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

Tuesday, August 7, 2007


My life intertwined in a vine of hope,
Climbing to the top with no intentions,
What is expected is a mystery,
Anxious to reach the top of the vine.

Grapes all around as I try to reach my goal,
Laughing as I ascend to the top,
My confidence weakens as I approach the zenith,

The green grapes, sour with taste,
The eyes of jealousy soon await,
I reach the height of the vine,
My legs, grasped by the grapevine.

My body, carried into an inferno of grapes.

Hatred of fruit,
Vegans beware.

Copyright © 2007

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