"maxed" poems
I remember when MTV was in its prime,
A new voice to represent the new boom
Babies growing up since the 80s
Louder still through the troubling decades
(Maxed out credit no head room)
After —the punks in nirvana and rapping clergy
It was the only channel on
Youthful rebel yell —honest news
I remember it pretty well
Shaping us generation x y and Personal Jesus
New wave good bye to when
Childhood then without pain of malnourished
Africa or nukes threatening our
Cruel summers
Were we happier then?
So what happens to the music
Rockstars rip van wrinkle
Geriatric hall of fame
(No one lives forever
Reruns with the ****** & mr. Ed
Now that old neighbor’s dead)
Television
Nowadays
Seem more gangster
School shootings terrorists
On the train, kamikaze planes,
It’s all the same ole
Bling kablam oh bits
******* please
Redirecting our attention
To WMD
***
Where the hells are we?
I remember back then
On MTV —Nicki Minaj says
Between the hysterics of police brutality
She said Happiness is living your life
Without struggle,
That stuck with me
Because we all watch the tube
We all search for meaning
Sadly defining what happiness
May look like
Real World and paradoxical reality
TV
Para socially defunct
Clarity
Conditioned to continuously
Stay tuned
Brief message of empty
Hypnosis a pure form of business
Wall Street
Boulevard of broken dreams
I want my
Happy. What do I mean
To be?
Life ***** lately
The human condition
Talking too much
Refusing to see
No more talking heads too much
Bla bla ********
I want my
MTV . Happy .
My generation
We are the world
freedom And yes, Peace.
Man kindly as one
Symphony
And street, a melting ***
Of diversity
I remember the music
The future
I had hope to see
Behind the shades
Circa 80s 90s
(Fossils)
What time is it then?
When will we
Begin
Again
Don’t worry be happy
Run Forest run!
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC
Cigarette smoke
Wheels no spokes
Board rollin down alleys
Late night skate
Let me escape
The life I never planned
Never on time
You best lower your expectations
Snortin molly in the bathroom
Chuggin ***** in the hall
I could be anywhere at all
But I’d still crawl
back to the clutches of dependence
I forfeited life's race in the first lap
Yet I'm still trapped
Coughing up blood
I strive for nothing
I don't want to feel
I long to be free
From society
Our culture has maxed out
So now everyone wants to shout
for help because what the world wants
Is unrealistic
We try to overdose
And become comatose
To drop all worries of material success
Those
Stacks on stacks on stacks
Racks on racks on racks
We forget
its just paper
Not what defines us
The rest is up to the people
To rise about the atmosphere
Of atoms and mold supportive molecules from the elements we're presented
Not corrected like a sent typo
To your mom
Or boss
Control
Is unattainable
Fathom the slack of a slacker
Loosen your ropes
And walk the plank
With no hopes of disaster nor triumph
Determined
To just be
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:31 AM UTC
rite like Dylan/past the point of no return
all my life wanted to rite just once like Dylan.
but too set in the errors of my way to complement/compliment a master of the phrase, the original tunes I hum’em all
plagued and plagiarized and yet pleasing
head the Head over to the refrigerator, arrive in one piece,
but totally not remembering why I came this way,
cause i am way way past the point of no return
Oh yeah oh yeah cool brother Corona light to succor the soul,
while roasting body slow in a lavender bubble bath and it ain’t
even noon and no no room for company, this solo wonder-boy
tripping alone
pay my bills in the bath, winnow the widow-maker reading list,
good ****** on a free sundaey and there ain’t no football to watch and autocorrect authority don’t like ****** it only godded one D, as if He needs two D’s to mess us up better
the Corona doing magic trick disappearing so fast and here i am
certified past the point of return and there ain’t no more beer
in the general vicinity
so now the time to summarize my little darlings;
don’t break beer bottles in the bathroom,
don’t pay your bills in the bathtub when u gots 53.42 in cking,
don’t take your iPhone unsheathed into the same vicinity
all you will be left with is maxed out cc’s,
messes you want
not to tangle with,
brain leavings of a bad poem half write,
it isn’t even bad dylan mimicry
but confirmation you passed the point of no return
and u happy hum
don’t think twice it’s alright
it is all on my cover photo
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC
Decimating Destitution
Ravaged wreckage,
Ruins and rubble,
Depressing debris,
Ashes about,
Sky soaring shroud,
Misery maxed,
Fallen freedom,
Corroded cache,
Pillaged poverty,
Explosive extremities,
Covert corruption,
Dystopic dynasty,
Unknown utopia,
Infinity is inept,
Forsaken faith,
Rejected religion,
Cataclysmic calamity,
Decimating destitution.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
He itemized his medical bills,
Maxed retirement deductions.
He's given cash to charities
and Democratic functions.
This scion of the one percent
knows its his cash they're after.
Manipulating tax returns
will keep him the last laugher.
A death this year is profitable
before tax cuts expire.
While he'll probably miss his parents
Still he set their house on fire.
He hates to see the old place go
but still he watched it burn
while thinking of deductions
for the Estate tax return.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 9:42 PM UTC
This is a lateral Christmas, my dears,
The reasons for red-nosed reindeer,
Rudolph was on the ***** my dears,
Santa and Rudolph loved Christmas beers,
You could see it in their faces, dears,
Rudy and Santa were dipsomaniacs,
They drank all the ***** in Santa's sacks,
But worse, Santa's in a stroke unit, we fear,
We knew it was a bit hard,
For gifts, Santa maxed out his credit cards,
Red cheeks meant high blood pressure, we fear,
There's worse, Mrs. Santa was a real *****
She drank all the eggnog with Rudolph and Blitzen,
The drunken elves kept all your gifts for their party,
They drank all your Christmas bevvies, party hearty!
There's worse, Christmas fairies live in fear,
They did ask Santa one year,
"What to do with the trees, Santa dear?"
"Wait and see!!" roared Santa, O dear,
There's a fairy with a tree up her blip here,
Now, Santa's in the Stroke Unit this year,
Folk at the North Pole, too much Christmas cheer,
So, there's no Christmas on Earth, my dears,
This is the lateral Christmas year...........
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
Acclimate away you accustom to rabble streets, calculate thy cantankerous beef with another diabolic past!!
Destine connoisseur,
Old things get older while thy love stays newer!!!
What a hope to hope for something!!!!
Bare faced sophomore,
Soporific enducing trips to styles of maxed out galore....
Domineers on every corner,
Where youngest of mourners art ourn own children,
Gravitational to all pull ins,
Guided by ourn own sins we set our own adversities!!!!
When wilt we climb out of ourn own hutch?
Our brittled bunch doesn't think of two but one!!
Jilt all thou will falsifiers,
Killers and liars,
Were all wrapped tight to the same metropolis line!!!
Okaying thyself?
Canst we OK what's wrong and not fine?
Schzoid scribble ******* in,
Undeniable on planet green earth!!!
Underhanded,
Diploma drop ins,
Morphine moratorium so Grey thy sounds are!!!!
Yet thy smiles so beautifully wide!!!!!
Seek as thou finds,
Find all though you mayeth hide!!!
The scorch is over to be bear!!
Where is the opulent Queen who I seek?
Yet hasn't found me yet...
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
anger should be expressed
not held up in your body
that only creates a huge mess
but the only thing i think of
when i see those red words
is the time when the tv
had to be so loud
it would drown out the screams
of my parents voices,
yelling at each other
that was my safe place
a maxed out volume on a tv
on a paisley print couch
watching a 90s show
now the only safe place i seem to find
is the one where my headphones blare in my mind
or when i’m at a concert
second row, or barrier crowd
the bass so loud,
all those red words
they seem to disappear
there’s days i can’t have that
and those days i explode
those days are the days i’ve been coded
disassociated
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
I once wondered what the Devil reads before he goes to sleep in Prada sheets
I found he wears white but feeds the least hungry
Go ahead and eat he told me, it’s food for thought food for death
I can’t catch my breath or brain they brought me here
One dance with the Devil done by 12 I feel so lucky
My bet with Judas just jarred the line call the ******
He stabbed the Devil’s back too but this time for a quid
We left to ***** and loot like teens with stolen credit cards
Maxed out and blacked out murderers with no trust
**** I must be Satan’s rebellious son.
Now reigning in the fire I bring the flames higher
Than they’ve ever been but my back wont be stabbed like his.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is biting my nails until I start to taste my fingers.
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is falling in love to quickly, like a clumsy school girl who always falls into her crushes arms, just to be dropped
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is getting rejected like a credit card that has been maxed out.
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is always saying the wrong thing. When ever I talk to a girl I become my secret identity : loser boy! My one power is repelling women away quicker than the flash runs around a shopping mall with a Visa card .
Everyone has a habit.
Mine is brushing my hair until it almost looks like something that I could love, my hair is a chain that links me to my skin color, like a slave hooked to an auctioneers stage. So I try to brush away my skin like getting rid of thick curls will change my heritage.
Everyone has a habit.
I have this really ****** habit of never being happy. I always pick apart things and find some reason to hate myself. Im always to tall, to black, to stupid. I can't be happy for long because when I do I destroy myself like an evil villains plot when he presses the self destruct button because he's lost confidence in his plan.
My biggest habit is smoking cigarettes made of sadness, and allowing depression to infect the rest of my body like terminal cancer. I can't recall if I smoke a pack a day anymore, it's a part of my everyday life. With every meal, movie or social interaction, I need a drag of sadness. There's this girl though, her smile is a nicotine patch, her voice is a message from my dr saying "we've found a cure, for your depression."
Now i can put down the pack.
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
Waiting,
Blood pressure exponentially increasing,
Walking into the back room,
Sitting in a plastic chair,
Waiting,
The latex gloves and metal rods,
Prodding and probing,
Mouth blood -Ick,
Nasty mint toothpaste,
More scraping and scratching,
Skin crawling,
Blood pressure maxed out,
Breaths quickening,
Thoughts narrowing,
Time slowing,
Metal tools dragging,
Slowly across white teeth,
Reminders to floss more,
Room darkening,
Pulse roaring like thunder,
Waiting for the end,
Gloves come off,
Handed a brush and floss,
Told to come back next week,
I need a filling.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
rag tag *** hag grocery bag in drag
maxed credit and bragging about having a stag party
farty party girls in shart coated pantyhose blow wasted kisses
to fisters in trousers bumping mump victims blisters
hitting wristers like the Williams sisters
coyote trickster with a brand new mix tape waits
with his **** taped to his own leg like Ricky Lake
on her fist date
another Cosby **** escape hot-plated shared space
I’m no racist cause my skin is white and pasty
I’m tasty and **** like Britney sans the braces insatiable
and my testicles are reckless needing spectacles
done wrecked the hull Captain Pickard
and a test-tube girl –
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
Professional Poem
1/14/2013
The shelves are full of papers.
My e-mail folder full.
Workload maxed capacity.
But still got more to do.
Each day the office seems to shrink.
Buried under business.
But each day my experience grows.
And with it comes persistence.
My confidence has gone out the roof.
As I dress up in tie and suit.
I wear my watch.
Look my best.
Never sloppy.
Slim-fit vest.
So here is my confessional.
The life of a new professional.
I kind of like the grueling hours.
and even the underpaid wages.
Because the more I learn,
The less I yearn.
For this happiness to become contagious.
Professional will save us,
from our lackluster lives.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
Here I am, no money and hungry again
The last few months have been tough
Money is short again.
I don’t have money to eat out
I should have made a sandwich at the house
But I don’t have any meat just bread
I collected bottles and cans the night before trash day
Late at night so the neighbors wouldn’t see
I turned them into the recycling center
Just to put $7.35 of gas in my car
I made it to the office
When it’s lunch time I just sit at my desk
Pretending I have too much work to do.
I’ve maxed out my credit cards
The office gal asked why I’m not going to lunch
She tells me to take a break.
“Okay you’re right” I say
I go to my car drive around the corner and sleep
I am hungry
When I go back to the office I’ll have more coffee
It wakes me up
I think about borrowing $20 for gas
But I decide I don’t want to
I’ll make it home
I drive back home on empty
My son is home from school
His class is going on a field trip
He needs ten dollars
I write a check I know will bounce
I make rice for dinner he is disappointed.
I told him I forgot to go to store, but I will go tomorrow
I put a lot of salt and pepper in it.
The phone keeps ringing.
We never answer it.
I tell my son I have to run a quick errand
I have a coin collection my father gave me
I drive to a pawn shop
They give me $60 for it.
Its worth $200.
It will cost me $91.00 to buy it back
I put $10 in my gas tank
I buy some cereal and milk for tomorrow
“Where have you been?”
“Sorry I didn’t think I would be gone so long”
We watch T.V. together
Just three more days
Just three more days until pay day
I’ll just make it.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
My heart empty
My trust gone
The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
The doctors and nurses maxed out
Can life still go on?
The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
The morgues and mortuaries over-spilling
In the City of Angels and lost souls
The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
I wear two masks, a smile and one of cloth
Life must go on
The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
As ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three
Happy new year?
In the City of Angels and lost souls
The hospitals are full
The ambulances all gone
as we ring in a "new" year and life must go on
The hospitals remain full
The ambulances still gone
as one, two, three, four, five, six friend and family we bury
as living death still stalks on
Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 10:58 PM UTC
It's hard to keep 'em open
It's hard to keep 'em closed
Those eyes of mine
Won't make up their minds
No flash, but I'll strike you a pose
It's hard to know what's coming
It's hard to not know, too
So I'll listen again
To the rain on my skin
Drop-drippity right onto you
It's crazy to put it in focus
It's crazy to lose the direction
But I know that it's near
(We're the only ones here)
We can try out our latest collection
Two dragons who can't breath the fire
Two monsters who make it instead
Four whimsical wings
Create mystical things
And keep on 'til they've been fully fed
'Cause that's when I feel it course through me
'Cause that's when the summit has maxed
And the way back to town
Is the only way down
Let's roll down 'til we land on our backs
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 4:29 AM UTC
I gave my childhood
to pain.
I gave years to something
that did not deserve it.
I gave my happiness to it
to instead of giving
it to myself.
I’ve been buying time on a
maxed out credit card.
My body is scarred
from trying to pay down the debit.
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 4:26 AM UTC
*a tab, a hit, a smoke,
lets roll, lets drink, lets ****
my pupils shrink, and then dilate
another line confirms my fate
such pure, unprecedented ecstasy
takes all my pain away from me
*a tab, a hit, a pill,
a smoke, a dab, a thrill.*
no judgement, fear, regret,
as we make another bet,
i can take another dab
if you can take another tab.
*too much, its done, too late
the addict has found her mate.*
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
My request and desire
Was for you to use my face as a seat
An insatiable hunger
Your southern lips
I wanted to eat
Tongue flat against your flower
Taking my ability to breathe away
I have given you the power
As things get more intense
I put my tongue inside
You pull my hair and push
My face you begin to ride
Your sweet nectar is flowing like a river
I can feel your thick juices
Running down the sides of my face
Pressing hard, you begin to quiver
Pleasure maxed, I push into you
Feeling your release
Brings me satisfaction too
When we are through
You taste yourself as you bite my lip
Into sated sleep we safely slip
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
The heat outside must be a result of the
General increase in emotion that sometimes
Follows summer, top down and
Music eased up and maxed
Out among the sunglassed groups
Flipflop tans and cool lake water
Rubbing on bronzing lotion that
Allegedly prevents tanning
Today is a day, is the day
For adventure and discovery
All to ever want a cove in which
To waste away each and every hour
Drink plenty of water, make
Plenty of love and you'll be
Alright my friend, alright
There's always the lemonade if
Heat should assume the role of an adversary
Sparring on the green grass
What better way to live?
And where are you, to wonder
I'll play louder for you
May 12, 2011
May 12, 2011 at 5:37 PM UTC
Saint Valentine's cards of cherubs wrapped
In red ribbons
Wresting In pockets Of a trench-coat lying removed.
Pulsating street lamps revealing glittering
Flecks of snowflakes lining tired streets
With skyscrapers.
We covet empty bottles thrown with the intention to shatter;
Watering up the lawns.
I'm dreaming of palm trees rough,
Sun-kissed, and swollen
Like bumblebees had stung them.
Shifting iris' from corner to corner,
Not missing any pleasurable encounter;
Sinking in ***** and choking In smoke.
Lines cut with maxed out credit cards and
Tokes from glass pipes shaped like octopi;
There's single roses and small
Teddy bears
Red hearts hanging from strings from the ceiling.
The wallflower with no significant other In particular,
Seems peculiar in
Contrast to a sparkling demeanor;
Apprehensive to be present, and trying to disguise It.
Everyone is stumbling, dropping their cigarettes;
Howling at the Moon and
Laughing wildly!
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
"You've a large malignant mass," the Dr told her. She appeared gaunt in the feeble glow of x-rays despite being more than a little over-weight.
She was full of words, good words, too but she said nothing at the news biting hard on her lower lip.
She paid for the visit with a nearly maxed-out credit card. She had never been sick like this before but she had to admit, at least to herself, that she always seemed a little broke.
She lived well, she thought, at least relatively.
But she'd been increasingly more self-conflicted lately and the sensation was that of a gaping and festering wound.
A part of her seemed panicked and another part didn't care at all and, more strange, from the recesses of her bowls, inflamed and angry, came an obscene and lustfully sneering cheer.
Her stomach was queasy. She wanted Jesus Chicken anyway. She pulled into the drive-thru, not for convenience but for anonymity. She ordered the #1, add cheese, with waffle-fries. She also requested several packets of mayonnaise.
She ate greedily thru the traffic with her middle finger ready.
She thought, thank God for speaker phone, and called a dude that tried to **** her at a party once because she knew he sold coke. She'd had gotten his number from one of the guys he'd been with that night.
She nearly screamed when he suggested that maybe they could work out a deal.
She heard herself say, "I'll be right over."
She pulled out a pack of unfiltered Pall Mall 100's, lit one, inhaling deeply, then choke-laughed unexpectedly when the DJ said, "this just in folks,
Democracy....,
she's dead."
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 10:46 AM UTC
Lord Forgive me,
I have talked about love,
I have talked
about love,
I have broken commandments
on my skin,
I have killed a thousand
dogs
in my mind,
I put arsenic
in Jesus' cereal,
I placed myself
at the center
of the world
and lit a match,
I have put my heart
in precarious positions
and called women
demons,
I have stolen $3,000
from my family:
credit cards
maxed out,
private stashes,
blacked out,
I even asked my own momma
for a few dollars
for something to eat
when you know where
I went; how I fed myself,
Lord Forgive me,
Lord
**** You.
Lord Forgive me
for ******* the You
in Me,
no born-again **** here,
I'm just placing a collect call
out to the galaxies,
please accept the charges.
Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 8:06 PM UTC
Visions are paired with -im's.
The eyes are
mouths of syntax maxed.
Ya know?
Yes of course you do --
The I's and We's are all elbows-n-knees,
Their voodoo looks are nooks
That hush the crannies. Look,
Don't you lecture me with your
Dictionary of dearth kept tableside
Like a biblical sigh
I know I know -- so there!
Crouching
Disavowaled owls eyes wide
shut up.
Yes yes, I know that
If I'm not careful,
These words will be
The life of me.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC