I've been around long enough to know what happens when.
And unfortunately I have no problem remembering now and then.
So with that being said I think it's best that I should be alone.
It is in me being me for which I must atone.
I was eating this peach while putting together a pump and forgotten I'd already lit a burner when I said "***** it, I'm dead inside anyway" so I took a hit and started thinking about you in that time and me in that place and as soon as I finished that peach it dawned on me.
It wasn't that I wasn't good enough for you.
It's that I'm still not good enough for me.
So I went ahead and settled on the Apricot Kush because it keeps me from thinking about whether or not I made a mistake when I said "Can I get the salmon with a baked potato?" I mean I could have eaten my twin in the womb, I honestly don't remember her name Ellen I think anyway.
**** the night, **** the moon, **** everything that ends too soon.
I never got the chance to........
There was this light.
Just a bulb hanging from.
It'd sway sometimes.
I don't know how.
As if it were searching the room for something it'd lost.
I used to think maybe there was a melody to it.
Or a reason.
We're just, here.
Here I’m just floating by.
Jacked up on mozzarella sticks, whiskey, and static electricity.
I stopped there for the time it takes for a German Shepard to consume a Shepard’s pie.
And I waited.
The sun went down as it is want to do.
But here’s the thing.
Ever since I don’t have Vera to Stand By Me.
The sun never came back.
This poem is about my cat. Her nickname was Vera and she liked it when I sang Stand By Me to her. You’d think it might be about my German Shepard. But I don’t have one of those. So you’d be foolish to assume that.
To care, or not
Caring elicits emotion
Emotions arrive in waves
Waves bring turbulence
Upsetting the quo
better for both of us
That I don't care
I decided to see just how important I was to those around me.
So I wandered off.
To see if anyone would come looking for me.
I'm not important.
I get a kick out of asking you questions.
It’s fun to watch you answer them.
Because you want to answer honestly.
And I’m smiling.
Because neither my questions nor your answers, matter.
It’s like asking space how far it goes.
It/you could lie to me.
It’s not like I’m ever going to know the truth.
Well I jacked her up to find that everything’s subjective.
I fingered, felt, and flicked that thing like it was a prime directive.
To get some new perspective I rolled her on her side.
It doesn’t matter where I go I’m still there so there is no where to hide.
Maybe we’re just absurdist I thought as I slid my stick within.
Perhaps it’s all just chaos, and there’s no purpose in the end.
I slowly removed her top and I put myself between her.
We tried a lil here or there and found the grass no greener.
We laughed and cursed and cried a lot because ignorance is bliss.
And as my flaccid self fell out of her I would not be remiss.
To say I pondered the inequities and tried to do my best.
Sweaty, sullen, and utterly disgusted we lied there breast to breast.
I tried **** near everything though now my heart’s departed.
so I’m leaving my Jeep here for now, maybe you can get it started.
In line with the whole
“life is naught but a computer simulation, the matrix is real, there is no spoon” theory.
How do I know that , while I am not special in any meaningful way, I’m not a flawed line of code and you are a patch formulated to correct my supposed flaw in order to support the overall functionability of the software needed to run this particular aspect of the matrix?
So based on this revelation, your sky blue nail polish, and the fact I’m 90% sure I banged your mom in the mop closet of an Arby’s while huffing ammonia fumes. I don’t think we should get married, today.
I take my morning walk.
Through tunnels of bleached trees. Over the remains of names long forgotten by those who promised never to forget them.
I close my eyes.
To check on the multi car pile up of words in the back of my mind. A twisted burning wreckage of things left unsaid, things I’d like to say, and things I wish I didn’t know.
It’s been going on for so long the death toll of ideas is immeasurable.
There’s nothing to do now but listen to their screams.
The wisteria hung like celestial waterfalls against a backdrop of splattered light. As if the sun had spilt paint across the horizon on it's way out of that day. I saw you in hues of blue standing in the rain. Strands of burnt chestnut hair clung to your cheeks like the blind hands of night had just found the most beautiful thing it'd ever touched. The moon paused and everything I once coveted fell out of thought. I saw fireflies, like fallen stars pleading their case to the heavens, flash in and out of the garden. I held this moment like my last breath for fear the sound of my sigh would break the dream.
I never knew you, I never met you, I never saw you.
I never heard you, I never touched you, I never felt you.
And yet, somehow.
I’ll never forget you.
I’ve been mired in an existential crisis for so long now, I don’t trust jelly.
It just doesn’t look right.
Bear with me here. (Barry the bubbly brown bear. See what I did there?)
What if, jelly disproves the life is a computer simulation theory?
Why would a sentient machine running a computer program to simulate life write jelly into the programming?
It wouldn’t, right?
So now that I’ve nixed that theory for y’all.
What else ya got?
I got grass all over my lil white rug. So I rolled it up like you would a body. Then I set it on fire and took a deep breath.
I lifted the eyelids of my house to see if the world had changed. I saw the coyote that killed my friend and not much else.
Another Saturday Night.
Two flames aloft in the darkness dance to a song I used to love and I need more ice if I'm to ever see through this amber haze.
I've been cold for so long you'd think I'd be laughing by now.
It's a solidifying existence here.
I made us each a plate. One has cyanide, the other morphine. It's a win win.
there are only three tangibles you need to survive
food, water, shelter.
and I mean everything else,
some might be afforded you.
some you’ll have to work for.
some you’ll have to fight for.
whether or not they’re worth it,
is entirely up to you.
because their only worth, is dependent on the value you place on them.
I can’t move beyond the nothing.
I’m not upset about there being nothing.
Just wishing I could move past it.
For a while, I was envious of others because I figured they’d moved beyond the nothing.
Turns out, they never reached the nothing.
So now I stand guard.
A sentry pacing back and forth in front of these gates.
“Nay! Turn! ‘Tis not the place for you here! Go over there. It’s better.”
The idea of seeing someone else here terrifies me.
I savor those spaces between those moments when I’m not thinking of you.
I don’t think it’s a linear thing.
There’s no beginning and as of right now
From my perspective, no end.
I said “I love you”
To someone else
Loss is just someone who comes around from time to time.
I heard that “sigh” before.
I was here.
And I’m back.
I know because I’m tired.
Of knowing what you’re going to say before you say it.
I’ll be honest with you.
I’m halfway through this movie.
And I’m done explaining it to you.
You can try to catch up if you think you can.
And that’d be swell.
Just don’t look to me for answers.
Like I said, I’m halfway through this movie.
And I still have no idea what it’s about.
I had this thought while taking a dump and no that’s not at all relevant.
Just thought you should know how brilliant I am cause I was the one smelling it.
If I should ever find myself stranded on an island that’s deserted.
My message in a bottle will probably be perverted.
To increase my chances at getting rescued I’d offer incentives in the sand.
“***** native ******* here but only if you land!”
Now avert your eyes cause this is where my genius comes shining through.
Use driftwood for your signal fire cause that **** be burning blue.
It’s because driftwood is so high in salt and you can find it on the shore.
Then all you need is a lil *** and some slutty island *****.
So next time your *** is stranded on some loathsome desert isle.
You can think about my poem and hopefully you’ll smile.
Until your ***** and boiled by some disenchanted and riddled with chlymidia indigenous forgotten tribe of saggy ***** *******.
I thought I'd write you a poem. It's all I've really got. A pen, some paper, and a well of blackened snot.
At first I thought about you, though you know who you are. So that would be redundant. I guess I'll raise the bar.
A sullen somber December morning. A glass filled up with whiskey. A pack of butts and this poem in case that you would miss me.
Sweaty thighs, forgotten lies, and these things we still hold onto. Tattered sleeves, worn out knees, and rats ******* fondue.
These are the things I think about when at my own devices. Avoiding **** that could otherwise turn into a crisis.
Well I'm done. I gotta run. Truth is I'm out of passion.
Perhaps I'll come around again when apathy's in fashion.
“It’s a trap!” The king had yelled from across the checkered field.
And as he watched his bishops fall, he begged the knight to yield.
“Tarry **!” The knight cried out as he fell the opposing rook.
He sheathed his blade and pierced its shoulder with a sterling silver hook.
He looked upon the queen a yonder and mounted his mighty steed.
“I’m bringing you your rook you ***** so that you may watch him bleed!”
A pawn rushed forth upon the field to try and sway the knight.
Though she was cut upon the throat, ‘‘twas not her day to fight.
Another rook from behind the knight stepped forth to guard the row.
He looked upon the king at last and dared his weakened foe.
Knights, bishops, pawns, and rooks waltzed amongst the dead.
Each one had made a solemn vow to bring back a royal head.
And when the dust had settled upon the blood soaked ground.
The knight had forked the queen and king and uttered not a sound.
The queen looked on in horror as her king just lowered his head.
And before the king could say a prayer his queen would fall down dead.
There was no point in going on for further loss of life.
The king dropped down to his knee to end this day of strife.
I’m sitting in this huge theater.
Looking at this enormous picture.
It’s so big you’d think you were looking at the past, the present, and the future all at once.
You don’t need a ticket.
You can just come in and sit down.
I’d love to talk to you about it.
I know you won’t.
I’ve been here for a long time.
Nobody ever sits down.
I guess they don’t see it.
I’d like to think there’s a time and place that suits both you and I.
Where we sip tea in a lil cafe and watch the angels die.
It’s sorta the end but not for us because we’re both just passing through.
You’re almost at the edge of me and I halfway to you.
Tipping celestial windmills while laughing at illusions.
Shooting the fools in mid air as they jump to their conclusions.
I kinda hope that they ask me what I’d like to do.
And honestly I wouldn’t care just so long as it’s with you.
Back in the day, oh I’d say about 1952.
I remember it well, as time would tell, they’d just invented the left shoe.
Me and Pa had gone a huntin, fer at least sumtin, that mama could put in the ***.
We’d done eatin every inch of that pig includin what Pa called the knot.
Pa’d just told me that he was also my brother and Ma was my first cousin too.
A **** ran by him, I shot off his limb, and now he needs a right shoe.
I won’t remember writing this.
And it’s funny.
Because I can remember with excruciating accuity everything I know about the person that inspired ninety percent of everything I’ve written.
You can quote my own words back to me minutes after I’ve penned them.
I won’t recognize them.
I can sit down at a bar and write a poem on a napkin about the girl three seats down on a whim.
And not remember a word of it or her probably.
But ****** if it wouldn’t take a lobotomy, I’ll never forget Colibri.
We're the keepers of each other’s past.
Holders of memories, long lost or stranded.
I can say that I knew you when.
That’s to say I knew you then.
Though you’re not that person anymore.
You’re not the one I knew before.
Tomorrow again you’ll be anew.
What are you going to do with you?
Pride lies slain and strewn.
Splayed out before the Morning Star.
Eviscerated Appreciation still drips from the rafters.
Ego is a writhing dance floor for the flames that eat as they sway.
Envy, Admiration, and Love cower like beaten dogs.
And Hope. She fought well.
Now she dares not leave the well.
So what’s left?
They’re all dead or in hiding.
Can I know now why I’m here?
Can I smoke in here?
I imagine it’s like closing your eyes to the sun on a cool November morning.
The sun places a kiss on your eyelids and you fracture a smile.
Everything fades to black.
You see fireflies and fireworks.
You want to wrap your arms around it.
And hold it till the moon comes up.
Just so you can tell her all about it.
There’s nothing here.
I’m just trying to save you a trip.
Become a hedonist, a pacifist, a sardonic mop.
Just don’t bother going any further than where you are now.
I’ll send you a pic.
Don’t bother thanking me.
It’s nothing, really.
One thing it seems a lot of people can agree on is just how much we hate people.
Why? Well I'm sure you already know the answer. But just incase you happen to be a cocker spaniel that's just become hyper intelligent.
It's because we're horrible.
We will inevitably do something terrible.
Singularly or collectively, it is an inevitability.
It'll be for selfish reasons no doubt.
If I were to list off reasons.
You might assume that I was victimized in a way evident in said list.
But I won't. I can't.
Because I'm that cocker spaniel.
P.S. Y'all ****.
We spend our lives emotionally counting coup on one another.
Hoping to get away unscathed.
The trick I discovered.
Is to slit the throat of everything inside that they could touch.
Don’t move the carcasses.
Leave them as a reminder of what could be, and what was.
I don't know about you.
But I've had enough of me today.
I'm going to go stand in the rain and laugh myself to sleep.
I don't know about you.
But I've had enough of me today.
I'm going to go stand in the rain and laugh myself to sleep.
Who were you?
Before all this happened.
Before that happened.
Would we had gone for each others throat?
Or would our hands just meet in the middle?
Perhaps indifference would rule the day.
We're unfinished people at the moment.
So who knows what's to become of us.
Or who we are to be.
I'll tell you this regardless.
I feel very fortunate to know you now.
And I'd be very grateful, if I could say I know you when.
we're as unaware of the before as we are the after.
so, it's not illogical to assume that this is it.
this commercial break of an existence in the ongoing celestial clusterfuck that is the universe/life.
so we witlessly scramble about
sentient but delusional.
hooked on euphoria, looking to extend the feeling for as long as possible
"others have done it, why can't i".
that they move about us.
every moment, every feeling
an illusion just passing through.
some, few, illusions stay.
I don’t feel you anymore.
there was a halo around the moon and stars.
With your feet in my lap.
Cigarette smoke like moments disappeared into the folds between night and day.
You’d sometimes reach out for me.
It was like being noticed by the universe.
You circumvented my illusions.
And for a brief moment.
I won’t walk to the edges of the world for you.
Not because I don’t love you.
But because I know you won’t be here when I get back.
Lie to me
Tell me the truth
I wasn’t there
I wouldn’t know the difference either way
It doesn’t really matter
I was walking across the night sky.
Wading through a sea of fire and gold.
My eyes down as I'm want to do.
I looked up for a moment and immediately thought of you.
I didn't mean for that to rhyme.
I saw this singular leaf suspended by a single strained of web.
Where others were falling.
Here was this leaf seemingly levitating.
How fortunate am I to see this.
I've never seen it before and I'll likely never see it again.
Of all the things happening.
It was just myself and this moment of wonder.
So I thought of you.
And how rare you are.
Then I smiled to myself.
Because I know you.
I never saw myself in your eyes.
Perhaps it was because you were looking through me.
At the setting sun.
The falling snow.
Or was it someplace you'd yet to see?
A distant galaxy.
Where you could finally shed away the preconceptions.
Swimming in a sea of starlight.
It's not where I found you.
It's not where I left you.
I hope you find it.
I don't need to be here.
If you want to know me.
Just go read everything I've ever written.
You'll figure out who I was.
Don't bother reading between the lines.
I'm not there.
I'm staring into the sun.
Between the "I" and the .
If y’all could give me control
Of time and space
I promise to only fold it one time
I swear I won’t mess it up
It’s just that
I’ve been hurting a lot lately
And if I could just hold her again
The moonlight creeps through my garden like a white tiger on the hunt.
It caresses the bench where you used to sit.
Come morning these trees will burst into flames of crimson, sunflower, and oranges.
I’d like to be able to imagine you there and when.
Add it to the list of things I’d like.
My pen is a wee bit cold, so I don’t think that I have long.
And since I can’t write you a poem,
I thought you might fancy a song.
It’s about a girl born with no hands and the boy she couldn’t hold.
The boy was deaf and blind, it’s just how the story’s told.
She’d wrap her arms around him, and thump his back with her stubs.
He’d screech in terror and find a way to run into some shrubs.
Sometimes you’d see him feeding her at the ice cream shoppe.
Just jabbing her face with a spoon while she cried and screamed “just stop”.
For Christmas he bought her gloves and she got him a dog.
It fell asleep around the fire and he mistook it for a log.
What baffled a lot of folks, is that their names were Betty and Stan.
For the love a soft and supple goat, Betty was the man.
Word has it they got married, and Stan well she said their vows.
And Betty he just stood there, spouting random howls.
They live out in the woods now, their feetless kids play there in the mud.
When you try to talk to them, they just stare out into space and chew on their cud.
If I have no beliefs. No faith. Then I only have thoughts. Thoughts manufactured within a vessel of questionable integrity.
My understanding of reality is solely dependent on my minds interpretation of the world through external stimuli.
I don’t quite trust my minds interpretations.
Sometimes I’m convinced that it has no idea what it’s doing and that it’s just making up **** as it goes along.
Before you ask me if I love you.
You should know that I’m still not entirely convinced you’re not who or what you say you are.
You could just be a figment of my imagination.
Neither one of us can prove our existence to the other.
What do I say?
Are you still there?
In the mist, where I left you.
Under a crumbling sky.
We were alone
And I couldn't understand why you were looking at me.
Wisps of fog march passed us.
Like an undead army from an ancient battle.
You sounded more frustrated than anything.
So I left you there.
I still think about you.
On those dewy mornings.
As the sun breaks over the trees and sets the world on fire.
I'll smile to myself
"the **** was I thinking?"
Let's pretend it never ends and instead goes on like this forever. That reality bends life suspends and we never again say never.
We could sit and watch the stars go out and just eat caramel.
Tickle your *** with a blade of grass and see what time would tell.
Ponder the moment that happened before and see who laughs out first.
Drink all the whiskey in Ireland if only to quench our thirst.
Dance with the waves though not with the bears but under an autumn moon.
And never or ever say never again because never would just be too soon.
Look, I'm going to be honest with you.
I'm not sure what's going on.
Reality and I aren't that close,
we just chat out on the lawn.
There's this cat out there
existing in two opposing states.
And I just learned the other day
that dolphins *******.
I only bang the crazy ones
cause they're the only ones that let me
Though I'd eat some glass to meet the ***
of anyone to get me.
I'm not even sure I think,
so don't even I know I am.
Then again if I were,
would I even give a ****.
You see where the problem lies,
it's that I'm everywhere.
While at the very same time,
I'm never anywhere.
I guess I'm like that cat.
If you take away all my lamps.
Well I'd be delighted.
then there was that time you needed help
you reached out from the dark
and couldn’t find my hand
because it wasn’t there
my absence wasn’t apathy
it’s just that I can’t presume to think
that it’s my hand you wanted to find