Thursday, March 14, 2013

I'm a Poet, and I Wasn't Even Aware of the Fact

A long time ago in a state five hours away, I was a college student. In my years of higher education, I signed up for some creative writing classes. In these classes, I wrote some short stories...usually character driven stories about nothing in particular. I also produced poetry about unusual subjects. Two of those poems were published in 2007 by a magazine called The Kiosk. Now, that magazine is available on-line. Click the link and search for the pages

12 (Blubbering Buffoon)
43 (Heightened Alert)

Now, I did create other poetry that never was published. These 3 were all recited at an anti-Valentines Day reading in 2008 that was dubbed "The Flip-Side of Love."  It was my first and only reading. I'm not much of a public speaker.

Viral Love 

Love is like herpes,
An incurable infection
Uncomfortable and tender.

The severity of symptoms
Varies for each person.
Reoccurring outbreaks
Increase painful discomfort
Of the heart.

Herpes is manageable 
With specialized treatment,
But love cannot be controlled.
Direct contact spreads disease.
No protection is available For love.

The Dopamine Express

Toot toot, all aboard
The Dopamine Express
En route to Love town

Blowing back and forth
In the white powder.
Crystal rails inhaled
Through the tunnel
Of dead presidents.
My numb face
 Unable to feel 
Her luscious lips.
Lust filled eyes see
Her pendulum hips.
Her bubbly personality,
That striking smile, 
And those bouncy breasts
Are the sensations felt
By the Dopamine Express.

I Lost the Voice of Reason

My ex-wife won’t leave me alone

Stupid me for answering the phone.
The only salvation is my weekly trips
Slamming beers while gawking at tits.

My wallet gets skinnier up at the stage

Each dollar essential, only making minimum wage.
Forget food, gas, and paying rent…
The dancers at Teasers is where my cash went.

The stripper climbs the pole with oomph, yet grace
Then slides to the floor to rub her chest in my face.
Quickly, I grab my secret stash of extra cash
Waiting for the next dancer to give me a flash.

My pockets picked, it should be a crime

Letting these teases rob me of every last dime.
Instead, I fall into their clever trap
Since they are topless, I don’t give a crap.

My mind on one thing, sex sex sex.

Deep down inside, I know what to expect.
I’ll be going home to my empty house
To accept that annoying call from my former spouse.

And this has been the first installment of my creative writing past...if I can find any of my short stories, I'll be sure to post those for your enjoyment....but mostly for a digital archive for myself. NERD ON! (I'm trying out a new sign off... that Batman rip off was too lengthy for my laziness).