” unlocked treasures – life of the party ” – everyday poetry 111

unlocked treasure

on my ride back to the closet in Skid Row LA i wrote this in the brain drain of getting nothing done strain, and yes it was mostly on the train

so At Wellness Works of Glendale at the Veterans Welcome Center – it was 3 Veterans Erick, Adam, and Rick, and i walked in just as they were through… it was hard to get up today… hard to get out today, difficult it was – so there i was and read this, listened to that which they wrote today… wish i could put all of it here for U to read…

well, it is not as such, and our fearless leader was not there today… so here it is

Monday, September 23, 2013 @ 23:06:21


Unlocked treasures – the life of the party


blowhole of the inebriated opened wide in a double spewing lane

can she take it down a couple notches

yes, and it is appreciated as to allow the eyes of 23:0621 to have a bit of peace

in the cooling down of another sunken treasure fallen to the depth of the sea that is me…

oh, it turns out she vacated the train

but still I hear the echoes of her spirit

loud as hell to wherever now she is walking.


and so that buried treasure beneath the sands in a depth of the recondite color feeling the cool blue caress  in hopes of depicting the actual torment of a profound ocean soul

it has been buried there before

or is this another, a part of the same gems that time and time again tried to surface

and who the hell keeps sinking it, weighting it down

to seeing frowns taking down smiles that did not quite make the entire day full of sunshine


the life of the party,

this celebration of life in the fullest circle of optimism for one and all

to be able to walk in the shoes of who they want to be

and not who they are trapped to be

because of no escape out of the realities

poverty & or oppression to not being able to stand against the manipulating force[s]

constructing sharp steel fences with points atop like spears soraring to the skies in 9’s to ple feets and concentina ripblade razor wire

to the only bling one can see


see it bouncing from that blackened filth made mirrored reflections between the trash in the puddles of dew & piss

from those who missed th e public restroom too far down the streets to walk only to wait in line for those who made it


so the buried treasure somewhere around here

hoping someone can find it, realize it, recognize the difference of the jewels covered in the muck not mine

but the dump those selfish freaks keep polluting the sea

continually suffocating the life right out of me!


so go to www.kennethjames.us or find me @ kenneth james – fine art (google it) or follow the link

read my art and behold my poetry

find the pictures they paint new pictures in your head

gather all the colors

use them as inspiration before you go to bed

these that you discern are the veracious

today at the Veterans Writing Workshop – our fearless leader Lailani was missing, so it was three of us Veterans and then i showed up for 4 at the last few minutes


Unlocked Treasures – [used] to be the life of the party



just off @ little Tokyo

waved goodnight to the conductor

and the other person,

she paused too

but now walked off ahead of me


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