"lenny" poems
Cray-Z...
*You know that you are, ******* crazy?*
*Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.*
*Are you movin' on up?
to the top, to a deluxe compartment in your mi-ind?*
Lenny?
Saul admired David...
"Admired,"
him.
dissolved him in, David.
*You know that you are, ******* crazy?*
*Look at the hands, -they swirl in, ceiling paint...
Thinking like this the world is NO constraint.*
Fuzzy
Futzy
Fickle
Fiber
Pick a pickle Whitley Streiber.
*Gargle,
Gasp, rinse and repeat.*
*Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely as complete.*
Crazy...
Carpet fibers tickle my neck.
I am a house.
Household item.
Bleach feels funny on the fingers,
they still won't change color back?
*Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.
Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely incomplete.*
Crazy you know that you are...
...is that wall supposed to be flashing?
!!!!GET OFF MY ROCKER!!!!*
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
I have an illustrious dream,
want to be Leonard
Cohen's gypsy wife,
he's kissing my lips on
Boogie Street,
impetuously we dance
to the end of love
'til closing time
midst his secret life,
he serenades me with
I'm your man
when we take Manhattan,
bewildered by his poetic beauty there
waiting for the miracle to happen,
a sip of wine, a cigarette
in love we disappear,
here it is, you got me singing
be that dog in heat,
I'll take this waltz and
another please, cause
everybody knows
I hunger for your touch,
his famous blue raincoat
and the dew on my thigh
goes a thousand kisses deep
in the cave at the tip of the lily
with its very own breath of brandy,
slipping into the masterpiece
where Lenny is eternal
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 6:50 PM UTC
#1. What in the world
possessed you
to do that!?@#$%^
My god . . . that was so stupid and careless!
#2. Why? . . .
I trusted my intuition.
My heart believed,
emotional logic compelled me.
Fluid, spontaneous from the gut.
#1. You’re crazy.
I would never
put myself at risk like that.
#2. What risk?
Getting harrassed
by the mind police?
They don't own me.
#1. But they punished you.
#2. No, just a little
desperate flaggelation.
#2. But look at yourself
all boxed up,
stigmatized and branded.
#1. You mean the labels?
Those words they use
to define me?
#2. Yes, you’re a bad person.
#1. No, I’m not.
#2. Yes, you are.
... and they argued til dawn
neither knowing
nature does not declare winners
but admires innovation....
like when Magellan sailed off no edges
when Einstein confounded everyone by sailing in his head
when the Wright Brothers lifted off
when Tesla moved electrons
when Christ embraced the centurions
when Gautama just sat down
when the librarian refused to take Catcher in the Rye off the shelf
when Lenny Bruce swore on stage
when Leary and Alpert left Harvard
when Joan of Arc refused to recant
when Gandhi and friends burned their English wool
when Jung declared a spiritual psyche
when the UFC earned a huge Neilsen
so be your own guru
take kava kava instead of Prozac
barter with your hair stylist
and when someone says
you are wrong
ask them why
there are no dinosaurs
in the Bible.
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 9:18 AM UTC
Of Mice and Men along within
Grapes of Wrath Steinbeck be ******
Lenny's rabbits...
What The Bleep Do We Know many runs never end
Of Lenny Bruce a scatological truth
Shock-jocks take clothes off
For censors ships to ignore the shore
Sycamore trees set Lenny Kravitz musical muse at ease
Now whom is the grounded man that lives loves laughs
As if a sailor on a sea of fate with flag at half staff
Know way one passion sit back relax
Seize the big-fish as they attack
Love love love knows know lack
Like Lenny Supak
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
i burnt the roast on christmas day.
my loves sat in silent pain
waiting for my neck to crane.
summers night and winters rain
couldn't cook this ******* roast again
i cant believe i burned the ******* roast.
each of them had different reasons
to feel so **** upset this season
it never felt right to believe in
love that can feel so uneven
ive cooked this ******* roast before i dont know how i ****** it up so bad
these seconds will never pass
table breaks the hourglass
my wife she's a lovely lass
why didnt she cook the ******* roast instead
**** **** **** **** **** ****
a look of sadness on my face
anxious forks hit sides of plates
i look to my loves and say
im not sure there'll be roast today
how could you burn the ******* roast on christmas?
the wine was almost nearly empty
most of it from my aunt wendy
whose husband left when she was twenty
but she brought some new man lenny
who also drank most of the wine
and was also upset that i burned the ******* roast
i didnt drive all the way out here
just to drink a couple beer
i know it may not be premiere
but bring that ******* roast out dear
okay mom.
i went back to the kitchen to get the burnt ******* roast
i found my wife her head ashake
frowning down to my dismay
you burnt the roast on christmas day
we'll find the love in your mistake
she kissed me
i tasted the roast and it wasnt that bad
i mean, it was pretty bad
but it was still there.
all those chairs, a different person
neither in their finest version
let my love be a diversion
**** you from your introversion
i burnt the roast on christmas day
lets find the love in our mistakes
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 1:16 AM UTC
Sitting on a bench just off the
Liberty Trail in Boston, waiting as
the rest of my family made a restroom stop.
An old man with a thick, greyish
beard and heavy eyelids
took a seat next to me.
His ***** white hair caught
a cotton seed sailing through the air.
The bag of tobacco in his hand
was wide open, and he
pulled a roll of Zig-Zags
out of his pocket—he tore
the paper about six inches long
and proceeded to
roll a cigarette. His fingers,
bent and forlorn,
worked tediously as a
diamond cutter’s.
He lit the cigarette, let out a ring of smoke,
and introduced himself as
Lenny. I told him my name
and we talked for a few minutes.
"What brings you to Boston
young fella?" he said
in his aged Boston accent.
"Family vacation--personally, I'm
interested in all the history of the town."
By now his cigarette is
half-burnt, and my family is
ready to continue on the trail.
Lenny turned to me with
a low look in his eyes,
but he cracked a smile.
He had a couple teeth missing
Before I got up he said to me,
“When I want to sit and think,
a cigarette isn’t long enough
to burn through my thoughts,
but a conversation with a
stranger every day
is what keeps my mind
from running away in smoke.”
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
The day becomes electric,
as billowing storm clouds grow
and race relentlessly
toward shore.
We scatter hither and yon
awaiting the rain to fall
and a baby continues to cry
once more.
the sun blasts through in anger.
slashing rays penetrating
and Lenny Kravitz playing
on 104.
We watch in dense anticipation
while seagulls maneuver overhead
and no one quite knows
what’s in store.
Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 5:18 AM UTC
(Adult Content )
"There was a smell of **** in the air "
So said Henry Miller.
Women in Love
in the old wood shed
He loved her ****
or
so he said.
Lawrence lingered in rooms
filled
with old echoes.
***
Eroticism (hormones)
takes the body
Myth takes
the mind.
***** brain
where everything is
****** parts
T & A
**** and ***
Sell that soap
Cars love Shell Gasoline
Lenny Bruce
went down for that.
People have life force
some call it souls
Personalities
Lives on their way
Better get an AI robot
have it your way.
Objectify
Deny
What is this
****** stuff
anyway?
Get close
because I love you?
******* dreams
all night long?
Madonna/Whore
Male or female
doesn't matter
either can be
either one.
The bed has been made
Looks like someone
must have had a
seizure
in
it.
Eroticism/Hormones
take the body
Myth takes the mind
But
When you come ***
you're done.
Wait a half hour
start all over again
you know
when you're young.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC
Disgrace
About face
Try it all again.
Steinbeck really
Killed it when he
Wrote ‘Of Mice and Men.’
George protected Lenny when
He shot him in the head. Lenny
Tended to the rabbits; In the end
They all were dead. Did you read it,
Back in high school, when you were
The baseball star? Was your girlfriend
Still a ****** when she left the backseat
Of your car? Did you divorce before you
Married? Did the rabbit really die? Did your
Girlfriend raise the baby, listen to the baby cry?
Will you ever say “I’m sorry?” Will you cry when
She is gone? Or will you write a story ‘bout your life,
Called, “Hobo Carry On.”
Phil Lindsey 6/4/15
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
Isolated faces paradoxically surround
Bound by wants infinity
I strayed away from banks
Cause greed was just to trendy
The idea of friends and numbers
Threw me to the ground
Figured we'd crown 4 quarters instead of 100 pennies
Swede shoes, silk shirts, and bentleys
By some is defined as plenty
While little Lenny with stomach empty dreams of Denny's
Or some water or a Father would help immensely
Afgani blowing and Hennessy gulping MC's
Take their aperture and narrow it densely
Make millions off the Emmys some how erases Memories
Of pennies struggling in this world
Mother fiend'n they're just fending
Against the many
In class they're considered lowers
Below us they just a penny
I say our morals need reordered
cause no doubt that they're all Quarters
And deserve entry into this bank of respect
That has become run by hoarders
Loving to build borders 3 times the size
Of their self righteous shoulders
This is a disassembly of a culture surrounded by sentries.
Jan 11, 2012
Jan 11, 2012 at 12:32 PM UTC
living off
of apologies and time
spent in desperation
recollecting and reflecting
on where
all of the good vibes went
then
I may have smoked them.
underestimating my
control
of the situation
like I'm not
educated in protecting
my Peace
and healing my whole
mind, body
and Spirit
deflecting questions of
my integrity
all
because I prefer
complexity -
it takes me
three lefts
to make it right.
also some
times
I have to remind
myself
that it's okay
to cry
boiling hot emotions
got this little black kettle
singing high
currently
I'm choking
on the
hard pill
of a broken home
..heartache
worse than a broken bone
this is admitting to myself
that
I could be traumatized.
True.
I need a
get away
like Lenny says
quick break
with Mary, Garcia
and Vega
the only chance I ever get
to take flight.
in all Honesty
I am really
tired
of people
pushing me
and pulling me.
college drop-outs
they think
they schooling me
they are
tools to me.
Shorty,
swing my way
with that hammer
No
I'm not
driving for that *****
some say real
Love is
Black
some say it's
blue..
I say it's both
you know
the winners
always leave with
a little
bruise .
or two . .
or3 . . .
there probably may come
a time of day
where
you have to choose
whether
to lose
yourself
in this matrix
or
to fight
by your own rules
and well
Here
is to you,
my Little Light
your presence is proof
that some
times
choosing
True
Love is
the right thing to do.
May 4, 2022
May 4, 2022 at 1:48 AM UTC
So I will tell you a story,
Of a little party girl.
Who created her own world.
And in that world,
She was religion.
She was a goddess.
Her body was everyone's temple.
They prayed to her.
They prayed on her.
Her word was gold.
She ****** like a high class **********
She could never figure out why they all loved her so much.
Stargazing, naked, on the roof, with a bottle of tequila.
Falling in love with a magical mouse girl.
She felt like Lenny from Of Mice and Men.
She practically snapped her in two.
How can she be so powerful, yet such a mess at the same time?
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
He stands on the stage with muscles tensed and mind relaxed. His ability to perceive anything at once is employed. And there are twins in the hall, a frog in the toilet, and nowhere (out of sight) is the aphrodisiac named Lenny. A common misconception is the conception of any order at all, and everything you want to exist now, or ever existed, a priori: this is the meat-muscle, the excreting weener, of Cain.
"Nowhere, man," states the deaf mute with essence, "must have a musk, a muse." An Algonquin replied, "Stay away from that horrifying ontology."
The man on the stage is at the same time becoming less inquisitive, more unconcerned and fallow, and now he watches their amusement from off-stage!
Now, those poor, poor people on the balcony--watching him, recording every minute--they do not cow him, for he watches them as an aside only, for the figure on the stage rises, mimicking an immense marble statue. His spine stretches, as the calls of his own voice call out, in his own voice emit, for the figure on the stage, especially when he calls, little or no recognition. The only voice, obviously, is this unrecognizable, willful voice that once belonged to him. Although it cannot be, it can. Although it is not possible (that it is not), it is. His personal translation beckons concern.
With all his initial reactions lost, no longer won, no longer controlled, he is, by those very two filters, totally unmediated. But steadfast guile and limitless misery become his (one-two) weapons. The elations, employed at last year's performance, are absent. Crying, he becomes, just as defeated as a whim. But his legs move around, and he jives and jives and jives, like a crazy set of legs, as if almost no technique is being spared. Tonight. Tonight he is earning his pay. Pray. Prey. Tonight! But only a willful moneymaker, a master of his control, in this reality, earns him his pay.
"Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing! For I'm praying you!" screams an old man in the orchestra pit, "For I'm paying you with my best! Tonight! In all ways, I am yours!"
The dancing marble man looks up. He looks at the world. And from the smoke, a seed believes its lofty purpose lost, in a mournful message, in a reluctant admission to that unforeseen realm, of communiqué.
Jan 17, 2010
Jan 17, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
Let's play word association, brain
Sure
Anger
Carrots
Vegetables
Parachute Pants
MC Hammer
Sub Prime Mortage
Are you even trying?
Nicolas Cage. Oh wait...that one actually made sense
You can be an ******* sometimes
Says the guy playing word association with himself
...Touché
Lenny Bruce
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 1:35 PM UTC
There once
was a chicken named
Lenny
who came from a long line of hennys
on one afternoon
he said shoo fly shoo
then picked from the floor
2 pennies
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 6:45 PM UTC
Now let me tell the story of a guy named Lenny
He had a grumpy goat and a year-old penny
He wanted fifty-thousand shiny trucks with cheese
But all he ever got was his Grandmother's fleas
He begged for a book so he could learn how to cook
And the grumpy goat ate him while he called out "Look!"
So the moral of the story is don't own goats
That get hungry easily and run off with your boat.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
Adam4's acquaintances who frequent
Foxholes as salivary soliloquy,
Usually suspected no second helpings
A dim ambience for an active bedroom
On battery powered candles
Concorde lighting
The carpet's edges chewed thin
Receding hairlines
And he uses me as bait..?
Our neglected puppy's teething
Nesting under California
King Mojo's hollowed cushions
Keeps him gnawing these nights
Misters and oil burners
I was mistaken, there are those
That revisit--reacquainted with him,
Must of shared a Starbucks,
As his Sasquatch hands
Rub wet platinum on his old fellow
Bears and their Cubs
Silicon smooth pets, house boys
Fished from the deep web,
Plagiarizing with their eyes the pleasures
Of Eurocreme
Bare back dreams, hours heave
The subtitled felatio scenes
I tell the old man, they only ***
After and mostly when
Most of the guest leave,
There is one hovering quick
To accommodate his
Ginger manly girth
I'll be out in the smoking section
At the side of the house
Through the slider door
From off the kitchen dining area
Where he had once
Replaced the table with billiards
For a Lenny and his troop...
His Samsung vibrates every time
I take a five to breathe
Chain smoke and self defocations grief
He posts another ad.
If only you heard
The vagrant shout
A banchee in my skull
For these off the street urchins
Plugged in to the internet's latest
For a place to squat
For winter will be cold
For them to just
****** off
And here I go again,
Assuming that these were decent folk
Come for the holidays
Between taint and pocket rocket
Wallets drain
When one lets the desperate
Indigents
Free range...
"What's there for dinner?"
**** chicken heads again?
Same ole same old dope...
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
Seems so long ago, Nancy (Leonard Cohen)
It seems so long ago, Nancy was alone
Looking at the Late Late Show through a semi-precious stone
In the House of Honesty her father was on trial
In the House of Mystery there was no one at all
There was no one at all
It seems so long ago, none of us were strong
Nancy wore green stockings and she slept with everyone
She never said she'd wait for us although she was alone
I think she fell in love with us in nineteen sixty-one
Nineteen sixty-one
It seems so long ago, Nancy was alone
A forty-five beside her head, an open telephone
We told her she was beautiful
We told her she was free
But none of us would meet her in the House of Mystery
The House of Mystery
And now you look around you
See her everywhere
Many use her body
Many comb her hair
And in the hollow of the night when you are cold and numb
You hear her talking freely then
She's happy that you've come
She's happy that you've come
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 7:33 AM UTC
I be illin'
The bones in my body be chillin'
The dope that I'm slingin' be killin'
Zig Zag fillin', 40 zoner swillin'
I got twenty...got a five, bro? I'll cut you in!
I got twenty...got a five, bro? I'll cut you in!
I've bought plenty on the live wire, where you been?
I'm walkin' too straight 'n' I'm eatin' my mashed potatoes
L.A. hoes you don't wanna know
Keepin' my toes warm
See how they swarm
They're like bees when they tease me
With their slingers, humdingers
My epiglotis is a-stingin'
And my uvula is swingin' back and forth
Twenty, son, back to four twenty
I get away with a wounded knee massacre
I say what I please, Lenny Bruce on da juice
I ain't no racist
I'm a future born Papist
You got to listen to me
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
Lethargic energies found on the corner street
Dreams devoured by their caustic cigar
Infatuated with not what to eat...
All the seek is the next bottle of liquor
The women selling mealies and vetkoeks
Hoping for at least, a penny
The kids are back from school but too hungry to entertain books
No wonder these kids grow to be as fatuous as Lenny
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
It is 1977, everyone is wearing the stone washed 501's
I haven't felt this way about America for months
Listening to Bowie with the smile on my face
Studying math and history at my own slow pace
The baby is crawling around the floor...
Weeing and cooing at certain moving objects
While the cat is being pet and being fed Chex
However that works, no idea...
He's an unusual cat, I must add...
Because when he got a bird, and it bled onto my plaids
I did not know whether to become enraged or plain sad
I breathe in and out
And stare out the window to stare at the clouds
Berlin looks so nice from here
I spent the whole night smoking Marlboro Lights and drinking my beer
Seeing soccer on my tele, all I can do is cheer
All my bad thoughts and horrible feelings suddenly disappear
Sally is saying she is turning her back on religion
And goes outside to feed the pigeons
She introduced me to ****** on Wednesday
And I shot up all through Thursday
Then Lenny got a job back in May
And because of my drinking problems, my wife decided not to stay
I went to court and now I have custody
My children will never be taken away...
[Note: I wrote this poem hours before listening to Berlin by Lou Reed, which has been called the most depressing album ever, they were right, but it can lose it's effect if you listen to it repeatedly...This poem is inspired by the album and it's elements and themes...]
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 4:47 PM UTC
Lenny! Smile for me!
He does so, the grin on his face
Better than his cries of despair or just subtle disgrace
He sat down, on the beaten up woven couch
Took out five cigarettes from his pouch
Halfway, he stared at the television, I knew something was wrong
Lenny has not been like this for so long
I nudge him, filled with worry
He smiles at me and reassures
Walks outside to look at the birds
I sit outside on the ***** couch, he tries to jump off my roof to get a kestrel
I laughed, told him to get off
He spent the whole day looking at this moth
It had such vivid colours and it appealed to me
Then I tried to catch it with my hands, it just had to flee
I watched it fly away into the dust and the air
Lenny burnt himself again, a sudden act of despair
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 6:33 AM UTC
let me into the stream of humanity's mumblings
this emotion thick on my face
my words live
fill the pages
yet i remain an empty vessel
a winterbound torn down dark amusents
of self sabotage
strife and the wonderful treasures
the sweat pours
like an announcement of desperation
breathing in gasps
it would ease my sorrows
it would ease my soul
weary of the day
lets gather our wits about us
to make safe passage thru the
oncoming silence of darkness
your odd socks gather in the corner
along with half a dress
and a broken stroller
the child sleeps silently
headphones clears
battered noise
fire ignights
the long years unwind before me like a grand sketch
subtle and deep with mystery
unfinished portraits of long forgotten friends
surge forth like a strong breeze
and catch my sails
carry me forth into distant times
where something was shared
and a face comes clear...a place
lenny...the yard..
September nineteen seventy six...
a young striving for mastery...but it was because of....
but the sea is an unforgiving lady
and before i can see
what lay there
the memory fades
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 6:39 AM UTC
Merely 1 human.
Healing souls.
Love the black holes.
Where mysteries profound.
Evidence for one to see.
Love rebound.
Where will you be,
When we release,
The hell hounds?
Devastation comes,
On little kitty feet.
The dogs of war,
Are what we meet.
Time to heal,
Future pain.
Where will you be?
When?
It is time.
For;
Lenny's love,
To reign.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC