Poetry

I love writing poetry. For me, poetry is a way to self express to the fullest. When you hear my poetry, you now have a piece of me that you never have to give away. It is unique, and special, and perfect.

A Boy Named Billy

One tiny, bright white light.

In a vacuum.

Ba-bump, ba-bumping in its own soup.

This, is the gentle quietude in which was spawned our friend Billy the quiet dude.

Into the woods Billy stumbles.

His toe is stubbed

And life keeps running over his heel with a shopping cart

Again, and

Again. It hurts really bad.

But the gnarled earth greets Billy like an old compadre.

A voice calls out, "Billy....."

And he's like... "Yoooo....."

And it's like... "Release yourself...."

And he's like.... "From whaaaat....."

From yourself, Billy.

The six inches between your ears buzz, and hum, speaking the dialect of you,

Preaching the smile effect of you

In your top 3 favourite flavours and hues.

And Billy's like... Holy mother of God.

And the universe is like...

"Mhmmmmm, mhmmmmmm."

And Billy says "I want more."

To which the universe responds, "Okay."

Your soul had no voice 'til it rejoiced in the choice given to speak when your face was made.

Do it a favour and let it out.

Taste every word that is secreted from your mouth.

There are little secrets, in the corners of your heart,

Who yearn to make friends with other little secrets.

Find them.

Know that the best fruit is picked and plucked and frozen for eternity

So keep a big fridge and reap often.

You are the camera guy,

The sound guy

Take something you love and put it in your mind's eye

Make it big and warm and soft and round and velvet and crunchy and lilting.

There is cathedral music playing.

Your favourite cookies just emerged from the oven.

Your field of vision crackles with so much colour that you can't help but cry a little

The best antidote is action,

Your mantras mere fractions

Of the badass enthusiastic spastic clastic dynastic sholastic bombastic little dude who meditates within you.

And Billy takes all of this and he emerges from the forest.

A king

A God

A great big fuzzy BEAR

And the universe says

Billy, you become what you think about.

Life is no rehearsal.

So put on some god damn make-up

Say unique New York a few times fast and go steal the show.

And Billy looks around for the first time in what seems like forever

And he's like

"Wow. So this is what it's like."

Into the Woods

The pitter-patter of life pulsates in this forest.

Humans just as a brightly skinned and painted walk its trails.

Majesty, layered in dappled green.

Tiny ants and dust mites flex their muscles and raise their chins toward the sunlight

Ripe for kissing.

Butterflies say screw you to their cocoons

And caterpillars say screw you to butterflies

You beautiful, strange adults.

Fibrous fronds

Dilapidated dirt

Questioning quagmires

Silence

Like a primary school cafeteria.

Silence

Like cars.

Silence

Like a well-worn woolen blanket.

There is sunlight

And it tries its best to hit the ground

Making good and evil of the branches

Light and dark.

Decomposing leaves bake a cake one million years old.

The air is butter.

The air is honeycomb wax.

Slice me a piece thick and dense.

Slice me a piece I can share with my mom

With my family.

The air is swiss cheese jello

The air is all-organic naturally sourced styrofoam sponge.

The air is everything.

Like a taut and ancient string 3,000 strands thick.

Brown

And volumptuous

Knowing

And with a pallette like a five-course meal.

The smell

Is like grandma's house.

Put into a gold, diamond, kaleidoscope compost

With flowers

And the gently beading sweat of the mother.

She is strong

She is old

She cares.

In and Out

Just listen. Just just just listen ok

It may be some quasi-stack-a-thousand-butterflies-on-top-of-each-other-and-take-a-picture type of suggestion I’m about to make

But just stay with me.

Just

just

hear me out

hear me out.

Just

just

hear me out

hear me out.

Alright. Very cool very cool.

There’s outside my head, and then there’s inside my head.

God put a special order out for me to be inside my head a LOT.

Like stacked-haloumi-on-my-steamy-toast-with-the-little-pistachios-sprinkled-and-parsley-on-the-side-for-good-measure a lot.

Lemme break down real easy

I’ll just lemme break it down real easy

hold on I’ll break it down real easy

it’ll take like no more than less than 3 or 5 or half a quarter hour or 15-7+b carry the one

ok lissenup

lissenup

lissenup.

Hectic

There is a transmogrification that occurs from the left of the right of the Center, when I’m out here.

When I’m out here, people get listened to.

Holdon

holdon

holdon I don’t want to lose you

When I’m out here, people get listened to.

Once I remember to come out here,
I focus my attention outside of my head,
I realise that I do not exist as me.

My eyes are located here but when I’m out here, when I’m out here,
A three sixty degree fully fledged layered GoPro view comes to life.
It’s like I can really SEE it’s a three dimensional object in front of my face.

When I’m out here, thoughts disappear.
Worries melt away like rainwater.
I’m on vacation.

It’s the most drastic change in scenery.
It’s like I can listen for the first time.
I’m on vacation from my own head.

A supreme sense of wonder grabs me by the heart.
Of the time left.
Of what’s to come.

And things come out. They can be created now. Things like:

The lowest and slowest
The flowest with Moet
I row-ed and show-ed
The blowest is growest

I stand with the man
Hand on the land
The van got canned
The band got banned

Suruptitously backwards
Stirrups issued re stackered
Corruptiously knackered

Bones to beat
Stones to eat
My tones are heat
And my moans are neat

My grandmas got shelf life
My grandpas got self life
And they gave me wealth life
So ima live my life

Ima live MY life.
With you.
Hello.

Welcome to Hiesenhausen
Welcome to Hiesenhausen!
Where the only people people talk about are present in the room.
Where when someone shares a problem or a tough time they’re experiencing everyone just LISTENS and gets their communication.

Welcome to Hiesenhausen!
Where communication is constant and open and people aren’t afraid to share how fucked up they are inside
And as a result there is A LOT of sex.
Like an inordinate amount of sex.

Where communities raise children, not just parents and relatives, and people freely impart their juicy funny stuffy boring saucy raunchy stories and kids LISTEN and are freed up to knock pans together or run around the room while the stories are being told because they’re fucking KIDS and to put a lid on KIDS is punishable by CHASTITY.

Welcome to Hiesenhausen!
Where people don’t give a FUCK.
About their flaws and imperfections and shitty unproductive thoughts they have sometimes and share these thoughts freely with their loved ones and they LISTEN.

Where integrity is one of the highest values, and people do what they say they will and when they don’t no one points a finger and berates them and instead they apologise and re-commit to what they’ll do to make up for it because just because someone is late doesn’t mean anything about their character or mean they’re any less of an upstanding shining fucking light of a human being that they really are deep down inside!

Welcome to Hiesenhausen!
Where gender and race and creed and heritage and sexual orientation is thrown out the god damn window and instead people focus on who they SEE that person as, like a giant or a legend or a champion or WHATEVER empowering point of view they choose because everyone in Marson knows that a complaint is someone’s POINT OF VIEW AND ISNT REAL so we don’t project what isn’t real onto other people and instead talk about it with someone until it disappears!

Welcome. To Hiesenhausen.
Where citizens embrace their humanity.
And they aren’t ashamed of being assholes sometimes.
Where they talk and create and fart and laugh and brush their teeth and do it all as one. As a village.

Come in. Stay awhile. I’ll add another log to the fire. Take off your shoes. Get comfortable. I just put on a pot of tea. Foods almost ready. Everyone else is here and the ones that aren’t are on their way. We’ve been waiting for you.

Luffy

The lift was assembled from limestone and iron.
In the Roaring 1920’s the whispy-haired Black-hearted Mr. Abicus Buxaplenty had it installed.

Every time Luffy carries someone up to the office he whispers sweet nothings,
He seeps between their eyelids and cufflinks and poisons the bones of their unborn children.

Ears are perpetually popping because Luffy turns cochleas to stone so they’re dizzy, always dizzy, backs arch, teeth shatter, appendices burst.

I am taped to the wall by each disc of my backbone.
Upper management put me there as part of their new employee engagement program.
He gains your trust, squeezes the juice into a Sazerac and rotates it slowly,

The ice cubes tinkle and bounce and make your eyeballs pop out of their sockets.

And then.

Frank Sinatra bellows from my pores, everywhere but my mouth.
The swaying hips of Nat King Cole take up the whole lift as he croons “Unforgettableee”.
A band stand CRASHES through the bottom of the carriage and Luffy takes a blow.
Harry Connick Jr. perches atop the shoulders of Michael Buble and they doubly slap Luffy in the jugular.

His stinky purple blood spurts all over the place and we cheer and yalp like it’s the last day of the rest of our god damn lives.
People take the stairs now.

Cutie Pie
If I were an adult I would do it all differently
This stuffy business is just too much.
Families would be bigger. Waaaay bigger.
My friend said his dad could beat up my dad
I want his dad in my family.

Yea and all my friends would sleep in a giiiiant bed together and we would trade off who the monster is and every night before we went to bed the monster would have to tag three people but they’d all have to stay n the bed

And if one of the tagged people says Persimmons 5 times fast then the other prisoners get freed but they have to be standing on one foot and they have to be facing the direction of the other prisoners for it to work.

And you can’t be under the sheets for more than 10 seconds or you’ll turn to stone for one minute.

And the monster has invincibility.

And the only one person can use a flashlight and they can’t shine it on the monster or they turn into a monster too.

For 10 seconds.

And it doubles if they do it again.

Yea and mom and dad and me would you make up rules together.

And I can tell them to do stuff too.
We can go on biiiiiig adventures.

And you can come too!

Yeah. And my mom. And my dad. And your mom. And your dad.

Oh! And cookies!!

Everyone gets 73 boxes of cookies and we get to sit next to our favourite people in the space ship and we’ll hold each other’s hands if we get scared and play cops and robbers where you’re safe if you’re touching the wall of the space ship but as soon as you let go to run across the room and steal the buried treasure underneath the cushion of the third seat over from the captains seat then you can get tagged and if you make it across you can tag other people and there’s bonus points for running backwards and clapping your hands at the same time so if you do both and make it all the way back across the room you get to save one of the robbers from death and doom and when you save the world everybody gives you their candy

And bed time doesn’t exist and you get to wear any clothes you want and go swimming whenever and watch movies until your brain turns to mush and you’re a big pile of goop and someone has to mop you up into 7 jars and freeze you and put you back together again!!

But not before sunset.

And definitely not on a weekday.

And don’t even THINK about it with any less than 3 other friends there to help.

Yea!

I’m hungry.

When’s dinner?

I want Mac and cheese dad! I can make it myself I just have to take the spatula out of the drawer and pretend it’s a big monster and WHAM! Onto the macaroni and then we’ll make donuts and French fries and soda and Cheezits and waffles and I have a huuuge pan I can cook pasta in and we'll have fruit roll-ups and chicken fingers and...

Golf Wang
This poem, this poem is WEIRD.

And all my life I’ve always felt embarrassed and ashamed for being weird and loud and enthusiastic and over the top.

I am afraid to be fully self expressed in case you reject me.

And yet, I came into this world as empty in the petrol tank. Everything after that, is up for grabs any time anywhere in any moment.

The odds are against me. I have deprived myself of food today, put on the shirt my grandpa designed,

My now EX partner wore to bed for a year when we lived together in Red Hill, now MY own damn shirt that I FINALLY feel SANE enough to wear again.

I came into in this world as an open book.

Everything after that, is malleable.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
PUUUUUSH.

AHHHHHHHHH.
PUUUUUUSH.

Here I am baby.
COME on. *Woof*

Languid Lauren licks liquid lilacs.
Yammery Yelnats yells Yorkshire yingyangs.

Scrumptious presumptions.
Dunkest Sun kissed crunchest junction.
Monkest funkest bunction rumption assumption.

Mmmmmmmm
Doo da dippidy.

Mary Poppins went boppity bippity.
I was born after my dad went zippity.

Like BOOOOOSH.
Name country birthdate parents, solar system.

All Thrust on to me at no choice of my own.

Like a squishy penguin underneath a polar bear.

I go dole like yea
This is America *woop*
Don’t got you tripping up.

Gumbo.
Gumbo
Gumbo
GUMBO
Gumbo
Gumbo
Gumbo

We all came into in this world as a blank canvas.

Everything after that, is malleable.

Oooo oooo oo oo ooooo oooooo -