We spend our days sipping coffee and writing meaningless words we think sound lovely together.
At the rate we are going
Will we run out of phone numbers?
Will we run out of creative names for social media accounts?
Will we run out of room for houses and furnishings?
Think about how many dogs come calling to the name ‘Max’
Is any idea worth anything anymore?
Is any thought even your own anymore?
At the rate we are going, creativity is dying.
Dear Mom,
Not all my art is good
Not all my art is bad
Sometimes it’s happy
Sometimes it’s sad.
Just be happy i’m not
Selling my body
For black tar
Heroin
Expedition to the clouds
Is a far more exciting-sounding adventure
Than seeing if Atlantis was a real
Lost city
Or if the Mayans really did just
Vanish into thin air
Like they never mattered.
Almost like they never
Even
Existed
Think of how many groups of people
Who’s ideas,
Names and faces
Are forever forgotten
Think of what happens to you when nobody
Says your name ever
Again
I’m dumb
So the world must be dumb,
I see the world through my dumb eyes
Putting a dumb filter
On this dumb fucking planet
Relax
Lay back in the recliner
And let your thoughts take you to the
Clouds
Breathe in the summers bright sky
Kick back, chill and watch time
Stand still
And the mountains soar through the sky
As the day goes by
And by and by times does move
It’s 6 pm and the sun hasn’t set!
Where oh where did my mind go this time?
Art is the only job you can do under the influence
Rest in peace to my forgotten ideas
Ideas that may have been genius
Ideas that maybe have gotten me to go somewhere with my dumb fucking life
My dumb broke life
My rich, genius, forgotten ideas
The poor things must be cold
So forgotten, so alone
Maybe someone can save them
Or not,
Either way none of these ideas really mattered,
They never even existed,
So rest in peace
You will be forgotten
Sex is fun you see?
So I know it’s good for me.
Missionary, doggy and sixty nine
Got me feeling mighty fine
Sex is like a sandwich
You can put anything on that fluffy bread
So dont be a pillow bitch!
Before he leaves you, give better head!
I’m feeling good
I’m feeling fine
The weed makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine
Finishing a warm beer from the night before
Dont want to waste even more
Drawing and writing while I’m creative
Until my hands and my brain are sore
They say God will forgive you,
But I refuse to ask.
All I can hope for
Is strong, cheap booze
And good smokes
Down in
Hell.
Poems from Lovers 