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7.8k · Mar 2013
Introvert
Harry J Baxter Mar 2013
Introverted tendencies paint the scene
free to think only when locked away
cold to other people,
distant even when close
a lifetime spent close to the chest
hanging on to
an isolation flotation device
dragged to endless parties
to stand people watching
in the corner
family asks questions of depressions
and are met with "okays"
I would go out and play
but I have some things
in my own head
which I have to take care of first
7.5k · Apr 2013
My Hometown
Harry J Baxter Apr 2013
My hometown
is a place
of rustic beauty
and simple people
a population
under 200
meant that
everybody knew everybody
farmer Neville
and his sheep
always on the loose
and the quiz night
at the pub
just another excuse
to get drunker and drunker
and the private boarding school
which I attended
so rich with false academia
we learned the lessons
which would prepare us
for the false prophets yet to come
and the public school
and their ***** uniforms
where I found my friends
friends who at this point
have arrest records
ranging from assault
to petty larceny
and criminally wasted potential
oh how I miss that town
even now,
because despite the racism
and xenophobia
which infest my kinsmen
I still have to believe
that things can get better
that life there
can match the beauty
of North Yorkshire farm lands
and woodlands
and friendly knowing smiles
My hometown isn't perfect
and I wouldn't have it
any other way
Harry J Baxter Apr 2014
I've been in a writing slump lately. I don't know why. I've been focusing on being a real human being again - getting back into school, being more sober, working more, making more money, working out, being more social. But whenever I find the time to write I just feel tired and want to sit on my *** watching tv. I don't know, this is just a rant I guess. I'm going to try to work on it. Keep scribbling guys- Harry J. Baxter
6.5k · Mar 2013
Sacred Cow Slaughterhouse
Harry J Baxter Mar 2013
I am a man
of no flag
no God
and no party
but this offers me
certain freedoms
like freedom from offense
and freedom to offend
I've always found the most
"offensive" jokes to be the funniest
like a sacred cow butcher
and if you are offended easily
this might not be the poem for you
that being said
here we go

Did you hear the one
about the last pope
who actually did any good?
yeah me neither
What did the pilot say
when the Muslim man
walked on his plane?
"This is flight 216
we may have a potential
security risk on the plane."
America: Land of the free
home of the brave?
where a vast majority
of the population
are wage slave cowards
and don't get me started on England
a hot nest of xenophobia and racism
which almost makes me glad
to not live there anymore
and it doesn't matter
if you are a democrat
or a republican
because either way
you are wrong, and dumb
did you hear the one about
the anti-gay republican in the gay bar?
He took the most drugged up man he could find
for some fun in the bathroom stall
because the chances are tomorrow
he won't remember enough to break the story

I live in the sacred cow slaughter house
(you can't spell slaughter without laughter)
and the only food that really satisfies me anymore
is USDA prime choice sacred cow beef
5.4k · Jul 2013
Prom night
Harry J Baxter Jul 2013
Prom night
Hoping for limelight
No fight towards the
Alcohol fueled lust
We just want what's just
To break off some rust
To end the night wrapped in her/his arms
Waking up to a cheesy love story
But nothing gory no glory
Just the generic songs
Playing through the generic throng
Of people looking for more
Maybe the unknown
Possibly the gold throne
But in the end
Teenagers aren't hard to get
So we danced young
Like we'd live forever
And at the end of the night
We made our own stories
5.2k · Mar 2013
Roommates in Hell
Harry J Baxter Mar 2013
Little girls with their hair in pig tails
old men chatting away over a game of cards
the endless clapping of heels on concrete
madness
business men in suits and ties
faces melding to iPhones
catholic priests ******* kids
they know his name
danger in a lightning flashed smile
panic in a thunder clapped laugh
they know his name
but it never leaves their tongues
he dances in the gaps of their teeth
and chips away at our heart strings
incessant whispers in our ears
telling us what we want
what we need
he stands off in the shadowed corners
of every forgotten room
in every one time family home
as we watch our worlds
crumble around us
if Christ lives inside of all
then he has one hell of a roommate
5.1k · Jan 2014
Stoner Logic
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
I don't know man. It just has been different lately, you know?

No not really. What do you mean? Like, explain it.

Okay so you know how you do it and you feel everything dissolve? You know? And that warm fuzzy light fills you up and the back of your head sags all the way to the floor? You know how you can't stop smiling? How nothing matters because everything is going to be chill in the end? You know?

Yeah? So what's the issue?

Well recently, and I mean very recently, I just got this feeling. This ******* feeling for two hours and all I want is for it all to be over.
The thing is - I know that everything is fine. That it's all chill and that I'm just geeking out, but still, the way it makes me feel. I can't do that anymore.

How the hell does it make you feel dude? Jesus can we get to the point sometime soon?

Right, my bad. It's my heart first. I feel my heart going at a thousand ******* miles a minute but when I check my pulse or heart beat - everything is normal. But still I feel it in my chest yapping like a dog at the front door and I can't convince myself that this is chill. Then it's my chest. You know how Jesus died of suffocation on the cross?

I thought they stabbed him before they suffocated?

Whatever, you know what I mean, how people on crosses couldn't breathe because of their arms and lungs and chest or whatever? Well I get this feeling that my chest is thinner than a sheet of printer paper. That every single time that I inhale it's never enough. Then I get this electricity in the back of my head. It creeps up from my sternum, through my throat and then to my brain stem. Like an itch you can't ******* scratch no matter how many layers of skin you go through?

Jesus dude.

Then I convince myself that I can't move my right hand. Convince myself I'm partially paralyzed. Only I'm watching my right hand move. But I feel like it has to be an illusion, because how the hell am I moving a paralyzed hand? It's all gotten so ******* twisted that I don't know which sense I can trust.

Well are you sure that that's the reason? Why don't you take a small geeb or something? For the sake of the scientific method?

Listen to me you fool. There is no method to this. Just madness. But I suppose, in the name of fairness, I should do some more research. Maybe just this one last time. Just to be sure.

Exactly... So you wanna smoke some ****?

Yes. I want to smoke some ****. Just for science and all that. I kinda have to. It'd be unamerican to not smoke, right?

Right.
4.4k · Apr 2014
Divine Strangers
Harry J Baxter Apr 2014
I am up at night
sending my prayers to anonymous strangers
because maybe they have the answers
maybe not the ones I want, but the ones I need
there is something beautiful about them
human blank canvases
potential for beauty
comedy or interest
their nameless faces
playing on the projector of my mind’s eye
the closest I have come to finding God
Harry J Baxter Apr 2013
I know that my life
became something else
something unwanted
unplanned
like a teenage pregnancy,
coming out of high school
they would have said
that boy has so much potential
very smart,
highly actualized,
mature

the only thing is,
about the same time I moved out
my parents decided
that my thirteen year old brother
wasn't worth pretending for anymore
they split
like a banana based dessert
and left me
and the three of my brothers
asking questions
our basis for true love
was fragmented
like a cartoon broken heart
and the pieces were too small to pick up,

so now here I am
no job
and no higher learning
to speak of
clinging to the words
which rush around inside of me
I've come to the realization,
there are no ****** up kids
only ****** up parents
and poor kids
who are left to
reestablish a basis
for love and life
I apologize for the angst, blame the liquor.
3.8k · Apr 2013
Marathon
Harry J Baxter Apr 2013
life is a marathon
it isn't easy
it isn't graceful
it isn't pretty
times will come which are so dark
even the sunniest of days feels cold
evil men sow their sins from the shadows
and it stops you in your tracks
like hitting a runner's wall
breathless stinging lungs
scream out against the lack of oxygen
like silent voices mourning a waking nightmare
but even from under the umbra
we might find something
worth redeeming
a helping hand offering us some much needed hydration
or friendly words of encouragement from strangers
life is a marathon
and we can't allow the runner's wall
to stop us from moving forward
for the sakes of our brothers and sisters
who didn't get their fair chance
to cross the finish line
all of my thoughts go out to those in Boston
3.6k · Feb 2013
symbiotic
Harry J Baxter Feb 2013
It's such a beautiful relationship
like birds cleaning crocodile teeth
feeding on what didn't make it to the stomach
these words rely on me
A vessel
and hopefully they don't
act like hermit *****
because without them
I would just be a ***
who drinks and smokes too much
But as long as I have the ability
to manipulate the world around me
in the chaotic rush
of my infinite mental expanses
and nooks and crannies
I can give them life
like a midwife
I bring them into the world
and name them poems
or stories
so that they might live forever
burned in the retinas of strangers
or etched on the wood of my desk
I hope we will always
need each other
3.3k · Jun 2013
Genie dominance
Harry J Baxter Jun 2013
What am I feeling?
What is this
I've always been a sucker for women
Yet I've always played
Close to the chest
Cheating the chest organs
Out of any hope
Of a future life
But I could marry you
One of my best friends
One of my best victims
I've always felt attached to
Women who are afraid of attachment
It's my curse
It's my gift
It's my all too shiny
Genie lamp
Just a rub away from
Complete dominance
Harry J Baxter Jun 2014
I was in a rush to grow up
look Mom no cuts
just a stomach of disgust
and the fear that I might go nuts this year
........
I've lost all faith in a world so full of hate
and I don't ******* love music
I just use it to escape
but wait,
I'm caught between wanting to punch someone in the face
and putting a bullet in my head to leave the human race
everything takes its toll
but no there's no toll I can take
I haven't yet found a good reason to be awake
Introducing my corroded bumps I hide behind my smile
I'm angry with the universe for the way she treats me now
and keeps me down
stealing all my energy
feeling like my enemy
concealing my identity
RIP OLIVER HART. If you are interested at all in finding poetry within other mediums of art, the midwest underground hip hop scene is an epicenter for story telling and poetry withing hip hop. Look up eyedea/oliver hart, Atmosphere, Sage Francis, Brother Ali, Grieves, Cecil Otter, Dessa, POS, and Mac Lethal
3.2k · Jan 2014
What if's
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
It seems as if
I always miss the mark
A shot in the dark
Surrounded by what if's
3.2k · Oct 2013
Trapped in Sunday Nights
Harry J Baxter Oct 2013
Sunday night is a dull hum
constantly buzzing in my ear
Sunday night is a broken clock
hands stuck at five to five
Sunday night is experiencing technical difficulties
bars of black, white, and other colors
Sunday is so high it can't get off the couch
was that somebody knocking at the door?
Sunday night is so drunk
it fell asleep in the closet
only to wake up thinking
this doesn't look like my bed
Sunday night is trying out for varsity
only to make the practice squad
Sunday night is a suburban strip mall
at five AM on a Monday

I took my Sunday nights
and poured them in a glass
downed it in one gulp
and projectile vomited
all over my Monday through Saturdays
I took my Sunday nights
and put them on a page for you
Harry J Baxter Jun 2013
I didn't sleep again last night
my yesterday is still taking place
as my fingers gently press these keys
so as to not wake my brother
restless,
I realized,
I've seen a sunset
but never a sunrise

the streets were still asleep
the only ones about
only the down and out
the poor black folk
the aimless hipsters
the homeless
the single mothers with three jobs
who wait alone
under a flickering street light
for the bus which will take them
to their deadpan jobs
the puddles from last night's storm
rest with not a ripple
and the pretty little birdies
start finding their voice
restless,
I realized,
after the sunsets
the world opens up her eyes

periwinkle horizons
blend easily with the grey skyline
and the line between man and God blurs
the sky is tropical mango cocktails
and pillows of white Caribbean sand
the smell is left -
like a residue -
chasing after the tail of a storm
but the air is wet to the touch
hinting at repeat of the downpour
and I would've sat on the arm of that denim sofa
hour after hour
until the world was ready to wake up
giving me a chance to sleep off their insecurities,
only,
I felt like writing this poem
only,
I felt like a sunrise
or maybe a sunset?
or just maybe
a ******* supernova
I felt good
brimming with peace in my gut
like a warm fire
restless,
I realized,
that after all is set
I will still love the sunrise
3.1k · May 2013
Wish You Were Here
Harry J Baxter May 2013
Oh,
how I wish you were here
telling me anything
you wouldn't even have
to say real words
but I miss the sound of you
almost as much as the sight
and on my loneliest of days
the pictures taken
revive a spirit
of a kindred spirit
maybe I'm selfish
and only miss you
because you make me a better me
like the night were you got too drunk
and fell asleep on my lap
spread out across the couch
and I gave you my bed
and took the floor
there are probably
a million little things
I could say to you
but they wouldn't be enough
to truly get the expression across
and certainly,
a cheesy thrown together poem
doesn't come close
to saying what I can't say
but I can say
I wish you were here
3.0k · Nov 2013
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
2.9k · Feb 2013
Bus Bench
Harry J Baxter Feb 2013
I saw you waiting at the bus bench
a cigarette gripped between your lips
an act of defiance
you were looking at your cell phone
impatiently
what were you waiting for
I noticed you down the street
your red hair blazing
the color of passion
your face looked hard
strong
prepared
and I wondered where you were going
It's funny but
I almost followed you onto that bus
but I didn't
I just waited by the bus bench
a cigarette in my lips
an act of imitation
as you drove away
2.9k · Jan 2014
All My Friends
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
I know I didn't treat a lot you right
I'm a closed book with a big bad padlock on it
maybe you could say trust issues
but **** it I love you guys
no ****
(maybe a little)
because no matter where or how I have been
I have had some great people there for me
to keep me walking along that tight rope
without the fear of a body full of broken bones
We climbed hay bales in Drax
and ran away from the farmer in his combine harvester
we let everybody's tires down
and we went to the club and stayed until closing time
until after there were no taxis left
walking four miles home at four in the morning
we had a laugh mate
And to my Yankee friends
The rest of the world may hate you
but I don't
(much)
video games all night
ding **** ditch
homecoming and prom
and smoking cigarettes behind best buy
whole days spent on a couch laughing harder than we were high
the bowl we bought together
aptly named Willem Defoe
Marathon movie nights
post virginity loss high fives
telling me you were proud of me
for how I handled my parents' almost divorce
And I'm a cynical, ******* introvert
and at times I never want to see a human being ever again
but when that feeling fades
you guys are the first people I text
2.8k · Sep 2013
The Strong Suffer in Silence
Harry J Baxter Sep 2013
the strong suffer in silence
silently willing the weight
to come loose from their shoulders
Atlas's back is breaking
somebody stepped on the wrong crack
but he stands there
shaking with effort
knowing it's coming
yet still he stands vigil
The strong suffer in silence
knuckles white from pressure
as blood makes its way out of clenched fists
white hot with rage
The strong suffer in silence
but they never forget
the ones who wronged them
2.8k · Apr 2013
first love
Harry J Baxter Apr 2013
I was a nerdy book loving
video game playing
weird music listening
awkward little short kid
in high school
the only difference
between now and then
is now I'm not in high school
and don't have the money
to buy video games
but throughout it all
since I was around 12 years old
I've been madly in love
like border line obsessed
with words,
they carry a mystique about them
capable of so much
yet objectively irrelevant
they are the conduit of humanity
and existence
and for every girl I've crushed on,
and a few time when it was more than a crush,
I would have picked the words over them every time
the same could go for my good friends
and even when I'm alone,
I'm never really alone
the words are everywhere I look
my first love
my only love
2.8k · Feb 2014
Perfectionist
Harry J Baxter Feb 2014
Go ahead and paint a picture of perfect
time slips between our fingers
like my tongue slipped between my lips
to say something stupid
politicians are sleeping soundly atop the knife
metal to the floor
pick up speed
pick up bad habits
linoleum is easy enough to clean
but khakis stain like a *****
but if you want to sell me your deepest darkest dream
I’ll haggle with you all night long
we give birth to Cobras and give them to the hungry mongoose
put me on the blacklist
my white flag is stained with blood and grey matter
but everybody in their right mind wants to get a chance
to walk through wrong altered perceptions
I stole your dream catcher
and I’m writing novels about your hopes
and faults and I track your arteries
along the fault lines of imaginary continents
is this insanity?
it’s easier said than done
play chicken with my train of thought
spine is steel is cowardice is machismo
put me under your microscope
tell me what’s wrong
I’ll give you a doodle on the back of a napkin
and a shoddily put together love poem
2.7k · May 2013
flirting with death
Harry J Baxter May 2013
He was sitting at the bar,
not a nice bar at that,
when she walked in
uplifted by the draft
as she let the heavy door
close behind her
draped in a black dress
with black hair
like a shroud
and pale skin
like bones
she sat two stools down from him
and ordered an old fashioned
and necked it down
before ordering another
and another
and another
losing none of her poise
and no sign of flushed cheeks
she made eye contact with him
and for the first time in his life
he knew fear
and he knew he wanted to be scared

He ordered two old fashioned's
and slid a stool over
and told her his name
holding out his hand hopefully
she took it
with dainty fingers
her skin was colder than the creek
that he had been dared to swim in
during the winters of his childhood
"I think we've met before" she said
a voice like a funeral dirge
"so you must come here a lot" he replied
"you could say that,
or you could come back to my place"
he was more than happy to oblige
together they trudged off into the inky night
and he was never seen again,
and the next night
she was back at that bar
drinking old fashioned's
and waiting to be approached
2.7k · Feb 2013
My dirty old Uncle
Harry J Baxter Feb 2013
My Uncle Dec
was really a ***** old man
and I loved him for it
Overweight, but you'd better believe
he ate whatever the hell he wanted
bad liver bad kidneys
but he really loved drinking
almost as much as he loved the horse racing
putting pennies on the ponies
and it didn't matter if he won
he just liked going to the ******'s
a lover of beautiful women
but a loving faithful husband
He died in the shower
and I was sad at first
but I realized he loved his life
2.7k · Nov 2013
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
2.6k · Apr 2013
Ice Cream Man
Harry J Baxter Apr 2013
Ice cream dreams
come to fruition
in a post adolescent summer timer
the pretty girls
walking up and down the block
where white short shorts
and tight band T shirts
show me you can smile baby,
just for me
like the old times
the before times
the times when life was just
a little bit simpler
I'm an ice cream man
nothing more
than a hell of a way
to cool off
2.6k · Jan 2014
Drug Induced Reaction
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
You aren't quite sure why this mediocre movie is so funny
but **** it Adam ******* is on form
look he's doing the thing with the voice
I want ice cream. Does anybody else really want ice cream?
my throat is made of desert sand
dessert* sand
that's funny
oh yeah OJ thanks
now pass me the rig. the song is changing and we need some new energy
I just want to chill and vibe
the ceiling fan hasn't been dusted in... oh I don't know, a year?
and just maybe it will come crashing down upon us
a black mess of ash, soot, and dust
and maybe that would be pretty funny
and maybe I'd geek out
and maybe I wouldn't
who cares? the next episode of Trailer Park Boys is about to start
and the sun is about ninety degrees from setting

Night now
and moonlight flows as adrenaline
rushing and flooding the parts of our brain
which go
"well **** this could be fun"
a recipe for a good night goes like this:
five cans of beer, pbr or bud light
maybe coors
some of those girly limearitas
because **** it they are yummy and get the job done
smoke break
make it three in a row
working on the chain gang of suicidals
okay now break open the good potion
whiskey *** gin ***** whatever sinks your boat
but make sure to consume in large damnation seeking swallows
and remember men only chase with high fives
who even high fives anymore?
now listen the **** up
because this next part is important
never. I repeat never smoke within three hours of the night
that is unless you want to get trapped in the party limbo
of hanging out in the kitchen, by the fridge
with the two only people you know in the entire joint
nobody want's to **** the guy eating pizza and playing with the cat in the corner
while you're there - be sure to drink as much free liquor as possible
oh me? I'm an exchange student from England. Show me what American college life is like? Sure I'll quote some Harry Potter. Sure I will take that shot. Oh your roommate is not home? Interesting.
because we all know that *** brings validation, and validation is the biggest drug of all
wake up the next morning and mumble something about a hangover and how much fun last night was
can I get your number? I'll text you my life story in emoticon format sometime.

Back in the filthy apartment
your bed stained with ash, sweat, and God knows what looks awfully inviting.
sleep an hour or two
get up feeling less ******
put on a *** of coffee
liquid ******* to set your veins running with productive fire
and then the shakes come
smoke a few cigarettes if you have any left
if not, the pick market is just a block away
and the sun is shining
okay now get into your bath robe and sweat pants
smoke yourself a fat GB
you deserve it
shake off the grime and pseudo-glory of night before
in a couple of hours
it's all going to start again
2.6k · Nov 2013
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
2.5k · Feb 2013
complaints and grievances
Harry J Baxter Feb 2013
I like to listen to people complain
about the things which
for some reason they take seriously
I like to make snide sarcastic remarks
which makes their problems seem
futile
just ******* and moaning
I find it amusing
I'm an ******* though.
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
It’s funny how despite different tastes
we all have a taste for music
my life has never felt complete
with a soundtrack. A beat
as a kid I was told not to fidget
told to just sit still
but my person was anything but chill
I have always had a thing for rhythm
I felt it in the way people speak
the way a husband sneaks around
keeping his wife trapped and meak
whether it is weak or strong
I could always hear that drumming song
It started with a rap song I heard
Hi My Name Is by eminem
but then again it had always been with me
it’s the reason time scares me
because in the beating tick of those two drum sticks
I could see the sound of life wasted
and it made me want to get wasted
black out drunk at fatal altitudes
when I was in middle school
we were angry
and disrespectfully spiteful
so we rocked long socks and listened to punk rock
then It was about being a bad guy
a real force not to be reckoned with
so we wore black Tshirts depicting violent scenes
and joined the screaming heavy metal mosh pit
a place to fit for all the kids who didn’t anywhere else
as I got older I put the heavy metal on the shelf
if I’m being honest it was all just a little silly
angsty teens with lofty dreams which they told us
were unattainable so we went out looking for cheap thrills
rather than develop any marketable skills
The first time I felt marketable
it gave me chills
The National in Richmond Virginia
an old theatre
converted into a sanctuary for the sanctimonious masses
to forget everything they learned in their classes
a place where kicked *****
wasn’t always a bad thing
I remember I was there
in the tenth grade
to see the Atmosphere show
because the lead singer - Slug
was my hero
his words enveloped me in a bear hug
which said you’re doing just fine kid
and in that crowd of tattoos and hipsters
and the ghetto kids wearing chips on their shoulders
I was high
but not on drugs
I was high on expressionism and the loftiness of ideas
The men behind the microphone
wearing a costume of stage lighting and swaggering egos
made me feel at home
for the first time in a while
they said things like God Loves Ugly
and Every Day Can’t be the Best Day
and the DJ’s worked the turntables
like a good lover brings their partner to ******
I didn’t know anybody else at the show
but don’t think for a minute that I was alone
we were all connected as brothers by bond and spilled blood
of our heros who were cut short before they could say the things
which we all needed to hear
We respect the story tellers
because it is how we come to terms with tougher aspects of life
and I was flying high on the dreams of kids just like me
saluting the scarred, worn, souls who had made it
who were making the path that we would one day walk
with the cut of their jive and the strength of their talk
***** of the walk
chalked outlines of the end of loneliness
They called us hop heads
and we’d reply
you’re ******* right we are
hip hop didn’t save my life
it just stopped me from taking me
for granted
I already wrote a poem about this night, but that was almost a year ago back when I really had no idea what I was doing with this poetry stuff. I love hip hop, It is a huge part of who I am today. "As a child Hip Hop made me read books, and Hip Hop made me wanna be a crook" - Slug of Atmosphere. If It wasn't for Hip Hop I would have never grown up to have confidence in what I say and how I say it. I know I have wrote a lot of poetry today and probably clogged your feed up (Thank you Adderall) but I really wanted to post this one. It is important to me and I hope you guys can at least relate. Probably won't be posting here for the rest of the day. Keep on scribbling guys
Harry J, Baxter
2.4k · Feb 2013
Jigsaw Puzzle
Harry J Baxter Feb 2013
Me and you
are broken
in different places
so that we
fit together
like a jigsaw puzzle

You so frenetic
so open
you are a hurricane
people always remember
when you pass through
venting your insecurities

Me so passive
not a care in the world
always out of touching distance
I am a rock
covered in moss
always numb

we fit together
like a jigsaw puzzle
and together
through our flaws
we make a picture
which is so beautiful
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
2.3k · Mar 2013
Sinking
Harry J Baxter Mar 2013
Pbr,
A Richmond hipster
Hip checking sobriety
And being hip in a social rivalry
Alcoholic tides to me
Nothing I can hide from me

****** American beer
Nothing but
Loathing and fear
Directed towards self
A reflection on the shelf
Left alone
With nobody else

Sinking
And sinking
And sinking
2.3k · Feb 2013
church
Harry J Baxter Feb 2013
The first time i went to church
I was terrified
It was an old church
and bore the cracks
and tombstones to show it
I was terrified because
I was convinced
that Jesus was trapped in the attic
chained to the rafters
malnourished and wild eyed
scruffy and emaciated
our lord and savior
a sunken eyed chattering skeleton
and I didn't know why
they kept him up there
feeding him our sins
while preaching their love
like scorpions
as the herd grows larger
2.3k · Mar 2014
Bawlers
Harry J Baxter Mar 2014
the jingle jangle of those things you dangle
from neck stretched thin with shiny things
call me a magpie
call me a baller
a shot caller
a hip hop drama starter
kicks so fresh they came from the produce section
this flash of blood diamond on my wrist
costs more than the home I don’t have
if I hit the switch I could make that *** drop…
got my obnoxiously huge candy painted cans on my head
so I can only hear the ads I want
and these threads reek with so much swag
the sweat, blood, and tears of little brown and yellow people
I couldn’t give a **** about
dropping three hundred on my mall haul
and they have the nerve to ask me for the rent
sounds system off the hook plasma on the wall
more **** than an abandoned lot
more thoughts forgot than cops in krispy kreme
with a water gun and ski mask for when times get hard
me and my friends are going to blow two months salary
on lap dances and ******* fantasies
“Aint that new track dope?”
“Yeah”
“You heard it?”
“Naw, but they were talking about it on world star”
this floatation device is going to be too heavy
and I am going to drown in all of this fly
fresh to death
2.3k · Feb 2013
masochist
Harry J Baxter Feb 2013
I'm a *******
I guess
but i always thought of me
as a human canvas
your blank slate
do I like the pain?
I've always had a high tolerance
but do I like it?
I guess not
but when it boils down to it
I'm happy
to be your punching bag
the dead air
which you fill with songs
older than time
these scars
are an ode
to your life
a beautiful poem
even the ones
which you can't see
I'm more like a billboard
than a man
but my ad space
will always be reserved
for you
Harry J Baxter Mar 2014
I downloaded my honest expression of feelings for you
but it came as a zip file
and I’m hardly tech savvy
so It sits in my hardrive with the other long lost files
like that first bike ride without training wheels
and christmas back before it all got so painfully awkward
two spaces above it
is the memory of being chased by angry farmers on tractors
and the file I edited last
was my self-image profile picture

I want you.
but sometimes wires don’t connect and the connection tends to
falter - lag
so I sent my mind to the pornographic district
where the lights flicker so red, like your favorite shade of lipstick
and for a few minutes there I committed biblical abomination
which is a fancy ******* way of saying I jacked off
before checking my local news site for the five day forecast
rain, rain, rain, rain, but a hint of sunshine

Woah! That’s a risky site! Are you sure you still want to continue?
not really. But last time I checked I never asked you for anything
so I’m buying the ingredients for happiness on ebay
two parts forty ounces of malt liquor
three parts resin stained smoking apparatus
two parts the wrong crowd
and ten parts stupid *** decisions
now I’m stumbling upon locked door keyholes
to see bootleg copies of your next summer blockbuster
they’re worth the ten dollars a pop - I’m just broke

I tried to upload a **** shaming video of you to youtube
but it was taking too **** long to process
so instead I tweeted all 140 of the characters I have played
and wrote you a bittersweet, scathing review
4.5 stars out of 5 - would not recommend
#FuckYou
I would still swipe right to your front door on silent nights
smelling like a bad rock and roll cliche
saying the same one liners over and over again

I listened to your swan song on spotify
and yeah, I’ll admit, It had me swaying
but that might just be the new “Twenty dollar a week diet”
I was forwarded online
so skype with my self-esteem
and IM me your holy of holies
and I’ll pretend whichever God you follow is up there somewhere
maybe I am just a post on your blog
maybe I’m just the virus causing you to curse at low speed internet
but I think you should leave your ISP a nasty voicemail
because this headspace is corrupted
and this computer is crashing towards an eternal shutdown
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
2.2k · Mar 2013
So you have a passion?
Harry J Baxter Mar 2013
A lot of the kids I went to school
were so **** sure of themselves
they would prattle on about
how macro economics was their passion
or how a major in accounting
is their dream
and there's nothing wrong with that
but would your would be passion
be your passion if you were homeless?
if you were terminal
I'm talking like
one year left on the clock
is your passion what you'd still be pursuing?
so you have a passion?
then go out and get it
2.1k · Jun 2013
denim sofa
Harry J Baxter Jun 2013
the sofa was soft
an indent in the middle
molded after a year of nothings
cigarette burns dot the denim
and the smell of stale beer
and cereal
and *****
come out like great dust clouds
shooting poison into the air
only to be hurried out the open window
by the constant whirring of the ceiling fan
a denim couch
a blue jean clad monster
a vampire of the modern world
greedily ******* the life
out of all unfortunate to fall prey to its trap
its dance of decadent seduction
and all it leaves of its victims
are loose change
and a few beer caps
deep in the valleys and cracks
of its ever hungry stomach
2.1k · Dec 2013
absolutely bonkers
Harry J Baxter Dec 2013
Knocking on wood is cheap
when a fire is close to the surface
so call me a ****
if I don't care for your problems
take a problem make a problem break a few hearts
I had an epiphany
a revelation of sorts
we all have two voices in our head
(at least two)
yin to yang
moon to sun
one of them is overly positive
a naive buffoon talking about lovely flower power
the other
a sarcastic monster
a real *******
chirping in with
"You took that poor fellows order down wrong
you should probably go ahead and **** yourself."
now I know ****** is wrong
but I've been trying to get these two chaps to ****
artificial mental insemination
they haven't quite come to terms with each other yet
but we're getting there
until then,
I guess you could call me
absolutely bonkers
2.0k · May 2013
In The Tower Of Babel
Harry J Baxter May 2013
Sitting in that cafe
was like sitting atop the tower of Babel
a cacophony of language
like a hurricane was going on all around him
the homeless black men
who spoke with their own jive and jib
he knew some of the language
but was far from fluent
there were the Arabian men
talking into blue tooths on their ears
or into cellphones
or arguing with each other
outside over cigarette after endless cigarette
nothing but harsh blunt sounds,
it was beautiful in a way
and there is the Russian couple
bombshell athletic blondes
it was hard to determine whether the relationship was
Mother and Daughter
or coach and athlete
they were seemingly
all business
broken with interspersed bouts of laughter
and their were the Asian boys and girls
coming from Korea or Japan or China, or some other place
talking fast and easy
gesticulating wildly with their hands
and of course their was English
thick and arrogant in its tone
it was a language for movers and shakers
money makers and deal breakers
it sounded nowhere near as special
as the other languages
And there was him
sitting silently in the corner of the cafe
his language
the chitter chatter of the keyboard
2.0k · Dec 2013
Marry me?
Harry J Baxter Dec 2013
Dear girl who works the security desk at my friend's dorm,
blonde hair or purple, you get me going
and I'm impatient
i don't go in for the dating game
so wouldya do me the service
of maybe
possibly
marrying me
me you and the blonde barista would be happy together
until death do us part
2.0k · Jan 2014
Smells like Hypocrisy
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
"No.
No you absolutely can not go to the store to buy some beer
you! you are too young
just stay inside and watch some TV
beer is for losers
no go and make your dad another G&T;
during the commercial break"

Feeling thirsty?
Want to be liked and respected?
want to be fun?
life of the party?
want to be swarmed by a slew of half naked vaginas with legs?
then get yourself a Bud

"Why can't you be happy with what you have?
you know we never had much growing up
and look at us now
a pair of reasonably comfortable adults
don't you want to be reasonably comfortable?
can't you just be yourself?"

Hey you! Yeah you!
what the hell are you just sitting there for?
It's a Friday night why aren't you out partying?
no invitation. ****. Wait I know why -
What's that you are wearing?
you don't know!?
you need some Polo
and some Nike, just do it
throw in some brooks brothers
don't you want people to think better of you
don't be THAT guy in cargo shorts
unless you like ******* alone at night
and here's some Beats by Dre headphones
so you can hear us better
Now I no it's pricey, but don't you want to be happy?
we've got your happiness right here
and it will only cost you
your parents' credit card

"We just don't know what's wrong with you
why are you in such a rut?
get out of bed, go and do something
we got you what you asked for
why can't you be satisfied?
a lenovo 2 in 1?
what the hell is a Lenovo 2 in 1?
A laptop and a tablet?
Why?
Oh, you just have to have one
well I'm sorry, but money has been tight
maybe you should get a job
your birthday is right around the corner..."

Look at this cool guy
Look at how great his life is
you want this. We know you do
what you'll need is some more swag
just a little bit
and some cough syrup, expensive liquor and some ***
plus you'll want some *******
how else can you party this hard?
Maybe get a gun, or a knife
no. Definitely get a gun. A big one
that way nobody will say anything to **** your buzz
carry that big stick and walk tall cool dude
oh yeah, here's a secret for you
keep it to yourself alright?
women really like being treated like ****
we told them to

"What's that?
a gun? For what?
oh so now you're going to **** yourself?
well I'm sorry but we don't do that in this family
you'll just have to be ground into submission like everybody else
what makes you so special, huh?
why do you get to punch out early
shut up, keep your head down, do your job, buy some ****, have a family
then get your kids started with all the **** you buy.
brand name baby clothes and such.
now be a good boy
and pay your taxes
but shush, the TV is on"
Harry J Baxter Jun 2014
Horatio Alger is whispering his stories in my sleeping ear
painting me as a lowly street urchin
who conquers adversities and moral wildernesses
with only my wit, determination, and guts
and he is painting me as a phoenix of the new world
rising from ashes of banality and
the naturalized familial trappings of my past
a dirt road in the socioeconomic desert
carved out with care by the hands of forefathers I will never know
but Mr. Alger died a long while ago
and the sun inevitably rises
shattering the stained glass story of my rags turned riches
now the big men upstairs
jot me down as numbers on a chart
of consumption trends of millennials
Go to college
they say
make something of yourself
they say
you are all too entitled
they say
What went wrong
they say without a hint of contradiction
I am not equipped to say if the story of humanity
is a cycle or a downwards spiral
I am not equipped to say
that it is the job of every generation
to ensure that they clear the debris
from the path of their progeny
but I say it anyway
everybody want’s a trophy
because we were raised to believe that
everybody deserves a trophy
In the same breath they expect us
to take the puritanical mantle of the breadwinner
the frayed saddle of the noble western outlaw
the lethally honed sword of the entrepreneur
the martyr making cross of the socially conscious family man
and then wonder why we so willingly
give ourselves over to the currents
of apathy and passivity and masochistic narcissism
giving us guns and bullets with no idea how to shoot them
so instead we turn them into sculptures of modern art
and scream to the empty heavens
for just a hint of recognition
I can’t decide if history will forget us
or memorize the lyrics of our collective heart beats
but I have decided
to wake up from my American Dream
have decided
to forge my own reality
So I’m writing this paper on the American Dream. And so far what I’ve gathered is that people have woken up from the American Dream. Most people seem to think that the American Dream has lost its foothold in the ethos of western society. And for the people who do not think that, The American Dream is used as a tool of self-identification which changes definition from person to person. In other words, we are not presented with a generalized path to success from our overarching culture. But what does that mean for our generation? We are often criticized as being the lazy entitled generation where everybody gets a trophy. A generation of cry babies in need of validation. I can’t speak to the truth of this label, but I can state with confidence that it is up to the previous generation to lay a foundation which facilitates success for us. This has not happened. What we are left with is a generation of young men and women caught in a social limbo with no grasp of who we are and where we fit into our society. We are, as Palahniuk's famous rebel Tyler Durden said, “The middle children of history.” This is a dangerous trend for us to be embarking on. More and more I see people taking to the internet through blogs, start-ups, and…..submitting artistic or creative endeavors. We are screaming out to be noticed and saved from a life of banal apathy and office drudgery. But some people lose in society. They become janitors and garbage men. They sacrifice success for family and security. We are all expecting a trophy and we don’t all deserve one. I’m hoping that If I get my thoughts down in a creative format, then I’ll be able to have a better understanding of how I wish to organize my paper. If you live in North America, and are in the age range of 18-25 I would really appreciate if you could also take a couple of minutes to answer a ten question survey. http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/9KZVN8B
2.0k · Dec 2013
A drunk, angry poem
Harry J Baxter Dec 2013
You can tell people
Everything that is right
And still they look to you
Blank bovine stares.
I'm at a crossroad
A true love affair with humanity
A violent, dangerous hatred of human beings
We live in a country
Where the people who say the wrong things
Are either dead or silenced
Gone are the days of freedom of speech
Gone are the days of personality
Privacy stripped away
Every person clad with phones
A reason not to act

**** **** ***** ****** ****
These words weigh heavy
Regardless of context
Gone are the days of progression.
This is not a poem
This is a rant.
If you don't like these words
Then go **** yourself
You can choose what you read
People too concerned with people
While out government does it's best to eradicate
The brown skinned low lives of Gomorrah
As if we have any ******* right
To dictate the movements of humans,

Say no to orders,
You are not the car being driven
You are the driver
This poemish thing
Has gotten out of hand
Just don't let the worthless mother *******
Tell you you're wrong
Wrong doesn't exist
Speak freely
The rest is just noise
2.0k · Apr 2013
Only tourists look up
Harry J Baxter Apr 2013
I met an old man today
I was trying to write in the sun
and was sitting downwind from him
and judgung by the smell
I thought he may have soiled himself
He was sitting with his wife
and they had about fifteen teeth between them
he heard me speak
and asked me If I was from England
yeah, I moved here seven years ago
we're from New York
that's cool, I've always wanted to go
Oh you have to,
There's no city like it in the world
So why are you in Richmond?
New York Is too **** expensive
I remember one time
I was held up by a .38
the poor ******* didn't know
I only had 75 cents in my pocket
Let me give you some advice, kid
If you ever go to New York
Never look up
only tourists look up
you gotta keep on looking forward
oh yeah
and if you have a ***** pack around your waist
and a camera around your neck
you might just get your *** kicked
oh and if you ever get lost In New York
all you gotta do is ask a mailman
they're like the kings of the city
they know everything
I wished him a nice day
told him It had been a pleasure talking to him
and walked home
only looking forward
because I'm no tourist
2.0k · Jul 2014
Hollywood (Cemetery)
Harry J Baxter Jul 2014
take a walk to air out my skull
the summer on a week long break
no sweat forming on the brow
the cemetery almost empty
on this Saturday Morning
graves, mausoleums, and monuments
as far as the horizon will carry them
all contained by the twisting limbs
of great ancient trees
I am worrying about things
like the rent and the electricity bill
and the milk and sugar
azucar y leche
and how many cigarettes I have been smoking
these men and women
will never be alive again
to worry about such silly things
victims of the civil war
brother against brother
victims of the passing of time
breath against breath
one and all
strolling down riverwalk ave
the old train tracks running along
the spine of the James
always flowing
streaming
as birds dip in and out of the banks
and the shin high grass sways
with the music of pleasant mornings
and see a family
small children running up the grass hills
only to sprint back down at double speed
not a moment spent out of breath
and I think back to that time
when we found a quiet corner
and let the lighter light up a bowl or two
for the dead homies
and how much we laughed when one of us fell
and how much we gasped
when we saw the small tent village
of homeless people living in the wooded outskirts
their clotheslines bare in the gentle breeze
How insane it is
that we should all
walk through this park
the scent of what life promised us
fresh in the air
as we lazily stroll
through a vast field of corpses
immortalized through monumental history
Went on a walk this morning and so did my imagination
2.0k · Mar 2013
Don't Try
Harry J Baxter Mar 2013
Don't try
a wise old man told me that from his grave
well **** old man
that works for me
i have been a master at not trying
since I failed out of Algebra in the ninth grade
because people are at their prettiest
when what they're doing
bursts forth from them
its the same as how
a pair of fake *****
will never match up to their natural counterparts,
So stop trying to be something you're not
because somebody once told you to
instead don't try
until you find something
where you don't have to
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