Friday, November 25, 2011

Christmas Anew

Christmas
Should not be for
Gifts
Or anything of material value,
Especially money.

Christmas
Should be about
Forgiving.

Mistakes
Should be overlooked,
Grudges
Should be buried in the snow,
Hate
For our enemies and ourselves
Should be burned in the fireplace.

Our flaws
Should become
Our strengths,
Our lies Should be revealed,
The truth unleashed
For all to view
Who we truly are.

Everything
Should be turned upside down
And inside out.

Our thoughts
Should be natural.
If we have lost
A loved one,
Then we should mourn them,
Tears should drop
From our hearts
Down to their graves.

If someone is treating you
Like shit,
Don't hesitate,
Give them
A mountain of shit
Back.

No questions asked.

Do what comes natural,
Do what you feel,
Don’t believe
In the Christmas spirit,
Believe In yourself
And the loved ones that surround you.

If you have no presents,
Realize that
We have each other.
If you have no one,
Realize you have
Your dreams, your life.

Forget what you want,
Avoid stores
Like you would A tornado of fire and razor blades,
Avoid what Wal-Mart
Wants you to believe.

Start Christmas anew.

One that is all your own.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Apocalyptic Preparations

I am waiting
For the end.

Every moment
Is spent
Preparing myself
For the apocalypse.

I might
Have to murder
At any second
Just for
Another second
Of survival.

Morals and religion
Be gone.

I may
Have to leave
My family behind,
Unburied and lost,
Just to survive
On my own.

So long
To all of you.

As heartless and absurd
As it sounds
I am ready
To sacrifice,
I am ready
For the unthinkable.

I am even hoping
Our annihilation
Is much worse
Than predicted.

I want to see
Skinned bodies
Lying in green rivers.

I want to smell
The feces
Of desperate cannibals.

I want to feel
Chaos
All around
And in between
Miles and miles
Of vast emptiness.

Bleak and forgotten.

I want to hunt, fight,
And crawl
My way through a miserable
Existence.

I want this
Now.

I am tired of waiting,
Preparing.

I want to kill
The weak,
To steal
From children,
To protect
What I truly love and need,
To feel
Every comfort in life
Vanish.

I am ready.

I doubt you are.

Monday, November 14, 2011

A Small Favor

My grandpa told me
About him.

Mike
Was his name.
He was my grandma’s brother,
He died young, Buzzed,
Outside of a bar,
Face, hands, and stomach
Smashed into the streets.

My grandpa and Mike
And the rest of the brothers
Would drink and drink
And talk shit,
Especially about the newest addition to the family.

Mike would say,
“I don’t care
What you guys say,
Rudy is alright with me
And I like him.”

He really appreciated
Someone standing up for him
And that Is the only thing
I know about Mike.

It makes me wonder
What will be
My only memory…

Me
Puking in my hands
And wiping it off on my pants
Like it’s rain? Me
Talking about
Weird, sexual fantasies
Involving chopping off tits
And using them As dildoes?
Maybe,
Just maybe
It will be
The dreams I tell.

I have no say
In the matter.

My only memory is yours,
May you keep it alive.
It’s the only favor I can ask of
You.