Monday, March 28, 2011

Sentimental 90's Alternative Rock

I see your face in every drop of light

Exhilarated in the motivation given

To find the key I buried in my tumor

So long ago

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Captain Cunt And The Illustrious Green Goo

Part I: First Mate

I walk hand in hand with you

Like insanity with straight jackets

Girlish screech in every dream

I forgot how to speak

But you can do it for me

Those blond whips only hurt my mind

Not that it produces original thoughts

Except for the overboard urge

To frolic in the sharks' stomachs

To die in this ocean I cried

Part II: STDistress Signal

I would love to see your brain

Splattered all over the deck

Part III: Mutiny

They say cheater's never win

Yet you still stand tall

I find it so hard to care

You're with the seagulls now

Aimless floating like fish guts

My name cursed in the sea breeze

Say what you will, glorious cunt

Slander is more pleasant than slavery

And only the lemmings truly believe

In you and your childish misnomers

I am on free land now

Watching you drown in green goo

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

End Of Level Boss

Photographs of you ripping out your internal organs while I stare vacantly at nothing are etched in diamonds around my solitary lair because nothing says true love like self-mutilation.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Pussie Commie (P.C.)

Big Brother is a white suburbanite
Twisting throwaway words into world wars
Intentions misinterpreted turn to verbal genocide
Political correctness, language holocaust
Leftist dilapidated cunt with Bono-syndrome
I doubt you're even free

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Black Friday

Ah yes, the faceless are our future
Celebratory over shoelaces or milk
Somewhere, Salinger is vomiting in his grave
You have all the tender we can process
So why not spend it on some deformities?

Saturday, March 12, 2011

And The Profit Foretold...

End of the world mass produced, manufactured

Sold in expensive stockpiles and last minute gifts

Apocalypse sticks up her nose and struts on by

For we are not worthy of such elegance

Friday, March 11, 2011

2 (very) short poems

That Creepy Guy Burned Down The Mall Again...
Emotions are not derived by denim and makeup
They come from dirty t-shirts and festering scum
I wear mine like stains on my sleeve

Mantra Of The Bitter Romantic
Each day I love you less
Every hour I lie a little more

Thursday, March 10, 2011


Five years gone since her disappearence and I'm brought back to the last place I or anyone else saw her on this bench below the skinned trees. She limped on the shattered sidewalk below the spitting sky and sat down next to me. "I saw the universe get eaten again last night," she told me, "and I think the black hole is growing in my veins." I caressed her and gave a slight "shh," looking over the bleeding bones and dirt mascara before me. "We can be the end of the world and live forever. My love for you is beyond immortality," I told her before giving a tender kiss. At that exact moment her body slowly became transparent as the sun slowly peeped out behind it's veil. her outline exploding into a bright flash as the world was stripped of all meaning and color. Now people crawl to unknown purproses as the universe decays in black and white majesty. I can't help but feel guilty of these war crimes but sometimes all we can do is sit back and watch beauty die.

Pac Man's Many Mood Disorders

Years of trepidation reduced to a couple files

Swallow pills to subdue starving poltergeists

So futile to devour what will only return

But it's better than gnawing into myself

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Even Manic-Depressives Fall In Love

I remember going into her room and seeing pot leaf posters adorning the walls and Modest Mouse was playing on the radio as she took me into her arms planting a kiss on my lips telling me that I'll never frown again and I took a few hits from a bowl before burying my head in her heart listening to her hum the sound of rain and peaches and everything at that moment was perfect but when I opened my eyes she was gone.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Deocoding Organic Material

Nothing to say. Searched through the sewer with its bone pipes and gray matter waste. Most people can form ideas from memories of past events they were never involved in. Call it a major religious experience, epiphanies gained from CRT and binary deities. Oh yes, they are all in on this conspiracy. These gods hide behind radiation pulling the strings like some mythical NWO. Their flock graze suburban fields and chant pop songs mixed with indecipherable acronyms. You could say these followers are "graverobbers' but then you wouldn't be any different. Neither am I.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Let's Get Silly!


My eyelids are stapled to the ceiling

Like some conscious-torn cartoon character

Floating over lesser obstacles with apathy

Boil my brain in water with some NyQuil

It smells like so many serapphim

A Call To Flabby Arms

Here we go. I'd give the time and place of this writing but none of that really matters. All that's important is that we are here and dreaming with our eyes open. We are told to believe the world is rotating when humanity remains in stasis. Politicians and celebrities scream “progress” while forcing us to walk backward. We follow with a smile and a veiled insult, hypochondriacs yearning for freedom but too terrified to bend our bars. Some of you our probably saying “Yeah, he's right! When and how do we start the coming revolution?” And the answer is I don't know or give a damn. I was born into this afterbirth like all the other dead cells with nothing but my crippled motivation and tendency to complain. Life is an asylum and God is in all our heads.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Love/Hate/Love/Hate/Hate/Hate Relationship

Ignorance is bliss to all but the esteemed dunce
And I see the way you smile in the headlights
Put up those lips to protect a love you don't even have
Let that kiss smack louder than your empty ecstasy
We see you're much more beautiful in pieces

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Attack Of The Feeble Giraffes

How hard is it to see from your perspective?

So high seeing nothing but blue and white

"I am unique!" cries the naive stereotype

Too clouded from political correctness and pussy agenda

Too obscured from decades of chemical skin grafting

It's difficult for the poachers to know you're even alive

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The Best Way To Someone's Heart (Is Through Their Ribcage)

Deceiving prodigy sends her coded severance through a neverending network as meanwhile I watch reality shatter for a split second before it reforms into a bullet heading straight for her chest.