Poems are where you find 'em

Find 'em so easy,
It is not my fault,
Don't always spend hours on my craft,
Rather add 'em to the vault.

Like somebody once wrote,

"No matter that plain words are my ordinary tools
With them I shall scribe the small,
Cherish the little, grab the middle.
Simplicity my golden rule.
Write they say, about what you know best,
Surely in the diurnal motions,
The arc of daily commotion,
Do we not all excel?"

So if I saw my lady in half
To make her and you laugh,
Is that not still a poem, tho,
Half-assed?

Don't be angry at me if poems,
-They come at me at all angles,
-Crunch like shells neath my flip-flops,
-If your face moves me,
-If your angry bird poems
-Make me crazier at 2:00am
-Come in between heartbeats and ******* breathing regular
-Come with cloudy milk in my tea, biscuits stale
-Come from my machine gun brain that fires
so hot, they replace the barrel every 5 minutes
-If no good, too bad for you
-If I don't obey the rules
-I don't got
-Gee, all I did was write down in words
-What you made, presented to me
-And cared about

For,
Like the kid said,
"In the arc of daily commotion
Do we not all excel?"

That kid, he knew, what I mean to say,
But he said it so much better,
Someday, wanna be like that talented kid,
Like him, like me, when I was younger,
And an even bigger fool.

1:48am Sept. 2, 2013