Monthly Archives: March, 2014


you are what you eat
I’m a shot of Nyquil in
a screwdriver who ate a
little something on it’s
stomach to throw the ulcer
of its scent
actions speak louder than words
I’m a limp with a brazen
middle finger and a smirk
giving bad advice to
you reap what you sow
then I’ve got one hell
of a storm coming so I’d
better not waste my time
with words and just go
for the gold.


Happy’ Monday, folks. Hope that you had a good weekend and that you’re rested and ready for another round of this. Me? Not so much, but I’m running off of my normal fumes and truckin’ along as usual. Anywho, above is a little poem that I worked on over the weekend and thought you might enjoy. It’s not polished, or pretty but neither am I this early in the morning, so I figure it fits.

Well, here’s to hoping that your day flies by and that you’ve got something cold and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight!

To Drink

To Drink or Not To Drink (x2)

To Drink or Not To Drink (x2)

I have met some who said
drinks don’t agree with them
I can’t help but to wonder if
they just weren’t asking the right


I have met some who said
drinks don’t agree with them
I can’t help but to wonder if
they were speaking the right



It’s short. It’s sweet. It’s Friday, folks. Hope you made it to the end of your work week alright and that the time off has you feeling fine. This is just a little diddy of an idea that I think sounds alright enough to stand on its own. Then, of course, I thought of a secondary ending and I ended up liking both of them so much, I though I’d post them. Hope you enjoyed it and be sure to let me know which one you favored the most.


Here’s to hoping that your weekend is long your drinks are cold.


You Are What You Write

You Are What You Write

You Are What You Write

I don’t want to be

I just want to write, me,
an addict who thinks that
life’s a bit more trashy
than it is tragic and
who just wants to find a
way to laugh instead of cry
and turn screams into
sighs huffed over cups
half full, empty, or
filled up with whatever I
damn well please

So, I won’t write about roses
romantic flings, or convoluted
notions for which you have to dig

I’ll be



Half way through the work week, folks. Hope you’re hanging in there. Wanted to throw up a nice little poem today after I did some writing over the weekend, and some research on popular poetry and topics. I penned some more conservative works and did some more perfect metered rhymes and, you know what? I didn’t like them. Why? Because that’s not how I am nor is it how I like to write. So, on that thought, I did this one instead and I’m rather fond of this guy. He’s real, kind of funny looking, a little sour, but he’s one hell of a fun guy. And that’s kind of how I realize I like my poems so, hopefully, you’ll enjoy them, too.


Here’s to hoping that your day flies by and that you have something cold and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.

The Honest Truth

The Honest Truth

The Honest Truth

To hell with it-

I got through four lines
five different meters and
still thought it read
like shit

So I crumpled up the paper and
deleted it off the page
struck the words from my mind
and then bitched about
my age


Do I really need an explanation for this one, folks? I mean, I should have known it would be a Monday poem that gave me such hell. I had it all there, I swear and then it just sort of lingered and taunted me. Still, there’s always some good even for some really annoyingly bad work- the first title of collected work I am putting together will be titled Let’s Be Honest With Each Other. Why? Because I don’t want my first work to have some snazzy title or some pretty name ’cause, as you all might have noticed, that doesn’t seem to fit me very well and if there’s one thing I value in this world, it’s being genuine. Figured I might as well be myself if I am going to throw my writing out there for mass consumption.

Anywho, well here’s to hoping (as always) that your day flies by and that you’ve got something and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.




Like Christmas packages we rip
the beauty off of souls
searching deep inside for what?

No one ever really knows.


It’s short. It’s bittersweet. It’s Friday, folks! I hope you enjoyed this tiny little poem that was inspired directly from Charles Bukowski’s Alone With Everybody. I was reading over the poem and this one sort of came about. Thought you might enjoy it and, even if this one wasn’t your style, here’s to hoping that you find your weekend more to your liking!




This world it’s got a
funny sort of beat
not really yet a tune it
worked its way inside
of me

Pounding primal thuds
and high barely heard
majestic sort of melodies

it’s not worth its weight
in sound unless we
tune it into songs of
who we want
to be

Regretfully Sober


Regretfully Sober

The work week snuck
up on me and I’m
grasping at straws,
stability that’ll
swing me through
the week
where I’m wishing that
each and every drink
had something stronger than
my paper-thin, another deadline
to get in,


Back from break and faced with another week. Ain’t that the breaks, folks? No matter how hard you fight, kick, or scream the work week comes all the same! Still, I’d like to give an ode out to all those who, like me, find it hard to face it without a good stiff drink. So, to you out there who are wishing you had something more than coffee to guide you on through I feel you. We’ll get through this together, I promise.

Here’s to hoping that your day flies by and that something cold and on the rocks is waiting for you when you get home at night!

Rally the Brethren of the Bloggers

statue of man on horse leading charge

Rally the Brethren of the Bloggers

If pens are
mightier than swords
well, we’ve got keys that
clack louder than any
army can scream and with
our shared words we’ll wash
this world clean from screen
to shining


It’s short, it’s sweet, and it’s Friday, folks! Welcome to the end of the week and I hope you’ve made it unscathed or at least in need of only some slight repair. Was thinking of you today last night when I typed this little diddy down. Thought of all the words and the comments shared between people like me and you and, well, it’s damn impressive what we can do when we put our mutual minds together, isn’t it?

Here’s to hoping that your weekend is long, your drinks are cold and that Monday, when it rears its ugly head, finds you roaring and ready to go. Have a drink on me, folks, and have a good weekend.

Monday’s March

step aside Monday, this is a job for coffee

Monday’s March

One foot in front of the other
Stumble out to the coffee maker and
Then kinda fumble to the tune of that
Hissing coughing sort of sound

Swipe it up and then swig it down
Check the clock as it ticks around and
Glare at the hour that you wish you’d never
Have to see again

Then get dressed as you squawk and grumble
Fight with your tie and then you tumble
Out into the world with one foot still planted firmly
In the hole you’ve dug yourself

But fear not because we’re all beside you
entrenched in our own graves as we march behind you
brining up the rear of that long walk we could all
do without.


Monday. Couldn’t stop it if I wanted to, folks. Well, at least we’re all here together, sort of a mutual misery about having to start another work week. We’ll get through it, I promise, folks. Just gotta put one foot in front of the other and maybe spike your mug with a little something to make the day a bit easier to pass on by.

I wanna go ahead and add that I saw the above picture on a Facebook page which I follow. I highly suggest that you head over to We Drink Because We’re Poets and follow ‘um along if you want some good inspiration, or just the occasional laugh or two. I have to say they’ve often made my day with a post or two they’ve done round there so they are worth checking out.

Well, here’s to hoping that your day flies on by and that you’ve got something cold and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.

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