Spoken Words: Poems by Infinite the Poet

The Late 70’s in the Bronx

November 4th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

Lobby games of dice, In these lobby games many people lost their life, for
tampering with a die, old time hustlers selling hash, trey bags of grass,
deranged old military men that used to shoot down bogees and gun down
charlies, lost their mind, beg for stoggies and kept a fifth of the hardest
wine, this is the late 70’s, in this project neighborhood of mines. Brothers
with afros with the black power fist in picks, spanish kids wearing
guallaveras with a tight fit , drive in theaters, everyone sitting in their
cars rolling joints of cheeba mixed with hash, speaker on window, listening
and watching sonny chiba kick some ass, old timers trying to be sugar daddy
to young girls that grew up without a father, young guys doing errands for
the older cats hustling, police knocking on doors when no answer they bust
it in, fort apache, crooked cops doing illegal investigations, no warrants
for the drugs and money they were taking, guardian angels vs black sheep,
cassanova vs zulu, uptown vs cross town, jams in the park till sundown,
scraped off tops on metal cans to aim the water from the hydrant when its
hot to keep us hydrated, there was no pools, this is how the ghetto kept

Infinite the Poet 2011
Albert Carrasco

The Depression

October 24th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

We live in a vegetated state, but no trauma, from the reganomics to obamanation, we
are still forced to wear body armor, because of the economy, and what its doing to the
nation, rent over do, repo men looking for cars, credit cards maxed out, an epidemic
called a recession, spreading like sars. So some go back to what they once knew, that
ghetto mix, hood brew, supreme courts, no misdemeanors, baking soda h20 then the
eina, lethal, so the body armor goes on for those with intent to leave you, why? Cause
there’s people that want what we do, but they rather wait for us to get it, rather than
them starting a foundation of their own, they shoot for the dome, do jail time, and try to
explain to the board, why they regret it, and why they should come home, but a killer
free to roam ,the board don’t condone, an un guided predator drone making blind
decisions shouldn’t live amongst the blasphemous citizens with whom they once lived
with, politicians politic about laws for selling drugs, we get life, well ill poetically politic
About politicians buying love their paying for “crack” going in “raw” love child’s, so many
cheat on their wives, they should be placed in institutions, for politic pollution,
governmental prostitution. Schwarzenegger cheating on shriver, They turn a blind eye,
while he turns into the terminator gives the word to san quentin and watch tookie die,
who do we complain to? No one! Like william cooper I can tell you to behold of the pale
horse, martial law and the ideas of the illiuminati, with my voice I’m an anomaly, so I spit
in spritz, so I don’t piss off thee authorities, I lay low with my awakened mentality,
Sometimes I let go the brain flow, to let you know, their treating us like animals, their
screwing us bestiality, somebody call the aspca animal brutality. That’s “A special
protective citizens authority”

Infinite the Poet 2011
Al Carrasco

I’m at a Crossroad

October 24th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

I’m at a crossroad

On the left side its past

On the right is the future

I’m walking on the present time

Looking to the left I see a wave of destruction

Due to my life of crime

Drugs, Jail, death ,the irony is I see the faces of friends of mines at the same time

For what we did in the past those faces are not here with me at the present

That’s what lead me to this crossroad

Standing at the present, I look back and these guys no longer WALK the earth, but they do FILL it

There worth, they will never fulfill it

We were just kids

Now I have kids, I can’t picture them doing what we did

I can’t picture watching them die, like some of our parents did

I’m at this crossroad looking to the right now, the future

For what I learned in the past, I bring forth to the present, what needs to be taught for the future

And that is… That there is one, and that we are not one of gods forgotten sons

Infinite the Poet 2011
Al Carrasco

If I

October 24th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

If I hold your hand will that be ok? In the middle of a random convo If i just kiss the words back into your mouth would that be ok, would you push me away? Or would you pucker up and talk the rest of our convo in tongue? French that is. im so touchy feelly not disrespectfully, romantically, like intertwined pinkys, or my hands massaging your scalp as I run my fingers through your hair, while in an intimate stare. If I grab your lower back, place my hand right on top of the vicky strap, not to touch the apple bottom, just to pull you closer would that be a problem?

I’m nowhere near shy, just a little quite, do you mind that? You have to be the aggressor, like helen keller use your hands to see me, sense me touch me like my body is braille, body language never fails. Are you ok with this?

I don’t ask for much, just a lil affection, so I’m asking you this question. If I…….

Infinite the Poet 2011
Al Carrasco

The Uniform

October 24th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

I’m in the corner watching all the other kids in uniform playing sports, I’m in the corner watching because the uniforms were 50 dollars, I was living damm near squalor, so many eviction notices I thought me bros and moms would be new squatters, I can’t ask mom for the uniform, it would be wrong.
I would rather eat than to wear cleats, so I lounged in the corner just wishing- “those kids look great I wish that was me”. I wanted that uniform

Then one day hello, I was welcomed to the terror dome of misery, misery said he had good company so he invited over the devil, I heard a lot of bullshit in my life, immediately as he started talking I sensed deceit, I thought something’s not “right” he was speaking dark and it was broad daylight, I said somethings wrong with this man, so after the mumbo jumbo he reached out, but I didn’t touch his hand!. But I did follow his terror plan. I wanted that uniform!

He said I’m gonna give you something for free, sell it to the company of misery for 5 bucks a piece, when you finish you can’t see me, go to my counterparts when its time to re. Use the root of evil that I gave to thee, play monopoly with my blood money. I said ok. I was poor it wasn’t greed, he took advantage of a lost seed in need. it was draining me, literally right after puberty two slugs hit me, blood gushed not just leaked, so many cc’s of a+ stained the streets, it was killing me, dead or alive I wanted that uniform!

20 years later I sent the devil with misery to hell, the plan he gave me really was the recipe for the ultimate fail, I was failing. Mornings were mourning, alarms were mommas wailing, from that life I’ll forever refrain, I’m a legit business man, so randomly ill go to parks, look for the kid in the corner, tell them to extend their hand- hand them” the uniform” I dreamed of, so their life and mines won’t be the same…

Infinite the Poet 2011
Al Carrasco

Hello Everyone My Name is Infinite

October 12th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

Hello everyone my name is infinite! Before it was infinite they called me statistic, that wild puerto rican kid from the south bronx goes ballistic, 5 6 but don’t get it twisted, you’ll get lifted, besides his napolean syndrome, in any hood he’s respected as corleon, I say yeah next to diamonds in the rough I’m a sierra leone! Most drank 40’s of ole e, I was straight moet and chandon, wasn’t gang banging, we were a bunch of che guevaras, trying to make life more better, threw bombs to my dogs like mike vic, in the boonies in the bricks, our jerseys were guayaberas, turned a nyc housing authority lobby into la perla puerto rico!, with this place if your not familiar, ill just say on vaca this isn’t a place I recommend you go.

My roots run deep so I planted myself into these new york streets, a few branches sprouted a Whole tree, in a forest unseen. I was a ray of hope to the reys(kings) and (reinas) that couldn’t cope, they saw when I came and went, hear none see none, I helped with compra( food shopping) and rent.

I know it sounds dark, and wasn’t a loan shark, but when there’s no stamps or ebt and pockets empty, they didn’t mind me lending from what I made in the park. I know some might criticize, by all mean do, I’m not trying to glamorize, nor advertise, that would be disrespectful to the dead men in my crew, my retinas recorded I’m in playing it back for you, what I went through, what my crew went through, so maybe some can avoid it. In the hood my names exploited, if there was a hood pope I probably will be anointed, my peoples know I’m an anomaly, moms is christian while dad was god body, moms had me watching david and goliath, while dad made me quote the 1 – 36, and learn what the 7 * ( is, I went to a mosque and a church, I was reincarnated two times through mental birth but at the same time, I love rice and beans, I just don’t do swine. My thoughts run richly rampant reaching realitys realm of righteous religions, my brain rambunctiously races to revive non evolving radical minds.

My people, I know I look like a thug and that I’m probably “packn”, your right I grew up a thug life, I don’t carry a gun that’s for those c74 sons, but my mind is strapped for any given time like the tribe of shabbazz I can cause a verbal explosion. Chronic causes cranium corrosion, I can’t lie I grew up smoking lye, it made it easier. Because it was too hard to say goodbye to my men of yesterday, now I don’t need cannabis today to catch mind convolutions to let this pen bleed out like some poetical potion!

Hello everyone my name is “infinite”!

Infinite the Poet
Albert Carrasco

I Always Wondered but Never Thought

October 12th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

I’m a star! House, jewels, since 15 I had a car, I was living the illegal life, I lived by the sword some died by the knife, I continued to swing the excalibur for a big part of my life, I wondered

God blessed me with this caramel complexion, green eyes, and the gift of gab, dudes would pray to get the attention I have, my chicks were bad!, or was it because I had all this cash, I was running the trap, ace duece trays, livn fast, running from cops, 20 yard dash, I wondered

When everyone when out, I stood indoors, smoking indo, baggn up all day earths poisonous minerals, we called it material, made wives widows, girlfriends that lost boysfriends in jacobi or montefore, now speak to ghost like demi moore, they lucky they got me, I got the power to her the dead like whoopi, all do to the water soda eina, them cookies, I wonder

Would I run around like a chicken with no head?, would I go hungry if I stop doing what I was doing, to make sure my family was fed, would my cash flow end? What would I do for endz? Will the chicks still fuck with me, just cause of the color of my pretty eyes, and my complexion?, or was it all about the currency? Would I be able to ball? Will I have fame? Or would everything change? This is what I wondered while still in the game!

I never thought ill leave
I never thought past 30 ill still breathe I never thought I can still support my family I never thought my pointer and thumb would ever stop being numb I never thought, I would be infinite the poet such a bright sun I never thought I could make mom more proud of her son

Infinite the Poet
Albert Carrasco


September 30th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

Writing is a passion deep inside of me caged up so anxious to be released, words not spoken can’t feed a thirsty mind waiting to eat, so I’ve decided to speak to the ones that wanna be fed instead of holding these thoughts inside my head.       You see my vision of happiness was chasing money, being a drug seller or a gun runner any thing to keep my pockets full I did for the capital, at sixteen I was shot twice, took two for the team,but in the emergency room I lay there like damn all this for that cream, I was too blind to see what the pursuit of currency was doing to me, At this time I should of realised I was on the wrong path to the riches, in the E R undergoing surgery and getting stitches, I walk around with a bullet to this day, but to me for that cash its a small price to pay, even out the hospital doors I’m on the phone trying to make my money soar,blinded to what this game had in store.   Cars jewelry ,stick up kids trying to do me, groupies on line trying to screw me,living life like a movie,no script no actors,real men of my stature didn’t surrender the thought of possessing that legal tender,   Celebrity stats fully auto gats cause me to wear kevlar on my back,32 shot clips, stash box in whips,  blinding light in rear to disappear when danger was near.

It was a catastrophic curriculum where I’m from in the slums to sell drugs and bust guns cause of the fear of being bums,    isolated from the real world we continued the life style that we knew bangn and hanging in our housing vestibule living life by our rules advice by others not needed and when it was given it wasn’t heeded,     now I got cash but time has taken precious things from me, friends I rolled with and shared my bliss most are dead and so dearly missed, it is what it is I can’t change what was written this game is full of snakes and even the strongest get bitten,   bad decisions in search of fame in this game will leave u lifeless, well I was smart and decisive in a game that’s as cold as is, fun in this life didn’t last for some,was like speedn in a car till It ran out of gas to them, my tank was always full and I kept a chauffeur, living the life of la castro nostra.    Inner city kids in an inner city struggle with no direction, just the ghettos reflection of kids needing attention.   time has passed by so fast just like most of the guys I lost in this oppression ,   I continue to live life with the few that are still alive, for different goals we strive, no more fast life were taking slow strides no more funerals to make moms and wives cry, all I wanted was not to be poor, not to have my friends sent early knockn on heavens door.  The choices that are made as a kid sometimes devastate us as adults,so I want the youth to see that the game is really fantasy! So those that looked up to me in the streets,  I want them to continue to look up to me but for something positive, not cause the life I lived.  So I ll share my scars, my losses and my bad choices to enlighten a few on what this game will bring.  the street history is a story of  destruction,  corruption, a pattern of misery.   At 38 Im still feeling the wrath of that passed life I lived in,waiting anxiously for a few to b e released from prison 17. 20. 40 year bids for things we did as kids.   the game ended for me and a few,but there’s still those to have to see there sentence through.     U know how sad is to see the children of my fallen soldiers grow up with out a father.   My father died when I was twelve and so did my childhood, So there outlook on life to me is very sadly understood.

al carrasco


The Clubs

September 30th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   1 Comment »

Take a trip with me down memory lane.


Who remembers when” John gungie Rivera” first started to dj?

Freestyle is what he played at them old school Jams in kips bay


Who remember the chez sensual?

We used to walk there, to westchester, we didn’t need our cars


Who remembers ” la mirage”? Over on Fordham the Mecca of beautiful

Spanish girls, if you went there you would of saw them


Who remembers club morocco? A lil upscale Spanish spot on the lower west side

All the older cats popping bottles in side. It was 21 and over I was 16, looked grown and

had doe so they let me slide


Who remembers ” heart throb”? This was the era of tuck in your rope chain cause

You might get robbed

Gun battles with l.e.s would never stop, I remember one night 3 of my boys ( mike ears ,

crazy mike and Danny) got popped


Who remembers “10 18” .? I remember being next to l l cool j in VIP before he was

rocking bells, young bx castle hill dudes were ringing bells


Who remembers roseland? This place was like a scene straight out of gangland,

Every crew repping their hood steady banging


Who remembers the octagon? It was right off the west side highway,

In those days what kept us wet, was popping unlimited bottles of moet


Who remembers the copa? I used to go there wearing my gucci shoes

Linen suits, and my finest jewels


Who remembers the palladium? And a block over Webster hall? This is where the

ballers went to ball, so me and Orlando was killen them all


Who remembers Kelly furniture on the blvd? I remember this place with it’s freestyle

extravaganzas, we used to lock down that whole block, on aldus is where we stashed

the bangers


These were the real club days who remembers?


Infinite the poet 2008

al carrasco


Spoken Words

September 30th, 2011   admin  Uncategorized   No Comments »

Hello world! My name is Cristian. I had diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma, it’s a tumor in the brain stem, my daddy fought so very hard for me, with me, stood by my side while I was asleep, talking to me, holding my hand, he told me he loves me more than any dad can, just love couldn’t ease my pain, so I was called on, and I am with the first five letters of my name. Although I am only 7 god had a place for me in heaven, he’s the best doctor of medicine, I’m strong, I can run really fast, me and the kids here play all day, it’s lots of fun and games, dad I’m really the conductor of my very own toy train! I still watch JJ the Jet Plane, and Caiou, I know how bad you wish I can watch it with you, so do I, daddy I’m watching you closely, just up here in the sky, the kids are calling me now I gotta go, I just want to say bye dad see you in your dreams, I love you… Choooo choooooooo

By Infinite the Poet A.K.A. Al Carrasco

My Bio

Albert Carrasco is not only a spoken word artist, but also a motivational speaker, using his words to uplift young people faced with the same difficult life choices as he was. Growing up in the Bronx, New York, Carrasco lost his father at age 12 and within four years he was arrested, shot twice and dealing drugs. He saw so many of his friends die off and he couldn’t stand the idea of his newborn son growing up into that life, so 12 years ago Carrasco turned his life around. He began to write poetry as a release, tapping into the harsh lyrical honesty that continues to permeate in his writings

Author Infinite the poet
Albert carrasco
lulu.com infinite poetry