Tag Archives: Art

Le’eonardo De’avinci

Yo, ‘sup homie.

I got da shizzow:

It’s a portrait I did

Of dis half-smilin’ hoe.

It’s all kinda dark

In a beige kinda style

And I figga the critics

Gonna rave for a while.

I got some new model

But wut’s dat bitch’s name?

Moana? Le’isa?

Nothing worthy of fame.

They’ll ask why’d I paint it

And wonder howso.

Too bad I was trippin’

And forgot her brows yo!



Leave a comment

Filed under Poems


We are lazy-eyed romantics

Who, slothful, deign to leer

At sexy ghosts like future, past,

But seldom now or here.

We seek the worldly pleasures

That we, in moments, lack

Knowing we once had them

And hoping they’ll come back.

And like the perfect lover

The present sees us gaze

At a future that will never come

And long-forgotten days

Yet gives us still all that we need,

Supports in every way.

I write so we’ll requite the love

Of the miracle that is Today.

1 Comment

Filed under Poems

And, Somewhere, A Naked Professor Sheds A Tear Over His Sushi And Immediately Regrets It…

If wishes were fishes

We’d eat way more trout,

If thoughts were diplomas

We’d have much more clout,

If logic were clothing

We’d mostly be nude,

But if teardrops were onions

We’d really be screwed.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

The Silent Poet: This Is Why We Hibernate…

Amidst the misty morning,

Atop the naïve snow,

The thin white wind blew, chilly,

‘Neath sun’s unearthly glow.

The living glass of needles

Lay beneath the stalwart fir

And I, the bear, thought all this

But, alas, could only say “grr.”

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

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.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Rodin’s “The Age Of Bronze” Talks About His Career Change

I am a person made of bronze,

Carved from orangish metal.

My body looks so human

But I’m closer to a kettle.

I’ll never move, I’ll never speak,

I’ll never love or feel.

I’ll never be a human,

But I’m absolutely real.

I’ll never learn of math or art.
I’ll never know a fact.

I’ll have no skills in anything,

So I guess I’ll have to act.

My body’s perfect, ageless, strong

Although I can’t be dumber

And thus I’ve come to Hollywood,

Renamed “The Up-And-Comer.”

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

And You Can Help By Buying My Books! (For Art’s Sake)

If I make a million dollars

Writing poetry some day

I’ll buy a bunch of bushes

And cut them in a way

That they’re shaped like women

Who don’t like 50 Shades of Grey

Because we all need a bit more

Of those in our lives, eh?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems