These are some poems that i wrote recently. they are not very good, but i thought people would like to see them. enjoy.

Love
(to Ellaine, the love of my life. i don't always show it, but i love and care for you more than anything else in the entire world. i love you.)

Always fleeing farther down
Leaving all trace behind
Beautiful and perfect She is

Catching an eel, slick and fast.
Hold on tight to it
Wonderful and delighting

Having is not keeping though
Can be lost forever
Cherish and care for Perfect

Missing out on happiness
Hours go, emptiness
As your life passing me by.



Sounds of Life
tweet. tweet.
Honk. “Hey Asshole”
“Fuck you.” “No. Fuck you”
Cars wizzing, zooming, crashing.
“That’s it now stretch your buttocks.
And Left, and Right, and…”
What we really need is
“Sex. That’s all he ever thinks about.”
“Sex. That’s all she ever thinks about.”
“Like, whatever. And he was like, ‘Hey Babe.’”
waaa. waaa. “Is he teething?”
“No, I’m fine. She really wasn’t worth it.”
“What a loser. Can you believe he cried?”
Cars wizzing, zooming, crashing.
Life moving by, never stopping, never changing
Sex. Violence.
tweet. tweet.


Asleep

Lying here,
Thinking
Death
Comes now
But, sleep…no
Sheep

Pillows biting
Gnawing, yawning.
No. Put my earmuffs on the cookie
I love you.

Hate filled ecstacy
Deflowering young mammalians with
Nomincalture and symbolism shows us
The epistemology of “cunt” used in

Whats an SOB?
The Godafather will see you

Sheep
But, sleep…no
Comes now
Death
Thinking
Lying here,

Never.


The Truth of Our Culture

Culture, this we ALL live in, is worthless
Always trying, completing not, using
Other peoples HARD EARNINGS but not
Like how and when or why things are: Useless

Knowing and growing knowledge escapes us
LIES, theft, honoring no one, lives mean naught
T.V. tells us to think. 451. CAUGHT
Cheaters always prosper. People fight. Us?

Like, you no, what does it matter I get
CNN says no terror, reaching more
People everyday, who care’s? Rating Soar
Yours, mine ours? Who’s No one that I have met.

Even this bit, it is self-righteous tripe
Hand over the bill, a red and white stripe.


OF ME

Thing of me
Think of me always
Sounds, Deathening
Growing Slowly
Lives surplanted
Ethics ruined
Moreys sown
On Salted Earth
Grapes of Wrath
Venging the Wreathful
Looming yellow fingers
Pulsating purple pussy
Groomed cheeks
Lips pursed
Aging Never
Usher in
Forgetting Life
Using Nothing
Barrels is filling
Never gaining
The key never
Opens the treasure
Within no known henge
Stones reaching
Out to others
Thinking of me