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.

circus of a waste of my fucking time

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!

Circus of a waste of my fucking time

Boom swagger boom

When I move across a room

I take up space and make noise

I work the room like

By forcing myself upon them

Laying them down

They assume the position

And I have a proposition

Considering my condition…

I leave a trail of scales

On my way to you

I can hypnotize you with my eyes

And I can  hiss and meow

Simultaneously

I mark my territory

With piss and bile

The revolving door of men

Who travel thru my den

Like a goddamn freak circus

And I should have learned my lesson…

But I still have a thing

For swallowing the knife

                                                            

Blood Sports

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.


Here is an old poem by feel free press uk
the back of the chap  reads:" Bukowski didn't have a crown, but if he did, if he had, Debbie Kirk is who should be wearing it. Not all these limp dick pretenders to the throne" John Bennet

Blood Sports

years laid down behind me now
like abandoned shipwrecks
huge but still invisible
sparrows are circling me again, I can smell them

All the layers
the coating
the most of me
taken from alley scraps
broken bottles
and alley cats
and all the fucking people.

It doesn't get better with age

it gets familiar
it becomes home

Sometimes I lay on the floor
and pray for the sparrows to come get me
Deliver me, like a stork
to anywhere anywhere anywhere 
else but here.

It will take some blood to attract them

I never had a blood brother
or skipped rocks across a pond
and I may be damaged
But I've got nothing but time'

to perfect my scam for a handicap
in bloodsports.