A BLOOMER IS A BLOOMER LOL

featured in the poetry forum August 6, 2016  :: 0 comments

So you are a late bloomer.
That’s ok.
You’re a slow burner.
Neither a winner nor a loser,
you are a hottie in the muck.
You’re a diamond uncut.
You are a stag deep in the forest
of real life.
There’s torturous trees here,
just out of reach fruits, and toads
who will be your friend.
Don’t worry.
You won’t always be like them,
but for now this will be your crowd.
You are their undiscovered orchid.
Maybe it’s best to bloom in the shadows.
Take your time flexing your petals.
Perhaps you’d prefer not to be clipped
from your mossy log and put on display.
You like to look up at the swamp stars,
unknown to unknown.

editors note:

How to reach full potential in your comfort zone… – mh clay

Don’t Be Afraid To Do This

featured in the poetry forum April 29, 2015  :: 0 comments

Let the tears fall like old ladies
on black ice or like roses on coffins.
Let the tears fall like pine needles
on the carpet or hardwood floor
on the third or fourth of the new year.
Let the tears fall like radiant embers
on the 4th of July, my Mayan birthday.
Let the tears fall like hail in August
over the last few days at the reservoir.
Let the tears fall like obvious autumn
leaves doing their beautiful thing.
Let’s let the tears fall out on the floor
like a puppy dog’s tooth or like bird
shit on your picnic blanket.
Let’s let the tears fall like it’s ok
because it is.

editors note:

Yes! OK! Let’s let’em… – mh clay

Bed of Roses

featured in the poetry forum July 18, 2014  :: 0 comments

Life is not a bed of roses.
But who would even want that?
I thank the lord
that life is not a bed of thorns
or a bed of nails,
or a bed pan.

Im really rather happy
that life is not anything bed.

A bed of roses really seems
more like a thing for the dead.

editors note:

Name perfection without pain. A thorny subject… – mh

REALLY OLD PIZZA

featured in the poetry forum April 21, 2014  :: 0 comments

I ate some really old pizza.
It was almost definitely
A mistake move.
Like how the people
Of Pompeii were already
Doomed by their lead dishes
Or how hookworms creep
On the bare feet of the poor
Patrons of poo holes in the South.
What poison or unwanted enzyme
Have I thrown into my mouth?
Over all these years what rare
Mold spores have I introduced
To my pink little insides?
The worst part is I wasn’t
Even hungry, just bored.
Thrills killed more cats
Than curiosity. No doubt.

editors note:

A safe snooze or a dangerous diversion? Pass the pizza! – mh

I Think Therefore I am Confused

featured in the poetry forum December 20, 2013  :: 0 comments

I think Therefore I am
at least a hologram,
a brain floating in a vat
a clone or something like that.

editors note:

What comes from dieting on food for thought? Confusing, yes… – mh

Back From a Jog

featured in the poetry forum July 10, 2011  :: 0 comments

It’s spiritual out my window.
Time to think of the universe
and how we are but hackey sacks
at the cosmic Bonnaroo concert.
So small, so meaningless, so many,
kicked around for no reason
but the entertainment of our high Gods.

Sweat drips from my nose
to the wooden floor
where hundreds of ants crawl
over the peel of my grapefruit.
I scoop it up and toss it,
ants and all,
into the garbage.

Grocery Shopping

July 10, 2011  :: 0 comments

In the store
I couldn’t afford
anything
but two cans of beans
and a can of beets.

While leaving
I stood by the gumball machine
marveling
at the Chiclets and bouncy balls.

For Mary Conway

featured in the poetry forum January 12, 2011  :: 0 comments

Just saw a big white Buick LeSabre
go by in the alley.
It had a big decal of a cupcake
on the back passenger window.
Looks like the car I should be driving.

It’s a can of beans day.

Last nite Mary and I spat in all the bushes
on the way home,
hoping to hit a leprechaun in the eyes
for being a rich bitch.

Labor of Lasciviousness

featured in the poetry forum May 29, 2010  :: 0 comments

The girls I meet wanna suck my blood,
not my boner but my bone marrow.
They wanna pull my hair and push
me out in front of cars and trucks.
Vroom Vroom Pow Splat.
They wanna back me into corners and hit
me in the face with axes and wall
me up with bricks and black cats.
They wanna chain me to anchors and then
Invite me swimming because they know
I cant say no, because no
is such an ugly word, and girls…

girls are quite the opposite.

I’m Lonely and I’m Handsome

featured in the poetry forum March 18, 2010  :: 0 comments

I’m a 21 year old guy
looking for a good girl
who goes Woof Woof.
You know?
I’m looking for someone
who has barked at a car
and really meant it.
Someone who could either
cuddle and watch TV all night
or go out dancing.
Yeah, someone unpredictable like that.
Or maybe somebody who scratches their butt
by scooting it across the carpet
with their legs in the air.
Have you ever imagined
a centaur doing that?
That image always made me
enormously happy.
Yeah, maybe she could be a centaur.
Yeah, a centaur
with a vagina in the front.