13 February 2009 • 1:00 pm 0
billy blew
his brains out
and no one noticed
billy blew
his brains out
and no one cared
billy blew
his brains out
and you ask
who the hell
is billy anyway?
well, what if
billy
were you
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, snuff poems, writing , questions, self-referential
14 January 2009 • 5:00 pm 0
The sunlight blinds
but you look anyway
reflecting
off the tabletops
creating an illusion
the gentlest
of winter afternoons
the violent dying light
pierces your eye
as a reminder
of summer
yet no matter
how hard you stare
you cannot make
the season change
nor the sun
shine less
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, d. james, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, writing , illusion, light, summer, sun, winter
30 December 2008 • 6:48 am 0
The writer
that doesn’t write
The poet
that doesn’t poe
The savior
that doesn’t save
On a road
that goes nowhere
leads to nothing
and ends when it’s over
[queue music]
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, writing , nonsense, questions, riddle, searching
23 December 2008 • 10:56 am 0
there are
two kinds
of drivel
a poet
writes
the kind
that gets
published
and the kind
that doesn’t
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, writing , drivel, published
23 October 2008 • 4:50 pm 0
black
of night
yellow
of heart
red
of soul
white
of the coming dawn
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing , colors, dawn, heart, night, soul
18 October 2008 • 1:42 am 0
yellow toothed dog
stares through
blood-shot eyes
in my nightmare
drooling
I know he
wants me
for his last meal
I’ve run from him
for hours now
maybe even days
in the end
he’ll have his way
because that dog
keeps me honest
because that dog
is me
his hot breath
rank with death
the only escape
is to wake
but either I can’t
or I already have
I’ll know in a minute
as he approaches
and I am too weak
to move
One way or the other
it ends here
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, snuff poems, writing , dog, hell
15 October 2008 • 5:41 pm 0
I saw you standing
on the edge of a shadow
in the space where
sunlight and darkness meet
in the endless battle
of night and day
waiting
for something
in yourself
to appear
but the struggle
was too great
and you remain
undecided
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing , battle, darkness, day, night, sunlight, waiting
13 October 2008 • 6:06 pm 0
What is the sound
of nothing falling
in the city?
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, writing , city, falling
10 October 2008 • 4:00 am 0
The half-moon laughs
as we tear up the road
screaming at the night
With nothing but chrome
and black gloss
we ride ’til dawn
Our piece of heaven
forged in hell
hanging with the
fallen angels
And when the sun rises
we’ll put another night
to rest
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, snuff poems, writing , angels, dawn, heaven, hell, moon, motorcycle, night, riding
12 June 2008 • 11:02 am 0
The heart is pink
lips are blue
revolutions are lost
red is a liar
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, seb, writing
7 June 2008 • 9:45 am 0
If writing poetry
is like pissing against the wind
remember that the wind
often changes direction
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, writing
5 June 2008 • 6:31 am 1
3 June 2008 • 9:07 am 1
if my words were colored
like heads and then hands
then sometimes they could be
red machine or red lips
but mostly red silence
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, writing
29 May 2008 • 8:26 am 2
What we could say
is hidden
behind our words
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, seb, writing
14 May 2008 • 7:19 am 0
Talk talk talk …
words without meaning
phrases that go nowhere
What does any
of this accomplish?
I’d discuss it
but that only
leads us back
to the beginning
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing , silence, words
13 May 2008 • 12:38 pm 0
sun goes down moon comes up
I hold one in each hand
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, seb
9 May 2008 • 12:30 pm 0
the apple-tree is blossoming
the songs of the birds again have meaning
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, seb, writing
7 May 2008 • 2:38 pm 0
I am writing a poem in my garden
the sun at the periphery of my thoughts
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, seb, writing
1 May 2008 • 9:55 am 0
When things fall
objects happen
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, seb
29 April 2008 • 12:24 pm 0
rain
depression
poetry
more rain
Filed under: bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poetry, seb
28 April 2008 • 4:39 am 0
Everything thickens
feels sluggish
No interest in food
or motion
Scents not
smelled before
emanate from somewhere
behind something in the kitchen
It’s as if the sun
never goes down
never goes down
never goes down
Still it’s better
than being cold
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
25 April 2008 • 12:04 pm 1
No
matter
where
you
are
Poetry
is
always
at
the
center
of
the
horizon
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, writing
23 April 2008 • 11:22 am 0
Their feet shake the ground
and the teeth in our skulls
Their gigantic arms
send dried leaves
whirling around us
Their laughter
booms enigmatic
like deep thunder
Who are they?
Who were they?
Nobody knows
and nobody
really cares
because the first
buds are blooming
and birds are a-singing
and the overweight champions
just become mountains
on the horizon line
very blue
very far away
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb
17 April 2008 • 6:10 am 0
A government ruled
by well-meaning bourgeois
is still a government
and it is still
ruled
by
bourgeois
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad poetry, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb
7 April 2008 • 4:55 pm 0
What I remember
are images
The words are gone
and live a life of their own
They never call me nor write
but the images
are still with me
and sometimes
I do wish
they would pay rent
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, breakfast poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, writing
3 April 2008 • 11:04 am 0
Caught at the dusty crossroads
of violence and justice – never
quite a man nor a boy
a question simply lingers:
quién es?
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, seb
1 April 2008 • 12:25 pm 0
A good …… is a dead …..
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad poetry, birthday poems, poem, poetry, seb, writing
28 March 2008 • 10:45 am 0
Love is
its own
metaphor
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad poetry, poetry, seb
26 March 2008 • 4:01 pm 1
Structures
Elements
Shadows
Your naked back
My heart like a keyhole
Wood
Steel
Wool
Footsteps on concrete
Love like a half-lifted curtain
Ich liebe dich
A three-step danse
Red lipstick
Black shoes
Your hand in mine
A cold sun
Sharp walls
Spring is coming
Ah ah
The purpose of art?
Usefulness
my dear
usefulness
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, seb
24 March 2008 • 11:12 am 0
White roofs
blue sky
the children play
in the bedroom
my fingers
silently
write this poem:
“it is cold outside
it is colder
inside my mouth”
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, seb
