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Day 11 - Yes, that is Today! :)

"Into the Madness"

was all the stage needed to begin again 
can green
can blue


can pink
can purple


can red
can orange


your littlest Pooh
stands in
as art

as the young man
stone and brick
cemented firmly

He is all the colors
you've sent out
from your eyes. Day 9 - late, as well

"To Youth and Liberty"

you--the blurred shapes before me

tear the skin from bone Day 8 - Late

"Upon My Sword"

when we fight
nail to a tooth
driving deeper and deeper

my jaw will twitch
and air will fill my ears

a fist to my sternum
your voice 

"I Am Bound to Hear"

a leather strap snapped
around the neck


metal links linked

that steel blade
we saw
window shopping

in black
flashes white



and it only sounds like pain
when screams screech

in pleasure 

"We Fools of Nature"

with this ring
yes i fucking wed

so that this kid's kid
can never see
what i see

in each twitch of a cheek
behind my back

meaning simply

your t.i.t. is i.t.

i dream of cigarettes
and corona
and miller lite

red bleeds into blue 

"Solid Flesh Would Melt"

the only reason why i was late
coming home to you

and blood running over concrete
from under his exposed tattooed arm 

"The Question of These Wars"

"that's what's wrong with you white people"

and i'm just supposed to let that one go
because it came form the mouth of a child

ignorance is the only thing
that will keep them knee deep

in bullets
in crack
in lack

and i try to give each of them
solid words
that turn opportunity into concrete

words and ways
but how can i
how can i we you them it

become more than that
when times like these
i have to brush their lack off

direct it into
direct into it
into something


for that click from :34 to :35

at this age
in this time
which battle
are they even in

-A.P. Greco
Posted by A.P. Greco at 8:29 PM 1 comment: 

"With Fear and Wonder"

her skin silked between sheets
the line of her spine

flip to the side
my other brain

always flashing

twitch right

please let your tongue find the sweat between my lips

twitch left

and leaves rough their way through a cracked window
to find dirt caked tile

sticking to a thousand sheets of paper
writing assignments without names
penned with red
marked with finger tips
greased with


lost again in the brilliance of her hair
curls twisting between my finger tips
oiling the drying pours
as her breathing warms my ear


"you a nigga fool"
through silver and gold
caked in salted grease
and they begin punching their fists at each other

in words

"Come back to me."
I never know how long I've been gone
when she looks at me like that

with sex on her teeth
fear in her stare
and wonder in her tone

Posted by A.P. Greco at 7:22 PM 2 comments: 

"And I am Sick at Heart"


i hear her screams in the ripping of tape
off white painted cinder-blocked walls

stuffed into their ears
into ashen hands
dustless ashen hands staring
ever so sweetly

black knuckles bleed into concrete

(and that's a metaphor for you to just figure on) as i

stand before you
speaking to blanketed walls
informing roaches in corners

clutching my sides I Stand Before YOU

a tree branch
scratching at glass


i took this chance
in order to love us as us is loved by them
or is there something else to say about it

like bees digging hills in our front yard
like the polar drift paint still dried under my cuticles

like leaves dancing

or the noises you make when you sleep

and i am sick at heart

Posted by A.P. Greco at 1:40 PM No comments: