I figured something out today.
The majority of the people I serve are completely braindead.
It makes me so angry.
Some of them tap their glasses, in such a way to make me hear in my mind,
"Oh yeah more water over here, would you?"
And I sit there and realize
I am a machine to them. A cashier. I make change.

I hate half of my coworkers. I hate to sound like a total ****, but its true.
One of the guys in the kitchen is just an *******. He barks orders, doesnt say please or thank you,
You know, all that standard crap that I have come to expect
Considering I have been raised to be the NICEST PERSON outwardly...

[It was around 13 when my inwardly was born and raised.
That age when all I did when listened to Sisters of Mercy and Korn
And wore leather gloves all over the place (fingerless, of course)
And cited goth poetry and Edgar Allen Poe in English class...

Hey... got the best speech/writing grades...

Women finally realized I existed.
I no longer cared for women.
Friends flocked.
I no longer needed friends.
People stopped trying to stab me.
I no longer cared.

The horrendous, hilarious, horrifying truth to what I felt those times
Was that I finally had acceptance when I no longer wanted it.
Oh, the irony (Coincidence, probably... Not by definition, just by realism... it was a coincidence that happened to be RIDICULOUSLY ironic)]

The other guy back there is a complete and utter clique-artist.
In every. Sense. His backwards *** hat, the jewelry sparkling,
His "homie" attitude...all that ****.
Now I don't care where he was raised, it's just that this guy
Gets all these beautiful, nice, seemingly very sweet women swooning on him.
And I sit here, polite, making light jokes and flirtation, and I guess maybe I am no longer attractive to women, because I get nothing. Even when I all out ask for a date. Excuses, excuses.

This may sound like me whining, but I am just trying to be honest about how I feel about these people.

Nowadays I find myself with my mouth shut constantly.
Making jokes no one gets... Am I high brow or low?
I don't get it, girls want this guy in the kitchen, they swoon and blush over the *******,
It's all rude comments and no manners, a lot of angry people, shouting, shooshing,

I just feel like this could be done a better way.
Look, call me crazy, and to all my readers,
I'm sorry, this is a very different kind of writing that I get into sometimes, but...

I think I may be one of the very few intelligent people of the world.
I think poets and musicians are many of the few. And I mean real musicians, not bands like
(and I will name them all just for fun, let them sue me if this eventually gets published)
Hinder, Shinedown, Nickelback, Creed, Nikci Minaj, Seether, Limp Bizkit, oh I would go on, but the list...
It extends beyond ME.

So.... We are all of a very select and important group.

And I think we all need to realize that we can team up to make the world a better place...for at least the next generation to come.
Somehow...
Even if we don't fix what is happening all around us constantly...
Let's bring the greatest art to the greatest and most deserved generation.

I love my life, and I love you people...
I just wish I didn't feel so down...

But hopefully I will fall in love, too. We'll see.

you taught me ABC order.
you taught me to rollerblade.
you taught me about limp bizkit.
you taught me the words to "danger zone".

you gave me my first taste of anger,
gave me my first feelings of terror.
how anyone could feel so much, all at once,
and let it out at something so mundane,
[your punching bag]
and still scare me so much is beyond me.

you gave me my first taste of alcohol.
miller lite, and i hated it.
you made me drink more, because well,
"it's an acquired taste, you know, like wine."
in later years you'd say the same of ***.

i still don't know how i let it happen, really.
one minute we were friends,
and no one really knew how close.
the next minute your hand was in my pants,
and that's the last place i wanted it.

in the next minute we're on the phone,
you somehow got my number.
you're apologizing, and crying.
i've never heard you cry before,
"what the hell is going on, a?"

give you a second chance? to do what?
to apologize? you never had a first chance.
meet you where? when? tonight?
"you know i can't do that."
then again, if you're leaving in the morning.
just this once, for you. i need the closure.

i still feel like i asked for it,
i don't know if that will ever change.
in the middle of the night, still,
i wake up, convinced i'm bleeding.

soaking through my sheets just like that night.
it stains my skin in a way that will never wash off.
the glint on your knife from the moon that night?
leaves a scar that will never fade away.
unlike the one on my thigh. it's gone now.

you took so much from me.
you took my innocence,
and i'm not just talking virginity.
every single person i look in the eye,
i can see potential.
the potential for destruction.

we are none of us born good or evil.
some of us are just good, with evil tendencies.
you, though. you're something else.
evil, with sadistic tendencies.
you're a ******* monster.

but i have nothing to say to you anymore.
i wish you nothing but the worst.
[i hope your **** hurts where i bit it.]
and i hope you hear my screams when you sleep,
every
single
night.

Like a child I sat in a corner and played.
Intuitively did the things that I wanted so the ones around me had to be persuade.
Mindless as a stone I kept on going.
Perfectly playing the part of a fool without me knowing.

Brick by brick my body slowly crumbled.
In the eve of night my life suddenly stumbled.
Zoned in a derailed capacity and now with a limited motion.
Keeping only my mentality but unable to make a notion.
I started to realized my biggest mistake.
Talking to the wall and the ceiling now finally seeing the path that I choosed to take.

There's a few things you should know about me before you read my work. First, I am a very passionate person. 99% of my poems/lyrics are based of life experiences I have been through. I started a writing about a year ago when everything in my life crashed and burned. My heart was broken, I lost all of my friends, I was failing in school, and had no support from anyone. All I would do is sit down and write. This was one of the only ways of releasing my emotions and coping with pain and passion.

I am an artist, so I also draw, paint, make videos, and play guitar. Maybe you will laugh at this but my favorite band is Limp Bizkit. Their music has gotten me through many hardships in the past. They are what has inspired my to start writing and creating music. I met the lead singer, Fred Durst. I told him how much his music means to me and how it has helped me so much. He responded in a very deep way. He told me "We have to reach the deepest darkness before we can come out into the light" or something along those lines.. I don't remember exactly how he put it. I believe I have a purpose in life, and that purpose involves what I am doing right now.

I am thankful for every experience God has put me through for I have learned a great deal out of each one. Not only do I learn more about people who have come into my life, but I learn even more about myself each step of the way. No matter how hard things get, I will always come out as a stronger and deeper person.

Sleep can't help me now. Nothing can help
me now. As many people care, and as sure as I am that the number of people that do care is less than or equal to zero, I still regret waking up every day. How hard is it to feel

When do the days grow into hours grow into grow in grow to the
     top of the forest where the environment sways back and forth
          on unstable ground where everything is constantly shifting
and sinking deeper and
                           deeper and
                                d
                           ­      e
                                  e
                           ­        p
                                    e
                         ­            r, to the point where nothing even matters anymore and the only sounds anybody hears are just the bittersweet echoes of whatever ounce of sadness you still have saved for a special occasion. Represent the resentment that resides in the recesses of your wretched receptacle that reaches for any affection afflicted amorously to our attached arteries and alveoli and attend to any of our other needs. Remember not to cast asunder others or to deprecate mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers who should love one another for each other as well as the lovers who quiver and shudder at affection and attention reflected at their functioning conjunction of otherworldly love for one another. Know what you want and need and see to it that you get to be the best you could be and tell yourself to be free! Scream to your creators and scream to yourself that I, yes I can be whatever I want to be and whatever social constructions will not let me see, then I wish to be freed and I get down on both knees and pray to whomever will hear my dreams.

Know that there is no being more powerful in your life than you. You are the Alpha and Omega, the Logos and the Pathos, the Shakespeare and the Limp Bizkit. Everything that you ever want is an achievable aspiration, and all you need to do is know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know that when you grow old and frail and brittle that your body will ache with the experience of a person who has been to hell and back and maybe back to hell one more time because you were young and never learned. So play games, jump and run, dance and sing, do something you'd never do normally, try out for the play, play sports, write a poem, write a song, write anything at all, talk to people, talk to strangers, sleep for 4 hours instead of 8, sleep for 12 hours instead of 4, think and think and think until it drives you to drink and think some more. Know that you wish and wish to know that everything you want and need is obtainable and in your reach. Life is alive and wants you to live, so show Life respect and do what it wants you to do: Go.

overlaid with façade of fiction = Mein Kampf

in summer re:
typed out during winter of my discontent,
when yours truly no spring chicken
stirred ruse to expatiate poetically
regarding following rhyming reason,
hence mine lovely bones
into graveyard will shortly fall.

No need for yours truly to dig deep,
(albeit bonafide figuratively)
by Dickens thru mine Uriah Heep,
a gnarled mass creep
ping, comprising, encompassing, glomming
abysmal existence strewn with hard times,

such that I wanna leap
out this metaphorical bleak house,
a black hole in the wall swallowing
i.e. disallowing any peep
ordinarily yawping, proliferating, flirting...
now fumfering lamely issued by keep
ping low profile super tramping cheap

trickster, our mutual friend
Matthew Scott Harris,
harkens back quite a few winters ago,
where lack of functioning heating unit
(think male ***** if ye will)
upended, rendered, discombobulated...
scrappy body electric hominid
to experience quality sleep.

Principal reason I write
to balance and aright
gratitude regarding unexpected tidy largesse
constituting special trust fund
(thank you dad -
spirit of Boyce Brandon Harris),
where eyes suddenly got bright,
and bushy tail wagged
incessantly day and night,
a sensible palliative temporarily
eased penury plight,
which cash equivalent,

equals countless denominations
characterized, granted, lorded...
Benjamins, Clevelands, McKinley's
plus dime a dozen legal tender
currency memorializing other presidents
blessedly alleviated quite
helpful thwarting necessity to fight
off bill collectors brandishing
armstrong lance compelling me
to summon black knight
in shining armor lodged within white
castle amidst prickly bishop

obviously one prone easily to excite
amusing little lord Fauntleroy
groomed as heir to throne,
enthusiasm since his birth did ignite
(Aesop pose) storybook life,
where fanciful elation did take flight
buzzfeeding, droning, fancifully feasting
on par with... I twist Oliver (all over)
courtesy Mister Bumble bee in flight
sweet nectar amidst lilies of the field
analogous to stripling Adam - fine lad
eve vent chilly seeking delight.

Ah to gather rosebuds while ye may
tis futile wishful thinking,
now at mine three
score plus three orbitz round sun,
which libido far out at bay
prurient predilections once
spawned time wracked to lay
waste vestal ****** such as... Little Dorrit,
now... raging hormones stagnant clay
hardened, atrophied, eutrophied,
jackknifed limp bizkit

impossible mission to kickstart
long bereft testy tickle
yar ****** quizzical,
slack jawed, and sullen at
deserted abandoned cobwebbed quay
ignored do not enter, keep out,
private property signals desiccated,
no place for Peter to take holiday
barring ingress to ply skin flute
amidst hollerin hootenanny,
perhaps convincingly explaining
welcoming Voldemort without delay.

Crafted one year ago today
yours truly – hopefully self plagiarism okay
worse case scenario,
I would meet ill fate re: kenway
named after Assassin Creed
Black Flag's protagonist.

"Yo, I totally Kenwayed that guy."
by Bilbusbagginzies

Passive stance, but aye agreed
and did promise to pledge troth
faster than greased lightning airspeed
once the missus temporarily
ceased menarche regarding monthly bleed
became in family way with child
thee eldest, whom one day may breed,
when permanently settled
or opting out begetting offspring,
alluded daughter much more mature,
cuz parent trap truly ensnared me,
and I nearly capsized
manning figurative prairie schooner,
I captained poorly
barely surviving emotionally
analogously shipwrecked existence
I must forthrightly concede
done dirt cheap ***** deed.

Unlike das papa, first born proactive
taking preventative measures
to avoid begetting offspring
with college manual, she carefully plots
being masterfully persevering
enroute to notch curriculum vitae
with two additional years of schooling
University of Pennsylvania degreed
well self groomed for succeeding

at aforementioned Ivy League
years before taking
advanced placement courses
at Harriton High School
yielding to positive advisory feedback,
she wisely did heed
shipshape smarts anchors ahoy mate
passed academic challenges
with flying colors
well seasoned life, yes indeed.

Wherefore sexually reckless
behaviour, though I eventually wed
future mother housing zygote,
nevertheless did bungle responsibilities
to exponential powers of ten -
experienced challenges to exceed
capacity of yours truly to handle
whacking thru jungle of lady love
until...making head way
verboten fruit fricasseed
essentially purring kitty
I petted and proceeded to feed
pitched, hitched, ditched

libido in throes of monkish celibacy,
procreating analogous to filigreed
custom made jewel of denial,
bubbling self cleaning oven,
plus compelled tug get ***** freed
after being ****** asthma gumweed
glommed, where male member
tiptoed thru tulips playing ukulele
playing biological equivalent
risque business "Russian roulette"
pregnancy eventually guaranteed.

Unlike me wily ***** cocked,
limp bizkit primed to hawk kitty
then future spouse did not intercede
once peppy begged, connived,
to forego birth control and test virility
attested, claimed, *******, et cetera
arousal without prophylactics keyed
sowing wild oats courtesy yours truly
didst adeptly beg, burrow, knead
testosterone totally tubular
lil trouser snake did proceed
letting call of wild take lead
tube steak king claim for fatherland
heady after slurping boot legged mead
stifled unnatural prime mate years
pent up ****** urge, thus did supercede.

Thence sore relief yours truly did need
for swearing against wearing raincoat
at seminal moment blithely releasing seed
subsequent expense imposed
on fecund counterpart
with snoop doggy dogg speed
generating prickly heat
inducing ***** fied stampede
appetite for reproduction
struggling with common sense
(particularly lacking gainful employment)
raising and supporting young ones
incurred courtesy one or more progeny
needs and wants of offspring,
who sprouted like loco crazy ****,
as greater demands imposed
on their mama and papa.

January 7th, 2022

Assaying thoughts gambol,
scuffling as in an affray
née crushing, jockeying, stampeding...
demanding equal airplay
gushing as metaphorical think
spigot turned on full force airway
thru totally tubular cerebral
microcosmic aisleway
vesicular conduit fifty
plus shades of gray
exhaling sigh of relief, cuz

transcending writer's block
innovative talent with words
did once again allay
needless panic, where yours truly
finds himself punchdrunk
in some dark alleyway,
an unfortunate fate
aging baby boomer
once skinny long haired
pencil necked geek
during previous lifetime

branded as Unitarian heretic
and punished courtesy auto-da-fé
avert reminding myself
to utilize ujjayi breath
hard driving gateway
into Pranayama practices
analogous to make
emotional transit thru
golden itty bitty
teensy weensy archway

infinitesimal impossible mission
to pinpoint areaway,
yet crisscrossing meditative
zen zone an array
of utmost nirvana
will never lead effortless
mantra buffeted concentration
not lead astray
and matter of fact
lightness of being
scaling metaphorical kickstarting

rah height aweigh
up yonder within
outer limits of twilight zone
re: supraconsciousness
keeping at bay
non intrusive thoughts
ruff lee collaring, mimicking belay
boring bonafide dog obedience training
pant tum miming begging
for limp bizkit, thus
canine loosening seat belt buckle

one notch braving violating
no trespassing sign
despite restriction
heavily populated tint
head nab yule Haitian
made Christmas benday
eerily resembling voodoo
cursed poppet summoned
if anybody doth betray
not being spellbound
hence, blithely skipping

remainder of my poetry
magic edict I dust not bewray,
no matter red clay
rambling man evincing dismay
upon approaching his endplay
regarding scrimmage with death
when divine creator
mine lovely bones he/she will fillet
impossible mission to get-a-way
grim reaper who will hollar hooray
as one mortal man does inveigh
against purposelessness born
live free and die until judgement day.

Passive stance, but aye agreed
and did promise to pledge troth
faster than greased lightning airspeed
once the missus temporarily
ceased menarche regarding monthly bleed
became in family way with child
thee eldest, whom one day may breed,
when permanently settled
or opting out begetting offspring,
alluded daughter much more mature,
cuz parent trap truly ensnared me,
and I nearly capsized
manning figurative prairie schooner,
I captained poorly
barely surviving emotionally
analogously shipwrecked existence
I must forthrightly concede.

Unlike das papa, first born proactive
taking preventative measures
to avoid begetting offspring
with college manual, she carefully plots
being masterfully persevering
enroute to notch curriculum vitae
with two additional years of schooling
University of Pennsylvania degreed
well self groomed for succeeding

at aforementioned Ivy League
years before taking
advanced placement courses
at Harriton High School
yielding to positive advisory feedback,
she wisely did heed
shipshape smarts anchors ahoy mate
passed academic challenges
with flying colors
well seasoned life, yes indeed.

Wherefore sexually reckless
behaviour, though I eventually wed
future mother housing zygote,
nevertheless did bungle responsibilities
to exponential powers of ten -
experienced challenges to exceed
capacity of yours truly to handle
whacking thru jungle of lady love
until...making head way
verboten fruit fricasseed
essentially purring kitty
I petted and proceeded to feed
pitched, hitched, ditched

libido in throes of monkish celibacy,
procreating analogous to filigreed
custom made jewel of denial,
bubbling self cleaning oven,
plus compelled tug get ***** freed
after being ****** asthma gumweed
glommed, where male member
tiptoed thru tulips playing ukulele
playing biological equivalent
risque business "Russian roulette"
pregnancy eventually guaranteed.

Unlike me wily ***** cocked,
limp bizkit primed to hawk kitty
then future spouse did not intercede
once peppy begged, connived,
to forego birth control and test virility
attested, claimed, *******, et cetera
arousal without prophylactics keyed
sowing wild oats courtesy yours truly
didst adeptly beg, burrow, knead
testosterone totally tubular
lil trouser snake did proceed
letting call of wild take lead
tube steak king claim for fatherland
heady after slurping boot legged mead
stifled unnatural prime mate years
pent up ****** urge, thus did supercede.

Thence sore relief yours truly did need
for swearing against wearing raincoat
at seminal moment blithely releasing seed
subsequent expense imposed
on fecund counterpart
with snoop doggy dogg speed
generating prickly heat
inducing ***** fied stampede
appetite for reproduction
struggling with common sense
(particularly lacking gainful employment)
raising and supporting young ones
incurred courtesy one or more progeny
needs and wants of offspring,
who sprouted like loco crazy ****,
as greater demands imposed
on their mama and papa.