thebadpoet

poems

  • SHOPPING

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    Can you write the words
    To say how absurd it is to
    Have anything more materialistically
    Nothing would be worth it
    It’s just buying shit and holding
    Ourselves up with corporeal things
    This really is truly so empty with
    People dying being blown up
    In the streets new shoes
    Just don’t matter to me like another
    Relationship a deeper friendship,
    Any reason to be more than this
    To mean more than this
    That’s what matters to me
    Stuck in this Christmas tree
    Consciousness waiting for a package
    Or decorating our surroundings
    Of course building myself inside the most
    Beautiful prison, buried in concrete
    I could create this to only be the
    Sole magistrate of my own cage
    Self inflicted I would write it all down
    No, no longer in need for anything more
    Than everything we already have
    Start stepping away from acquiring
    New things just so you can make life feel
    Somehow better, make life feel good
    Stop without shopping for the things
    Anything we always hoped it would be
    Something’s trying to suck the tenderness
    Completely out of me, but I found it again
    In the Earth, the roses, the grass, the trees
    And the animals traveling around me
    Watch them teach a stupid human
    Like me, just how life could be…

    © thebadpoet

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  • PEEVISH

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    Too much makeup
    And the current state of
    Affairs that want to
    Kill the peace

    Fuck the system
    You can hear them shouting
    Outside loud and smug

    Of course we want to
    Join in grab a stake in the
    Accusations that are
    Tearing us apart
    As the world does

    Tuck it away
    All the money they will take
    Let it carry you away
    From your passion
    The things that make you happy
    Never babe

    That’s their way of
    Hanging you upside down
    And out to dry

    Riding you hard
    Sent to bury you alive
    Live desperately
    Crave absence

    Only drowning and
    Self suffocating

    And barely breathing
    We turn the corner
    It makes perfect sense
    To hang around

    In case something
    Better happens

    Fighting for what you love
    To stay alive

    ©thebadpoet

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  • HIARETH

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    ,

    Strapped into my history
    Sewn into my flesh
    Grind my bones
    In the dust of our friendship

    I’m creating all of these
    Beautiful romantic things
    For no one but myself
    That was never the plan

    Haunted by the memories
    If the perfect parts of you
    We’re actually real
    Living inside my fantasies
    Some kind of self torture

    What an acrid perfume
    Something of a coarse nature
    Blinding me with backhanded love
    Like some dark magic

    This deep longing or homesickness
    Beyond a place or time that
    No longer exists—or perhaps never did

    Turning on the trafficator
    Left turn, right turn
    Windshield wipers for clarity
    Driving my life highway
    Rather than plotting my death
    Feeling ready to die
    Contemplating suicide
    I’m looking for another way
    To live this life, a new way
    To be alive

    Death of a past
    Birth of a future

    © thebadpoet

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  • GREEDY LAW

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    In an effort to keep the city safe
    __ you say
    What a joke, a hidden motive
    You’re not keeping anyone safe!
    You can use your tactics
    To present fake words that are
    Manipulatively alternative
    To the predatory measures
    You have taken to do as you say
    Protect the public
    __but the truth is
    That the only motivation
    You have orchestrated by these
    Mechanical contraptions is
    Abuse of photographic genius
    __what a lie
    You say this technology is only active
    When the light is red
    A violation sickly vacant
    Of the truth is what your letter
    Writing amounts to
    __false hope
    To make the neighborhood safe
    For no one sitting behind a desk
    Or rather lying in bed can wear a cape
    Might as well be endangering, while a
    Computer types up your report
    Printing your scanned signatures
    As you collect undeserving money
    From a people that are able bodied
    Citizens helping civilians
    Grinding their gears
    Bleeding their bones by showing
    Up to work everyday
    ___you should be
    Ashamed of your preying acts
    Collecting monetary gains with
    No physical effort
    No wheels on the road
    No feet on the pavement is all
    Ridiculously laughable
    Laziness by taking
    My money to the bank you are not
    Making our city a safer place to be
    You are misinformed about what
    True safety means and I will
    Politely follow your rules
    But not quietly in my own forums
    _pay it off!
    Do as I’m told
    Corrupt government
    Inflicting harm without
    Physically altercating
    Mentally financially degrading
    We pay your tickets with no contest
    So that we can go on
    Helping out the same society
    That you have cruelly
    Chosen to milk for all it’s worth

    © thebadpoet

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  • BIRD WALKING

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    The people were toiling
    Over their laptops
    Finding phones
    To fall in love with
    Over flower picking
    In the land of electricity
    And all the while
    The earth was cracking
    Beneath them
    Lips firmly pressed together
    As it was difficult to unleash
    Words that were so-called
    Hard to find out loud
    Even so the right ones texting
    Opinions everywhere
    Like street signs
    Mine crawling out to catch the sun
    Perhaps the strongest lines
    Paragraphs graveling to glisten
    They wouldn’t want to be found
    Broken or incapable of
    Unspoken chirps
    Nor would I
    Like to be discovered
    Pushing up daisies
    Before I surely sorted out
    The meaning of the stars
    Or their delicious conspiracy
    To distract us
    From crying (outside)
    What a gorgeous effect
    Of cascading tears
    Like waterfalls
    Slipping away quickly to the terra
    What greater habits
    Have we to create
    Than a walk around the block
    Crisp breeze with scarlet cardinals
    I’m not sure about the
    Wood frame around the door
    Or the prediction of weather
    But the fresh air has my consent

    © thebadpoet

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  • FOOTWORK

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    I could dip you back
    Completely touching the ground
    If you would fall loosely enough
    In my arms like a wet hot towel
    There’s something to be
    Said for being a good dancer
    A favorite beverage ‘Down the hatch!’
    Like a tasty drink rousing
    Hot in the belly
    Swinging casting shadows in the grass
    Hollow echos from the past
    To die some from this
    Conundrum of conformity
    A little sacrifice to save lives
    I never thought people could
    Give that up you know dancing
    Disdainfully and ravenously
    So no care for really
    Helping others either
    Or actually anyone
    But themselves and then
    Plenty well you know
    Fell into what seemed like
    A long passage on skipping
    From a favorite book
    Just casually went on
    To discover their own
    Important meanings
    Meandering through a
    Headspace of back alleys
    With the winter sun
    Burning at their backs
    Still in our equal plight for
    Pleasures we are all fondling the
    Eternal mysteries
    Once conceived
    By the worn-down loafers
    Of a more colorful time and place
    Simply painted on rocks
    Left to ponder

    © thebadpoet

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  • SEEKING

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    Calling something bad
    Isn’t going to make it good
    Just like writing the word
    Meaningful down and expecting
    It to naturally
    Somehow have meaning
    On its own
    Could be enough
    You make it bad
    You make it good
    You give words the power
    To have meaning
    How can dreaming of
    Being remarkable be more
    Than just that
    A dream
    It’s hard to find a sense of
    What life is possible to be
    If not surrounded by
    Voices that encourage
    Us to stretch
    Controversy mixed with
    Antidisestablishmentarianism
    Is there complacency in
    Contemporary clashing
    Or have we lost our will
    To catch passion

    © thebadpoet

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  • CADRE

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    A house of cards
    Waiting to fall
    Tempted to break
    Deturpate
    A vile place to
    Care for humanities
    And our rights
    By overshooting
    Toreador
    To the soufflé
    A dirty kitchen
    All my eggs in one basket
    I insisted on biscuits
    Peanut butter and jelly
    When will the truth
    Finally come out
    We all bleed the same
    Can we love from over there
    Do we have to hurt
    Devastate one another
    Just to hold one another again
    Maybe imperfectly so

    © thebadpoet

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  • CITY MOON

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    A lost chance to be
    Something more interesting
    A time gone now that
    The music has changed
    The spirits of the people
    Have left the parks
    Where have they scattered?
    We’ve yet to know
    I like to imagine
    That the trees have
    Absorbed them all
    Where the sidewalks sparkle
    And the cement bends
    There are souls living there
    Memories of the magic
    Excitement for life
    To be thought of as living
    On in the heartbeat
    Of us all and in the
    Drumming pulse
    Of the street
    A rattle and a bell
    A ringing story for
    An opposite conclusion
    For death I escape
    Into a departure for
    My love of the moon
    Sixty years ago

    © thebadpoet

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