Simple Living

I’m a poet and I know it

So the caffeine tells me

Long hours behind the

Screen,

Coffee cups clattering and

Releasing the muse, y’know

We share a bed and pajamas

And a toothbrush, to keep the

Costs down, because

I’m a poet and I know it

 

I spend my days behind the

Books, who feed me new ideas

And a chance to share with the

Muse on the loo.

Art magazines and greasy poetry

fill the void, if you can

mind the smell, because

I’m a poet and I know it

 

Mornings are the worst,

wiping away sleep and trying

to keep the cats from my bowl.

I stick to the thick book,

plastered to my chair, with last nights

spree of sex and hair.

I’m not that bothered, and who should

be with an army cats, and a litter of

books that swamp the shitter, because

I’m a poet and I know it

 

Days run away from me, like a

giddy spastic. Today I kicked a

cat up the arse, to get to my mug

of plastic. I don’t think

much of the kitchen, and the

bombed out sink I live in, because

I’m a poet and I know it

 

Remember these words, when you’re

next on the john, expressing an idea

That’s yet to come loose.

No one can keep up

with life in general or the

joy you’re meant to find. Britney

Told me this from the Playboy, before

I could kiss her goodbye, because

I’m a poet and I know it

 

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

Could you pass the Pepsi…please?

Generally I’m very easy to please…most of the time requiring three things:

1. Take one glass of ice.
2. Pour some soft and cold Pepsi with your other hand.
3. Tilt your head back and feel the cold swirl of liquid.

Yes…I’m a caffeine addict. When it’s not Pepsi in summer, then coffee in winter normally does the trick. People who know me well might argue that my brain spins fast enough. I happen to disagree. Everyone finds their pet love in life and lets it rip…on one condition (that it doesn’t kill you). It’s mostly the things that kill us…that we are drawn to sex, death, money, alcohol and drugs. It might sound like I’m contradicting myself, but sex and death can be fatal.

Firstly I can’t remember the term, but some teenagers try to hang themselves by jerking off…and then if they are lucky enough to live through school and college…they will good on to sell life insurance to the very people that raised them. It’s rather fitting isn’t it? You give birth to kids, so they can pop you off when they get financially and emotionally comfortable. Life does seem to have it’s quirks. Going back to my initial point…I try to stay away from things that are more likely to kill me and/or my brain.

Coming back home from the local store, I didn’t waste any time. As soon as I got home I placed my posterior on my worn chair (in front of my computer). I proceeded to grab a snack, pour myself a lovely cold glass of Pepsi. Caffeine O caffeine! I love the hit of it. I enjoy the feeling of being 100% wired, and conscious. Obviously now and again I’ll grab a beer with some mates. But give me the sweet taste of caffeine, any day.

There’s one downside to caffeine…it doesn’t make you live as long. And I have an argument against that as well. Coffee keeps you alert, you talk and act faster. Therefore it’s not a sin if you don’t live as long, because you’re doing double the amount of stuff a normal person would, so that cancels out the previous fact. In mathematical term it’s the same as saying:

My Life – (Coffee ending it sooner) + (the amount of things that I get done) = Date of Death.

If that confuses you further think about it this way…if you take away the same amount you’re going to give back moments later…The result will stay the same. So now that I’ve justified a short and fulfilled life…I can sleep tonight, lol

 

PhilosopherPoet

pressed keys

ive got to keep on holding on to this keyboard and the life that lives and leaves me the black plastic keyboard gathers into my frown brown hands making a small mould for me makes it all feel like a dream with the keys pressed into my palms and the software staring through my rapid face im a simple king of my emotions, they crowd me now look for a face between the pages of roughly hewn software spitshitting my pages between brackets and hemidemisemi colons who themselves are

nervous of the cursor

but then back to the main page where i can at least breathe without an emotional choke and squeal from it you see i feel to good like that strutting out in the rough public who seem to throw a few glares and bulleted comments numbered by rage and date

again

maybe its me hiding behind that nervous cigarette held in my smooth fingers ive always been good with the smoke that drapes you across the room itll listen when you get close enough to speak and then once a mutter escapes it splashbackflashes like a firstime shy girl whose not meant for the show tonight

she will at least watch me

through the vital light and nervousness that crowds and irritates her curtain hair and fatalashes look at me will it ever last through the game and my bleak sense of interest a predicted momentum and almost just about ready to leap into the shadows smoke and darknavy part of her dress that

not many of us have talked about yet because the rest of the show seemed so much more muddled and interesting to the pie lit eyes and bakery faces cooking under those fragile dance lights that catch up with the rhythm laced into her loins lying along the rest of us in jokes beer crackedcans tenderjeers soberyears coke pulse and leftover smoke coming from me and

the keys i pressed

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

the wires inside

i closed a coffin today,

it was black with

wires of time inside

its burnt body

 

it lay on the floor

the silver fan

(cooling its heart)

Stopped and sighed

It lay in the warmth

Of my own curiosity

 

i was more technology than

this carcass, splayed before

me and the wooden desk

i could get off the floor

crawl away from the slow

undergrowth – over

our lives.

 

i wept more for the

numb life hiding in

the cage and its brain

my tears fell out

 

so did the battery

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

Where is my sword?

Over the weekend, I came to this realization by watching a BBC documentary on Ancient Rome, and then the classic movie 300 (for the umpteenth time). I’ve always been fascinated with the Roman Era. The reason is it’s a period of history that seems so close to our own. Okay, nowadays we’re not exactly watching people get thrown to the lions…and to me it was the birth of thinking. They tried to be as civilized as possible, and in doing so brought forward many ideas, theories and religions that would later be boosted a couple hundred years later in the Renaissance.

Call me the historian now…but think about it, if the Roman Empire didn’t exist (this includes all the thinkers, philosophers, scientists, scholars, and activists of that period) would there still be a Renaissance? Many say that the 1600-1700s was a time of rebirth in knowledge, although it was more an uncovering of past ideas and thinking. This is not to say that there weren’t new discoveries, but I see the Renaissance as a whole lot of people stopping themselves and saying, “Holy crap, there’s so much to build on in the past! We better get started and make the most out of our generation…”

Moving on, I think that we a lot to thank the Roman’s for. They were ahead of their time. Okay, they didn’t exactly have the internet, automobiles, and a Starbucks around every corner, but they did begin what the rest of mankind would continue to build on. The only regret (I have) of the Roman rule, was the institutionalization of Christianity with Emperor Constantinople, deciding that slaying a few pagans in the name of God…isn’t such a bad idea.

(Anyway, I won’t get started on that train of thought just yet.) For those who are interested the documentary I mentioned, it’s called BBC: The Rise and Fall on the Roman Empire.

If you’re into history…I highly recommend it!

 

PhilosopherPoet