Monday, September 30, 2013

Choose Wisely

Relish your relish before you perish my relish
These devilish sandwiches are mine, I'm greedy, your jealous
Molasses you say, that's what you want today
I hope your ass burns like hellfire and passes through Satan
Turkey is for the skinny, Ham is for the man
Mustard is for suckers, ketchup is a sham
If you forget the lettuce, you have no friends
And cheese can be great if you choose wisely
Said the one sandwich maker who had an untimely death
Feta is for the meta world who always like something bitter
Blue for dudes who love nothing but salt and kidney stones
Cheddar is for the All-American who knows nothing better
Provolone is classy, massive, goes down smooth with the masses
If you throw jalapeƱos on your sandwich you are living the life
Hot and spicy sauce has nothing on Mexican strife
Before you make your sandwich choose the correct ingredients
Do not let the sandwich make you obedient


I guess when I first started this poem, I was hungry. I am no longer hungry after writing about so many disgusting cheeses. That's right, I am not a fan of Blue or Feta, but I thought it ran smoothly with the poem.

I hope you enjoy!

Happily Ever Shoeless

Have you ever been to a ball
Where shoes were mandatory to take off
Once your Prince Charming arrives
They find shoes that peak their interest
And find their Cinderella amongst the crowd
Depending on who's feet slip into what shoe
Your Prince Charming must parade you around the ball
The distinguished gentleman will not care
Which shoes belong to whom
They are here to give every woman
A ball that they always imagined
A Cinderella story
A reality they can grasp

One Cinderella did not want their Prince Charming
She waited until all the shoes were gone
And threw her shoes where the rest had been
She knew her Prince Charming was not among these men
Choosing a pair of shoes
And judging a woman by the shoes
Is not her kind of ball she wants
She dreamed of a ball where a man
Would approach her at his own free will
And ask her for a dance
Names will not be revealed before they dance
They would relinquish their names
Halfway through their first dance
Maybe one day
Her Prince Charming would appear

A man without shoes, dressed in slack and flannel shirt
Approached a shoeless woman
He had no nerve, confidence or persistence
But she wasn't wearing shoes like him
He thought it was odd that someone
As beautiful as her
Would wear no shoes since her feet
Could easily be stepped on
He decided to help her out in this predicament
He asked her to dance without revealing his name
Instead, he made sure he never stepped
On her tiny beautiful toes
Halfway through the first song he said
His name was Dan
She smiled at him

She could not believe someone asked her to dance
Was this the ball she was hoping for all along
A man who had confidence to ask without knowing
He didn't have shoes
Which was weird
But she liked that he never stepped on her toes
She was at awe by his flannel shirt and slacks
As weird as this outfit may seem to others
She felt like she knew him forever
He said his name was Dan
She said her name was Roslyn
He smiled at her

Dan and Roslyn danced as long as they could
While their feet turned red and blistered
They stared into each others eyes and laughed
At every dumb joke, pun and smirk
Everyone was starring at their shoeless feet
When Dan and Roslyn noticed
They decided to yell aloud
Who needs shoes when your love needs you
They lived happily ever shoeless


I will give Rufus Wainwright credit for this corky poem. He has a song called Welcome To The Ball. They do not relate, but it did give me inspiration to come up with this weird fairytale.

I hope you enjoy!

Driving Ms. Edwards

As I awoke from my deep slumber
My mind was a blur
What dream did i just wake up from
Something dealing with old friends, sex and vandalism
My phone rang louder than ever
I usually sleep through this situation
But this morning was different
I answered with a gargle
I was not all there, but I still heard a beautiful voice
It asked me if I was awake
Which I certainly was not
But the voice kept saying how distress they were
It was my job, my duty, my frame of kindness
That led me to believe that this call
Was placed not only for a reason
But it was meant to happen
I had no intentions waking up this early
But it was all for a reason
A good reason
I may be sleep talking
I may be sleep walking
But I know what I have to do
I have to get you to the ball
Your incredible adventure that I may not share
But I do it anyway since I care
I may be sleep driving now
But I will get you to where you need to be on time
Without a doubt in my mind
I answer for the one I love
I drive for the one I love
I act for the one I love


Real life events create good inspiration I believe. I had fun writing this, it was a very interesting day to say the least. A good day too. I would not have changed any part of it really.

I hope you enjoy!

Where Are You Moon?

I looked for the moon tonight, but with little success. The cloud covering made it seem as if the moon did not want put on a show. The moon never does this to me, so why tonight? The moon has always treated me kindly and fairly; it never tends to wave my hand away. When I put my fingers close to it, the moon loves to stay in between those fingers.

It's funny, but it is so bright tonight without the moon. The clouds are very prudent and shine off light that is not usually seen. The stars are covered up, but I know they are still there. Even if the moon is hiding, the clouds are making this night sky beautiful, radiant. If I could get a glimpse at the moon, my day would be made. Just one tiny shade of white, and these clouds are not cutting it for me.

If I could take a knife, and cut through the clouds, I would. I believe if I was flying like a plane, the moon would easily be visible. I can imagine the moon being exactly where it's supposed to be, but it is not the same. I wish the moon would peek it's wonderful white beautiful surface out one last time tonight, so I can take a picture and show someone.


I wrote this a little while ago. The moon is very important to me, like I never thought it could be. It is strange how an object in the sky, well space in this instance, can be this important to me. I think it symbolism reminds me about a lot of things.

I hope you enjoy!

Friday, September 27, 2013

Sweaty Palms

I clinch your hand tightly
As if to say, "hey"
I don't mind the sweaty palms
Since grasping for your hand in the darkness
Was all part of the plan
In reality, the end of the world is upon us
And holding your hand takes me out of this reality
Nobody could have seen this coming
The news said not to worry
Family and friends told us to stop
All I know is that I had to be next to you
No man, woman nor monster could make us part
I will hold you tightly until this passes
Or we pass out
I missed your head next to mine
On the cold side of the pillow
I missed the way your hair would tickle my face
If only my facial hair wasn't so long
Then you wouldn't laugh each time I hold you tight
The end of the world is upon us
I want it to end with you or start over
What was that sound
The door is gone
Good bye my love
It won't be too long


I was up late and decided to write something. At first, I knew what I wanted. I wanted this poem to be something from a monster movie such as Cloverfield (I am not a fan of this movie). Basically, the premise was to show that a couple are together and everyone is against. However, no one is against it. There is no innuendo. There is an actual monster out there trying to kill them.

I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, September 26, 2013

I Am Free

Rolling around the ground
I start to hear the sound
Of my mother calling me

She yells that the back door
Was left opened and the
Dogs left without saying good bye

I ran out the door today
Looking for the dogs, clearly
They did not want to be here

I then understood why they left
Get away from mother
Indefinitely

I started to run as fast as I could
Not looking back and
Continue until all felt good

I am free from scrutiny
Chasing cars, birds and squirrels all day
I am free from my community
Drinking from fountains and never looking back

A man is after me
He wears all white in fact
I look back and there he is

I run as fast as I can
The man is yelling again
Why won't he leave me alone

He finally catches me
Why is he choking me
Will this be the last breathe I gasp for

I am put in some locked up area
Where the dogs all cling
To their life with a death all around

I fear for the worst right now
I don't want to be put down
Hey, look it's my brothers making a sound

I am no longer free, but captured
Where is my mother when I need her the most
I am no longer free, but in the framework
I have a record, mother please come for me

I look out the cage and perhaps
I aged another year relapse
Where am I and how long has it been

Each one of my brothers have
Cried out for mother yet
One bye one they have left

With other families, children adore them
I am still left alone waiting
For my mother and hating myself

Those shoes and footsteps
I know so well it cannot be
My mother is staring back at me

Why did she go passed me like that
What do I look like in fact
How did the ground start looking foaming

I am no longer myself
I foam out the mouth and bark like a mad dog
I am no longer myself
I will be put down, it's only a matter of time


I had a song stuck in my head all day that helped me write this. It's called Sleeping Walking. It's by band called The Chain Gang Of 1974. The song can also be heard on the Grand Theft Auto V trailer. I wish the song/poem thing didn't end up sad, but it happens.

I hope you enjoy!

School is Cool

Withdrawn from school, exclaimed the fool
His reasoning made no sense
He started off passing every class
Until he slacked off, what a lazy ass

He drinks all day, stares away
Wonders if a woman will ever come his way
He buys more drinks than he can handle
His life is in shambles, he is titled the Vandal

I sat with him on this terrible Tuesday
To talk some sense into him, a parley
I explained the reasons to go back to school
The fool exclaimed it would be too hard today

I showed him my papers, they were easy to write
I showed him my math grades, they were just alright
I noted the students and friends he would meet
Again, he exclaimed, this old man is too late

He was only thirty with a lot on his plate
This little birdie needed a date
I found a woman who is going to Uni
She was only twenty-eight and not so loony

The fool returned from the date and complained some more
That the whore was nothing, but a bed sore
She wouldn't put out or go out on another date
I explained that she had class, you deadweight

The fool said they talked about school
How everything was so cool, this worried the fool
The last time he was in school, jean jackets were in
Guns and Roses ruled and he didn't know the Shins

I explained that he would catch on with time
The professors will help me stay in line
Do not worry about fitting in
Go Back to school so your life can begin


School is cool. Stay in school kids. Since I've been at the bars lately, I noticed some older gent who was talking to someone about school. I do not know if he finished, but based on his age and the younger woman, who knows? I do not judge when it comes to school. Money is an issue when it comes to school. Some people have it, others don't want it (loans that is).

I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

The Fashion Police

Fashion shows are perfect when you are not part of them
The unimaginable clothing not only arouse suspicion
But the dimensions are subtle yet curvy at the same time
Famous people among the crowd care about nothing
But the beautiful people wearing the most ridiculous clothing

Each fashion show starts with the premise and is well contained
An activist would be very passive at this one event
It involved little enthusiasm, yet controls the nervous system

Something was spewing from the vents
This invisible gas was nothing, but an after mention special
Sleeping gas mixed with laughing gas
Everyone was put in a good mood tonight

When they awaken, they will be part of the fashion show
They will get to wear the ridiculous clothes
Walk onstage with such manner and vices
If they poss correctly, they will be let free
If they stop short and fall, they will meet their doom
Fashion shows can be a scary place
Especially if you were abducted by the fashion police


A long time ago, a friend put on a fashion show you could say. I did not know what to expect, but it did inspire me to write the first three lines to get me started. I finished the rest of this poem last night when it was very late.

I hope you enjoy!

Playing Hard To Get

Feminine fatal browsing through the young males
Peering through wooden structures
As if x-ray vision wasn't enough
She could sense the weak-minded
Buy him a drink and he will come back for more
Give him a sweet nothing and he will come back for more
Leave him a number and he will come back for more

Target acquired, seduction

The young male is tall, pale and modern
He has no baggage nor self-esteem
The feminine fatal sense his fear
She notices that he bought a cheap draft
Indicating that he had a bad day or is a cheapskate
She walks over and buys him a real drink

Double, crown, neat

He thanks her graciously
And turns back to his cheap draft
She did not understand his motive
Why did he thank her then focus on his draft
Why does he not focus on me, she thought
She gets up, walks over to the jukebox
Whenever a song plays that peeks an interest
Men usually tend to notice people around them
Instead of choosing one song
The feminine fatal chose many different types of songs
She hoped that one would grab his attention

Failure, none did

Was he playing hard to get
Is he taken
I did not see a ring on his finger, she thought
She had to bring out the big guns
If she was going to get laid tonight
She showed more skin than usual
She moved around him
Waved her arms like a flight attendant
When she tried to dance
Still, nothing but an expressionless face
From the young male at the bar
She gives up and sits at the end of the bar

Shot, whiskey, well

She was never this cheap, but her efforts meant nothing
She tried her best and it was not enough
As time passes, three songs played
A man came by and sat next to her
The young male said he noticed her
When she was being ridiculous
She turned to the young male
It was the same man she was trying to pick up
The young male is not as dumb as he looked
He waited for the right moment to talk with her
Without holding a grudge she introduces herself

My name is Cleopatra, she said
My name is Alexander, he said


The real importance to this entire poem is the last two lines. The significance, the power, the greatness. I believe a modern Cleopatra and Alexander the Great would be cool to see now in days.

I hope you enjoy!

Drinks Are On Me

Super trot
Loopy thought
Hoops thoroughly threading

Disappear
With my beer
Fists will be thrown evenly

Over here
Over there
A fox treads ever so lightly

Capture him
Throw him down
I am ready for fighting

Take a lick
Throw a fit
Get kicked out for enticing

Drink again
Later friend
They never took my credit card

What a win
Passing out
On the couch in my four bedroom apartment


I started writing this yesterday and went to a bar to play darts yesterday. I thought, why not have each element talk about a bar fight scene. Sure, it is a lighthearted one, but I find it funny.

I hope you enjoy!

Monday, September 23, 2013

A Stabbing Embrace

Questions arise at the fumigates
To breathe in equates death, you get the shakes
The tent is crashing, you run for your life
Before you exit, you grab a butter knife
Without any pants, you start to run mad
People glance at you but only feel sad
There is a man, streaking, in circles with a knife
Instead of calling the cops, they put up a fight
You stab, slash and use perry maneuvers
Why did you ever move to Vancouver
A woman tries to knee you in the groin
You make a dash for the subway
But you stop on the dime
It's your wife with another man
This was never part of your plan
You lean in for a stab, but fall to your hands
You beg and plead, approaches are your fans
They are still after you, kicking and screaming
They want your head on a platter
For the chickens to peck at
You lay down on the ground
They surround you, and impound your head
Before you close your eyes, your wife speaks softly
How does it feel when you hurt, don't cross me
You wake up with a glazed look over your face
You turn to your right, and your wife is there
You embrace


I think I have been playing too much Grand Theft Auto V. Plus, a lot of stuff is going on in my head that probably prompt me to write this.

I hope you enjoy!

Friday, September 20, 2013

All Aboard

The passengers board an invisible train
This ghost train will them to their undermining doom
Each passenger has done something in their life
Where a jester has laughed at their mistakes
While some might call what they did "sin"
They know no better nor right
The passengers fight each day to get through their regretful life
Tempted by many, consumers to each tails sided penny
Each passenger watched the train pass by for years
However, onlookers never noticed with blind eyes
Only passengers who deserve the ride see the train
One passenger saw her mother die in her arms
She was the driver and it was her fault
One passenger saw a prostitute overdose
He was the one who provided him the drugs
One passenger saw a child thrown from a vehicle
Instead of stopping to see if the child was alive
He continued to drive like nothing happened

Every passenger has the same nightmare
They take one step off a cliff and fall infinitely
Before they hit the ground
They get hit by a train running upwards
No one could explain this nightmare to them
It didn't make much sense, but they knew it meant something
None of these passengers never noticed each other in real life
Until they met on the train, they will be complete strangers
If they did meet, maybe they could figure out what is wrong
That is the only way they could avoid the invisible train
Yet, one passenger stood next to another
Before they could meet eyes, they boarded the same train


I'm not sure why I wrote about something so dark. It took me awhile to complete this poem, but I enjoyed the thrill. I'm sure I could depict more characters later.

I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, September 19, 2013

A Student's Life

Student's follow the leader
Without sharing their fear
Why walk on lava
Ride a moving sphere

Student's ignore the leader
They call them a steer
Why walk on grass
Give each teacher a snear

Student's provoke the leader
While letting out a cheer
Why walk on turf
Hand them a cold beer

Student's will be the leader
Let's make that clear
Why walk on each other
They want a lively career


I was talking with a student today and thought, I should write a poem about student's aging. This is what I came up with.

I hope you enjoy!

Thrown For A Vehicle

When a child is thrown from a moving vehicle
Survives this and that it shocks the people
The church goers surround the child in the tiny steeple
After the child awoke in his race car bed
He didn't know any better and thought he was dead
Instead of seeing the light all he saw was cherry red
His parents took him to the doctor to find out what's wrong
The doctor explained that he was colorblind all along
The child starts to black out and sees nothing any longer
Though he did tuck and roll, not break any bones
His eyes sight messed up after he was thrown
Why did God take this child sight away
And condone him to darkness everyday
What the church goers didn't know along with his parents
The child never believed and it was apparent
God was taking revenge on the child, its transparent
That the child was always wanting to be incoherent
It's not the child's fault that he didn't believe
He chose his own beliefs years after he was conceived
No one can tell him what to do or how to perceive it
The child accepts his newly acquired eyes
Decides to go on another fucking ride
Nothing matters to him and he subsides then dies


I was inspired to write this because of Modest Mouse. They have a song called Dark Center of the Universe. I think it helps when you can sing your own stuff to it, to at least get the cadence you want. Check out the song, it is great.

I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Mr. Fix It

Give me a lyric so I can make its spirit
Flow so unimaginable that it's intangible
Manageable like the evil corporations
My phalanges hurt when I write
About this broke nation
The job market cease to exist
A Mr. Fix It in place ruined by the face
Of our government's plans and schemes
If you want to own me, then please redeem
My gift card where cash is refundable
I use gift cards like cash since it's all redundant
Cash isn't what it used to be since last year
A penny saved was a penny lost
Where the boss takes pennies on end
Leave me penniless in a gutter
Scrounging for food for my sick mother
They called me a street rat since I stole
From all the right places
The faces I interact with made me run
To the races
There goes Lucky Limbo and Tormented Tally
Come on horses, win big for daddy
I only gamble to make ends meat
Supper on the table is a huge feat
If you see me on a street corner
I have nothing to offer
I'm embarrassed to go home and be the father
They my children need in this darkest hour
A tiny flower for my daughter
Would have me bending over backwards
She understand that daddy has no real job
But she stayed with her Aunt while I run from the law
Why did the job market fall so quick
Ever since the government handed out the ticks
They sucked us dry like the vaccine drive
The last bug died within hours of being alive
Our nation is faster and more meticulous than ever
I do not even bother the courier
Who fetches my unemployment letters
They will be spent in minutes by taxes and ex-laxes
Where is Mr. Fix It when I need him
To fix my crisis


I believe Ender's Game is to blame for this. There is so much talk about the government that I had to write about some type of government where vaccines are quick and the job market is shit.

I hope you enjoy!

Monday, September 16, 2013

Fact Checker

As time passes, the nervous I get
What could be, could come, may be a curious complex
I bet with time, things can change
Like the way we built the Hindenburg and Titanic, it's strange like that

With each day, brings a new whim
A possibility that could dim a creme de la creme
Time slows with each waking moment
And a song played sets my atonement

Apologies fly like a sacred raven
Never let die the imagined behavior
My thoughts are scatter into an endeavor
The creator will save me, but nothing can really be my savior

Flip a table if I must and shout aloud
The fixation is futile, but I am still proud
I've came this far and will never stop
I obtained this mar and will forever be on top

With my past experiences and continued pace
Unless someone ties my shoe laces together with disgrace
I may fall, but I will arise from the depths
My path is clear like Boba the Fett's

I never cease to amaze myself and others
I push myself at all times like a bird with too many feathers
Though I may lose a feather, another will appear
My dear, dear life is nothing to fear

I may be crazy like a bee, sting with a force so deep
Within these piles of rubble, I will never pillage until trouble
Comes along and saves me from this stature
My latch is broken, the fact checker will create an opening


I have no idea what was going on in my head when I wrote this. I was probably half asleep when I did write this.

I hope you enjoy!

One Tiny Phrase

The one phrase I never expected to come out of your perfectly shaped mouth revealed itself today. How could you relay something like that to me?
After all you have been through, you throw it out there without realizing what you have done.
Life does not work this way. When it starts to rain, you know when and where you will be drenched.
Each day is as monumental as the last; using sarcasm at least.
If the water stands still, why bother it with your erratic behavior.
Time did not matter to you, but you said it anyways. You spontaneous little bastard.
Why do you speak your mind with such nonsense?
You could have said anything else, but now I have to relive this memory everyday.
I do not believe it will go away anytime soon, but if it does, I hope it is slow and painful.
This torment does not hurt me, but makes me stronger. Nothing you say will change the fact that I was not expecting the unexpected.
I could not have predicted your movements, motive or monologue.
It sucks that everything reminds me of you now, but that's only a side effect.
I keep repeating that phrase in my head every night. I lose sleep, but at least it is for a good cause.
Life is supposed to be this hard, and tiny phrases can move you in ways you could never imagine.
If you repeat that phrase one more time, I just might have to say it back.
No promises though, since it is very vital and rare for me to speak this.
I love you.


I wrote this awhile ago. I wanted this poem to speak as if a woman was thinking and saying these things. However, I've come to the conclusion that this could be both for the male and female. Overall, I'm content about this poem.

I hope you enjoy!

Friday, September 13, 2013

No Time For Music

Once the song starts, the relaxing begins
Every time this song comes on, my mind is obliterated
Not in a bad way, but the way you feel when
Nothing matters and life as you know it exist for only you
Instead of thinking about the world and its problems
You focus on the song and lose yourself
Basically, your mind can be clear
This is when strange thoughts arises from the depths
Maybe you could be a professional dancer
Inspiration is in all shapes and sizes, and lengths
The length of the song can have a long lasting affect
How long could it be stuck in your head
Not only can you sing the lyrics in your head
But you hum it, whistle it, sing it out loud
You forget who is around you and may be embarrassed
No worries though, since no one will care the slightest
What song means this much to you
I know a few songs that always come through


Have you ever had a song like this strike you in a way that you cannot explain? I was listening to a song this morning and forgot about everything. In my head, I was dancing. In public, I just kept walking. However, it made me think about trying to learn to dance again. Stranger things with music have happened to me.

I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Command Ender

Humanity rests upon your shoulders soldier
Get out of bed and start your day off right
Kill a few bugs this dreadful night
Never attend meetings without being asked
Always wash up before putting on your mask
Paper is not what it used to be
But do not fear the reaper
You win because you are
Every formation is perfect even when it's not
Do not take any ranked official for granted
Life begins and ends by your hand
Formal opponents will hate you day in and out
Ignore everyone including your family
Care for no one but the game and battles
The end is near Ender


I am reading Ender's Game. This book is pretty incredible. I am speeding through it too. The book is intelligent, cunning, and can get you thinking about personal experiences. I have actually related the book to my own life already and I'm a little over halfway through with it. I think I may read the second book in the series.

I hope you enjoy!

You Are My Sun

Remember the moment I said I would bring you the moon
Not with a silly lasso but with a power far greater than any tune
I will not fly you to the moon or show you pictures from space
I will bring the moon to you, no matter what it takes
Every full moon you see, stare graciously at it
It may seem close now, but just wait until you can grab it
If the moon is too close, the tides will change
If the moon is too far, what would be the point of night
If the moon is within your grasp, do not take it for granted
The moon is not something we can land on anytime soon
Walking on the moon is all in the past
Bringing it down to Earth is my daily task
It may sound like a ridiculous motive, to bring the moon to you
But deep down, I believe this could be the greatest gift of all
I may take weeks, months or years, but the moon is yours
There is no doubt in my mind that the moon can be ours
I do not want the World, I want the moon for me and you
I want you to see the moon as I see you


I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Look At Me Now

If I saw a moutain lion
I would run to the hills
But if I did that
Wouldn't I be target practice

If I saw a skating rink
I would walk on thin ice
Not because I can't skate
But because my date can't skate

If I saw an elephant
It would be in the room
Literally, there is an elephant
In my 10 x 10 room

If I saw a spider
I would burn my house down
Look a spider...
911

If I saw a lost child
I would approach with caution
Calling all mothers
Have you seen these children

If I saw a tiny snake
It would die by my rake
It's not my fault the snake
Wrapped its body around death

If I saw a clown
I would run under my covers
I hate clowns
I hate clowns

If I saw a woman
I would try to get her number
My pick up lines are perfect
Did it hurt when you rose from hell

If I saw my mother
She would be proud
She will laugh at this
Hey mom, look at me now


I had fun writing this. I am not sure what it all means using animals like I did here. I needed to have a fun poem to write, and I finally got one.

I hope you enjoy!

Listen Mr. Brown

When I listen to my teach, all I get is a "wah"
Mr. Brown is on top of this without a frown
Fear the class clown, the Snoopy of the game
He may love barons, birds and blue blankets
But do not let his interior see the real you
Give him pennies on diems and quarters of food
See what he does to your screwed up face
Linus cannot help you
Lucy will out you with a phobia
Take a football to fool ya
Fly a kite into the tree
So you cannot see the "wahs" coming
Ignore Woodstock and get a pecker
To the head, tweet on this
Simple bliss from a yellow bird
Whose main goal is to fly
Die by no one, live for any pun
Cue the tree, but not the kite eating one
It's crippled like Linus without his blanky
Wrap it around the tree
And everyone notices it's inner beauty
Christmas may be about the gifts
But Linus leans toward its meaning
Good will toward men
The PumpkinKing is all he needs to be his Santa
Thanksgiving will always be a disaster
The problem, Snoopy has more relative relatives
Who can demolish the table faster
The dog is no pup but an adventure seeker
GIve him a plan
He will take a shot
Give him a blanket
He will take a shot
Give him a costume
He will take a lot of your candy
"Wah" "Wah" "Wah"
Is all you hear
Cut the crap and listen with your obscure ears


When I was growing up, Charlie Brown and the Peanuts were my everything. I remember getting into them during my elementary school days. When Charles Schutz died, it was a sad day for me. I collected a lot of the comics and enjoyed reading them in the Sunday paper. This was intended to be some kind of rap, not sure what it is anymore.

I hope you enjoy!

Retinitis Pigmentosa

"Death upon your house and that shack over there!" The old man dressed in the potato sack yelled. The house he curses is no Capulet nor Montague. It is a house that was cursed. A witch once lived there and the children tired to ring her door bell frantically, but would always freak out before they get to the door.

It is known that some children have been turned into birds, frogs and ghosts; each generation of children wants to outdo the last generation when it comes to fairy tales. However, one child was brave enough and rang the door bell. Before he could run, they were possessed by a gleaming light from the peep hole. It was so bright that it left the child motionless. Supposedly, it blinded the child and the doctors could not explain the phenom. That blinded child grew up and wear a potato sack.

The shack that was being cursed was the home of a groundskeeper. He tends to the witch's garden and shrubs. He never enjoyed weed eating the sides of the house, so he let those grow like vines. It is known that the man is the only person who has ever communicated with the witch. He was never turned into some weird creature, been eaten by a dog or bat, or even blinded like the man cursing in the potato sack.

What the children don't know is that there is no witch. No one has lived in that house for years. The groundskeeper who tends to the house is the son of the homeowner. The homeowner never came back for him since he was twelve. He has waited nearly forty years for a descendent to visit him, some long lived relative or once removed cousin. All he does it the yard work.

The blind potato sack man was blinded alright, but a witch had nothing to do with it. Retinitis Pigmentosa actually caused the man to lose his sight. The doctors were not trained on this specific catastrophe. The groundskeeper in the shack knew though since the old homeowner had the exact same problem.


I was up late the other night and started to write a prose poem. At first, it was going to revolve around a witch and how children were always scared of her. However, I've seen enough of this. Instead, I made it about the groundskeeper, the potato sack, and blindness. I think the random ending makes this prose poem work.

I hope you enjoy!

One More Song

That song comes on in your car
You park
And just sit there
Instead of getting out of the car immediately
You just sit there
Why
Because you can and will
The song is not your favorite song in the world
The beat may be off
The singer could sound like shit
But at that moment in time
You decide to sit and listen
You pay attention to the lyrics
Each word is new to you
Since you never pay enough attention to lyrics
All you hear is the music
The story has a lot of delightful insight
How can a song relate to your life
Did they write this song for you
You start to sing along
Each lyric comes easy to you
Since this is the 100th time you heard it
But if this is the 100th time
Why does it feel like the first time
You are paying attention to the subtle details
The sing says this at this time
The key change starts here and ends there
The syncopated notes really drag on
Besides paying attention to the details
You start to dose off
Why is this so relaxing
You forgot you closed the garage behind you
This will be your last song
I hope you like it


One more car poem. I'm not sure why I'm so obsessed with driving right now. This poem did happen to me the other day. Not the ending part, but I did just sit in my car and listen to some music. I enjoyed it.

I hope you enjoy!

'89 Camaro

When I escape the clutches of the night
I fall into bed, and put up a fight
My mind races like my expensive sports car
It's an '89 Camaro with no spoiler in sight
It can see 145 miles per hour
Takes the sweat right off my brow
Basically, it is fast, nearly as fast as these thoughts
While the horsepower is a measly 170
My thoughts are being processed nearly double that
I see things from my past, present and future
I talk in my head about faith, honor and sin
I redeem qualities that have been lost for years
If I could write this all down in a notebook
It would fill up four books worth
College ruled, front and back, single space
If I drift from my thoughts, it retaliates with a fierce growl
One could call it snoring
Other might call it my engine roaring by
All I know is that if I stop thinking
I might die
I call my Camaro "The Tinker Soldier"
It looks like a car a spy would drive
I spy with my thoughts another sleepless night


I never liked Camaros much. I believe they are uncomfortable to sit in. If I had one, I would probably have multiple speeding tickets.

I hope you enjoy!

Driving Nowhere

While I drive through the darkness
I imagine going further than I ever have before
What if I didn't stop where I was supposed to
Keep going until I reach a new destination
No stops but the ones where I need gas, food and sleep
How far could I go until I couldn't take it
Each new town would be a small adventure
A new speed limit would either contain me longer in towns
Or make me speed right through them
The destination doesn't matter
As long as I get somewhere, sometime
If I am 231 miles form my original location
I know I could go futher
If I wind up in another state
I know I am going in the right direction
I go where I want
It helps me to stop thinking
Where am I
It doesn't matter
Where are you
It doesn't matter
Where will I wind up
Somewhere far away


I wrote this awhile ago and cannot remember why. I've been thinking about driving a lot lately.

I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Talking Shit About Sunrises and Sets

I enjoy talking shit about sunrises and sets
The moon never bothers me since I have no debt
Women seem to listen to my story
But don't bother since I'm not pretty
Here is a drink, or four
Pour it down your guy and ask for more
Scrape a knee outside the bar, but land right side up in my bed
Though the day is half gone and my glass is empty
I got out and do the same thing everyday
I talk shit about sunrises and sets
Hoping that the moon will detest me
Give me that shine, give me this night, give me a fight
A bar patron walks in with a sleeve on his shoulder
One to be exact, the right one intact
It's time to hatch my revenge from three fortnights ago
He stole my woman who was interested in my story
Though she was only on beer two out of four
Before I step off the edge of this cliff, or wooden step
I post the same woman
She approached me with solitude and happiness
I continue my story without another drink
We talk shit about sunrises and sets
The moon can stay bliss without my distaste from this


This song is inspired by a Modest Mouse song called Talking Shit About Pretty Sunset. Basically, mine tells a different story, but it is a wonderful song. Give it a listen.

I hope you enjoy!

The Boardwalk

The Boardwalk is full of old and young folks
I see Tommy playing in his red tailored suit
With his great grandfather who is 92
I see 9-year-old Claire in her blue Sunday dress
Playing with teenagers as if she was 14 herself
The tide rushes in and takes a few more children
Hopefully they will not drown while no one watching
That would be a travesty
but all the parents are at home, while the old folks roam
Today is a special day where parents take the day off
Not from their daily duties, but they all share a connection
They form a circle around one of their homes and choose
What is it they choose
Which great grandparent and child must die
It is for the sake of the Boardwalk
If no sacrifices are chosen, then the gangs will come out
They are ruthless and will murder every man and boy
The women and little girls will have to fend for themselves
There are a group of women who actually want this to happen
They call themselves the Privileged
While they attend the meeting, they try and complicate the issue
A town with no men intrigues them
Why should man hold women back
Why should man not eat from the apple by themselves
Why should man be man
It has been nearly 30 years since this ritual
And with no success from the Privileged
However, this year could be different under the right circumstances
Tommy, Clarie and Tommy's great grandfather are the key


I was looking around the room and saw my Boardwalk Empire bluray case. I thought, I want to write about a Boardwalk. Then I thought about one of my favorite short stories that involved stoning a person to death for the sake of a village. Then I came up with this. I could probably turn it into a prose poem, but I really like the idea.

I hope you enjoy!

If I Was With You

If I was with you
I would buy you
A ring with no purpose
If i was by you
I would tell you
How beautiful you are everyday
If I was across from you
I would speak of you
As if you were never there
If I was above you
I would whisper to you
Sweet nothing's and weep from laughter
If I was next to you
I would want you
To hold my hand at every instance
If I was wondering about you
I would never fear for you
I trust you with all my heart
If I was dreaming of you
I would cherish you
Even more than when I am awake
If I was touching you
I would take you
Wherever you want to go
If I was with you
I would tell you
How much I care


I believe this could be considered and ode or a song, I haven't decided yet. I want this to sound like the song by Sixto Rodriguez, aka Sugar Man. He has a song called "I think of you." It is very soft and mellow. Easily one of my favorite artist.

I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Retort

Retort
Sharply rude
Rudimentary my dear
Dear Santa exclaimed Man
Men conquer subtle contiguous people
Sheeple roam the midnight hour drunkenly
Drink the Ovaltine and cherish chocolate residue
Due to the camels oversize luxurious lopsided hump
Umps get calls wrong one hundred percent after time
Time After Time is a classic monumental dance for couples
Two couples make the same mistakes as any rhetorical question implies


I decided to change it up with my poetry and do a new form I've never done before. This form is called Oulipo. Basically, you add another word to each line. Also, what I wanted to do was relate the last word in some way, shape or sound with the next word first line.

I hope you enjoy!

Hills On Mars

The hills are dying
No man will set foot on Mars
Aliens exist


I have not done a haiku in a while, so I wrote this little guy up. Usually, it's good to talk about seasons, and I believe Mars has its seasons just like us. Also, aliens are everywhere.

I hope you enjoy!

The Tuscan Shots

The Tuscan Hills is no place for paranoid single mothers
Even if the alarms are set, nothing protects you from the major threat of loneliness
You can spend over three hundred thousands dollars on your home
A tremendous home with an acre and patio that brings all the men to the yard
You can have as many cookouts as you like
But will that make up for the shots you hear in the dark
You do not believe in ghosts, so scratch that from existence
You do not believe anyone is out to get you
You do not believe this is a bad neighborhood
So why do you hear these shots that no one else hears
Can you be imagining a preexisting threat you want to happen
Something to tickle your composure and dignify this lonely posture
You not only fear for your life, but your daughter who started college
She doesn't want to live at home anymore and she's not too far away
Take 35 for a few minutes and you could see her
When you go to bed, you hear those shots
Your halfbreed rat terrier is in the room with you and does not stir
You get out of bed and walk down your tattered hallway with knickknacks along the walls
You see pictures of your former self and ex husbands
CRACK!
What could that have been you ask yourself
You get to the kitchen and find nothing
You are slowly going insane, wanting someone there with you
Not to protect you, but so they can tell you that the shots are all in your head
Before you head to bed, you take a shot of crown
That knocks you and the shots out


I'm not sure how I thought about this. I was looking for something in Tuscany and then found out that Denton has a Tuscan Hills community. The houses are very expensive so I decided to talk about a single mother who is freaking out.

I hope you enjoy!

Why I Write

Poetry is a foreign device to many, and a pleasure for some. Does it come easy for me? No. I just like writing to express myself with literary devices.

When People ask my about my inspiration, I claim that it comes from thin air. I try not to think when I write. I try to be as random as possible. I do not care if you love it or hate it. I write to write.

These past months have been fun. I never thought I would make it this far, but with the goal in sight, it's worth saying that I can finish this. For every poem, I write another one. For every reader, I accomplish the status quo. For every word, I make sure another backs it up. I do not want my poetry to end.

Expect great things from this journey. I am not done yet. I hope you enjoy!


I thought about how to write a poem about me writing a poem within a poem. So I came up with this. Prose poems can be weird, but I believe this gets my point across.

I hope you enjoy!