When you spend your nights alone at the bar
at the ripe age of 32
your eyes start to develop a deep glassy loneliness
Washed out; Faded
These grey eyes have an endless longing
Unfulfilled nothingness resting behind a curious gaze that is envious of everything and everyone that is content
Rage is replaced with regret.
Inspiration replaced with hollow grandeurs.
Love replaced with desperate sentimentality.

Holy smokes I am losing my cool
Wrapped up in tatters in what I would
Call a ****** up existence
But I do what I do
And a can what I can
So I can preserve what I need
To survive
My feet coil together
Small toes against small toes
Rhythmatically sensing one another
In a calming motion
Allowing the electric to go someplace

This is when I wish I had a pen
To let you know this is an honest letter
From me to you
Something rare and raw and pure
Something so rare

It's quick
It's to-the-point
It's all american
And clever
It's humorous and famous
It contains all the celebrity
One would need #2b happy
It's full of digital photographs
And ***** sext messages
I can't believe how heavy it is
It's all paper
No gold or silver
Allllll paper
Kinda fake but kinda real
It's wild
It's now
It us

its gone
I hated it too
I hated
That's why
Those moves
Came climbing out
Of my mind
It's gone
I'm black and blue
And what was stated
I try
Those grooves
All oozing out
Will find
I'm gone

in the corner of my eye
They flash as I drive aimlessly at night
They flash behind my eyelids
They flash as memories and regrets
I can see them right now
On the Page as I write
Yelling and screaming at me to MOVE

They flash quickly and sometimes slowly
And they make me as jumpy as all hell
They make me late and they make me sit and stare in the mirror
They make me hold my breath
And breathe uncontrollably
All at once

Interesting isn't the half
Of a full grasp
Crisp and soft around the edges
Like a mellow high
Reaching far too low to be anywhere
Near the truth
But who needs truth when we have TV
And news and facebook
Look friends
I made this for dinner
Look friends
I have so many friends
Look friends
I'm going to **** myself if I don't get a like
Like soon
Ok. I did
I'm happy now

Can't somebody stop the madness
The insults at life
The crap on the bottom of the boat
The **** on the street

We all tiptoe the line
At times
But it's hard to keep a
Clean mind
Have an innocent laugh

It's disgusting really
And sad we all failed
But I'm an optimist
So I try to let it all fade away

Head hurts with shaky balmy
Palms
Learned to grasp for things
Not my own
Home at last and fast
Asleep
With hallucinations of the
Dark underbelly
Giving my anxiety a place to call
Home
Tone deaf and jittery
Mute and on edge
I push forward
Wary of every step

today I woke up and thought of you
I missed you
and wanted to talk to you
so I wrote you this
and sent it to you

Lets all write poems
Let's write mostly above love
And how much our heart hurts
And how sensitive we are

Let's all write poems
Let's write about somebody from the past
Let's cling on to sad memories and complain
Artistically

Let's all write poems
That all sound the same
We should all be anonymous
But **** that

I seek fame

you heard in your sleep
When your resting hours were
Few
And you wept when you woke up
And I asked you why
You looked at me hard
Wide eyed and wild
You said you had a dream
That you had my child

Its about you *******
Now return to the conversation
I know you can't stand it
But your terrible at communication
So step by step
We build a full house
As I pray and wonder
What your wearing under
Your blouse
Thank god it's Friday
But it's already past
The treasured moments are few
And never last

no not now
no not never
waiting for the words
that are gushy and clever
And ever so slightly
In touch with the rest
Of the way things seem
It turns out to be less
Pressed by emotion
And powerful vibe
Stressed in commotion
Actually ****** and jive
Check the mic and step up to the plate
The bowl is empty because we already ate
So it's time to listen
As my rhyme scheme glistens
It's transparent what's missing
This is my poetic christening
Transitioning into position
And now it's over and that's ok
Because I completed my mission
Or at least I will someday.

Angled faced Prince of crime and midnight terror
Dreamer of dastardly acts and malicious intentions
Hipster flipped Cat-Holed dipping into sunsets
Hasn’t made a killing because he hasn’t had a gun yet
******* of music and strait faced combat
And a vindictive purpose
but he has not yet won that
Silent speaker waiting for his turn
It’s almost here
Dready Heady Nugget Face
My friend
Sipping his beer

#beautiful #people

The interpretation
of biblical equations
led to justified discrimination
And subsequent *******
including horrid abominations
committed by all the world’s nations
(which are simply human’s creations)
faking focus on all of the news stations
pretending to help all of those poor Haitians
until it forgot them too with such elation
As to turn your head no longer facing
the bullets and shell casings
leave you running and pacing
until cops are slowly tracing
your body in chalk
No more wine tastings Mr. Hasting
because you drank too much
and can’t talk.
Now your stalking your ex’s
and killing all in sight
“lord please protect us!”
From Moral assault in west Texas
brought to you and directed
by the world’s democratically elected
Except I figured it out
after I prodded and dissected
what is lauded and protected
the diseases of this world that are financially connected.
That Jesus will never be scientifically resurrected
and even with this conclusion
I am still being spiritually affected.
The END.

The bottom the bottle of whiskey
Bashes my insides and face with wrinkles
Strewn about my eyes and smile,
Wildly grown from the child I  seek inside
myself
So hypocritically
That innocence I contemplate
As I **** and pillage my morals with
Actions so contemptible and occasionally
Outrageous I want to repeat
HYPOCRITICAL
I yell as that innocence beckons me
My simpler thoughts distorted by mad, mad
silly behaviors of an actor I’ve acted to be
Because this actor
Others will act like
This mad, silly rampage has left for me
nothing but ink on paper, napkin paper,
carbon paper, construction paper, rolling        
paper, paper for later and notebook paper
This paper my savior allowing me to finalize
and analyze my actor’s mad, mad , silly
behavior.

When rip tiding sliding ravaging
And questioning that equestrian suggestion
Making hesitations about the lack of vegetation
Due to global microwaves
And that came straight from the horse’s mouth
Or you can doubt
Tom
Mr. Doubting
Tom
Like we should’ve doubted Vietnam
Dropping all types of incendiary bombs
On the unseen,
untouched trails
of the ghost like Vietcong
And that is not to be doubted
Or creating a hatred so absurd and obtuse
loosely based
on History, relatives and carrying their ******* baggage
Through the years.
I’d rather smoke and drink beers until I am bleeding out ears of corn
And then maybe we could feed somebody in this rat race.
This ******* place.
I mean, great city and all
But it stinks like **** out there.  And you know it.

I feel tiny, powerless, a yelling screaming nobody
Concerned about everybody but myself
And no amount of wealth or education
Will make me start chasing any goals for
Myself that aren’t free for the taking
And I’m acting and faking and spewing
Sweating and shaking afraid of my own *******
Shadow but not afraid of rain storms or of snowy roads
Or weather or spiders and darkness or pulling
All nighters and my grimace is getting more wrinkly and tighter
Because I’m hollow and shady and barely making these words
about how I hate me
Ever so softly into the night with havoc and terror and ****** on my mind
I’ll have indeed murdered sleep
Ill ****** death itself with my luck