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
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
5 June 2008 • 6:31 am 1
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
23 May 2008 • 6:15 am 0
I am wearing shades
because I am afraid
my eyes might exist
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, literature, poem, poetry, seb
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
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
11 April 2008 • 1:30 pm 0
Ten years ago
you left us
under a cloudy sky
and the cold wind
was warmer than our bones
Well, today
the sky is pretty much
the same
except for the clouds
which are a little bit
whiter
but I guess
that’s just a trick
my memory
is playing on me
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, birthday poems, 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:
quiƩn 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
20 March 2008 • 6:11 pm 0
Never saw
so much dog shit
in my life
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad haiku, bad poetry, seb
14 March 2008 • 10:13 am 1
rain rain rain
then
sun sun sun
then
poem poem poem
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, poem, poetry, seb
11 March 2008 • 7:36 am 1
sometimes
life becomes
a puzzle
but you know
that all the
colored
cardboard
pieces
you hold in your hand
will never be enough
to finish it
Yet
bravely
you set them down
hoping
you can guess
the final image
anyway
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad poetry, poem, poetry, seb
8 March 2008 • 3:54 pm 0
Eros is sore
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, breakfast poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems, the queen of england, writing
5 March 2008 • 6:51 am 3
Delicate
isn’t my name
and yet I am moved
by the imbecile
gently led by his father
down the street
while screaming songs
at the top of his head
I am moved
by a white cloud
standing still
over the city
like a gentle threat
I am moved
by your breath
gently lifting the sheets
deep in the night
when I can’t sleep
Yes delicate things
move me deeply
and confirm
the rage hidden
at the core of my words
The rage of impotence,
hope and rebellion
- but not despair
Despair, you see,
is too delicate
for me
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, breakfast poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems, the queen of england
1 March 2008 • 9:59 am 0
but we sure wish there was
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, birthday poems, breakfast poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems
26 February 2008 • 11:18 am 0
My ear is shot
Haven’t slept in two days
and here I am writing
this miserable poem
Is it friendship pushing me
or just poetry’s bad junk
shaking me up and down
and never letting me be?
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems, writing
23 February 2008 • 7:11 am 1
no candles
but fireworks
no explosions
but roman candles
we have written pomes
for one good year now
we are very tired
but our mouths are still
full of spit, tongue, stones
and words
no firecrackers
but live ammo
no funeral pyres
but a feather
of the Phoenix
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems, the queen of england, writing
21 February 2008 • 6:33 am 2
poems
are
free
like a bank robbery
a good fist fight
or a major break up
I said
poems
are
free
I didn’t say
they were nice
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, birthday poems, literature, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems, the queen of england, writing
19 February 2008 • 11:56 am 1
The white veil of morning
creeps around the house
The birds are black notes
and their song hang frozen
in mid-air
We drink coffee in the kitchen
and I want to tell you something
but your words erase mine
and I forget what I wanted to say
and there is no way you can help me
and we laugh it off and another mouth
replaces my mouth with different words
forming behind the seemingly same teeth
although they are actually a few seconds
older
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems, the queen of england, writing
15 February 2008 • 4:42 pm 1
My children play
with wooden blocks
red blue yellow
and green
They build towers
and smash them
laughing
like typical
humans
A reassuring thought
somehow
The blocks
await in the sunlight
waiting to be
piled up
and thrown down again
like typical
humans
Not a reassuring thought
somehow
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, literature, overweight champions, seb