silence is violence
on center stage, forgive me
right now I need to

turn the page, the rage
gets old but the memories
remain, go down that

narrow road or all
shall visit it again, tragic trash
true shit in the veins

speaking of booze where's mr bukowski, I did
like him quite a bit

polish, not irish
stubborn, charming, violent, ah
our time is short here

at least it is written
his words are still on page
distilled whisky rage

the stance of the streets
is a mask to survive, to stand
in the boonies, less so

but the blood is still
hidden, beneathe paved stones, dumpsters
and in the earth

war never ending
the games of power played to
a true damnation

the group think gathers
still though, this is why some have
to pull a Gene J.

and write on a big
brown paper bag so that
Sartre can bitch on

I'm just some retard
with a keyboard, an ego
and some words, I'm zed...

nothing....what am i
to you?

comicat gonna blow
Mox out of his shoes sans clues??
that just sounds WRONG

mox, watch me blow him
out of his shoes without clues...
haiku gangsta rap

a wise woman says
the conformist is boring
lacks my interest

then there is the man
he who stands in the fire
that I'de want to lay

the better lover
Mr. boring know it all
or passion of life..

boring does it like
a dead squid on Friday night
satisfies himself

high iq, low e--
q, to overcompensate
I guess I just spew

if the haiku are
bad then, is it possible
that they'd not be

perfect, flowing, zen
but hackneyed, contrived, raw
and sometimes, just bad

like ed wood, jr
trying to re-write merchant
of venice, with flying saucers

lush failed where com-
cat succeeded, a kind word
versus, a huff and

puff...so go blow your
own house down on your own
time, I wonder what

Basho would think of
egotistical, angry
haiku gangsta rap?

part of the mind set
you see at work here is the
video game junkie

keep inserting quarters
keep shooting relentless
till you kill the boss

it doesn't really stop
this is the nature of an addict
someone lost, dead

why do I feel like
I'm scolding a child at the
moment, psychopath

dad, giving mixed
signals, unwilling to look
within, I've no sympathy

I'm a Vogon

when people do some
thing not according to plans
first anger and then who

knows, maybe erm, oh
possibly, perhaps, maybe, if
innovation, hmm?

what do people write
haiku for, to show like the
Pharisees of old

how "holy" they are, how
"great" they are? who cares, I do
agree, what's your diary

like, who the fuck are
you deep down outside this nest
of digital thoughts

I am no one, I
am nowhere, I am breaking
Satanic laws, my job

the punch line...where folks
go to get drunk to listen
to bad comedy

the heckler's function
to take the fame of the comic
level the field

the wolf wants to leave
but pushed in a corner he
bites the hands of those

who try to hold him
critique begets critique, what
if I say you're right?

fuck, that would be a
change wouldn't it, I've tried, the
bully settles for

the power of the
bloody nose and crying children
on the playground steps

daddy doesn't have
time to correct billy
makes him feel like a

thing, they find his corpse
hanging dead in his room for
it wasn't words that killed

him, but lack of words
lack of connection, lack of
humanity, thougts?

we all want to be
accepted in places, and when
you're a jet, you're a

jet all the way, the
old west side story, I wan-
na be part of the

gang...I suppose, and
if it takes intellects years
to catch up, so be it

Just read distant posts
Buy a fucking diary Mox
A tad wearisome

collect as you may
hundreds of hackneyed words
that is not haiku

must i repeat this?
haiku, whether bad or shite
are single stanza

trousers 'round ankles
fluid orifice awaits
cast another load

BAD SQL-KU

SELECT Name, Number
FROM Black_Book WHERE Hair IS 'Red'
AND Eyes EQUAL 'Green'


SELECT Name, Number
FROM Black_Book WHERE Hair IS 'Blond'
ORDER BY Cup_Size


SELECT Name, Number
FROM Black_Book WHERE Hot IS TRUE
AND Cup_Size IS 'C'

flu is far from the
man in the iron mask but
I've caged myself up

microscopic bugs
galore, let the sun come out
dry these devils out

go dog go... outside
get fresh air and excerside
"do you like my hat?"

I think what I was
really trying to say is that
to think too much is

kind of like saying
"you breathe too much"--the brain is
made for use you know

this body needs exercise

those who don't think do
not deserve to breathe, eat, breed
or even take a dump

damn i'm a failure
i try not to think too much
but i don't succeed

this cat will gladly
catch rodents and fish rather
than balancing gears

(hope you all are clicking on the name links)

joints more symbolic
than literal; whatever
vices (passions) let off steam

Charter boat fishing
a great whole day to relax
for that I can't wait

Mickey is a con
don't let his cuteness fool ya
natural born theif

going to DisneyWorld
this is so not looking fun
research book and work

one guy who went there
wore a pedometer there
daily 13 miles...

I'm making a plan
drawing intinerary
damn this book is big

Tigger better be
on good behavior that day
or I'll kick HIS ass..

Medical plan won't
cover enemas. They slap
the shit outta me.

I don't understand
why life throws these things at us
but life is life, so

much based on pride and
lessons ignored, let it be
too easy to say...

I don't blame u one bit
not one bit for being and
feeling as u do

i had a brother
who shot himself through the heart
merciful they say

a tough life for him
ah a BIG understatement
was totally fucked

to this very day
mom brags about the pyschic
that said she'd lose one

if I were to calm
down and commence actually
giving nature a

head's up then I would
know what I'm missing and take
in some good fresh air

like closing your eyes
everything goes away gone
and silence is sweet

a moment of wish
the other side of never
taste is a tease

those that have been there
gifted or cursed the question
I know all too well

that is so true man
when I need to learn to con
trol myself and mine

mox needs to smoke j's
and forget about things that
he cannot control

the assembly lines
of digital commerce and
war, microcosm

of the real world, the
virtual photon kudzu
coiling up the human

viens for circuits, chips
for cells, gynoid and android
ibm made them

there is a person
on the other end of each
machine, industry

of data, mined, processed
from raw to something machine
ground, industrial

simple cause
no one gives a shit about me here
why should I give a shit
about any of you?

if any of you had a miscarriage, were harmed, got married, had a baby,
won the lottery, your father died,

why the fuck would I care
this is just the internet
out there is more important

than in here...for
you and i, for all of us
this is why I want

to die, this place, literally
once I leave, you may seek
revenge but, a part of

my growth is letting this
place and you people and
this internet go

according to the Satanic
you got your own problems
revel in them

most people who feel
like committing suicide
don't see any other way

out, they're not crazy
they just can't take the ridicule anymore
the rejection ends

with a bullet in the head

if the words are in
writing that is one thing to
inspire but, look at mein

kamph....it wasn't even
very good writing, but that led
to six million deaths alone

among the Chosen People

so, can u help me
or, is it beyond you?

I think you misunderstand

I want to be at peace...alive,
and happy, but not falsely
so, accepting flaws

the dimestore dummy
although perfect in shape lacks
birthmarks, moles, a shape
duramold man, will
not rot, once junked, no bones, no
flaws, no inner soul

I would rather be
this misunderstood thing
you mock as never changing

than a dimestore manakin