Inner Demons

With a crumbling country we face the biggest Social-Political divide since the civil war.
This Lyrical Poem tells Jack’s take and much more.


There’s something innocent in thought
Theories of what’s not caught in the web
Vanish to the back
Knotted after tied in the hot headed
Hard to not get in bed
Wedded to the beliefs of the dead when its fed daily
But instead what we mean seems to flee us
Jesus died for no reason, see us
Beating, mistreating each other even when we don’t mean to
We can’t help, we’re helpless and selfish
Hope for better version of ourselves to shuffle through
So we stop hurting each other to do the things we want to do
But it’s senseless, we can’t stop even if we wanted
It’s who we are, it’s who we’ve been, it’s who we’ll be
The monsters we don’t acknowledge
Degrees wasted from college
Knowledge lost at every turn, at all costs
Lodged in our souls the demons we hope don’t grow
Ignoring them, we don’t know
They’re slowly taking control
Blinding our sight, ruining our lives
Driving the ride down the hill with the lights off
While we’re hopped on pills denying its part of us
Fighting to destroy the world we’re tried to build
Darkness we’ve tried to conceal reveals itself to have always been real as hell
A president that won’t chill but stays cold
Bold messenger birds deliver blue messages which hurt the innocent youth, the immigrant too
We don’t know what to do
Media buries the truth and we just believe what they want us to
Pin us against one another because we don’t bother to fact check each other
We’re monsters just like our four fathers

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We'll Never Admit

A political lyrics examination of history repeating itself and the denial that we are the reason and cause.


Classic tragedy
He, the bastard be
Disaster piece
In fact, lets see
What the ratchet snatched with bad habits
Lasting past due dates and black magic
Bewitched, that son of a bitch has us
He laughs at us from atop his tall towers
The flaming bush sees planes
But they can’t trump the winner of this game
This nigga is insane joking with lives in such ways
Refrains us from saying shit out of fear it’ll be our turn if we play
It’s not the way that it should be
But this world runs as a fantasy
The one he imagines it to be
Put a crown on 45
He’s won as it seems
As long as we don’t act
These words remain fact
Remain intact during his everlasting attack on our values and past
Erasing what we have just to grow his fucking stack
Chasing bitches to grab by the pussy
And we bitch, but we also laugh
We’re half the problem as to why he’s where he’s at
But we’ll never admit to that
We’ll never admit to that

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Voiceless Virtual Rage

As the internet continues to behave as the trashcan where we throw our opinions our collapse becomes more obvious from a distance.

Jack vents in this angered piece.

Many of us exist in a perpetual denial of our own design. Screaming at each other, it’s unclear if its for change or to disperse the pint up energy. Casting blame in every direction of what we feel most guilty of. Unable to control these impulses.

And we continue, and continue, and continue, and nothing ever changes.

The ever increasing rage of society which began with the children which felt neglected and voiceless, like a plague contagion spread to the adults and the elderly.
But it’s never real. Our virtual personas are the monsters. In person, we’re too coward to make the same stands, but behind the safety of our electronics we find it justified to diminish the life of another. Because they aren’t real. Because we’ve never met them.
Enlightened or not. With reason or not. We believe we are justified in a pursuit. The world must know what we know, and believe what we believe the way we believe it. Because we believe it.

We’re unable to stop. It’s who we’ve become. The pause button was lost when we gave up on developing our voices in person and now even the elderly behave like children, simply trying to disperse this brokenness we’ve been handed.

There’s no fix in sight and the rain clouds will make it over the hills soon. They’re coming our way. We’ve never seen an umbrella so there is no protection. We’re stuck screaming.

It’s what we do. We point fingers here, and…

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A thought on the madness of American’s on 6/22/18


We murder and enslave over who’s dirt is who’s, then fear crossing imaginary lines.
Yet, we allow the children to starve and the sick to die having all the resources.
We cast blame on each other and deceive one another, then struggle to trust anyone’s word.
Yet, we riot for truth and shun those who don’t lie so well.
We refuse to acknowledge when we don’t, and rather ruin things than confess.
Yet, we hold guns, make mistakes and send each other into cages knowing we weren’t ready.


They rob us and the bombs fall.

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The Great Subtraction

Kids in cages.
A Poem.

45 is smaller than 0.


I’m going to flip the shit if they crack another motherfucking whip
Can’t handle it when I can’t spit
Rambling blazed for days
Holding a fucking clip
Shit stays the same way
It’s making me sick
Staring down barrels drunk
Like we’re outta luck
In stasis sterile faces that won’t quit
Cages mistake small kids
Taken away
They can’t be seen
It seems history repeats it’s scenes
Screams don’t stop the suit’s schemes
We should be ashamed
Turn the cheek and sneak away
Cell phone in hand
Selfies behind screens
Eyes on ‘em like laser beams
Hit record on that cam
Life the video game
It’s our mask while we hide in the dark
We’re Batman
All going insane
Yelling the same phrases night and day
No response
It’s like that
No one listens and things don’t change
Deranged, we keep playing the same way
Won’t fight back
Maybe someone brave will stand and save the day
But every time we call the hero someone ends up shot
It’ll happen until we’re down to zero
The Great Subtraction in action
This extinction event is meant so we can’t repent
When the end comes through
The end meant for those that won’t do
What they want us to do
The way they want us to
That’s just for me and you

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Fighting The Crooks: Part 2

After learning the president has been lying to her for as long as she's known him, Team Leader Rachel Chambers sets out to learn the truth behind this secret facility her and her team have walked into, in this second part to Fighting The Crooks


As if a veil of lies was lifted from her, team leader Rachel Chambers is frozen. Stuck. Terrified at what her eyes can’t unsee.

Hidden from within the shadows with three of her squad mates they watch as The United States of America’s First Lady directs a heavily armed troop to prep children for slave labor.

This team, self-titled ‘The Patriots’, have been faced with the cold hard truth that their patriotism has been in the name of a corrupt government all along. Their willingness to serves blinded them from what’s been going on under their noses all along.

“What do we do, Cap?” Zack the medic asks for the second time.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I need to think,” Chambers replies. “God! This is so fucked up!” She clenches her fists and jaw fighting back the urge to gun down every guard in the facility. But knowing she’d get killed in exchange is enough to hold her back. There is more than meets the eye going on in this facility and she needs to get to the bottom of it. She needs to get revenge on the corrupt president she’s served for seven years being lied to every step of the way.

Chambers’ thoughts are fogged while resisting the tunnel vision to act immediately. “Alexander,” She says.
”Yes, sir?” The stealth recon officer asks.
”Take charge. I can’t even focus,” Chambers tells him.
”Immediately, sir.” Alexander responds. For her entire fifteen year career leading the team she’s had Alexander Paviolla by her side as her right hand. Her better and calmer judgement. Her best friend. Greatest rival. Second in command. No soldier does Chambers trust more.
”Okay, team,” Alexander begins.” We have to get…

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But 'Merca

A country of emotional jackasses with little thought.

They clearly don't understand the situation with the children.

The don't understand the adults they arrive with are not family, they are coyotes or smugglers attempting to enter the country pretending those are their children.

They clearly don't understand anyone that can prove they are related manages to stay together as a family.

They clearly don’t understand coming into the country illegally is... Well, illegal... Therefore, a crime... Thus, they are criminals just by coming in illegally. Because... Its illegal.

They forget what prison is whether immigrant or not, which is to get removed from your family and put into cell or cage for your crime. Thus, an illegal immigrant goes to prison for the crime.

The clearly don't get that there are like 17 Latin American countries these kids come from, not just Mexico, and without paperwork we don't know which.

They don't understand most of these kids show up alone anyway.

The clearly don’t understand the foster system continues to lose children and its literally safer to put them in a cage.

Trump says lets build buildings to put them in and house them and then the people scream prison and say no. Thus, a cage is the only option.

They don't understand releasing these children is impossible because there is nowhere to sent them without knowing where they came from...

But... 'Merca.

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Fighting the Crooks: Part 1

Fighting the Crooks is a Political Narrative of patriots doing what they must for their country to honor the president.


“This is the moment of truth, guys. This is where we make our stand against this liberal tyranny we continue to see,” The team leader says. “They’re no different than Hitler’s Germany. They feel it’s right to take hostile action against us for having opposing views while asking us to tolerate each action they took similar during the ruling of their leader. We will no longer stand for this!”

She raises her fist to the outcry of the other four team members,“In honor of the President!”

For several weeks they’ve planned out invading this facility to free a hostage held by the President’s opposition. The liberals, angry they’ve not yet gotten their way have begun to take drastic measures in their attempt to manipulate political choices.

This team lead by Senior Officer Chambers dubbed themselves ‘The Patriots’ upon devising a plan to rescue the hostage, the president’s wife. Originally they brought the plans to the president directly, but worried for their lives he…

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Clock is Slowing Down

A short poem about the current broken state of society.


We're all crooked, the end
We're all playing the victim refuse to sit down before the screen loud
The webbed spaceship, dead, faceless, anonymous and tasteless posting racist shit
Our thoughts are flung out into the digital crowd
The matrix, no Neo will save us now
Hoping they'll be proud we're pretending we know what we're talking about
How we feel about left or right
The red/blue pill fight stands whether day and night
Ignorance within us shines its dim light
Not quite the bright we had in sight
Machines take over in the middle of our blind plight
The sky is the limit, but we're too scared to take…

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Mourning Freedom Chapter 5: Acceptance

Acceptance is part of the patient process of winning. Something only those oppressed need to worry about. For the oppressor won’t live long.
Jack shares his thoughts in this poem.


The pendulum swing at its height
A return is in sight
We might have lost the fight
But that was game one
We ain’t done
Second game is time, son
They’ll run out, zoom
Nothing they can do to change that tune
The end comes soon
This was ain’t through

And we’re learning their ways
Filling offices each day
That realization is the source of their rage
They’re scared they…

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Mourning Freedom Chapter 4: Depression

The depression of defeat settles on the country when solutions we don’t see for the problems it’s facing.

This poem explores the situation.


It’s quiet
Quiet and we hate it
Feel long since defeated
Hope faded
Screaming just to be heard
To assure we’ve not yet drowned
To get the last word
But the ship is going down
It’s anger
Fury from knowing the race was rigged
Lost before it began
Built for someone else’s victory

It was planned
For us to fight each other
Distracted by the two puppets that...

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Mourning Freedom Chapter 3: Bargaining

Society isn't ready to deal with a strike from informed individuals. Outrage prevents the masses from learning useful tools and information. 

Jack breaks down his thoughts on the matter in this analysis of the situation. 


The quiet majority wakes
They must, for the loud majority appears more and more like those they've titled evil.

One woman's words are enough to force a community to punish even those innocent and not involved. A group generalized and treated as less for the behavior of one. The familiarity of this is astonishing.

One man's actions forced all men to cower. Wondering whether that boring date makes them a sexual abuser. The proof lies in the…

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Mourning Freedom Chapter 2: Anger

Blind by outrage and unable to function united, the world seems to be at the height of disagreement and misguided anger. Meanwhile, terror is signed into action while we scream at one another.

Jack expresses his thoughts on the matter in this poem.


Age outraged at youth
Youth outraged at age
Coexistence is nonexistent
Yet, persistence others are wrong stay static for the manic
Instistant this way is better
Fury when they won’t listen
Missing the point
We’re all suffering our own battle
While hissing at another’s struggle
Pissed saying it ain't real
It’s only real if we...

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Mourning Freedom Chapter 1: Denial

Poetic commentary on the current state of denial the average citizen of the United States displays.


It’s all hopeless
It’s all hopeless
There’s no resistance when it’s hopeless
No fighting to revoke this nonsense we invoke
It’s toxic so we choke
Nod off asleep
Maybe it’ll be gone when we wake back up
It’s not because it’s stuck
Static, the door shut
Bad habits immobilize us
Never find the keys
Never rise up
Locked behind closed doors
The top floors discourse what to…

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Driverless Country

Short Poem on society’s current confused state.


Lightning is bright at night when they're frightened. Heightened senses tense tightly, senseless. Defenses up when just about had enough. Brave cowards showered with towers of lies hidden behind flowers meant to deny the fact they want to cry. Be told “It’ll be fine,” but know that’s not true, that’s the true lie. Haunted they’re coasting, no one in control. When the ship tips and flips, capsizes, sinks, no one’ll know where it'll go.

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Stupid Americans

Poetry commenting on the current state of the U.S.


I know we all see the crazy
Pretend we don’t
We just sit and hope the whole show stops cold
And goes lost
What cost before we hop in?
What loss before we give in
Forced to behave like the villain
To win and stop blood from pilling?
It won’t change the strange atmosphere this deranged insane clown premiered
This ain’t no tame game
And we have to play to steer clear
And get the fuck out here
Veer for fear can’t be what drives
We have to strive to stay alive
As time goes by old ways..

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The Boss

A Poem commenting on America’s current interest in power displays.


Iron tipped arrow smoking the side
Walk in with nothing but pride
While the stars align
Echo of the nagger
Not good for the office her efforts go to making better
Back up
Back up
The office her strapped hand had gone to triggered
Banging headache, figures
From the office her lingering quiver slithers another one up and pulls even quicker
Hit the target with a giant middle finger
Proper execution of the duty happens when rid of the naggers
“Let’s just slate this out of the way so it doesn’t need to be dealt with another day”
Don’t be sleeping away
The office her dreams come from ain’t okay
A building of little cubes packed with slaves
Mindless it stays from day to day
Put on a blue suit and play the game

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Rattle The Cage

Steel bars for tax cuts and cold blood from hot heads
No one knows where the shit is hidden
We just know that it’s headed south where we’re living
They’ve gone flushed away the dreams and given us death and rotten plagues
Trials and tribulations, rise without hesitation
This sedation the medication they’ve given you has your brain hazed into a station tuned in for propaganda campaigns to keep you tame by telling you it is a way it ain’t
Don’t give in, don’t play
Right into their shackles, they want you rattled to engage in a fit of rage
They want to pull the stick out with you still in the cage
Keep your eyes bugged out and ready
They’ll pop up any minute
Stand now before the chance is gone
Stay steady
Before it all goes wrong

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