• Poetry
  • April5th

    2 Comments

    Posted in: Poetry

    BIKINI CONTEST

    - Children - naughty children - women non the less…..
    - Everyone one of them
    - Yes curves
    - Yes of age
    - Yes still trying to please and fresh to put on a show…..
    - nothing compelling @ it, except for the ass on one of those brown girls -
    - Oh there are curves
    The base in me responds, of course !
    I am a man
    No apology
    - in contrast —- a needed apology for the camera phone frat boy Front row fodder

    - The sports bar
    -A distant planet
    -A strange breed
    -The dwelling of inactive
    -a temple of spectators
    -Men in baseball hat vernacular
    Urge titans in tights
    -only the language of well worn bar wood speaks to me
    -bacardi and coke at this bar she says thrusting bartender tits in my face…. Her spell is feeble - I get neither
    - I sit
    - I type
    - I wonder why
    - Always why
    -Once you have a real women
    You don’t go back …
    -Not to the girls
    -The booze
    -Or the bar
    - no,no - for me I am Content to feel the warmth of well worn bar wood and soak up the advantage of
    distance
    pardon typos
    Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T





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  • April5th

    No Comments

    Posted in: Poetry

    BIKINI CONTEST

    - Children - naughty children - women non the less…..
    - Everyone one of them
    - Yes curves
    - Yes of age
    - Yes still trying to please and fresh to put on a show…..
    - nothing compelling @ it, except for the ass on one of those brown girls -
    - Oh there are curves
    The base in me responds, of course !
    I am a man
    No apology
    - in contrast —- a needed apology for the camera phone frat boy Front row fodder

    - The sports bar
    -A distant planet
    -A strange breed
    -The dwelling of inactive
    -a temple of spectators
    -Men in baseball hat vernacular
    Urge titans in tights
    -only the language of well worn bar wood speaks to me
    -bacardi and coke at this bar she says thrusting bartender tits in my face…. Her spell is feeble - I get neither
    - I sit
    - I type
    - I wonder why
    - Always why
    -Once you have a real women
    You don’t go back …
    -Not to the girls
    -The booze
    -Or the bar
    - no,no - for me I am Content to feel the warmth of well worn bar wood and soak up the advantage of
    distance
    pardon typos
    Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T





    Bookmark and Share
  • March15th

    2 Comments

    Posted in: Poetry

    Waiting room -

    Do u squeeze your lemonade ?
    Yea -
    Do u have a big container -
    Oh yea -
    Ok ok do you use fresh water -
    Oh yea that makes it that much better -
    Oh yea baby -

    pardon typos
    Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T





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  • March12th

    No Comments

    Posted in: Poetry

    Heavy and just a bit to the left-
    The nebula of her hair -
    My nest -
    Drops of dew -
    Moist with love -
    Body temperature rain -
    gently slide - eventually fall

    pardon typos
    Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T





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  • November29th

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    the SQUID

    Posted in: Blog, Poetry

    Begins the transcluescent march/
    floor of the depth continues to me/
    The liquidy pulse
    Of  jungian sea/
    tempature  numb
    forest of water/
    Aqua zombie
    In monotone beat/
    Growing in size
    undulating key/
    music begins black
    And blacker soon it shall be/
    floating and floating in this feel nothing sea





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  • November22nd

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    the BROWN STONE fox

    Posted in: Poetry





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  • November14th

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    brandon busch

    Posted in: Poetry

    A Died in the wool
    Son of a bitch
    Soft and real like
    A baseball bat full of nails to the heart
    Brandon busch
    A giant of a man in a poets body

    pardon typos
    Sent via BlackBerry from Cingular Wireless





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  • November14th

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    Fury # 1

    Posted in: Blog, Poetry

    Oh the fury/
    seductive yes,
    But just know, she is no muse…….
    This siren is a smash and grab criminal /
    This bitch is aggravated assault
    On all 5 counts /
    She is a leg less cunt/ overpriced coffee/
    second hand smoke/
    A finger in the eye/
    big huge blue balls on a dead winter night/
    Across town traffic/
    My insides burn like petrol flames on the sea





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  • November13th

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    Hello to the count down

    Posted in: Blog, Poetry

    The smells/Odor Offensive at the very least  Creepy into soul at worst/Near fatal exhalations whisper from every room down the forever hallway of surgery lung and heart/ Reward to risk no where in site/ just the currency of overpriced life/ One more day /One more breath /One more catheter /One more blip on the monitor //////No more dignity/  No more innocence /No wonder like a child/ No protection/  Time turns to a cold lover /Say hello to the countdown





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  • November12th

    No Comments

    The MUTUAL THROB

    Posted in: Poetry

    Two weeping eyes Drained down to the numb - The TV. Is stuck on reruns - Pen to paper my mind flashes The sky/what I need is A list of weapons to penetrate my prescribed bubble wrap coffin - Cut me/ Fight me/ bite me / Penetrate me/ I penetrate you……….. Anything to let me know I am not walking this earth as a ghost - Slap me/ Fuck me/ Scar me/ Stain me/ Put a barrel in my mouth and trigger me away from a life as undead -
    Elegantly I bind you and precious you hang from my christmas tree/ Perhaps one of us chokes the other so hard we can see the veins pounding through our paper thin skins, our hearts rocket to mirror the mutual throb - - ENOUGH For gods sakes pull one of my teeth NOW/QUick before I put down this pen - coat hangers are on the stove, come over and we can kindly burn some clarity into each other and blow away the fog





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