Love in Life

So sorely do we wish to find

A person who’s just like our kind

Someone who’s just as weird as us

That we can know and love and trust

A person that just lets us be

And even when we disagree

They know that we’re still meant for them

And do not argue and condemn

Because when love is tried and true

It is not only about you

It is a union that you share

A contract, where you’re both aware

That life is meant for everyone

And when our time is gone and done

You’ll find that what we all should do

Is live it not with one, but two

Dog Tornado

Are those pillows to your liking?

Since you’ve spread them everywhere?

Are you packing to go hiking?

You sure took time arranging, there

I do not get it, little dude

Why must you make a mess?

To be frank, it’s kinda rude

Why can’t you just lay down and rest?

All the blankets, all the throws

In the wash machine

It’s like you think nobody knows

That someone here must clean

Listen, bro, and yes I know

You like to fluff and puff

No more of this dog tornado

Because I’ve had enough

Dog Breath

What do you do when you’re faced with a curse?

A fate that is worse than your death?

A thing that can just be described as the worst

A thing that is Baxter’s dog breath?

I usually let him jump onto my lap

It’s not a big deal, normally

But when I wake up after taking a nap

He tends to come walk over me

He’ll stand on my chest and look into my eye

As if to say “time to get up”

And then he will yawn and make me want to die

As I gag and say “close your mouth, pup”

It’s really not funny, because when he yawns

It’s like he’s exhaling his guts

His breath smells like what he ate from dusk to dawn

And what’s more, he’ll stand on my nuts

So I must say, as I lie here today

Typing and scribbling words

Buy a dog bed, so when you hit the hay

You’ll wake up, and only hear birds

Sleepenstein

Since all I ever do is sleep, a new word I shall give

Replace each word with “sleep” I will, instead of “life” or “live”

We do not have much time to waste, my point, do not contort

So sleep each day as if your last, because our sleep is short

I hate it when peeps waste my time, it’s not like it comes cheap

So get out of my way, alright? I have a life to sleep

Actually I take that back, I meant a sleep to sleep

When Franken’s doctor brought me back, he said “IT IS ASLEEP!”

Life

A raindrop has one chance to fall

To land where it might fulfill all

As do dandelions sway

They, just once, will drift away

Breeze will carry, gently now

The seeds of life that they endow

No second chances, no regrets

One life is what each person gets

Do not be nervous

Feel not afraid

Destroy doubt’s wall

And barricade

Live your life as you want to

Do the things you want to do

Boldly tell the one you love

You’re meant to be and not scared of

Embrace the world as you see fit

For time, we don’t get much of it

Make the most of what you’ve got

Live and laugh and love, a lot

A Turn of Events

Once upon a time a lovely maiden did her chores

She cooked and cleaned and washed and dried and wiped down all the floors

And though her Lord looked down at her, ironically this man

Would force himself upon her because when you’re Lord you think you can

He used her for his twisted games, he thought it was alright

Sadly she just let it be, so she could feed her son at night

And so it went for years and years, till finally one day

Her son grew up and saw the truth, saying that “this man must pay”

Despite his mother’s cries and pleas, the son could not forgive

He told her she deserved much more, this was not a way to live

His mom, you see, quick to agree, would never punish him

Her heart was her worst enemy, enabling Lord to live in sin

So the son approached the man, he stood much taller than Lord did

As the Lord said “hello boy, you’ve grown so much since just a kid”

“I know,” son said, “it must be strange, to to be on the receiving end”

“Of the games you play at night, I bet your wife won’t comprehend”

“Won’t comprehend the things you do, to satisfy your appetite”

“I can’t imagine how a person does this and then sleeps at night”

“At least it doesn’t matter now, because I give what is deserved”

“What’s that,” you ask? “To be frank, I really hate to touch a nerve”

“But since we’re here I will be clear, this might begin to sting a bit”

“I’ve wanted this for oh so long, because you’re such a piece of shit”

“It’s my turn now, so turn around, this will not end quick I must say”

“This won’t be fun, and when I’m done, this broomstick will make sure you pay”

The Good Die Young

A man enters a lonely room, we’ll call him Mr. Bad

Another joins the other, Mr. Goodman, his comrade

They act and play and do the things that all the people do

And every time that Goodman wins folks’ love, Bad smiles too

“Sure it’s great, I do not hate, for Goodman is the best!”

But on the inside, Mr. Bad is beating on his chest

He writhes around until he’s found someone who hates Good too

And plots with them behind the scenes ‘cause that’s what people do

“Come here my dear, now tell me clear, why is it Good you hate?”

Bad asks the girl he found when he pretends they’re on a date

“He’s about him, he’s arrogant, it rubs me the wrong way!”

The words this little lady said what bothered her that day

“I know!” Said Bad, “The facts are had!

To tell you the whole truth

I hate him too, here’s what we’ll do,

we’ll end it in the booth”

And so it went, although Good meant, to only lend a hand

He died that day, I’m sad to say, on this election stand

And so it goes, as we all know, that’s how these things play out

When jealousy, toxicity, takes hold and causes doubt

So if I may, let me please say, if you’re a Mr. Bad

Take my advice: change your life, or you will wish you had.

Where Do You Belong

You ask me why I’m like this

I’ll tell you best I can

Some things have happened in my life

That made me who I am

I used to see things one way

But that way got turned to two

And then I started seeing things

From all these points of view

Everything around me changed

◦ ‘Twas different than before

The world revealed itself to me

As it drug me ‘cross the floor

It showed me everything it made

It showed me that I’m lost

It showed me that there’s many more

Who feel the same exhaust

Then, it softly spoke to me

It told me to be strong

And if you let your weakness win

You’re right where you belong

Sleepster

If you were to ask “What’s he good at now, Matt?”

I would tell you that there is one thing

If you were to ask “Does it make him look fat?”

I would say “Really? Just look at the thing.”

For of all of the things we can do in this world

He basically cares about one

Which is to lie down in a ball as he’s curled

While scoffing when I ask to run

He truly cares not, nothing matters to him

Except for a treat and a nap

If I ask if he’d like to go lift in the gym

He’d say “no, I’ll just sleep on your lap”

“I sleep over here, I sleep over there”

“Must I be forced to pick only one?

“I think that instead, since I’m a dog that is fair”

“I’ll sleep on them all, but you can go run”

We’re All Just Bros

Broseph Stalin, communist, said capitalism, no more

Hipbropatamus in water and he’s swimming to the shore

Winter clouds above and the bro began to pour

She said to put this down so I’ll just bro it on the floor

Shopping all in silence I must tipbro through the store

I’ll bro through basic training when I join the marine corps

A garden bro will tend my crops, my harvest you’ll adore

Scarlet Brohannson takes a bow, and the crowd shouts out “encore!”

I locked the house so to bro in, here’s keys to the back door

Flamingbros at the zoo are cute, you know we all adore

But buffabros and the rhinbros are ugly, an eyesore

I do not bro if I will have the answer you look for

So do not ask this bro again – your question, it’s a bore

Okay, Dog

Okay, dog, I love you bro

But there are some things you must know

So please don’t take this the wrong way

They’re just some things I have to say

Please stop yawning in my face

Your breath is worse than cans of mace

It’s so bad that I bet somehow

One day you’ll singe off my eyebrow

Also, stop walking at night

Across my laptop when I write

You broke the mouse pad already

And squished down half the number keys

Oh, and when I’m deep in sleep

Stop staring at me like a creep

It’s so weird when I wake to see

Your glare as you breathe heavily

And one more thing, last saved for best

Stop standing on my freaking chest

I get it, you want to wake me up

But don’t forget who’s boss here, pup

Necessary

NECESSARY

I think I’ll write a poem that speaks epic truth, tonight
It doesn’t matter if you tend to lean left or lean right
Politics aren’t helping us, the gap is greater in-between
We need to stop fixating on whose King or who is Queen

We need to shift the focus to what matters, that’s for real
We need to stop the spinning and start breaking culture’s wheel
Martin wasn’t joking when he wrote that brilliant line
The story’s great, sure, but a grander message lies behind

Nothing’s stronger than a thread that’s woven one and all
But if you try to weave it on your own you’ll sadly fall
History has proven this, it’s not news to anyone
The ink in this here pen I wield weighs more than your big gun

Every life we live is shaped by minds that can run free
And if we came together just imagine what could be
Forgiveness, empathy, this is what we need
And we ever grasp these things our whole planet will be freed

Fire doesn’t put out fire, its ego you should bury
Someone had to say it, right? These words are necessary.

The One: First Entry

Can we be honest with ourselves for a moment? I want to talk about some things. Things like Facebook. Twitter. Instagram, perhaps. Hell, even Tinder…anything that lets people advertise who they are (or at least who they want to be) without having to concern themselves with the real world.

Yeah, I know.

It’s not easy to examine one’s self. We’d all much rather be judging someone else. But right now, let’s do the hard thing and focus the lens introspectively.

Sure, it’s easy to look on at the spinning wheel that is social media, watching as the people we know and grew up with move on with their lives. Comparison is the theif of joy, ain’t it? That’s what they say, at least.

It’s funny though because everyone’s aware, whether consciously or subconsciously, that social media is just a highlight reel. If only we knew who we all are after each one of those many layers of social graces and obligatory formalities got peeled back. The real, you know? Because as much as we market how cool our lives are, at the end of the day…it’s validation that we really want.

Most of us, that is. And you know what? That’s perfectly normal. Not at all a thing to be ashamed of.

After all, most of us just want someone who knows us. Who understands us. Who IS us. We want to enjoy life with a person who gets, more so than anyone, who we truly are. And I’m not talking about the person at three o’clock, bringing in coffee with the same fake grin we all wear knowing we’re just waiting for the hour hand to get knocked ahead a couple notches. I’m talking about the person we are when the day’s facade is over, the candles go out, and the door closes. That person you see when the ambient light from the TV flicks on as it highlights the it-was-a-long-day-fucked-up-hair and feetie pajamas silhouette. That’s the person we’re searching for.

And you want to know something? I bet you’ve already met them.

I know I have.

You Might Be A Writer If…

“All real writers are published”

Hang on a second, that statement’s wrong!

What say you of bloggers, huh?

Can poets not come tag along?

“Ha! We scoff with tilted heads”

“Real writers do those on the side”

“We know that true art lies in sales”

“For money validates our stride”

“So please, a blogger? Some stupid poem?”

“You think that these can pay the bills?”

“Don’t make me laugh, you amateur”

“Just the thought gives me the chills”

Bite your tongue, pretentious fool!

It’s not for funds, why true arts made

Passion, love guides pen and brush

‘Tis by-product, when we get paid

And cut! Fake convo ends as Matt chimes in

On wars of words, “label” affairs

I cannot help but ask them this:

WHO THE FLY’D FUCK EVEN CARES?

 

Just shut up and write, you dweebs.

 

Hard to Get

A damsel in distress she’s not, though nights are all besot with her

Affection widely chased more than even gold, frankincense and myrrh

Aged better than Venetian wine, smoother than a fine liqueur

Treat her as the Queen she is: this maiden we call Literature

 

Sought by many, caught by few, to court her is a Fool’s Errand

Exceptions only granted when one’s dedication’s apparent

Gentle, patient one must be; to nothing she can come second

For absolute commitment is the quality of all legends

 

Everybody’s knocking but the owner just turns out the light

Fight to find a way inside and find the lock is far too tight

I smile as I watch them shout and beg her for one night’s invite

Because this pen unlocks the pad where Writing lays her head at night

 

So intimate we’ve grown to be, forever I’ll be in her debt

For it was I who was distressed, and she who saved me from regret

Sincerely now I thank her for becoming my one true duet

Eternity I’d wait for her: this love who was so hard to get

Fame is Not What it Once Was

Fame is not what it once was

It did not do what it now does

A King would rule, a Saint – anoint

To serve the people – fame’s case in point

Yes, fame is not what it once was

So widely grasped for “just because”

No noble cause, just pride and gain

To serve the selfish, indulge the vain

Those who lived by what was right

Replaced by attention’s appetite

We lost ourselves along the way

Our cultures plagued by moral decay

And while, in light, we all agree

The darkness proves: wicked, are we

Perhaps one day fame will return

To what it was: no one’s concern

Back to roots we know once were

When life was not a fast-paced blur

When people cared for what was true

For those you love, and who loves you

Wanderlust

Wanderlust, traveler, perhaps even gypsy

So many labels they’ve applied, but in reality

Living life is all she wants, it’s really that simple

Her spirit shines through both her smile, and her cute cheek dimple

Life is meant for living, yes, a thing she truly gets

Singing, dancing, spinning round, she loves without regrets

Always brightening what is dark, this girl, so free of care

Defined by “one day at a time”, she’s happy everywhere

Some may say she’s weak, not strong

But she knows that they all are wrong

She is not lost, like others say

This girl’s just finding her own way

For all the things we say and do

There is but one thing that is true

Life, she says, is nothing more

Than canvas, white, awaiting more

It’s you who gets to fill the blank

And for this chance, we all should thank

This beautiful and wondrous place

For giving us the life it’s graced

Ask and You Shall Receive

I think you need to understand

That we’re all in this, hand in hand

And that we all stay up at night

Asking if this world is right

Or if its some sick trickster’s joke

And though we all think we are woke

Ask yourself, is this real?

Is this how I’m supposed to feel?

What is it that this life’s about?

I thought I knew, but now I doubt

What does all of this mean to me?

They say I am, but am I free?

My beliefs, and all my dreams

I thought were mine, yet now it seems

That everything is just a lie

A way to cope, an alibi

I understand, I really do

So long and hard I’ve thought it through

Our lives are up to us, you see

We, alone, we hold the key

My once dim light’s become a star

I see things how they really are

What once was so long locked away

Has pierced the dark into the day

Tasks ahead are much more clear

I’ve shed the shade of yesteryear

The dawn; it comes, it’s here at last

And answers everything I’ve asked

Support

It’s so funny

To me, at least

Each time I see

A friend succeed

As others shout

He’s a sell out!

In a negative outburst

Real friends agree

And true family

Support you, see

Help climb that tree

They do not doubt

What you’re about

They help you charge headfirst

It’s easy to see

The irony

For if you feed

In jealously

As people go

I’ll let you know

My friend, you are the worst

King in all but Name

Put my whistle to the wind, there’s naught another ‘round

Divided is the road I’m on, my choice shall prove profound

“Go left,” says he, “Go right!” says she

The demons, they’ve misled

I ask “which way?”

“That way!” They say

And so I point my sled

Every choice we make is a decision in our head

A string of choices, such is life, that’s all until we’re dead

When these choices come to you, what ever will you say?

Will you take the high road out or will you run away?

Make the choices that they love, My Lord you’re looking great

Undermine the ones they want and soon you will find hate

Treat the people as you would yourself, and you’ll find fame

They’ll sing your praises, call you King, in everything but name