Drip me into a home
I didn’t create
Tiger blood
Product placement
Beware of battle hymns
In place of funeral marches
Nails appear
To have stopped growing
Am I still alive
For the negative feelings
To be okay
Still
Month: February 2015
Orange harvest moon… Wednesday February 25, 2015 #Schwervonpoetry
Last night’s show poem.
Nipples cut like diamonds
Across the stained glass
Heavenly hand-jobs
Between the pews
Old asses flat on the wood
Dress trim brush strokes
Fluffy pubic hair clouds
Paint Darwinian heaven
On the backsides of
Lightening struck trees
Praying squirrels hiding their nuts
Vibration in my chest
Feel the coat pulling
With every step taken
Swamp-man memory
Santa clause coke bottle
Glasses full of
Wine and cheese
Shaving cream balloons
Orange harvest moon
Egg yolk perfect
Orange harvest moon
(This poem was recited for the first time on Wednesday, February 25, 2015 at miniBar in KC, MO)
People pay for their slums
Fuck you children
Hate haters of life
I love hating life
The silent treatment
Not amazing you with my mind
The walks of shame
The bad catering
Songs about
Making things cheap
People pay for their slums
We see buildings
The fisting of brick walls
Student hookers
Proud parents
Small broken sticks
in the sidewalk
Flattened empty cigarette packages
Twinkle twinkle lucky star
I do not scream in bars
I do not talk up strangers
For uncomfortable
Amounts of time
I bow to lampshades
Seek the corners
They turn me on
What does the butterfly Know about its caterpillar life
There’s something
I’ll always remember
Some birds stay all winter
They know their place
The ether kicks in
Much slower in this town
What does the butterfly
Know about its caterpillar life
Pinkies numb
A pin hole into
The black box
Dark spot correcting serum
Tractors pull
All earth’s people
Paying for poison
Unpicking the locks
Protecting our ears
Cages of wood and nylon
Side ways obelisk
An island of pride
A desert of feeling
We are all the middle child
We see too much of the sky
David party of one
Bed in the center
Surrounded by trees
And fallen leaves
Half used pens in a coffee cup
Smelling is enough
David party of one
Dedicated to the art
The city is not a jungle
There is no clean well lighted place
No sauce making
My feet are snakes
My shoulder block of ice
Empty bleachers
Continent foot prints
All the pieces of fruit
The plastic clinging to
Edges of bowls
We don’t talk
We play music
Sleep is not death
Traps covered
Sleep is not death
The post office at The Front
Loading the customizer
Nuts and bolts
Cover the pavement
The snow keeps things warm
The middle is never defined.
A heart that pumps
squeeze cheese
The golden balls drop
We only steal what we deserve
A splinter, tooth pick
Drum stick
The contents of
A new taco
Street lamp
On a timer
A string and return
to the city
Your street
Your sidewalk
To shine all over again
Lucky duck… Friday February 13, 2015 #SchwervonPoetry
Last nights show poem.
Past Live have served me well
I hear the music
almost every day.
Lucky duck,
Lucky duck
Holy mother fucking fuck
What did I do to deserve
Being such a goddamn
lucky Duck
My brain
A passion field
Done up in marshmallow
And butterscotch
Bitter Ale flows from my stein?
I see my shirt
covered in glitter and cheese corn
My heart will stop some day
But my love will never end
A hard pea lodged
Beneath my mattress?
Twinkle Santa Claus eye
Rising from the middle
Of my forehead
The man on my tail?
I see that’s not gold
You lied for money
I look to the
Candy hearts and flowers
Dangling from my rear view mirror
Blood test okay
Balls okay
Cholesterol
Crusty old man
Texting in his car
Screams at me from his
Open window
Get a job ya bum!
I scream back at him
Thank you…
View original post 39 more words
Paradise at the super market
Paradise at the super market
No longer my job to worry
All the blues and reds.
I can stand for hours
Details
Cold air section
Kaleidoscope of
Plastic lids
So many words not to read
So much protection
So much life
Frozen fat
Chocolate heart
Smiling women
Choices carved in cheese
The war on salad
Sacrificing vegetables
A house of bread
You are everywhere
Lemons and
Cans
Decoding their message
Stay away from that
Can you help me?
I can do this myself
The collards are clean
They whisk through me
Like a wire brush
It’s so good to live
When you’re tired.
The store is like a painting
So cheap
So much to take in
Not to worry love of my life
We will be together soon
Making the rubble bounce
An endless adventure
Warmth escaped
By a thousand airport blankets
Journey inspired by
A well rehearsed outburst
Owl tree
By the side of the road
Making the rubble bounce
Learning the small moves
Necessary
Repetition
Magic wheel danger mouse
Sport war
safe trap
Twerking the dream
Guarding spaces Left for fire trucks
A closet in paradise.
Full of conviction
Spell check
combustion
Ignore the walkers
We all wake the same
All put on our reflective parts
One leg at a time
The cars line up
Cutting and baking
The content
Pinning butterflies
At the grocery store
Not solely speaking
To the
Masterbators and the
Excavators
not just waving
At the walkers.
A mansion in hell
Sense of humor
Yoga position
Guarding spaces
Left for fire trucks
A training camp for guards.
A place safe to love
Beneath yellow paint
And chrome
Beef Jerky Clouds 