Monday, November 2, 2009

united states of apathy

wake up hysteria,
good morning america;
don't panic but your
countries senile;
the politicians are evil.
what's the media feeding you?
propaganda and slander,
B. S. by the bushel,
big oil officials,
deceit by the barrel
thats current america.
But I pledge allegiance
to corporate america;
to the united states of apathy
and oxymorons; one nation
under Allah with liberty, justice
and health insurance for
those who can afford it.
my country isn't free,
sweet land of irony.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

storm

Haze and gray clouds maze down and shroud
the sky; as rain falls thunder claps cry aloud.
And upon the porch, a slippery plank lie;
a dangerous fate; a predestined time.
But then its to late you trip and commence
shattering glass fragments.
Slit wrists and bloody fingertips
drenched in soggy wine drips
as you slip to the floor; drift off and snore.
Blood stains and gore as you
bleed out and breathe out no more;
drift on to explore; ride off on the storm.

metropolitan motion


Constant commotion,
metropolitan motion.
Sirens sings,
like city sirens.
Like traffic lights blink
and turn signal wink,
city lights twinkle
like little stars everywhere.
How I love these starry nights.

what the fucks poetry?

what the fuck's poetry?
pen that shit potently?
purposefully like a
prodigy; perfectly like i'm
practicing; practically
proportioned prose;
professional syllables;
predominate style;
primarily powerful
proclamations permanently
pronounced by the
preponderance of phonics;
like im the king of this poetry shit

purgatory prayer

Getting high like cocaine
as i fly higher then your rogaine;
wishing i was snowboarding
not falling outta college.
When i die, lord may i touch the sky
and get smashed by a meteorite.
Bright like fireworks delight,
slope side friday night lights,
cliff drops down crater runs, having fun;
praising Allah for five hundred or so
extra vertical, name it mount heavenly.
My ghost will call it mount purgatory;
invites for eternity; who's joining me?

write power

Suppose a bunch of crayons began to organize in clans;
separated by color and ceased to intermingle.
It'd probably be simple and easy to slip into to
convinced by silly notions like we belong together
and you look like my brother... whatever.
To some degree it's probably natural; evolution's a bastard;
but I got a question; I think we should consider.
Which group of crayons would create the best picture?
hmm... (a pause for the ignorant)
The answer is simple!

one for the ladies

I wish i could write a sexy poem
soft and loving to get her going;
slow and steady to get her trembling;
hot and heavy to break the levee.