"durden" poems
The first fight club was just Tyler and I
pounding on each other.
It used to be enough that when I came home angry
and knowing that my life wasn't toeing my five-year plan,
I could clean my condominium or detail my car.
Someday I'd be dead without a scar
and there would be a really nice condo and car.
Really, really nice,
until the dust settled
or the next owner.
Nothing is static.
Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart.
Since fight club, I can wiggle half the teeth in my jaw.
Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer.
Tyler never knew his father.
Maybe self-destruction is the answer.
Tyler and I still go to fight club, together.
Fight club is in the basement of a bar, now,
after the bar closes on Saturday night,
and every week you go
there's more guys there.
Tyler gets under the one light
in the middle of the black concrete basement
and he can see that light flickering
back out of the dark
in a hundred pairs of eyes.
First thing Tyler yells is,
"The first rule about fight club
is you don't talk about fight club.
"The second rule about fight club,"
Tyler yells,
"is you don't talk about fight club."
Me,
I knew my dad for about six years,
but I don't remember anything.
My dad,
he starts a new family
in a new town
about every six years.
This isn't so much a family
as it's like he sets up a franchise.
What you see at fight club
is a generation of men
raised by women.
...
You aren't alive anywhere like you are at fight club.
When its you and one other guy
under that one light
in the middle of all those watching.
Fight club isn't about winning or losing fights.
Fight club isn't about words.
You see a guy come to fight club for the first time,
and his *** is a loaf of white bread.
You see the same guy here six months later,
and he looks carved out of wood.
This guy trusts himself to handle anything.
There's grunting and noise at fight club
like at the gym,
but fight club isn't about looking good.
There's hysterical shouting in tongues
like at church,
and when you wake up Sunday afternoon
you feel saved.
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
“You have a kind of sick desperation in your laugh.” – Tyler Durden, Fight Club
You have a kind of sick
desperation in your laugh.
You always think of others.
They never do,
on your behalf.
He’s there you’re him.
You’re here he’s you.
He says he’s Tyler.
And you are?
Who?
Clinging to the manic sense
you get when you’re a l o n e .
String up the failing,
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
words,
you feel you must atone.
Who are you really?
Slipping
f l a i l i n g
unmissed and left to burn.
Black and darkened
Your heart unharkened
The page is left,
unturned.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
*And suddenly I realized that all of this,
The gun, the bombs, the revolution
Has got something to do
With a girl named Marla Singer.*
Cornelius, Rupert, Travis, Tyler Durden
Who could really tell how many are we in a single body?
Mind creating multiple personas, good or bad
Or both could mean the same thing,
A label, a name as it is,
Could mean something or nothing
***And there could always be a Tyler Durden
The Bold and Free, The Enlightened one***
We see ourselves as we’d like to be
Good or Bad? Again, we decide what is right
Founder of our own fellowship
For our own Project Mayhem
For a girl named Marla Singer..
What again is a Project Mayhem?
***All I know is…
First and Second Rule:
You do not ask questions about PROJECT MAYHEM.***
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
The thin, clear layer that forms on rendered fat is glycerine.
You can mix it with nitric acid to make nitroglycerine.
Mix that with an alkali nitrate and something like sawdust or paper mush and -Boom!-
Dynamite.
I learn things when I listen.
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
Its 2am
Tuesday morning
I should be sleeping
But instead I'm curled up In bed
Feet high above my head
Smiling at the texts you've sent me
And an overwhelming warmth
Rushes over me
Like the sea kissing the shoreline
When I'm thinking of you
Your smile, golden brown eyes, durden-esque hair
The way your laughter fills the air
And when I'm with you
Really with you
That's when the fireworks inside my chest ignite
And with every kiss I'm left to decide
If I want to breathe
Or indulge myself a little more
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
RECORD: LIFE'S A BEACH
FROGMAN: DJANGO DJANGO
It's only after you've lost everything, that
YOU'RE FREE
to do anything.
-- Tyler Durden, Tacky Frogman
Suzy's: Indeed, a lesson that might help one to burn off
How dangerous the acquirement of data is
and how much clappier those Brads and Janets might be
whom believe their native thought to be The Word,
than one who aspires to be greater
than their creader will allow.
-- Victor Frankenstein, Suzy
Dr. Everett Scott: Janet!
Janet: Dr. Scott!
Brad: Janet!
Janet: Brad!
Frank: Rocky Bottom!
[Rocky frunts]
Dr. Everett Scott: Janet!
Janet: Dr. Scott!
Brad: Janet!
Janet: Brad!
Frank: Rocky Bottom!
[Rocky frunts]
All-Present!
STOP: TURN THOUGHT
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 3:13 PM UTC
Overthink
Overthought
What am I
To get over?
She is the real Durden
Everything that I am not
But an apple turnover,
Spickle and spackle
Listen to the crinkle
And the crackle,
What plays the mind
If the records
No longer spin,
Retreat retreat retreat
On repeat
No baffle
To this wiffle
Waffles in the AM,
Pockets empty
There is nothing to collect
Unemployed dreams
I question the sparkle,
The sweet of the sprinkles
This life long ago wrecked...
APAD16 - 006 © okpoet
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Widen those chubby thighs and let him get a little
too close for comfort
Expose those torn up sides once you flick off the lights so you can
avoid direct eye contact.
You're so convincing when he tries to get emotionally close and you
take those fake mental notes
A girl is only as strong as her crutch
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
Tumbling out of bed after a long night out
(my head hurts)
after hanging out with friends at Beach *** Burts...
I put on my office face that morning like a pair of worn out shoes
I'm sad that day/I've got the blues
I let out a sigh
somehow managing to survive the 405
In my car I down my Starbucks
spilling it down my dress shirt
I'm mumbling to myself ***
I put a blazer on to cover it up
My boss cheerfully says "Good Morning"
inside my head all I hear is...
(Oh, please ...Shut the f-up!)
Wandering to my cubby I find my spot
pushing papers around all day
it's 5 o'clock n' my brain is shot...
(I should work out tonight)
Instead I find myself numbing up again
because the rat race seems like it will never end
(I need to write that book - I need to write that script)
I need a vacation...
I wanna check out - I wanna get ripped
All of this responsibility feels like such a burden
(I feel like Tyler Durden)
I've got car payments now/and rent to pay
(Do I have a choice...
Do I have a say?)
~Paradise has a price~
to live in the Golden State...
(I'm surviving)
I have to put food on my plate.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
RECORD: STARVE THE EGO, FEED THE SOUL
FROGMAN: b-e-a-GLITCH-ed- MO-B-i-US
Johnny's and Suzy's: Clearheaded,
enough to re-member throwse
Two roads divergent in a desert, and I—
I took the one most pondered by,
And that has made no din-fearence.
-- Robert Frost, Frogman
It's a regret-fully re-membered-trance.
And yet it teaches one that there is
Dare, or dare not.
There is no try.
-- Yoda, Frogman
"Sticking fteathers up your rutt does not get you a kick'n!"
-- Tyler Durden, Greedy Scorpion
[ . . I hear.
I see.
I dare.
I learn . .
Johnny's: Now, Dare
STOP: LOOSE THOUGHT
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC
it's one of those nights
when i want to smoke a pack
and drink enough to start crying
when i really don't want to talk about it
when i'm so fine
i'm not fine
i'm not fine at all
i'm at my lowest
yet tyler ******* durden would mock my definition of
"the bottom"
it's one of those nights when
i want to get deeper
because
only when you reach the bottom
you can rest
you can even make it comfy
it won't possibly get worse, so
why go for making it the best?
that, you can't have
cause life is a *****
and we are imperfect and
we are god's unwanted children
and other horribly amazing quotes
it's one of those nights when
i want to jump in front of the last train
and become an awful, fascinating piece of art
but that wouldn't be reaching the bottom
that would be avoiding it
and i'm a tough guy, all right?
all right?????
it's one of those nights
when nothing seems right or real
when i blink really fast and
when i'm not sure this is the proper way to breathe
when i miss everyone; when
i miss even you
and i hate you in my guts because
YOU ARE THE REASON I'M THIS WAY
YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU
YOU *******
it's one of those nights when i wish you were here
when i wish you'd still pretend i was important
you'd help my heart function properly
(*you stole it you burned it you killed it you monster*)
it's one of those nights
but you have her now
and i have no one
and i want to smoke a pack
and drink until i cry
and cut until i die
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
It's one in the morning
And I'm in the bathroom contemplating
The social repercussions
Of grabbing you by the shirt
And punching you
With Tyler Durden might.
It's one in the morning
And I'm thinking about
Making love to you
Because you're drunk
And you won't remember it the next morning;
Because you know how badly
I wish people couldn't remember
My mistakes.
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
-
Any Body Care?
any body Daring Enough
to
Fake it?
any body Gracious enough
to
Hide their Insults?
any body Kind enough
to
**** their Laughter?
any body Mindful enough
to
Notice an Open mind?
any body Polite enough
to
Quietly Respect
the
Sentimental Truth behind
the
Universal Versatile
styles of Writing
of
Existential Youth?
"Zzzzzzzz"
Keep Sleeping, world.
Were the ones that burn your Book,
cook your Meals n wield your Word,
turn your Tables up side Down,
crown your Halos right side Up.
Were the ones that up your Way,
wake you Up n pull you Down,
down your Blood n **** you Dry,
dye your Hairs n ware you Thin.
Were the ones you think you Killed,
Still the ones with willful Thought:
All the ones that cross a Line,
Im the one that signs its Bill.
Were the ones that build you Up,
cut you Down n shout out Timber!
Were the ones that tip the Drill,
tilt the Ships n chip the Chucks,
hunt the Mills n spill the Guts,
cut the Hairs n bare the Gift.
Were the ones that give you Lift,
lift your Covers, tuck you In,
ink your Spines n sing your Ticket,
tick your Time n tie you Up:
Were the ones that punch your Clock,
block the Sun n run in Flocks,
lock your Wings n sling the Rocks,
Drop your wings n swing you High.
Were the ones that hide in Packs,
axing........Axing........stacking........Lumber.
the
"people you are After
are the
people you dePend on."
- Tyler Durden
.
© Copyright Jesse James Adams
.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
i'm your tyler durden
i only come out
when you're asleep
because i love her
and she loves you
and no one loves me
the song of the universe, huh
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
Combine a volatile mixture of ego
And the ability to work just a little bit harder
And you get a generation
Of people who value what they can do
More than what they should do
Where stuff
Money
The ******* pieces of art hanging in the walls
Are more important
When you look a man in the eye
Than what you see looking back at you
Do you think you could **** a man?
Knowing you'd be saving him from so much
And shaming him to never be saved
Do you think you could still pull the trigger while he pleaded for you to stop?
Would you feel responsible for the rush of a will to live when take the gun away?
You piece of ****
That wasn't supposed to be the way it was
Every single person I've met has told me
Part of growing up is accepting what you can't change
Well Mr. Full of **** and vinegar
You've done enough accepting for the both of us
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 7:08 PM UTC
I miss you
Your obnoxious laugh
Your double knee
I miss you
The rotating doors of girls
who planned a future w you
I miss you
My uncle, My bestfriend
My role model, My idol
I miss you.
Sergeant First Class Tyler Durden
Gone to soon
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 10:03 AM UTC
Step by step, tyranny
Tease me rough without laches
At least don't leave me in your protean arms, dissembled in activism
In my forged memoir of your laughing, your kauch killing me not
My katzenjammer can handle your astute Aesop's words and wanton
A lullaby to remember, an anxious feeling?
Pick me up at the open-sesame street
Lacunae, propitious, wasted by the remonstration and impertinence
This is my land of thought full of moral desert, in confidence
I am Tyler Durden's wasted brother in arms by namesake
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC