Warm Tears

Tears condense into poetry, poetry condenses into tears.

[warmtears]

day 0

i'm killing my alter ego of the shaved teenager with a badly slept face and bad breath. this is day number one, i'm going to roll my last zoot and go to sleep. tomorrow i'm going to wake up, have a cold shower, do 50 pressups, 50 situps and stretch for 50 seconds each muscle. i'm going to tidy my bedroom up, take all the rubbish out and make it a welcoming place.

[warmtears]

Noisy feet, i'm barefoot. (at Multiiple streets, 945 (EH))

[warmtears]

Esta semana en #945Retratos es el turno de Mínimo Detalle. El jóven MC vitoriano recientemente sacudió el panorama con "Red Collage", un disco fresco y lleno de colores que a la vez tiene muchos matices reflexivos. Un agridulce cuadro lleno de colores donde caben destacar beats de Insistenze o Shock Beats. Podéis descargar el trabajo en http://www.billythebeat.com/red-collage-de-minimo-detalle/ y seguirle en https://twitter.com/MinimoDetalle

[warmtears]

Me complace presentaros "Entre Bambalinas", el punto final a TREN33, última referencia experimental de Doc Poks. En un baño público de arquitectura distópica discurre una travesía lenta, un plano-secuencia claustrofóbico. Dirigido por Marino Pardo y producido por Harzito, "Entre Bambalinas" es la última reflexión de un artista pausado que recita mientras pasea.

[warmtears]

[warmtears]

somebody said jelly?

lighting a spliff with a candle

scratching yer belly

sunday mornings, wanna spend them with you 

wanna let you play your music

listen the popcorn pop.

[warmtears]

Sunday morning

Nothingness in days like these,

flea away where I can't touch you

let me break into the night please,

and dream away into my wet shoes

seems like it was yesterday

when I flew

seems like just another night

when you shoud be here

and you are not.

[warmtears]

Sun ('cause she shines like one)

See the lost days,

cross the forbidden ways,

count your lousy money,

pay, redeem your stay

life ain't easy honey,

I just can't live alone

even if I travelled

I never felt at home,

even if I was battered

someday I'll see the sun

[warmtears]

Drown, down, down

Our worlds are made of matches,

that burn, die and twirl

open a door, close two latches

kiss a girl, die again

and again, another whorl

every day a bird hatches

and two fly away

like a cig in an ashtray.

_

She looks at me, and kisses me

I wish I didn't know her,

oh, misses tentation

drown me in a blur.

_

[warmtears]

Cupcakes and Whiskie

Drown into a sea of waxed papers,

crumbs,

whiskie and bass-drums,

tape plays over and over again,

lying on the floor, face is numb

down her cheeks the rain.

[warmtears]

When nobody was there

When all was gone,

friends, music, shit poetry

papers on the floor like dead swans

when there was nobody

there was the forbidden

the impermissible

the proscribed

the out,

there was sex with somebody I hated

there was love with somebody I detested;

and for all those fellow puritans

I jerked off like a pig, sweating 

over layers of sweat, putrid.

Now there's somebody,

and I still love myself,

in her name.

[warmtears]

I want some 89¢ chocolate girl. Cheap, tacky and nasty.

Morning Phalosophies

[warmtears]

Midnight Tea-time

Dark long shadows thumping on the dark floor,

walking into the warm cosy dark appartment,

leaving the keys right in the door-knob,

walking into cold reality, absent slob art

boil the kettle, lob-off his boots,

my veins taste of mud

my pockets lack any loot.

[warmtears]

Yet another night alone

with my green pattern pillow,

billows breaking into my woolgather

talking to a dead father, 

with mom 'athousand miles away,

nude body with stars gazing who smile,

a'nother day, another lonely while

another djot in my police file.

[warmtears]

Zombie nippers

Ripped jacket pockets filled with booze.

empty, rotting squatting menage,

they climb through the windows with torn shoes

it's the advantage of being young,

ribbed safes and strong lungs, 

we'll never die, we choose the short fuse

drug'd up and hung up in the schmooze,

smooch that soggy girl, man

sop your hand in her pants

soppy, go happy have some fun

we're zombie nippers and we've got a stolen gun.

[warmtears]

Buttercup

It's saturday morning,

the streets are filled with men wearing slippers with newspapers in their armpits,

but, I'll lye down, mourning her death.

Let me drown into my pillow, after her blitz

bliss her little cotton socks,bless her breath,

rest in a shoe box, in her cosy feather dress;

she who was there when everybody thought i was dead in this 20 square meter dime,

drinking wine, eating little bits of bread,

bye little sweet song, au revoir my spring love, so long.

[warmtears]

Rusty Lust rests on the cold floor

Rust some call 'im,

some now him for filling it to the brim,

for his grim face when fall arrives,

for the sweat he strives,

on every bed,

on every bar maid's bony arse,

dim lights on the sloppy tiles,

there he lies, he rests; over-fucked, underfed.

With those deep grey eyes piercing the infinite.