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Neat! NO ICE!!!

Neat! NO ICE!!!

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Hey! Pour me another my good man

this time make sure that it’s neat,

the first was watered down by ice

I love to taste the fermented wheat.

If you didn’t know what I meant,

then ask, or look it up on your phone,

I don’t need this bullshit aggravation

I would’ve stayed, and drank at home!

This is why I chose to not drink anymore,

because this was exactly how I would act,

I would find trouble in strangest of places,

my emotions had never really stayed intact.

Before I could comprehend the situation

I’d be laughing as I was brought to my knees,

I had the cops called for terroristic threats,

waiting for half price appetizers at an Applebees.

The worst part of all these stupid stories

is that, they are all embarrassingly true,

years had passed before I threw in the towel,

after failing, while searching, for what I should do.

I don’t really like to say that I have quit,

I just call it, a “necessary lifestyle change”.

I am not gonna lie, a lot of the time it was fun,

so by no means do I feel, I was ever shortchanged.

 
5 Comments

Posted by on April 26, 2018 in poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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Too little, two face

Too little, two face

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You must lie in the bed, that you have made?

Maybe that’s why I always slept on the couch.

Made it easier to go, as I had never stayed,

ask any of my Ex’s and they’ll bitterly vouch.

There was never a need, to even kick off my boots,

before the sun could rise, I was out the back door.

Never gave enough time to plant my own roots,

treated love as a dried up flower, I never cared for.

The more they would hold on, to a precious moment,

the harder I would work, to erase it completely.

Beating you down like an unworthy opponent,

after tears run dry, you’ll wish you didn’t meet me.

As cliche’ as it is, the saying goes, “too little, too late”

It doesn’t even matter that I am different now.

It just wasn’t meant to be, thank goodness for fate,

in a way, I helped you, if you can believe that somehow.

As we all take the bad, which outweighs the good,

no matter how good the good was, it is completely forgotten.

I can repaint the trash, even convert to the priesthood,

in the end, the truth is, this boy was downright rotten.

 
19 Comments

Posted by on April 26, 2018 in love, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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Hey Doc, Help?

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One med

Two med

Red med

Blue med

Now I need

another

just to help me

get to bed.

“Doc, I feel like someone else”

“Well then take one of these.

Just make sure to leave your co-pay

with the receptionist, before you leave.”

Up all night, wondering what to say

I cannot get to sleep and I’m tired all day.

One med

Two med

Red med

Blue med

Now I need

another

just to help me

get to bed.

“Hey Doc! I can’t sleep!”

“Well than take one of these.

Remember to stop by the front desk

so I can make payroll Please”

Have to get up, and go to work today,

couldn’t fall sleep if I stayed home anyway.

One med

Two med

Red med

Blue med

Now I need

another

just to help me

get to bed.

“Yo DOC!!!

F@#K YOU bro!”

 
 

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easier than words

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Brush to the oil paint,

color to the canvas

gracefully and magically

making emptiness vanish.

The visions in the mind

manufacturing begins,

regurgitation of essence

spewing out from within.

The undoubted magic

materializes a bit later,

transformation of imagination

like an artistic translator.

The passion and ability

to make brilliance emerge,

from the mind to the hand

I am a conduit for the surge.

To try an explain what I see

I wouldn’t have the first clue,

It’s easier to piece it together

and then just show it to you.

 

 

 

 

 
18 Comments

Posted by on April 1, 2018 in art, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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“Signs point to Yes!”

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Well I struck out big time

called a swing and a miss,

I read that play all wrong,

she didn’t want that kiss.

Asked God to give me a sign

some advice on this courtship,

he dropped the damn ball again

That’s it! He’s getting a pink slip.

Like, for real dude? Come on.

It was an easy fifty-fifty call,

I wouldn’t have pegged ya for

a believer in a Magic Eight-ball!

I know you think I’m being silly

’cause she doesn’t want to be mine,

but I wasted our entire friendship

not to mention both of our time.

She is the one who is missing out,

I’m the best guy she has ever known,

yet I’m alone sitting home blaming God,

for the chance that I have single-handedly blown.

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 

 
2 Comments

Posted by on April 1, 2018 in poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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Satan called me spineless

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Hypnotized by the alluring midnight black flowing hair

mimicking the curtains blowing in the ocean’s breath,

I’ve never had such a beautiful image of Satan

as I do right now, as I compose the symphony of my death.

I’m not someone who fancies the ideologies of satanism,

though he is who lurks when I am looking for a friend,

why wouldn’t you want to talk to someone with expertise

in constructing a scene as melodramatic as your end?

It’s not like I have a poor sense of direction or imagination,

it’s just that I get so fixated on the methods that I do NOT like,

for instance, stoning or drowning in a pool filled with sharks,

not fond of guns, asphyxiation or stabbing with a spike.

I tend to obsess over the things that I don’t want to happen

instead of making happen the dreams that I wish,

I’d just hate to have to come to grips with growing soft inside

I wouldn’t want to be remembered as a spineless jellyfish.

 

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 
 

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if any worsening of symptoms

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The bright white round one is to lift me up,

plus an off-white oblong one to help calm me down.

It may seem a little illogical and unreasonable,

also, I can’t promise you, they’ll keep away the frown.

You may say that it seems rather counterintuitive

like taking out a loan to pay off an equal debt,

or purchasing a million dollars in lottery tickets to,

win a million dollars? seemingly the worlds stupidest bet.

But the thing is, I have been feeling much better

since I have been traveling along this new path,

It beats the hell out of the alternative side of me

when the anxiety and depression are on a warpath.

I don’t like being torn down, limb by limb like a tree

that’s vulnerable to a logger wielding his chainsaw,

or being trapped by my dark isolating depression

like a frozen duck stuck in the ice just waiting to thaw.

I’ve tried to do this the “natural way” but to no avail

as the craziness inside increased and grew much stronger,

So I may not be completely against feeling a bit dazed

if it means that I won’t feel that profound pain any longer.

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 
 

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