A Lie About
Never Getting Up
Lying
Leastways Lascivious Silly
Lazy.
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 9:44 AM UTC
Half in black but on a track
Only lacking challenge in his dreams.
Working hard if not inspired
Smoking out the jackpot grows unseen.
You needed to listen
You didn't listen.
Sacked Mack don't look back
Turn around this season's to grieve.
Take it all and make it flow
better lay so hollow will agree.
She didn't listen
She needed to listen
Believe there's a reason God gives us an age.
Believe there's a reason God gives us this age.
Give you a perfect example.
She Should be closest to me but she's the furthest away.
Believe there's a reason God gives us an age.
Believe there's a reason God gives us this age.
Give you a perfect example.
He Should be closest to me but he's the furthest away
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
Sleeping. A minute or two at a time. Mark. This guy hit somebody. Awake. Coat on. Front door out. A silver hatchback is parked blocking our driveway. Drivers Door opens. A man with dark hair gets out. Italian maybe. Takes three steps. Sees me. And at once without any acknowledgement beyond eyes meeting he is back in the car. And it's all you can do to stare at the rectangle of pressed aluminum. It's white characters on green. 638 UAR 638 UAR. And then his car is gone again but not before you glimpse the passenger side front quarter panel. What's left of it. Man he did a real smack. And then Still in Costco house shoes You listen to the scrape of his tires drive away and walk the outer line of the front fence along the line of cars parked in front of your house and up the front door of your rather dory sort of spry 84 year old neighbor. As you reach her front door You see it is open and only the glass screen door is shut. Think about rapping but reach for the doorbell instead. And there she is. Hi you say. A guy hit one of your cars out front. Four cars parked out front. two silver two redfish. Well come in she says. You apologize for the house shoes. A dad don't. As you step inside you realize how close to Christmas it really is. Her entire house. Silver & red. Four women Sitting around The dining room table. Someone's car has been Hit 84 says. The murmurs at the table soon turn into realizations. And questions. Which car? I don't know. He left. I just came here straightaway with the license plate. You realize you've been saying it aloud this whole time. 638 UAR. And now you and 5 bible studiers walk back outside. It's the first car. A white silver one. Joy for not much damage but Enough to pray over.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
Ahead.
Hey it's _____
Give me a call I'm
At the firefly I
Dont know Where
Ocean people are so
Have a good issue I
Was going to be
Beautiful.
Alright make sure you
Press the pictures
From the later...
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
Ha ha doesn't do it.
Ha ha can't be it.
Nothing like Nihilism
Enlists the whole lament.
Slack relief in disbelief
mine of God
I just figured
No halo
finished
Time
Next line no using
phones please and no
cursing please think
that's going to ****
off the young,
when all they read
How mellow
Now trees?
So you think getting
pregnant tired driving 40
on the night they drove
old Dixie down it
couldn't rain enough for
me I wanted to see
their Wagonwheel slats
stuck up to their humps
in dreams. It's easy to
get a palm trimming.
actually think they
read anywhere
can write some
One.
At least I have a
************* palm
yes I'm lying
in bed now get some
sleep it's who
they all say you're *******
my recording girl
you took my
only lighter.
Because
what God
touts God
Routs and tryouts
buy shouts
yet still
Doubts if
She is really out.
Ha ha! Nihilists won't expound.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 6:28 AM UTC
One day Bravery climbed all the way to the moon.
Yes, his name was Bravery.
And his middle name was Reagan.
And he was seven and three fourths.
But anyway, please pay attention to the actual story.
One day Bravery climber all the way to the moon.
He drew himself a staircase,
And he ran all the way.
He had to stop a few times
To catch his breath and take a drink of water,
You must stay hydrated.
But oh boy did he get there.
He was never "shooting for" the moon in the stars.
Bravery believes in strict gun control laws.
Plus he's only seven and three fourths.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
I wish you wood
Just calms day wit
Meet Elle mosh owes up.
Noble oh Jah buzz
Lie cat my kiss how's uh.
Nose ex hue well
Fave hearse eater.
**** it *** beef ore
Week in dew a tug in.
M
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
I have a friend who told me she finds
poetry boring now.
I told her-
It has always been boring.
It will always be boring.
Even DisneyWorld is boring on the 3rd day in a row.
She now finds poetry-
Mostly mundane.
Radically routine.
Definitely drab.
Really repetitive.
Totally tedious.
Much like Mark.
I told her-
It has always been boring.
It will always be boring.
Boring.
Poetry boring deep inside your head
Boring deep inside your conscious
Boring deep into your soul
Without leaving a hole
Leaving you whole.
Boring.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
Or at least thats what I always believed to be the Gospel Truth.
I was a true ***** believer in this supposed axiom
right up until the moment I
ceased drinking unceasingly.
And what did I have to believe in now?
I loved drinking.
Loved loved loved it.
I loved alcohol so much that I stopped noticing anything else in my life.
Eventually I drank so completely that I stopped noticing it as well.
Kind of like a Blasé blah marriage of addictive attrition,
alcohol was my infernal internal companion.
It never strayed nor ever cheated me.
'Twas extraordinarily dependable and pleasantly blendable too.
But you know what?
I'm happier now.
I have purpose beyond my elbow's reach.
Purpose deeper than the bottom of any bottle.
Alcohol may have been all of those things I just mentioned,
but it really became my life's filter.
But not the kind of filter that removes all impurities.
Rather a filter that kept any and everything out of my life that didn't include alcohol.
Devious huh?
My 'filter' worked like so:
If I wanted to Laugh?
I'd need a few shots before the funny could start,
and after a few more drinks the funny wouldn't stop...
Even when what I thought was so **** funny was
actually so **** painful it made everyone miserable
and want to go home and cry.
If I wanted Love?
Or ***
I'm gonna need to be hammered
before I even attempt to express the former,
but not too hammered or there's
no recompense in attempting the latter.
Every facet of my life had to get in where it could fit in,
always sublimated beneath my HNIC
alcohol.
If a job didn't let me drink,
my drinking let that job go.
The list of let go's is breath achingly long.
Small sample?
I quit guitar, I quit family, I quit joy.
About the only thing I didn't give up on was cigarettes.
The inelegant mathematical constant made plain by my life was drinking. The proof would look something like this:
Me/T = S
to explain it as a constant:
**Me over Time is always equal to *********
It was a given.
That finally had to give.
It's only been 'less than a long time' since my last drink.
It's been a little while, but compared to the number of times I've circled the sun
it feels insignificant.
This means I need to keep the memory of my marbles being misappropriated by mixologists muy importante en mi cabeza.
That last sentence was mostly for me.
So is this next one.
Perhaps I can potentially ping-pong my perspective on
how long it's been since I drank.
I could make it seem like half a lifetime has passed since then.
And I think I could.
If I was a toddler.
Me Not Drinking?
Me Not Drinking Is The Sun Shining.
Me Not Drinking Is Zaria Smiling.
Me Not Drinking Is Broncos Losing Superbowls. (Sorry Colorado)
Me Not Drinking Is a Life Meant to Be.
For Me.
I can see now just how drab & gray life's kaleidoscope
becomes when viewed wholly through an alcohol filter.
So i am sad to say goodbye,
but i am more sad it took us so long to part ways.
Alone I can smile and can sigh,
perhaps even cry.
(if I get something in my eye).
Because I am human again.
I feel all the feelings again.
I am a me again.
I am filterless.
**** Yeah!
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
What foes or friends do we perceive when we connect by chance conceived?
Would you care to explain how this is my fault?
Pray tell tis Joseph come to his census.
Come nigh so late to what truth evinces.
Four heed own Lay won knot thin kit sis...
Prays got a buff!
Fine uh Lee…
Coarse sit duhs pour ten dove baa doe mens.
Naughty ville purse say! Oar eve in dud ark Om end...
Shell Ira Bjorn ease? Orb headers till yore effete?
Ike ant aft tub Abe eave oar yew yen owe...
Wall oh win knit.
Gore Ida head.
Yuck use amoeba *** is hint umm eye fall tis zit?
Yuck cues amoeba ditz nada tall mite urn toot ache tub lame.
Bub I...
Hope Joe Ill step pup two wit all
Irie lay trill lee dew
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC