Poetry
Yes, that's right poetry. No one's asking for it, but here it is all the same. Please enjoy.

—I’m a Fan—

The promotions are all written,
Lungs are holding air,
The tuxes almost fittin,
The day has come to share.

“Will they like me?
Will they hate me?
Will they even care?”

“Should I go harder?
Should I go softer?
Should I hit my contestant with a chair?”

Oh, but the questions must wait
Today’s the day to get your words straight.
All eyes turn toward the small screen
To see if you turn out great
Or God forbid like Sheen

As you look forward to Hollywood
You should feel better than jolly good
As you look down at the red carpet beneath your shoes
And around you at the chaos that ensues
Know you deserve this life you choose
And if you look back you will always see
A smile coming from little ol’ me.

Guantanamo Bay

is blotted away

With every plop of his brush

Just apple pies 

And butterflies

And Laura's calming hush

She tucks him in

Her patience run thin 

Fighting him into jammies

And the only attack

Was his late night snack

Of suckling country hammies

—Alone—

I’ve thought many thinks my thinker can think
I’ve pondered many wonders possible to ponder
Of life, death, luck, unluck, and how they link
Of my room, your room and theirs way over yonder


What is worth putting down on paper with ink
And what thoughts are unworth, to let go and to squander
Where should I draw the line between the things that sink
From the things I’ll keep dear and of them I’ll grow fonder

—Jason & Cory—
If I were driven to drink
I have often thunk
I’d be ’cause of you
Why I was drunk

I think of all the people
In our big ol’ planet
But it always comes
Right back to them, damn it

—Limerence—

His face replaced her imagination
Every bozo had his fuzzy mug
Her heart pounded from the smallest vibration
With each beat she wanted that lug.

He took her summer and talked of Paris,
but he left her crying on the floor.
If someone knocks but no one answers,
no one lives there anymore.

-I Stopped-

 

I stopped dying my hair.

I stopped painting my nails.

I stoppped worrying. 

I stopped stressing. 

I stopped.
I stopped.
I stopped.
Then someone accidentally texted me a picture of two toddlers.
I got out of bed.

—Play Pretend—
(to be read with an English accent)

You’ll be Cumberbatch, I’ll be Pike
We can act and fool the night
You’ll march here and I’ll lounge there
As we pretend to breath cold British air.

A tea cup of that, a piping hot this,
We wont fight, but we wont kiss
A calm sense of duty, for queen and country
“Are we ruled by monarch?!” Your eyes say we must be.

Diana is alive, so is King Lear,
She’s me, he’s that cat over there
Being English is a fun way to behave
But I’ve only done so in the home of the Brave.

—Private Caller—

The goddesses are here.
The ones with the universe in their uterus.
Pick up. “Genetics! I’m sorry.”
*click* “Well, I found it humorous.”

The gods are angry at me again.
All I did was sleep in.
Pick up. “You were needed at noon.”
*click* “I’m going back to bed.”

—The First Part—
I’m sure when you first heard the call
You stayed up for hours
Counting the crows and flowers
But now dreams have killed dreams that kill dreams
And I’m trying to settle the silent rattle that threatens to shatter my mind
By chance we find
An ancient bomb that went off
It opened and we found a sound of another kind
One so loud I hear it with my eyes
And tomorrow awaits our sunrise

This blanket’s much to heavy
To find the right position
And I don’t mean to be an imposing imposition
But can’t I take this pillow to dampen the sound of the gunfire going off in my head?

And then it gets quiet
And I can hear her soft sweet voice
Telling me to fight it
To feel all the things and know its my choice
To either let go
and sink into the deep end and drown,
Or to hold on and not look down.
So I look up
and see the viking
the bohemian
the tiger
that was my mother.

When your voice is double deep.
Don’t worry, I hear your heartbeat.

—Reddit—

Reddit, I love you.
You turn my grey skies blue
Memes both funny and true
Facebook doesn’t have a clue.
But you do.

The sun will rise and fall
And I haven’t left my room at all
Boyfriend worries and attempts to call
But I’m too busy having a ball.
Til my wifi slows to a crawl.

The heck is this?
You found a dead guy and posted it?
Angry commenters too proud to quit?
No way that story’s legit.
But I still read it.

I’m frozen cause I’m amazed.
My eyes begin to glaze.
I’m not easily unfazed.
But tonight there is a change.
Cause I just made the front page.

—Play Pretend—
(to be read with an English accent)

You’ll be Cumberbatch, I’ll be Pike
We can act and fool the night
You’ll march here and I’ll lounge there
As we pretend to breath cold British air.

A tea cup of that, a piping hot this,
We wont fight, but we wont kiss
A calm sense of duty, for queen and country
“Are we ruled by monarch?”

Your blank stare says we must be.  

Diana is alive, so is King Lear,
She’s me, he’s that cat over there
Being English is a fun way to behave
But I’ve only done so in the home of the Brave.

—Chasin’ our Glory—

Hasten the story of the secret plan of Jason and Cory and the last, Roxanne.
They look to be tall and able to pull strings.
Hurry, see it all, night owls make the trees sing.
Run out the front door, pile into the car
Eggs know what they’re for, we ain’t going far
Blood pumping, not spilling on the pavement
Hearts thumping, when we learned what brave meant.
Across the ditch with my older brothers
Lost in pitch black clothing with a couple others
Memorize blueprints but listen to the chief
Terrorize, wipe fingerprints, make like a thief
At last, to hit right on the mouth.
Act fast or things could go south.
Can’t see but we hear the splatter
Wasn’t me with the muffled laughter
Dump evidence where ever, in the neighbors trash
Chump pays for this or pays for the stash
“Goodnight bros, next time I’ll be faster”
“Tonight we were pros, we got that bastard.”

–I’m asking this miniature-doberman how she interprets this voicemail.–

Lessons are bought, but you have a price too.
You sit on a shelf and no one buys.
They see it’s as ugly as the nose you were born with.


Football is the most popular sport in America.
America is the greatest country on Earth.
If you don’t like football you can go back to your country.
Being weak is for Europeans.

-...-

Stumbling down the road, carrying three large rocks, was a 6 year old girl named Ellipsis

She never said a word

Each one seemed absurd

Until she dropped her rocks and said “Whoopsies”

 

She stopped in her tracks, had she heard it right? or was she going crazy?

But these were the facts

She had gotten too lax

She blurted out “Oppsie Daisy"

 

She picked up the rocks shaking her head, not believing today’s luck

That’s two from me

Better make that three

So she threw the rocks and yelled “Fuck!"

  • Grey Instagram Icon
  • Grey YouTube Icon
  • Grey Twitter Icon

© 2020 Pocket Choke Pictures