One more poem, I guess
Just for tonight
High of musical melodies
Take another hit of that sound

I want to do alliteration
But ******* buy back
And I forget my place.

I haven’t spoken in a while
Like, really spoken
I remember saying
“The best times are when I’m speaking”
And then I outright
Avoid it.

I bathe in this now.
It disgusts me.
I ******’ bathe in this now
Don’t look up, you’ll drown

**** this dude is annoying as hell
Says the over indulged little man on his
Hipster compy

Can you feel the self-loathing?
Good. Cuz, this is me slitting wrists

Nothing is really that impressive when you write it yourself
I’m never proud of the words
Arranged on paper

But ****, that guy can poet.
**** English, I do whatever I **** well please
Let me chill you.

I’ve heard children be labeled as mistakes
I still can’t believe that.
I could sit here and write salt all day
That **** would still surprise me.
Like a one-legged ****** bursting out of the cake on the 4th of July.

Oh Look! Intelligence!
Says no one as we stroll through the store

Trailer park arrivals
Getting darker vitals
Let's just rhyme random nonsense

I took a stroll with God today
He's risen, you know
I took a stroll with God today
Imprisoned in sin, I know

There's coffee in my brain
And coffee in my hand

And stains where no tear drops
e'er fell

There's chocolate on my toast
There's chocolate on my toast
There's spices on my roast

What's this world coming to?

I probably would have died today
Well,  I could have
Ok, probably not
Well,
possibly

I mean,
I never thought I'd be here
At least, not earlier
Not even today, really

I'm speaking nonsense
I hope you didn't expect any better
I'm giving my two cents
Come, get to know me better

In reality, back to the beginning
I think everyday we could die
Why am I alive today?
I'm really not sure.
There's a greater purpose,
if you're into that.
No
There's a greater purpose.
I'm not sure I could live otherwise.

Is this getting through to you,
reader?
Reader are you there?
I do seriously hope you are.
It's cold here.
Here in the writer's gallows
You can leave me hanging
I don't mind

I might die today
Are you there?
We could die today

Drop
Drop
Drop

Hourglass speaking

Drop
Drop
Drop

Waterspout crying

Tap
Tap
Tap

Children’s aquarium

Tap
Tap
Tap

Pet store window

Scratch
Scratch
Scratch

Dog outside

Scratch
Scratch
Scratch

Poetry

A discontented silence raised itself among the fellows

Which of us?

Then it becomes a ******* race.

I write to seek and to find

Please, someone define the languish of hypocrisy
I can do me all by myself

Scattered brain splattering
Jackson *******'s word-painting
Find Pascal's triangle inside me
I hope it's in the mouth.

Arbitrary. Periods.

Here I am, delirious

Anatomy
An-at-oh-mee
Will you make a friend with me?

Curves and hairs
And you-know-wheres
Lips and tips
Of fingers
Linger

Kisses from misses
And dangers from strangers
What clothes can hide

Familial and not
Familiar and never-known
Embraces
Bright faces
And moods to go along

Anatomy
Anatomy
Great, beautiful anatomy
Sculpted in clay
Finer than diamonds

When life is up,
To the ground with thee,
Anatomy
From dust
To dust

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 ****.

The one-eyed man
With his one-finger hand
Told me the one secret to life

Live by twos
And find two truths
And hopefully, never find two lies

Three people can join
While three can soil *****
And three pairs of pants will be needed

Four mistresses
Take four distresses
And pop four pills a piece

Five dollars is all you need
For five pound of speed
To do, for five days, about nothing

Six skin flicks
With six dude-chicks
Make six uncomfortable scenarios

Seven is what you need
Seven of the kindest deeds
And then you'll find perfection in seven.

I realized, looking into her eyes
In a picture
In a room
In my mind
That I never gave her a chance

She deserves better

And every time I think of her,
I want to be that

We forced it
And ****, was it hot
But I'm not about to lose her
And in order to keep her
We need the parking break

It's time to stop putting pressure on us both
And just be
Be friends
Be loving
Be spiritual
Be understanding
Be strong and weak
And be with and without

There's a serenity in the days
I miss her so dearly, but I know now
How much I needed this
How much we needed this

I am in a relationship, contrary to electronic letters
and words

I pray about you often
Just about every time I pray, honestly
And the thought of you with another man makes me physically ill
I almost can't imagine it

I love you more than I can put into words
And simply for the sole reason that you are
Who you are

"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.

***** my sideways
Laterallity
I make words out of structure
And there's little left to say.

There's a secret door to your right
There's a pen to your left
Create your own worlds
Or be stuck in the one you're in

What's better?
Escaping reality in fantasy
Calamity

We look towards this life as something
So negative
What if the life we're living is the utmost positive?

What if this is the best?
The dissatisfied part of me screams in agony
The happier part shouts for joy.

This truly is the best life.
What really matters, I suppose
Is how we conduct ourselves
and the views we hold.

"Just remember the last password,"
Passing out over dog turds
As they flush out their ***** soaked linens.

A second away, a crusader she stays,
letting men and women, alike, hit rock bottom.
Her hair properly coiffed,
Her apron in a knot,
tied neatly, behind her back.
She waters the garden,
begs for no pardons
and awaits the hose to lose its slack.

Take me to the skies Dad
I said silently
Hoping that today would be different

Affronted with something else
Rather than happiness
There's a biting edge to the words
I'm sorry I'm ten year's old

It's always been on me,
I'm not sorry that I failed you
I'm sorry that you expected miracles
From a human child

And yet she slumbers,
knowing not what goes through his mind,
and little more of what goes through her own.

Listlessness in terms of what to do,
and what not.

What's there to do when both the kettle and the *** are black?
Is it what many call love?

Why does it feel different than rom-coms
and everything that seems so well to point it out.

Instead, it's a hunger; it's a hunger to do more for the sake of her.
For the sake of self, and more for the sake of the one who created them both.

*Let us pray

"Uneasy hearts weigh the most,"
Is it not the truth?

Productivity is for the birds
So let's start the pecking order

Zoom like starships, did you know they were meant to fly?
Pop stars tell facts

Let's name my ****
We'll call it Mr. Richard
Too formal?
What about Mr. Pritchard?
I added a "P" at the beginning
P for *****

*******, Freudian holiday
A Holy Day of obligation?
I better stop before I get struck with lightning
Blasphemy
Passed to me
Last of me
Squeeze out every drop

Make sure you swallow
It's rude to talk with your mouth full

I just want to write one more,
      before I become an adult again.

Posh poetries in the minds of the youth
Aren't we all such genius minds?
(Doesn't that sound cool? I'm just puffing smoke!)

Pretty women, walking by
Men that lack a stronger eye
(It rhymes, but I mean willpower)

Just in case you didn't know,
I assume you do.
(Once again, I'm talking about my
analogies and wordplay)

Talking in text
Because face-to-face is awkward
But your smile downplays it,
And I'm happy to bask in it
(It being the awkward situation for you
grammar nuts out there.)

I figure I'd be funny
Poetry like Bugs Bunny
I just hope it's a little more "PC"
(Politically-correct, Bugs Bunny was not, though
funny he was.
If you don't know who Bugs is, educate yourself!
You sadden me.)

We are ocean

We are unfurled fury
We are peaceful compassion
We are unknown

As we push against the sands of time
Irreconcilable
We beat, we beat, we lapse

Children await us
Searching the horizons for our source of strength

And the sun sets once more
relinquishing it's last bit of light
giving a reflection of what can be.

I search the shores of San Diego
Couples embracing
Rocks bracing against the wind
Lonely hearts embracing the
massiveness that is the Pacific, Atlantic,
whichever
I watch as surfers awaiting the next gift
that the ocean will bring
I watch the waves,
they fall into themselves like a man losing everything
And slap against each other like a man slapping his own knee
hearing something too comedic to leave be
I watch the birds as the encircle but a measly patch of land
covered in sand
and others encircle but a small, infinitesimal speck of ocean
I watch the pier stand firm in face of waves that threaten
the stability of the entirety
and people, like ants,
walk up and down the way
The infinity of the ocean is something that I take no part of.
Like a child that doth not wish to take part of a game in the schoolyard
I traipse along the sand
looking towards infinity.

It's been 5 days since I've written anything
And the scraggles of hair that line my jaw
Show that it's been 5 days since I've done anything
Rhyme anything with anything
And hope to bring some silence
To the demons in my mind
And the silence surrounding

Never have I thought of this
As being the life that I would live
But now that it is what it is
I'll always remember the kids

And watching your avoiding eyes
As I say "Hi"
You say "Goodbye"
And that's the end of history
That's the end of herstory

And now I'm wondering
Where the hell I'm left at
And what the hell I'm left with
On the corner of confused and confidence

There was a time that I swore more in written word
than in spoken.
I think the turn has tabled.