Okay, i'm still working on a script that will allow you to have a better indexed list of my work as well as poets who join our site here. Just bear with me, and if you have any suggestions, e-mail me. For now, here are the selections as of August...

The Lessons Continue

I never knew love to be a frightening thing
until I saw how you ran from it

Joy Notoma 8/18/2002 11:17:16 PM

Joy Notoma 8/16/2002 12:20:47 AM

WAR

Corrupt your mind,
and reject assumptions,
rape your mind,
and cease to function,
this junction,
that your heart is at,
is a epitaph,
of a thousand million journeys before, yet you have not taken note, and know not what's in store, as your shown the arts of war, the explosions of mines, and the horror of a tripped line, the body of a man once called Tex, with his dick in his chest, and his insides hanging down his pants, and you cant, remove these images from your mind, burned inside, like a napalm rainstorm, billowing black death smoke to cover its reign of terror, and you never, thought that it could be this depraved, and yet this road was paved, with wars of years past, and never once did you ask, what was it really like at Normandy, or maybe, it wasn't something you thought to ask, and by chance, missed class the day it was presented, but you meant it, when you said you'd serve your country, so here you stay, in a foxhole you dug, to hide your mug, from sniper fire, and the high probability of death, and you replay, the events of the day, the sodomizing of a innocent girl, and the silence you know was wrong, how you looked the other way, what does that say, about the man you thought you were, and what the fuck could he want from her, yet you passed on by, and you almost cry realizing you've descended along with everyone else, into the decaying mass of flesh and blood, death and bones, the putrid pits of hell itself, the horrible truths of the
Wars of the Self...

Michael A. Carrizales  8/21/2002 12:48:16 AM

Witch Hunts and Patriotism

Collapsing spirits, you fear it, as the Dow takes its plunge,
watching numbers and warnings flash on your screen every nite,
believing the hype, packing your bags, charting your paths, "gettin the hell outta dodge", but I'm staying here, like an old timer, posting up on his porch as the water keeps rising, surprising, to see not a mention of spiritual intervention, we are crashing to the ground, moral decay and delay, to our dismay,

Witch Hunts of the New Millennium,

Not saying its bullshit, but then again, what every happened to Bin Laden, and our skilled soldiers hunting him, whatever happened to "In God We Trust", spat out of every mouth, dripping from every greedy marketing directors tongue, not more than two months ago, everyone up in arms, brotherly love and all of that mock shit, here I see in my archive, God taken out of Pledge. How sad to see the hypocrisy, the stench of the United States, rise high into the sky, like those two strobe lights beaming up echoes of fallen steel..

I cant take this anymore, my eyes seeing the craziness in store, the backtracking and backstabbing, the ending and the beginning, seeing all of these lies, posted on the screen, how my smoking weed has caused the fall of those beautiful buildings, how we can help, by buying a fucking Chevy, "No interest and nothing to pay until 2070!"
I cant take it anymore, but I wont leave these shores, because my patriotism is true, I don't have to scream and shout the way you do, I show my love by preserving the history of men who fought to see us here, what's that dear, you've never heard of General Himmler, or even Stalingrad, what about the battle of the bulge, or hamburger hill? nothing still? hmmm, let me say saddam, or bin laden, and all ya'll get rowdy, forgetting everything in the past, because its too cumbersome to actually listen in history class...

Maybe im ranting a little too much, maybe I should just shut the fuck up, Michael why are you always so negative, don't talk to me unless you've taken a sedative, my own relatives,
and you wonder why,
I have to cry,
when I see a minivan drive by,
a flag taped to the rearview glass,

faded in the sun,
neglected by Her sons...

Michael A. Carrizales 7-22-02

Traces Of The Soul

I can’t find my voice, the one that gave me so much happiness, he's MIA...

No more slamming with my cohorts,
No more famed retorts,
No more words flowing freely like waves crashing against the white sands of my loose leaf...

No more flowing with my rhymes like that Aunt Jemimah syrup you spread on your buttermilk pancakes...

It saddens me to not be able to rhyme with ease, like a disease, infesting my mind, spreading throughout my spine...

Then I find another voice, though not my own. It tells me of the other ways to feel the melodic waves slowly crest like those scenes of music bars floating through space...

She says to forget the rhyme, and remember the time, the feelings the effects, the suns solstice or eclipse...
remember the small details and you find the word, and its crazy, but it worked...
here I am speaking to you, from a different voice, a different entity, a different way...

The things I say, rhyming or not, are the feelings of my thoughts, and Every day I metabolize my ions, and enter this club, give the digital version of the secret knock, and review the emotions pulsing off of the words of others, like colorful auras emanating 

from each person, as if by posting, they left traces of their soul....

Michael A. Carrizales 7/21/2002 12:11:56 AM

invasion of privacy,
trying to see,
what's inside of me,
scanning with your lasers,
x-ray my body,
stand behind the wall and say im safe,
try to find my soul,
with mechanisms,
lifeless wires and energetic desires,
it cant be found without the fires,
the fires of adversity,
the flames of my mind, are hard to define, they roar and they rage, inside of their cage,
I try to reiterate,
and translate,
the chaos inside,
they esoteric cries,
try to form sentences out of thin air,
and you rate my shit without a care,
you place a price on my soul,
you try to cookie cut it and take control,
tell me to stay on the topic,
but I cant stop it,
my mind works faster than your machines,
faster than your dreams,
faster than it may seem,
but all you see is plain old me...
not understanding what's inside of me
the pain and disdain, feelings in the forms of words....oh wait I said that before, cant do that anymore, gotta remember the rules, gotta tell my soul to improve, cant repeat the thoughts, cant get off subject at all costs, gotta write perfect words that sound absurd, makes my blood curd, to the point that im gonna implode, or ignite, fuck what you say im gonna write, im gonna rant and rave and type this shit as it spits, from my lips, and fuck you if you cant vibe with it,
its the very essence of what you seek,
with your lasers and scans,
trying to decide what to make of me,
a child of soliloquy,
a child of history,

A CHILD OF POETRY....

Michael A. Carrizales 4/29/2002 11:14:17 PM

As Yet Untitled...

Tossed to and fro
like a child's play toy
from the toy chest

clinking my head on drawers and floors
feeling the emptiness inside of me
like the air in a Barbie's head
I cant think for myself
I cant talk for myself

I'm running low on gas
I could stop any minute
and die down
no mechanic could fix this mess

Too many wrongs to be righted
Too many tears to be laughed away
Too many sorrows to be forgotten
Too much sadness to be sad about
Too much sin to be forgiven
Too much hate to be loved

                                  ~Blond Budafly

Black Hole Nothingness

I sit in my room, the lights out, my head full of gloom, 

candles illuminate the emptiness, 

hopelessness, helplessness, 
its senseless...

Why do I feel this way, 

Why am I desolate day after day? 

It's like an esoterical doom only I know, 

is she a friend or foe, 

a virgin or a dirty hoe, 

a sweet kiss or a $20 dollar blow, 

I don't fuckin' know, 

for all my perception, I can't see what's inside me, it's confusing..

Am I good or bad, happy or sad, true peace I've never had, 

why must I write such dreary shit, why can't peace completely wipe away all of it, 

why can't I tune my mind body and soul, cleanse my spirit it's black as coal, 

it's dying inside me, 

withering away, no sustenance for days, 

she had moved my soul, stirred my sleeping love, 

she claimed she was from above, an angel she was,

but she's no longer here, and I fear, 

that my heart is pouring tears,

for if I lost my chance, 

then I must have no competence, no fuckin sense, 

my mind is spent, 

I collapse into black hole nothingness....

Michael A. Carrizales 2002