Songs and Poems
In honor of poetry month, I've decided to post a few of my poems! I Figure it's better than leaving them sitting in my hard drive. Some recent, most old, but regardless, I hope you enjoy them.
Songs :
A Little Gay
The morning has a rhythm and it goes like “Fuck!”
I really, really, don’t wanna get up.
My bed ain’t soft, and it ain’t warm,
but it keeps me away from my boss’s scorn.
But I got rent, and my landlord’s mean
he’s why I’m addicted to Fluoxetine.
I shouldn’t be driving, but I kinda have to--
bus doesn’t run and taxis pass you.
Coffee tastes bad, shower’s okay
breakfast skipped just like everyday.
I’ll make it up at lunch,
I guess,
Maybe?
A second over 30 and my boss says I’m lazy.
I don’t wanna get out of bed,
I don’t wanna deal with what’s in my head,
but if I’m gonna spend my life this way,
I guess I’ll be a little gay.
Caution to the wind, I stopped caring.
I’ll paint my nails—fuck you, Darren
Pink and blue, enough to scare em’
Life ain’t good, but I’ll be okay.
I guess I’ll be a little gay.
Werewolf O’ Clock
Snap! Crack! Hop and pop,
coming down on ya like a needle drop!
Come on baby, it’s time to stop!
Cuz you. Hit. Werewolf O’clock!
Fellas, hold on to the edge of your seat,
Cuz I’m talking about the place where werewolves meet
They got a thing for the small and love the meek!
Brother, they don’t eat the sheep.
Snap! Crack! Hop and pop,
Coming down on ya like a needle drop!
Come on baby, it’s time to stop,
Cuz you. Hit. Werewolf O’clock!
Just Business
Another damn stray!
Another sign away.
These boys don't look at the literature—
Can't read their signature.
Cold, heartless, and capricious,
You might even say vicious.
But hey…
That's just business.
That’s just business.
Money don't make itself,
We're in cold hard era of wealth,
and when everyone's making millions,
You gotta push for a few billions.
Pay the workers just enough—
They won't leave, it’s a bluff.
Can’t afford food that way.
Rent's due—gotta pay!
But, hey!
It’s just business,
It’s just business!
Cold, cruel, and capricious!
You might say avaricious!
Oh, you wanna form a union?
I’ll get the cops to run ya through then!
Can’t afford to feed ya kids?
Get em’ a job in the biz!
Oh, I’m sure they’ll do fine—
I hear they yearn for the mine.
They can worry about black lung when their older,
But by then they’ll be a hell of a lot colder.
Poems :
The Mind At Sleep
Away in a dark chamber
A man did rest his head.
He had little as his pillow,
but wailing of the dead.
He felt their fingers in his skull--
A weight behind the eyes.
He knew the Devil would be there
To claim a distant prize.
A Deer Named Corran
There once was a deer named Corran
He mweed all day and all mornin'
He mweed till they bade to get off the stage
And left the lil’ deer forlor-in'
Where The Gods Went
The king of hell reigns supreme
In his castle of evil scheme.
Upon the throne that sinners meet,
The old gods kiss his very feet.
Overthrown by sovereign God,
The highest of the heathen sod
now mere servants to lesser power.
Begging, begging, for their hour.
There Zeus and Jupiter hide
Split in half to wound their pride.
Out of reach, brother and brother,
Just as they made Tantalus suffer
The Woman in Perth
There was little I knew—little of worth
Yet I saw you
The woman in Perth
Your clothing ancient
Your hairstyle quaint
I felt that I met you
Though memory faint
You spoke in a whisper
A draw on your lips
Lithe as they were
You wanted a kiss
Someone to see you
Someone to care
At the tower you floated
With no one aware
The Bing
Oh sweet horrors, how they ring
In the stagnant death that is the Bing.
A sea of ailing inky black
On parchment use if ink is lacked.
Still, it stands as an old man rests,
and coughs it does as if near death.
The only reminder it will bring
That the sea of Bing still does sing.
Intrusive Thoughts
The tapping isn’t pretty like rain against glass,
or pleasant like the woodpecker’s drillwork.
It doesn’t always hit with a smash but
regardless, it makes noise.
The Dog Man of the Forest
Don't go out in the woods tonight.
I beg ye, don't ignore us!
We speak of the teeth that bite,
Of the Dog Man in the forest.
On two legs does he walk
but not a man, says I!
Fur shaggy and white like chalk
All who see him die!
...Sigh
If ye insist, then take this cross,
I beg ye wear it all the ride.
Carry on in pleasant thought,
And keep your rifle at your side.
-
I left the town that very night
With the good people’s prayers as chorus.
I promised not to take their warnings light,
and headed for the forest.
Down the path I did tread
Under partial, pallid moon.
Wooden cross on silver thread
with rifle I felt no doom.
Snap! I heard from branch and bramble,
Off the path and near the trees!
Were two eyes that seemed to ramble
“Halt!” It spoke! “Mercy, please!”
My rifle raised, I let it drop,
All shock and pure unease.
“You know how men talk?”
I asked the Dog Man with a wheeze.
“I do, I do! I mean no harm!”
He spoke and barked with equal ease
“I give you no cause for alarm!”
He seemed eager to appease.
Though my sense of mercy said
to trust a man who pleads--
“Show yourself or I’ll shoot you dead!”
I knew not if he deceives.
Thus, he did step out for me
in full moonlight’s shine.
Tall he was--white and black,
and in the light he whined.
We stared at one another,
a moment short and long in time
Finally, I did see a brother,
His eyes were much like mine.
“Do you have a name, good sir?”
I asked him with a smile shown
He looked away, and with a stir,
“Dog is all I’ve ever known.”
We walked beside—me and him
and spoke of our two lives.
His of wild life and whim
Mine of quiet pride.
Soon enough, we neared the edge
of the forest that he spied.
He realized our talk would end,
and he looked as if he’d cried.
He barked, and with a start
The Dog Man nuzzled my side.
With a twinge down in my heart
I held my wayward guide.
“My friend, we’ll meet again!”
I swore as I pet his hide.
“I cannot say for sure when,
but my word I will abide!”
Unconvinced, he gave a wince
In him a sense of loss.
So, before I left, I shook my vest
and handed him my cross.
“I’ll be back for that, I will.
A promise I can’t toss!
God would strike me as his kill
if I tossed a gifted cross!”
So If you see The Dog Man,
Who roams through the Forest,
I ask you treat him as kin and clan
I beg ye, don’t ignore us!