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Nov 2013 · 762
Too lonely to sleep
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
the witching hour is upon me
my eyelids are heavy
but never drooping
for the past two years I've been tired
but unable to sleep
without jane or jack
but **** man
those jokers will only take a man so far
and in my case it was to a lot of nights
in a bad situation - dead to the world
or waking up in a haze - unable to remember anything
but I know this double bed feels continents wide
and in it I feel small and vulnerable
there's a fine line between independence and loneliness
and I already used that line on you
trying to get you to keep me company
no ***
or fooling around
deep rapid breaths and the sweet smell of sweat in the air
just somebody to sleep with
to feel their warmth and my warmth reflected back
God
I am tired
Nov 2013 · 1.9k
Towers of Red, Amber, Green
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
"******* old man"
He told them to turn the **** noise down
stopped at the Hugenot and Robious light
they were 16 with cigarettes, a bowl named Willem Dafoe, and an old VW hippy van
Too drunk and throwing up in Mom's best frying pan
pain pills because they all saw an orthodontist
a camelback full of two types of whiskey boiling in the van at noon
the two headed beast spewing into one toilet
shrooms
acid
DMT
all chemically hard to pronounce
they saw the face of God as she mourned her own death
sweet lovely death
bittersweet like chasing bourbon with coke
lost in the maelstrom of growing responsibilities
amber
then green
they tore down Robious laughing
and singing punk music at the top of their lungs
hbaxter94.com
Nov 2013 · 1.8k
Memento Mori
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Sunglasses stolen from Wingz in Duck, NC
a $15 thrift shop suit - just in case
the car is used
and the cashiers at the GoodWill down the street all know his face
bagged eyes
morning after hair
in need of a shower and a smile

He just bought a $200 laptop
now he masturbates in style
shoving Lenovo 2in1's and iPad's up their ***
please sir - may I have some more
status symbols symbolic of castes
and he hides among the untouchables
but this **** is loud
and I don't drink ***** unless P Diddy made it
Memento Mori
when we die -
we'll leave behind remnants of our false idol
hbaxter94.com
Nov 2013 · 1.0k
Real Nice Time
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
The car got towed last night
while I'm in the kitchen
greasy feasting on your side dish
would ya like fries with that?
putting spoons in spaghetti plates
when I go home and roll into taco bell
like an Egyptian pharaoh
buying all of the cinnamon twists
with a wallet flapping empty over the plastic and latex rings
condoms in my wallet from last summer
still optimistic
The gas light is on
and I just got a ten spot
with tobacco in my teeth
and house dressing on my jeans
I'll smile through the *******
and have a real nice time
Nov 2013 · 797
For the second time today
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
too drunk to blog
allow me to send my inebriated thoughts
ton the temporal lobes which halo your ears
I spend seventeen seconds spending spent time
on times spent wallowing in the too many you're the bests
genesis is failing
genesis is falling upon us
like snowflakes spent forgetting the times we forgot
I forgot to tell you
no matter how drunk I get
I will remember you
so let's regret the forgotten reasons
of reasonable men reasoning the realist responses
of people who forgot to check their phones
for the second time today
Nov 2013 · 510
For the second time today
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
too drunk to blog
allow me to send my inebriated thoughts
ton the temporal lobes which halo your ears
I spend seventeen seconds spending spent time
on times spent wallowing in the too many you're the bests
genesis is failing
genesis is falling upon us
like snowflakes spent forgetting the times we forgot
I forgot to tell you
no matter how drunk I get
I will remember you
so let's regret the forgotten reasons
of reasonable men reasoning the realist responses
of people who forgot to check their phones
for the second time todau
Nov 2013 · 482
penny fountain God
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
I have a nickel in my pocket for every time you said
no, not this time
period
take it back to another period
and spend your time spending money you don't have
none of us have the heart to say no so the sun
but the moon is a constant reminder
of the remnants of what we are
and we were
what we could be
could be a penny thrown in a fountain
where we make wishes to a God
we said goodbye to
long ago
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
The sun hides behind the clouds
but I see feet beneath those curtains
on a Sunday a girl with short hair and lesbianism smiles at me
You shouldn't mix plaid with stripes
that's like fashion 101
so I walked down the street
buttoning my plaid shirt up
when I fell down a  man hole
and a mole man said to me
you shouldn't buy those Adidas shoes
they treat the workers horribly
so I took them off
and cut my naked feet on rust ladder rungs
I went to the top floor
they told my I shouldn't wear my jeans so creased
they scoffed at the words denim
so I took my pants off and made them into a sail
I went to the mirror
and it told me I should fit a size bigger
and that I should probably work out some more
I tore muscular and skeleton systems from the pages of biology text books
and used it for kindling
to warm my cold shoulders
Nov 2013 · 1.3k
The Sound of Music
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Long walks with no destination
spending three hours talking ******* before realizing netflix stopped playing a while ago
getting drunk as hell with close friends
getting slightly less drunk around strangers
Weather good enough to smoke **** by the river in the middle of November
not being on the schedule anymore at your old job
looking forward to your new job
control
These are a few of my favorite things
a little self-indulgent maybe, but then again so is blogging: hbaxter94.com
Nov 2013 · 814
Out There Wandering
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
the rain falls down in small volleys
they call it daily showers
the temperature rises to near sixties
uncharacteristically ominous
rising to a foul stagnation
and the fog rolls in to obscure sight
it's hard to see but so far ahead of you
when you're out there wandering
Nov 2013 · 947
Waiting to Fall
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Does a sociopath love?
does the child who pinches the girl sitting next to him in kindergarten?
The tongue tied middles schooler
hey.. uh.. um.. I was like... well.. just wondering... You wanna like maybe... dance or something
the text recipient writing four drafts of his response reading:
what are you doing this Friday night?
The jolt of lightning which rips through his body
a current sent from her through their clutched hands
or the girl who blushes when Prince tall, dark, handsome, and charming
looks her in the eye and smiles
we all stand on the edge of the cliff
waiting to be pushed
praying that they are there when we hit the ground
with a hug, a coffee, and a thick blanket
we all want somebody to love us in the ways we could never love ourselves
so we might be complete
hbaxter94.com
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Her backbone is a long stretch of American western highway
I trace my fingers eastbound/westbound across the slats of her ribs
pressed against the skin ready to pop
She left southside Midlothian Virginia as soon as she was old enough to make her own bad decisions
sick of being looked at
eyes grading like the big fat red D's stamped on her math homework
She left by foot
bus
plain
train
that grey jetta with the scratch down the passenger side from where she parked too close to that ugly Subaru
she left me
but she needed to breathe some air that wasn't stale with mediocre pretension and the frat house odor of stale beer and sawdust
so run wild
fly free
may your lips utter cliches without fear of derision
go make your life an incredible story
beautiful
ugly
hard to look at
can't look away
make your life a story
and I'll record it
want more? find me at hbaxter94.com
Nov 2013 · 1.4k
The Doe in the Forest
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Don't smile at me
especially not with your eyes
it's just not fair.
Every single one of you has the upper hand on me
I see you at cafes
at parties drunk beyond mischief
I see you in the elevator
on the streets
through my window
in my high school year book
In my dreams
the first poem I wrote on this site
about three hundred or so ago
so **** romantic and cheesy
but that's how you make me feel
your blonde hair
your chestnut hair
black hair
green, blue mahogany eyes
the natural born mothers
the rebels
the ones who just wanted me to feel good about being me
all of you so **** special
I've loved you all at some point or another
but that doesn't make it fair
when I see another one of you
at the party
smiling, dancing, asking me to take shots
I can't say no
the only thing I want
validation from making you feel validated
and beautiful
like you are
all I want to say is this
Whether it be one conversation lasting from the lobby to the second floor
or a life long friendship
I'm thankful for all of you
the doe in the forest
Nov 2013 · 1.5k
Interview With Hate
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
let me introduce you to my old friend
Jax (Jackson) Hate
ladies and gentlemen
tell 'em about yourself
why don't you, you're the writer
I've known Jax for as long as I can remember
UK to US
kids to teen to?
to a sentimental ***
He's an *******, but he's my *******
He kept me safe
kept me laughing
when I was lost he found me
stop you're making me wet
I love him
really - I do
I'd love me too
The scruffy, scatter brained, *** crazed, sarcastic sociopath is more than blood to me
My imaginary friend who leaped straight from somebody else's nightmare to rescue me
You looked so pathetic, let's be honest, I didn't really have a choice.
He was the one who went straight for the cricket bat in playground scraps
taught me everything I know about manipulating women
You'd still just be loving your right hand every night if we never met
Yeah, but I'd still be in college
Yeah? Rotting away with the other soon to be bovine corpses? Stellar plan my man. ******* A
No, now we rot alone
Smells more like waiting for the legend to take hold. We'll own this world by proxy.
Me, I'm a kid who writes
Jax?
He's a murderer at heart
the hurricane to my calm, rippling koi pond
You forget I'm a misogynist.
I don't know if he's here to stay
I don't know if I ever want him to leave me
no longer mutually parasitic
*the ******* end
An experiment. But if you are as intrigued as I am then find me at hbaxter94.com
Nov 2013 · 968
My Kinda Crazy
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
we cross paths without seeing the same thing.
Ghosts facing each other through the speeding windows of passing cars
blur the line between reality and perception
and you realize that nobody is right
What if the red I see isn't...
The way I see it
we're all insane
it's why I know how to make you see what you're supposed to
while I've personally never seen it
I'ts why we obsess
and scream alone in empty hallways
riding down the street on a bicycle
quacking like a duck
I'm glad I'm my kinda crazy
and you should be too
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Breath in deep through the nose
out through the mouth
repeat to beat this cold sweat
has the room stopped spinning yet?
speed it up
maybe you had one too many cups
last night you got pretty tight
pretty wired
too tired to worry about being tired the next morning
smoking **** as soon as you got home's the reason you're moaning
feel the room go all vertigo
and clutch the **** stained toilet to your chest
flip that face to give the other cheek some cold tile love
but don't fall asleep in here
your alarm clock is in the other room
do you need to puke, ****, or ****?
you know you want to puke it out
cleansing expulsion of ****** fluids
decide to say ***** it
weave your way along the wall to your bed
fall don't flat breath rasping and rattling
like the firing up of a Gatling gun
close the eyes
and let the spins take you on a downward spiral
wake up and take six advil
the night always tries to steal the sun
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
That being said
we give as good as we get
don't stop at neon red hands
nothing but green go men
across clay and goshen
behind the Siegel center
Don't go to was with rams
a play pen ain't just for the kid
we need playpens for grown men
so I play with my pen
while I wait for my beer to get here
Don't point fingers at me
I cut looser than amateur directors
I cut looser than sad teenagers
never reaching the veins or arteries
with a BAC over 9000
I grew up on the internet
but tonight I throw up in your bathroom
and thank you for keeping the towels laundered
cheers for tonight
may tomorrow never come
Nov 2013 · 900
The Bold Try With Risk
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
These gears grinding in my head
the most dangerous part of my body
controlling the switch
icy and collected
         to
eyes pinpoint, sweating and shaking
      on fire
mixing my metaphors
with heavy handed similes
and **** headed diction
cocky connotations
lock stock and barrel
shock collared, shattered
tectonic plates are shifting
     alignment
and it is time to be
      bold
to risk/gamble win/lose
*to try
Nov 2013 · 3.0k
recycle me
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
the tick in the clock
the chatter of an ignition
dishes clanking
Mr. Everywhere
nowhere to be seen
the lungs don't show the lifetime spent escaping
times are cold
but it's too hot in the kitchen
make me a transient drifter
with a handkerchief on a stick
eating an apple
in a boxcar making it's way through cold night
make me disappear a wrangler
an outlaw
delete my typos
and move me to the recycling bin
Nov 2013 · 1.3k
Hunger. Strike
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
You spend lone enough waiting tables
or washing cars
or standing behind a register
and you feel a part of you
that played thumb wars and jump rope
die just a little
yeah I know the plight of the proletariat is cliched
but that doesn't mean it's not there
you feel the disdain grow
and even more so
you get hungry
and no ham 'n cheese can fix that
hunger nor nutrition
but for any small sign that all of the toiling
might just pay off.
Well if I go another day without eating that meal
I might just crack
drive my car into oncoming traffic
take as many suckers with me
then they might remember my name
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
"I think I'm done drinking and smoking."
He says to the near empty room
the lights all off and the blinds down.
suicide is easy if you have enough time on your hands
being the devil's plaything isn't all that bad
The left side of his index finger
the right side of his thumb
stained yellow by oral fixation he never quite shook
More of a skeleton than a person
with hands that don't stop shaking
until the liquid sterilizes his soul
"Yeah man,"
...
...
"I think I'm done with all that ****."
he says between **** rips
"Hey,
if you're going to the kitchen,
could you grab me a beer?"
Nov 2013 · 772
Talking
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
"Keep quiet
why do you always have to yell?"
If I kept it down,
I fear you wouldn't hear me
well enough
"Just slow it down.
You're talking at a mile a minute."
If I talk fast it's only because
I fear I don't have enough time
to say what I need to say
"Do you have to swear so much?
it sounds ugly. It doesn't sound smart."
If I swear
It's only because I fear your loss of attention
"Why do you always sound so sad?
Just smile.
Lighten up."
If I sound sad
depressed
upset
it is only because
I fear for you
Nov 2013 · 2.6k
A Love Story
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
I was six or seven
I realized the dragonball Z comics I was drawing
needed a story line to make any **** sense
that was the first time
Then I was twelve
writing gangsta rap with my friends
a group of English farm kids
who couldn't be any whiter
That's when I realized who she was
By fourteen I was writing things which resembled stories
only not really
fifteen sixteen seventeen
they were growing stronger
February of my eighteenth year I wrote that first poem
I thought it ******
and it did
but still
people liked it
poem after story after novel attempt after poem after story after...
almost twenty years old
the words are thicker
shorter
harder
but still,
we're not there
but I can't wait until
the days of matrimony bells ringing in empty churches
the day were you give in to my
I do
We'll write our own vows
burn our sacred cows
we'll write a love story
which won't ever be forgotten
Nov 2013 · 1.8k
Tequila aftertaste
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Salt on the back of my hand I know so well
shot of tequila to remember you scent
**** the lime down to bring the balance
How are you tonight
better than me,
surely.
My chestnut girl
my top teeth too long
upper lip too short
best friend
making me feel saintly for taking your nerves and melting them in my palm
pleading to Gods I never met
for this last bet
to end up winning
I'm losing my sanity with every breath expelled
but who want's to be sane
when in the land of the blind
the seven eyed man is king?
Sane insane saints and sins cast across the wall like suicide grey matter
the children wouldn't understand
It's probably for the best
but when tequila clouds the back of my throat
my sinuses remind me of the sound of you
playing guitar
and singing the songs
which held you close in childhood
Nov 2013 · 781
Stranger Danger
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Don't approach
the humanity encroaches upon the macabre
I dance pencils, pens, and cigarettes across my knuckles
like hypnosis
I drink and smoke until I'm hypnotized by Hippy free love ideals
This **** makes no sense
but I'm fine with being sensibly nonsensical
It's a character trait
when you're strange
the doors and good old Jim
couldn't capture it better
Nov 2013 · 565
In the mood to drown
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Let's be honest people
I write too many of these **** things
for all of them to be any good
I know that the notifications from Harry J Baxter can get annoying
the only thing is
I'm not whole yet
and each poem I write
****** or great
removes a piece of me which is deemed
unessential
Pain is weakness leaving the body
*******
pain is the body leaving the idea of weakness behind
one minute
two minutes
three minutes later
I'm dealing with ten views and one like
which is fine
eat me up
I taste like ****
but I'm nutritious
that's for ******* sure
read my three hundred and something poems
and try to tell me you know my life
you'd still be wrong
working on working towards being completely honest
but a part of me cries against the crimes of obvious weakness
that's fine
patience is a a part of my best part
I can write ****
until there's no **** left to come out
that's the goal
aim
desire
I can sound similar at times
but don't fall asleep
this ocean runs deep
and is ready to explode
hold your friend's hand
a tsunami is brewing
and I'm in the mood to drown
Nov 2013 · 925
Drunk Poetry
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
1800
Georgie boy
busch
bud
coors
PBR
they slide down the relaxed throat
of an unrelaxed youth
and these red squiggly lines mark my poems
as if to say
hey,
Harry buddy,
you realize that you make no ******* sense,
right?
and who decides what is and what isn't
nonsensical
All I know is that these crazy ******* yankees
are making me lose my grip on the English stiff upper lip reality
My tenth grade history teacher/JV soccer coach
liked to make songs up about me
There's only one Harry Baxter
true.
only not
there are many of us
the good Harry
The bad Harry
Ugly Harry
and swagger Harry
Violent Harry
and introspective Harry
Romantic and evil
caring and selfish
I get drunk to forget everything
life
money
cares
desires
needs
duty
I write about ten ******* poems a day
not because I'm prolific
or inspired
not because I'm deep
or smart
or romantic
I write because it stems the tide of suicidal thoughts
which barrage my inactive mind
like cannon *****
and I've got great ***** of fire
rushing the pace of every word I spit
but I'm afraid of my own genetic cowardice
From grandfather to father to son
it runs through my veins like people and bulls
I'm drunk tonight
I'll be drunk tomorrow
and what the hell do you care?
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
The apartment was covered with ash and dust. It wasn’t a big deal, only it made them self conscious of the filth. Matthew and Steve were used to the filth, but nobody else was. Dust hung suspended from sunlight like a death sentence.
“What are you doing tonight?” Steve said.
“Drunk. High. Who the hell knows?” Matthew said.
“What about Katie? That girl you’ve been talking to?”
“What about her?”
“Are you seeing her tonight?”
“No, not tonight. Tonight is for getting drunk.”
“so get drunk with her. She’s probably lonely thinking about you.” Steve said.
“We both know it isn’t that simple.”
The platter before the two of them carried salt, tequila, and sliced limes. They split a shot of tequila and sighed out their discomfort into the dead air. They downed another shot.
“listen man, I’m done with the dumb drunk girls, that’s all.” Matthew said.
“Shut the hell up man. You know she isn’t like that. Just text her.”
“what do you know.” The air settled between them. Matthew felt inside his breast pocket for his cigarettes. Lighting one he said,
“It’s not like you and that girl Danielle are making progress.”
“You’re right. But you actually like her.”
“Okay Dr. Phil.”
“All I’m saying is I’m going out tonight. If you spend another night bull ******* alone, I’ll kick your ***.”
“Okay. Yes sir.” Steve stood up and put on his backpack, ready to leave for the night.
With the apartment empty Matthew felt more at home. Stephen was a great guy, but he was naive about a lot of things. Things which really mattered. Like the disposition of other people. The only judge we have.
Matthew stood up and poured himself yet another tequila shot. Grimacing as it went down, shaking his face left and right to shake off the alcohol.
Matthew wrote some shity poems, waiting for the online responses to flow in like they always did. The 1800 tequila was empty, but he still had a whole litre of bourbon left to slug down.
“Here’s to me.” He said as he drank a shot by himself.
He felt the stress of the night’s potential weighing down on him and became alive.
“Let’s see what’s going on out there.” he said to himself as he tightened the belt around his jeans. He left his ****** apartment feeling ready to take on life.
Pulling out his cellphone he dialed Bernard’s number.
Ringing, ringing, ringing still.
“Hello” Bernard’s voice said.
“Yo, It’s Matthew. What are you doing tonight.”
“Going to some party with Cornice., You should come.”
“What’s the address?”
He sent the address and Matthew walked into the slowly cooling night.
Grace street is lined with legions of homeless. They post up at bus stop after bus stop. All the way past the police station. Matthew gave out a few cigarettes before he made it to broad and belvedere - the location of Bernard’s apartment. It was warm in there, the scent of pumpkin spice lattes permeated through the air with the central heating.
“How’s school going B-rad?” Matthew asked.
“How’s being a worthless drop out going?” Bernard said.
“Same old same old.”
“Well, how’s Cornice doing, anyways?”
“I don’t ******* know. Alright I guess?”
“**** I know the feeling man. Oh well. We’ll get drunk as **** tonight right?”
“You know it dude.”
The two young men gathered themselves and then left the apartment on a quest to find out something more about themselves.
Nov 2013 · 1.0k
RVA-lution
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
yeah we're getting drunk at four in the afternoon
we don't have anywhere to drive to.
we have no class
no responsibility
my city's filthy
I live in the art district
nobody else anywhere else in the world can say that
Richmond knows how to lay it down
how to make the children feel invincible
how to make the women feel like super models
and the men like long lost kings
don't like my poems?
that's fine
we flow to a different drum beat
yeah we are a bunch of
PBR swilling hipsters in our non corrective lenses
but we know how humanity dances back and forth
like the flickering of candle light
and I've never felt out of place here
only just as weird as everybody else
we are pathological liars and sociopaths
our apathy is only matched by our endless empathy
My Mum thinks I am a hell of a writer
endless support
but the anonymity never ends
a scroll from God to lead us to death
and the transvestites are polite enough
boy you smell ****\
they blurt out as I walk past in a cloud of old spice
the art school chicks make me feel validated
when I find myself sneaking out of their houses in the morning's yawn
come to Richmond if you want a good time
if you're fake you'll make it
but if you're bitter and jaded
you might pass out of interest
like cartoons to a 15 year old
I could talk **** on this city all night
but truth be told
I love what I hate
and truth withheld
don't tell my English friends
that my heart beats
solely for that
RVA-lution
Nov 2013 · 571
Night time creatures
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Should I be good?
I know I should
but at the same time
these people wade through nightmares like babies
and they can't handles the red and black of this world
doors opening on scenes of horror
but it's what we are used to
the endless sound of knuckles on cheek bones
the sound of fist meeting flesh
violence, danger, rage
we're all hooked on a non familial story
and we eat it up like fish eat bait.
all I'm saying is once the sun descends
carry a tight visage of toughness with you
because once the night time creatures come out to play,
you're never safe
Nov 2013 · 1.3k
Humanity is choreographed
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
have you ever given your life to the ethereal?
shapes and faces forming in the night time hours
you don't know their names
nor their stories
but you know they are people who make you feel good
their stories level out the chaos of yours
they are from far away places
they are the people with far away problems
that make yours seem so finite
they dance beneath the glowing full moon
they dance until their bodies tire desperately
they say your name like a holy entity
they breathe out the sighs you breathe out in pain
they text you in the dead hours
hey, how're ya doin?
and you reply
better now
and that is all there is to it
to the choreographed dance of humanity
Nov 2013 · 402
Girls
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
so there's a girl
***** her name
that matters to me,
but not you
she's my best friend's girl
but she's great
we click just like how I can't snap
She's a good chick
and I never say chick
but she's cool
she makes him happier
but she makes me happier
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
when it becomes more about
how ****** up can we get
how far away from sober can we fall or rise
when the see saw always has the neighborhood fat kid sitting at the other end
then it might be time to evaluate your life
but,
then again,
there's still a half case of PBR in the fridge
and marijuana's hiding behind every single corner
exciting until it gets too boring
then you can always search for that gateway they prattled on about so much in health class
walking down a straight edge only leaves you with ****** feet
and you need those suckers for running,
right?
Nov 2013 · 2.7k
Too cool for School
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
High school was a breeze
I mean forget the braces years
and the glasses and the acne and the bone crushing awkwardness
it was a breeze
rolling around in Mark's beat up VW hippie van
Smoke trailing behind us as we tore through suburban Richmond
worrying about Mom 'n Pop's more than the DEA and Cops
and finding empty houses to drink what we thought was good alcohol
if no houses were available
we'd just wait for the parentals to fall asleep
singing pop punk at the top of every lung
rapping along to gangster rap
hopelessly Caucasian
class was a joke
homework a no go
and we'd worry about the consequences later
talking about how we couldn't wait to be grown
well I'm growing now
and I can tell you
no bed time is awesome
but it isn't all it's always cracked up to be
Nov 2013 · 382
Leggo my Ego
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
I know that the ego is dangerous
everybody sends out warnings for me to **** it
but **** it man, I love that side of me
the side that needs validation from drunk strangers
who take me to their home in the early hours of whatever day it is
or the laughter from a good joke at work
likes and views and comments on these poems
yeah ego is dangerous
but I'll be ****** if it isn't fun
Nov 2013 · 756
Could Be Worse
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Got a job waiting tables
put the two weeks in at the car wash
tomorrow's my day off
It's November,
but the sun still thinks it's September
filtering through the dead leaves on bare limbs the color of nostalgia
at a cool seventy degrees
a last hurrah for sundresses and short shorts
fine by me
I'm writing a poem by my open window
letting the dusty, smoky room breathe for once
sure, things could be better
but they sure as hell could be worse
Nov 2013 · 322
Heaven isn't a place
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
to make it to heaven
you have to wade through hell
the pearly gates are hidden inside the gaping maw of a black sea monster
and with just you
your two hands
two feet
left brain
right brain
you have to walk through the fire
feel the parts of you which are not essential burn away
and by the time you're through hell
you realize that heaven isn't a place
it's person you saw in the mirror all of those years ago
that the lives we live imprisoned on the other side of the glass
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
you made some choices
maybe the only choice you made
was to let somebody else make all the choices
but you are excellent at finger pointing
and complacency
even better at keeping your mouth shut
great at getting ******
weekends don't mean the same to you as they do to others
you spent your only free time getting higher or lower than the others
pop a pill
take a shot
or burn a fatty
we're all committing suicide in some way
we're all born under the death sentence of a clock which only runs backwards
time is limited and is not something we get back in change from a cash register
or in a tip from some ******* customer who is so much more important than you
the kids are all smiling and laughing with ease
and you hate them for it
jealousy is one hell of a vice
and on those nights were you gripped the pillow tight to your chest just not wanting to be alone
you always are
and your alarm clock is always set for 6:45
in the AM
and you don't get home until 5:30
PM region
you give and give and give and wait and wait and wait
just like they told you to
because God forbid you try to take it
make it break it fake it or forsake it
just get back in line
the bouncer will let you know when you can come in
a 25 to life cover charge required,
of course,
and put your lighters and rags and spirits away
this won't be the day you crack
and burn that palace of mediocrity to the ground
paste that big plastic plaster smile on your face
grimace because it's about to come out of you
"Thank you sir. Have nice day. We appreciate you business."
Nov 2013 · 1.1k
Be Legendary
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
I could type this in all caps
to show you I'm screaming
I could live my life behind a fist or switch blade
to show you I'm desperately close to falling off the edge
I could treat you like a *******
to show you I'm only talking to you for one thing
I could cut tic tac toe into my wrists
to show you my own spilled blood is just a game to me
I could be the person they want me to be
I could be the person I should be
But I'm not
I don't
I won't
I live behind a mask made of keystrokes
and one too many silences
waiting for the ropes binding me to fray enough
where my getaway isn't front page news
but a part of a much bigger legend
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
perched in a thick mess of pine trees
my head rotates three hundred and sixty degrees
scouring for the vermin I make my prey
I own the night time skies
silhouetted against a harvest moon
death is coming in my dreams
and with it comes new life
wisdom of the self
aware of the lies which cover the world in its blanket of grey snow
the owl lives in my skull

The coyote stalking the empty desert highways
looking for roadkill
looking for the weak and alone
I cackle into the dead sterile air
for every pack member lost to poachers
manic laughter for every left turn which results in dead ends
stealthy patient
hungry and haunting
the coyote treads the territory of my atriums and ventricles  

The hawk circles in the blinding midday sun
a deadly serrated dagger with wings
arrow let loose from the quiver of the Gods
impossible to tether and domesticate
finding ultimate freedom in the vast openness of the sky
lock on,
tuck the wings,
nose dive deep into the waters of the ****
a creator
a teacher
a messenger of truth
the hawk soars in the infinity of my soul

ID
EGO
SUPEREGO
Nov 2013 · 822
less human than more human
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
I see them walking down streets with names like
old buckingham
old gun road
westchester common street
robious
hugenaut
broad
grace frankling main cary
carry the weight of a group of ****** up **** ups
trying to "make a difference"
delusional *******
difference is made from killing a status quo
and their hands shake like childrens'
take a stake in the mental quake of the plasticity of the fake looking for mates
I'm tumbling down sure fall peak
free fall
until falling free is forgotten as a quest
childe roland to the dark tower came
yeah I went to college for a little bit there
broke out when I broke out of a sane frame of mind
swallow the sludge created by incontinent consumerists
snakes on trees make better friends than invisible fathers
but get these depressed lunatics out of my sight
feeling a fight bubbling up
complaints are for the complacent
so I don't see you
fear or hear no evil
evil makes good possible
using my vice versa as my vice
quoting bible quotes verbatim
I don't ft right
jigsaw piece chewed up by toddlers
jam me into place
and cover me in duct tape to silence the protests
Nov 2013 · 682
parasite of lost nights
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
please Lord this boy need's Jesus
**** that
tell God he needs to find a shrink
no a priest
no an altar boy getting ****** by the father
woops that one slipped out
like they slipped the boundaries of good taste and human decency
I'm a nightmare for the nice folksy people
I take their money
put in the church's biggest mausoleum
and burn it to the ground
take the daughters and sons
to the state border and set them free with a 24 cent phone call
inhale the night until we're all exhaled
pack my heater close to my business
walking with nerves taut
the breath breathed out by every man before the electrical storm
drinking fire in purgatory alley
until the gut glows hello
I slug back another PBR and let the night current take me
it's all alright
tonight we howl at the moon until it picks up the ****** phone
and we domesticate the domesticated in the art of the primordial
take a life tonight
yours his hers
it doesn't matter
we're all sprinting to the after life
and digging through earth is easier than ascending from earth on clipped angel wings
keep on slitting your wrists
and I'll keep on drinking your blood
Nov 2013 · 807
Drug Ballad
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
forty ounce of miller happiness
the champagne of suicide
cut it back
smoke a pack of camels
smoke another
buy another
only fifteen bucks,
**** it right?
7-11 buffalo chicken rollers
to soak up the chemotherapy
track marks from the lighter burns from the space needle injections
smoke a **** pack
then another
then another
and re-up on GB's until the room starts to carousel
now onto the ****** fratboy lime-a-rita's
**** the 12'er
then it's hard stuff
like george dickel, cracken, and Jameson
still able to count the toes on your feet through your shoes
then add another witches brew to the cauldron
go out armed with three good friends and a knife
pavement pavement pavement
ladies
strangers
strange women
conversation
the most addictive drug of them all
take the shotgun in the mouth
and feel everything pop black
wake up next to a faceless face
send her home
go to work
write a poem
do it all again
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
It was a lonely night
East grace street
Richmond's art district
on the border of Jackson's Ward
my side of the city
more bums than students
right by the transvestite bar
I met a fellow,
strange in appearance
and mannerisms
black dress shirt
black slacks
black shoes
black hair slicked over a waxy skull
'scuse me sir
ya gotta smoke
no man, I'm all out
all tapped out for cash
wanna strike a bargain
this roadside stranger
the hour was wee
cracked a cracked teeth smile
I knew I should deny
but still...
what're your terms
use your wrists
veins
fingers
mouth
mind
heart
promote me
tell the people I'm still sittin' here on the side of the road with a sign askin forra smoke
I nodded
vocabulary voraciously stolen by the non vox populi
he gave me a pack of filters
I lit up
eyes dancing, lost in the cherry's afterglow
and I felt it gone
empty
dangerous
erratic
I sold my soul that night
and I don't feel like looking for it
Nov 2013 · 556
stepping razor
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
these jeans aren't clean little lady
a months worth of nights forgotten still clinging to the denim
and no
I don't know what that stain is
but you keep twirling your **** back side
to the back end of the beats of this song that I don't know
and yes I do have an accent
came here tonight from all the way across the great big Atlantic ocean just for you
just for tonight
just for tonight let's pretend like we've known each other for a lifetime
no,
no costume for tonight
I'm a college drop out wannabe wordsmith with a tongue sharper than this wit
Mr. feet never been cold
I like my whiskey neat
and you look messy
let's take a midnight stroll back to my place
and yeah it's messy
what's it to you?
I don't like the way my bed feels when I make it
or when I hit it alone
like the voice in the back of your head
TV white noise
radio song stuck in your head
I'm a hard habit to kick
so keep kicking the game that your spitting out of your mouth like one too many shots
and I'll show you a me time
Nov 2013 · 501
our first fight
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
it's funny
how much I revere you
how much I want to dot you eyes and cross your teeth
to all of my friends I sound like a corny school speaker
ideals, ideals,
ideas of fighting some good ******* fight
but what have I won?
what have I fought for?
isolation?
anonymity?
I dropped out of school for you
threw myself to your will
drank what you gave me
smoked with no complaints
and I've never felt so much of a need for validation
and don't act like i'm the bad guy
you're so fickle that I can't tell if you're coming
or going right out that door for some other schmuck
with less to say and a pair of skinny jeans
I'll drink you off tonight
******* out of my system
let go of you for a while
before I come crawling back to you in the morning
Oct 2013 · 599
balance isn't always great
Harry J Baxter Oct 2013
I feel strongly
on the left hand a heart pumps love to every girl who smiled at me at some point
on the right hand a motor smokes toxic hate in clouds over the people who won't wake up from being awake
duality
yin to a yang
black to white
but never grey
small government
but stop telling people who they should ****
left brain fights right brain in a no holds barred cage match
and I'm pulled apart at the seams
Oct 2013 · 961
Monsters
Harry J Baxter Oct 2013
the beast from the land
the beast from the sea
a false prophet
an antichrist
do they walk among us?
I'm no longer scared by ghouls, ghosts, or goblins
no longer do I fear the axe ****** or serial killer or ******
it's the supposedly good, god fearing, men of family that I fear
I fear the man who would see us enslaved for his profit margin to become slightly more pleasing
I fear the man who stands idly by supporting the massacre of the poor and innocent
so he can walk atop their corpses to pluck the apple from the tree of good and evil
these monsters aren't under the bed
they're not in the closet
they sit in breezy air conditioned office penthouses in the places were trouble doesn't mean the same thing as it does to us
keep your lanterns close children
and not just for tonight
don't talk to strangers
but certainly don't talk to men and women in nice suits who say they have your best interests at heart
these pigs have no hearts
all they have is hunger
Oct 2013 · 824
Legacy
Harry J Baxter Oct 2013
As children we played pretend in the playground
I shot you
you're dead, you're supposed to fall down
back when we were kids
when *** heads were junkies
drunks a sloppy mess of ugly
and the only cigarettes we put in our mouths were candy
we used to ding **** ditch the entire neighborhood for ***** and giggles
and hangout just to talk
now we raise dabs of felony hash oil washed down with rubbing alcohol, cancer, and razor blades
the clocks melted before we could reset the hands
and all of the tools we need have been turned into resin covered smoking apparatuses anyway
walking city streets alone wasted in the witching hour
praying some crazed *** pulls a blade
so we can at least die in a fight
Oct 2013 · 912
Venting smoke
Harry J Baxter Oct 2013
Get loud for Christ's sake
shake the walls
vibrate
black out red
we killed twelve Pakistani innocents with unmanned drones
and this silence is getting under my skin
there's a disturbing lack of politicians hanging from flagpoles across the country
no I didn't hear the new Q94 top tracks
and say yoloswag one more time,
I dare you,
you can find your teeth in the back of your throat
burn polo and nike to the ground
turn the CEO's over to the sweatshop workers
this quiet will **** us
but until it does
I'm off hunting
so don't find yourself on the wrong side of my iron sights
thin the herd until we near extinction
righteous fire is cleansing
and we will rebuild from the mountain of corrupted ashes
impotent rage is a trait of the youth
and I'm young enough to pop
if these airwaves stay dead for much longer
a little angry this morning. Blame the coffee or something. Happy Halloween kids
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