Angst Without Pants.

Meditate And Radiate

I want to crawl

Through dirt

With worms

And beatles

And ants

Watch dust fall from the sky

And collect

On my fingertips

I want simple

Sweet tea and sweet loving

Flower petal reflections in kind eyes

In rapid rivers

In a room full of mirrors

I see myself


1 note ∞ Reblog 2 years ago

Eggs & Grits in Poland.

Frying in a pan

Because I can

I am


Smothered in all sorts

Of greasy buttery goodness

Made to be eaten

By a pretty boy

In the office of one

Second in command to Hitler

Barbed wire fence view from the kitchen window

Makes for an appetizing atmosphere

Yummy yummy

My eggs are runny

1 note ∞ Reblog 2 years ago

Rotting With Old Men At Death Camp

Saggy old men

Scratch at their beards

And sit 

Useless lumps of flesh

No longer fresh 

On Saints In Musical Numbers

It’s all in Mexico,

The fish in Mexico

Fly free as angels

I wish I were the fish in Mexico

The myth of Mexico 

Instead is me 

And who am I to be? 

Other than my fantasy 

Of fish so free 

In Mexico. 

If My Hat Were A Pineapple, The British Would Suffer.

I’m just angry at the world,

And my pants for attracting catsup stains.

But that’s okay because pants are useless when you can’t see them anyway.

The aroma of old ladies keeps me drunk.

"I am a poet." Said the cat

Swallowing his words like jellyfish soaked in viengar.

It was funny how everything wasn’t and nothing was.

So the cat laughed as he turned into a macaron,

Which Napoleon would enjoy one rainy day at tea time.

1 note ∞ Reblog 2 years ago

A Penny For Your Pants.

You can sing the blues forever ‘ol man.

You and your rusty old soul.

Hanging from the electric wires.

Hanging on to the time.

The smoke escapes your chapped lips,

carrying your thoughts through crisp country air.

I can hear them miles into the city.

Your blues. My pinks.

1 note ∞ Reblog 2 years ago

Something I wrote which I hate and might finish.

I found it, yeah, I knew it 

Oh my darling, she just can’t keep a secret

Waiting all night for the sun to rise 

What a shame you’re too blind to see it 

You think you’re running out of time

Don’t look back, just keep going

I know that she will soon be mine

Bound to attack because her eyes are glowing 

1 note ∞ Reblog 2 years ago

 I just want to die. 

I take my wine jug out among the flowersto drink alone, without friends.I raise my cup to entice the moon.That, and my shadow, makes us three.But the moon doesn’t drink,and my shadow silently follows.I will travel with moon and shadow,happy to the end of spring.When I sing, the moon dances.When I dance, my shadow dances, too.We share life’s joys when sober.Drunk, each goes a separate way.Constant friends, although we wander,we’ll meet again in the Milky Way.——Li T’ai-potr. Hamil 

I take my wine jug out among the flowers
to drink alone, without friends.

I raise my cup to entice the moon.
That, and my shadow, makes us three.

But the moon doesn’t drink,
and my shadow silently follows.

I will travel with moon and shadow,
happy to the end of spring.

When I sing, the moon dances.
When I dance, my shadow dances, too.

We share life’s joys when sober.
Drunk, each goes a separate way.

Constant friends, although we wander,
we’ll meet again in the Milky Way.

——Li T’ai-po
tr. Hamil 

2 notes ∞ Reblog 2 years ago
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