The Metallic Humor Machine

I hold the blade in my metacarpals.
All five fingers severed.
The chef prepares the five fingered stew
especially for you.
As you sit there chained to the table,
you feast on the flesh that falls off
the delicate bones.
I walk over to you and
peer over your shoulder.
Behind the bowl is the rejected
pieces of chewed flesh.
I am angered you did not
swallow my flesh!
I rush for the machete
and lop off your head!

The Youthful Echidna

The trilingual youthful echidna choir.
The tough crowd crew echidna clique.
The by stander effect echidna patrol tower.
The pasteurized echidna milk substitute.
The pulverized echidna mass murder.
The faulty echidna.
The scrutinized echidna.
The worthless echidna.
The enchilada echidna.
The kidney echidna.
The serious patron echidna.
The climbing echidna.
The frustrated echidna dietary supplement echidna.
The triple trial echidna.
The echidna attorney of law.
The youthful echidna, forever young,
forever all the above.
The echidna is made up of magical
fluff clustered in a cultured petri dish.
Have you ate your breakfast this morning?
If you have not ate your breakfast, chances are
the echidna is eating your breakfast.
Would you like to know why?
Tis because the winds change direction.
No wind blow the same hair twice...
nor shall the same echidna sleep in your bed.
What? What? What? What?

Changes in Thoughts

Words are only words.
The words that I know and love, I use and reuse, try to recycle them in such a way that it seems like an entirely new word. I may fool myself, but I don't fool the reader. What am I even trying to accomplish here? I dislike my sentence structure and I have never been good at writing my whole life. The way I write has held me back in every single class of mine. A professor pretty much gave me a D as a final grade and told me to my face, "What english classes did you take in high school? Why didn't you use the Writing Center?" And this is for an Art Education class mind you, he goes onto say, "Well at least you still can be an art therapist," with  smile on his face. I wish I broke down into tears, to let him see how hurt I was. Before this final evaluation went through at the half point of the semester I told him I was dropping this class, that I was struggling. He kept me in the class and told me he would help me. Some help right, every time I asked him questions, he would be surrounded by all the other girls in class that just completely gush over him, as he is some sort of God!

And yet, poetry is not real writing because I take as an art form.
What I cannot convey in my art, I feel as though I can write it out better.
I do not let poetry have any rules.
Freedom is poetry.
It is my form of revenge for
anything useless I have been told.

You May or May Not Want To Appease Me

Applaud me my darling apple trees
for letting you grow here on this soil.
I will take care of your apple youths
so as not to crush, bite, or let them age
in a terrible way that would thus
lead to the fall of humankind.
Therefore, let me kindle the friendship
of our Earth,
partake in song and dance,
feel my girth.
Gather fallen leaves,
vagabonds,
transcendental accidents;
accumulate them into the furnace.
Yes, let them burn, to save the
precious apples.
A vagrants' variety in sobriety
is fragrance  superiority over reliability.
Investigate this:
mustangs musings milling the months
among the allotted apricots allied ailments.

Groove Me With A Butchers Knife

"I was young I was so young it hurt like a knife inside
because there was no alternative except to hide as long
as possible - not in self-pity but with
dismay at my limited chance: trying to connect."

Charles Bukowski, “Friends Within The Darkness”
From You Get So Alone at Times

How can I be in love with myself
in spite of all my faults?
I have dreams of getting somewhere,
but lack of money holds me back.
Was going to college my biggest mistake?