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

Hello to the Tin Man
Said the body of various organs

Warriors sit in fields of fire
Braving heat, metal, and fury
Kneeling in the battlefield
Swords to stomachs
Bullets to brain cavities
God Bless America

Unpatriotic
God Bless the World
What's so **** special about the U.S.
We have freedom,
That's well and good
But why can't we wish for blessing
Across humanity

Avoid warriors in fields of fire
Stop braving heat, metal, and fury
Don't take a knee in the battlefield
Don't even approach it
Put down the Sword
The bullet can be unspent
Thank you soldiers for the fight for freedom,
But God Bless Everyone
Not just the winners
Not just the losers

The Tin Man's bent to hell
He's seen too much
This body of organs
Would like to stay intact
But the saving of the soul(s)
Is far more important

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

I wrote
and wrote
and wrote
and wrote
and wrote
and wrote
and wrote

And you read
And kept reading
And said so many things
And most were not hollow
But in the morning, we're still
Across borders
Across highways
Across Oceans
Separate lives

Glob
Of poetry
Flowing down her throat
She didn't stop
So neither did I

There was a listless poison that lingered in the air
And it softly rested its laurels on my shoulders
And as the day passed on, its hand reached for my lungs
And as the night reached its end, the poison dipped its foot in my everything

As my flesh started to wilt
And my body attempted to end
I asked a simple question, "Why?"

But should it have been a statement?
A thank you?

If I could write a word for every thought
left unfinished, unsaid, I'd almost write a full

Anachronous monogamy
Schwarzenegger gets to the choppa
Invisible maliciousness awaits to those who
Explore the jungles, Danny Trejo just wants help
Crisis in the management takes two eggs to heal it
Two eggs, two dregs, two more lines to make it through
The day. **** like howitzers, snake in my trousers, wearing overalls
Doesn’t make me gay. Pig farmers, snake charmers, **** undercover, pigs
Make the best companions. Dead of night, chill or fright, I’m here so talk to me.

Drive off the edge of a shallow cliff
Congrats, you've made it off the curb

Doing drastic things has never been my specialty
Let's live vicariously through someone else
I won't feel anything
But that cuts both ways

Melodramaticism spills forth onto a page that exists
Only because we want it to.
Philosophy in this place
Semantics in schools

School of thought
School of rot
School of wrought

Insides sink like they're covered in ink
Resting in my pelvis

Anatomy is for the birds
But people have it too

I'm still waiting,
Haven't you heard?
I'm still a ******.
Wrong wait,
As in: wait here just a little
I've got more to say

Feeding experiments to those most hungry
Let's secretly give syphilis.

Disgusting peoples live throughout our days
The devil and God are raging inside of me
Let's be brand new

Just nonsense,
drivel
Welcome to my poetry
There's meaning here, seriously
Just, please, don't let go of me.

Anything I said would do nothing
                     to change us completely

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)

I say this over
and over
and over
and over and over
and over
and over
I've said it over
and over
and over
and over
and over
I'll say it over
and over
and over
and over
and over:
I consistently
disappoint
no one
but myself

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 to take
From a life with no lies?
With trials,
tribulations,
temptations,
troubles
And No black ink
On the body of ideals

Father’s happy
Mother’s happy
Brother and Sister
Jealous and angered
Frustrated and battered
Tired and at loss

Cup’s over flown
Body is gone
Wine spilled forth
Bread passed down
Taken as what is
He is.

**** I’m old as dirt
And I still don’t have my **** in a stack

At least I got life on lock
Better than THAT guy

Fake.

I don’t know what I’m doing.
I can tell my poems are getting *******…
Seems to happen when the night gets later

Don’t blame me for this ****.
I’m freaking tired…
But it could be something else
That is just ******* up how I’m feeling.

At this point, I’m rolling my face
On the keyboard
I’m sure that was pretty obvious

Give me some criticism I can’t handle…
Actually, just **** me.
I think I’d handle that just about as well.

I think about that ****,
But I can’t handle it.
Sticking my **** in someone
Sounds like ****** to the virginity

For some reason, it sounds so normal until I put myself as the
Perpetrator

Old women watch *******
Solid logic.

Welcome to a reading of my innermost thoughts.
I call it poetry on most days.
It stings sometimes.

The stars,
****, the stars

I look at them,
From within this suit
In the envelop of space
Outside the atmosphere
Of the place I call home
Attached to the ship
Allowing me to roam

I walk across the nothingness
Looking at the vast beauties
I'm so insignificant

So

Incredibly

Small

Attached to this ship
In which I roam through space
Within this suit
I see these stars

So Insignificant

The crew should not have
Let me out
Repairs are what I should be doing
Healing the vessel in which we travel

But I'm so small

I'd rather just take my helmet off
The helmet

Off

My brains can join the stars

It's been a long time since I ****** with a pen.
Told my lady tonight something I just can't forget:
If you really love something, at least do it on the side.

So welcome me back, O wordsmith, if you would delight.

If not, fade me to alignment of some other greater ill,
fate me worse none, than one thought, but I will still keep a bill
of every broken, ****** up, and beautiful thing that I've been given,
and I'll still want to turn that **** into a living.

Scrap what've been saying,
Let's start over.
I'll be nicer
But you be wiser...

No

That's what I've been saying all along.
That's not really starting over, eh?
All right, really, now.
Let's do this.
I'm sorry
I'm sorry for swearing so often
I'm sorry for never respecting myself
And more than anything, I'm sorry for the downward spiral that I never stop until
It's too late
That's what I'm sorry for.
I'm sorry for my hedonistic tendencies, and I'm sorry that I forget about you
The funny thing about relationships is that they require both people working
...I haven't worked since I was five.
Child labor

Speak me up
I really like to hear it.

Beam me up
I really want to appear
Like
I know what I’m doing
In front of a large crowd

You want the truth?
I’ll give it.
I want to scream out-loud

Let’s be scared together
I know that I know nothing
I hope you know more
If you don’t
That’s fine
Let’s be scared together

*******.
Seriously,
I'd love to.

I mean, I thought things had changed
I thought we were friends
But the minute I saw you twirling your hair,
Fixing what I never thought was broken
****.

I don't even want lust,
I want you.

You

Always

I know things have changed in your eyes
Breaking up,
Without a relationship
We are not together,
We never were.

Can you stay here forever?
I don't want to let go of
Your
Picture
Your
Face

"I sound like a teenager."
She said reading her own
Work
That goes both ways now,
Both ways

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 ******.

If I were the man
Tom Cruise plays in Top Gun
I'd be half the man I once was

Truth is, however,
I've never seen the film

So call this premature enlightenment
Or idiosyncratic ignorance

I'll be here all the same.

With ink and pen I write what
I believe to be true
I once typed that I was nearly
100% sure I was to marry you

But now I feel
It's not fact
And I will
Probably
Never get you back
And nearly 100% of me
Is ok with that.

He sits in overwhelming
Silence

In a sense, protesting what was ne'er to
Be

With a beer in one hand, and work in the
Other

There's much to be done,
Here

This silence, he
Realizes

Is like an interwoven
Blanket

Seemingly nothing gets
Through

Not even what he needs
Most

I still look towards you,
apparently, when I'm drinking;
I've done it sober, too.
I check up on you every now and again.
Hoping things are better than they were.

I imagine this on typewriter paper,
and I imagine myself a better man than I am.

And then I realize, that it's not, and I am working on me...
and that I'm sorry that I hurt you.

I often wonder if you'd have been better if I were never in your life.

If there's something to write,
      it's certainly not in my mental sphere.

"It's been less than a year."
He said with sincerity
Did he believe it?
Was the question
The answer was