poetry, Rantings

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

Β 

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

Β 

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

Β 

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

Β 

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

Β 

Β 

Β 

PhilosopherPoet

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