Ignore the words they throw at you.
Ignore the hurt they make you feel.
Because they don't know you.
Not like I do.

{Jo(e)}

Everyone always asks
What's your idea of paradise?

Paradise isn't white sand and blue water
Or warm weather and palm trees

Paradise is driving 10 miles over the speed limit
And eating Mcdonalds

Paradise is buying jalepeños
And listening to Nickelback

It's not mountains and snow
Or the sound of rain

Paradise is falling asleep on skype
And saying waka waka

Paradise is cuddling on bean bags
And asking "what colors this?"

I don't want your paradise
Because mine is perfect

5: Nice Jewish Boy, Poet ******,
And ****** Of My Own Life

Dedicated to the people
Who keep me company here,
Some in the mid of night,
You know who you are...
and the POlice trooper who caught me
doing 85 in the HOV lane.  Cost me 200+ and 3 points on my entry ticket to heaven
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Listening to Daughtry^
Like ya oughta,
Singing very loudly along
to, and as it so happens, when
I'm agoing
Home.

Long neck Corona
Cooling my sweaty brow,
Top down,
You betcha my neck is
Red, and the officer who just pulled me over
Ain't looking none too pleased,
In fact, he's alooking a little red too!

Officer I said,
Saw that sign,
30 MPH Minimum

Swear I was doing
At least that
Above the 55 speed limit.

He said, it's ok dude,
I like your music taste,
Heard you singing
Daughtry and Green Day,
James Blunt and Nickelback
In the HOV lane,
Maybe even some Buble
I may have heard, as well,
But don't Miranda incriminate yourself!

I like your taste in beer,
I like that you don't use no sun lotion,
If it's ok with you,
I'll just stand here and listen,
And maybe, join you later when
I'm off duty, at the station.

Officer, a nice Jewish boy I am,
Officer, a good ole country boy from the city,
Wear Harlon River's hat when he ain't,
Went out fishing with RRR (r) on his boat,
Woodpecker chaser,
got me a .45 neath my pillow,
And you should see me gut a

Poem*

Slice its belly open,
Sometimes straight, sometimes Askew,
Feed the gulls them
****** insides on the dock, by-moonlight,
Can ya cut me some slack?

Mmm, I see here in your license,
You are a disabled guy,
A **** poet ******,
Who often does his best work
Legally all alone in the HOV lane,
So I'm gonna let you off this time
Just with a warning!

If you drive and compose,
Ya gotta observe the signs posted:

No more than five per day,
Poems can you post

If singing while driving,
Top gotta be down

No writing about drinking,
there are underage children
Reading your wrotes

Finally,
No more sad poems,
The world is way over its quota,
No mention of scars or pain,
Tears, loss, broken or going insane,*
No heart sickness on sunny weekend days,
Got it?

It's a big problem in these parts,
If you see one, report it to the
Poetry Authorities!

Yes sir Officer,
If you give me your name,
I'll slip it in some little
Unobtrusive limerick,
By way of a thank you note,
Cause after all
A nice Jewish boy
I.am.

He said that won't be necessary,
Voyeuring yourself ain't illegal,
Just bad manners.
But if I catch ya one more time,
Using those aforementioned bad words,
And doing 85, in the left lane,
I know where ya live, and
I'll see ya 'when September ends.'

I figured something out today.
The majority of the people I serve are completely braindead.
It makes me so angry.
Some of them tap their glasses, in such a way to make me hear in my mind,
"Oh yeah more water over here, would you?"
And I sit there and realize
I am a machine to them. A cashier. I make change.

I hate half of my coworkers. I hate to sound like a total ****, but its true.
One of the guys in the kitchen is just an *******. He barks orders, doesnt say please or thank you,
You know, all that standard crap that I have come to expect
Considering I have been raised to be the NICEST PERSON outwardly...

[It was around 13 when my inwardly was born and raised.
That age when all I did when listened to Sisters of Mercy and Korn
And wore leather gloves all over the place (fingerless, of course)
And cited goth poetry and Edgar Allen Poe in English class...

Hey... got the best speech/writing grades...

Women finally realized I existed.
I no longer cared for women.
Friends flocked.
I no longer needed friends.
People stopped trying to stab me.
I no longer cared.

The horrendous, hilarious, horrifying truth to what I felt those times
Was that I finally had acceptance when I no longer wanted it.
Oh, the irony (Coincidence, probably... Not by definition, just by realism... it was a coincidence that happened to be RIDICULOUSLY ironic)]

The other guy back there is a complete and utter clique-artist.
In every. Sense. His backwards *** hat, the jewelry sparkling,
His "homie" attitude...all that ****.
Now I don't care where he was raised, it's just that this guy
Gets all these beautiful, nice, seemingly very sweet women swooning on him.
And I sit here, polite, making light jokes and flirtation, and I guess maybe I am no longer attractive to women, because I get nothing. Even when I all out ask for a date. Excuses, excuses.

This may sound like me whining, but I am just trying to be honest about how I feel about these people.

Nowadays I find myself with my mouth shut constantly.
Making jokes no one gets... Am I high brow or low?
I don't get it, girls want this guy in the kitchen, they swoon and blush over the *******,
It's all rude comments and no manners, a lot of angry people, shouting, shooshing,

I just feel like this could be done a better way.
Look, call me crazy, and to all my readers,
I'm sorry, this is a very different kind of writing that I get into sometimes, but...

I think I may be one of the very few intelligent people of the world.
I think poets and musicians are many of the few. And I mean real musicians, not bands like
(and I will name them all just for fun, let them sue me if this eventually gets published)
Hinder, Shinedown, Nickelback, Creed, Nikci Minaj, Seether, Limp Bizkit, oh I would go on, but the list...
It extends beyond ME.

So.... We are all of a very select and important group.

And I think we all need to realize that we can team up to make the world a better place...for at least the next generation to come.
Somehow...
Even if we don't fix what is happening all around us constantly...
Let's bring the greatest art to the greatest and most deserved generation.

I love my life, and I love you people...
I just wish I didn't feel so down...

But hopefully I will fall in love, too. We'll see.

(I wrote this last winter, I think.)


My bedroom may not be
the most fantastic you’ve ever seen.
There are clothes strewn about,
the linen is crumpled;
Instruments laying around,
Christmas lights on the wall
and a clock that changes colours.
Bedside table
piled with books I’ve yet to read
and 3D glasses
from the 7:30 pm showing of
The 50th Anniversary Doctor Who special.
Griffyndor banner
Zombie Survival poster
pentacle drawing
guitar poster
All Time Low poster,
pictures
album covers
drawings
on the walls.
Simple… but this
is mine.
It’s where I’ve laughed with her,
cried with her,
Gotten annoyed as ****
with her.
Where we snuck out
at 2 in the morning,
to walk up and down the sidewalk
to dance in the street
and sing Nickelback as loud
as we could.
It’s where the nights
that kept me alive
went down, and stayed down,
in more ways
than one
that summer.
It’s where we had our first kiss
and where we had our last.
I feel like my waves
extinguished your flame
that once burned anyone
who tried to ***** it.
And for that, I’m sorry.

So burn bright,
honeybabe,
and show them
what you’re made of.
Burn brighter than me.
And remember.
If you ever need
a place to go…
This bedroom is simple,
but it’s ours.

Driving down the freeway with my Gaga glasses on,
radio cranked all the way.Too tired to headbang,
so I compensate by belting (entirely too loudly) the lyrics to Nickelback
at a stoplight. It's curious how, though we are maybe four feet apart,
I can hear me, and the blonde 20-something beside me can't.
Through the rolled-up windows, maybe she just thinks I'm talking to myself
because I'm lonely. I crack the window just a bit
and scream until the light turns green.

Written March 12, 2019
Happy Birthday, Daddy 💙
You always said on your birthday to look at the sky. If it was blue and the sun was shining, it meant that it wasn't going to snow and we were finally going to have spring. If it was otherwise, it would snow again before spring finally came. It always held true. Just like you always held true. Today we had bright blue skies and I know you might of had something to do with that. It'll be a year next month, since you've been gone. It doesn't feel like it. It still doesn't feel real. I feel like I can just call you and hear your sweet voice and laugh, but everytime I turn to do it, I remember. Nothing can prepare you for losing a parent. Nothing can prepare you for the time it takes for that hole to heal. I don't think that that hole ever will, because I was your babygirl. And I was a daddy's girl from the get go. Between fishing, to riding in the truck, to listening to nickelback so much I burnt you out on it, to just enjoying nature, listening to your jokes and stories (even if you had already told them before), going to you when I needed you most, helping you when you needed someone, just everything. And it hurts so much, it gets so hard sometimes. But I stay calm and work through it as best as I can because I know you are beside me through it all. I just wish I could talk to you again, see you again. I miss you so much. I love you. Happy birthday. 💙

Never made it as a wise man
I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing
Tired of livin' like a blind man
I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling
And this is how you remind me

This is how you remind me of what I really am
This is how you remind me of what I really am

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waitin' on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breakin'
And I've been wrong, I've been down
Been to the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head
Scream, "Are we havin' fun yet?

It's not like you didn't know that
I said, "I love you," and I swear I still do
And it must have been so bad
'Cause livin' with me must have **** near killed you

And this is how you remind me of what I really am
This is how you remind me of what I really am

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waitin' on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breakin'
And I've been wrong, I've been down
Been to the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head
Scream, "Are we havin' fun yet?"

I see the halo
Hello-Poetry
It's me___
Her words snug body wiggly
"Jello"
Halo
So white and he is hot
red Gallo
Don't touch my wine
Whats up with the
be  all mine
So distant am I well "Hello"
Tight-lipped just fine
Valentine hug playing
his cello

Coffee Inside me
Another dig
His grin vibrates me
Rattles me embraces
Such a high angelic
keys of his piano
My wings hold him
I fly him ride him
I am the "Halo"
My mug
Huge hug free's me
Does he love me
Time battles me

I worked so hard
All tagged to lose me
Please read me
Oh! Hell-her belly
Santas baby

All Hoo Hoo
Who is next text me
It ain't so him?Hum
The marriage of families
House arrest rolling
in the drums


Sea Inn__ Inconceivable
So belly washed
Ripley or not
believable, please
That's what you are

The halo little squirt
Big pint cookies
and creme Oreo
Men of all flavors
Miss Bella"Gelato"

Hello again Pluto
The hint Wine Gallo

Dinner bittersweet
Chewy mint me
I got a splinter Miss
Marrionette
The hush Sweet
"Charlotte"


Pancakes I am Inn
like a crepe Suzette
Sweet tea Carolina
The Inn inconceivable
He's indescribable
No refunds
His bad funds
returnable

She's Inspectable
He could feed her words
out of his dish
To be unaccountable

The lips red devil made me
do it, ****** Mary,
Chanel eyeliner she is so
unstable can't you tell
Throwing our best times
Like some silly rhymes
Giving into our worst times

Nickelback' he's the

"Quarterback"

Hello Poetry I am the
front cover give me
my star back
Please don't come over

One day creation
She's having a baby
Did I miss something
Professional manhunter
The Inn Hello Mr.
Highlander
Is someone going under?

In my life I have learned 10 important truths:

1. You can't trust anybody that likes Nickelback because if they willfully listen to bad music you don't know what other bad life choices they will make

2. If a girl starts a conversation with "I just think its funny how..." you are about to die. I hope you have an eject button or a eulogy prepared, but preferably both

3. If a boy tells you he wants you to meet his family, he is definitely in love with you

4. You're going to experience heartbreak that hurts so bad you can't even get crying right. But just because you're hurt doesn't mean you're a victim and hurting others doesn't make you right

5. Never go to a wedding alone

6. White chocolate is just chocolate that got cold feet about being edible

7. Definitely eat that piece of pie because treat yoself

8. Definitely regret that whole pie later so then you have to treat yourself

9. Realize you are going to be okay

10. Write a really bad poem about it all

Nickelback dreams
written like wishes-
Creased over pages and
broken-book-spines
donated to used bookstores.
Pick out something new-
Smells like money
Smells like success
Smells like
somebody else's words in my mouth,
Hard to chew on
Hard covers poking
into hands used to holding
paper backs.
They weren't too fancy
but at least they were mine

Today marks fourth anniversary of tragic deaths
an aching breaking heart – mine
remembers four extinguished breaths.

(dashed – not while riding off
in a white horse open sleigh,
but upon learning untimely demise
regarding prosperous family, whose small
plane crashed August 8, 2019.

They lived ~ three doors down from us
farther than one can toss a Buffalo nickelback.)

The victims included;
Jasbir Khurana, 60
(a professor of pathology
and laboratory medicine
at Temple University's
Lewis Katz School of Medicine);
Divya Khurana, 54 (a professor
of pediatrics and neurology
at the Drexel University
College of Medicine,
specializing in pediatrics, sleep) ;
and the couple's youngest daughter
Kiran Khurana 19 years old.

No words can assuage the deep sorrow,
this once upon a time neighbor
(I lived at 1148 Greentree Lane) experienced
disbelief, numbness, shock...
attendant by an irreparable loss of beloved,
and vacillated how to communicate
heartfelt (I cannot ex spleen) sympathy,
where words superfluous,
yet... if for that challenge alone,
an affinity with language

spurred impulse to focus upon
bountiness of joie de vivre
imbibed years gone by,
when every now and
again chance encounters
found yours truly (me)
in delightful company
regarding persons whose presence
imbued benevolence, kindness, warmth...
facilitating emotional philanthropy

influenced long term positive memories
to one experienced being
outcast, ostracized, offensive...
courtesy unfortunate series
of circumstances beyond my control,
which voiced unwelcome tension
sabotaged reaching quality politeness
displeased at unfriendly reactions
reflexively, maliciously, impetuously...
did little or no justice

toward conflict resolution
which altercations nearly,
quickly did segway profoundly
into unpleasant standoffs,
yes bias, bigotry, bitterness
begat bisel meshuga
acutely aware I loathe
uncouth actions regarding myself
and strive to remain
affable, cordial, friendly...,

hence an object lesson,
(albeit ex post facto)
to abide by my inner integrity,
ethos, dogma politesse...,
especially when pitted against
unsavory electric acid kool aid test
tis then urgently vital to remain
steadfast, and figuratively
turn the other cheek
particularly when populace

under severe duress
re: instigated by pathologically
belligerent, ill mannered, rude...
former president whose
set abhorrent precedence,
whereby people of nation follow suit,
yet this nonconformist only hopes
to affect positive within
webbed wide world at large.

photographs rarely doth me justice boot at least some idea will be available if aye seem appealing enough to kiss. boy george, i will try to maintain a thorough lee good convivial over tone so police pardon moi, who calls out justin timberlake time this hermit tick lee sealed hominid dwelling metallica regular rolling stone sans placid yet poison end herman hermits stung by the scorpion human league this abba ca dabra purported - vee lad putative culture club virtual puddle of mudd digital glop, nor conclude me crud cuz, this olda boy - by george wants 2b yo steve a door miller bud jist hole dejure sly and the family stone horses that wanna prance n let there be dragons, seals and crofts me fair lady gaga cuz u auto let my *** pistol gofundme 2 see eddie money far hay, how duh name of dis swiftly tailored tar nation did ya got a hold - don't be afraid e cat nor slink away like a def leppard, fur mebbe i wrote cha from this utter alias name from zee station here or maybe at my previous abode while sipping tea? enjoy a glass of vintage wine don't let the rush o time induce necessity to reciprocate with one or more lines for your aura, charisma, enigma variations align to evoke an alluring, captivating, enervating charm of a gal, whose electronic presence felt as like an animal farm-ville replete with picture perfect barn, and chicken coop where foxes befriend each hendricks without harm dis here buoy i.e. stanley steamer doth newt goot any piercings and no tat twos any where, boot not bothered by a gal covered froom head to foot, or...one with my name i.e. matthew scott harris 'tho no emerald, ruby sapphire, nor flash gordon in the pan could ever sway me away from living a short span that would allow, enable and offer at least a millennium where we can take a spin in my car a van actually, this bloke drives a 2020 hyundai elantra, which revving engine silenced guns and roses without inducing your stomach 2 turn and skin appear to turn green, when most would agree this mutt spouts a meaningless pro verb whose poe it tree haint superb with no intent to perturb butta sprinkle your monitor with some savory her band...also ye need not worry this schlemiel ***** trained habit upon georgian bush doth politely curb. witness this somewhat inn o 50 cent pennywise thrift, nickelback, dime a dozen face no bias, boot moi christened name, would be matched by equipoise ****, and amazing grace becoming a worthy friend within the milieu of virtual place who could disguise herself as being an alien from the human race perhaps our egress living **** seems light years away in an acme safeway, wholefoods, et cetera and secure distant virtual or real space so if intrigued to learn more send bits o digital feedback in binary code or across the heavens some skywriting message these eyes (e'en though tired like twin led zeppelins) will trace. i wish (as u2 might also desire as belonging to the human league) to feel that palpable poison us scorpion stinging pearl jam metallica making egress viz in living color deep purple reigning village people. this beatle browed (harkens to the black crows of Nazareth) that sound akin 2 rushing train of pleasure that courses thru an entire being (during black sabbath) on account of welcoming frequency to explore journey toward nirvana sans writing as the mental foreplay toward...inxs letting this red hot chile peppered beastie boy playing with one bare naked lady. even if something real and tangible a possibility, you could be disinclined to step up to a closer degree of intimacy, perhaps based on seriously involvement with a significant other since progressing thru the creed dent shul of many emotional/ spiritual trials and tribulations. no need from me to resort with insistence (vis a vis induce any hype or pressure, yet once in a lifetime golden finger red opportunity) to experience one direction of joey vivre enjoyment of me as feigned bad company. police - kanye kim e sump tin faw free swiftly tailored made oh kay tee perry up so i can go gaga over ma dear lady.lettuce both induce glee juiced send n email 2 me 3 doors down with inxs of pearl jam shutters no beginning nor plea cuz ah already rote in ma dire straits pledged yar troth can, yippee contrived virtual toy story qua ratatouille poetic brew could materialize in2a likely chance such an idea prods me 2 shrek out with excitement & dance just in case a glimmer of prospect in the park exists. this self anointed bard dislikes formality, hence i present good humor skills, which hopes to enhance this chap who offers poetic expression uncommon in france. he sets sights on sand fran sis go. take a glance 2 help dis intuitive **** sapiens sharpen mental acuity like a lance bite size bit torrent word play might cause ye 2 soil pants interpreting hodgepodge as rave & rants. even platonic rapport would buoy positive stance intent worth b friend ding, 2 sway au currant series electronic charge affect hypnotic trance 4 consideration 2 advance. I betcha never red an intro duck tory reply like this quacker. i'm an ink blot from bic pentameter typed o'er electric wires boyish looking blood muggle father up in years, (whose nonpareil courage 2 face Voldemort, which exploit does tire), and 2 luv lee young adult girls want him 2 sing miles away from the choir 2 prevent game raw bits of yar self 2 acquire frum a boyish chap dreaming excitedly 4 grandiose ******* interludes joyful kindle bound by pages o love, who lives within perkiomen valley, penna, but, yukon only text. postscript nose one: would you care2 become my bride no joe king nor do i chide please take me away alive or freeze dried or sere this buck hits hide, which lil maximus m butted pill grims pride moon thuntz later whipped mir cull o joy n pure writ tin pride. postscript nose two: i noah nuttin bout witches r warlocks boot feel spellbound with magic dat mockshard science and knocks said solid ******* principles that hocks some basis in astrology n such early learning blocks of humanity - now swept away like chicken pox virus, yet those un-named discoverers of matter allow artificial satellites capable to establish docks far removed from gravitational force when (keep this on the qt), those spacecraft lobbed into cosmos base sic lee from a potion of balled up soiled red socks void where prohibited by sign language or pop yule lye vox. unlike my personality to come across like some forceful chap ling go ring, ******* buster keaton being ****** will buoy us alight if we take to some invisible primal grunting wing from - this average male member egret, who rem members when we first met and consider thee a queen for this rolling stone, who emails (then abduct) me via the net adieu. Bye. chow now, this mwm will await pleasure like when ye text me - if willing, ready, eager and able create r hard woo n intimate ace cee dee cee zip pity doo dsh fable enjoying your cuntry villa mossy two lipped gable ****** sans the medical terminology whispered to thee when voiced per phone where airwaves crackle, snap n pop like mayhem of cars or babble heard at tower of babel via telephonic cable or rsvp tap text message to me a dope gang pull chose er this label the offspring of one great great great...grandmother named Mable who adorned herself in horsehair woven from her thoroughbreds kept in a golden arched stable housing a large equus shaped table.

Little do I know
I've got to stay clean and let go
Past catches up
I'm just lock it up
Everyday is a battle
This is the last time I drink 3/4 of a bottle. Like my issues they poor down my throat. Time to swallow them because I'm scaring and hurting everybody. I don't work well with anyone because i get so ******* anxious. Tbis ain't good and mentally dangerous. But i rush home to my room and lay the **** down. Distracting my self with a song. By now i should all the words. too bad Nickelback I've got one objective. Stay faithful and stay clean. Don't mean to to hurt y'all. My thoughts of myself aren't good, god forbid I'm clean. Wait what do I need? I'm literally applying for a second job to get caught up and to stay busy. **** the world for ****** up my reality. **** anxiety all I do is listen to loud music and write about the ****** up issues. Not eating and struggling with sleeping. Not taking care of my body but I'm down to keep moving. Seems like I'm losing. Another song that is on my mind is kind of depressing. when your gone by Avirl Lavigne I'm caught up on the same thing. This is me ready to stay clean. I'm a mess, every persons regret. I'm a bottle it back up and jam it in the freezer. Because if i open again **** will get cold and cuts my go deeper.