i'm sure i heard a sob from the other side of the room echoing as the silent night grew darker and everything else was still just the sound of continuous sobbing escalating with every minute pitching low and then high i couldn't quite muster up the will to wake up from my bed and open… Continue reading a place more beautiful than this
the red blip would light up a muffled dial tone third rate with blots i picked up the receiver and stuck it close to my ears and dialled the four digits that i always did to hear the piano play on the same bit over and over again and closed my eyes to the flow… Continue reading fur elise
let me be equipped to turn on the lights when i need to but also to live in the dark when there is no light
I like to read my own poems sometimes most times to feel like a god for a few minutes and then get back to being a loser writhing behind a computer screen but the money feels good.
i'm used to being a watcher a by-stander in conversations I watch with intent as people speak with conviction, passion , fear and whatever drives them I am a watcher so successful at watching and by standing interesting, boring conversations that I am a by stander now in my own life
hands that shake and lips that quiver words that shiver in fear this is a stuck stuck place a nice made up face clean and smiling looks good from the outside rotten from the inside there's nothing to find here let this uncertainty take over and let if fly like these words not afraid of… Continue reading alive for something or nothing
Soft lives Lost spent looking at windows and tables and empty spaces wondering something Or nothing
of the writers that i have read, i think he is the only one that tells me its okay to be this abnormal thing in society. The others were high collared, classic poets who wrote about beauty and love and nature while he wrote about all the gutters and the shitstorms that a person goes… Continue reading Why bukowski?
and all the places that you want to be all the positions you want to take have already been taken and you can wish And wish and want All your life but all you will be left with is a bit of your self waiting to be found
we are spectators normal people in normal homes in unhappy and happy families reading and dancing thinking and drinking to the tunes of the creators the gods up above in their sorrowed castles writing poems and stories and life the creators the writers the poets the understanders of life we are mere spectators dancing to… Continue reading gods in the living