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ABadPenname Jun 2015
NEW DAY—
   wake up.
Put your head in order.
Do not trust the inspiration just
go with it. Because
when it strikes it strikes hard and fast and
it ends with both sides panting— put your head in order.
   It's a good thing waking up early.
Shower off, then immediately after—
two cups of coffee. And a cigarette.
I hold my vices in a cup.
   Relapse into delirium; it's O.K.
—Quickly out the window to first
breathe in new day.
Snag the morning paper as an errand; locate self on this
wide spinning orb.
Locate self in the Material, then
locate your Center.
I have a CENTER.
All good feelings from the CENTER.
Bleed me. —Get my head together.
   Back inside to fireplace, and piles
upon piles
upon piles of
needless words, works and extra copies,
all to be delivered unto warmth—my fire.
Put the book down.
Do not obsess over self-image, or
Self involving propoganda.
   Accept the imminent dissatisfaction— I mean
really Accept that.
One more smoke,
****** thoughts—    Keep your head in order.

Get to know what wears you and describe it eloquently.
Lose all track of time just walking.
Walk more often.
Love your footsteps, each and every ******* one.
REMEMBER:
   Timing is a virtue.
morning after documented.
Ryan Unger Jun 2015
Meet my dog Peeve.

Please, feel free to pet Peeve.

Also, feel free to talk too loudly and wake up my children,

Feel free to eat the rest of my food without asking,

Feel free to finish the toilet paper roll and not replace it,

Feel free to interrupt me when I’m talking about my summer vacation,

Feel free to listen to loud music while I’m trying to relax,

Feel free to take credit for everybody else’s accomplishments,

Feel free to take everything that anybody’s ever done for you for granted, and continue living a thankless existence, while thinking the world owes you something you’ve never deserved.

But most of all, feel free to pet Peeve.
Ryan Unger Jun 2015
Sometimes I hate the whether.
I don’t know whether I should have a salad or eat a steak.
Where’s a meatierologist when you need one?
Ryan Unger Jun 2015
Staring at a blank page, I don’t know what to write,
The stress of creating poetry can be a mental fight.
There’s so many things to write about where do I even start?
I want it to be meaningful and I want it to be smart.

I sit impatiently waiting for a thought in my office chair,
That will spark something in my mind, but there’s nothing there!
I try listening to music or watching TV for an idea,
I even left the office and walked to the pizzeria!

How do other people do it? I really wanna know!
Because writers block is following me wherever I seem to go!
Whether it’s at the office, or at home, I just can’t seem to shake it,
A poem is calling out to be made and I just can’t seem to make it!

I want to ask the writing Gods for help and beg them on my knees!
I’ve been sitting here for way too long so can you help me please?
I feel like such a failure when my writing seems to struggle,
My creativity hopped right in bed with writers block to snuggle.

I rack my brain but nothings there, it’s full of empty vaults,
What I need is some mental gymnastics and creative somersaults.
O god!  Writing poetry can really be so draining,
But look! I wrote this whole poem in the time I spent complaining!
Skip Ramsey Jun 2015
Death is kind of like living.
Only, not so much.
Gimme tips on how to be a dummy
Because I really want to be funny
I wanna hear their endless laughs
And praise me then gimme thousand claps
But I end up being mainstream
Cant make a joke with a yummy cream
I cant satisfy their funny bones
So i'll just eat lots of ice cream cones
Aside from being stupid... How do you even make funny punch lines?
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Night Turned its Starry Coat into Dark Notions. . .
Delightful Ray Played Blues On Lusts ~ First Night !
When Jim was Sipping Crazy Potions ~
Untill His Hands got Trembling Fright !

It Took Him Moments for Devotion Spell. . .
To Cast upon Clair's Classy A'rs 'nd Flares ~
To dwell and itch bellow 'er skirts As Hell ~
Untill T'is Mad'am Pushed Jim down the Staires !

This ended poor Jim's Passion & Romance:
Regardless of Clair's squeeks 'nd ***** Sweet !
He ne'er dared to spinn her skirts in Fado Dance ~
Untill Her Feet At Night toward His Chambers Fleet. . .


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Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic Love
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