Thursday, February 28, 2013

Digital Paper

How often do we write in this digital age
Where electronics rule us until our dying day
Programmable tombstones, unatural internet desires
It's hard to suggest when PC gamers should shower
If we want to leave our unworldly life
Turn on a TV or go to the IMAX at night
While technology is all fun and games
Identity theft is seriously profane
Remember your 14,000 passwords
Or else be compromised by anonymous hackers
Shout out your disgruntleness in all caps
But relax since most people will change your facts
This information could be usuful
For young teenagers who are not fruitful
They enjoy talking with others about sex
With the opposite, obscene, and illegal through text
How often do we write in this digital age
I wrote this poem on a piece of paper


This seems to be very scattered, but it was fun writing on a piece of paper again. I haven't written a poem of some sort on paper in a long time. Normally, I use my computer or phone when I write stuff down. Most of the time, they are notes too instead of full length poems. The digital age is scary, so beware! Oh wait, you are reading this online, so maybe it isn't so scary?

I hope you enjoy!

The Devil Inside

The doomsday clock stopped
No more violence, no more pain
It is enough to drive me insane
To live forever is all but never
The conclusion, my fate
I tend to lead between the lines
Where soulless monsters dine
No one ever dies anymore
And it can be a real bore
If not for evermore and my minions
We do not travel much
But hunch is, violence and pain will soon return
Only one second has past
Someone has died at last


Not sure where this came from, but I feel it describes a persistent devil who enjoys his job; both figuratively and/or literally.

I hope you enjoy!

London

London Bridge is falling down
London calling to the faraway towns
I'm lonely in London and London is lonely so
We were in London
London half-life
Somebody's party in a London flat
Upon the dirty ground of London town
London's burning with boredom now
I don't want to be here in your London dungeon
In London, you're a goner
A London boy, oh a London boy
But I got, London in the rain
Last train to London, just leaving town


I believe this could be considered experimental poetry. Technically, none of this is written by me, but I did arrange them in a weird order. Each line is from a different song that talks about London. I thought it was random that I thought about doing this, but I think it came out nicely. I could have had more bands, but I think I get what I want out. The playlist is below:

London Bridge is Falling Down
London Calling - Clash
London, London - Caetano Veloso
London - Pet Shop Boys
London - Metric
London - Third Eye Blind
London Town - Paul McCartney
London's Burning - Clash
London Dungeon - Misfits
London Homesick Blues - Kinky Friedman
London Boys - David Bowie
London In The Rain - Jeff Beck
Last Train to London - Electric Light Orchestra

I hope you enjoy!

GOAL!

If I take you away to an empty apartment,
Would you sway or run out the door?
Touching you inappropriately gets me a yellow card,
But what happens when you throw up a red card?
Should I be the one sliding out the door,
Across the lawn, and into my black and white car?
Trust me, cleats to the face does not sound appetizing,
But it can be fun to get dirty every once in awhile.


Soccer references mixed with an old line from a song I used to like back in high school; this is what you get. I'm not the biggest soccer fan, but maybe I'll get back into it one day. I think I get my point across in this very short poem.

I hope you enjoy!

Corporations

When the door closes, where does the next open
Under a bridge, through the seams, in an outlook inbox
I check my mail everyday, anxious for opportunities
Jobs appear to have slowed down in my years of experience
No matter how often they say, "We like your spunk"
There is always a catch 22, a thirst never quenched
The main question that arises, "Where is your degree"
Though I have over 20 years of experience in my field
A degree is the sword and my experience is a shield
If obtaining both was stressed back in '83, I wouldn't be jobless
With only my shield to protect me for so long
The mighty sword could cut down other applicants
Applicants with more "spunk" who enjoy spelunking
Around for every job on the market
No matter how long the bridge is or how small the seams
They get the jobs meant for me
I've heard the old horse cliche, but being knocked down
Seems like the best way to stay bound to my soul


I had fun writing this one. I feel as if a job is so meaningful and it is hard to find one in our economy. I have been lucky coming out of college, and I'm happy with where I am, but it was hard. Stress did come into play, but knowing the right people did help. Today is the day I start my real job, let's how it goes well.

I will try to be up-to-date after today. I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Counter Intuitive

The counter sits two feet low
When you peer over it, time starts to slow
What will I say, what will I do
This front counter never bids adieu
A person could yell at you, fight back with desire
To receive more money unless it comes without penalty
Oh yes, this front counter, you will not be the end of me
I will overcome and help anyone who asks a question
Alright, come on down, the price may never be right
But at least I won't turn you around without a polite smile


Updating real quick since I'm about to get off work. This is just free verse and explains how I'm feeling. In other means I'm nervous and anxious since tomorrow is like my first day at the job pretty much.

I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Clean Up On Cloud Nine

The shoe click clacks (Nike brand)
While the bag stacker stacks (brown slacks, maroon shirt)
Whip whack, a whip back (crick in the neck)
A car crash into the grocery store (blue Camry)
People immediately yell (30 people)
While a ringing bell (fire alarm)
Goes on like a customers cell (iPhone 4s)
The retail store may not see a customer in ages (Mom and Pop's Groceries)
Everyone seemed okay (it's the end of the World)
Except for the driver who was in disarray ($40 suit, $20 shoes, $10 haircut, 5 drinks of whiskey)
He exits the vehicle and starts to sway (broken nose, bruised ribs, dislocated finger)
While hitting the ground he says: cleanup on aisle nine (cloud nine)


Not sure what this is, probably more so experimental poetry than anything. I had fun writing it and it took me by the halfway point to include the stuff in parenthesis. Not sure why I wanted to include it except for the visual aspects I suppose. I believe a reader will feel more involved if they know the little details that may not be important.

I hope you enjoy!

A yellow haired boy

A yellow haired boy
Flinging of seasonal shards
The sword is giant


I have a tiny picture on my desk of Cloud Strife in Mega Man form. While looking at it and researching the Haiku, I thought I would write one about him. If you know Cloud from Final Fantasy VII, you know he has yellow hair and has a huge sword. Those are his main features. He is my all time favorite character from Final Fantasy, and it was fun thinking up a Haiku about him.

I still have a lot to update. I think I can catch up by March 1st. I hope you enjoy!

Monday, February 25, 2013

A Lost Hope

Have you ever trained diligently where
The World never met you and your Hope
You lost Hope to play that instrument
You lost Hope to game
You lost Hope in general
This oddity can come at a moments notice when
You start to play a recital and quit midway
You start up a game and quit when covered in shade
You start up in general and quit
Once your Hope gets going, you tend to stop
Quitting is the name of your game
And it is a real shame that someone can be so famed
Quit everything and still have people cower in fear
The hypocrisy developed by you makes younger generations
Lose Hope at a faster rate
You make A New Hope have no real purpose
You make What Dream May Never Come
You make Bob roll over in his grave
Do yourself a favor and find Hope


I'm not sure where this come from. The more I wrote, the more I wanted to incorporate "A New Hope" so I did. I thought of other movies that would be fun to put in there, but I kept it short and sweet. Two movies that deal a lot with hope. I guess I could have incorporated "Patch Adams" if I wanted to...

I hope you enjoy!

One foot, two foot, three foot, four.

One foot, two foot, three foot, four.
What kind of foot do you adore?
A little foot, big foot, narrow foot, or
A flat foot, no foot, you want more?
A timely foot, simple foot, hit the floor.
A shy foot, ugly foot, crushed by a door.
A lying foot, dying foot, from a world war.
A shining foot, diet foot, by the seashore.
A laughing foot, folly foot, never a bore.
A hairy foot, shaved foot, always a chore.
Did you find what you were looking for?


I'm not sure why I get behind so much, but this time, I hope to catch up. This is about feet, not sure why... I thought of the "Red fish, blue fish..." Dr. Seuss story and went from there. Feet can be an oddity to most people. I'm not a huge fan of feet, but they get us to where we are going at least.

I have been pretty busy. My place is finally all clean, not if only it would smell clean 24/7. I believe based on its age, it could take awhile for it to smell like I want it to. Overall, I'm enjoying the place. I have darts tonight, so that should be very fun. I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Game Over

What's a loser without a game?
What's a poser without a game?
What's a practice without a game?
What's a master without a game?
That is life; entitled "Game."
Each piece moves to specific destinations
And your destiny is laid out before you
Which route do I take?
Which room should enter?
Unfathomable questions that need answers
Take the stairs that lead to the escape
Take the key for easy access irate
Take the sword, it's dangerous to go alone
There is an ungodly amount of life on the line
When it comes to the "Game"
Second chances act like 1-ups
Use them wisely or else "Game Over"


Free verse poem asking questions about the "game" of life. I thought this was pretty fun to write. I think it could have been better if I didn't take such a long break from writing (I had a meeting), but it does get my point across.

I hope you enjoy!

The Old Lady Break Dance

I walk into town and what do I see
A superficial woman clapping with her feet
I ask her what's up and she tentatively replies
I've fallen and I can't get up

Well, I pick her up and gave her a smile
She shock back a translucent style
"Ay man, thanks for the hand
If you didn't come by, I would still be on the land"

I grimaced and asked how she fell
Instead of a reply, she showed me the tale
She broke dance, right on the ground
I was impressed, this was profound

She did c-walk, and even walked on the moon
This break dancing woman was all about the opportun-ity
Before she bellowed over on top of her head
Her spinning was atrocious so danced instead

I showed her the ropes of how to spin
This is like spin class without the moral sin
I maneuver and shudder without blundering over
I could tell she was impressed not thinking I'm a poser

She helped me up and wanted to know
"How did you get down so low?"
Instead of appeasing to her simple question
I decided to rhyme my confession

"I decided as a young boy I would dance
And freelance whenever I get the chance
My education did me right, but I'm not ashamed
Of the fact of the matter is I'm attended for fame"

Without another step or single word uttered
The woman cried and reminded me of my mother
She gave me hug and said proudly
"I wish you were my son" she said loudly

We walk away from this interesting situation
Without looking back for limitless expectation
That old lady was cool and smooth as butter
The only problem is she reminded me of my mother


This was fun! I had no idea where this was going, but wouldn't it be cool to see an old lady break dancing in the streets? I'll be honest, I want to learn how to dance certain styles, but I'm always too shy to try. Maybe someday that I will change.

I hope you enjoy!

A Deceiving Truck

I'm in a pinch
Where salt will never cure my fall
I clawed my way out of hell
And dwell on any fruitful bird call

This should all go without a hitch
But I cannot tow this heavy load
To the next destination
I need a vacation across the devilish road

Listen to my perfect pitch
When I sing among the homeowners
A beautiful tone that insists
To be shown to all the blood donors


I needed to update my blog, so why not update it with a very vague poem? To be honest, I had nowhere to go with it, so instead, I used imagery to describe some things. In a way, you can relate each stanza to something real. I like to think that this poem is about a very deadly truck. Yeah, that's it.

I will hopefully have time around my lunch to do some updating. I apologize for getting behind, but I just moved into my new place, I have no internet as of now (hopefully I'll have some later today), and I have just been busy. I hope you enjoy!

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Where Am I?

A blundering compass never finds its way
To and fro it leads people astray
Go here and there, unfortunately everywhere
The compass is always walking on thin air
It stares at a watch all day long
Never competes, always wrong
The compass is surprised that it still exist
No body has crushed it when in a fix
Why does it say South when really its North
The compass never leads, it only moves back and forth


I have no idea how or why I thought of this. I find compasses as interesting devices. I'll probably suck at navigating with one, but they are still mesmerizing. Oh, the life of a compass must be strange.

I hope you enjoy!

A Dunk Contest

It's not a game when it comes to their fame
They try to rise above the masses
While covering their asses
And make the foolish spectators see
A real human being
With raw emotion
Sickening devotion
To once be claimed as the worst
They sit on the bench most nights
Surrender their minutes without a fight
But the more experience they gain
The better they will be when called upon
Practice makes perfect
But a practitioner of the sport knows when enough is enough
The spotlight shines bright on these young stars
Will they soar above the rim
Never wanting to come down again
Maybe land on their feet
And make their next feat prosper


I noticed that I need to update this, so why not when I'm watching sports. I believe this poem could capture the essence of some basketball players. I'm pretty happy that they force basketball players to compete in college before going to the NBA. While coming out of high school as a pro basketball player can be exciting, most are never ready. Now you see many people go to Europe to play basketball right after high school, then try to come into the NBA draft after a couple years. I find it strange that the players might not feel like they can handle school, when that should never be the case. School is very important and basketball taught in the states is much different than Euro League.

Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Moving to a new place, unpacking a lot and hoping that everything goes well. I believe it should be pretty exciting, but it will be a lot of work. I hope you enjoy!

Friday, February 15, 2013

Schindler's Fox

When a dove cries does a fox fly
No where in particular, unless perpendicular
Over the rainbow and through the woods
To the foxes home it goes
They are swift and unique
They love devouring small sheep
And never lose a leg on its prey
While they can be cute as a button
They never fear the glutton
Man wanting to kill them for fur
Toward the end of winter
When their tiny paws plunder
Into its next victim
Searching on Schindler's list


I'm way behind so I thought I would do a quick update. This poem is weird. I believe I related the fox as being a Nazi in some weird way. I think it is easy to understand once you read the final line, but it is very odd to me. It may not be completely accurate, but I thought it was fun.

I've been busy and hope to update more tonight. I should be heading home to finish packing up some stuff and will be moving this Sunday. I have no idea if I'll have internet around that time, but maybe I will? I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Not Enough Answers

Comrade, are you in waiting?
What news plagues you?
A new born you say?
(How precious...)
What news of your wife?
She's stable at least?
How long?
(I'm sorry...)
Do you know his name yet?
Which grandparent?
On your side?
(Continue the legacy...)
What do you mean run?
What is that in your hand?
Take cover?
(Bombs away...)
Comrade, where are you?
Can you hear me?
Why did this happen?
(Goodbye...)


With all of the stuff about soldiers lately, I thought I would write about one. I wonder if people who ask too many questions like this get on the nerves of fellow comrades? I think this would be more of an experimental poem only because of how many questions I have and the parenthesis. The thoughts of the other soldier opens your eyes a bit, I believe.

I will update another poem soon. I have been busy as usual. Sunday is the day where I start my life anew in a way. I am pretty excited, but really, I hate moving. I hope you enjoy!

Monday, February 11, 2013

Rhymdom

Stare up at the stars and what do you see?
Possibly an airplane or a Frisbee?
Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.
Try finding a boxer like Muhammad Ali.
Boxer or briefs? A question for a marquis.
All the kings men sank in the black sea.
Watch me swim, explained the banshee.
Not in your wildest dream, demanded the Judas tree.
Slappin' the bass like a hesitant Flea,
Rappin' in place like Talib Kweli,
Runnin' around like an illegal deportee,
Eatin' enough chocolate from Nestle.
Stare up at the stars and what do you see?
Nothing at all, except for that random tree.


Rhyming can be so fun and hard at the same time. I decided to base this poem off the complete randomness in most young kids minds. As you can see, I covered the basics: music, flying, swimming, and illegal immigrants. Life is full of randomness, it just matters if you think about it as much as me.

Well, I'm all caught up. I hope to update again tonight, but it will depend on how I feel after my darts competition tonight. I did well last time, let's see if I can keep it up! I hope you enjoy!

His Plan

The joyous tears stream down her eyes like wings
Fluttering in the distance and swarming
Around a cove where angels soar and sing
About a whimsical man in mourning.

The man was proud and enjoyed his light weight.
He carried his herd of frolicking sheep
And led them through a mysterious fate,
Where only demons and lords know such feat.

One sheep fell through a boarded up tunnel;
He wants to escape his hellish nightmare.
The man starts to bolt into this funnel.
His sheep must be close and conjures prayer.

The woman is approached by a strange man.
He dries her tears, it was part of His plan.


This is my attempt at an Shakespearean Sonnet. These are not easy and I was writing on the fly. Overall, I believe it came out alright, but it could probably use some editing here and there. I believe it is true to the form as well (abab, cdcd, efef, gg with ten syllables per line and iambic).

This is three for today, only a few more to go! I hope you enjoy!

Financial Aid

When I stare at the screen
It is hard to believe
That I am right where I'm supposed to be

Years ago it seems
I was going to achieve
My goals when they came naturally to me

It is fun to convene
Tell friends of my short leave
And return to them again even more serene

This new financial machine
I want to perceive
Is everything I wanted for my next scene


This poem is pretty easy to understand. It is how I feel currently at my new job. I love working here and it is crazy to think I used to work here years ago (I think I can you consider 1 1/2 years "years ago?"). I have a lot to learn still, but in time, I hope to be the best at my job.

This is update number 2 out of a lot. I believe I can get up-to-date 100% by the end of the day. I hope you enjoy!

A Post Today Keeps the Therapist at Bay

A post a day keeps the therapist at bay
But when life grabs hold of you
Everything seems to dwindle away
I have not kept my word
By updating each and everyday
But times are fast and life is in order
I can't wait for the next latter day
I will do my best to update today
So the masses won't rest and check each day
Hopefully, by May, this will start to update everyday


I am behind, VERY behind, so expect a lot of poems today. This is really getting hard, but sometimes life gets in the way. Not saying I don't want to continue this journey of poetry, but I have lots of stuff, more than I used to have. I hope you enjoy!

Friday, February 8, 2013

An Assortment of History

Is it any wonder when a wonderless situation
Becomes relevant again
Where the boutique shops blossom with
Feral children needing, wanting the next antique
The older the purchase, the more history evolves
And generation after generation is involved with
An odd assortment of goods
Buy a doll missing its eye or that can with rye
Written on every other side
Remember when sports memorabilia were
All the rage and cards were more collectable
But deteriorated with age
Pez dispensers always collected dust
Yet the product still exist and collectors fuss
About which year, how many, and why
Why does history keep repeating
Old products leave, new products enter
However, each product comes back in some
Shape or form where people enjoy purchasing
An odd assortment of goods


Second poem of today. This one can be considered as a Free Verse poem, which is just another way of saying Open Form poetry. I'm sure many people have been to antique shops. They are fun to browse around in and you never know what you will find. Near me, they have two amazing shops that I like to adventure in. It is weird how antiques interest me, but I believe many people feel the same as I do.

Work is slow today, but I am studying real hard and taking notes. I hope you enjoy!

The coo is only

The coo is only
a soft cry for attention.
Soar or hold them close.


Good morning fellow readers. I apologize for being so far behind, but today, I hope to make it up to everyone! First of the poems today is a Haiku. This one took me awhile, but I wanted to incorporate the word "coo." If you look up the standard definition, it can be noise made by both a dove and baby. I believe I captured enough imagery, but again, these types of poems are hard.

I have been very busy, so I apologize for being late to updating everything. I will try to catch up on everything today and be sure to keep an ongoing trend of updating. I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The Days of the Week

That day, it comes
When you least expect it
The end of the world is tomorrow
But then you accept it

Tomorrow is Monday
A mundane day

The next is Tuesday
A tyrant of days

The following is Wednesday
A willingness implores

It is finally Thursday
A thirst for more

Friday is here
Finally, the finale

Saturday approaches
Sleep long days and pleasant nights

Sunday happens
Seeing is believing

It's Monday again
A mundane day


Don't you just hate some of these days? Today has not been a great day for me, but I'm getting through it the best I can. I still have a long while until this day ends, but tomorrow, by my poem, will have lots of willingness right? Sigh, I wish it was the weekend already.

Yesterday, I had my first competition with my darts crew. I believe I played well and it seems like that yesterday night was so great that today just had to be bad or something. Oh, how I loath some days. I hope you enjoy!

Monday, February 4, 2013

Picking The Write Words

A pickle picker plucks purple people pungent to people-eating creatures
While people-eating creatures create constant chaos confusing other liaisons.
The liaisons lean left like little levees lurking over lifting brutish boxes
And each brutish box became bitter bumbling bees because mystical magicians.
Magical mystical magicians might meander through misty malleable woods
But would wood wait when willpower wants wacky well-oiled pickles?
A pickle plucks purple people pickers pungent to people-eating creatures.


One more update for today. SO MUCH ALLITERATION! This was really hard since I had no idea what to write really. I think it turned out...weird, but that's fine with me. I especially like what I did with the final line if you really look at it.

Lunch is almost over, therefore, back to work. I hope you enjoy!

A Lunch Debacle


A dialogue breaks out among the masses:
"Who took my lunch?"
The longer we wait, the more time passes:
"It was a couple of pizza slices."
Nobody can leave until she puts on her glasses:
"One was pepperoni and the other sausage."
I am in a rush and run for the passage:
"Stop, you thief, I know you have it!"
Now at the door, being followed by molasses:
"Stop, you thief, or I'll..." They fall on the floor.
What they don't know is that I know what happened:
I ate the pizza.


Well, I'm at lunch and a coworker was going to heat up pizza. I thought, why not write about pizza and someone stealing the pizza. It's funny, but I can visualize this entire dialogue in a break room. The yelling, the running, the old woman trying to catch the perpetrator.

I shall try to do another update here in a bit. I am a couple behind, but I will be caught up soon. This past weekend was great, couldn't have been better. I can't wait for next week. I hope you enjoy!

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Living for the City

When you live for the city
How does it make you feel
Do you take your living situations for granted

When you loath for the city
How does it make you feel
Do you take to the streets and act like a phantom

When you learn for the city
How does it make you feel
Do you take classes at your community college

When you lean for the city
How does it make you feel
Do you take the left or right side through the foliage

When you leer for the city
How does it make you feel
Do you take the town next door, pillage and rape

When you live for the city
How does it make you feel
Do you take just enough wonder to escape


This was fun. If you didn't catch on, this could be considered an ode poem. Stevie Wonder inspired me on this one. His song "Living for the City" was playing in the background, so I thought about how I could write a poem about it. In a way, it follows a rhyming pattern, except for the third and fourth stanza where I had a near rhyme instead. Do you live for your city?

Well, I may update once more tonight, but I'm pretty exhausted from today. I bought some stuff for my new apartment and packed some stuff up. I'm one happy man. Tomorrow is going to be a great day, I just know it! I hope you enjoy!

Jazz Hound

Unwrap your conscious and stare
Directly into my soul
Your eyes can play tricks on you
Listen to my Thelonious Monk and Nat King Cole

How I love the sound of jazz when
You walk through those doors
The spotlight hits you and
My soul does flips and I leave those whores

Before you belt and let out
A tremendous sound
I like to take a deep breath and
Listen to the meandering crowd

That man said, "Well isn't that something"
A woman yelled, "Belt that something"
The others start to chime in
As if this performance meant nothing

I hear you loud and clear with
My heart dying on your every sound
Can this be real life
Or am I just a jazz hound


I haven't updated in a couple days, so be prepared for a lot today! I had no idea where this came from, but I guess it came from my head? I do enjoy Jazz music and hope to visit New Orleans some day. I used to play it back in high school, but I was never that great. When you find the perfection instrument among a band, it can be absolutely amazing.

I'm currently in my home town right now. As always, I'm pretty busy, but I hope to update periodically; better than I have. This blog is much harder than it seems, but my mind is always open for new poetry. I hope you enjoy!