Tuesday, August 11, 2015

There's no time to waste wasting love.

A married B.
C and D just bought a house.
E left F for G.
H just got his doctorate and
I don’t care.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Uncried tears are one of nature’s greatest sacrileges.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

I Am Human Too

My heart pumps blood.

I know yours does too.

Can you feel what is means to be alive?

I have erred, sometimes greatly.

It is our unifying factor as humanity,
this idea that we all makes mistakes.

Being humans makes it so.

We are simply human, and it’s all we can be.

I just wish to treat others humanely
and to be treated so myself.

Lay your head on my heart, it’s pumping blood.

We are both alive, this is true, real,
the only thing that matters.

Lay your head on my heart
and feel the life beating from within
and know that I am human

(Feb 2014)

Sleeping through sunrises, working through sunsets.

People I've Known (In My Mind)

Betty Sue
Betty Sue was a weird one.  She had an online dating profile where she acted as if she was a vampire.  In the profile section where one is to describe what they are looking for in another person, she simply wrote, “Necks.”  On her days off, which were all of them (she never worked), she sat around pretending to be a cat.  No one was sure why, even her.  This did lead to a lot of free bowls of milk left by helpful neighbors.  As fate would have it, she was lactose intolerant and never got to enjoy the treat left for her.  Many thought her to be mentally ill, and she was.  Not only that, she was also physically ill, all of the time.  She claimed to have had the same cold since 1946, which she also claimed was given to her when a homely looking child sneezed into her face inside a McDonalds restaurant.  She once fell asleep next to a homeless man and during her sleep attempted to cuddle him.  Thinking she was attempting to steal his change, he punched her in the vagina.  This unfortunately led to her timely death (she had wanted to die since she was 8, so whenever was good for her).

Tod.  Oh, what a guy.  He was a skidoo enthusiast.  He loved the way his package looked in those tight water pants.  He was known to say, “Whatever floats your skidoo.”  What a dork.  He was a Wall Street executive who always gelled his hair back and to the left.  He said it was inspired by the JFK assassination.  He was rich as all fuck, but not fuck as all rich, whatever the that means.  He once finger fucked a donkey just for the hell of it.  A devoted father of none, and a lifetime, devoted alcoholic, he claims to have once drank an entire bottle of beer using only his rectum.  No one is sure what he meant by this.  In his younger days, he joined a sorority, not knowing that men are supposed to be in fraternities.  It worked out for him, as he got much more pussy surrounded by drunk sorority chicks all the time.  He stayed with the sorority until the day he died.  He was hit by a car and thrown 30 feet, ironically enough, forward and to the right.

Susie Q
Susie Q was an odd one.  She was a germophobe saxophonist.  This was troublesome for her at times, as she never wanted to put her lips on the dirty saxophone tip.  So, she just held the saxophone a lot.  She was pretty good at that part of saxophoning.  She was also good as cell phoning.  And, homophobing.  She would call up gay people on her cell phone and call them homophobic slurs.  What a little cunt.  She died of pneumonia when she ate a freeze pop during the middle of the winter while attempting to climb Mount Everest.

Monday, July 20, 2015

Most People Don’t Want Love, They Just Think They Do

Most people don’t want love, they just think they do.

Once they have it, they squander it, waste it, throw it away.

I think they have yet to truly love themselves.

Most people don’t want love, they just think they do
because once they get it
they run from it

Most people don’t want love, truly.

They can’t handle such a thing,
it is too strong of an emotion
that can quickly turn the other way
if taken away.

Most people don’t want love, they just think they do.


Saturday, July 18, 2015

Oncoming Freedom

Oncoming freedom
is like walking with a cage around you

Oncoming freedom
is like waiting for a jail cell to open
when you have been sentenced to life

Oncoming freedom
is a lie
the only reality
is freedom now

(Jan 3 2015)

Some Shit

It’s a miracle I’ve remained this surprisingly normal.

I roll my eyes at many of you who aren’t trying nearly hard enough.

Explosive poops.

When all else fails, make fun of Asians.


Clint Eastwood.  On Westoil.  (Explanation:  Bill Clinton.  Opposite of wood heating is oil heating).  Fuck you, it was something.

Things you don’t hear often:  A 29 year old man exclaiming:  “HEY MOM!  I GOT MY PERIOD!”

Did you touch my cats bunghole?

Who is the cool ass person in the English language who went and made sure that Granny’s and panties rhymed?  That dude deserves credit.

When a chicken goes to heaven, it gets its chicken wings.  It can choose hot or mild, and only hope it isn’t eating one of its relatives.

Advice to live by:  Don’t ever shower with your grandmother.

Can you knock me off this writer’s block?  I don’t think so.  I’m balanced out by this chip on my shoulder.

Like a woodstove with a burning fire inside had sex with a hot female burlesque artist writer.  Then, that kid grew up and mated with a spoon or fork.  That’s what I’m like.

Writing is a great outlet.  Now go stick a fork in it and create something magical.

The jester jokes, but speaks more truth than the politician.  The politician, serious as all can be, creates more absurdity and laughs for anyone truly listening.

Don’t waste time attempting to jam your square peg life into the round hole society it doesn’t fit into.

Some things in life are private.  Your income, email passwords, and parts.

Some of us they don’t have, some of us they can’t fool.  No matter how hard they try, the mind of a true rebel will not buy into the bullshit.  Stay rebellious.

There’s a large difference between misunderstood and insane.  Some people don’t understand this.  They might be insane.

There are the ballers that are there once in a while.  There are the ballers that are there most weeks.  There are the ballers that are there every week.  Then, there are the ballers that are there every week and have been there every week for years.

They prey on the naïve and hopeful and those that don’t know any better…those innocent to the idea, those have yet to be jaded.  The young of mind, naïve.  The ones you have no bad intentions, those who are happy to be doing it, the ones wanting to live their dream.  They take advantage of that type of thing.  Be careful out there in the workforce.  Be careful out there in the world.

Recycled humanity.  Forever replaced.  An unending cycle.  But the same fears, flaws, emotions, feelings.  Has it changed?  Have we?  Love, hate, sex.  Continues on…forever.  Recycled humanity, molds the same, feelings similar, not that much different.  Recycled, replaced, reused.

My blood is young and won’t be replaced.

Two men meet up.  They both have strong colognes on.  There they are.  Two men with competing colognes.  Who will win?  Definitely not us people sitting here having to smell this.

It’s time they just change the name to Fakebook.

I’ll hit you in the head with a fuckin piece of wood.  Don’t worry, it will be fully seasoned.  I know what I am doing.  I wouldn’t dare hit you with some newly downed green piece.  You must season the wood at least six months before hitting someone in the head with it.  You will be able to tell the wood is ready to hit someone in the head with once you can notice cracks on the outside, and once the color becomes darker and more grey like.  You will also be able to tell when it is time to hit someone in the head with the wood once the bark starts somewhat flaking off.  Wood that still has a strong smell is too green to be hitting someone in the head with, wait until the wood has lost it’s strong scent before banging skulls with it.  If you want to get really technical, you can buy a wood moisture reader and it will tell you the exact moisture content.  You don’t want to hit someone in the head with wood that is any more than 20% water content.  That wood is not ready to hit someone in the head with yet.  It is best to leave the wood outside for at least six months, better if it is more like a year, before hitting someone in the head with it.  You will also know that the wood is ready to hit someone in the head with when if you knock two pieces together, they make a loud, higher pitched crack sound.  If you hit two pieces together and it sounds more like a thud, the pieces are not ready to hit someone in the head with yet.  Cut the wood to the proper length perfect for handling so you can pick it up and hit someone in the head with it.  Properly stack and cover the wood outside and let the wind and sun get to it.  Then, in the right time, you will be able to use this wood to hit someone in the head with.  Either that, or you can be really boring and just burn this wood in your woodstove.  I’m not sure why you would do that, though,  You don’t want to be wasting perfectly good, seasoned wood by burning it in a woodstove when you can be knocking bitches in the noggin’ with it.

Working in a Chinese restaurant, while walking in to the walk-in, Christopher Walken walked in to Wok Ein.

Llani is literally illiterate, llike a llama.  Llike that?  I sensed a lull in your llaughter.  Llesbian.  That last one doesn’t even go with it, but I lleft it.

Why is fire any more special than shit?  Because of what it can give us?  Why is fire more amazing than poop?  I know all of what fire can do for us, but when you really get down to it, these things are only as special as we think they are.  Fire and that lily pad are equal in a cosmic sense, just as humans are equal with a piece of a rabbit’s fingernail.  It is only what we believe that makes them special.  I guess what I’m getting at is that those amazing stars above us that we will never truly figure out aren’t any more special, unique, awe inspiring, or amazing than the idea of air pushing out of your uncle’s asshole so that everyone at the dinner table has to smell shit.  This guy, and that lady, in a larger sense, are equal, and they are equally as awe inspiring as that moose you saw one time in the woods in it’s natural habitat.  These things are all amazing.  The greats works of art, that poem you read once that changed how you thought of things is in a way, no more special than a 12 year old writing dick joke graffiti at the playground.  Drink up, this is life, enjoy all this random shit for what it is.  Random shit.  Nothing we understand or ever will.  We sometimes think we do.

Let me save you some time:  She aint mysterious.  There aint nothing magical to figure out.  She’s just fucked up.

Toys.R.Us.  I want to come out with a more grammatically correct toy store called We Are Toys.

Some 20 something girl sings lines she didn’t write, think, or feel into a microphone out in California and makes millions.

Chinese is more ching chong ching, while Japanese is more wing wong wing.

I like those who get over in spite of the system instead of because of it.

Raw, real, unfiltered, naked, alive, free, ravage, animal, sweat, love, spit, taste, kissing, intense, heat, passion, fucking, feel, insanity, orgasm, explosion, intensity, nothing like it

My beard now reaches my nipple.  I win.

Shut up Bob Dylan, I’m trying to listen to Tracy Chapman.
Shut up Obama, I’m trying to hear George Carlin.
Shut up people, I’m trying to hear life.

There are about 7 people worth listening to in life.

You always hear about world hunger, but you never hear about world thirst.

You can get violently close to someone.

A Pepsi logo painted into a bomb hole in Afghanistan.

Dad as we are driving down North Houghton Street and some lady walks across the street, “Marge is still alive, wow!”

Actual tagline to a movie, “One machines journey to become his own man.”

What worries you more…midgets or gingers?

I look like Johnny Depp.  Just not as ugly.

Swim With The Dead Fish
Fall in line, mother fucker.  Do as your told.  Never expect to be treated as you should, and damn you for thinking that perhaps people would treat you as well, if not better, than you treat them. Don’t work hard at work, it is never appreciated, and it is definitely never rewarded, less given a thank you for.  Don’t go above and beyond.  Be mediocre.  Fit right in.  Swim with the dead fish.  Let the flow take you.  Don’t fight it.  The undertow of mediocrity knows how to pull you in.  One man being different, one man being brilliant, one man being special, out of the norm -  himself, will never change the course of the stream.  The heavy tide is too much.  The pull of the masses makes it so.  Fall in line.  Do as you are told.  Swim.  Swim with those dead fish.  Let the waters of banality take you.  Succumb to how they are, how they have made it, never reach for anything more.  Just go with it.  You will not win this fight.  Tread on, in their direction.  Never take your own path, never go your own way.  They don’t like that.  Follow the way it has been already set.  Do it.  Go with what they know, not what you know.  Don’t question.  Fall in line, mother fucker.

I wish only to change the world.

Thanks for reading.


Tuesday, July 14, 2015


The say at worst that women are inferior to men
and at best that we are equal
I was robbed of motherhood
and instead I have a dick

(May 12 2015)

Two Things For Ya

Hitler never had to go to high school reunions.  People seemed to know what he was up to.

If you build it they will come.  That was about dildos.

In a world with no kings, banana is king.  Either that, or hopscotch.


I always feel
there’s not enough time
for all the things you want to do

I find myself thinking time is running out
and I’m not even 30.

All I want is more time to spend with those I love
doing things I love to do


Wood is fire yet to be realized,
life is beauty hidden much the same.

Too Late

I don’t believe in too late
I can’t
because it might be


Freedom.  Dance.  Opportunity.  Fluidity.  A chance.  Roam.  Time.  Freedom.  Change.  Dance.  Freedom.  Openness.  New.  Different.  A fresh start.  Freedom.  Release.  New Beginning.  Rejoice!

Time.  New.  Yes.  Love.  Time.  Freedom.  New.  A chance.  Go with it.  Flow.  Life.  New.  Time.  Freedom.  Yes!
The Torch

Fire creates fire.

Passion does the same.

Creativity and inspiration are a spark
that can light a wildfire of emotion.

Nothing can drown it out.


No amount of hatred.
No amount of opposition.


Love is an eternal fire that burns
as long as you feed it.


Fire (and therefore wood), warmth.
Water (and therefore nature), life.  
Air (and therefore breathe), soul.
Sun (and therefore light), vision.
Earth (and therefore resources), survival.
Life (and therefore time), joy.

Like the bellows for a dying fire,
art breathes life into a withering soul.


behind the dollars
hides a shadow of god
something many are willing to goosestep towards

hidden in the bills
hides a god
we have created
greater than all creation
but not truly - only in our minds

that green face hides a face a god
hidden deep within the idea of it

we have made it so

we have created this religion
this faith
this belief

but I’m not fully buying it

(2 26 2015)


money is a god
we have created
and sacrificed our lives to

our existence starving
there on the cross we have created

our lives given over
to this deity
we have made more important
than life itself


You only get one life to live.
Don’t waste it doing what doesn’t make you happy.

Any moment lost
is a sacrilege to the gift you have been given.

Every day wasted
a spit in the face
to the very idea of what it means to be alive.

(Feb 25 2015)

I keep hope in my back pocket
and won’t let it be broken

I am strong.

Stronger than even I realize.

This single strand holding me together
is strong like the thread of a spider web
and there is nothing
and no one
anywhere at anytime
that can break it

(2 12 15)
The Laughter Of A Madman

They might think this man is mad
but I laugh at the idea
getting joy from the fact
that I love this
perhaps more than they ever could

(2 12 15)

The moon doesn’t ask for anything
nor does the sun
they are just as they are
as we are
and I still don’t understand
almost any of it

Feb 5 2015

To The Self-Assured

What you think you understand
could simply be
what you have yet to discover
you don’t

Feb 5 2015


There is light at the end of the tunnel, I see it here, now.

There is light here now, not only at the end, but through the sides.

I can see light
in the darkest of places

I can find something illuminating
within the daunting

There is light here now, I see it, this train is coming, open
like spring
like the legs of a woman opening to you once again

There will be something new

There will be something different

Life will change,

(Feb 11 2015)

A Dream

I knew I was a child, now a man, of privilege.  The grass was always green here and grew very well.  In the distance, behind some wall I know I could easily be at, I could see something different.  I took the binoculars.  There was a man far skinnier than any man should be, he sat naked with crumbling stone buildings around him.  He had no shelter from the weather, from the rain.  He looked beat down and worn out.

The rich here had bikes, but when I saw them, there was always more than one person on one.  That is the type of poor you were dealing with.  The poorness you could feel and nearly taste just by the look on the eyes of the child standing in the street, by the looks of the old man’s frail and naked body.

People picked food from withering gardens, stone buildings above them crumbling down.  There were no roofs.  It was sand and wind and little protection from it.  It was a sad, sad scene.  The people were either dead, nearly dying, or painfully struggling.  Life shouldn’t have to be this way, but it is.  The people continued on, somehow.  And, the children played in the streets, unaware of it all.  That is the hope there.  The children smiled and laughed as they played, even amongst this scene.  It is as if the children are our most brave hope, because they know so little.  Or perhaps, they are such genius that they know it all.
On the other side of philosophy is comedy.
On the other side of art is the tangible.

The shackles we put onto ourselves, handcuffing our lives to our limited selves.
We are jailed, imprisoned by our imperfections, by our impurities.
We must goose step, following a certain way because of our flaws.
We sabotage our own lives by the way we live them, not even seeing it.

We forget how to dance.  Feet shackled we stumble, unable to be free to let loose.

The dance, the song isn’t the same.

The beauty of it is lost somewhere, because of the limitations we put on ourselves.
Glimmering Hope

My light burns bright within, this fire is an ember that will spark a wildfire

I know it is in there.

One day I hope to let myself be that.

One day I hope you can see it, truly, all of it

(Jan 11, 2015)
Your Soul

Art cannot be taken away from the one who creates it.

You cannot chip away at a soul.  It remains somehow, deep within, unaffected, just perhaps covered with life, covered with pain and bad things and negativity.

The soul remains deep within, unaffected.

You just have to be willing to dig through the muck
to find it

(Jan 11 2015)
What Can’t Be Taken From You

They can never take away style
they can never take away dance
or emotion or art

They can’t.  It is not theirs to take.

It is of something greater.
It is of something that is not theirs.
It is unique to you.

It is your own song to dance
your own life to live
and no one
can take that from you
but yourself

(Jan 11 2015)

There isn’t much worse to me than a waste of time
and it is what many people to me are disguised as
and I don’t understand how to enjoy what is
I can only see the future and what won’t be
and I can’t let time be killed
I have learned to murder it instead


Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Gymnasium Salad

It is when you have “nothing to do” that you can do anything.

Love is such a beautiful thing.  It is so ugly to waste it.

Turning our back on tomorrow by going against today.

Let’s go out in public amongst people you know.  I want to come home and hear how sexy you think I am.

A list of things that feel equal to or better than sex (in a different way):

  • making a great pass in basketball
  • dancing
  • someone who has earned it finally getting their chance to shine
  • being outside in the open air surrounded by nature with no distractions
  • writing (at certain times when it’s really good)
  • murdering my cats - got ya
  • laughing

If I was a seeing eye dog, I’d fuck with people so much.  Bring them to the wrong store.  What are they gonna do, hit me?  I’d just walk them into oncoming traffic.

It’s gotta be magical.  I will accept nothing less than total magic.

Do you believe in magic?  Because I see forever in your eyes.

I want to live my life with the same freedom an carefree attitude that Harry & Lloyd feel once they find out there is money in the briefcase.

Hope is a stepping stone hidden under the river known as life.  When things come hard, it isn’t easy to see, you might no t be able to see it at all, but it is there.  Take a step.

To Realize Dreams

My hope is infinite.

My time is not.

I went to a restaurant and wanted a lemon.  They didn’t have one.  Sometimes life doesn’t give you lemons.

Someone fucking surprise me!

Never make a wish in a war zone.

I think it’s odd that people order a garden salad, because what other type of salad would it be?  A gymnasium salad?

Pig Sty Mind

One can know too much.  How do you know?  You’ll know.  When you know that, it’s too much.

I delivered to this guy with a really nice house, beautiful views, he tips well, and he’s even very friendly.  This house on a hill overlooking the Berkshire mountains, including Mount Greylock and a view into Vermont.  As he gave me the tip, I noticed he was wearing a wig.  I thought, “Look at that guy’s beautiful house.  Yeah, but he feels it necessary to wear a wig.”

Life is a total mystery and we are conscious of it and part of it. Can we even begin to fathom the mystery of death?

My shit numbers don’t add up.  This is not good.  My daily shit calendar has me at 359 shits for the year, my texting shit count has me as 355.  That’s a four shit discrepancy.  (Yes, I said daily shit calendar).

I have a shit calendar.  How cool am I?

The peace and quiet of being poor.

I don’t want your gift.  I’d rather your time.

The Rock isn’t a wrestler. He just acts like one.

You’re asking the wrong guy, man.  I wear dresses for fun.

To ignore the mighty power of nature, what a blatant stupidity.

Why do they make bug spray, but not human spray?  I would probably use it way more.

Success = (hope x realism) + effort.

In a way, I think heaven might smirk down at hell, knowing that much more.

As you get older, all of a sudden, everyone gardens.

Live to feel alive, a passion deep inside that can’t be denied.

Cry me a river, I like swimming, but don’t drown in it.

Illiterate:  doesn’t know about littering.

The idea of tic tac toe crossed my mind, but I crossed that idea out.  Instead, I just wrote an “X” and thought about sideways crucifixion.

In the past 10 years, I haven’t changed.  I’m talking about my clothes.

I’ve got a date with destiny.  I met her at the strip club.

Vagabondage:  a guy that moves from place to place who is into S&M.

Life is a process, not an end result.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  Middle Ages Untransformed Cowboy Bunnies.

You don’t have what you want?  Change some of what you want.  That’s an option.  Or, go get what you want.  That’s another.

Before the internet, blackpeoplemeet.com was just the ghetto.

Dressing as a whore depending on season

Spring: Early spring - be careful (too eager to wear too little) later spring - okay, it’s starting to warm up

Summer: could just be because it’s hot out, too hard to differentiate the true whores from women just trying to stay comfortable in the heat

Fall:  dedicated to their whoreness (Halloween excluded), you have to respect their dedication to being a whore

Winter: way too desperate, could be literally crazy - stay away!

Thanks for reading.