Kill Your TV

5 05 2009


I’ve slipped into your minds

I’ve stolen your thoughts

I’ve made you win

I’ve made you loose

I’ve made you buy

I’ve made you sell

I’m on every night at 8

I am the rerun running over again

I am the breaking news story, more about that @10

I’ve seen the news pundit rabble

I’ve seen the republican pander

I’ve got rabbit ears to pick up radio waves to fry your brains

I am the marathon of madness

I am the ticker at the bottom feeding your numbers

Prime time is my time to steal your time

I tell you which way the wind blows

I tell you where the traffic goes

I only have what you want to see

You know how to push my buttons

You know how to turn me on

So stay tuned



5 05 2009

Return from the dead

Infected Resurrected

Yum, I ate your brains

This Haiku sucks ass

Trying to hard to make sense

Repeating endless

I wrote these Haikus, during my poetry class, my last semester.


ps: I actually dont like haikus very much. For some reason they bother me alot I dont know why, but they do.


30 12 2008

This last semester at school I took a slam poetry class, This is one of the pieces that I performed at the Slam!

This is to Walt Whitman charged with assault to a bag boy and you know ‘what price banana’ so stop asking me ‘what price banana?’
To Allen Ginsberg charged with trying to be like Walt Whitman and being an unreliable narrator
Shakespeare thou is charged of slander of thy heavy mothers womb (taken from Henry III)
Edgar Allen Poe charged with giving people night terrors about a bird

My words turn to bullets
My mouth the gun

That is loaded with tragedy,
Conflict and irony all in one

My pistol paints poets blood
Across the hard wood wall

My poetic license cuts deep
Like a samurai sword

To allude to alliteration
In the mystic of metaphor

I wrote an Ode to the Elegy filled with
Epic amount of Blank Verses

Speaking in lyric, speaking rhyme
Tearing lines and stanzas apart till it hurts

The edge of my comma breaks
Verbs and phrases in half

My modifiers meltdown
To your inner sanctum

My clauses are true, my dashes straight
An I still can’t be shaken

My similes are similar
My imagery is imaginative

You better swallow a whole lot of sonnets
Before you come talk to me

Your ballad looks like a bucket of
Mixed meter and broken themes

Your rhyme scheme is to free
Its just A B A B C

Illuminating amount of illiterate
And shitty attempts at satire

Who is the punk?
Defying punctuation

You better read your Dr. Seuss
Before you step on my shoes

When double meanings are abused
All these words are confused

And to some it’s to reveal you most inner love
Or to rearrange emotions to equate to hate

When all along no matter what you heard
It was the power of the word