Ha heh heh
It gets closer
Pig wind
Ethereal
  Insulation
masturbatory
musings
Sigil among lifeless forms
Painted by numbers
Oppressed by everyone
Confiscated whilst yearning
Freedom keeps me alive
But sanity is another
question

Your smile was brilliant
like a snow dust portrait in the fall

I could see you then, alive, full of something.
Life hadn't beaten you down yet..
Your smile, still vibrant,
and the pain merely implied.
You had so much more to do; I'm sorry you didn't get to see it.
But I'll take this burden from you. & you
can live with the angels

As theyre relieved so are the patent watchers said the director.
No need for nose bleeds or salty iron. Count your pennies, Stew shine on rain
Had enough of ***** casualties and stringy viscera. Eat your own ***** and your own ***** Fish.

   An age of time

Eliott Smith presumably stabbed himself in the heart(but in all likelihood was murdered)
but in either case I now understand why

Love is two things.

Rain
, Blowing cold.

Sentience

Disturbed.
Passive,     but giving and of course suicidal.
All the above.
But one more.

Loving

go into debt & be free
slave for a goal, like hardwares and cynics turning coins down by a crumbling and filthy street
today is a good to waste, like forever, and all the days after.
don't be afraid to
             fail

Was it love

Does a child love his imaginary friend.

It was real

You made me cry when i was all alone
And the knife pressed even deeper

I couldn't face the day knowing I hurt
nobody but static air
I lost all sanity then
And you just laughed, and i just turned out the light and walked towards anywhere







.

My biggest fear is being alone
Or ending up a loser
But both outcomes are predicated on people's perception of me

But perceptions change

If i had money I could wear a bathrobe to the store with a zebra cowboy hat
And the money would make me eccentric

$$$$ could buy an infant from a mother.

$$$$ could buy you a liver from a healthy farmboy in peru

$$$$$ could buy you tickets to a ******
Thats all that matters in this shitshow.
Your personality is irrelevant
They want what youve got
They dont want you

I lay down with my hand on her breast
And her whimper in the night
You want me to fix you
But I can't nor should I
You need to make yourself whole, I never signed up for being anything other than a warm shoulder
To cry on, and to provide my love if you needed it
But I can't perform miracles, because I'm only human
And Lord knows I've been waiting for some miracles too

Set
The schematics for the bomb, insert the nails and tie a little bow.

Hot shower, rent paid, isolation, isolation,
In a green tent.

Have my sweats on go back to cloud 9 baby.
Jump off a bridge, and hope for the best.
No love

The tree sits in place forever and never gets to leave

When the saw Mill takes its lover
The shadow falls like heavy linen draped over a small child

It doesn't ask for much,
  just to be left alone in the summer rain so it can remember all
the things it never got
to do

I know what it's like to be dead
here and
Now.

Like the fatal dose, so sensual
The Siren of my black ocean

I realize I was writing a lot of abstraction without direction. any loser and fraud can write
''
  leaves pronounce the petulant tongue in noon like
leaky
dreams for a feathered
    fawn for its squirming young & the mouth opens for a foster mother in blue jeans.
  squeeze the juice of eternal life into a
  paper cut for faded  faculties"

it's alright, but it's not as impressive as saying ' Took a walk and I felt like blowing my brains out; it is 2:21 pm and I'm bored'
  it takes some guts to be vulnerable is all I'm saying, I like hiding behind abstraction, but when the hurt comes there are only so many purple skies and crippled hands you can paint; the void doesn't care about emotion but I sometimes like spitting in the face of eternity.
  an ant against an army of sorrow; you know the outcome, but you still try, to some avail

I love growing out my hair and beard, it feels Noble and wise
Why did we ever bother with vanity anyway
It just shows we had nothing better to do
The Mammoth had already been slain, now we were just watching a pale sun that never seemed to set

I throw a sock at it but it starts hissing at me. Let me eat my Cheetos in piece.
My eyes look up at the van Gogh, a beautiful portrait of a corpse, like me.
My head is groggy so I lay down and sneeze.
"You will be forgiven"
Yes, as long as there isn't a jury. To be good, you have to be fast, and sadlly some will get left behind

everyday feels like a breakdown

blue

indigo

Black
In the pan

Covers and heated beds. Making up stories for morons
liars awake them

Beaten down
fist on my eye with black tears
Boot on my throat and grey years.

Spit and dust and powder lies
& powder kegs
Dynamite
Erupting in the night
And *****
      Children in the blue light
Grey tongues and swollen
might

Rolling into dusk
No days count
Adolescence like curfew
And kittens by the string
"No more no more"
You ask
The door shuts.
January has april showers

We walk alone.

*******

  the swing sets cold

the days go on til infinity
without
mercy and clouds part
way for october

human relations bother me,

they're too much for someone who doesn't need much.
I try to be stoic, but they want me to be a faithful consumer and to give up all of me

I want love but hookers are expensive.
I want silence
but the tinnitus keeps me up at night.
I want solitude but the brick is a little too stiff to sleep on. I want death, but to see it for myself.
and I can't wait to see it

Poetry rarely makes its way into the public stream of consciousness, but it's good to know that it's at least timeless. Words don't age, cheesy saxaphones and traps beats do

It takes a second to say how you feel

It takes a lifetime to know yourself

It takes money to die

It takes a train to stop crying

It takes a scientist to know what's right

It takes a man to jump in a fire

It takes a flame to keep burning

Going to oregon
buying some acres
.

Buying a pet

Buying a shed

Buying a home in the hills with the dead spring gardens and gumdrop suns and making a life
where time stands still behind trees

saving up

Saving up


With myself

the bills pressed in pillows
The saints plead for mercy
I had so
Much time to

            Be

To be

     Me

Nowhere poem, like a line drawn on a blank canvass - blue and bleeding,
parallel and listless, fluttering towards dawn,
crumbled up papers like the other hundred you spat out.
It's no good,
It's no good.
Zipper lips, cold and frostbitten, alone in a room with a window that won't shut
The voices yell and they tell you to jump out,
5am and nothing changes. 5am and the freaks stare whilst the the locks get locked, and the noose gets tighter
like a curfew. You know what you are

bukowski's greatest accomplishment is that his books are the most frequently stolen from book stores;
     No one would bother stealing Moby ****. live on you old ****

measured in miles
and weighed down by smiles,
the blue glimmer in your eye
now looks like chalk
.  dead
   and sleeping

even in this uninhabited niche corner of the Internet where I'm mostly anonymous
& mostly free from criticism seeing as
as barely anyone engages or comments,
I still feel guilty 'venting' or
coming across
as weak
I'm truly hurting here, and I wish I had someone to pour myself into
But
I'm not as strong as
I think I am

I'm held up with tape & bandages, and I need to let go of the act.
I'm only human, and this pain isn't a state of mind,
it's an alarm to my senses & psyche telling me I
Need help, & I need to change
because this is clearly no longer
working

It goes in the slot,
****** it in tighter as tight as you can so sparks start flying out and the thing starts to smoke, then shove it in with your hand and fist like a forceful piston til the thing is vibrating and ready to explode with the juice leaking out and creating a puddle. Continue with this thrusting motion for a good few seconds until the pickle eventually loosens from the jar and apply to your sandwich for your hearty brunch

i'll give my 2 cents on the riots later,
when people are willing to listen
right now it's about yelling into the abyss
and painting everything black

Up at 5:04am
Incapable of sleeping
Calling off today; I won't be making the patients their apple sauce
I'll lay in bed
And *** to pictures of
    Of past excursions
Wondering if I still know how to ****
I'm such a loser, but that's a good thing sometimes.
My mirror is broken
And my room is full of ****
.
The webs sit and the spiders eat daily, even some drinking my blood
I **** out the window
And fantasize about
Being a serial killer; but that would bore me even too - too much work to sever a head
And kick it down a street.
Im angry
& Feel as if I have no way of release. I'm unheard,
I hate my friend.
I hate my circumstance and I'm lost
So I write
Some words and prolong the descent -- I know I'll
Get out of this, but It doesn't get easier even after the 119th time
**** it all

They call it Hurricane because it turns your insides into a hurricane.
My dead friend called it '*** ****'
my other dead friend called it 'brewski', I call it stuff to get you through a miserable night.
Netflix and cartoons and icecream pops
I drive to Sav- On and collect my stamps
The world has five more years then Its over.
That's a Bowie reference
Sorry for wasting your time

i hope i die in my sleep


  
  I hope i feel
      the calm
Breeze as i slip away
Into benign
      acceptance

So quiet
She wipes away my
   Tears

Tapioca
Weathered
# 9
You were shot in the morning
I loved you
I hear your voice
You speak to me
All you need is love
But the hate sometimes
Gets its way

Let's be friends and lovers
All time is an illusion
it didn't matter

the duck goes squawk squack
with green crackers,
"SQACKK SQAACCK WITH GREEN CRACKERSS!!!"
you toss
a biscuit in its mouth and it chokes it down

''SQACCK SQACCKK. GREEN CRACKERS!!" as it charges towards you and rams its head into your kidney

''SQACK SQACK!!!''
then you pull out of your silver switchblade and stab the beast
and its entrails spill out and cover you in red blood and you wrestle its neck while it pecks your eyes with its dull beak SQACKKINNGG

as you stand over its corpse, you tap its gentle body and say a prayer and place some pennies over its eyes
it was a fine adversary but too much for an afternoon
  at a petting zoo

You can't live without purpose. You can only **** time

Dont mistake being alive for living

Lost my way long ago
doesnt mean I cant find another
path

you only want me because I'm the one person who won't
give you what you want, because you should
know better

I'll just go away, you don't really know me
you fell in love with the idea of me
an idealized version of who I am,
I don't want to let you down.
it's time to go home now, time to open your eyes and see
the potential in front of you;
limitless

bitter and cruel
Gelatinous
eye slits
tongue deep in the wound
******* all life
from my child
The moon is cold
& the wolves sleep
we hear your screams like treason
You weren't the first to feel pain
You won't be the last

If it takes so long. Then it takes all the gas,
Put your foot down. Because maybe there's a way to Chicago

pitched
by pigs and cold coffee.

**** it dry,
my coffee is black
and it needs spice.

fly at night, too many crowds and too many lines. explosions in soft places; roll around a tight hall--- 2 green lights go woo


I love good
juice,
praying to a fine specimen called tomorrow .  open your
*******
eyes

I've gotta get over my hyper-awareness that people are reading this.
enough with the 'stars'
and 'lights'
and 'dead airs'  '
' blue souls'.

you've gotta be **** too sometimes. maybe i'm always ****, but I need to explicitly be **** too.
this is poetry

staring into a blank field and breaking my promise

the noise drips into my shell, waves like shallow graves

anxiety clutching me
And sweat beads

too hot
For covers too cold
For the ****

release
the pain and

Release me
Release

me
into nothing

It's 4:10  and the crack heads are awaking.
The streetcar rolls down the street and slithers in rust,
The ragged gypsy prepares her pajamas, the innocent nun
folds her silk white underwear and stares at the morning sun,
The alcoholic collapses in the dirt,
The satanist cries with a teddy bear, the transgender watches SpongeBob,
The child plays with grass,
The ****** eats stilts,
The dog dances in carpet,
The god praises
Jehovah
All lights illuminate,
And the crowds are transfixed. It's a communion
Of liars and all will be hungry
What a shame,       What a
waste
At least we have prayer

Like a rothko.

Blue over white

Black stretched over red and crimson
light
bleeding

The air is hot and heavy

The walls are quiet in the morning

The fragments of ash
spill into
the noon

The violins sound for the dove

The canvass stands stoic amongst glazed over eyes in the lobby

And in the dawn there is nothing left to mourn

The painting was finished

It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society

I have that stapled on my wall,
   above my drawing of a cat.
  and I feel no better, I sometimes wish I was well-adjusted. life would be easier being
empty

All goodbyes take time,

swinging
into a doorway,
the critter is unmaimed.
I miss
    my mother

So so so so  close.
I pull up the covers and yawn. I think about nothing. I brush my teeth and I cry and look into the mirror. So so so so so ugly so fast. The snow is falling and the tiles are cracking. I smile and go back to bed. If I die at least no one will be sad

Junk
This may be junk

There are commas and there are questions

Like junk
In your
Cellar
And junk in your spoon

The creeping
Dread is like family

Bonded by blood and
embittered by
time

- - Masked, bought soup and cranberry juice then ate strawberries and a health bar
- went swimming
-got the mail
- walked dog
-dog threw up
- talked to pat
- watched movie on ***** rockstar who shot himself in the face
- jacked off
- did some push ups
- ate a subway
- took shower with green soap
- folded shirt
- walked dog again
- dog happy
- bed  ?
- bed
- sleep
-  dream then
- wake up

have not slept  
this is how Dali did it,
this is how he painted
his elephants on stilts and melting strawberries in blue bowls.
  this is how Picasso rolled a ball of dirt into a woman,
and how
michelangelo
   gave himself to the lord.
   this is how a child
  eats from the box
of Kraft
  and the    girl cries herself to sleep for what she can't have and nothing changes.
  this is how it goes,
  this is how it always was and always will be.   the past whispers to the  
     thorn like it cares. and the  man stands tall among demons.  now go to bed and
dream

when I'm dead,
  it'll be like nothing ever happened. I could have saved time not being born