January 2012
48 posts
Sometimes when the girl you like says things like she was scheduled to work on a holiday so luckily she didn’t have to worry about making plans, you bring the holidays to her work. Stalking, creeping, cutely.
December 2011
55 posts
5 tags
I am the modern day holiday spirit:
Suicide rate is up
Christmas lights are down
Burn victim trees
are dragged from the ankles
to the curb
like the end of a witch hunt
and left alone
I watch everyone around me
pull me out of their life
with no words
and no suicide notes.
I am tree ornaments
from kindergarten
you hate
pairs of socks
in fancy boxes
when you asked for an mp3...
5 tags
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, by the way”
I know, I already have one super ego. Can’t handle two.
4 tags
I’ve got lungs
like an ocean
without a moon above
to influence
every tide
is forced
nothing is automotive
every breath is a exhausted
a thousand year war
questioning the pride of now and then
I’d give up
and stop
but I don’t know how.
5 tags
Little boys
with
little boners
in their hands
trying to make out
anything bloody
as flush and soft
like females they’ve never seen
a head wound
a cracked skull
is not a masturbatory eyesight
unless you’re me.
4 tags
Slow dance to power violence
mock dance and shake my leg
like I’m tripping
while cumming on my own two feet
if there’s one thing I take seriously
it’s narcissism
I get turned on
by girls laughing at my jokes
reassuring I’m as funny as I know I am
and we slow dance
and you look me in the eyes and ask
“so you do like my hair?”
4 tags
Our conversations become like Church
We give thanks to all the good we have
I’m glad when I stuck my tongue in your mouth tonight
you bit it
said no
and laughed happily.
You go on to mention me
reading my short stories and poems
even though I hate reading my short stories and poems
and I feel that they were good
by the way you blushed from them
and we go on until we run out of...
4 tags
There’s people waiting to break your knees with bats
after following you home
head West and go on a date instead
thirty or forty miles
on empty.
Meet a recovering addict
who hasn’t had sex in two years
because of heroin
and limp dick.
Laugh when he tells you it was so bad
when buying heroin
and was offered a blowjob
he turned it down.
End up in his great grandparents...
7 tags
Throw up so hard
toilet water shakes
like a Tsunami
before it hits China
and laugh.
I am a God
amongst toilets
the unforgiving
potty mouth
God.
4 tags
Rain clouds
fill her head
and exit out
her wet palms
I use to keep my hands warm
between her ass
and the car seat
and she’d spit my cum
into a soda can
or out the car window
we were bad seeds
growing worse
Going eighty miles
down an open freeway.
1 tag
Every time I open my mouth
it’s like a Catholic Priest
who thinks he’s drunk
off Jesus’s blood
and God is speaking through him
I’m that great.
5 tags
Punch the floor
like I’m trying to tourniquet
the blood
from my body
down to my fingers
and just shut up for once
but I never do
I never
do.
4 tags
When I’m not drinking
I’m writing about drinking
the crack in my forehead
is open
and it looks like my brain
is falling out
I sing operas under my breath
and keep all my problems
under my finger tips
and use pens
like legs
and run from everything
for miles
all day and night.
3 tags
I’m not very good with writing paragraphs, I say I too many times, and I don’t really appreciate that. Just writing for the fuck of it.
“You have a drinking problem.” She says this from the doorway between the bedroom and hallway. Her legs are wrapped in dark nylon, slim and slender. I can’t make out the rest of her and I begin to tell her:
I know I have a...
4 tags
There is no evidence
you existed.
There is no birthmark
born
after your absence,
or bruise
I could breed
into a pond.
There is only
all these late nights
and miles of ink
I shape you from.
I need to stop
leaving my blood on the ground
from my head.
3 tags
“You invented miracles.”
-Uncle Max
4 tags
We are terrible people
slowly getting better
while getting drunk.
We walked Downtown Fullerton
and I stole a dirty stuffed elephant teddy bear
from someones memorial off the street
and laughed.
I wrote something anti-God
on a church
and that
I hate myself
everywhere I sat.
Some nights we’d get drunk
and become comfortable
and I’d say I love you back
after I laughed...
2 tags
Where it says
“sexuality”
I write:
I love myself.
I fuck my hand
every night
before bed
like the two were consequential.
4 tags
Idiosyncrasies:
The wind
and I
breath
and pull hell
from the ground
and turn the middle into ash.
x.
The wind
breaths in
the house on fire
and turns it’s anatomy
into ash.
I want to take the wind
out of your open French mouth
just like that.
x.
Smoking outside
instead of
inhaling everyone’s word vomit inside
and I hear you go on
about purity
and clarity.
4 tags
I look like a fucking nightmare
who refuses to go to sleep.
That’s it
that’s the poem.
3 tags
I fall from the cliff of your rib cage
and land face first
on your hip bones
and bear trap skin
between my ugly teeth
before I let go
and go down on you.
Everyone knows
if a girl sprays her perfume on a letter
for you
it’s a notion towards a relationship.
My wrinkled face is the paper
your cunt is the perfume
but you’re mailing me out
next day
with no return address.
4 tags
There are so many things I haven’t written yet
have I ever mentioned my main goal as a slam poet
is to write an eighties power ballad?
2 tags
WatchIf you know me, which is unlikely. You’d witness or recognize I typically grunt pretty loudly when I’m pushed or asked to do something out of my way or I’m doing something nice for someone on my own free will’d ass.
This is where I grunt.
I went ahead and read through my last poem
it came out alright
I don’t like my voice
I can’t slam poems yet
but, got...
5 tags
Most guys are after
a girl with fake tits
that aren’t too fake
but just fake enough
to be unobtainable.
I’m just after
a girl with armpit hair
who stinks
and lets her dirty hair
lock together
and grow like straw
to bury myself in
and find
with my own eye
where the needles are
Sometimes
I close one bleeding eye
patched with my hand
and watch everything around me
go...
4 tags
I read in the news
a hundred and thirty-three people
died in India
from drinking bootleg moonshine.
I thought the Egyptians
taught us
we couldn’t drink the blood
of the moon
or god
without burning in hell for it,
and that’s what they did.
They burned right up
fever caused the brain
to shut down
oxygen
went flat
along with
their thirst.
4 tags
I have
two Xanax
in my pocket
and two
tall cans,
shared -
and empty,
in my open closet
from last night
standing on the exposed cement floor
below all my clothes I don’t wear
or disguise often in
and there’s this truth
that I won’t cover up
it’s naked
and it’s ugly
but here it is:
two funerals
in one month
is too fucking much.
5 tags
Sunken, at the bottom of his dark-water pupils lay a die with one dot in the middle. There are snake eyes in his skull, every decision he makes is a bad one. He’s got fingers loaded like Russian Roulette which he fires off nervously and blankly towards the paper below.
Every poem is awful
Every topic is stupid
Every single thing was a mistake
and he
continuously,
through every day
...
4 tags
Treat me like a tall can
fill me with the echo
of your ninth grade soundtrack
and knock me over
on your bedroom floor
after I’ve emptied out
let me keep the backwash
of your mouth
spiting out
oceans
of piss
I’ve got all these
cuts
that don’t hurt
enough.
4 tags
Tie your tongue in knots until air can’t escape your throat
feel the quite feet of butterfly dissipating inside your stomach
remember kindergarten butterfly homes
think of your blood going flat
like an open soda bottle
all of these good things
going wrong
write like your hand is on fire
until the friction between your pen and paper reach
four hundred and fifty one degrees
write...
4 tags
I miss you
to fucking death
not because
I’m overly emotional
but because
that’s where you are
you are dead
you are fucking dead.
2 tags
I like the music I listen to
because it’s angry
and
it’s alive
You like the music
because you want to be
angry
and you want to be
a bully.
3 tags
5 tags
Fishing for compliments
on land
you belong in the sea
at the very bottom.
4 tags
I’ll call this a poem
even though I know it’s not.
I work nine hours Monday
and then Tuesday I attend a funeral
my car needs work
and that’s money I don’t have
I have court in ten days
my friend asks if it ever gets better
I say not really.
4 tags
Sometimes a piano sounds so beautiful
you forget that it’s just hammers.
And then you sit
alone with your silence and your god
wondering what kind of noise you make
under pressure
4 tags
Eyes
like
the sun
that will
burn out
with
enough
years.
I’m so god damn sick
of seeing everything around me
buildings that don’t crack or fall
people on the ground
crying more than the clouds above.
1 tag
Snort blow
off a mirror
and love yourself
vain bastards
Sending Vomit Spit Suppositories.
6 tags
Pick up photos
and hold them to your face
like mirrors
you aren’t who you use to be
anymore
and you don’t know those faces
or those places
like you use to
anymore.
4 tags
Sidewalks
drowning
in the rainfall
imagine all those footprints
being carried to the grass
or dirt
beside the concrete
a swift push back to our roots.
4 tags
Folded paper cranes
flying
under my breath
do you remember that time
five thousand birds fell dead from the sky
over Arkansas?
It’s kind of like that.
3 tags
She’ll read your palm
by flooding it
with the blood
from your open wrist
and like the dead sea
things won’t sink
What might surface
could be anywhere between
holding hands with girls
in amusement parks
or
closing your ears shut
underneath your bed
while your parents killed each other.
Before anything comes up
I close my fist
Bermuda Triangle
open pockets of air...
4 tags
I walked through a forest today
in the air
it smelt like pine
with one inhale
I had already found an exit.
I wonder how many secrets
the wind is carrying today.
1 tag
1 tag
The irony of growing up is while you’re doing your best to be a good person, all your heroes start dying around you.
4 tags
Stick nails
through clouds
and pin them to the sky
leave dirty finger prints everywhere
like children over a snow globe.
I want to remember the path
of your creativity
and the motions
of those articulate fingers
which carved the skyline
and almost pulled my feet from my grave.
You work delicate hands
with
clear, soft, forgiving skies
while I work fingers down to bones
and into...