to Be 24 & Write Bad Poetry

to be young
thoughts racing
pounding
pulsating
in the brain
to be 24 and write poetry
about bad woman
with no hearts
to be 24 and write poetry
about lack of connections
loneliness
heartache
and all that other
deprived shit
that we are living
to be 24
and want
the world
in our palms
only to crush it
and blow the bits and debris
towards god
and say,
"look what i did"
to feel weak
feeble
and without hope
the future is dead
past is nothing but
bridges made of straws
that collapsed
and killed every citizen
these days
will kill you slowly
to weed out the weak
the stranded
the death
to be 24
and hold onto everything
in fear that it might
dissipate
at any second
so you place worth
on everything
every movement
every breath
every word
means something
if not anything
and you take it
manipulate it
place it inside your chest
and hope
nothing but hope
that one day
these dead eyed
will grow strong
these heartless
will grow hearts
and we are nothing
but tin men
with squeaky joints
looking for the oil
to lubricate us
define us
empower us
and love us

Sober

hey
woman
i'm sober now
and happy
smiling
full of glee
ugh
alright
that's enough
this shit is boring
how can you stay this way
and never progress?
remaining stagnant?
it's so fucking
what's the word i'm looking for?
oh yeah...
depressing....
ah
there it is

Score One for the Good Guys

today
i fought
tonight
i defeated you
and
tomorrow
will be another fight
worth writing about.

bad form olde man
bad form

To the Whore Who Stole my Poem and Called it Her Own

misunderstanding can lead to war.
while honesty can pave the way
for nothing.
it takes less courage to smile
and pretend everything is fine
than it does to speak up.
it also takes less courage to point fingers
than to point at ourselves
and admit that we are wrong as well.
if we don't speak up
and settle the dust
we'll dance back and forth like this
hurting each other
to make up for our lack of humanity
and understanding.
i'm no better than you.
but you have faults as well.
everyone is broken
but if we can get past the stage of misery
and find a way to make amends
then it's not just two people in a room
yelling at each other.
it's two people who plant the seeds
for something
bigger than
what we can realize
at this time.
but one cannot wait
along the wall
waiting for that someone
to ask them to dance.
he grows tired of waiting
and leaves
to find
something other
than what was there.
he'll never find it
and he knows it
but she came close
perhaps
the closest
to filling that gap.
i don't think it's that important to her.
but alas,
we have to believe in something.

Just When You Step Off the Coals

just when you're out of the fire
they pull you back in
to let you know
they still have the power
to scorch you inside
just when you're wondering out
of the despair
and hunger
they slap you across with a steak
and a fruit basket
go away
please
leave it alone
please
just stop
trying to fix this
it is broken
i am somewhere else now
and you're not here
so go
go
go
down
down
down
away
from me.
it's better

These Days

today will be a wonderful day
but there will be some downfalls
some pits
that i'm going to have to claw my way
out of
and wrinkles that i'll have to iron out
i'll look for the beauty
acknowledge the ugly
and be kind
to those who are good people.
and today will be a wonderful day
full of lust for woman
that i'll try to grab ahold of
full of defiance
and plagued with desire
but i will soak every moment in
and inhale it up my nose
much like the cocaine that went up there
so many years ago
i will not be cynical
negative
or full of pain
but be open to those small
beautiful
moments
i may be broke
but living a rich life.