Tag Archives: words

Refrigerator Magnet Poem: 13


what does the word mean to you?! What the fuck does it mean to you?!



Filed under Mr. Stacker, Uncategorized

to words not written (1-3)

this is a poem.

this is a – i’ve been up all night kind of poem.

this is the type of poem people who ate too much speed like kind of poem.

this is a i’m living each day like a new king of a poem.

i’ve been doing what I want, each day, kind of,

waking up dry mouthed and wide awake,

slipping in the hall,

knocking on the hall,

listening to the wall,

kind of poem.


this is the type of poem you write when you want to write, type of poem.

this is the type of, days turning to night, into days, type of poem.

hoping for something new, seeing everyone new,

everyone the same, type of poem.

this is a home for holiday, seeing old friends – kindergarten best friends – ordering ice cream for his mom at a gas station kind of poem.

it’s a i’ve wanted to be an off track better my whole life kind of poem

this is a no one man you know is happy with where he is type of poem,

and no one man will be, kind of poem.


this is a Blakean – i’ve feared these visions, my innocence vs. my experience.

you walked along the fallen rocks and kicked mud, we all kick mud kind of poem.

a “i’ve taken to long trying to write a poem” type of poem.

the type of poem you write when you should have tried prose,

maybe try to explain your ideas better, maybe try and get better ideas.

shorter sentences length, that one is a run on, do you check your grammar, have you proofed this,

type of poem.

this is a, “i’ll come back and work some more on this one” type of poem.


Filed under sangretti

I read Bukowski…

I read bukowski when I mingle with the smokers

It’s only fitting to 
Read his poetry 
Thinking thoughts I shouldn’t 
Not at work
But the smokers understand
Puffing away their lives
Relaxing in the painful erotic
of each inhale
I inhale
My last drink
And the degenerate face of love
The sex the sweat the fluids 
And I feel my cock begin
To get hard
“Do you understand Bokowski’s words,” I ask the smokers
They look at me funny
And I get funny responses
“Is he someone here?”
“He’s a philosophy guy! Just like Plato.”
I laugh
Loud and hard
Because they think I’m ignorant
Because I don’t know how to collect
A bill
I laugh
Long and hard 
Because I never wanted to collect bills
I always wanted to live
With tales of women
And stupidity
And drink
More and more and more drink
I understand Bukowski
His words his icon his wisdom
Fuck the smokers
And their slow



Filed under Uncategorized

A Barely Understandable Rant (part 1 (out of order?!?!)

Once a time

Dime by the bag

But pennies for the thoughts

Here are my two senses

…oh, right, here’s my two cents…

my blunder,

roll in the THUNDER!

The lightening and the storm

Dark and light

Is insanity at bay

Grey area rules the might

So take it to the drained lake




You can’t?



So…just run away then.

Ken doll face, flubby teletubby body

Wobbly legs, this is AMERICA at its finest

Smile at the crowd

Wave so FUCKING thunderously loud!

You’ve got a cult following

Following you like a dog

Bogged down in a rut.

Coke up!

Drink up!

Cough it up, fat man!

The hairball has you all choked up?!?!

Kat has your tongue

I got you

But here I am

Back at the street

…here’s my two cents…

…sorry for my two sense…





Filed under Uncategorized

Nobody Ever Told Her It’s the Wrong Way

As it rolls off your tongue and passes behind their ears
You start to ponder the interpretation beyond all of their minds
What did your words sound like inside another’s brain, through another’s airwaves?
You can’t ever quite tell.
If they have the correct grasp or are they holding onto Never-never land?
The truth stands; it was said.
Did the message, tucked away in a bottle
Make it soundly?
Without the ink running or the paper ripped and faded?
Was the letter received
The right way?


Filed under Willow Hutton

Hello Goodbye

Such solemn goodbyes
Tentatively bring forward
A timid hello


Filed under R. Matthews

A mess around

Siting in this chair got me thinking real hard
About the life that I live as I gaze at the stars
Keep my mind on the prize and not distracted by the broads
There are bigger matters than the jewels and the fancy cars
Too much weight on my shoulders, I’m not sure I can go far
Mentally been injured, these are my battle scars
No time for these war games, I show my Purple Hearts
I just want to live a good life, what ever that is
Something from the negative to positive
So the whole world is feeling this
Kicking some dope lethal weapon shit
I will tag the world in my message
So the scribes will jot me down for the record
1,2 just check it!
There is too much to say, and not enough words
Metaphorically soaring sky high with the birds
There is no need for the herbs, I am on another level
The psychedelic feeling I obtained from the several
Interactions with my self
To support future wealth
To benefit good health
I’m not just a figurine laying on a shelf
I’m a living organism, a written catechism
Nature’s chemist splitting atoms in the kitchen


Filed under cireryohei, sangretti