Alcides G. Gutierrez, Jr.

  • this is another reason i like my neighborhood
  • glad to see a new project coming
  • mother’s lovers

    mother’s lovers

    By Alcides G. on October 5, 2014

    And they stay on widdit. Mother’s lovers actin’ like they know.
    But they don’t know mole from mold. And they don’t know code from cold.
    Cost the whole controlled potential opponents to overflow.
    And they stay on widdit. Mother’s lovers actin’ like they know.

    And the tears they just begin to pry and the fears they just begin to hide,
    There’s one right place to try for them to accrue new wealth and that’s inside.

    And they stay on widdit. Mother’s lovers actin’ like they know.
    But they don’t know show from sow. And they don’t know soul from sold.
    Lost the goal to gold and grow to old you-know-whats loathing all their woes.
    And they stay on widdit. Mother’s lovers actin’ like they know.

    And as the years they keep a runnin’ by and the fields they keep a runnin’ dry,
    There’s no one left alive to place the blame on for their own demise.

    And they stay on widdit. Mother’s lovers actin’ like they know.
    But they don’t know foe from bro. And they don’t know bro from foe.

    Dost thou hold true what the tongue hast told or hast thou lost the reins of thine own soul.

    Mother’s brothers want to know.

  • leather

    leather

    By Alcides G. on August 20, 2014

    Brief case. Wheat laced. Ask them what those fiends take. Sweet gaze. Cheeks blazed. Crooked what her teeth say.

    Peak haste. Seek grace. Geometric street maze. Offerings. Please take. Whores on powdered leaf base.

    Catch the lips’ attention on a mention of a clean plate. More than whats afforded by a purchase for a sweepstakes.

    Catch a missed connection with affection for a lean waist. Extortion aborted by engineering with a mean face.

    Clean slate. Clean skates. Circuit jockey-clean gates. Processing. Please wait. Trojan horses. Leaked waste.

    Wash them with a clean taste. Chocolate covered cream cakes. Sodomized with trees flaked. Rocky roads and sweet glaze.

    Work them at a lean wage. Bonding for a weak rate. ETFs on deflate. Write them off for rebates.

    Hungry for it, why wait. Snickers over beef steaks. Cabernets from ‘88. Pinkies up and play it straight.

  • Old Jazz

    Old Jazz

    By Alcides G. on August 14, 2014

    I’m from cold streets.
    With dirty weathered sneakers.
    And y’all can’t change me.
    I don’t wanna be ya.

    Y’all counterfeit riches.
    And glorify sin.
    And I think its senseless.
    There’s more in life than this.

    I’ve searched for the Truth.
    And knocked from door to door.
    Asked me to keep aloof.
    So I travailed to the source.

    If I betray my people.
    God strike me down with lightning.
    Ten thousand knives in my eyes.
    Hang me like a tyrant.

    Now I make big things.
    How you wanna bring it?
    Cause I make clean strings.
    You don’t wanna see me.

    Y’all bring stale mates.
    Masters mind winds.
    And I bring a quiver filled.
    With the family vanes.

    Eight by eight.
    Horseback as spring breaks.
    Make haste and keep pace.
    Or stay across the lake.

    Eighty-one seen shapes.
    Donkeys dance and lose the way.
    Cousins ripping off the page.
    Nephews dip the brush in paint.

    Simple minds play games.
    Simpler minds win.
    Tender minds may makes flames.
    Open minds dim.

    If you want treaties.
    Makes concessions.
    Don’t taint a clean handshake.
    With insincere skin.