Sunday, March 31, 2013

Uncrustables Are The Best Sandwiches.

On the stoop scraped scoops
swooning scalpels shaved Steve.
Souring sea urchins salvaged an
agreeable claim.

Soiled Madrid sloped sowing
silly slaves as invalids in
the Everglades shining.

Sweeping succulent screws,
Sean saw stacks of socks
sleep till noon,
and it was not fun.

I had a bad day today.
And today was Easter.
It ended in a roller coaster
and I can't climb down.

I Am Writing To Someone... I Think...

In diameter of love,
there is not much of area to search
so we make the best of what we can
gather as long as all our vibes
are within a descriptive reach.
When a song dreams of
our longing...
it seems impossible to convey
a relay of substantial thoughts
onto you.
We are supposed to have
similar minds,
just where have they gone?

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Magnolia Mania Medallions

Supple lathering of soap scented like raspberries
and lemongrass, the end of the night is near.

~concrete contempt countering crouches rifting raves revolting 
vibes vandalizing vines victory to vans tipping towers therefore 
trellis's tapeworm thought thousand times a day.
hard-nosed archeologists agreed haggard halves 
nearly nurtured almost anything here housed next nothing 
accumulating artifacts helping heaps new now.~


I baked a cake tonight
and it did not burn up in the oven.
The cake is chocolate
with chocolate frosting
because I need a major
chocolate fix.
Otherwise, I never bake
nor cook but waffles and pizza
and waffle pizzas.
So yay me.

Cum Grano Salis

Tripling the fantasies
for a better time
no one is the third wheel.

Its not an experience
the whole world can accept,
look into the music.

The support of the wind chimes,
a chimera on a breeze,
New Brunswick in the spring.

By no means of heavy travel
can love cross over very far
take my word before you speak.

The evening sets in
therefore we must sleep
the both hold me tightly.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The Small of Your Cheek (Emblazoned Abandonment Furniture Check Postponed of Inactivity Since the Second of March)

In the reciprocals of this evenings event,
the trash receptacles are dangling like testicles.
I tickle them, I make them blush,
and I bedazzle them with makeup.
Your forehead matches your foreskin.
What about the last evening of last year.
It went something like this.
You were strapped into a giant latex heel,
bleeding ribcage,
guttural language sparked imagination!
I was determined to have you pay.
Ignition is savory,
lemon drops to your open wounds.
You wish you could cry if you saw
what you looked like.

Get Serious

I think I should do some poetry contests and be like
whatever, I gave it a shot anyways.
Gotta get somewhere somehow.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Lower Thy Girdle

My heart is so invisible now.
I have deleted it and removed it
Don't want attachments.
No more love.
What is life?
This poem isn't worth it's title
but this is all that I feel right now.

Monday, March 25, 2013

∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊

∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊
∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊
∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊
∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊
∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊
∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊
∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊
∂ⅰк∑㎡๒∑ ㎡ㄩ₮◊㎡๒◊

this is my most influential poem
of the year.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Tickled Like "Pink"

clowns in curry is sure to mix
every party antelope
gallops too slow in slope.
Sloshing fields of anchary,
a shrude for money tunes.

Like Things in Excess Never to Get Too Attached

Glacier glooming all protruding
topless Minerva meeting mildew
in the evenings shivers sleeping
swerving scorpions see you teething.
Moldings melt meth labs seeking
sloppy anachronisms burden deepening.
Thoughts endearing as mind eroding
protrusions shock slabs like cocks
seeping southward into tales of asylums
lynching all that deem to be the best
is beasts of misanthropic disproportion.
Bleeding before your steep steps of love
trophies full of empty love
in distant yet distinct emblems beef,
billow shout soothing pillows
shot in my inner heart
a coordinate of false claims
and phony appeals applied
to the chins of men that I hate.
Mild milking of meaty mermaids
miffed muffles for me.

I End Up Alone

The beast in the room
is a fly on the wall,
a mammoth of a micrometer
and moves at the blink of an eye
can be anything so slow as magma
burning up the retinas
in a sacrificial supremacy.
Nothing artificial about her
which is why they not dare
speak to her.
The others put on a face of false
pretenses that she takes as truth,
but in reality she should
not open up her heart
to anyone.
People are out there as
They live to disappoint you.
The world does not even revolve around you.
Yet, you feel you have the right
to hold this absurd notion
that within each waking step
your feet take
the ground will shake
causing others to react
in such ways as to alienate you
from our very own race.
What she (the you that I have been referring to)
is an excitant breed that regenerates 
inside every species and every notion of a thought.
Inside your own wrong-doing,
self-destructive imagination,
you would like to decimate every human!
That cannot happen.
Oh I pray for the apocalypse! 
There is no grantee that will occur in
my lifetime. 
So she might choose suicide.
No more future,
no more plans,
no more friends.
Life is all frustration,
disappointment, and lies.

I lost all hope.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Rewarding Abbreviation

A blip on the raider screening incontinence,
on behalf of all the science nonsense,
an intriguing master of a mind
engulfed half a genuine deer carcass
down the throat of a subhuman crossbow.

Fourth Flower, A Purple Haze. Let's Imagine Me Dead.

I want you for a flower.
Not like the other mistakes.
But if you read this, please be aware
that I could fall in love for you.

What makes a lemon any more sour
then the weekends unabashed
by a lonesome corner eye?

Have my hands become
filled with butterflies?
An estuary pickled
madcap tailored suits to befit
the handsome devil and
swoon me o'er his lap.

Monday, March 18, 2013

No Distiction

Crane oh crane,
on my brain...
educate me and value my praise.
Train oh train,
fabricate my triangle
and seclude me to the Nile.
Maverick of Egypt,
send me keys
to help unlock ancient secrets.
Did aliens help you build
what was nearly impossible
for humans to do today?
A moth! A moth!
Oh warm and fluffy moth,
come take me by my brain
and hand...
release my eyes, for they
cannot see the tubular
shape of your dear
proboscis mouth
that no longer works
as you are an adult with wings
and collect special dust.
You are my God specimen,
one of great power.
Meander my brain subtly
to reduce the tears of pain.

District 39

A superior flower
grew informed of the inferior
buds due to their
intrepidness of the county officer bees
contracted the fleas to build
a safe harbor to release their
kindled trees.

Another day came,
the buds opened up
flat into the sun
so much so that their
attractive petals enamored a butterfly
to take a dip into the pollen.

Day three since
the arrival of spring
that a chickadee supreme
introduced its beak to an early lunch
with use of the camouflage of foliage.
The grasshopper never expected it coming.

Shoe Gauzey

A wolf fell into butter
while a flower attacked the spotlight.
My foot flew off the train
and landed in your open-eye-soup-story.
A tragedy struck indeed
when one or more females rape
a panda. "Are you crazy woman?"
I just asked you to answer the phone.
"He keeps hanging up."
And I answer God.
Flying up laughter
shot out the cannon.
Balls on fire,
you can sing like a little girl
stuck on falsetto
reaching toward a giraffes heart.
We grow closer together.
We learn the Russian alphabet together.
We find the waffles
and eat them in bed.
A perfect day is spending a blizzard
trapped in the bedroom.
The heat will be turned up.
Lets watch movies all the way
until we gather up fire
and make it a lusty hell.

A Nearly Open Book

I share a crease with you
in a cozy book page.
The book sledom opens
lest a slight breeze ruffles the
delicate pages.
We are an old book,
a critized novel,
by a woman author.
She fell in love once
and her love affair took
her no where except
to find time to write
and to dig her grave
and today she walked
into her tomb cautiously,
and left her cat to the
care of her neighbors.
In this crease,
we yet to cease
the moment of frozen
of shadows dance across the tiled
kitchen floors
and her ghostly
encounters evermore.

Wintered Claddagh

An importune omni crescent
synced to your lips and
anchored by your gums.

Saturday, March 16, 2013


Poem and drawing.
Please click to enlarge.

A Methodical New Horizon

Freelance orthodonture,
brontosaurus breakdancer,
telephone wire space habitable.
And here we are yet again
a dingy bubble of a time
ensconced in all what you would like
to be wishes come true
onto a forlorn past.
A fog horn breathes in and out
wakes a spirit turtle
dancers on the ridge
of humpback waves
winning trophies
and melodramatic
disarmament rapture.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Mesa Horizon

I need a twin.
Lets reject labels.
Wear this pin on your lapel.
Have fun today.
Widespread your environmental
The catalyst; bitterness.
Bitter because the bitches
in the world look out
to knock you down.
Getting back up is tough.
I want to freely lay on
the highway and get
run over
for my life to be over.
The end.


Can you control the sun in your hair?
The way it curves, the way you wear
you shirt wrinkled.
I like that kind of mess.
The dysphoria is a fondue mountain.
Come and wrap me in prosciutto
and we will eat our way out
into a dark cave
mingling with microorganisms,
it gives me micro organisms.
The machinima sends chills
a thoughtless prism onto the east.
If it ever eloped to the west,
we would be in trouble.
It may be a good thing if California sank
into the sea.

After Tones

A slip down the slope
shreds and tares skin
like the other times before
we melt the penny
and the copper burn me.

You ruined my smile
with a bruise to the cheek
yet did not kill the flower
or was it so sour?

Let us visit a brothel
and have us some fun
kick around our wild feet
until we grow tired
of the booze and blood.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

They Marked Me For Bearing Struggles

If it was not enough to wait there
standing still for hours
twas the memory of your face
as it first cast shadows on lilacs of spring crossover to summer.

Do you recall that feeling
when you see someone's face
and you fall in love
even if you know you could never
completely have him or her,
that one particular person belongs
to someone else.

Actually, what is to belong?
I know what it is to be alone.
An abalone,
sing to me the salt water air
when a gull reached out to
grab its food for free
yet at the cost of survival.

What is falling
and more importantly, in what
and for how long and if long,
will it be eternity?
Question me
question everything.
We are not bound to what
may or may not be on that
certain finger.

And here I am, struggling,
for what?
I carry nothing, but it might as well be everything.
I fancy myself on the thoughts of everything,
although it be nothing.
What goes on in my mind might be nothing
compared to what is buzzing your head.

Allow me just to backtrack
and apologize for nothing/everything
it is all too confusing
for this time at night 1:25 AM on a new Friday
with no one to be around,
no where to go.
DO I feel a sense of importance
or direction, NO.
Then what keeps my heart beating
and passion flowing?

Who's ever idea it was to have me living
on this earth made it so perfect
for others to feel superior whenever they
are around me.
Other are lucky that I will sit out
and let then gather the spotlight.
It's okay if I do not exist.
But I would like to have a friend.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Multiple Whys and So Many Crimes

Why am I the way I am?
And why do I have to hate myself?
Why can't I just feel positive?
Why can't I have confidence?
Or why does everything have to go wrong?

I capture so much anger
and it returns to melancholy.
"From snow to the 50s"
says the TV.
I hate life.
I am waiting for the next huge
disease to wipe out
half the worlds population.

I want to show my words
but I want to erase it
but I hope it goes unseen.
I can't do any better.
I don't know where I'm going.

Nobody Sees Me

Nope, I'm just not even there.
Forget about me.
Whatever. Bye.

The World Would Be Better

If I am no longer living in it.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

A Prestigious Path

If an alarm sounds off the ice cubes
tumble toward
hot counter meows
and ticket takers specialty is
what we all knew was plain as day.
What we have not seen was kindness
and the trust we desire the most

Don't Know

I can't interact with humans.