Please excuse the comma splices, tense changes, verbosity, etc. I was just a youngin' and now I realize the error of my grammatical ways. Plus, I preferred the flowery and descriptive writing styles of the early 19th century and beyond rather than the short, journalistic post-Hemingway-style of writing. I love intense imagery and descriptions in general. Still deciding whether I should edit my old poetry for grammar mistakes or take the Beatnik approach and fuck it.

Disclaimer: I only wrote/write on bad days. Grand days have never inspired me enough to write as I've always used writing as an outlet. A majority of my poetry is angsty, dark humored, or depressing, however, I don't have depression, and I'm not self-destructive or suicidal by any means. My writing is mostly a tenfold representation of the kind of day I was having at the time. Embellishing the realities of my bad days on paper helped turn them into good days. Not sticking my head into an oven anytime soon (or ever, actually). :P +10 points if you got the reference.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment

Sunday, May 6, 2007


Hands and feet shackled, shirtless backs whipped,
Unfortunate and unforgivable,
The world, losing all sense of humanity and moral,
The conclusion of Adam and Eve's demise.

Our fight for freedom has turned cold,
Our voice is left unheard,
Our eyes, open, but blind to morality,
God's message is heard, but are we listening?

Our hearts, the rocky, dark earth beneath our feet,
Our voices, fade with the voices of many,
Our eyes, blind from what's happening in our midst,
Our minds, controlled by the media's wishes.

Our wrong actions are shadowed by the works of others,
The human race, at stake, for our own wrongdoings,
Our acts, changing, will reverse morbid outcomes,
Standing together, we fight for freedom.

Copyright © 2007