In which Jeffrey, our hero, goes on far longer than people usually let them , continue past the point where cognitive brains cease functioning for a ways, then sits down and make jokes about your mom. Really, if anybody has made it this far you should probably just read the poem and move on

It is 6:55 in the morning, I am fucking hammered, and all's right in my world.

I've been on a writing tear since October. I've been writing all kinds of ridiculous nonsense. I am trying to remember if I wrote one about how Kurt Cobain had sexual fantasies labout Kurt Vonnegut bcuZ he had a grandfather fetish. 

 Or maybe the world doesn't actually really need that. Or it doesn't deserve it. Whatever

Christ, I am really unhinged right now. Actually, that gets us back to this poem. for a while I've been using heavy amounts of intoxicating substances consistently and around the clock.the longest I'll go without consuming something is maybe two or three hours when is about as long as I ever pass out. I've been at this for months.

I'm not proud. Or maybe I am. I don't know. What I can't tell you is that very likely I will have to come down eventually. I spend entirely too much time thinking about this, I wish I could stop.

.

I hope I've learned my lesson about fucking around with sobriety. It's one of the biggest red flags someone can have. It declares incontrovertibly and very loudly that a person is very much Not Fucking Ok.

Now then. Enough of my bullshit. here's a dumb poem I think it's about drugs or something related. Almost all of them are these days. I should do another post about that soon.

Too many typos? fuck it. Embrace entropy. You are almost certainly a shambling wreck of a human being who is desperately trying to appear like they have their shit together but it's s not working and you look miserable trying to do that. 

You should still know your limits ,kids.

don't get high because you love life

 love life bcuz you get high 

“I hope someone is laughing” 

(ha)

darling, i don't like saying this 

but, probably, i should have taken less 

angels are comeing in my brain right now

but i'll be there before morning 

after a person gets high for the first time

it takes time to understand

then more to accept 

they may have invited some real bad shit in

most people who notice a rapist in the dark 

will think twice

before spreading their legs in the same place again 

not us tho 

my friends and i 

we will double down on our bullshit 

we treat the poison 

and the cure 

as the same thing 

mix it into vodka, drink deep

when we drank from the well 

we saw god 

so mnext we tried to fuck the well

it made sense at the time

and, of course, the well fucked us 

right back, and worse

there's a moral here, kids 

if you come to, and 

you're naked

in downtown portland 

with a police dog's dick in your ass

you should not be too surprised 

(no ha)

when I'm taking a lot 

i try to anticipate the problems 

i will very soon create for myself 

I own my own shit 

i throw jokes around 

until I can't distinguish what's sarcasm 

what's serious 

why everyone seems on edge and irritated 

a day will come

my jokes will no longer make me smile 

there will be nothing left 

but consequences 

i will embrace them

I hope then i will finally be able to forgive myself 

when finally i fall

all the way down 

for the very last time 

i hope that at least 

someone is laughing 

but if someone is still laughing 

it certainly ain't me

"everything is peaceful love"

It's been 2 years since I've posted anything here, what the fuck.

The first thing I recently found in a folder of unfinished stuff . I looked at it and I immediately knew how to finish it, which was cool. I believe I started thinking about this poem in late '21 but the word file is dated January '22 so who knows. The title is a reference to a Leonard Cohen song but it could also be a reference to a John Cale song.

“joan of arc #2”

i wouldn't set myself on fire for money

but i could do it 

As a form of entertainment 

when onlookers will appear

plz comfort the women

they may be overwhelmed by grief

i wil burn away into pain, then light

i wanted to do this alive

I tried to show the world how bright I could burn, but

 it responded by trying to hurt me

can't wait for another road, wait around 

for a better revolution

i can set myself on fire, and 

take my chances in the next life

†*********

I started working on this second piece last year on my phone. I had to do it intermittently over the course of a few months. I think I'm satisfied with it now. 

“a nice syringe*

(1)

the only thing for me to do 

is to be sad and desperate 

i've been waiting forever 

for things that will never come

so i cling to anything

that there is to cling to

amphetamines under my fingernails 

alcohol working through my guts

if i give you the drugs 

will you let me sleep

for a little while longer ?

talk to me about the war 

it's now or never 

i may be going away

for forever 

i will not fight for love again 

i will prefer to die in vain

did i not tell you i was sleeping 

oh, i also asked you to talk to me 

(2)

where do we expect the dead to go ?

it's not as if we don't suffer like them

we all stumble about 

and hurt constantly 

it's easy to die alone, what's harder 

is to stay vigilant 

to live for something other than ourselves

if we revel in death

what else do we have left?

it's unfortunate

your obsession 

with an interventionist god 

but i can't find fault 

in your need to feel something 

everyday we find 

new things to be afraid of 

as if we don't 

already have enough 

(3)

take a nice syringe 

fill it with something blasphemous 

put it in my neck 

i will see God or 

i will see the devil 

but at least 

i will see something else

i must sleep

before I wake up 

i want to forget the war 

for a while longer 

to go to a place 

where nothing exists 

a place where I don't miss her

every single second

it is always her face 

the first thing that comes to me in dreams  

we never 

had each other the way we should have

that was s a dream 

as well 

More blasphemy

 I don't know how the fuck this poem came about but I think there's a sequel in one of my notebooks. I don't know if that'll ever see the light of day.

"god listens to his therapist"

god feels sorry for himself

he created pain and sin

and joy and love to counteract them

but humans seem to prefer

 the first two  best

"you fucks!

i gave you a beautiful world

and you created credit card debt!" 

god bellows at the humans

they respond:

"you fucked off to a cloud 

and left us to fend for ourselves, in bodies

that self destruct 

even if we don't abuse them"

god was muttering to himself 

"i can't

i can't just drown them all again"

he pushed his fists

together, which drew sparks

"maybe this one time

my therapist is right 

i will go to them"

so god showed  his face 

and a few christians rejoiced

but most of them

were sad like the atheists

then for a bit of time 

things were good

until god got bored 

left the angels in charge 

and fucked off back to his cloud

then the humans got bored

and decided to fuck the angels 

"a spark is aching for the light return, return, return tonight"

 

I have a habit (probably a bad one) of talking shit about gods ( I am a polytheist). I believe very strongly that ultimately we are all going to be in the same place and that everything will be on a level playing field. 

The god I like best is  Krishna, who is basically a reincarnation of Brahman, who is that from which all life and energy flow  from, I try to be respectful

 I am a relentless shit talker. why shouldn't I talk shit about something that isn't technically better than me?

The other god I listen to is Ganesh, the elephant head god, and I'm not above muttering the occasional "dude, what the fuck" 

"i will be in (taking shit up with god)"

i exist 

only as much as i have to

if i go quiet

if you don't see me for a while

maybe, the problem

that of existence

maybe i'm taking it up with god

what good is a deity 

if you can't curse at it?

so cute, it wants respect

bitch, earn it 

besides i curse at everything

talk to people i love

i swear at them the worst

besides, how much damage

can a god really do?

if you're good, you're golden

my aim is 

to be so kind

even the  gods can't fuck with me 

the eternal laws 

are immutable

one of them is love 

another is kindness

i long for the sanctity 

of oblivion and peace

but if i am to be in

i will be in

may my life 

be a light unto others 

while i am waiting

to take this shit up with god

****""

This is so new it still has the bits of flesh it took from me clinging to it.

"suffering for the light"

what is this? light?

or is it just the bullshit we burn

 when we're trying to keep ourselves interested?

i could learn to lie and 

be worshiped by whatever I wish

but i want only to be a lowercase god who is quiet

and alone

and in the dark

i would suffer anything

 to keep my people from suffering

 but maybe watching loved one suffer is how we suffer best

i think it's supposed to build character

or something

a stick is more miraculous

than a stupid dumbass carrot

we have to get to god somehow getting comfortable can be painful

It takes more than just drugs

to kill a belligerent ego

ballad of a thin penis and other horror stories

 Here are some recentish poems.

The title of the first is a reference to the title of a bob Dylan song, but also to a line from deuce Bigalow: male gigolo. 

 

"ballad of a thin penis"

if i were a cake

i would be burnt

if i were god

i would apologize

if i were the sun

i would blow this whole damn thing

but i'm jeffrey

so i just make terrible jokes

two about my ex wife

one about your mom

i brag about my penis

and  how very thin it is

i can cover up

with ill humour

and other such bullshit

but that wont heal me

when i am hurting

i can flood my blood 

with hazardous chemicals anytime

but the drugs become a chore

when i don't go in happy 

once more, my penis 

is incredibly short and thin

if i were better equipped

do i think i could please a woman?

of course not, don't be silly

but it's nice to think

that sometime i could

"dicks out (for harambe)"

you know, if  someones says:

"be a man!"

you can tell them to fuck off

and be a woman instead

a soul has no gender

why should a body?

dude, if you just want to see my junk

dick's out, anytime, anywhere

just as long as i won't be arrested

a person is wearing a cock ring 

under a thong, nothing else to it

& people stop to sing: 

"how incredibly, incredibly heroic!"

but suddenly, I'm weird 

when i put on a dress and

i refuse to shave and 

i yell "smash the fucking patriarchy?!'

i don't care how you feel about rejection

when all of it

is ours to reject

your labels, your roles, all of us 

locked in your cages

but oh! 

it's just fear and shame

keeping us in

did you know?

you can just walk out

****

one more. yes, this one has dicks in it, too.

i, american #6

(1)

& bang

(a bomb? just a gun?)

& bang

(no sound, no cheer)

& bang

(just the collective fear)

someone trying not to choke 

tried to make a joke:

"war tamarraw? that'll starve ya

war today? all'll be paid

(2)

no one talked

when i was a kid

not about god 

or politics

there were newspapers 

and television news

which is how i learned

everyone cared more abou the president's penisthan they did the president himself

maybe we're looking at this wrong 

maybe it was her idea 

what if instead of a favor or a job

she just wanted a powerful man's cock in her mouth?

can we stop slut shaming sluts?

if a woman likes dick, let her suck dick

we should thank and salute them

for all they do

for this country's mental health

(3)

let it be known

i will carry america

as i experienced her

into the next life

be that punishment

or reward

along 

with all the others, and 

forever 

along with all

& everything else

all of us

we

are

forever

(4)

i can look at something ill

and offer up comfort 

but i can't make anything better

i can't undo mistakes

be they god or man's 

so i send up a prayer 

and try to smile

god, however

is tired of our shit

and a smile is threatening

when your belly is empty

and your bed is dirt

look at us, america

we're  no fucking better 

than slovenly  cave folk

i've watched you, i've seen

you take the kind

and the gentle

and the good

and whittle them down to spit

rebuilding them into sickness

with old fashioned fevers

(5)

i will not stand

I will not stand for this land

no one is equal

until all are equal

nothing will be good

until people learn how to be kind

Listen to the goddamned Mountain Goats

 Here is a new poem about terrible people being terrible. The first line is a riff on the first line from Rilo  Kiley's "Love and War (11/11/46)":  "all is fair in love and we're in love".

The poem as a whole seems to be a result of how I spend way too much time listening to the music of the Mountain Goats, as I have been doing since 2002. You would think I would find a new favorite band already, but nope. My love for tMG is eternal and unceasing.

"not divorced blues"

all is fair on drugs, and we're on drugs

we like to tell ourselves

that we're only harming each other

you think, you always think you can

you think you can hide vodka from me 

 but i am supernatural

your best bet is to always drink quickly

may there be consequences, and may they be hilarious

so, you fucked the neighbor for two cigarettes

fine, i just banged his wife out of boredom

i miss when you had interesting hobbies

sometimes you used to even piss me off

if you won't give me a divorce, then give me a distraction

set a few buildings on fire

or spark a moderate uprising

against the local city government

the whole city gov is bullshit

the cops, the mayor

and every other goddamn city employee

they're all on bribes or dope or both

i encourage reckless drug abuse

but no one has ever been honest for money

legalize drunk driving again

we want to kill with our cars, as our ancestors did

we'll never be done with this town

we can't even end our bastard failure of a marriage

we did some awful shit last week

we should be arrested any minute now 

we could use some time in prison

they will force our separation, there will be no other possible choice

"

"and i know its got nothing to do with 'deserves it' "

  Here is a poem, more of my drug addled bullshit. Here's the thing. The only way I can justify using destructive drugs to myself is if I work.

So I write. Sometimes I get something good, sometimes lots of good. Most often its mediocre nonsense and fragments that are at best promising.

But if I get high, I write. I don't give any special attention to whatever I'm on. I maintain that I can do what I do in any state of mind.

Anyhow. Here's a poem with weird structure. It's about a girl.

"the queen of heartbreak"

the queen of heartbreak don't mean it

some things are just hard to avoid

while she could fall in love with anyone

only questionable people fall for her

"do i seem arbitrary"?

just i can't handle boredom

i don't like standing still

or popular opinions

or common choices

(2)

I'm not trying to be difficult

i just turned out that way

i grew up confused

then one day voices started talking to me

so i started listening

they don't advise or threaten 

mostly they just make me laugh

most guys have a bullshit sense of humor

they think i'm laughing at them 

my tits can only do so much

i make men feel small

or i freak them out in other ways

i'm too much for anyone

and i'm suspicious of everyone 

(3)

the queen of heartbreak is

a nervous february suffering

through a presumptive spring

she's the whole world trying to happen

before anything is ready

and i'm never ready

if i can't be prepared at all times

why should i be at any time?

the best things in life take you by surprise

true shock is rare 

even heartbreak, you see her coming

if i delight in how she dances 

i accept the inevitable cost

i do so with knowledge

it might finish me off this time

(4)

i should be quiet 

nah, fuck it 

smash the fuckin patriarchy 

i wish more women were loud 

I am a menace 

i know when i am going to hurt him 

then i promise myself i won't

i can't handle familiarity

i wish i would stay by myself

shared history, quickly, a common language 

i remind myself that he could hurt me

but it's hard to see it 

before they drop it in

do i need  the comfort of emotion & threat?

 if i stay at home i will stay high

i will talk to myself and the voices 

but if I go out 

i will inflict myself