30 November 2007 • 10:24 am
Fuck work
fuck school
fuck power
fuck god
fuck you
fuck me
fuck it
let’s dance
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england, writing
29 November 2007 • 8:13 am
This time of year
the daylight fades
so fast
And cool air nips
at my skin
As I pine for
the long warm nights
of summer
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
28 November 2007 • 1:43 pm
The things you do
need no explanation
because words
stop where the action
begins
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad haiku, bad poetry
27 November 2007 • 7:16 am
light
air
tree
bird
put them together
and tell me what you heard
for I cannot see
or hear
what I do not know
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
26 November 2007 • 4:53 pm
If poetry wasn’t real
wouldn’t we all be insane?
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems
23 November 2007 • 8:13 am
Restless and motionless
frozen in malaise
Waiting for the next thing
not so much wasting time
as simply watching it go by
Motivation is a word
a grouping of letters
I know how to pronounce
the familiarity ends there
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
22 November 2007 • 2:52 pm
Too much to drink last night
Trying to collect thoughts
and finally letting them
collect themselves
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england, writing
21 November 2007 • 10:47 am
Skipping thoughts
like stones
across my mind
None making
much sense
or connecting
with another
They just fly by
like birds
headed south
for the winter
Some more colorful
than others
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
20 November 2007 • 8:15 am
The stars indicate no direction
and the roadsigns are all
rusty and torn
and I don’t even know
if I’m anywhere on the map
crumpled in the back pocket
of your jeans
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england, writing
19 November 2007 • 6:53 am
I was there
now I’m here
for how long
I don’t know
Ask me when
I’ve gone and
I’ll tell you
how long
I stayed
But who knows
where I’ll be
by then
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
16 November 2007 • 8:11 am
Poetry is a mind-altering drug
Do not hesitate to overdose
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england
15 November 2007 • 7:38 am
It all started
last month
when I …
No wait
it goes back
before that
three years ago
when she …
Actually it was
when he said …
but that would have
been ten years
or more now
So it must have been
as far back as before all
that and further still
when I was just a child
Yes, of course
it all began at
the beginning
which would be
the day before
I was born
Or even before
that when my father …
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
14 November 2007 • 7:26 am
But I have a job
I am a poet
It’s a very important job
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england
13 November 2007 • 5:50 am
Though there is no heaven
I have known angels
And though there is no hell
I have wrestled demons
Yet all that I know,
and all that I am
or have been
means nothing
In the face
of being
simply a man
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
12 November 2007 • 1:23 pm
A cold morning
I am on the first floor
looking outside
The golden light of the sun
warms absolutely nothing
Beauty at its best
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england, writing
9 November 2007 • 6:38 am
And god is not listening
to you tonight
Tear-stained cheeks
knees bruised from rocking
on the hardwood floor
The words mouthed
over and over again
But god is not listening
to you tonight
He is indifferent
as the dead you
pray for
Deaf as my grandmother
So you would do
well to stand up,
wash your face
and stop asking
for absolution
from someone else
Because god is not listening
to you tonight
But don’t take it
too hard
or make it into
something else
to be miserable
about
For he is not listening
to anyone …
tonight
or any other
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
8 November 2007 • 7:18 am
Days go by like birthday candles
but the cake never goes stale
a cheap metaphor for happiness
I guess but words and images
do betray us sometimes
and maybe, maybe
that’s why we love them
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england, writing
7 November 2007 • 1:19 pm
And I remember nights out
dancing well into the
next morning
A different time
another life
Waiting for the
right song to bring
freedom and elation
in motion
Now I dance
when no one
is looking
to songs
in my head
from those
days gone by
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
6 November 2007 • 9:06 am
Hell
is being stuck
in a bar
with a bad singer
singing good poetry
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england, writing
5 November 2007 • 4:36 am
Tea and a cigar
on a lazy Sunday
in the city
People go by
kids and dogs
in tow
As the sun sets
and the air turns
cooler
They walk a little
faster
arms folded for
warmth
Days like this
everything is poetry
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
2 November 2007 • 5:59 pm
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, the queen of england, writing
1 November 2007 • 7:05 am
The girls walk by
high-heeled shoes
and tight jeans
cigarettes and perfume
Pseudo bad-boys drive
around on expensive
motorcycles that rumble
like thunder
Everyone pretends to
be somebody here
even the movie stars
And the waitresses
in miniskirts
counting tips
in their heads,
worry about their boyfriend’s
drug habit
2am and the boys
from the band
stumble out
of their van
order coffee and smoke cigarettes
watching the legs
of the waitress
who just wants
to go home
Everyone is from
somewhere else
in this city that’s really
a suburb
this place of dreams
that can quickly turn
into a nightmare
And once you wake
it’s best to slink on home
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing