by on

Wretched old whore
Dirty rotten mouth
No filter spewing garbage
Based on wishful thinking
Lack of knowledge
Using terms without no foundation
Facts just mildew in her brain
Making assumptions
Connecting blurred dots
Due to her ill sicken mind
I could publish her life on line
But that’s right I have a conscious
To have friends you have to be human
To go to heaven you have to have a soul
Let God judge that not a troll

by on

I am filled with darkness

and completely empty

I am losing touch

with full packages

I can not relate

Please fill me

with old clothes

to give to the poor

Please fill me

with toys

that children

can play with

Please fill me with

something meaningful

so that I can help

the deprived world

I am empty for a reason

to give others light

by on

You call

yourself a friend

But you are not

One by one

Evidence is clear

Meaningless word

Slowly my contacts

are erased from

my mind that use

that word

Don’t worry

My friends are the

words that are here

before my

awakened eyes

I know where I

get the attention

that I crave

It’s from people

who don’t even know me

that see me in

a different light

I “connect” with those

that write from the soul

and the heart.

I can accept the loneliness.

by on

Conclusions arrived
Mentally strange and delirious
Verdict is in
Deranged and unsound
Distinctly clear
Erratic and insane
Shining clarity
Unglued and unzipped
Opaque personality
Cockeyed and unbalanced
Dull as a pimple
You are my taint
An empty vase
Violent torn shell
Fanatical and laughable
Incompetent and childish
Demanding attention
Cruel and heartless
She’s the semen
Filling up the prophylactic

by on

I’m a fabricator

A creator of illusions

Wishful imagination

that does not have a

shut off valve

In and out of the rush

Inside the blinking

castles in the air

I’m a architect of phrases

A vivid storyteller

Dreaming of what

does not exist

A innovator of scribble

Fantasy maker

submerged with words

by on


Psychobabble is drooling
Filth sliding off your tongue
To a world that doesn’t want you
Chaotic rambles spill
Flourishing idiotic sentences
To only a southern cult following
Despised and detested
The walking anti Christ
An asylum meant for your family
Raising children to scream
Not speaking with an ounce of intelligence
Your mother should have used a condom
So the world didn’t have to put up with
Your nonsense and illogical thoughts

Check out my books!

by on

I am used

to color a fire truck

I am used

to color a stop sign

I am used

to color a red light

I am used

to color flames

I am used

to color Santa’s Claus’s outfit

I am used

to color a red ribbon

I am used

to color lipstick

I love the red crayon

Check out my books!

by on

Strutting contradiction

spewing selfishness

Child like temper tantrums

dilute your balloon ego

Even the scarecrows

don’t want you

A strolling blood clot

aimless direction

A rambling anthrax

Mindless and foolish

Even the soulless

don’t want you

A marching eye sore

Belligerent and foul

A corrupted delinquent

Hop scotching bitch

Even the demons from hell

don’t want you

Check out my books!

by on

Never do I rest

Some are addicted

Always being used

Some abuse me

Rarely I am shut off

Some break me

I am full of so much

Some ruin lives

I can be a problem

Some people die

My purpose grew

I’m often used

at the worst times

I have a price tag

Unlike a human

Please use me

appropriately

by on

I wrote a letter to emptiness but lost the address. I sought out the curves of my stars. I ran toward apathy but saw scattered dreams in a coffin. I was told to be practical. I walked through a smoke screen and ignored my instincts. I saw a future of formality’s as passion sat in a cage. I wrote another letter to emptiness and it was returned to sender. A bold red stamp was on the bottom of the letter. Find yourself.

by on

Requesting peace

Uneasy separation

Raising the white flag

Just wanting to be alone

Clearly misunderstood

No need for drama

Let me sulk from your daggers

and just leave me alone

For you couldn’t see me

You take no responsibility

by on

I am clear

I am measured

I am defined

I am used every day

I am a necessity

I am used to solve problems

I am beautiful

I am dramatic free

I am essential

I am needed

I am every where

I am value

I am not a color or a race

by on

Strolling down

Bleeding Havoc Lane

Counting the

shattered porch lights

Awakened by the

mountains of trash

Recognizing the last

names on the mail boxes

Falling aluminum siding

Mesmerized by the

paint chips

Boarded up windows

Awkward silence

Desolate skeletons

in the mourning closets

Tortured furniture

is howling at midnight

Roots below the ground

remain pessimistic

Only whiskey pours

from the ancient faucets

Slowly I pull up to the

street sign

Eyeing up the tape covering

the name

Tearing it off like it’s a sore

underneath

Burnt Memories displayed

by on

Eighteen is the magic number

Defines maturity and responsibility

Perhaps it’s just a digit

6570 days of being alive

But don’t know what you are living for

Answers and claims are unreachable

Eighteen is a number of legality

But not a number of wisdom

Talk to someone who has lived more days

Life isn’t about digits and numbers

It’s about the choices we make

Every choice from the 6570 day is critical

You just don’t know it yet ….

by on

I’m written on

Sometimes I’m wasted

I’m typed on

Sometimes I’m abused

I can be in different colors

Sometimes I’m crinkled

I’m different sizes

Sometimes I’m over used

I’m made into an airplane

Sometimes I wonder …

If I will ever disappear