8:30 on a hopful thirsty thursday

Alright... It's 8:30. As you know (If you've read up to this point) I dropped my first class so I now get about an hour extra in the morning to do whatever it is I feel necessary. Sadly, since one of the roommates brothers, and his friends, stole food at the house I usually party at on Thursdays, we can no longer hold our weekly festivity of thirsty Thursday there. Which is lame and makes me sad. So my duty today is to find a new, better place to party on a Thursday!

Today I feel like free-styling a poem for everyone. In this poem, I will try to work in the work heliotropic, as per Guenette's challenge. Here it goes!


Mosaics vs. Tile-Flooring

The grout or the caulk,
Some never could tell the difference,
I find myself in the same situation sometimes,
Attempting to figure out who's where,
And where's his fake hair?

Then again there are other factors,
Which play into "Whos on first.",
And my plant being on second,
They don't realize the gum will stick,
And the man on second is heliotropic.

A grand master of his art,
Used to destroy all his pieces claiming,
They're not good enough!
Apparently he never thought of the journey,
Maybe it was that he ate too much gournay?

Some never know,
Some never think,
Some never thank,
Some never will,
Some never kill...
At least that's finally a plus, eh?

A taxing/tragic tuesday

Alright, so I dropped my aerobics/weight-training class... Well, mainly I just stopped going because I missed too many classes. So... Forget it? That's all dandy with me. Just hope I pass the rest of my classes.

As for Tuesday, I've got a poem that's been in the writing book #2 for... A couple weeks now. Here it is...

Midnight in a Dream

The critter laid near
No more noise out of it
Though the bushes still rustled
At least in my mind
Like a dog chasing its tail
I continued down the pier
Maybe Jesus cheated too?
The night grew long
As the clock faded out
But I was content with the screams
Insidious eyes watched me from the clouds
The moon smiled though
Contemplation was a must
If not just for sanity
Never will I remember who called to me
Then again, never will I forget their voice
Alleyways smelled like old cheese and perfume
A mingling of scents I would seldom condone
Singing in the distance, off key of course
Familiar but indiscernible
Like a death rattle from a dwarf
Lights of neon flickering, cheap bars still open
Thunderous footsteps like a human millipede
I didn't bother to look
A window broke my train of thought
Then I realized I had made it home.

A slow saturday

So it was a crazy night last night. As usual. I went to a party near Emerald st again. Good times, new people met, people I met last week re-met, went to see my lovely girlfriend, came back, saw a buncha people I didn't know, a fight broke out downstairs, got hit in the back of the head while ushering people out... I was in peace-keeper mode so, thankfully, I decided not to do anything but bitch about it. Then partied more!

So yeah, it was great fun. Though now it's Saturday and now I'm sitting at home with nothing to do but watch movies on T.V. Or, of course, write. Which it seems I shall do.

I've got another poem for ya.

Flavor of Captivation
Dark clouds loom overhead again,
But hope shines through the hole-punched depression.

The rays of god cast shadows,
Like stones over a lake.

Who still fishes for gold on the beach?
They don't know buried treasure lies in books?

Pages of unread gold, burned before birth,
The abortion of inspiration is a true crime,

Pleasant breezes make me apathetic,
Like bananas to primates in stereotypicaland.

Feeling... Down?

Feeling down? Watch this crazy German kid.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBVmfIUR1DA

As for poetry I believe I've got one for ya, it's been sitting in the writing book for a couple weeks now. So here ya go.

Keep on Talkin

Talk, talk, talk,
That's all these mother fuckers do,
Maybe they should try doing something,
That requires a mind,
Drones droning about anything but that which makes sense,
Contemplating walking out is where it leaves me.

Ramble, Ramble, Ramble,
Why won't they stop?
Is it always necessary to continue?
Apparently they think it is,
Then again, I could be wrong,
Or I could be one of them too.

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch,
I guess that's all I do,
Whoever said bitching is bad,
Obviously never had to sit here,
And listen to these "geniuses",
Since I feel my I.Q. dropping just listening.

Blah, Blah, Blah,
I wonder if they ever stop,
I'm on the brink of retardation now,
So I think it's time to leave,
A migraine is an understatement as to what they left me with...
Wait... Thank SOMEONES God...

They finally stopped.

Sunday...

Well, after a nice weekend of tomfoolery and falling down/up stairs, through screen doors, it's time to get to work on life again huh? Makes me sad, but hey, maybe someone will read this poem I decided to share.

The man then the TV

"A ficus, no... Wait what do they look like again?"
A balding man once asked me
The sweat on my palms dried as he walked away
Morality sounds like a strategy now-a-days
Maybe I'm the strategist?

Someone looked like the pope today
Turned out to be a computer analyst
Was I wrong to yell at that car?
It looked like shit
But smelled like money.

The stars never showed tonight
They stood me up again
The smoke from the horizon comforted me
Like cuddling with a stranger
But it felt so right.

The pictures all had the same expressions
Overly intense to the point of bordem
Fake smiles and too many polos
This fashion statement never should have been
Like too much eyeshadow or crocs.

Super-strength in ones own mind
Doesn't make up for being old
Maybe TV makes us like that
Or maybe a lack of apathy
I doubt we'll ever know.

The no hangover friday

So I woke up today around 11 to a call from my favorite sexy minor. Maybe I'm a pervert for thinking such things? Either way, I'm wondering if I should give you one or two... Or maybe even my entire Haiku session from yesterday... Along with the poems I wrote... Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm... We'll go with the Haikus today.

-Is It True?-
Is it true? They ask,
Sometimes I wonder myself,
Then comes apathy.

-Untrue Love- (I might have to use this title again sometime)
Fleeting emotion,
Is this actually love?
None will ever know.

-Maybe someone cares?-
Sharing is caring,
Who really cares anymore?
Ideologists?

-Deserved Sleep-
Too tired to live,
Revitalizing coma,
Rebirth tomorrow.

-Christ-
Walking on water,
Like he was gods one true son,
Wisdom was his lie.

-Inner Song-
The beat continues,
In sync with the melody,
It should never stop.

-Hope Vs. Will-
Hope can guide your path,
But will will drive you onward,
To achieve your goal.


So those are a few of my haikus... I actually decided I'll give you a full poem too. So many to choose from... Eh, I'll go with Who First?

Who First?
Who first decided to paint the sky?
Who first made music?
Who first said someone else wasn't as good as them?
Who first smoked a joint on the beach?
Who first spoke a coherent word?
Who first died of alcohol poisoning?
Who first planted a tree?
Who first found love? The true kind that is.
Who first wore a belt, rather than pants that fit?
Who first discovered god?
Who first claimed god wasn't real?
Who first ran a mile in someone else's shoes?
Who first betrayed their dearest friend?
Who first lied for personal gain?
Who first told someone they couldn't?
Who first... Wrote?

^_^

Alright, so I decided to make a new blog for my anger/ranting/ire/etc... This way, those of you who enjoy my writing won't be offended & those of you who like my rantiness (yes, I made it up) won't be bored by my poetry and writing.

Fair enough?

I hope so. Have a good thirsty Thursday!

The anticipation of Thirsty Thursday...

The agony of waiting to be with many a friend eats at me... I sit here listening to up-beat, intense music. Daft Punks "Homework" to be exact. I wish it had Better, Harder, Faster, Strong on it... I love that song. I hate Kanye Whiniest even more for having butchered such a good piece of music.

Well, I thought I might share another recent poem with all of you. Soon I'll also be putting one of my older short stories up here, called "The Mask". If you enjoy my writing, I think you'll enjoy it.

Lady Bug
Its hue matched the liquid on my pants,
"Is that mine or his?"
I thought, but it didn't matter anymore.

Like the tears dried from an old memory,
The lady bug had gone,
But the song it sang to me that day,
Will live on as a theme to melancholy.

Another poem I've got that I feel like sharing is up now. I got my inspiration from a title in the book Actual Air, which I was lent by my english teacher Matthew Guenette (who is linked over on the left side... If you're too slow/lazy to hold up both hands to see which one makes an L, your left is <- that-a-way.) and is by David Berman. It's quite a good read. Anyway, onto the poem.

See Ex Eye
The ground shook like after-shock,
As the train passed by,
It reminded me of anger,
But I was sad inside.

I thought of Shannon,
Knowing the last time I'd seen her,
Would be exactly that.

I can't be reminded of the past,
When they live in the future,
And goals set in the now,
Are as far past as the train.



Well, that's my post for today, hope you enjoyed it... Hope anyone read it...
Cheers to my tomorrow.

Some of my art

I havn't done any art in a long time since my computer decided to commit suicide... The cause of death is still unknown, and unfixable... BUT! Here they are, my "Surreal Skapes":




Hope you enjoy them. I'm thinking of writing a poem about each one, maybe attempting to remember or re-write the metaphors behind them all...

Random poetry

To preface this large post, fuck poetry.com they're a bunch of scam-artist fucks.

Also, all of this is early poetry, so try not to think too lowly of it, all of it was written between 12 and 16 years of age.

Anger
All those things,
You said to me,
All the hate,
I felt set free,
Sitting here,
Snarling teeth,
Staring blankly,
With bloody jeans,
I sit and cry,
About those times,
As the tears fall,
Into the red,
I know it would happen,
The same way again.

Enigmatic
Soon the slate will be scraped clean,
None will see the light of life,
For blind they will be,
To be able to see,
The light that is,
The Enigma,
Around the mystery,
Sitting next to the conundrum,
That blankets those who are worthy.

Her
She brings that feeling,
That feeling of bliss,
She knows I hate to say it,
That odd word kiss,
She brings out my oddities,
And some of the rest,
She makes me feel comfortable,
Not like I'm undressed,
I feel a thing,
Down deep in my gut,
She says I have talent,
Not just a shear lust,
So I write this for her,
She knows who she is,
And I want her to know,
I can say "kiss".

Loving Another
I yearn to love you, but locked in a cage,
Is your heart, your heart so tender, sweet,
And kind, I wish for all, but none abide,
I wish to see you inside out, but all is
Held, in a box of black, my mind, your
Heart, they seem to say...
"We do not love, but will never part..."

Confusion
All of the questions,
Hit me at once,
I look for the proof,
But there isn't enough.

I sleep with a tissue,
To catch my tears,
And even that memory,
Carries my fears,

The loss of the life,
I feel I've earned,
Makes me feel empty,
And I know inside . . .

Confusion will follow.

True Sadness
I thought I was tough,
I said I wouldn't cry,
It's funny about the pain,
You feel when someone dies.

I talked the same,
And stood there again,
But outside I couldn't hide,
How I really felt inside.

As the tears streamed down,
I let out no sob,
Not a whimper or a sniffle,
But still I cry.

I hate the sadness,
That certain things bring,
But I will stay strong,
For the memory of him.

The Sun Mist
The breeze that fills your elegant hair,
The glittering drops of gods tears,
The sun looks down upon your soul,
And seems to say "Hello!"

You look at the clouds, that bring the mist,
And left in the puddles,
You link the grist,
In that day, you saw a life, a life of yours,
In a forgein kind.

You run from the mist and sooth the sun,
You take the grist from all above,
The things that lasted took away,
And the you take a bath...

From the Sun's Mist.

So those are some of my early poems, hope you enjoy.

First post

I thought I ought to start this out interesting, so here's a little poem that I wrote today about my job.

Routine
Yawn, coffee, ring, ring...
"Hello?"
"Hi my name-"
Click.

Yawn, coffee, ring, ring...
I hang up before they can,
This job hates me,
But I hate it more.
The routine is fine,
Kind of like hitting the snooze button,
But this time on life.

Yawn, coffee, ring, ring...
"Hello?"
"Hi my name-"
"Fuck off."
Click.

I wish they'd let me start,
Maybe if I call them obscenities first?
To grab their attention at least?

Either way, I hear it buzzing again,
Oh shit...
I can't find the snooze.


So, that's "Routine" (I would underline it, but I don't feel like putting the effort into the html right now.) I write to keep out of its loop as much as possible. There will be many more poems, short stories, rants, etc up soon. I might decide to take this habit up, who knows?