Monthly Archives: October 2017

Not Your Average Love

She was a starving art history student,

Forced by fate towards whatever was prudent,

Yet she had a temptation she could not evade…

A man, in a sense, who with her heart played.

He was the Egyptian God of the dead,

With unlimited power and an animal’s head,

Yet despite devestation he doled out at will

His heart had an urge that he just couldn’t kill.

Her focus was on just money and Monet.

All of existence was under his sway.

She spent her days in the study of cubists.

He spent his evenings just being Anubis.

Somehow the two met at a holiday party.

She thought him a bad boy. He thought her a smarty.

The exchanged numbers and met up for brunch.

She loved his mystique. He loved how her bones crunch.

Yet, deep as their love was, they each said good bye

For they’d not live together unless she would die.

So ends the tale of this starcrossed romance

Of a girl and a God, both with un-gotten-into-pants.

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I Need To Change My Pre-Writing Playlist!

I wrote a poem about breaking up

Though I’m happily single.

I wrote a poem about parties

Though I seldom even mingle.

I wrote one about prison

Though I’m offended by “darn.”

I write one about dead soldiers

Though I’m home, both safe and warm.

Each one I halfway finished

Then deleted with a click

Because my life is so darn easy

I’d come off looking like a dick.

Sorry for the language.

I guess I got unhinged.

No more poetry for me

After a punk-rock Youtube binge!

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Honest Kids

I said “kinda farty,”

And mommy got mad.

That’s what her dinner tasted like.

Now I live alone with Dad.

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Dr. Seuss Beware!

There was a skunk named Dink

Who didn’t stink,

Which, at least for Dink, stank.

He played at skunk school

But smelled really cool

And thus his social standing sank.

They flunked the poor skunk

And he packed up his trunk.

He greatly disliked the school’s thinking,

But he too understood

Skunks can’t be what they should

If said skunks stunk like Dink did at stinking.

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Feed Me!

Hello dear readers!

I’m here to announce

A new opportunity

On which you may pounce:

My latest collection

Of poetical stuff

Is now featured on Amazon

As purchasable fluff.

The link is below

If you care to explore.

If you buy it I may

Be able to go to the store

And put food on the table

(Or just eat food in bed).

You know what to do.

Thanks to all! Thus, I’m fled.

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RPGs Were His Life…Literally 

As the lightning cracked in the purple sky

And the cameras panned over my birth

My parents knew I was the guy

Who’d be destined to save the Earth.

So I was raised in the classic way
Of being a normal happy kid

Until, inevitably, bandits razed my town

Which, as expected, they inevitably did.

And so from the ashes a guardian rose

And took me to a school of hard knocks

Where I learned to be destiny’s hero

By killing rats with sticks and rocks.

And after cutscenes which showed me grow
I left the school to see the land.

My life’s tutorial now finished

My destiny could proceed as planned.

I started out slaying vermin,

Albeit on a grander scale.

I found gold left unclaimed on the ground

And used it to buy weapons and mail.

I learned to cast spells and fire a bow,

Though I never really did

Because the way to do so was complicated

And my life was controlled by a kid.

Eventually I was betrayed

And someone who I thought had died

Turned out to be the major villain

Who led the guys on the other side.

What should have been climactic

Turned quickly to a rout

Because somewhere I read a walkthrough

And I did what it talked about.

And so the banners fly again

And peasants chant my name.

I’m made the king of everything

But otherwise life’s the same.

My normal life took fifteen hours

Before I was the love of every bard,

But now my achievements dissapear

As fate clicks “new game, difficulty: hard.”

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Oh, Also I’m Sick

Sitting on a bus

Waiting to go home.

I don’t feel creative at all.

The driver is gone.

If this moment were art

It’d be the plain red stripe on a hotel wall.

Dogs are pretty.

Pretties are not always dogs.

If you thought you’d be happy

With this poem’s conclusion

Reread the first two lines.

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Rape Culture?

I was the star of my football team

Through high school and beyond.

I was six-foot four, 400 pounds…

When I walked I shook the floor.

When I got to college

I tried out for the offensive line

But apparently “make me a sandwich”

Had been used, and I was declined.

I dieted, I exercised,

I worked both day and night.

I dropped to a mere 250 pounds

And practiced catching right.

I came back my sophomore year

And became the team’s tight end.

I got a jersey and a girlfriend.

I thought my life was on the mend.

But, through football player logic,

I thought some heads needed a dent.

The police disagreed with me

So off to jail I went.

Now four years later I return,

No longer a brawler or deceiver.

You may go to jail a tight end

But you return a wide receiver.

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Night Shift (Every Walmart Ever)

Sleepwalking,

Night stalking…

Insomnia is killing me.

Dead of night,

I feel no fright.

Just a few more hours ’til I’m free.

With empty hearts

And bulging carts

They leave my shelves so very bare.

Their hands are deep

In all that’s cheap.

At these poor beasts I stare.

All these hours

Living in a haze

Just a few more days

On the night shift.

I waste my life

Repeating strife,

Putting boxes back on the shelves.

My peers and I

Just want to cry,

Go home and be all by ourselves.

I ain’t got paid,

But I’ve quit and stayed.

Oh! How that paycheck calls…

I say I’ll walk,

But it’s all talk.

I haven’t got the balls.

All these hours

Hoping its a phase.

Counting down the days

On the night shift.

Then in an instant

I hear the TV:

“Todays winning numbers are

“7, 6, 5, 4, 3.”

Thirty-eight million dollars

Are mine! All mine! Then…

My boss yells “you’re fired

“If you doze off again.”

All these hours

And finally an excuse…

No need for such abuse…

Time to take another snooze…

On the night shift.

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Apparently Pearls And Swine Are Equal

A feminist told me

“All men are pigs!”

And I almost took some offense.

Then another told me

“Men and women are equal.”

Now the first woman’s making more sense.

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