incarcerated
lonely but earning money
the cycle repeats

it just seems that things
happen for a reason and
I don't know what they

are until all is
said and done

spit it out baby
pickthank aint from hominy
it's heartburn harvest

I need to get off
my self and realize others feel
these feelings as well

I am truly sorry
I have a temper and it
is a weakness

try some sedation
instead of cogitation
less aggravation

cause this is thriller'
silence falls upon the land
and I am sorry

why is it that which
is truly christian needs to be
set aside

in order for people
to have to figure it out
for themselves

fuck this place
people don't give a shit about me
they only care about themselves

well, I do think of
suicide a lot and the response
is either "go ahead, ha ha ha"

or sympathy, and it's
yet, another attempt to
get rid of these voices

if I wasn't an addict to this
internet and other people's feelings I wouldn't be here
I might do something with my life, even if it means flipping burgers for a meagre paycheck\

I'd rather be a toothless idiot
than a poet here

who are you, better
than i am? who are you?
really? who challenges

your own social patterns
what is Canada? What does
Zabadooey believe

do I talk too much
or is that your opinion?
what is a solution

lawsuit, jail time? my murder?
over words on a website?\
condecension? what the
heck does this shit solve?

what do I want? what do YOU want? that's the basic question, artistic freedom, a quiet space to reflect on and repeat beliefs that you take for granted, unchallenged?

I don't know if this place
really is that important
to be honest, do I have
to play emotional blackmail?

I had no idea poems would
be used to express anger, and the cold desire of want

needs, it's not the best
I could be, just a reaction
that's all it is, self analytical
reaction, inviting the same

"you talk too much" blah blah blah, i am the Great this
I am better than you

and the Tower of Babel was
cast down, metaphor or reality
by a bolt of lightning

human being have limits
I'm proof of that :)

i satire myself

if we were here to
see each other face to face
what would we see there

pride? a desire
to prove who is right, to be
"the voice" who says it

as it is, resent
this hound, silence him or cast
him on, ban him, we

are social animals
and society is a game
and that games has rules

I would rather be a loser
for to me the game is a damnable lie leading
to eternal damnation

I am bewildered
which is more rediculous
the "pompous rich socialist"

role, the run away psychopathic born again christian or

the "ah ha ha ha, I'm a cheese sandwich" person.

if you want me to go
away, stop playing all
these fucking games

and say "go away"
RC Sproul, Christian author
love, laughs a lot

thinks he's funny, Calvinist
now when I'm gone a nuisance
will be gone, but, maybe, oh, 7, 9 weeks later, gee, oh

who knows
who gives a shit
i know you guys don't
burn in hell? who knows :)

the highest of folks
is the Servant of God
See you in heaven boys

if I don't go to
hell first, I suspected
then again these
guys are "liberals"

so they play games

sometimes we need
the spurs to compete to
win the trophy at

the end of the day
the game is with competition
to deny it is death

you talk way too much
servant boy shut up before
I replace your ass

there's a strong urge
to desire to leave this world
so I can sit down

and write poems in peace
I don't mean suicide, i mean
a time without competing

voices living as billboards
to their own murderous egos
the wanna be idi amin's of

the world, at once pathetic
but also, dangerous, cellars
full of human skins

of those "who let them"
do it... God has stronger
plans for this place,

and those who usurp that
plan, including myself,
eventually face Judgement

what is the Christian
way, what is the way of God
without the sad politics

of "Bush" hijacking it, my own
unconcious mockery of it, what is the way of God

to everyone here?

Bordello escaped
Trousers about the ankles
A bovine pursuit

remnant du cheap wine
non vintage, a collapsed mime
the first of twelve steps

finally curtain
a commencement de la fin
in fine close limit

ghost wits rack no thought
phantasy better muse dream
now that I reflect

"bad haiku" will not
or ever die, for it's something
far more important

than my petty little life

ignominious
a flippin' ignoramus
who? iglesias

Dumb haiku lives on
In the stupid hearts and minds
Of teh interwebs

tea for two a dance
to be shared with a great friend
soft shoe in my cup

there is a formal
nature to the "teas," the brush
the inked letters, that

in a world of winds
earthquakes, tsunamis, so on
there is just tea, for

when your mad christian
finally goes away or dies, I am
nothing, there is just, tea

time marches on

one of the key problems of
my aesthetic is that it gets defensive and genuinely angry and takes things literally personally and when I saw I want to hurt the person, I should think to do something far more effective, the simple playground rule of "ignore" because a bully pushes buttons to get results: a reaction.

One of my less healthy but stubborn beliefs is in an evangelical Christian view of God as forgiving and social flaws as being literal spirits and not just human foiables but personalities without bodies that can misdirect people into conflict with one another over trivialities like oh, bulletin board trolling or how long a poem is.

I don't think I'll learn till
I am not here to speak my mind

there is a common
desire in art to seem "cool" which
is a false zen nature

all unattached but still
without soul and without God
this is how I understand "modern cool" as a kind of Pharisee state of mind for the modern age

Coping strategy
Life can be so hard sometimes
But we do our best

so, the other day
dropped my watch in the toilet..
what a shitty time!!!

your personal growth
would not include credit for
having a hard on

the king hung the court
jester in a fit of rage and
a week later

missed his court jester
no joy in the kingdom
no bells, silent streets

serenity and sometimes
the real mind is not social thing
but a solitary one

there is no one to play
court jester or art critic
only silence and the

peace of only one voice
which is what zen really
is, it just, is

suicide eh? :)

what would u get from
a person who hungers for
a kind word for once

what if you had a
good thing to say to someone, rather

than be a sophisticated
Zabadooey in a way, and
mock in that hateful

Godless, scholarly form
of dry, dead, uncreative
literary critics? which

is why modern writers
generally are like
a dusty living dead

they have nothing good to say period

:(

A stupid mistake
Planned not planed Oh well its done
No retreat from there

Dead leaves lay scattered
Icy lace pathway through Woods
Drawn I must follow
*
Where are we going?
My trust freely given but
Where are you leading?
*
So many questions
Center myself, quiet my mind
Accept ebb and flow
*
Life has it planed out
What part I play is unknown
But play it I must

Northern frozen wind
Blasts down on us full of hate
Repetitive tripe

"hell is other people"
really, we get in each
others lives, faces

desires, goals, thoughts, schemes
tell each other what we/you/I feel
about the world

politics, weather
sexuality, sports, media
and proclaim crap

to what is real
only to us

well I can say this
soap operas are good to
clean with humor pun

laura sells furniture
with william riker and so
enterprise, GH

we had a class of
creative writers who had
nothing good to say

about each other
at least in here the humor
although unchristian

and "worldly" and a
bit overcompetitive
(the mind's ideas are

not a pie which one
runs out of see...), it's better
for critics and readers

we all are to a degree
so some of us give up
and write doggerrel...

dog...do...ahem to
ourselves, ode to what
asses could have been kissed

to gain praise of this
world

Big Bloody Panda
Picking Franklin From His Teeth
Fraidy Cat is Gone

Wait!! There Are Scabs here
And Pellet Shot Mangy Fur
It Was Not Our Cat!!!

Slinking Out Cross-Eyed
With Some Poo On His Leg Fur
It's Our Little Prince!

Now We Will Have Hugs
And Cuddle Under Covers
Family Is Whole

he said be still you
the blast made my ears bleed so
damn you..made me flinch

the days of our lives
and the world begins to turn
I'm young and restless


his past issue billed
so doggeral the puzzle
not paying troll's toll

rc sproul on the proul...
or prowl, hear him howl when we
do all things yet, we

do not have love, and
threaten with sticks of violence
or become famous

for the lot of man's
glory, for the love of laurels
we but for a

stage, the flowers rot
the world winds down, no more spin
and, duh, love endures....

I read self help books
thinking it will teach me how
to kindly deal with these

what is zab, a child?
a bully, a heckler? rename all
and any of these, response

compare zab to hitler
most people whether isolated
socially confused sorts

like myself, or even
those who get too caught up
in society might have

some empathy, some see
this as a weakness, seig heil
and so build gas chambers

chew rugs, live in bunkers
hang paper from the wall
get mocked by Charlie Chaplin

where is the Principle Centered Life when I am
nothing but a goal for

someone who wants to
deal with my own fuck ups
why bother living morally

when all I get is "blah blah blah"
he's funny...I shoot myself
in real life

I go away, for good
"ha ha ha, he shot himself"
like a thousand times before

like a thousand times before
becomes reality unless some
better reality comes along

I will make the better reality
the gun forever lying, never
used,
never bought
lugers dad dug special

truth is never cast your pearls before swine
animals only recognized instinct
"get me my beer and ham sammichs" fucking pig
first you tear our pearls

which I have finallty come to appreciate, I've lost a bit of pork fat of spirit

but then you turn and rend us

hell is real...when you get
there, mock me all you want with blah blah blah

you will not have time
to repent when you arrive

the office bully
hangs out, mocking whomever
staying in one spot

until fired, you
see them plot their little games
and only by blowing

the ambition reversed
a mockery of real
action and doing...

they sit at home and
we all have a bit of this
in us, where's my

Bible when I need it

sometimes I'de like to
come off as a total bitch
and be really mean

oh no, shes too nice
cute sweet gullible naive
well ..I pee on u

now I feel better
zabadooey get me porn
and shut the fuck up


now boy enough..shoo
I shant be bothered with you
your likes mean nothing

between the whistles
and the crips and the giving up
just fucking shoot me

so many unanswered
questions shrugged off with a laugh
a sigh and a scowl

frustrated at the
bars of the corner dead towns
of aged and stuck and

chewing, spitting, teeth
encrusted for a moments
peace with red man

I am living here
alone, at home with urges
to lash out at this

world in some way to
make them see that I need out
and I want to live

but as I am i
want to die instead of taking
care of mindless old

aging, senile, dated
antique people who need to
die in order for

that person to get a life
and they are so old
only death sets those

around them free