Can you hear me now?
Yes,
now that we have stopped talking.
Good.
Yes.
Things have never been so good.
Home » 2017 (Page 3)
Yearly Archives: 2017
Conversations with myself.
I try to hang loose
but always end up
twisted, like a
damp dish towel.
Stained and tattered.
Are we really back here again?
Rinse and repeat.
Haven’t you learned anything yet?
Rinse and repeat.
I bet you like it this way, don’t you?
It’s quieter here…shh!
With voices in your head? You’re too easy.
It’s alright if you sweat, just
don’t let them see you turn.
Are we really back here again?
Metaphorically speaking,
we never actually left.
Places just become new places.
People get replaced by other people.
Lies become fiction.
Truth becomes fantasy.
Like a damp dish towel,
twisting facts
until
they hang loose.
War and Politics.
“You’re a liar.”
“No, you’re a liar.”
“I know you are but what am I?”
“Real mature, Dick!”
“Can’t we just play War already…”
“Wow! You really are a Dick.”
“What?”
“We almost had them fooled, jerk.”
“I know you are but what am I.”
Morning musings.
In the morning
before the sun
when the birds speak
and the city wakes,
after a good night
of drink,
the cure all — water
by my bedside,
I listen
to the sweet symphony
in my guts.
Short-term.
A deep breath
twisting back
crack,
I’ll pay
for that later,
right now
I’ll settle
for relief.
The short-term
people,
must take
what we can get
in the long run.
Optimism from a Bachelor’s of Science.
Rack focus
to what’s important.
Don’t get caught up
with all the blur
in between.
You’re the director,
the cinematographer,
the 1st and 2nd AC.
I’m no scientist
but I can work a camera.
Yesterdays sadness today.
The day
is cold
and rainy,
the walls
smell
of paint,
a hint
of death
lingers,
my pockets
are
running dry,
control
is
a state of mind,
right now
I’m
out of it,
I bought
flowers
to liven up the room,
they
help
some,
today is
a soggy
mess,
as for
tomorrow
we will see.
The point
is,
that we will see tomorrow.
Foreign Language.
Slithering
slurring
sound,
that I can not understand,
reminds me,
how little I know,
how truly little I am.
And that
for lack of better words,
we
are
the
same.
KAZAAM! Nothing good ever came from a cash grab.
For those still trying
to make a statement
no matter how bleak
the future may seem
do not forget Kazaam
in fact, it can be used
in many different ways,
like inspiration
to aspire to be anything but,
or contempt
to actually have something to say,
and just for kicks
to have a good laugh at the system,
nothing good ever came
from a cash grab, except
the idea, the certainty
that money isn’t everything,
that you can do far better
without a twenty-million dollar
Hollywood budget.
The reason our parents told us not to worry about the mail.
So
here’s the thing.
You’ve got two options.
Either succumb to the pressure
or roll with the punches.
Take note, being an adult
means a diet of eating shit,
and just when you’re ahead,
another bill arrives,
a parking ticket
a meter reading
a doctor visit that’s killing you.
Just spare us
the headache
and chew
with your
mouth closed.
Because we all have our own plate to eat.
No one is asking for seconds.
Words Of An Average White Male 