on reading Alice..

All those times my English teacher
Critiqued my poetry,
Yet could never see,
That all along,
I was never writing poems.
I was righting wrongs.
Composing songs.
Putting things inside my mind
Back where they belonged.
So if there’s nothing in my ‘poetry’,
That you can see..
There’s no standard meter,
Find in each it’s melody.

Note: Almost every poem posted so far contains a line ‘heavily inspired’ by a line or few words from a song.

This ‘line’ is the foundation for the rest of the poem, and usually the poems ‘meter’ is written to time / match the song the founding line is from.

Bonus points if you see them. If you reread the poem to fit the song, it will click.

just rude..

Oh hey, don’t mind me, I’m ‘just rude’.
My crippling depression, ‘just a mood’.
Hypomanic self-destruction is my food.
Socially withdrawn? ‘Bad attitude’.
Well if I told you to ‘get fucked’,
Would that be crude?
?
Then let’s get crude,
Let’s get crude.

Religiosity..Pass.

As children we were taught
That god in heaven thought
We all should drown.

Everyone should drown?
Well listen to that sound:
That’s me drowning now.

Later they would tell
Of heaven and of hell.
How to find The Right Gate.

Well they’re far too late,
Maybe you can’t tell
But I already found hell.
I didn’t need to wait.

As for gods’ only son
Dying for our sinning..
I may not have been sinning,
But baby, this is me beginning.