along for the ride.

seats warm.
i sit beside myself.
waiting for my turn to go.

patient as things change.

this passion red.
my envy green.
our common ground, yellow.

we ride.
and i watch you.
focused on the future.
gaze dead ahead.
i look for some signal in your eyes.
for your mood to shift.
for something ive said to automatically stick.

all air.
flowing in.
between us.
these four doors leave us nothing to console.
so we let the radio do our dirty work.
and tune out the sounds of our hearts.
beating through the dash.

this man.
made in america.
a well oiled machine.
lead foot.
heavy brow.
strong chin.
always to the left of me.

he's stalling for something.
he's idle
not confused.
and me.
neutral with my emotions.
leave no other roads to choose.

mile after mile.
we travel.
treads wearing thin.
neither knowing where this journey started.
or for that matter.
where it will end.

but im in.
and we ride.
smooth and quiet.
his hands control the cruise.
rearview is 20/20.
and ive got nothing else to lose.


look whose talkin too.

all this rain leaves nothing else to do.
gotta start static.
where static is due.

something for nothing.
only leads to tricks for free.
and the way that i see things lately.
there's nothing wrong with that to me.

under all these equations.
after downing solutions
and judging figures.
were all simple factors.
to the illusion.
a parabola of lies.
giving me the bends.

they think they know.
but they have no idea.
every fiber of being was created to ruin
the best of the best.
its the nature of my beast.

carve them up.
swallow them whole.
leave their families nothing to console.

and its the worst of the worst.
that usually tends.
to gravitate.
to me.
and i to them.
creating nonsense.
and tension.
and whispers.
like wind.

so turn on the weather.
and whether the storm.
is comin or goin.
i'll be dead first in line.

killing time.
and crushing dreams.

filling this city with gossip.
till it burst at the seams.

and there begging.
and needy.
for something to hate.
or someone to love.
a way to relate.
or to disassociate.

stray from the norm.
is the popular vote.
and being original.
has become cut throat.

you've gotta hold on to your genre.
and let go of your truth.

tell them whats happening next.
sneak preview.
take two.

feed the rich.
rob the poor.
be predictable and lazy.
and they'll bang down your front door.

swear on your mother.
then kiss her on the mouth.

give em all nothing to talk about.
and its you.
they'll think about.

everything eventual.

you've got some nerve.
i never knew.

these words seem all too real.
all too soon.

all this reality.
infiltrating the inevitable.

out of time.
out of all the things i thought.
this has been the constant.

after all the confusion.
and congestion.
Confucius says,
its over.
and I do too.

and it is.
and this is new.
and all this old news.
lines heads on the floor.

all those friends we thought we had.
we dont know anymore.

and its for the better.
this is for the best.

for so long i feared what would happen
and then if became
and is
is now.
and now is here.
and this is now.

and wow.

its amazing.
and tricky.
and necessary.

were growing up by the hour.
and changing with ever turn.
thought we were teaching.
but we were unwilling to learn.

im ready.
and able.
and willing.
and unstable.

all this angst.
and animosity.
as turned it to fuel.
and prosperity.

suited up.
and dressed to kill.
im taking full advantage.

and i hope that you will.


Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Conway Twitty....

I see the sparkling little diamond on your hand
It's plain to see that you've already got a man
I can see you're not about to fall for any of my lines
I see the want to in your eyes

Deep in your smile there's a quiet, soft desire
Like the embers of a once raging fire
You know I could light that fire again,
you know it isn't wise
I see the want to in your eyes

How strong's a band of gold
Is it strong enough to hold,
when a love has grown cold
and A woman wants a love, sweet
and warm
How many women just like you have
silent schemes.
How many men like me do they sleep
with in their dreams
You can stay or you can go and
although I sympathize
I still see the want to in your eyes
I see the want to in your eyes


space for rent.

sitting idol.
all this time that has passed.
so much change.
in the seasons.
the weather.
my wardrobe.

i sit now in a room.
once a two bedroom.
now one.
it doesn't fell inhabited.
haunted it is .
with memories
vibrant with the apparition.
of the past

they all make me feel new.
i want to reach beyond this.
you know that i could use somebody
like you to take this off the top
scrap the surface
show some skin
someone like you.

childish games disguise the smiles.
under adult eyes they lie.
like snakes in the grass.
time make things different.
change makes it last.
i hope that i can use somebody.
like you.



i took a moment to myself.
to lay in the grass and look into the sky.
above me was the most vivid blue ive ever seen.
and the clouds roared a blinding white.
the ground underneath me smelled of weather and change.
with all the chaos and uncertainty that has been my life as of late.
it is good to know that one thing stays constant and true.
the sky.


stormy weather

keeps rainin all the time....


ive still got my health.


Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November;
Of twenty-eight there is but one,
And all the rest have thirty-one....

this must be the place.

its 83 degrees.
windows open.
breeze through.

its been silent.
same as the wind.
pens and paper, and glances
are all that spoken.

its obvious.
this tension between the two.

its spreads over the bed.
covers the floor like a rug.
you can find it
lost in couch cushions.
tucked away in the back of the fridge.
left like dust on the sill.

i sleep better than i thought i would.
better than before.
solid and sound.
i lie alone and to myself.
memory foam mimicking my misery.
my dreams are nothing different in the daylight.
i find it just as easily to manipulate
real life.

all this energy and emotion.
constantly wiping his heart on his sleeve.

and i,
ambivalent and ambitious.
my optimism and naivety
over shadowing the inevitable.

i grasp on.
lingering in the purgatory.
drawn gray in the homage.

all this time.
1,000 days
26,000 hours
1 million minutes
between us.

and yet i cant seem to hold onto one second of this.


so agro

all i can think about is murdering people.
on person in particular.
i am sick.
and angry
and going to jail.



Excuse me, could you please tell me how to get back on the express way?
Fuck yo mama!
Thank you very much.

im going on vacation.


it's too darn hot.

According to the Kinsey Report
Ev'ry average man you know
Much prefers his love-y dove-y to court
When the temperature is lo
And the weather is sizzling hot,
Mister pants for romance is not

'Cause it's too darn hot!


just another manic Richmonday.

i woke up a 6 am screaming at him about nothing
he went to sleep on the couch
and i did i did a sink load of dishes.
fell back asleep.

fucking aunt flow.
shes evil.
and she makes me say the most hateful things.
five minutes later.
the world is so beautiful it brings me to tears.

i have a giant bruise on my enter thigh.
from a viscous bicycle debockle
involving me.
the deli.
and J├Ągermeister
and of course.
i lost my keys.

its 1000 degrees in this city.
my henna is fading.
my vinyl is melting.
and i almost positive i saw Arthur Ashe wiping his brow.

my house is infested with mosquitoes.
and im wearing OFF indoors.
which is miserable.
i smell like summer camp.
and im scratching like a meth head.
im positive i have west nile.

and apparently we are having tilapia for dinner.
im not that hungry.
but im a glutton for punishment.
so ill eat that fish.
and my feet will swell.
and ill just go on
swatting and sweating.

best friends day.

if you dont know.
you better ask somebody.

august 20-23rd.


listen local.

from here on out.
the only music i listen to.
come from a 100 mile radius.





Art 180's 2nd Annual Jonny Z Festival!

Shields Ave in front of Joe's Inn


holga summer: part one.

in pictures.

ive been,


god protects babies and fools.

sometimes this wine taste better
when im angry.
with reason.
out of spite.

after chewing.
and nawing at you.
it compliments.

i dont understand the catch.
even at the age of 22.
i seem valid in my convictions.
you flying off.
cant handle anything.

and what?

am i to honest.
my words bitter in your ear.
does it sit.
linger in the air.
the things you most fear.

is that my fault.
blunt objects of affection.
to the best of my recollection.
you dont listen.
you could give a shit what i had to say.

or said.
in one.
out the other.

you sit there somber.
contemplating something
you havent the gull to do.

and instead of hatred.
and venom.
all that falls out my mouth.
is pity.


just once.

i want to do it.

just once.




Between 12 and 3!!

Azalea and I will have a Lemonade Stand

by the VCU Siegel Center to raise money for

the Children's Miracle Network!!

A 1$ donation gets you lemonade and a Cupcake! ♥





these beautiful memories captured by New York Photographer
Roberto Falck.

the lady is the boss!



she being Brand

-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.

K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

up,slipped the
clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she
kicked what
the hell)next
minute i was back in neutral tried and

again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing(my

lev-er Right-
oh and her gears being in
A 1 shape passed
from low through
second-in-to-high like
greasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity

avenue i touched the accelerator and give

her the juice,good


was the first ride and believe i we was
happy to see how nice she acted right up to
the last minute coming back down by the Public
Gardens i slammed on

brakes Bothatonce and

brought allofher tremB
to a:dead.


--- e e cummings



today i woke up.
feeling ill.

im always coming down with something.
the flu.
a baby.
the plague.
all of it.
i got it.

im sure im not sick.

i think its age.
and the weather.
and dieing.

im sure it stress.
and my diet.
and timing.

here i lay.
bucket and bottle.
absorbing my resources.
cause it hurts just to swallow.


fuck you and the horse you rode in on.

i wake up.
only to envision.
me ending your life.
with the very same pillow.
under your sweet asshole head.

fucking michael jackson.

i dont mean to be an piece of shit.
but okay.
we get it.
he's not Kennedy.
he's not Obama.
he's not Martin Luther King.
he didnt have a dream.
he didnt change the world.
he's was a Jackson.
1 outta 5.

sometimes i wonder where our heads are at these days.
all of this shit on our tv is propaganda.,
to distract us from the destruction at hand.
all the devastation around the world.

so much real shit.
so many other memorials we could be watching on tv right now.
so many other things i could be writing about right now.

all this news.
all this coverage.
all this distraction.
all this glitz and glamor and tribute.
we are still alive.
we are still dieing.
in real time.
not just on the radio.

take this shit a put it on a 50,000 foot plasma at the Staples Center.


you can leave your hat on.

when awake i am restless.
on edge.
trying to keep things clear.
my head.
my hands clean.
priorities straight.

ive got my vices.
smoke and the early morning light.
creaking bar stools.
empty eyes.

all of us have our sacrifices.
trying to it clean up.
our acts are well practiced.
filtered through half truth and misconceptions.

you are so perfect.
you've got everything in its right place.
i am so unsteady.
blowing and going like the weather.

but you invite me in.
and i accept.
the gloom before.
giving way to a flicker after.

this flint and match to ignite the night.




cutting off my nose to spite my face.


with out this i feel a little less.
i laugh a little more.
cry the same.

all this inside.
fast and furious.
creating turmoil and struggle.
resulting in tension.
and silence.

ill light this fire.
and burn this night.
if it means you'll cinder too.

all these band intentions.
that i failed to mention.
at the start.

violently beautiful.

only a response to stimulus.
yes intriguing.


cant see the forest, for the trees.

yet still i am steady through this.

i close my eyes.
and i am surrounded by light.
squinting i can see the darkness.
its lifting.
shedding what it once was.
for something convincing and honest.

all this oxygen.
all these lungs.
and pushing.

giving way to warmth.

i wonder how long it takes.
for things like this.
to last forever.

when does time take root.
spouting the past.
budding the present.

eyes stretched like branches.
across the sky.


Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever

explosions in the sky.
all day long.



blood & honey

as of late i have been fascinated by war
and all it entails.
Ron Raviv screams the voices of the Balkan War through these,
and i am enthralled.