It has been said by many
that  
practice makes perfect.
Do not force it.
It usually comes out horribly.
Many people have told me,
"keep writing, you need to write everyday."
The problem is...
I have nothing to write.
I would rather get day drunk and
watch reality TV.
Sip on a Seven and Seven
wacth the day pass me by and
misspell words, not giving a ****.
Yes, watch is misspelled...
That's the funny part.
I won't pretend that I am an even a decent writer.
I get drunk,
**** people off,
make bad decisions,
regret those decisions,
promise myself that I will do better,
plead with the Almighty that it will
never happen again.
In the end,
I have stories to tell,
but no voice.
Start on a poem
and walk away.
Read the last chapter of a book
because I am a literary rebel.
No.
I am just lazy
and I hate surprises.
I am not a starving artist.
My waistband has expanded.
Let's be honest
I'll never be famous
and this is the longest poem
I will write in the coming week.

Circle Circle
Dot Dot
This dream of mine has been shot.
This nursery rhyme is no longer
a good time.
The lights are dimming.
The sexes are mixing,
exposed to the epidemic.
Everything is becoming a work of
spin art.
No medicine can provide a vaccine
for this lifestyle.
Circle Circle.
Dot Dot.
Endless cycles of not.

Looking at the frozen rocks,
trying to decide what
is so beautiful about them.
There has to be something.
Beauty is in everything.
They glisten in this clear January day.
Thousands of them
sitting there.
Mysteries unsolved.
That is why the Gods
laugh at us.
We turn nothing into
nothing.
Our grasp on the infinite is
already so thin.
Every rock must be turned over.
The beauty is elusive.
That is the beauty.
Staring at these rocks
help make us understand what
might happen to us.
Carefully observing the universe spin,
traffic lights change,
birds fly overhead,
these rocks unfreeze.

Watching the concrete waves
overtake the painted yellow lines
adrift in a sea of construction and
chaos.
Head swirling with
diluted dreams of grandeur.
The world is starring at the stars,
hoping
that they dont shoot across the sky.
No one wants wishes to come true.
What would humanity have to strive for
if all the magic became reality?
The veil pulled off
and the grass changes colors.
Just remember
chaos was once
order.

Sitting in a bar.
A beer with perspiration.
Its raining outside.
Hear the shuffleboard shuffle.
Intoxicated poetics.
Sober state of mind.

Stools shrouded in mystery.
Double doors leading in.
Bartender’s creations. (chemical concoctions)
Saloon of slumlords and hipsters
Open mic night.
Hippie Howls.

Don’t worry we got this under control.
Malboro reds, cowboy killers.
Don’t spend you life wishing,
Spend it living.
Better yet, spend it drinking.
Liquid courage. (men becoming beasts)

Awkward rages.
The best is coming.
Shielding secret shame in this scene.
Hidden in a pint of pilsner.
Free thinkers in a haze of hops.
Lets get drunk.

Make shift graveyards on the walls.
Honoring the dead.
Rest in peace.
Nothing less, nothing more.

Old Heidelberg.
Before my time.

The stalls scrawled with graffiti.
For a good time call.
Scratched onto the stall.
“Spread love like butter on a hot bun”
Sherlock and Watson.
Bromance.
This is a bar of friends.

What is this bar?
Drunk off this atmosphere.
Window panes with neon signs.
Disillusioned.
Concealed.
Unfinished.
The moves fast and goes right by.
Springing forward without a shadow of a doubt.
Members of the Great Unwashed.
The signs of our time.
I think we’re going to split.

Can I get another drink?
One for the road.

Don’t cut me off quite yet.

Play your cards right
Put on a mask to hide
Stacked deck
I speak lies
Fluently addictive
I’m infected with the soul
***** tonk hip
Broken record stuck on repeat
Hit me.
21 bust
Dealer’s choice. Counting cards.
Gambling addiction
One last chance to win at this lifestyle.
House always wins.
All in.
Out of control.
Runnin the table for brief seconds.
It’s gone.
Laid down everything on black.
This is how I live.
Just an honest man in a gambling world.
Juggling priorities.
Impulsive. Instinctive.
Alive.
Pop the bottles,
Full throttle.
Pedal to the metal.
This ride doesn’t stop.
Commit to it.
Makin money, spending money.
Just hoping to break even.
Break the bank, crack the casino.
We learned on the streets.
How to play this game.
Betting on games we know we can’t win.
These lines will end you in bread lines.
Doing it on the soul purpose of chance.
Will you ever know this lifestyle?
Seemingly scheming.
Flipping cards to the end
Royal flush.
Trapped in casino bright lights.
Just trying to find out what its all about.
For better or worse, I’ve been changed.
Lets **** this world up,
Before it repays the favor.
You’ve gone past gone to far
In deep.
I see possibility in failure.
The best of both worlds.
Collision course.
Make a bet.
Throwin’ down the table.
Snakeeyes.

We
are the people
Igniting the flame
Breaking the chaos of the repetition.
Playing through this game of life
Trying to find the experience
Sliding into the grave
This is our fantasy
We live it everyday
Places to be,
People to see.
We’re never growing up
Dancing through life.
Graceful.
Precise.
Lost.
This is our final request.
Abuse.
Back then it was called making a man out of ya.
Blind folded, hands bond, cigarette on mouth.
Facing my ****** expectations of self-image.
What would you have us do.
You’re a king with no crown.
We all dream of heroics
But it fades in our memories.
We’ve have forgotten the dream.
This is a conversation between you and me.
Gazing at the stars.
This is our choice.
Living from day to day.
Minute to minute.
Focused on the ever-changing present.
This is our story.
And it goes a little something like this…