The introduction to this page is pretty informative, but I'll just keep writing for the sake of it. Basically, I was sitting in a computer lab one day, and decided to write some free-verse poetry on whatever I saw or heard. That's how the original nine poems came about, and if there are any in a future, that's probably how they'll be too. Oh, and because it's poetry, I made the background lavender.
Songs from a Watermelon Seed
Most joyously I sing of this wonderful seed,
Possibly the blackest of all seeds.
When I think of potential,
I think of a watermelon seed
Growing into a big watermelon.
I also think about hair,
Which can grow like nothing else
And makes really good pillows
If you're a Nazi.
Monkey on Crack
Swinging, vine to vine,
I am on crack,
And I am a monkey.
Sometimes I look at a banana,
And see bugs crawling on it,
And CLAW MY FACE OFF.
But whatever,
I just need my fix.
Government
The legislative,
Judicial,
And Executive
Branches of our government.
Together, they are strong.
Apart they are weak.
We could take 'em
With Microsoft Flight Simulator.
Fire Drill!
Everybody out!
The buildings on fire!
There's no time to salvage your possessions,
Just go!
Boy, we sure tricked you.
Now get back inside and take your fucking test.
Clocks
Sometimes,
When the moon is full,
It looks like a big clock,
Telling the time for the whole world.
Just like Big Ben.
The difference between Big Ben and the man on the moon
Is that "Man On the Moon" was also a bad movie.
If they made a movie called "Big Ben,"
It would probably be a porno.
Legs
Long legs,
Short legs,
Fat legs,
Skinny legs.
All of these things have one thing in common:
You couldn't use them because you're a paraplegic.
Cents
Homonyms are funny.
"Sense" and "cents" sound the same,
Sure, you can "make sense,"
But let's see you "make cents."
You'd have to be a really dumb counterfeiter.
Fame
One of these days,
I'm going to be rich and famous,
Just like Herbert Hoover.
Just like King Henry VIII.
Just like John Candy.
It'd be nice to be not dead, too,
But beggars can't be choosers.
Mountain Dew
Sure, everybody talks about Mountain Dew,
But what's a "Mountain Don't"?
Falling down the stairs when doing
something "extreme," of course.
THERE'S MORE?!? YES! I didn't bother to title them, and they're far less zany and outrageous, but I'm in a little bit of a dry spell in terms of offensiveness right now. But, come on... is that really a bad thing?
To drink the sweet nectar of oblivion,
And waste away among the souls of the formerly living,
Would be a source of constant sorrow.
I often imagine what it would be like
To die
And be reborn time and again
Like the Dalai Lama.
I'm sure it would feel very "Buddhist."
I don't claim to know everything,
About love,
About life,
About eternal beauty,
But I do claim to know how many bones there are in the human body.
I think it's about 206, but I could be wrong.
That's probably something I should look up.
Murder the devil
Said the black man
In the yellow room.
A grin formed on his face
And I checked to see if I still had my wallet.
It was then that I realized
That I was basing my life on stereotypes.
I passed an old woman today
Who looked at me like I was just another young punk.
But, still, I knew that she had just forgotten youth,
And how it felt to be young
And I went on my way.
I passed an old man today
Who wished I would go back to my usual drug consumption,
As if that was all that I did,
As if he did the same thing at his age,
Neither of which are probably true.
I passed over the houses of the Hebrew people in Egypt
Because they had painted the frames of the doors red with blood.
For though I am but a teenager,
I serve part-time as a Biblical angel of death.
AND, FINALLY, MY FIRST "EPIC" POEM. I HOPE TO WRITE MORE OF THESE IF I EVER GET JUST THE RIGHT OPENING SENTENCE. AND, IF YOU'RE WONDERING, I'M JUST TYPING IN CAPS FOR THE SAKE OF DISTINGUISHING IT FROM THE POETRY. IF YOU TOLD ME TO TURN THE CAPS LOCK KEY OFF, YOU'D BE A BIG IGNORANT JERK; I'M JUST HOLDING SHIFT, SO PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT.
A flock of birds moved across the sky,
Down to where the pheasants lay,
Amassed in piles, like the bodies of infants,
At a secret infant burial ground.
The princess looked at me,
Eyes wide as dinner plates,
Hands tense as forks,
Teeth shiny as napkins.
We held hands there, alone
But together at last.
Where once there were dogs
Prancing like reindeer,
There were reindeer,
Barking like trees.
The blind led the blind
Down to the pheasant graveyard,
And both fell into a ditch
Full of bloody pheasant corpses.
We watched this with false interest,
My hand clutching hers tight,
Her hand clutching mine,
Both of our other hands clutching a third person
Who we didn't know.
The dogs had lived here before,
Before the reindeer,
Before the pheasants,
Before you and I were even born.
All that existed were the dogs
And God,
And the dogs outnumbered God.
They combined to form a super dog,
Neglecting their strength in numbers,
And were quickly overpowered.
They had underestimated God,
Just as you and I have underestimated our love
And this third person underestimated my grip.
I'm sorry I'm breaking your hands, third person,
But it's just a metaphor
For how you broke my heart
Even though I don't know you.
In honor of Geoff's new book of poetry, I have two more poems written. They're not Geoff-quality, but...
Push-pins
Push-pins are great for hanging things.
You can hang posters.
You can use them to keep pictures on your wall
Of times you would remember,
And never wish to let go.
You could use them to hang calendars,
Or artwork.
The only thing you can't hang with push-pins
Are people.
But that's why God invented the noose.
Starving Children
Tens of thousands of children starve,
Everyday,
In remote parts of the world,
Where many of us wouldn't visit simply because
We can't take the guilt,
Knowing that we cause this suffering
With our greedy, materialistic society.
Speaking of starving, waiter, we ordered our food half an hour ago and all we've gotten are the appetizers. I'd appreciate a chat with your manager about the way the restaurant is being run.
MORE STILL? For the last time, yes!
History
If world history has taught us anything,
It's that great civilizations will rise,
But always come crashing down again,
Just like an erection.
Love
She was beautiful.
I loved her.
I brought her flowers everyday.
I bought her chocolates on holidays.
I lent her my jacket when she got cold.
But, when I kissed her...
Well, let's just say
That was the last relationship I had
With a freshly-painted fencepost.
The Forest of Whispering Trees
A whisper can be heard
Through the trees
That line the forest
Of whispering trees.
The trees say things sometimes.
This one tree called me fat,
So I developed an eating disorder
And I never got a chance to thank it.
A logger came by and chopped it down a week later
To make room for two smaller trees.
These two smaller trees will grow,
Sooner or later,
Into enemies.
They will hate each other,
For hogging the nutrients,
And hogging the room,
And hogging the bacon.
I may come back time to time
To offer them some bacon to appease them,
But they are irrational.
They will never change.
Their hatred for each other is as deeply rooted
As their roots.
As I exit the forest of whispering trees,
I casually drop my cigarette into a pile of brush.
No enemies will be made if I burn everything down.
Philosophy
If Helen Keller fell in a forest,
Would she be able to hear
Everybody laughing behind her back?
Here's one I wrote a while ago, minus a few minor modifications because I lost the original. I actually submitted to Poetry.com for the hell of it, so if you want to read it on a real website, go there and type my name into the Poem search. I'm a published poet now! Kind of...
The Eagle
An bald eagle swoops across the sky,
Down to the river,
To catch a trout in its powerful talons,
For a little snack.
After eating, it dives once more,
Clutching olive branches in one claw.
And a bundle of arrows in the other.
It spreads its wings in defiance of tyranny,
A celebration of liberty, freedom, and free-market economy.
But as quickly as it comes,
It nosedives to the ground.
"Good shot, son.
All of that patriotic symbolism
Will make her extra juicy."
HERE WE GO AGAIN!
A Walk in the Woods
My love and I walked through the woods today,
The sight of the pines, the smell of honeysuckle,
As we held hands, our spirits nearly touched,
And our hearts began to soar to the heavens.
I reached up to grab mine, before it got away,
But its height had long exceeded my grasp.
I looked to my love, but she was no longer with me,
The loss of a heart was too much for her,
And she had collapsed far earlier.
I ran to her body, strewn upon the path,
And placed my hand upon her tender bosom.
Her heart had stopped beating, with no heart to speak of,
I, myself, was feeling the same way, and lay by her.
My head rested against hers, softly,
And next to her ear, I whispered gently,
"I always loved you. You can't go."
My words were in vain, however,
She'd already been dead for a minute or so.