June 3, 2012
I haven’t been blogging on here for a bit. I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately and posting it on a poetry page on Facebook. I’ll be publishing a poetry collection by October for the Underground Modern Poets of 2012 book.
Here’s a few samples
by Tara Seuss
…. my blood is boiling over and over. yes, it is over. make this nightmare stop. stop fucking asking me please, stop everything. stop you. you make me blue, i want you to be fucking true and i want to kill you. i want to kill these toils, troubles and fucking bubbles you cause, fuck off i’m sorry (audience please applause). burn burn, oh yeah, you’re gonna burn- kid you have no idea how much you have to learn. first lesson, you have to give if you want to earn. correction, put that lesson back on the shelf……your only hope is to be someone else. amen.
By Art Glibfunny
it was a box
just a box
yellow cages on it
containing confectionary animals
from worlds away
a consumable passport
it had a string
to carry it
it brought joy
life at large
and my place in the
thank you mom
days of my
as I cradle
a flat cookie creature
from my jaded
nap time is over
to the buster brown
so vital to
Untitled by Ilan Miller
My heart is a proximity mine, send in the dogs, pull the pin, change the channel, and watch your step.
Don’t come in, the waters not fine, the rats are abandoning ship, your favorite show has been cancelled, and violence prevails.
Life has become a sad 80s montage, only dumbed down. The finish lines been burned, there is no consolation prize.
My personal hell has frozen over, I grab my glass, my icepick and my whiskey and I think of days long gone…
There’s many more and I’ll post some here and there. If I didn’t post yours it’s only because I chose a few random great poems. Like I said-More to come!
April 12, 2012
It wasn’t the cockroaches and bugs coming out of everything I owned that bothered me as much as it was being caught in her bedroom with no explanation. I wasn’t even looking for her panties. No idea why I was there either.
Just an hour or so before (in central standard dream time), I was un-packed in my newest abode. I was happy with my house and my room. The decorations were up and the party had just begun. My ex-roommate came by to return a few things that turned into many things as my other friends returned from a holiday in Layover County and my house filled with new things and it was cluttering and cluttered and my mother arrived to visit the same time I was served my eviction notice.
I knew I would survive. I always survive. I survive. It get’s harder as I get older and want to stay in the same nest but this was my dream so I wasn’t older or younger I just was. I was reactionary.
That’s the girl I like came by from Texas and we somehow missed each other.
I gathered everything I owned and hid out wherever I could and I was alone. That’s when I appeared at her house with my bags full of stuff. It didn’t occur to me to knock like a human being so I came in through the bathroom window protected by a hope and a prayer. I was trying to straighten out my stuff. Stuff. My crap and the bugs started appearing everywhere. I thought it was controllable so I started killing them and then I looked up and saw the ceiling covered in them. At this point I was concerned with getting them off of me and ought of my hair. The door opened and it was her. Chelsea. She used to be the love of my loins that got away. I used to obsess so much over her but not at that moment.
Chelsea was in shock seeing me there she didn’t notice the bugs. I said “We need to talk but outside” as I shut the door and noticed her younger and now hotter sister and closed the door and the bugs were everywhere.
“What’s happening? What’s going on?” her sister asked.
I wish I knew.
I woke up and took a thorough imaginary shower and tried to remember more of this hallucinatory horror show of my mind.
This is all I know.
June 8, 2010
Give it up. Don’t stop. Give it up. Don’t stop. Carry on. Business as usual. Rotten tomatoes spoil my . . .my . . .My oh my what a wonderful day in the life of addiction fueled by everything I look at and touch. Evil. I touch evil and it touches me back so nicely so I kick back and relax and forget about the horrible world out there in here in my mind. I don’t mind it most times. Most times I embrace the evil and thrive on it. Most days when the helicopters fly and the dog shits on my lawn I smile and look the other way. I own my life and you can’t have it.
I have intense dreams where I am with her with you with them. Sexual menagerie. Love triangles and octagons and pyramids that go on forever in the desert of my life. The spit and the semen-covered floor I walk on, eat off of and sleep in rolls around and around and it never stops until I go back to my hiding spot.
I eat worms. I drive a car that doesn’t like to go anywhere. I have friends in high places. I have friends in low places. I have friends in no places. I have no friends and plenty of friends. I live in between reality and insanity. Wherever I am today is where I’m meant to be.
The cockpit is tight and claustrophobic. I whistle as best as I can and pray to a higher power that may or may not exist ofrlove me or hate me or want to fuck me. I fly in the spirit of those that never had it so good. I cry for those who have it better than me. I die for nothing and no one.
My maniacal, manic and cryptic scribblings are worthless to the real world but they are all I have so I go on pen in hand or finger on keyboard mouth to air and shout out everything I am until it’s gone for the moment, The next time I don’t know.