Sunday, March 31, 2013

Selling Nonsense

Talking's my game
Selling is my frame of being
I take a product, exhale
And sell the living crap out of it
Do not fear, since you are getting the better deal
You don't have to go door to door
That's my job
You don't have a wife and starving kids
I provide for them
You don't have to worry about competition
I sell my product to the middle class, upper class and any willful whore
That's right, I do my best
When it is not enough
I wear a different vest
If my shoes look scuffed
I steal another pair for my child
My hair always seems fit for every occasion
I can be dapper, look poor, or sound like a tour guide
My language's expand to the depths of hell
The degree on my wall is nothing compelling
I choose this job because I am good at it
I sell nonsense

Who is a salesman? Not me. I believe with enough practice, anyone can be a salesperson, but it is not easy. To bullshit about anything and everything is harder than working an 8 to 5 job if you ask me.

I hope you enjoy!

The Snake, The Apple, and The Child

Fruitful incantation keeps the snakes away
Unless it is an apple that has not fallen far from the tree
Someone will pick it up; man or woman
Dumpster dive and feel heart stricken
What is this new found knowledge
Why are my clothes torn every which way
Who was I and where am I
Questions only a solicitor would know the answer to
The aging apple never ceases to amaze the tiniest child
A thought conveyer, a snakes soothing way

At first, I wanted this to be about Adam and Eve. Next, I thought about a hobo. Finally, a child was thrown in. I believe this poem is more about thoughts than anything.

I hope you enjoy!

Friday, March 29, 2013


Boredom killed the radio star
Boredom killed the radio
Boredom killed the
Boredom killed
Boredom killed my brain cells
Boardem killt my brain
Boardem killt me 
Boardem killt
Boredom killed the Bored Dome
Boredom killed the Bored
Boredom killed the
Boredom killed

Yes, this is an experimental poem. Yes, I am bored. Yes, I'm losing momentum. Yes, yes.

I hope you enjoy!

Candy Haven

As I stare outside my cubicle
I dream of open caskets
Filled with candy
Tons and tons of candy
I will frolic in the candy
Laugh and eat as much as I can
People will loath me
People will marvel at my great quantity of candy
Will they consider this gluttony
But I do not care
Candy is my everything
It is my drug
My best friend
My life

Someone must really like candy. Is it a sin to love it this much? Probably.

I hope you enjoy!


You come
at will
And leapt off
the cliff
The breeze
persuades you
To fall
one way
You see
jagged rocks
While sharp
and piercing
You do
not fear them
The faster
you fall
the unknown
You cherish
this moment
You pull
your head up
your wings

Does a
make a sound
Before it
the ground

Poor, poor birdy. I hope it lived? I have no idea. I made this probably too vague, but I do enjoy having the lines structured the way they are. In a way, it is the bird jumping off the cliff and the stanza break is the jagged rocks. Crazy right?

I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Sailing Blind

I want to sail across the open sea
And see what my eyes cannot believe
Be it sunrise or sunset
I will see the open sea
When the gulls are singing
I will be ringing the bells at night
When the dolphins are chirping
I will be pertinent and yell to them
The clean air the sea admits
Is a beautiful aroma that seamen see fit
My mind is sharp when it comes to the sea
But one thing that I don't see
Is the everlasting sea

Poor, poor guy. He is blind, but loves the sea. This one is pretty sad, but a man can dream.

I hope you enjoy!

Walk and Talk

Totally tubular talking people stand at the edge of the world. They yell and yell, walk and walk, yet they never fall off and whirl. No tidal wave sucks them in nor create too much traffic; scoundrels, murderers, nice people too, the edge of the world is filled with people like you. Who are they yelling at? No one in particular. They just want to be heard. Once they reach the edge of the world, they keep on walking. Instead of falling, they go back to the end of the line; this entangle line that stretches across the North and South, West and East, where will it lead them, but to the sacred beast. Who is this beast you ask? Well, the person within who walk and talk.

This is a prose poem that I decided to mash together into one long paragraph. I believe it is pretty descriptive, but vague at the same time. I'm not sure where this came from, but I believe the first sentence made it all come together.

I hope you enjoy!

The Ides of March

The Ides of March looms
Backs will be stabbed in Spring dew
Who will be next, you?

A haiku for all the kids who like Caesar and the month of March. I'm still pretty behind on here, will I ever catch up?

I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Beat Around The Bush

Do you know how wonderful you are?
Yes you! You in the back!
I apologize if I gave you a heart attack,
But I do mean to harm you with praise.
You don't know how wonderful you are?
Well, let me tell you about it...
I will try not to 'beat around the bush'
As some of us say.
You should really know how great you are,
Even if the bar is higher than any exam a Lawyer would take.
You liked my pun?
I believe it was pretty punny if I do say myself.
Alright, now back to you.
The wondrous you who needs to know how
Wonderful thee is.
That's right, I threw some Shakespeare at you.
Just for you too.
To be or not to be, you are wonderful to me!
See, just like that!
It was that easy.
Now, about you...

When telling someone something, has this ever happened to you? Did they "beat around the bush" until they actually said what they wanted to say? If so, this is for you!

I hope you enjoy!

Caturday, in the Park

Caturday, in the park
Everyone is playing with cats
Caturday, in the dark
Everyone is playing with cats
People staring, people laughing
A little kitting dancing
While you sing it Jazz tunes
Can you fidget with it? (Yes, we can)
And we've been waiting such a long time
For Caturday

Look, a dog, in the park
Everyone is still playing with cats
Look, a dove, in the park
Everyone is still playing with cats
People glaring, people passing
Another cat collapsing
With all of its cuteness (cuteness)
And we've been waiting such a long time
For Caturday

Slow motion cats
Prancing around the park
A fat cat can still react
Meowing on its own
Listen children, to all the cats
To all the cats
Meow, meow, meow

Caturday, let's frolic
Everyone is playing with cats
Caturday, melancholic
Everyone is playing with cats
People sharing, people gasping
A real caterbration
Meowing in the park
Play with cats, everyday
Can they fidget it? (Yes, they can)
And we've been waiting such a long time
For Caturday

I decided to do something different and give 100% credit to Chicago (the band, not the musical). They wrote a song entitled Saturday, In The Park. You can sing all these lyrics to that and I thought it would be fun to talk about cats. I have no idea why, but it was fun to write. I did make at least one of my coworkers laugh while reading it to them.

I hope you enjoy!

Monday, March 25, 2013

Driving Down

Tell me, what it feels like
To back out the driveway
Head toward the dying sun
Just like the good old days

Sing, sing, sing obliviously
Ride, ride, ride to port Arthur
Lean, lean, lean out the window
Hide, hide, hide from the Moon light

Tell me, what it feels like
To speed down the highway
Head toward the rising sun
Just like the good old days

Ring, ring ring goes the church bells
Lie, lie, lie to a friend
Deem, deem, deem what's important
Tie, tie, tie the unraveling shoe called life

Tell me, what it feels like
To fall face first anyway
Head toward the black outed sun
Just like the good old days

I'm way behind and I'm not sure I will be able to catch up. This was fun to write. I was singing a Young the Giant song in my head when writing this. I think it syncs up well!

I hope you enjoy!

Friday, March 22, 2013

He Shoots, He Scores

"He shoots, he scores!"
How often do you hear that?

During a close basketball game
With 3 seconds left on the clock
No timeouts and the team has to go the full length of the court
Put up a shot
And pray that it goes in for the win
Possibly a tie (in that case we have overtime)

During a close hockey game
With 3 seconds left in the period
No timeouts and the team has to go the full length of the court
Hit a slap shot
And pray that it goes in for the win
Possibly a tie (in that case we have a shootout)

During a close rivalry among friends
With 3 seconds to impress
No timeout and you have to make a move
Get a phone number
And pray that answers your phone call
Possibly a second date (in that case we have sex)

This was fun to write. Thanks to all the March Madness, I thought I would write this. It was fun! Hockey is not so much fun, but I'm trying to get into the sport. I can't think of any sports they would use this line. Soccer maybe, but I hate soccer.

I hope you enjoy!

Jocks Have It Easy

A tisket a tasket
Where is my lurking basket case
She never seems to go away
Unless an estrange stalker appears
It is super effective
Between a basket case and stalker
My life is pretty complete
I have two woman who chase me
However, they never liked each other
Both have so much in common
They follow me to my locker
Scrum the trash for my scraps
Take pictures when I'm not looking
Is this an obsession
Yes, it is
However, is it wrong for me to be
Obsessed with their obsession of me
It is all in good fun, right
While they hate each other
I love each one of them
My two followers make my day
Fulfill my dreams
And never go away

The Breakfast Club popped in my head when I was writing this. I know that jocks can be weird, but this guy enjoys the obsession. He isn't in love with the women, but wants them to love him. It is a very strange situation.

I know many of my poems as of late are free verse, but it is only because I have so many to catch up on. It is hard to do real forms when you are this behind. I hope you enjoy!

Do Those Dishes

Drip drip, drop drop
The faucet never stops.
Drip drip drop drop
Why not turn it off?
Drip drip, drop drop
Will the sink overflow?
Drip drip, drop drop
No one will ever know.
Drip drip, drop drop
The glass is much clearer.
Drip drip, drop drop
Like looking into a mirror.
Drip drip, drop drop
Will the dishes ever be clean?
Drip drip, drop drop
What is with this wet dream?

I need to wash my dishes, but I keep forgetting. Hopefully by this weekend, everything will be clean.

I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, March 21, 2013


It's just a crush
Not an orange drink or ice
But a crush among people
This crush is not like crushing grapes
To make a fine wine for dining
It's real, it's permanent, it's
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Yes, Shakespeare wrote about this crush
She my Juliet, I'm her Mercutio
No wait, her Romeo?
That guy who killed himself to be with her,
Yeah that guy.
However, that's not all I am: "that guy"
I'm more important and she tells me so
I'm not imagining this am I?
Paranoia is the first step when falling in love
Isn't it?

Talk about a crazy person in love with a woman. I thought I made some subtle references.

I hope you enjoy!

Pen Me

To throw a pen is like throwing a javelin
Distance doesn't matter, but listen to it twirl
The mighty pen can be a sword, my Excalibur
Though getting it stuck in paper is easily fixed
Compared to a giant ass rock, such bliss
If you leave the top off, it may dry out
Like a desert, a cotton ball, an open mouth
The ink can matter, if antimatter wasn't real
Black and blue is professional
Red is devastating and can deviate from words
One slash here, two slashes back
Hit a paperball with a penbat
When using a pen, use an imagination
Pens can be fun, said no pencil ever

I started writing this yesterday, so it seems a little different than what it could have been I believe. I was starring at my pen and thought about it, so I wrote about it. I hope I can catch up on here, since this is getting harder and harder the further I get behind.

I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

My Birthday

A day
Another day
An other day
A birthday
This day never seems to get old
But my appearance appears old
The older I get the wiser I am
The older I get the more I forget
The older I get...
A day
Another day
An other day
A birthday
What was I saying again?

Well, my birthday was a couple days ago and I'm very behind on this blog of mine. I thought, why not update with a poem where I forget based on old age? I'm not that old, but some days it feels like I'm 100.

I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Blue Shoes

Blue Shoes steps out of the blue Sedan
Blue Shoes wears ironed blue slacks
Blue Shoes has a new sleek blue belt
Blue Shoes would never wear black

Blue Shoes enjoys his tailored blue shirt
Blue Shoes flaunts his blue buttons
Blue Shoes wishes he could blue his face
Blue Shoes is a dime a dozen

Black Shoes approaches Blue Shoes
Black Shoes yells at Blue Shoes
Black Shoes steps all over Blue Shoes
Black Shoes walks away from Blue Shoes

Blue Shoes sheds a single tear
Blue Shoes blue shoes catches water
Blue Shoes slowly walks to his desk
Blue Shoes was late to work

I was listening to 1310 The Ticket this morning and the word "blue" kept being said. I believe that inspired me to write about "Blue Shoes." As you can tell, that is their nickname and they really love blue. It is also appropriate to say that I was nearly late for work so that inspired the ending. I was not yelled at or anything (boss is out today anyway), but when someone is feeling blue, they may shed some tears.

I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, March 12, 2013


Jerk, a word that has many forms:
Call me a Jerk and see what happens.
Don't Jerk the car you Jerk or I'll flatten you!
Why do your muscles Jerk from left to right?
You remember that soda Jerk from last night?
Jamaican Jerk wings, don't mind if I do.
Everyone do the Jerkin' in the streets at noon.
The Jerk with Steve Martin is an instant classic.
The House episode The Jerk had tons of traffic.
Before you clean and Jerk, make sure you stretch.
I love that Jerkin' the gherkin sketch.
No matter how many ways Jerk can be used,
Most men will be abused by the word Jerk.

I'm not sure how I thought of the word "Jerk." I think I was looking at some Jergens lotion and thought the word "Jerk" for some reason. After thinking about the word, I remember it having many meanings and references, so I decided to play off a list. I believe this is list poetry, but I cannot remember.

I hope you enjoy!

Where Are You Running?

Cracked fingers in winter,
Flared nostrils in the springtime,
Where are you running?

Recently, being sick and trying to get in shape inspired this. I've been trying to run every week, but my sickness might hold me back. Also, the title is inspired by Lenny Kravitz. He has a song called "Where are you running?" that I really like.

I hope you enjoy!

To Be Sick or Not To Be Sick

To be sick or not to be sick.
Asked nobody ever!
It is not about being sick
As much as I am sick of being sick.
Getting down with the sickness
Is for metalheads.
But being sick is a different ballgame.
This can remind you why
You love BASEketball since you are at home
Sitting on your couch
Watching the glorious movie.
Then you ponder, what if I did this?
What if in my sickness, I made a game.
A game better than that game.
A game that includes not only the
Baseball and Basketball elements,
But how about Football too.
You then realize fast how much you care.
The sickness has taken over you and all
You want to do is sleep.
Stay covered up.
Watch the sheep slip into your dreams.
Waking up every now and then
Blowing your brains out.
Not with a shotgun, but with a deadly weapon
A Kleenex.

I'm not feeling super well, so I wrote this. It was fun and pretty random. I feel like I could give this as a speech if I had to, but that's because I'm crazy.

I hope you enjoy!

Peel and Crust

Eat an orange peel and what do you taste?
Not so good is it?
Eat a banana peel and what do you taste?
Not so good is it?
Eat the crust off a homemade pie,
Eat the crust off peanut butter and rye,
Eat the crust off pizza as the bad guy,
Eat the crust off, bone dry.

Eat the chips before touching the queso,
Eat the pita before touching the hummus,
Eat the sandwich before touching lettuce,
Eat the mac without any cheese.

Food is malleable and requires a palate
That can exhaust its taste requirements.
What monstrosity is this when you eat
The crust off for pure bliss and tomfoolery?
There is a reason people do not eat the peel.
There is a reason people do not only eat the crust.
There is a reason people loathe and love food
Without the mistrust of obesity.

Well, this is weird. I'm not sure about this poem, but it was weird writing it. I guess I'm hungry and thought of food the whole time. I'm a little sick right now too, but hopefully some halls and airborne will take care of that.

I hope you enjoy!

Monday, March 11, 2013

Get Away

Reluctant and jarring
Filled with remorse
A steady course
Never short
Long trips
Steady wind
Increasing speeds
Parallel lines secedes
The course gets curvy
Hills start flying from
Left to right polite
Policemen staring
Keep constant
Speed slow
Get passed
Speed up at last
Where the sirens sing
Never filled with remorse
They follow you until the end
Of the course where the cliff falls
Off until oblivion and there is no going
Back to that pavilion where you decided
To cut off another citizen and they crashed
Into a loft where they are unconscious and you
Are the villain who almost got away until you drop
The police gets their man
Locks him up in prison
Reluctant and jarring
No working piston
A steady course
Start missing
No trips

Update here, but not sure how many today. This little bit of experimental poetry is about a man on the run. I made the lines as to show his speeds while driving. I think it is pretty cool, they look like hills to me.

I've been pretty busy. New couches in the new place and one of them should not have fit, but my friends and I made it work. I feel a sore throat coming on, I hope I feel better soon. I hope you enjoy!

Friday, March 8, 2013

The Old Cowhand and His Horse With No Name

A tall tale about a cowhand and his horse with no name
The cowhand never travels without his horse with no name

A belligerent calf follows his mother to the plains
He ropes Australian cattle on his horse with no name

Before stumbling out of the house without his liquor
He brings out shots of tequila for his horse with no name

The coyotes yip, jackrabbits jump, and roadrunners run
From the exuberant cowhand and his horse with no name

The old cowhand imagines roaming the Rio Grande
With his trusty companion, known as his horse with no name

This is considered a Ghazal Poem. I'm pretty poor at this style, but I tried my best. Each line should have the same amount of syllables and you end the lines with a repeating line in the first stanza and in the following stanzas, it ends on the second line; mine was "his horse with no name." If you haven't heard them yet, there are two songs that remind me of each other: "I'm An Old Cowhand from the Rio Grande" (I prefer Harry Connick Jr. singing it) and "A Horse With No Name." I had fun writing this, but it did take a long time.

I hope you enjoy!

A Stuffed Animal's Dream

A fulfillment of dreams escaped from a bottle
Shame was poured in, shaken in full throttle
The masses may believe in another idol
But one boy resides and starts to coddle

A tiny version of his hero, a magnificent specimen
The stuffed animal you couldn't imagine, pessimism
The boy stares deeply into its eyes
And speaks to it, nothing but lies

The boy proclaims he is the King of the Jungle
Rules over all young boys, but always humble
Anyone who stands in his way shall perish
Except for his mother who is the fairest

In the land of the living, the boy dismisses
Anything his stuff animal premises
All the stuff animal can do is stare
And wonder what happens when it endures a tear

What is this stuff animal? Is it everyone's stuff animal? Did you ever talk to your stuff animals? I believe many kids might do this, but may not realize when they are young. I had fun writing this and thought of a movie called "King of the Jungle." It was an old flick with John Leguizamo in it.

I hope you enjoy!

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is

The pillar in the dark streets
Pull a hooker closer
She wears red and looks well fed
And another perpetrator approaches

"Do you have the time" the perp asks
"Any time for you sweet" the hooker express
"Well, what time is it" the perp explains
"Time for you and me" the hooker pertains

The perp gets upset and starts to leave
The hooker examines and starts to follow
"Why are you following me" the perp in dismay
"You wanted me to follow you" the hooker refrain

"I never said follow me
I asked for the time"
"Your eyes said follow me
I gave you the time"

The perp speeds up
The hooker speaks up
"Come back"
"Get away from me"

This predicament continues down four blocks
Finally, the perp sees an officer
"Officer, tell this woman to stop following me.
I asked for the time, not service"

The officer looks at the hooker
"Do you have the time"
The hooker responds
"It is half past ten officer"

I had fun writing this. I purposely did not put any punctuation (except for quotation marks). It was fun writing it, but I feel bad for the perp...he had to find out the time the hard way. Also, the title is inspired by a Chicago song. The song has NOTHING to deal with a hooker in any way, but I think it would be fun to write this.

I am behind again...I know. Updating as much as I can as soon as I can. I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

Roses are red, violets are blue
Roses are mislead, violets are skewed
Roses are fed, violets are moo
Roses are unsaid, violets are sough
Roses are widespread, violets are construe
Roses are dead, violets are doomed

I thought it would be fun to rhyme a lot of words with the first sentence of the cliche "Roses are red, Violets are blue." I believe I could have gone longer, but rhyming those words is not easy. Also, I'm sure I would write another one of these, but change up the wording just to be corny.

I hope you enjoy!

Colorful Expression

Burning passion
Bright lights

Reality bites
Rift valley

Often secluded
Orion's Belt

Young adolescences
Years end

Experimental poetry at its best, well for me at least. I believe each line can relate to the same line in the next stanza. If you sync up the lines, they make more sense together than if not. I'm not sure why I picked colors to talk about it, but it was fun.

I hope you enjoy!

Tomb Raider

There is this tomb where the woman sleeps
She has never woken up from her slumber until now
Young and naive, she is scolded by few
But when she breaks out of her shell
People understand what she imbues
A kindness in her face, with stoneskin
She can kill anything and takes nothing for granted
Her bow is her best friend
Her legs can barely stand
No matter the odds, she always has a plan
A raider by trait, a traitor by right
Her series of events will never be long forgot

Well, I caught up and fell behind again. This poem was inspired by the new Tomb Raider game that came out today. I feel it captures the imagination of Lara Croft's tale, but I won't really know until I get the game later today.

I hope you enjoy!