C’est la fou vie!!!

If I had some form of guidance I’d probably have a book published right now, but that’s neither here no there.

Enjoy!

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#???- C’est la fou vie (its crazy life)

It’s terribly

important

that you

don’t und-

erstand ever-

ything.

Ya gotta

walk out

to the edge

and look

over it

and see

how deep

it goes

and wond-

er if that

fall would

kill you…

You know,

you know,

you gotta

get

real funk-

y, weird

maybe-crazy-

baby,

that’s the

kinda shit

you need

happen-

ing

round you.

Charlie and

the bum boys

are sketchy

characters,

but they talk

better then

Suzy from work,

you know?

You pickin

this stuff up?

What I’m sayin

is,

if you accident-

ally freak it,

and wake up

tomorrow,

dirty-poor-

ugly-hungover,

it’s all right,

what I’m saying

is, none of its

wrong,

ya know,

C’est la

fou vie.

It’s crazy,

life.

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Not doctor recommend.

I’m not sure if this poem is about the price of organs or if it’s a love poem.

#???-Dirty heart surgery

I read somewhere today

that a human heart costs

four hundred and forty two

thousand dollars.

Now, I’m no doctor

and I’m certainly not

an organ dealer,

but I think I could fix your heart for much cheaper.

Now, now, before you get your hopes all high,

let me just say that my method for fixing hearts doesn’t work for everyone,

and it may take as long as a year before the process begins to work,

but my method is

much, much cheaper.

See now,

this is how the method works-

You give me a call,

I’ll go get us a bottle of wine.

We go down by the river,

and we drink that wine,

and we chat and we laugh and we see the river and the stars, and maybe we even skrew.

We do this now and again,

and mix in a regiment of me making you dinner,

and the two of us seeing movies and live music,

maybe throw in some road trips,

and of course,

hugs, kisses, late nights, and cuddling

are absolutely vital to my process.

So, anywho,

we do this for some months,

and somewhere along the way,

I’ll just give you my heart.

Now, my heart can’t replace your heart,

and it’s not the greatest heart,

but it’ll beat just for you.

I must warn that this may not be a permanent fix,

and could eventually cause more damage,

but in fairness,

the risk is just as great for me.

So, before you hand out

four hundred and forty two thousand

to some idiot doctor,

give me a call,

let’s see what I can do for you.

Besides,

I really like the idea

of my heart beating for you,

doesn’t that sound

kinda nice?

Your smile, your heart, and goodnight

Here’s some shit I wrote.

Enjoy!!!

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#???-goodnight :/

I don’t need to tell you

why I love you,

just know that I do,

and I can be a dick

but I’m better

then he is,

and your better

then me is

but I just gotta know

what is it I gotta do

to make you loose sleep

over me too.

I just wanna lay

right next to you,

but your laying next to him

and you don’t care,

that

I’m aware,

staring at a lake of whisky,

and I’m going to dive in,

ahhhhhhh,

look at the time……

goodnight.

..

#???-your underwear.

Your underwear

wasn’t really

what I was trying

to see through.

I don’t

feel

underwear hides

too much;

It’s just some parts

we’ve

all seen

before.

Now,

don’t get me wrong,

seeing you

without your

underwear

would surely be

a blessing.

I imagine

if I were ever

in a situation

that I were

seeing you

without your underwear,

it would mean

something

good

for me.

However,

your underwear,

and what was

underneath it,

isn’t what I was

interested in.

It was more so

what was underneath

your skin,

inside your skull ,

the stuff you were really

made of;

that’s the stuff

I really wanted

to see.

.

#???-your smile.

You looked at me and said

“I love your smile”

So I said back

that I loved yours,

and your smile got real big,

and all of a sudden

I could feel my heart

beating

and I wanted to feel

yours too,

and I said

“I think maybe I’m in love with you”

and you frowned

and looked down

and said

“I’m sorry,

I can’t love you.”

And our eyes met,

and even though

I knew that you meant it,

I still loved you,

so I smiled,

and said

“its ok,

you don’t have to love me,

but I still love you

and your smile.”

And you smiled,

and I loved you,

and I didn’t want to love you,

and it wasn’t ok,

cause I wanted you to love

me,

and you didn’t,

but instead of walking away,

I just kept smiling

and loving

you.

Your smile, your heart, and goodnight

Here’s some shit I wrote.

Enjoy!!!

.

.

.

#???-goodnight :/

I don’t need to tell you

why I love you,

just know that I do,

and I can be a dick

but I’m better

then he is,

and your better

then me is

but I just gotta know

what is it I gotta do

to make you loose sleep

over me too.

I just wanna lay

right next to you,

but your laying next to him

and you don’t care,

that

I’m aware,

staring at a lake of whisky,

and I’m going to dive in,

ahhhhhhh,

look at the time……

goodnight.

..

#???-your underwear.

Your underwear

wasn’t really

what I was trying

to see through.

I don’t

feel

underwear hides

too much;

It’s just some parts

we’ve

all seen

before.

Now,

don’t get me wrong,

seeing you

without your

underwear

would surely be

a blessing.

I imagine

if I were ever

in a situation

that I were

seeing you

without your underwear,

it would mean

something

good

for me.

However,

your underwear,

and what was

underneath it,

isn’t what I was

interested in.

It was more so

what was underneath

your skin,

inside your skull ,

the stuff you were really

made of;

that’s the stuff

I really wanted

to see.

.

#???-your smile.

You looked at me and said

“I love your smile”

So I said back

that I loved yours,

and your smile got real big,

and all of a sudden

I could feel my heart

beating

and I wanted to feel

yours too,

and I said

“I think maybe I’m in love with you”

and you frowned

and looked down

and said

“I’m sorry,

I can’t love you.”

And our eyes met,

and even though

I knew that you meant it,

I still loved you,

so I smiled,

and said

“its ok,

you don’t have to love me,

but I still love you

and your smile.”

And you smiled,

and I loved you,

and I didn’t want to love you,

and it wasn’t ok,

cause I wanted you to love

me,

and you didn’t,

but instead of walking away,

I just kept smiling

and loving

you.

One poem about Yugen

I recently got the Japanese symbol for Yugen tattooed on my hand, and I imagine I’m going to have plenty of explaining to do. Yugen doesn’t have an exact english translation, and depending on its context can mean a lot of different things. Anyways, this is a poem attempting to explaining what Yugen means to me.

Enjoy!

#???-Im going to take many attempts at writing a poem about Yugen

Yugen is

when I read poetry

or write poetry

or listen to music.

It’s going on a hike

and noticing all of the flowers

and trees and bushes

and the life!

It’s gazing up

at the stars

or jumping into cold water.

Yugen is reverence

for everything that reminds you

that you exist.

It’s the beauty of hurting,

of pain,

of change.

Yugen is a profound understanding

of the universe

and it’s

every little thing

that keeps you

going.

Chickens, gravy, and thinking.

I think I’m going to try to avoid doing another post after this one. It’s time to start putting together a poetry book and focusing on that, not stupid blog posts.

Anyways, enjoy!

….

#???-choking the chicken

I’ve been

choking

that damn chicken

every day,

and he just keeps

coming back

for more,

and I get it,

I really do,

I understand.

He’s just lonely,

He just wants some love.

Poor chicken,

he’s been homeless

for years.

He just wants

a hole

to put himself in,

so,

I choke him

because

he says it

makes him

feel better.

….

#???-Ok, gravy

They ask me

how I feel,

and I say,

“Baby,

it’s all

gravy”

but the thing is,

the gravy isn’t even

all that good,

but,

damnit,

it doesn’t have to be

great gravy,

just as long

as it’s

fuckin gravy,

you know what I mean?

….

#???-We think too much

I’ve been thinking

too much lately

about

what you think

about me,

yeah,

thinking

too much lately

about how

I’m thinking

too much,

been thinking

so much lately

that maybe

we’re all

thinking too much.

I don’t even read blog posts.

I promised I’d post some more poems if people read my last post, and the did. So, uhhh, here you go.

Enjoy!

….

….

#???-hitting the bottle again

Take all the sorrows you’ve got in you

and put um in a bottle,

and then drink it by the pint,

but don’t stop there.

Drink your mother’s sorrows,

and your fathers,

and your brothers-sisters-cousins-friends sorrows.

Drink up sorrows

until you can’t take anymore sorrows

and then you’ll probably die,

and leave everyone wondering what

possibly

could’ve

killed

you.

….

#???-dream gurl

She looks me in the eyes and rubs my bald head and she tells me “your the greatest poet ever” and I really believe it when we’re lying there entwined in each other.

She holds my hand when we walk down the street and we talk about the strangers passing by and how funny they are and she laughs and I love her laugh.

She doesn’t care that I’m broke or some dirty kitchen boy, she thinks I’m the greatest poet ever and so I write poems about her and I really believe she loves me and I think I probably love her

She gets drunk and I get drunk and I get to thinking that maybe she’s just been playing me and I tell her that and she calls me an idiot and kisses me and I forget about everything else and just hold her

She wasn’t there for the poetry.

She wasn’t there for the money.

She wasn’t there for the fame.

And in all honesty,

she wasn’t there,

she was just a dream girl.