Posts Tagged ‘J.J. Campbell’


from my wretched eyes

 

a quick

glance

from my

wretched

eyes

 

an angelic

face that

seems to

be defying

age and

time

 

it reminds

me what

a wise old

man told

me when

i was very

young

 

not

everyone

prays to

the same

god

 

 

still in her church clothes

 

i saw this black

woman in the

grocery store

today

 

probably still

in her church

clothes

 

but those long

legs and that ass

bouncing with

each step

 

i could definitely

see her causing

someone to say

the words god

damn at some

point in the

service

 

the depraved

part of my

brain wanted

to go sniff her

panties while

she was over

looking at the

tomatoes

 

but the clever

fuck in me was

busy over at

the bananas

 

hoping to find

one long enough

 

 


————————————————————————————————————gently

 

i’m watching a

spider weave a

web in the

corner of my

room

 

pretty impressed

with the size of

it

 

but does that say

more about the

spider or my

apathy

 

these are things

one thinks about

when you’re trying

to not think about

gently placing

a gun in your

mouth and seeking

a better tomorrow

————————————————————————————————————the middle of the day

 

i often find myself

in the middle of the

day thinking about

you smothering my

face with your big

black ass

 

i’m just not sure the

best way to go to

make this fantasy

a reality

 

should i send you an

email that says, hey,

when you can find

some time away

from your family,

can you come over

and sit on my face

 

is this an occasion

that calls for roses

and a box of

chocolates

 

is it a situation i

propose over a

dinner i’m paying

for

 

i know

 

drinks

 

alcohol makes

anything possible

 

i better bring the

credit cards

 

————————————————————————————————————disposable joy

 

a bleary eyed insanity

on a muggy night

 

the famous are dropping

like flies and i am happy

 

happy for their misery

 

happy for the dismay

and chaos left behind

 

disposable joy disguised

as a legacy

 

somehow the myths

became truths and

accepted as common

knowledge

 

there is a price for perfection

 

pay it at those fading

pearly gates

 

do not pass go

 

do not count the falling stars

 

do not make me wallow in

your endless streams of

bullshit any longer than the

next commercial break

 

 


that little prick writer

 

the daughter of the

woman that molested

me is getting married

today

 

despite my best efforts

to avoid this mind fuck

that little prick writer

inside of me can’t help

himself when it comes

to moments like these

 

yet he’s finding it quite

hard to scribble down

his genius

(his words not mine)

through the agony

and tears of just how

unfair life can be at

times

 

getting frustrated he

tosses the pen across

the room looking for

a cigarette

 

completely forgetting

that a decade has passed

since those days on the

porch

 

but the both of us

understand there is

a bottle or two with

our names on it

 

—————————————————————————————

a faint notion of sweetness

 

when i close my

eyes i imagine

you taste like

cotton candy

that’s gone

bad

 

there’s still a

faint notion of

sweetness

 

but the rest of

it simply chokes

the good out

 

not that i ever

complain

 

even in my

dreams

 

i understand

how lucky i am

to be getting any

at all

 

————————————————————————————————

fireworks in the rain

 

listening to some

asshole down the

road trying to light

fireworks in the rain

 

i secretly wish one

would blow off his

hand so i would get

some enjoyment

from his frustration

 

just another holiday

where i’m supposed

to buy something

 

and when i see those

flocks standing around

to see the lights in the

sky

 

i can’t help but laugh

and think i’m the only

fucker around that

understands what

independence means

 

————————————————————————————————-

slinking off into the shadows

 

i was never able

to take a bite out

of your neon soul

 

one of those great

regrets i’ll have

until the day i die

 

and the problem

with slinking off

into the shadows

are the demons

constantly make

you live that failure

over and over again

 

it would drive a

better man to

suicide

 

we’re long past

that stage now

 

a random bullet in

the classic case of

wrong place wrong

time seems much

more appropriate

now

 

————————————————————————————————————

a criminal on the run

 

i try to remain patient

anytime i’m in public

 

when the old women

force a smile upon

their face

 

as i imagine to them

i’m a criminal on the

run or someone who

is getting ready to

strike again

 

i usually just keep

my head down and

get whatever i came

to do done as quick

as possible

 

though i do

understand their

concerns when

they see the fat guy

with the weird facial

hair loading case

after case of beer

in a grocery cart

with a bad wheel

 

all while humming

psycho killer a little

louder than any human

can say is comfortable

 

 


lost and found

 

an old man got

arrested the other

day

 

a ring he claimed

was lost was found

in the panties of a

3 year old little girl

 

i was hoping he was

going to tell the cops

it was a magic trick

gone awry

 

but he confessed to

some touching down

there

 

which made me wonder

how many other times

did he play lost and

found with the kids

—————————————————————————————————–

waitress

 

all the curves

where i like

them

 

i can’t help but

think about you

sitting on my

face within

thirty seconds

of meeting you

 

it tends to make

hello a little odd

 

while pretending

i’m listening

and getting lost

in your eyes

 

i’m actually

picturing

sliding your

panties to the

side and working

my tongue like a

version of me

twenty years

younger

 

yes, i’ll have

another drink

 

it’s not often

i eat chicken

wings with a

boner

—————————————————————————————————-

countless years of just taking it

 

broken

forgotten and

left for dead

 

the real reason

i hate myself

is i allowed

the pain to

become

constant

 

it’s incredibly

hard to stand

up for oneself

after countless

years of just

taking it

 

wanting change

is a myth

 

we want others

to change

 

leave my utopia

as it is

 

violence, murder

manipulation

and deceit

 

you want change

 

sometimes you

have to dance with

the devil to get it

 

and i don’t mind

playing with evil

under a full moon

 

all my other choices

got me here

————————————————————————————————–

the silence you desperately need

 

harrowing nightmares

 

fucked up secrets

that no child should

have to bear for

any length of time

 

let alone an entire life

 

you can smell the

guilt in the air

 

hiding behind cheap

perfume and whatever

douchebag body spray

is hot at the moment

 

try to find an awkward

pause where you can

fake a laugh

 

or a cry

 

or whatever emotion

you need to drive

the demons away

 

seek out the silence

you desperately need

 

grab your favorite book

and pretend that reading

in the dark gives you

special powers that the

rest of the world should

be very worried about

——————————————————————————————————-

flawed

 

a hearty chuckle when

you think back to the

innocence of your youth

 

how it was robbed from

you in your grandmother’s

bathroom by a curious

cousin

 

you can’t help but think

she wasn’t fully aware

 

but you’re more

comfortable being

a victim than an

understanding

adult

 

rational thought never

found a home in your

abused mind

 

and there is never

enough alcohol when

you really need to kill

the pain

 

yet you know at the

heart of the matter

 

you wouldn’t change

a thing

 

this is who you are

 

change is for those who

are not comfortable being

flawed