I hate

that I get into the most ridiculously fantastical situations.

fuck!

because then they always sound like excuses.

I'm so sorry. please believe

me






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Why Can’t I Get A Second Chance At Life

I wish I had a mind to waste
I’d probably go to some bullshit school
Where my diploma doesn’t count for shit
It would give me more time to relax
And do my favorite drug daily

Wouldn’t that be more fun?
My only stress:
Finding time to get high

I wish I had a body to waste
No more workouts to get in shape
And Fast Food is so much tastier
When you don’t care
About your health

Wouldn’t that be amazing!
Not giving a shit
Of what your physical appearance looks like

Sometimes it just sucks knowing
That it would be incredibly easier
To stop caring
To drop out of school
To give up on my body
To give up on my dreams


------Ben Hubbard
www.footpowderproverbs.blogspot.com

vanity

Some subtle precaution
is always breathing down my neck
ravenously, as if starved
for attention

we're ignoring the ill-conceived
notions of dignity and grace
not only to keep what is precious safe
but also in a fruitless attempt
to survive the embarrassment

structured phenoms rise ably,
didactic as if we needed
another teacher.
we'll learn in time.

I'm sorry that fate decreed
a windfall opportunity
but I can't be righteous
without being right

I think we think
we have a choice
and that our motives
make the difference
but we're only fooling
ourselves because the
world is made of fattening
foods and pictures of
rainbows reflected in
mirrors but when our
arm reaches out we feel only
dust and tears, and sometimes
a quiet mechanism to tell us
that we're still pretty

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trust me

I don't think anymore
I just feel
just because its visible
doesn't make it real

controllers set fire
destroying people
amongst them the Liar
the lyre with golden strings
where is his silver tongue?

departing: the many
arriving with plenty
young flowers to fornicate
this is the saddest

I've given you reasons
that are worth believing in
if only to have something
to believe

I need a savior
to go out and save for
people are stunned
and think they don't need
to believe

are we so different in thought?

I know that everyone's
alone, keeping themselves
sadder than you could
ever imagine, and so
unwilling

I know I'll die from
blood loss from
keeping my arm out to help
for just too long

because despite all
instincts,
belief can make things
real

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How is that okay?
I’m not a toy to use.
I won’t sit here and take it.
what you did is called abuse.
You’re lucky I’m afraid
to report just what you did.
To let you have your way with me
was something I forbid.
Now that you got what you want.
what will happen next?
will you be disgusting with your webcam
or just send me dirty texts?
You ask me what I want.
It doesn’t really matter.
When you asked the first time,
you dismissed my wants as chatter.I didn’t want that to happen.
You know that, and I’m sure.
So why you fucked me anyways –
I’ll always be unsure.



-----anonymous

All of this by Yourself

You know,
The world isn’t always directed by the others

When you learned
Instead of being taught

Or poured your own drink
Rather than letting frat boys inherit your fate

You cut your own hair
Because ten dollars
Was too expensive

Promises under a dollar
Can’t even match
For homemade
Peanut Butter bliss

Even though the odds are earth to one
You surprise yourself
Decisive destiny

But why then do I bleed
When I pick my scabs?
Or rip out family trees
Because I drive drunk?

And that paper for poly/sci
Was pasted from the internet

I’ve got blood on my dick
And that girl from back home is pregnant
With my daughter

Could you really do all of this by yourself?


------ben hubbard

here is a link to his blog, which I follow: http://footpowderproverbs.blogspot.com/

drifting

Now that I am by myself
I reflect upon my life.
What has happened this past few years
that has caused this great big strife?
I do not have an answer
past what I feel inside.
But I think that’s part of the beauty,
It’s something I can hide.
And yes I have concealed it.
I don’t want the world to see.
I only want to pretend I’m normal –
that nothing’s wrong with me.
I wish I could find a cure
for what is going through my head.
I fear if nothing changes soon,
my soul will soon be dead.
I try to organize my thoughts,
often do I fail.
I’m not sure what I’m thinking now
what comes next I don’t know.
I think it’s starting to fade.
I’m feeling less and less.
I hope you don’t forget me.
Goodbye for now.
I guess…

------anonymous

goddamn, it just kills me every time

Estrella:
there's no light anymore
except the indifferent
tv screens
actually blackening my vision

I am a grim sort of death
a fathomless occurrence
not overly deep,
just no depth at all
a two-dimensional problem

wits and ego and
false hope and precedents
find a supple home
harmonizing, softly
inside me

I feel so selfish;
I ask "how am I so
light and they
so heavy?"
I used to have importance here

its stupid to think of anything
but that which we thought of
with no regret and
stagnant lives lead to
stagnant hearts

elegant empires with
empirical nonsense are
breaking the boundaries and
blistering the callouses again

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Comedy.

What a funny man you are –
It’s really quite a scream.
Soon you’ll see your hilarity is an oft recurring theme.

What a funny man you are –
with your silly little quirks.
with your sweet little smile and your innocent little smirks.

What a funny man you are –
you seldom are direct.
What you really mean is impossible to detect.

What a funny man you are –
the way you seem confused
but as you take me on this ride, I seldom am amused.

What a funny man you are –
your friends are on my side.
Why can’t you put an end to this roller coaster ride?

What a funny man you are –
with your silly college sports
I guess it’s entertainment, but the strangest of the sort.

What a funny man you are –
when you jump up and down.
You probably should attempt staying on the ground.

What a funny man you are –
O the innocence you employ.
But after watching the past few days, I realized you’re just a boy.


-----Isabella Ávila

I'm sorry, but the world is yours

sometimes, I feel like I've
gone
and there's an air of disrepair
for no reason I know of

subtly betraying: my eyes
describe my scenery, but
leave me to trust them
blindly

and secretly
I tremble in the dark,
out of fear and the cold.
always the cold

pariahs represent populous
demands mandating the demoralization
of ostrich-necked overseers
gleaning our knowledge
in a clandestine gait

and suddenly
I'm sacrificing loud
like cough drops failing
and we grew and we grow

everytime I ask,
there's no one
there to answer
me

everything is so
tormented and confusing
and I wonder
if anything will ever make sense
again

'til then I'll be singing melodies
and I'll be making remedies
taking cares, precautions and
protecting myself from the daylight's cruel glare

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Played

I’m out of control.
my life is a work of fiction
it is only a reality to me.

You, yes you, aren’t real
you’re physically there, yes.
but it’s a just a façade.

You know something I don’t -
like what will happen to me tomorrow
or when I’ll be released from this torment.

Someone put you here.
you do what your boss tells you.
but who is your boss?

I can tell you.
Your boss is a puppeteer.
He’s using you just like he’s using me.

Why you ask?
his job is to entertain the paying customers
your job is to entertain the paying customers.
my job is to entertain the paying customers.

The only difference between you and I –
you’re doing so knowingly,
but this is my fictional reality.

----Isabella Ávila

===========================================================
k, people who follow this blogamajig:

now accepting poetry to be published either anonymously, openly, or with a pseudonym of your choice: email me your stuff, I'll post it.

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This belongs to me, I guess

we used to be such good kids,
whatever happened?
all of us deflowered relentlessly
by time

we're growing older,
and relentlessly growing up
unfortunately

God, give me the courage
to stand up to the
stupid forces of scrutiny,
they are so strong

I'm thinking of all the places
and names and things
I remember
and don't want to forget

Love holds us strong
and keeps us in
against the dawn

I find myself wishing
that I were special
and maybe I could get some
special treatment

I think that God thinks
that we are just like
everyone,
but we're not

we actually deserve it

I lie here drunkened by liquors
so you know every word
is true and meaningful,
no filters or deceit

I'm lying here typing this
on empty sheets
wishing they were you

<3=blog

so...

I guess this is more of a poem blog then...

I'll still write the random...ness stuff here too from time to time

but I'll probably update fairly frequently with poems...


so yeah

∑<3(xy^n)=1
1=(<3/blog)
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the crystal clear division, and now and then: indecision

I think that I'm thinking
of some wonderful world
but I can't rely on my daydreams
because I'm the only one
who dreams them

I can't help but question
the differences in day and night
cycles of cycles and I guess
we all live inside them
again and again

I malinger, cartwheeling
extreme and paranormal
only in shades of grey
but never of gray
concrete is gray

I'm dark, I suppose
ungrateful and broken
maybe
I'd just love to be sure
but I'm not

I'll paraphrase myself
to emphasize the indifference
because even what I really said
isn't really enough
to say what I mean

I'm never really surprised
by actions taken
surely no one falls
so hard when they're
already down

I dream that I'm dreaming
but I'm not

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