Remembering my **** smelling like saliva
(You caved)

Exploration, cave-diving
(And dealing with the liquid)

Moans, Groans, and don't-let-me-go-homes
(Grab at something)

Once, twice, three times priority
(And vulgarity strikes at the heel of the prim and proper)

Your face is one I'll remember
(Travel with me, and let's *** in different cities)

Art work in pencil
Peach shadows on the outline of everything
Jaw lines, good times
Trees in the park
Dinosaur tracks and Fedex Fax

Librarians don't do their job

I was talking about shadows
Then my mind was robbed

A knife in the back of the collective man
Let's start with something drastic

Fire for fire
Dear fireman
Lit a match to find
the matchstick

I've been slowly
Draining my own
Life
What I do might surprise you

I know where you are
Dear prey
I know

I know where you are
Dear, pray
I know

Wordplay and associates
Let's make a collective
Trying hard to sound
Indulgent
Let's be protective

Plastic linings
and glad tidings
Keep away the kids

Pills from Docs
and bills from Crocs
We're living in the skids

******* away our youth in Jack
Let's pour another round

I want to be the man you run to
The man you're glad you found

Panic attacks in swift motion
Showing looks of anguish
Curled up on beds with ruffled sheets
Water in hand,
Matching the color of tears
On your face

Friends with little forethought
Playing cards with
******* who like their liquor
Selfishness abounds for children
Without responsibilities

"Let's get chronic,
I know a dealer."
"Come to the house with us,
the party's only beginning."

I may be a fly on the wall,
And I may be silent,
But know the thoughts in my mind
Are scathing.

Fly me
Freakin'
Throw me into the sky
Let me drift on the winds
Like a lofty kite

Dr. Do-No-Wrong
Stop touching my inappropriates

I'm sick of the Ferry
The rocking of the boat
Makes the water seems soothing

Explosions?
Destruction
Fallacy

Erectile disfunction
Welcome to
*Unsatisfactory

"What do you think my brain is made for
Is it just a container for the mind?
That big grey matter."

Lyricism in abundance
Dear Ocean,
Continue your Orange
Haze

Flipping Channel
in Sierra Leone
Only to Start
Thinking About You

Sweet Life is all but in our grasp
We're Super Rich Kids but this isn't Just Money
Pyramids to hold our possessions
We should make sure we use Fertilizer
On the lawn before we go

Crack Rock dear Pilot Jones
Let's get Lost until we see
White skies and Monks
Following a Bad Religion

Forrest Gump will meet
Us at the End
Tell us what life is, Frank,
One more time.

Who's up for a downer of a catastrophe?
I left the tweets to the birds
My manager would hang me

"There's subtle meanings here,"
Says the caveman demeaning the women of the time,
"I think this will go on for ages."

Flying effervescent
Towards the lofty sun
Where "good poetry" sets

I'm the chainsaw to a wordsmith.
I'm the revolver to the head of the writer.

I'm textual suicide.
I know because of my sparing use of periods
Both in pieces and in grammatical ways.

Sunny days.
There's a time and a place
for all of them
But that's neither here nor there.

Asked if I could make music out of the words I so listfully splatter onto a cybernetic page, as if what I said had any meaning at all, and as if all emotion I threw out stuck to anything.
Deprecation
Defecation
Asphyxiation

I get choked up by my own ****.

While there's no ink on any paper,
No clicking of keys to satisfy
the hunger of a page
My mind holds the ink and the clacking
Typing up inaccuracies
Drawing conclusions

Writing a fearful poem
Drenched in black ink and woe.

I wish it would rain on my face more often
Allowing the water to wash my pores
And add more dirt to the face of a ***** child

I wish I could fall in the ocean
Off of a cliff (I hate heights)
But oh what a beauty that picture that would be

Jump into the lady that is the sea
And allow her to embrace me
A storm would embrace my body
As I fell
Plummeted towards inevitability
I don't even have to die
That's not necessarily the point

Embrace
Love
Care
While she may not offer everything
She offers a few
The Ocean

I could wash up on the sands
The cruel lands would dry me of all traces of her
And I'd be left staring at once was, rather than being in the thick of it
There would be times where I'd long for her touch
When I'd wash my hands
Take showers
Baths
Pools would be terrible

All imitating, taking a bit of what she was
And leaving me with a longing that would be immeasurable
Like her breadth and depth
Though science could always ruin it for me, I suppose
They tend to dry the world of wonder, or spark it
(Glass half empty/half full mentalities)

I would miss her heart
And how it beat as waves crashed
And when it rained, I'd remember the day
Where her and I became one
She welcomed me with embrace
The ocean and I

I’d like to try that **** where I don’t rhyme
I say to the willow tree as I sit beside her

I like men who are creative
This is me trying to be THAT guy
Honestly, though, I don’t think it’s working

I’m stuck inside most days
It used to be self-inflicted
But it’s paid, now… is that the same?

Like a grandfather clock
I’m passing back and forth on this ever
Wavering face of feelings marked as numbers

Like ******* clockwork, I can almost time my feelings
There’s the norm for you.
Have I scared you away yet?

Hell, I don’t think you’d ever say honestly.
I could always be wrong though…
But will you look at me the same?

I can’t seem to be a man in either respect.
I don’t **** ******* and punch *****
But I don’t give up myself and hang on sticks.

I don’t know where I am
And that last stanza left a ******* taste
Than the aftertaste of lemon shanty.

Yeah, that ******.

"I've decided to turn this around"
Said the captain to the crew
"I realize now, that what I sought was
Immolation. It's been a week, now, and
we've been sailing ever further into oblivion."

"No one's said otherwise; however, I knew
the thoughts, 'We shall all die; these clouds are
getting darker by the moment.' I understand;
and I'm sorry. From this moment forward, there
will be a focus on the bluer hue of the sky,
The sunlight as it shines off of the wetted feathers
of the birds that have only recently taken flight."

"I'm making this an order: we shall turn back now.
There was no treasure where we set to sail, no hidden
secrets. The only thing that awaited us was death
and its keeper."

She held that note tighter than she'd held him;
it was all she had left.

I have 116 poems to read
And even fewer cares to give
I'm thinking less than 10
But greater than 9

In a sense, this is to say I'm sorry
I'll probably never read you
Don't take this the wrong way
I hardly remember to get on to write.
Maybe someday, when everything chills down
I'll be able to spend my day burning a cigar
Drinking in all your beautiful words,
Your wonderful idiosyncrasies
And every little feeling you leave behind with every single letter you type

But listen, as of now,
I'm swamped
Life is coming at me from all sides,
and if I weren't to make an excuse: I just don't give it enough time.
Take this community, and love me?
Actually do what you want, I'm not your boss.
Just know that I'm sorry for not paying attention
You're not a red-headed step-child
You're the family that lives far away
I don't call them either.

Humility comes with self-loathing
You don't want to walk in my shoes

Let's beat the messenger
Until he or she is black and blue

Equal rights means equal fights
Said the Quarter to the Spoon
Set the heat to highest degree
And I'm sure you'll be here soon

Whistling like the wind through canyons
These men on bars ought do
Fine women, fine dining
Are not in-line for you

Staring at a plate
Far too full for my hunger
Go away, you glutted fool
I desire you, no longer

A lover's kiss,
A gentle touch
Things I do not feel
Unknowing
Confused thoughts
Are things that are too real.

I wish my hands were rockets
So I could see the show
Watching them blast off, whe'er they go

I don't really want them anymore
So to them I wave adieu
Well, I would if I had hands...
Instead I flop arms
Like a seal waiting for a meal at your local circus

I pitch tents
And people sometimes visit (read: never)
but a few have wanted to see the show
And see me bark
They probly honk the horn better than I

In the end of the day I pray for a sickness to leave my body
And to not struggle anymore
But I don't think that's really the point
I think it's a story about rising above...
I'm still at the ocean floor, though
And there's a long way up

but away from the dreary, let's focus on cheery
As I carve pumpkins in the shape of silence
There's nothing in April for the stuff in October
So I fold over a game of poker
For another month or two
Pour me a drink, Scottie!
A fifth of ***, and a shot o' her
Wondering eyes cut ties to those morals we hold most dear
None of you are mine, and I have little right to peer over as I do
But oh, do I
Wondering eyes are best plucked out by Ravens
Like that's so Edgar Allen Poe
Half Black females can squander careers... or blame
it on the *****... or disney channel
Spring Break, *******

Looks small
Such piercing words
Such lack of care

Slamming letters onto paper
This is macaroni art for adults

Forgive me for being away,
I haven't stopped, you know
I've just become selective
Not that it'll show

I still write first-drafts
And pass them off as final

I'll show you some real stuff
This is cd vs. vinyl

You scratch my back,
I'll scratch my back.
Funny thing about my **** is it's on my front
Would you rather?
I would lather

I need to shave
Worse than shearing sheep
Norelco needs to hook me up proper

A question, furious cousin.
Do not allow ignorance
My son and daughter

Do not allow your mind
To become the cannon fodder

Ignorance is bliss
Can that be said for Divine?

Take my two cents
There is left but a dime

The broken bloodied hand
Of yesterday’s time

Is left severed and withered
In the dirt next to
A coal mine

We settle for complexity
Because fighting is beyond me

Fighting for simplicity
Seems but a mess to me

Cavemen
Live better
We men
We live longer.

I do the best with what I have
But I wonder if that’s enough
A call to sin greater than I can handle
I punish myself with misery

My own self-loathing,
The devil and I discuss
God desires so badly to speak to me
But I’m in the middle of a conversation!

Like a parent to a child
I talk down to God
Like the mouths of babes
Are not worth listening to

I know better
I do
I swear
I made four lines starting with “I” right there

I said St. Francis’s prayer without any help
My brain is better than I thought
God grant me grace and serenity
Fly me away from the Reavers

We quarrel like dogs
I know, I've watched them
The difference:
They're playing

Shine for me,
You copper piece of...
Wait what?
Oh, bronze!
So, this one won't turn green?
Well that's great.
But...
Why is he ******* his horse?
To win the war?
That doesn't make any sense.
***** me?
Nah, ***** YOU!
You and these COPPER statues.

I await a slip of paper
Foretelling of my death
I await a slip of paper,
For I've not received it yet.

I've staved my curiosity,
Like a tiger in a cage
However, eventually
Tigers want to eat,
To hunt,
To be satiated
And so does my curiosity.

Though morbid,
Though vague,
I wish to know my end
By fire,
By age,
By disease
or by vehicle?

Vague enough to open questions,
Concrete enough to give me something
I want to know
How I'll die.

The reaper with his crystal ball
Stares
With no eyes
From the faded machine
A hand reaching from the coin
Slot
Reaching to shake mine
"Congratulations, you've paid
the piper, child."
The reaper says,
But only in my day dreams

I want to know my death,
Wow, this takes forever,
I've paid the toll,
I've done what's necessary!
Why is there no paper in my hand!

Wait, I hear printing!
My heart, is sprinting in my chest!
Oh dear heaven above!
I get to know my death, God!
You can't hide it from me forever!

The slip of paper finishes through the machine
Printed, it spits out at me.
I take it, gingerly, excited all the while
To know my death, oh death machine,
Will make me smile.
I stare at it, giving great diligence
To find that I'll die by...

Patience

There's nothing more humbling
Than a good ***** up, right?

I remember that time,
You know,
That time when we were side by side
We'd done it many times together
Clothes on
But this was different
We were vulnerable
We were quiet
And we were flesh

And now, I'm sitting here
In a jumble of emotion
Replaying everything
I am an absolute ****-***

I've eaten
I've slept
I don't know what the hell's wrong here

I miss you
And yet I'm so angry
I'm failing
And I need a crutch terribly
I'm looking for anyone to lean on

And right now, I'm faking being ok.
And I'll keep doing it
Because, in reality, I could be a total ****
And this is me unraveling
Everything that's causing me the least bit of stress
Watch me burst at the seams
Scarecrow with mental issues

I am beyond ****** up, and you're still around?
Why is this happening, and why are you here?
More than that, why am I writing this
Sad sack of ******* that is called a poem?

Poetry is beautiful
Poetry is poignant
I'm being annoying
I'm being childish
I'm being immature
I'm being ridiculous

And God, God why are you so near?
But you feel so distant...
And I feel like I have all of hell's respite on
my back
And there's nothing
******* nothing that's doing a **** thing for me right now

Not liqour
Not love
Not happiness
Not Joy

I spout off at the mouth
And people think I'm more ****** up than I feel
That situations are worse than they really are
I need to work at this communication thing,
Or maybe I'm as ****** up as people think
Or worse...
Maybe I'm completely normal

Take an anti-air gun to my brain
I'm higher than I kite
So put some holes in me before I reach the stars
Gang Wars
Low Drawers
Garage Doors
Storage Wars
Puff/Blow, Click/Clack, Scritch/Scratch
All the sounds made to satisfy cravings
Take another run of this verbal drug
I've heard it's called poetry
I'll pass the pen if you'll
Take a hit with me

Email please stop
You're endangering my sanity

BING YOU GOT MAIL

Oh, thank you...
I mean, no! I will not be phased!

BING YOU GOT MAIL

Oh, hellopoetry! I do love that site.

BING YOU GOT MAIL

Someone liked my poem?
How kind of them!

BING YOU GOT MAIL

Well, if I must, I can give a few
Seconds
Minutes
Hours

BING YOU GOT MAIL

Ok, you got me... that's enough

BING YOU GOT MAIL

Email, what the ****

BING YOU GOT MAIL

That's... I've seen that before

BING YOU GOT MAIL

Email, that's not even correct grammar
Well, it's poor grammar
In the very least

BING-BING-BING-BING YOU GOT MAIL

I can't stand this anymore.
It's time to pull the plug.
Hide beneath the rug
I'm coming for you,
You *****, rotten *****.

Frothing forked tongues
Hit the stratosphere

Bear rugs on dirt floors
Draw me near

Flesh on flesh
Trial by fire
All it seems to be
Earthly desire

The man on the moon
Had no idea the penalty
Penalty of failings
And days of new

I take what I want
I leave you broken
Friendship lost
You say no

Lead me to other worlds

What can be said
With this teeming mess of tangles
Interwoven histories of
Taking chances

Why is it that
I feel nothing
I love You
Is but a saying
Between fakers.