Monday, March 10, 2008

I think I'm done with this.

Not my relationship which has gotten better than it was prior to all the other bullsh*t that occurred, but my blog. I've lost readers and I've found that I feel anxious if I don't have responses. So I'm thinking I'm just going to stop posting. I'll probably check back in a few days or a week or so to see if anyone has any objections.


Thursday, March 6, 2008

All's well on the girlfront but school still sucks.

So all's well with Hallee now. I've dealt with it harshly and swiftly.

One of Pandora's Boxes

Little boxes that look like presents,
At least in the way they're presented.
Pain and suffering are said to be their allure,
Is it -all- humanity in which is allured?
Lust or love, which is the one we crave?
Why is it we catch ourselves in the middle of craving?
Is the meaning of life to win?
Why do we all feel like losing?

Monday, March 3, 2008


L o O

Love or obsession?
Clever deception?
With a citation...
Who cares to think anymore
Then again, had to before.
Who is whole...

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Yet... Again.

God... F*cking... D*mnit...

We were playing "Questions." The game where people ask each other questions back and forth and the person who's answering must be honest.

She asks me 'In the time before we were going out did you mess around with any other women?' Since I'm a person of high moral character, obviously not.

Then just for fun I ask her the same question. Turns out before we were going out, she didn't. But the day we STARTED officially being a mutually exclusive couple she kissed another guy... She f*cking kissed another guy the DAY WE STARTED DATING...

I decided to give her another chance because I do have faith she won't do it again and because she started to cry and begged me not to leave her. Agree? Disagree? Comments? Thoughts?

I've got no poems right now, sorry.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

A huge sigh of relief

It's all good now. Thank whatever f*cking God there may be.

I found a tape not too long ago that was of a play I was in in the 4th grade. We didn't have a vcr in the house, or so I thought, until Hallee said she wanted to watch Disney movies, which we only have on vhs. So I went downstairs like the good boyfriend I am and turned the place upside down in hopes of location a video cassette recorder. Turns out my intuition and sweaty anger-throws aided my discovery of an ancient vcr.

Due to this, I had to watch my video. Because of this video I will be writing a very long poem about growing up sometime in the coming days.

Slainte, Chris.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Are all of you sexist?

To paraphrase I can't f*cking believe she said that the only reason males talk to females is because they want sex. You can tell this isn't going to be a cheery post already. And if you can't, do us all a favor and euthanize yourself.

It started out a regular good conversation. Then got into the thing about her not liking me talking to other girls out of jealousy; that part is fine. Then I talk about my friends who are girls. Then she says something that is, for now and I think will remain, unforgivable.

Hallee: The only reason guys talk to girls is for sex.
Me: So it's impossible for men to actually want to talk to women because they might actually find them interesting and want to hang out with them?
Hallee: Yeah.
Me: So why do I have friends that are girls?
Hallee: I don't know... So that if a relationship doesn't work out you could go try to have sex with one of them?
Me: ....... *deep breath so I don't tell her how bad I want to kick a hole in the wall* So the only reason I'm with you or have female friends or EVER talk to any woman is because I want to stick my c*ck in her?
Hallee: Well, I mean you act like a good guy and everything but... Yeah.

Any comments or insight? Agree or disagree? Or will the faith that I've let begin to fall lead to disaster and faithlessness in women?

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Phew that feels good

I was talking to my girlfriend yesterday and realized it wouldn't be easy to get her unmad about that whole issue. So I skipped class with her and we talked for a good 3 1/2 hours about things that were bugging us, now we're dandy. *Mumbles something about relationships*

Anyway! I've got an OTTOTH for you today.

Screaming of the Lambs

I hear them...
Clawing at my mind,
Night after night.

They look harmless...
Until you see their rotting flesh,
And then they snap and bite.

Twisting my thoughts...
I try to rid myself of them,
Though they won't leave without a fight.

Agony seems to drive them...
Is it them or me?
If only I could find which of us was right...

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Another Tuesday

Bah! Fuck Mondays. They always have some sort of negative outcome, and I'm an optimistic person. More girlfriend trouble... I hope you all learn something from the situation I'm about to post.

So my girlfriend has slight ganja abuse problems. She also thinks I have slight alcohol abuse problems. Those are just for reference in the situation.

So the girlfriend, myself, and our mutual female friend decide to go to a party. Prior to said party girlfriend & friend get high. Incredibly high. Brand-name weed high, high. Again, reference.

-The Story of Why Chris is Pissed this Tuesday-

We go to this party, and I start playing beer pong. Both gf and f are still in the living room of this place, talking. A while passes and I begin to get sort of drunk, just feelin good, etc. (So no black-outs or anything, I remember the night clear as day.)
Then, eventually the party livens up and there are a hell of a lot of people there. So gf and f go into this guys room in the back. Now I wouldn't usually have a problem with this part(and it's only slight irritation) but because my girlfriend likes opiates and coke, I refuse to leave her alone too long in the bedroom of someone who sells it.
So I go in and out of the room a few times, attempt to socialize with the gf and f, and they're both too high (I've got no sources or any information pointing to if or if not gf did coke that night, but I'm guessing she didn't.) to even talk to me. So basically I'm ditched at this party, WHILE THEY'RE THERE.
I'm fine with this, ya know whatever I'm just going to go drink some more and meet new people, right? Wrong. Eventually I realize that there's no one there that isn't preoccupied with other people aside from these 2 women I don't know.
I walk over and start up a conversation for lack of anything better to do. I sit down, nurse my beer, and just talk to these two women. Eventually, since I usually do so that I can make friends and all, I ask one of them for their number.
Just as I do that, girlfriend walks out and sees me doing this. I'm fine with it, it was just an innocent conversation after I had been ditched in a whole new way, right? Wrong. She gets angry and accuses me of hitting on this girl and asking me "why would you want to party with her" and blah blah blah, blah blah, blah mother fucking blah.

So that's the story... Which took place on friday night. It's not tuesday morning and she's still pissed about it, doesn't trust me, and thinks I'm potentially unfaithful.

OH! Also, I said I'm fine with the idea that I can't meet any new females, BUT, that means she shouldn't be able to meet any new male friends either, just for fairness sake right? I'm still waiting for the girlfriends take on this because after I brought it up last night "I don't want to talk about it." became her mantra.

I think this could lead to interesting thought. I had planned on putting up an OTTOTH(off-the-top-of-the-head) poem, but I'm too angry at this given moment.

Have a good tuesday!

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Valentines Day

So of course I wrote a poem for my girlfriend today. Actually I wrote it the sunday before jail sunday, I'll post that one when I get my hands on it again, since I don't remember all of it off the top of my head. But today, in the spirit of this corporate scheme, I'll write 2 poems: 1 for singles and 1 for couples.

Pink Hearts on Valentines Day

Gleeful and fun
The snow outside aside
Basking in the sun
We'll make love
Until the day is done.

Cheesy phrases heard all day
The birds outside chirping
Like it was the month of May
The feelings we have swell more and more
And no one could make this feeling gray.

Pinks, whites, and all the hues of red
Complexity becomes simple
When we lay here in bed
And I can smile when I think of
All the things we've said.

The Single on Valentines Day

Unmatched amounts of bliss
The adventure unique today
Maybe just to find that kiss
On no other day
Is the search quite like this.

Something quizzical lingers in the air
The smell of something new
Not all of challenges will be fair
Though the singles push on
And break ice with a large teddy bear.

The things they hear the couples say
Could bring hope or disgust
The only thing that gets in their way
Is if they decide to not
Have a happy Valentines Day.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Jail is being a domesticated animal

So I did my little stint of jail time. Only friday-sunday. It was alright. Could have been a lot worse. Surprisingly there are interesting people in jail, although every single one of them has been in and out of jail a lot. What the fuck?! You'd think after the first or second time they'd go "hey, I don't want to be stuck in here anymore." But no. They continue... Fucking idiots.

So jail. It's like being a domesticated animal. You have a small space you're confined to.

-I was in a place called the Ferris center which is a place for people to be stuck there but also get to go to work, since they weren't too bad. So it was basically a main room about 15 x 45. With 8 small off-shoots which housed 3 steel bunk-beds, and 6 lockers. There was also a bathroom which had 3 toilets, 1 urinal, 4 showers, and 4 sinks.-

So back to the animal feeling. There's the small confined place, analogous to a house for a pet. You get fed when they feed you (which was 5:15, 11:00, and 5) which is obviously how most house pets have to deal with it. You don't get to go outside. Now this is a bit different for animals, even worse one might say, because I had the ability piss whenever I wanted. Animals usually have to be let out.

I now understand why dogs get so excited when they can go for a walk. I would have attempted a backflip if one of the deputies would have put a lease on me and said "let's go outside!" even though it was -20 out.

All in all, I now will be diligently walking my dog whenever I can, or taking her for car rides or something, because we all take for granted to freedom we have just by being able to open doors.

Onto the poem. I didn't get the inspiration to write while inside jail but I did while talking to my girlfriend (who I started dating Feb 1st of this year.) on the phone last night. It was an idea that popped into my head while thinking of past relationships, so I'm going to write this off the top of my head.

Trust without Trust

You say that you care about me
You've been wrong in the past, I understand.
You say you 'mainly' trust me
Yet all of my trust you demand.

Why is it I should invest myself
When you refuse to follow suit?
Why should I give my all
When you only give the minute?

Expecting everything from me
Heart soul and mind.
Yet what I get from you
I am forced to find.

Semantics and excuses
Become your weaponry,
I do hope you realize
You're conjuring catastrophe.

No more will I endure this tragedy
Your wish no longer my command,
Our once flourishing paradise
Now lay buried by your hand.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Jail in less than 24

So due to some trouble (a second OWI(operation while intoxicated)) I'm going to be in jail this weekend. Though I decided I would leave a poem for all (so... 2-5) my readers.

The Recurring Nightmare

I "wake up" to a dry puddle of tears,
Welling in my pillow,
Another day to chase nothing,
Has arrived again.

"Another day another dollar,"
"A penny saved is a penny earned,"
Why?! For what purpose?!
Who coined these mind-numbing phrases?!

I "wake up" to a dry puddle of tears,
Welling in my pillow,
Another day to chase nothing,
Has arrived again.

I guess I'll daydream,
Since I can't sleep without the dread,
I'll daydream of a deeper meaning,
Something to make -everyone- alright again.

I "wake up" to a dry puddle of tears,
Welling in my pillow,
Another day to chase nothing,
Has arrived again.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Thursdays without being thirsty suck.

So it's thursday... Usually I would be eagerly awaiting a thirsty thursday at someones house, but not today. I decided a few days back that I'm going to stop drinking for a while, and I can't smoke ganja either. So I'm completely in my mind... God that's fuckin' scary. To be stuck with yourself is bad enough, but to be stuck with ME... Hope I survive it. Either way, I've got another poem, and on a side note, I've decided to run for president for 2012... Seriously.

A Vantage on Campus

I watch all the people walk by,
I wonder how many of them are high,
Maybe I should ask?

I read a chapter called "how to wonder,"
People don't have that skillful thunder?!
I would perish if I were them.

I watch them walk,
More like lumber or mindlessly stalk,
I hope none of them are terminal.

I saw a shirt that read "Hurley,"
Written in a fashion that reminded me of a swirley,
I contemplate if those are given anymore.

I watch the waves of bodies flood in,
Enemies? Friends? Possibly kin?
Any of the above are fine,
As long as they're optimistic.

Monday, January 28, 2008


I've got another poem though this one was inspired by those "there once was a man from nantucket" poems.

In a Bucket

there once was a man from Nantucket,
Who was sure he lived in a bucket,
He hated me and he hated you,
All because his house was blue,
He had absolutely no friends,
Liked his roads to have lots of bends,
Had a dog, actually a beagle,
Utterly despised those "god damn seaguls,"
He wasn't scared at all of death,
Even though he smoked pounds of meth,
Believing we are one with the Earth,
Although he was taught Christianity from birth,
Sometimes he'd play tiddlywinks,
And often he would watch races for pinks,
But it all came down to life in the bucket,
Which is why one day he finally said "fuck it."

Monday, January 21, 2008

Martin Luther King Jr Day

I'm not doing much of anything right now aside from finishing homework and waiting for a friend to call. I've got a poem for you guys, not that I'm experiencing what it's about (obviously) but I thought it's alright.

Writers Block

Seemingly insurmountable,
Anger ensues.
Life seems to stop,
As though a phantom stole your soul.
How and why are questions that ensnare,
Though they fall on the deafest of ears.
One true cure is a new muse,
Or a change of scenery,
But nothing short of a miracle,
Will stop such carnage and agony.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

English 2

So I'm sitting in my English 2 class, not listening to my Bulgarian teacher speaking in her accent. Nothing against Bulgaria/ns but I'm not sure she should be teaching an English class. Since none of you have really looked at my post about being robbed I guess I must have bored you and will now add a few poems.

Who Knows Where It Is We Go

It's an impossibility to know
when, where, or why we go
After death, that is.

I wonder how religious zealots
came to their conclusions?
Maybe too many drugs.

The only thing that is absolute
Is that some time we will go
Though the mystery of such a thing...

It's what drives us to be the best
the top-tier humans of our time
The unique thirst of recognition.

Hopefully one day we'll have an idea.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

What in the mother of fuck...

Yes, angry title for an angry post. Usually I take rejection quite well... BUT this is a fucking travesty. I didn't get published in my schools paper for my poetry, which usually wouldn't piss me off EXCEPT for the fact that "Who First?", "Flavor of Captivation", "Mosaics vs. Tile-Flooring", "Routine", and "The man then the TV" didn't win over any of these:

First place goes to:

Marilyn M. Winkley
Night Watch

I sat beside you in that pale room,
watching eyes move beneath translucent lids
fragile as a Luna moth’s wings. You,
who had been so strong, trembled under sheets,
plucked at your cathetered penis,
mewled like an infant
caught in the sweat of night terrors.

I sat by helpless, remembering
those hands, knuckles swollen
from too many fights, brushing my chestnut hair
gently, struggling to tie it back in a white satin bow.
You gave up on an exhale.
That day my hair swung free,
tangling with each rise of the swing.

The orderly said you would never wake. I
thanked him for his help, silently
wishing him to Hell. Later,
eyes dark as mine opened.
“Who took the air out of the room?” you rasped.
I had no answer as
midnight moved over and into us.

Not ready to die, you asked that I wash your hair,
clip your nails. The orderly, amazed, brought a tray.
I massaged thick liquid onto scalp, removed it
with damp cloth, towel dried your hair.
I kept the white crescents of your nail clippings.
You gave up on an exhale.
I did not cry.

Second place goes to:

Shelley Peckham
How Stella Got Her Mojo Pin Back

Tradition poisons
The death of purpose and the birth of evolution
It’s survival of the sheepish
The dream of clarity with a Das Kapital “K”
Conscience abandoned, left bleeding in the tangles of the emperor’s new clothes
Pistols at dawn, day, dusk and darkness
Wasn’t it easier when
Intelligence was ink
Death was a phone call
And you paid no attention to the man behind the curtain?
Your cause is shocked and awed into the maimed limbs of the lucky ones
My signature forged into the side of the bomber
Enola Gay Marriage Banner
Flown by those Hairy True Men
Drunk on the blood of Christ and
Choking on His flesh
Who invented new words for liar
But still, the extinguished have more to burn
And so you wave your white powder for the chemical surrender
It’s only a party after all
Purchased status of substance
Just like everything else
Get it up, slow it down and keep it together
And walk beside the new prophets
While the fifth horseman lives next door
His viscera smacking its lips
He stayed the course
He followed the tracks on my arms

Third place goes to:

Kay Kartechner

As the butterfly metamorphoses
within its private chamber,
to emerge and unwrap
its fragile wings of dust,
so do our souls transform…
unknown and unseen
and mysterious,
encased in ego
and earthy matter;
the grist of God’s alchemy.

Now honestly, can anyone please look back at the poems I listened, and compare them to these to either tell me I'm nuts for thinking I was robbed, or tell me that I'm right and that this is bullshit? Thank you.