The following are all short tidbits from my little book that I write stuff in. Some have greater stories they belong to, some are just random things I wrote down because they felt interesting.
"Sometimes things do go well, sometimes life is perfect, and in our madness we wish for chaos."
'halls filling quickly with the flock of students, each of us so common in our uniqueness. Handpicked shirts from a sweatshop, limited edition shoes fresh from the warehouse.'
(Some story I never finished)
I'd say my kindness to friend's ears,
Though they would prob'ly find it queer.
So it means zilch.
But not really.
(Another valentine poem)
She had a message written on her sweatpants rear, and as I learned, her crotch and each nipple as well. I had to circle her to read each tidbit, from right to left nip, front to back. It said "Do" "Not" "Dare" "Read This". A cute joke, clever little girl.
(Don't even know yet)
I liked that, your gift
You gave so freely,
As a shff shff reaches my ears,
As my tongue reaches yours,
As you hold your breath trying to tie it down,
But I want that too,
So to plunderr it I will make you as red as I must.
(An attempt at racey poetry)
"You put me in a box, in that corner of your mind where you keep porn and math formulas." He said.
"That would explain a lot," I said.
"You know, you're jealous." He said, "The only characters used to be yours. The stories used to be yours. Now you're surrounded by writers, you're not special, just another hack."
(I don't even remember writing this. This was me talking to myself I guess. Man I'm mean to myself)
Snoring students wait for bell rings,
Boring speakers singing softly,
Stark lights, friend to blind kids, not the
Darkness, Blackness that envelops
Fertile gardens, gentle lights a
Girdle minds won't live long without.
(A poem where I was trying something weird. Many died)
"What if I told you this wasn't the first time we met. That tomorrow we'll meet again for the first time, then again, and again... until finally we are together forever."
"Then this toast is to a hundred first dates then."
(A weird time travel story. Cute and creepy)
Where men are always bumbling
Where women are always Blonde, always shit, Bombshells, BS.
Where one in seven of the gang is Black,
Where Ohio men come from Cali, Wisconsin gals are from Sea-town
Where big business is our best friend, holding our hand till the end.
Where chemicals are alive, and love you, fight for you.
(A poem so far called Admerica)