Stepping off the stage
is completely different
from coming down.
poetry
haiku
poetrychild plays in the fountain
as i’m reading on grass
in a patch of sun light.
Essence
poetryWhen considering the final conclusion
The closing stages of a blaze soon to be extinguished
Embers glowing their brightest before at last they fade
Heartbeats ebbing to an even rhythm amidst the hearth
Radiating undulations and ashen remembrances
Furrowing to heights unknown
Trembling to hushed rest unseen
After everything the trajectory revealed
Cremated powder remnants
Charred and stained against time
But the legacy of its warmth still burning
More brilliantly than ever before
The Wants of the Many Outweigh…
poetryHe really knows how to bring a room
down
and he really knows how to keep things form
swinging
And every damn time someone turns on the
lights
there’s a shot from the basement saying (somebody’s)
“sleeping”
But be that
as it
may,
one’s usually not in
the business of keeping
a good thing
quiet.
So
Shut the fuck up
already.
i am a young tribal boy returning home to multiple arranged marriages
poetryoh marilyn,
i have returned a
man from the woods
and am arranged to
marry you,
you,
you,
and
you
but these hormones
go to waste,
this indifference
is killing me
oh marilyn,
you look so good on
screen.
Another Car Reference
poetryThe Imperative part
despite all claims against
is certainly the
brake lights
(on the dash, not
on the tail-end)
Perhaps not a warning
so much as a reminder:
sometimes it’s
impossible to stop without
Crashing.
Forgiveness and Arithmetic
poetrySeventy times seven
Equals four-hundred and ninety.
The worries me.
I’m quite convinced I’ll screw up
More than (if I haven’t already)
The square root of
22.13594362117865
And when I do,
Then what happens?
If I did wrong every day
For one year,
Four months and three days
Would I no longer be forgiven?
If 240,100 divided by 490
Is still four-hundred and ninety,
I’d only have one last chance
To never mess up again.
But fortunately,
Forgiveness is beyond numbers.
And so are you.
It’s times like these
I realize how lucky I am
To have a savior.
the fury
poetryi didn’t crash the car
last night with the 3 dollar
bottle of wine
and the worst part about that
is that i don’t want to
anymore
i didn’t walk past the
line we drew in the sand
last night
and the worst part about that
is just how bad i
wanted to
i didn’t kill anything
ever, not even a cloud
last night
and the worst part about
that is that i don’t
want to anymore
i said the worst part
about that is just how
bad i wanted to.
AUTOMOTIVE
poetryThere are times when you
feel like you need fluids
and you know you’re due for
new tread, and it wouldn’t
really hurt to maybe
flush the systems, when you
can sit back and think:
“this must be what my car feels like’
haiku
poetryrain soaks the world;
i’m inside with sigur ros on low
murakami in hand.
Tanka
poetrySummer nears her end.
One last adventure before
August disappears.
Last hurrah and sweet farewells
As an Autumn breeze drifts in.
you can literally feel
poetryi move mountains in my head
with giant engines running lean
when i am on bottom i am surely
truly on top,
and that stands backwards, too.
i see the white brick walls
growing around this apartment
complex as we speak,
and when it comes to take you
if you let it,
it will,
and there you will be.
there are men waiting just outside
of this door who want me to
slave under them,
put myself in front of bullets,
why i might do it to stave the
advancement of these white brick
walls still growing around
this apartment complex as i
write this.
it is proven that i am to plug in
sign up
log on
and put these engines towards
social and human progress,
nevermind the definition of progress.
phd,
ba,
manager,
associate,
how high can you jump?
how quickly can you do it
when commanded?
when i am on bottom, i am surely
on top,
and that works backwards too,
i think.
Curtain Call
poetryYou’re so much different
Than the others
She said.
I kept my face expressionless
But inside I was cackling.
Different?
I’m no different.
I came out of the same
Mold as the rest of ‘em.
Different.
Ha!
Let her think was she wants.
I put on a good show.
on: dying/right now
poetrySIT AND SIT
UNTIL YOUR NERVES
FREEZE OFF
COLD?
NOT ANYMORE
HOT?
NOT ANYMORE
PULL THE CEDAR CHIPS
AROUND YOUR PROSTRATE
BODY,
HAMSTER.
One Long Night.
poetryA long shot with an
interesting pair.
I’ve no idea what I
just finished, though I
was certain when I signed up,
what I signed up for.
But, when all things are
considered,
one thing is unswervingly
certain:
The deal was clinched
when the nacho cheese was
purchased
may i have this dance?
poetrythe highways are empty
tonight
there is a blanket
of apathy over the
clouds
did someone soundproof
this room?
no,
did,
someone mute this room?
why,
i can hear the
bells in the distance.
when my interwebs done
poetryshut down on me
and slow is all i can go
i long for my words to hit
the page
for in the same way
i cannot think without
moving my mouth
i cannot poetrize
without moving my
fingers
and lack of the interwebs
has me down.
luncheon with mr. pig
poetryi sit at a luncheon with mr. pig,
there are mannequins across the street
whose silence is very, very loud
they all ask me:
“what are you doing for employment”
“no no, i am dreaming”
“what do you do for fun?”
“well it comes at forty bucks,
and then it’s gone”
just at this very moment
at that very second
a shot of red danced around
from the left of my left eye
to the right of my right eye
and i said “who was that?”
and they said
“why do you ask so many questions?”
Over Again.
poetryMonumental
though no one else can
see it.
Drink deep,
Lay back,
Smile.
It’s simply, simply,
wonderful.
Reflections on Pop Music Lyrics
poetryIf you were a rich girl
If you had all the money in the world
If you were a wealthy girl
The money wouldn’t be an applicable currency
So if you had all the money in the world
If wouldn’t be worth anything
Which means you wouldn’t be a rich girl
No men would test you, nor try to impress you
And your cash flow would never begin
If you had all the money in the world
You’d be a destitute girl
Aside from an enormous collection of paper
Na na na na na na na na na na na (x3)
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