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Tuesday, March 26, 2013

thank you George Lucas


I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.

Welcome to my Poetry Blog, thanks for stopping by





Thank you George Lucas


Thanks for visiting the site


I think you saw Father Luke references


Sorry they weren’t the word droids you were looking for






But If you have a second Mr. Lucas


I would like to say a few things


About Star Wars






Why couldn’t it have been Star Summer camp?


And


Did you think “Death Star” was the kind of name


That would get you laid at frat parties?


I tease and go on






But truly


Mr. Lucas


I would like to say thank you


My stepbrother 3 years older than me


His whole life changed the day he saw that film


It affected teen men everywhere






So because of your brilliance


I’ve had the privilege of acting out the


Princess Leia scene


And yes,


I’ve even seen grown men


Wield vibrators and pretend they are


Light sabers.






So, I was mostly watching ET


When the whole star wars thing was going on






But I have to acknowledge it


In a sitemap


To many nice places


In my life.


PS


Rights to this poem are cheaper than you think (wink wink)






                                                                                    


Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Love Spell

I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.

Welcome to my Poetry Blog, thanks for stopping by



Love Spell



I want to cast a love spell a heart shaped noose

around those who have raped me


I want to waltz down south bust in on the snake handlers and me,

Medusa.

With all of them fingering and taming my dirty slinky locks.


feel my disease when you sit next to me on the bus

hear the black pieces jingle inside when you break my heart


no psychobabble terms can describe my affliction no pills take it away

sure, they take it somewhere else but in the morning its back.


Sitting on the end of my bed and looking at me.





and I think that when we are at that swimming hole and I ask you to hold me under,
I'm asking you to save me.

And I really think if you loved me,
 you'd do it.

                                                        

Friday, March 15, 2013

3:57 in the morning

I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.


Welcome to my Poetry Blog, thanks for stopping by


3:57 in the morning

I put extra change in the meter every time I park the car
in hopes that I won’t make it back
 and I carry a black umbrella
in hopes of making this poem a fabulous clich├ęd disaster


I think maybe if you’ve never accidentally set the room on fire,
you obviously haven’t been trying very hard to get high

I pissed on a guy for 3 bucks once at the train tracks
but actually
it can seem rather small at 3:57 in the morning

my sagging breasts 
a smokers cough
a drive by
 a god
or even

that scar

from where you lost all your guts…




                                                   

Monday, March 11, 2013

hitchhiking to a savior


I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and  just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.


Welcome to my Poetry Blog, thanks for stopping by

Hitchhiking to a savior





I think people are out there

Everyday

Hitchhiking to Jesus


I guess his pen name is L. Ron Hubbard



666

People have been hit

Crossing the street in front of the
church
 To get to the ATM machine.

                                                           



Friday, March 8, 2013

Narcotics and Knives


I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and  just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.


Welcome to my poetry blog, thanks for stopping by



                                                    Narcotics and Knives


I think if I were to get rid of my television, I would add about 20 years to my life. Which is precisely why I sleep with it on every single day.
I spend my time pecking away on my keyboard, Like the chicken that I am
And pacing the floor, chain‐smoking to keep my hands away from the knife.



Fast foods, narcotics, cigarettes, carbon monoxide, moths are everywhere…and there’s light bulbs over my lipstick…keeping my hands away from the knife.

Even the cutting edge poets, have dulled their senses so much that they just can’t fall down low enough.



But I can’t say these little white pills haven’t been a friend of mine, Especially when I’m already laying down.


The darkness even keeps me from the knife. And today it hurts me to the moon and back A moon which I don’t believe in anymore.


I just can’t die fast enough.



And if it weren’t for the music I can sometimes get from the words, I would’ve traded in my pen for a bottle years ago.


I choose between Narcotics and Knives everyday. Today, it’s great to be high,
Tomorrow, I’m gonna flip a coin.






Monday, March 4, 2013

I bit the Mailman

I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and  just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.


Welcome to my poetry blog, thanks for stopping by


I bit the mailman





There exists an unspoken affair

Between the small time writer

And the post man

One of pure love and pure hatred

One that changes day to day.


They bring rejections

Reviews

Presents

And letters of acceptation


If we evolve

surely we’ll be on all fours Barking as soon as we see them Walk into our territory

My days are fragile and a mailman

Can break them or make them

On Sundays, however

I feel nothing

And it usually rains all day




                                  





Saturday, March 2, 2013

and flying monkeys can't save me


I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and  just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.


Welcome to my poetry blog


                                                         And flying monkeys can’t save me

The tick toking is mocking
beating          
hard deep inside my chest
as it's long arms

touch me



And it may be an urban myth but I often dream about waking up in a tub full of ice


and the sharp ones are angry with me as they spent hours cutting
only to find out the hard way just how heartless I really am


You come along and think you're the yellow brick road to Oz
You've never seen me

hide behind my own curtains


pulling out my teeth one by one and throwing them at paper.


If you see a girl who looks like me wearing ruby red slippers
it’s only a coincidence




I heard the crystal ball break years before I left Kansas