cliff notez

Letter to my Unborn Child

I would donate my cardiac system for your happiness

Your smile will become my heartbeat

I will find glory in the days when you are naïve to my imperfection

Too young to judge the mistakes you’ll never understand


I will love you more than myself

You are much more than a second chance

More than an epiphany of brilliant angels

A decadent being, dressed in the likeness of my soul

Clothed in the skin of mine and my soul mate


I pray you love like asthma;

painfully and breathlessly

I pray you understand that they are one in the same

I pray you love like insomnia

May life be more fruitful than the cousin of death


Be wise enough to learn about mistakes

And how they mold spirits

And dissolve with the taste of forgiveness

Learn to apologize in portions

“make monumental and irreversible mistakes”

learn to gain from regrets

find value in its potential advantages


Life is confusing,

and will be a mystery you may never solve


we never know what we have until its gone

so do not spend too much of your life trying unpuzzle

something you will never understand

until the day you die


be captivating, charismatic, courteous, and worth it

never sell yourself cheap,

never sell yourself


I do not own you

But I will be the first and last to love you


8/30: Cliff Notez "Symphony of Dying [After Na]

May my casket have the best acoustics

Let trumpets sing Miles Davis

And 12 bar medleys 

crescendo around my obituary


 Hendrix rhythms

dance to the sound of my eulogy

May my six-foot grave 

be a concert hall

Celebrating the song of my ashes


 place 8th notes over my eyelids

scribe my tomb stone with quarter rests

pizzicato violins intertwining 

with a cello harmonizing Debussy hymns

may my soul rest legato


I hope they sing around my body

Let them remember

how it soothed me

Remind me how I spoke in cadences

How I owed my life

To sheet music and steel strings


synchronized music

of these measures

With the sound of my heartbeat


Self-Inflicted Inspiration

After failing to uncover inspiration

For the 52nd time in one hour

You begin to question your worth

Confront the illogical comparisons

Remind yourself;

 you are not Mozart

Not a hint of Rembrandt in your blood

You are the predecessor of your past

A story untold to millions of eyes and ears 


We can recap the souls of every genius on Wikipedia

Your mind is a brand new episode

In an ongoing television series.

We will only tune in

If you are showing us something

We have never seen before


When feeling your mind is empty


you’re mind is not meant for equivalence




Welcome derision.


If your ideas are not offending someone

They are not innovative

We are here to challenge the consistent

The liberals are the seed of progress


Your mind is a sponge

With brilliance matriculating

and hiding

In every pore

There Is not one ounce of empty

In your genius of a mind. 

3/30 "Kings of Corners" (Cliff Notez)

He’s been hugging these curbs for some time now,
The corners,
more like curves
To a goddess,
He praised the stoplights like Magec
Worshiping the silhouette of dawn,
as if Apollo
He is superstar
in this ghetto of a mind

Must have been lustful
How he fiend for these blocks
like whiskey on Thursdays
These days,
All look like Thursday
How they defined the line of wino and addict
He’s lived inebriation for centuries
with a tongue that hasn’t spoken sober
since the last time he lied

To a 14 year old girl in Brooklyn
He is deadbeat,
He is failed relationships
He is trust issues
but to the broken pyramids of these projects
he is drunken pharaoh


She is Gold 

Treated like oil,

and cherished like diamonds

she is precious; an emotional hook grabbing by vital veins 

vicarious pain felt in the likes of accidental love. 

what do you really need besides a place to rest your head 

lips to share your love with 

and hands to catch you when you fall?

This is Existential affection 

buried deep in the crevices of our cardiac systems 

dug out from the teeth in your smile 

strategically placed in the corners of your eyes

so my goal has always been to never let you drop a tear 

I’m too afraid of being lost in your sorrow.

The history of us leaking down your face 

and lost in the abyss that once looked like your chest

you are much more than a relationship 

much more than the souls we had mistaken for angels

much more than the scars that decorate our skin 

telling our history like braille 

much more than the intangible mistakes

hidden in the up keeps of our minds

you are golden. 

6/30: Cliff Notez "Ode to the magical negro"

Ode to the magical negro


How they tried to impress

 the oppressed

and it only led to depression

you are stock

generic and replaceable

sole purpose

to be the souls surface

of a color

opposite of your pigment

you serve no other benefit

but to give advice

to a  man already advanced

how they don’t know

how we know these things

like we ain’t learn to overcome

from the heel of their foot

they set barriers

we conquered

now all we have to offer

is the image

of these scars on our Adam’s Apple

and tell the story

of how the devil deceived