Talkativeness is diarrhea of the mouth;
βέƦẙḽ Dṏṽ the Smartass Rabbi

Talkativeness is diarrhea of the mouth;
Silence is constipation.

Diarrhea boom...

Diarrhea boom...
I am sweating on this silent throne,
Cold is my sweating double lump, my butt-ox.
Dripping sopping is my hole, wet for you, my boo.
That is my plural drip, my dipping turd flow, Niagara.
Ookatini flip, my pencil fell in.
Fish it out with my hand.
Ooh, Telpavin.  Time out time, sitting on the toiley.
There is no doiley to conceal this mess.  Ten sixteen.
3 A.M.
7 A.M.
I'm not even wiping yet.
My dad comes in from working the steel mill.  He needs the can.
I cannot.
Offer him.
I wiped for hours.
Then I pooped again.
Like an elephant.
I need a colostomy bag.
Diarrhea Boom part 5

Eating bad Taco Bell...
not knowing that fart's a shit.

Taco Bell

was covered with black diarrhea
Kongsaeng Chris Everson

So my elderly mother
who I am taking care of
was in bed
for a month or so
and she yelled to me
that she had to go
to the bathroom
but she couldn't stand up
so she told me to change
her protective underwear
and when I did
I saw that she
was covered with black diarrhea
so I cleaned it off
as best I could
and she tried to stand up
but collapsed on the floor
so I called 911
and the men came
and said
"Internal bleeding".

oh my beautiful,
so cramped up inside.
please don't cry.

#love   #hate   #thoughts   #blood   #10w   #fuck   #women   #cunt  

I was burning a cigarette down
when the stomach cramps struck.

So I ran to the bathroom and
spouted methane gas from my ass,
then shat out four beers
and nine shots of brandy.

The tip of my smoke glowed
bright orange and ignited
my feces, blowing everything
to kingdom come.

I found peace there,
mixed in with blood and shit.

Jun 17      Jun 18

as i approach 50 I think
how did this getting old I mean.
I know the alternative is not that appealing...
but perhaps a granting of my own personal groundhog day is a worthy doesn't matter which.
I could craft most any day of my life into something spectacular!
Is that wisdom?
After almost half a century, I've surmised to be suspended in time the best I could ask for? well maybe, perhaps then I could amend all my imperfections... reform all the mistakes I've made and re-emerge a better man...
just now it occurs to me...this could be my groundhog moment...the epiphany that the next 50 years brings me living a life well thought... more compassionate, more open, more giving, more alive!
....more likely, just more use of adult diapers...

these thoughts occurred to me in 2012, as I contemplated my impending birth date.
Verbal diarrhea

Remind me with a stern voice
How liberal and open you are
Implying I should be thankful
You put up with me at all
Verbal diarrhea
About how you worry
But there's no concern for me
Only the reminder of what you conviently
Forget to see

I'll be showered with compliments
As long as the aesthetics fit
What you planned for me
You'll hide your distaste behind
Tateless humour
Question your past life decisions
With peppering of nervous laughter
I'm a lot to deal with for you
And for him
How could I be so insensitive!?

I can't tell you anything
I learned that long ago
But still I get inspired to try
To break the fear that if I live
My life where you can see
I'll be in big trouble
You assume your world is safe
Once I've back pedalled some more
But act so damn surprised
That when I moved out, I moved up

And I'm more than convinced the only thing
That needs strapping down is your mouth
Because you're talking shit
I'm sick of hearing this
That same old story about how you dreamed
Of how your daughter would look
So unlike you and your hang-ups
Is this all you birthed me for?

You don't honestly believe I'll get cancer
Or break my ribs
You're just scared that what you guessed
About your brood was true all along
So unorthodox are we not?
Half these chaotic genes are yours
So man up for once! (Besides, I do...)

About my mum's attitude to pretty much everything I've done with my life, with more focus on identity stuff
Jan 29, 2014      Jan 30, 2014

I was burning the midnight oil. There was not a candle in front of me. Just lights that never wavered. I was wondering what the night might hold. I heard the clock and chimes as the cold wind blew into my house. The bells belonged to my neighbours. I did not sleep a wink that night.

I don't remember what happened two days ago, but I was glad my mind was too tired to overthink. I fell asleep early that night to music I liked.

I had the urge to destroy myself in the evening but a friend brought a smile to my face just in time. She didn't know. I don't know if I was grateful that she foiled my plans. I thought that the worst place to ever be was between ok and not ok. Sometimes I don't know who I am anymore.  Sometimes I feel accomplished just by deciding which way to walk so I wouldn't run into the person walking in front of me. Sometimes I rather not have a family and I can't recall the reason why. I hate the me I do not know, my mind is revolting. I am in this by myself, no one is as hateful as me. I lose my thoughts a lot because my mind never stops running and searching for the scattered pieces. I don't fancy the idea that being emotionally unstable is now a personality trait. I used to show my anger to everyone but not anymore. I just want to be alone and write and write and write and write. Funny how a week ago I was too numb to feel a thing. I couldn't feel and I couldn't write and I did not feel alive. Then there's a sudden realisation that there is so many people around me, I do not fancy this idea. I did not have the intention to get better. I still watch everyone like a hawk, and I realised sadness makes you forget things. I was late for school today. I promised a teacher I will never be late again. I hope I keep my promise.

It's night time now and I am thinking about how I used to wonder how it will feel to step out onto the road and crash head on headlights. I travelled to an old friend's house to lend her a chemistry textbook. She still sounds the same and I missed how we used to laugh together. I passed by the market and remembered how my mum used to prop groceries in the pram and leave me to my own tiny feet. I forgot if I preferred walking, or my mum pushing me on the wheels. I remember how I wanted to leave this place, now I am just afraid I might have nothing to look back on. Sometimes when it rains, I want to go outside. I haven't been out getting close and getting hurt and I wonder if that's a good thing. I have thoughts that replaced regrets and devastation, but it still leads to nowhere. I was thinking, maybe I've suffered long enough to know that things will be okay.

It's been a few days and I still do not know whether to eat blueberries or strawberries. I did not notice the sidewalk cracking. I wonder if I have recovered because I am back to where I started. If you insist,  label me as someone who was too "lazy" to get better. They say to never let anything be your happiness because they can be taken away, but I don't think I ever knew what makes me happy. My dad finally got a sofa today but I liked the feeling of my back against the ground. I get affected so easily, little things change me and I can't recall a time I was ever me. I'm not sure how long I will stay awake tonight. I realised you don't always need a knife to- I am indefinite.

joe chekanowsky
Mar 5, 2010

Temperature raised.
Five bone shiver syllables.
Parent. Haiku-er.

Five winter sick syllables.
Parent. Haiku-er.

Projectile vomit.
Five flu season  syllables.
Parent. Haiku-er.

Temperature raised.
Five kids splash in backyard pool.
Haiku-er. Parent.

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