To say the two middle age black men behind us were unhappy, is a bit of an under-statement. Chests puffed up, fists clenched and I'm sure with a drunken lisp, spit prolly flew out while we were yelling, too. Josh (who does Brazilian jiu jitsu) tackled one to the ground. As the other ran to his friends aid, I intercepted, trying to grab the guy to no avail, as he ran away from me. So I chased. I was playing tag with a 35 year old black man downtown, in the middle of the street AND I was IT & I was losing. I guess he didn't like the game as he ran (as did his friend) off and found a police officer. No punches were thrown and/or landed.

Officer Killinger arrived and had a tough decision to make. Should he cuff the 6'6" blond Caucasian or the much smaller guy-who-kindaaa looks Mexican? Josh was swiftly taken into custody. Two minutes later we were both riding, hand-cuffed, in separate cop cars on our way to Denver Health Detox. After a quick check of my blood pressure and blowing a decimal number ill never remember I was deemed a threat to myself and others. For my good deeds I received minimum two hours in solitary confinement. Sleep comes quick when you're highly intoxicated. As does two hours.

My next two or three hours of Christmas morning was spent in a cozy room with 50 other drunkards, most seemingly enjoying there accommodations. One, so much he yelled out with glee, "time to smoke some crack!". (this seriously happened.) Segregation in full effect, on either side of me, a similar aged white guy. All three of us backed into our corner. The rest of the room - Minorities and combination minority/hobo (and Josh).

Then I was lucky enough to explain all the intimate details of my sex life with, Cathy. Who also brought good news in the form of a $280 bill, and the suggestion of getting tested for TB. (hey, at least I had no charges). Cathy was kind enough to give me back my belt (removed for my protection) and my wallet, short $30. Then, as a life long Denver resident, inside Denver, I uttered three words I never thought would heed use.... "Where am I?"

Currently watching : The United States of Leland Release date: 07 September, 2004

4:30 PM - 6 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

Inviting Walls Into Wide Open Spaces (human)
Current mood: high
Category: Writing and Poetry

Even at your worst....
you, are fucking incredible

3:15 PM - 7 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment