May 2010
14 posts
5 tags
Pacino Couldn't Solve This Shit
I’m sorry Mr. Rubicks… but who the fuck is you to make a cube? Trying to bloody my nose in front of my broad? You’re a spoke on a fucking wheel that’s who you is. Forget-about-it.
I cana barely make out one side and whether its blue, green or red it still looks like Donnie’s face after the bullet.
Watcha trying to make me understand three-dimensional reasoning for? I got 3-d! My...
Cool Hand Luke
Luke has just entered an abandonned church.
Luke:Anybody here? (walks down, looks up toward ceiling) Hey old man, you home tonight? (continues walking) Can you spare a minute, it’s about time we had a little talk. I know I’m a pretty evil fellow; killed people in the war an’…got drunk and…chewed up municipal property and the like, I know I got no call to ask ...
““Have you ever made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich only to realize...”
– James Sprang
Raising green bricks
In a classroom That sits off of a hallway. In a school That is perched on an artificial hill; Which inhales deep on the corner of a city. That lays like a badly designed carpet on the crossed legs of nature. A question is asked. By a teacher who lives in a green house built green brick by green brick.
She asks what being Green is. With the intent to make minds grow. And of course...
My Next Girlfriend
A lot of people have told me they do not like this poem. Some have called it cliche and small minded. Whatever, shit happens.
My next girlfriend will be smart. She’ll have a great sense of humor. She’ll be mad pretty. She’ll be really kind too.
But most importantly she’ll be down to fuck.
Like she had been high for years with lesbians armed with acrylic nails that would make Sheneneh...
Short story...
The fly on the wall moved to perch on my frame. I did not mind. I was busy listening to what the walls had long ago tuned out. These animals differentiate themselves as humans; and are Aware of the echoes walls cause but their kind does not consider what they put on their walls, to look and listen to, can look and listen back. Funny thing. The plastic of Clara’s nails winked a quick...
3 tags
She Sang
She sang, “I got the love of Jesus in my heart.” The subway churned onwards. Across from me a hunched woman with the Times clutched in her hand rolled her eyes up to the sky. So many feet below the concrete and sewer. “I got the love of Jesus in my heart.” Others placed wrinkled bills through the creased halo of her brimmed hat that flushed into her hands. And as she...
Fragmented Memories and Shattered Hands
The prayer that I remember as my first was emotional. Now when I close my eyes I see black. Like you do. Got these lines that I need to untangle. Can’t see the last one. Though I know I never got that pain to find a soft-palmed handler. So much can be gleaned from an open-eyed instant.
The prayer that I remember as my first was emotional.
He died when I was fourteen… or maybe...
05/16/10
Journal Entry
May/2010
Today I asked myself the question, “Why do you put pen to paper?” Conversations you hold with yourself in your head nver fully translate. But a part of me understood the answer to have something to do with the to inject tangibility into words. Unfolding the muscles with a colon. Putting the inhale in a period. Shifting the body with an exhale and a comma. And...
PoeticArtifacts: HAHAHAHA →
brianomnidillon:
These are actual comments made on student report cards by teachers in the New York City public school system. All teachers were reprimanded but, some of these are really funny!
1. Since my last report, your child has reached rock bottom and has started to dig.
2. I would not allow this student…
