Friday, April 18, 2014

Word Puzzle

Packed like a can of sardines that swam simply through the sanctified and saturated salt water sea
A tin of precocious predicaments that are padded permanently with peach fuzz and pencil lead
For as fifty freaking Fridays flip by in fast and rapid succession the frying fryers fixated on forcing forks into the toaster
Denting the delightful dogs who dragged their tails drastically down beneath the dented ice
Hoping to hospitalize the can of hopeful horrid fish who hopped skipped and jumped like hellions home for Halloween
Reciting idioms to the idiots who independently instigate irritating sight gags so that ink blots go inking for an inkling of icebergs
Before the fable baffles buffaloes who break down in bee hives just because the bats bother bears who bear beards that are never bathed
Asking the antelope to ask anteaters if anti-lions act like assholes for absolving abominable appetites that feast on April apples from ancient Antioch
Lying lividly against licorice colored lollipops, licking the lycanthropes who lick lightly town the length of a leopard coat
Hot on the heels of can of sardines that hastily heeds the hated and heated warning of a heep of hyenas who hoop and holler like hot blooded hell raisers
EXplaing the eXcellent eXecution eXperienced by the ineXperienced eXaminer who eXamines eXistential eXistences under an eXciting eXcavation
Good god grants good gods to grieving goats who gather grapes for griping granite gravel 
Mourning the melting mold that makes them miniature garbage grabbers that garner no guiding glee from goofy gags

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Sit Down and Shut Up

But if the pain ends, what will they complain about
If bitterness is absolved as well as their sins, what will they fret upon
When all is said and done they needed the sandess as much as they needed the love
For without one to the other who would release the breath
And so it goes that the fools call off, shouting obscenity after obscenity
Because the fucking assholes chose not to give a shit about their little girl, and her untied shoes
Because those bastards sat around pissing on their parade, so damn them for their carelessness
Who in good faith, dear sirs
Who tore her laces in two
It was the fools you are, and the fools you are who let it get this way
And as shadows form to fall you will always blame the light
Never caring to remove the obstacles so that there is only light
You needed something to talk about
Or else you'd have no need for your tongue
Not even for tasting, you just needed it to spew out your bile
Nine out ten times we are doing this to ourselves
Claiming we can not control the eruption as it boils to the surface
When we could have placed a cap on it,
Dissolved it under mountains of misty water
And pinches of morning dew
But we poured out the water and hid it in our shadows
And then claimed we did not know where it'd gone
It was always there, right there attached to our hips
Cutting in like barbed fish hooks through the fatty tissue of our skins
A constanty agony that reminded us that we could have stunted this fire
Instead of feeing it and panicking when it drove the animals away
Made our friends rush off for fear of burning fiercely
So without me who would you have to compare your triumphs
And all of those losses,
without me who could you look down upon
We are cockroaches yet some want to put on hats and shoes
and claim they are men
but only insects are as simple,
Only the simplest beings would think this would make them more
That they can change the world by shouting out slogans
And liking lost causes,
While they relax on their sofas getting high off anything they could find
Surrounding themselves with other world changers
Who won't ever get up to change the garbage
Let alone make a dent in the troubles and woes of the masses
Kiss my ass with your false sainthood,
I'd rather you sit solemnly than pretend to play peace keeper
You give as many shits as they do,
They are just more honest than what you think are two goody-two shoes
Don't forget to laugh
When the rest of the world still is crying.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Popularity Thanks to Tragedy

There's a smile on her face
As she weeps into her bowl
The cereal milk converges with tears
And the condo's are a fire
Just across the courtyard
But no one is screaming
And while she inserts spoon into mouth
Feasting on her self
The cataclysmic events unfold
As the fireman come just to watch
And the building slowly comes down
To a pile of smoldering ash
Yet she continues to smile
Keeps on eating herself
And then despite her best efforts the tears subside
Then a sinking feeling enters the pit of her stomach
As the acid rain eats away at the rubble
And she spits it all up
Tears and cheerios
Back into her bowl and she wanders on over
Staring out the window still
Her hand resting on the window sill
As the firemen smoke cigarettes
Laughing at each others jokes
The rage inside is driving her insane
Since no one is placing blame
There has to be something more to this
She knows it
But back then just moments ago
She was content to sit in silence
In tears and milk
Letting it burn down with indifference too
It is plain to see the bodies down below
No one is caring
And she never did
Until she ran out of nothing to do
Just like all of you.

Sitting and Looting

Let the record state that he did not commit this crime
He was laying in his home on a hard wood floor
Watching the latest news on the history channel
Channel surfing through the exact spots he'd been before
Pausing only briefly then coming back for more
Circles and circles that go around and around
To no ones surprise he is utterly forgettable
Lacking all his motor skills as he slips away into oblivion
No matter the cost of pay per view
He will dream of everything under the sun
While the waning moonlight passes once again
Determined to float on his cloud till its over
But the television static keeps his mind shocked
Keeps his blankets too warm to cover with
As the cold essences of night and winter bleed into his skin
He will shiver while sports casters review the week
Lying about their favored influences
Commiting sins as they rattle off insults to the institutions that allowed them to exist
and he will shake in place distracted by the sound of the passing track stars
Training in the summer while they hustle from block to block
Keeping in shape in little short shorts
But he has no time to watch the view
He's busy turning it from channel one too two
Little by little the termite mounds build
Molding into the houses that are digested still
His home and he's been getting older
But no more bolder as they begin to eat his toe nails
For there is nothing left but he
He and his television
He and his cable equipment
Everything is on
But none of it means shit
And when the hopeless romantics pass him by
Trying to take pity on him
He will shoo them off
Haven't not bathed for days
His eyes are glued to a commercial
Featuring some famous star
Just lying through their teeth.