Dirty 4: Happy New Year!

man trauma.

He couldn’t believe his luck

When she walked through the door

She was gorgeous and she’d eyed him

She was coming in for more

So now he’s in the bathroom

She’s clamoring to get in

He tries, he cries, but no surprise

He can’t hold his erection

Thus he curses that last unhazy moment

When ‘why not’ had sealed his fate

That he’d have any remote chance

Of consummating with his date

God damn this New Years Eve, he cried

God damn that one last beer

But it was only his own fault

That he won’t get laid this year.

Love 2

Breaking Up Sucks

"So long" said the Alligator… "I just like it saltier…"

she shrugged with an apologetic grin and walked away. 

The crocodile screamed behind her with an awkward intensity—

"SEE YOU LATER!!!"  

He’d been heart broken and had clung to the old adage in an attempt to gain closure with style. 

He waited and waited…

but she never responded…

"in a while…"

In my theorhetical picture book you'd only see the croc watching the gator walk away. makes my little heart ache just thinkin' about it...

rock n' roll. absolutely amazing. who knew!?!? WATCH THIS!!!

Neighbors

Brian. Or Learning to Live in New York City.

There is a scary scary man,

He lives just below my room,

I’m pretty confident his apartment

Is actually a tomb

I would not even scream if I saw someone that looked real dead

Or if he dropped his trash and I saw a detached arm or leg or head.

Everything about this guy

Is creepy to the max

From his neo nazi hair cut

To his collection of candle wax

Something is so off

Something is so pristinely skewed

So I choose to stay away from this one

No nice girl intervention for this dude.

 won't you be my neighbor!?!?!

cause i fucking hate mine.

i love mr. rogers even though i do remember that fundamentally i thought his show was really really boring and i just watched it in the hopes that one day i'd finally see inside that freaking castle for real.

AA: Angry Artist: on subjectivity...

Editorial

Why is there so much crap that is communally prized?

Why do they hear just one rave and decide to make it super sized?

Oh it’s just so annoying the choice of the elite

Isn’t always the smartest, truest or complete.

It’s not so comprehensive or even happy making.

It’s maybe even stupid like half fucking baking.

Oh it fucking gets my goat how just one opinion

Can blow up into public knowledge, like fucking fact or fiction

Van Gogh: the most famously now known but then completely ignored.

here are some others:

 Dickinson, El Greco,  Mendel,  Wegener, Galileo,  Darger, Thoreau, Poe, Kafka, 

food for thought.

alternate titles:

"concern about our culture's ethos and the credence we give to whomever has the microphone."

"your review is stupid"

"don't close that show, it's awesome!"

Dirty 3

No pg way to put it:

Writer's Block

Totally alone right now

and totally unsdressed

I want to get fucked write now

I want to feel a mess.

I want to let it go tonight,

and actually feel the prick

of the satisfaction guarantor;

 the perfect fucking dick.

I’m speaking metaphorically

Of course I’m not that crass

I want cerebral stimulation

I want cultured brillant ass.

You're Awesome. You. just. are.

There’s a sole red flower in the middle of the bouquet,

It’s really the only flower I think I like today,

For it’s standing tall among all those different scouring breeds.

It’s standing long and tall, despite the possibility of weeds.

For it knows that it’s a beauty, it doesn’t need to brag,

It knows that it’s its very job to stand long and tall, not sag!

This is my version of:

"Be that thou knowst thou art,

And then thou art 

as great as that thou fearst."

-w.s.

If I knew you were comin...

I’d like to create a product. It’s called the wake and bake,

For all who rise at dawn and feel the need for cake.

For all who prefer the smell of sugar wafting through the air

To the insidious constant ick of an alarm’s distasteful blare.

And of course you’d pop right out of bed, you wouldn’t toss or turn,

Cause if you didn’t wake right up, you’d know that cake would burn!

to be accompanied by the protagonist being a sudden millionaire entrepreneur and the line of thousands waiting to buy the illustrious wake n' bake at his lemonade stand style shop.  next pic would be of how the protagonist saved the world cause everyone was now happy.

HOLY TOLEDO....

holy toledo, he's wearing a speedo

When he asked me to come with those big green eyes,

those challenging lips, those thick strong thighs,

I was so thrilled, so cool calm and collected...

And then he grinned: white teeth(!), i was utterly infected.

I immediately, despite my feminist theory,

dreamt of our wedding, our childrens' inquery

of how did we meet, at a bar? in a class?

And i'd say, "no perfect kids, no, we met at mass."

And they'd skip off to school, kept, fed, just in time,

and we'd go have sex, life'd be just sublime.

He's spiritual and smart, he's warm and he's funny

He's totally into me AND he has money!

He was he ideal candidate, had checks down my list.

I couldn't wait to see how he kissed!

So I pre-gamed a lot, wanted him to remember my name.

He was totally perfect so I couldn't be lame!

So i got all sauced up and we met at the bar,

he was there with drinks waiting, OH he was so up to par!

But as the night went on i was a bit dismayed, it felt a bit dull,

Not that I didn't like him, but there was just...NO pull.

I didn't want to jump him, i didn't want to make out

So i was confused.... but drunk... and thus didn't pout.

I did it anyway, it was fun, whatever...

Maybe i was in a funk, yes a funk, that's clever.

He's awesome, he's hot shit, shit, he went to Yale!

This will be a success, yes, this could not fail!

So we kept dating and I started to see,

that he was rather, well...metro...no, ok, he was just plain girly.

He wasn't Gay...but he wasn't a guy.

To me he was great, but just no so...fly(?)

"Just stick in there." i thought to myself,

"He's freaking awesome, he's good for your health!"

And Yesterday we arrived at the shore,

his hot body? the sun? Who'd ask for more?

I figured with waves and the sand, I'll finally be

As attracted to him as he was to me!

He took of his shirt, he had rippling abs,

I thought, "this is starting off well," (I was keeping tabs.)

But then again, yay for me! I was being fair!

Yum! He poured water on his perfect blond hair!

He was in these cool board shorts// WHAT!?!?...VELCRO TEAR?

OH MY GOD (thunder clap) NO NO DON'T GO BARE!

My jawed dropped as he laid down confidently next to me,

I just couldn't go on, i wanted to flee.

But here's the kicker, he wasn't nude, no no, it was worse,

He might as well have been carrying a purse.

I looked to the sea, sorta sad, but chuckled in acceptance.

This was it, i'd have to end it, no more interference.

No more fakin' it, I'd have to say no...

Poor guy had no chance once I saw that speedo.

It's Just a No.

Usually.

Pretty Much Always.

Love 1

What Clarence wrote for his Babysitter, Heather, on her Birthday…

She is the reason that I can vow…

She’s the reason I have conviction.

She’s the reason I can love with an open heart,

She’s the reason I play with my diction.

She’s the reason I love to laugh

She’s the reason I love T.V..

She knows just how to not break the rules

so life can still feel free!

She urged me forever to truth and hope,

To work from the core of my spirit.

She opened my eyes and let me be me

She’d taught me to live, not to fear it.

And the selfish part somehow sounds askew,

but the story is not whole without telling you:

So today is her day, her forever homage

Today is the day the gods blessed us

Today is the day the gods started that plan

That to be really happy, first, they’d test us.

But along the way they’d send us a guide,

A glowing inspiring soul,

Who’d show you the way through the highest of tide

Who’d help you learn how to be whole.

And if you’re lucky you’ll meet yours soon,

Hell maybe you already passed your test

But if I might say, in the most earnest way

Mines the best, mines the best, mines the best!

(with picture of little nerdy boy writing with math/english books on table and staring at sexy babysitter…biiiiig boobs and glasses....maybe the little boy is shakespeare, change the name to will....or horace if i go ancient roman... and he's like, nine.  yeah yeah, then the tv part doesn't really work. who cares. i like it. they're all aliens anyway.  I am completely sober right now. i am. really. she doth protest too much...)

oh good god look what i found. eeeek.  do you feel weird, i do.  here, this made me feel better:

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees!!!

Truth is, I wrote this in complete and utter honesty for my most special of specials.  See if you can read it without thinking of how i corrupted it, sans title, sans pics, and then it's just exactly what i want to say to the woman I'm most grateful to have in my life...

 Happy Birthday EUUUU! 

CATS! not a musical

Cat Play!

Or

The unfortunate but rational mind of an abusive husband to be.

Hello little kitty. 

I’m glad you’re made of foam.

Cause then I can poke you 

and you’ll still call my house home.

You’ll never know any better 

cause you’re a thing more than a cat.

But sometimes I get scared 

thinking in and around that. 

For see one day if I 

get a cat that’s real and live,

Will I wish that I could poke it? 

Cause it sure wouldn’t stay alive.

Self Help 2?

if you cannot feel you cannot do

if you cannot see you can’t get through

if you cannot swim you cannot dive

if you cannot breath you cannot thrive

if you cannot be right here and now

if you scoff or sneer or raise a brow

you may just find you miss the gist

you may just see the other girl get kissed

you may just find yourself on the side

you may just find you hate your own pride

you may just find you’re lost and confused

you may just find you’re hurt and you’re bruised

but if you get involved, like really engrossed in those simple essentials

you’ll find you’ll never have thought you’d have had so much potential

you’ll soar to the other ends of the earth

satisfied and simultaneously filled with great mirth

don’t be afraid to shake up the routine

don’t be afraid to go back to fourteen

don’t be afraid, it’s not starting anew

it’s reminding yourself what’s unequivecably true

and thus the fundamentals re ingrained and re found

you’ll know that to jump, you’ll first need the ground.

Individualism

For the nirvana era of teenage angsty anti conformists:  

Schmuel (the jewish stewie)

Oh vey oh vey, said shmuel, I need to go to school.

I want to read and write and appreciate what’s trite.

I want to learn what everybody already knows.

I want to learn so I can start to step on peoples toes.

I want to learn so I can tell them I know that they are wrong.

With some simple syllogism I know I can sway the throng!

I want to know the basics, the standards, and the bars

From which I can retaliate, be an alternative super star!

Cause everyone believes some plain and simple fate,

But if it’s common knowledge I start to feel the hate,

That it’s just a way to think that’s become far too diverse.

Of course you cannot fight it unless you learn it first!

And thus I shall infiltrate this educational sprawl…

And then I saw a boy when I was walking down the hall.

He was so totally cool with his binder at his side.

He had a red baseball cap and I liked his lofty stride.

I later learned his name was Peter so I sat by him in class

And then all of a sudden I felt something totally crass.

That EVERYONE liked peter, he was the nicest smoothest guy

And if I liked him too than who the hell was I?

Maybe what all these others know is not so bad,

Maybe it’s a lot like I would find if rebels weren’t such a fad.

BOO!

Happy Halloween!

Semi-automatic, or rifle that’s the question.

Which gun would he want if I were gonna bash his head in?

I would never shoot him, it would be too easy.

I would never shoot him, my hands would get too greasy.

My aim would be real bad, my heart would start to scream

That I’d completely lost my mind, that my brain was now whipped cream.

So I’d wham him with the gun until he was good and dead

And I’d gaze upon my masterpiece of his erupted pumpkin head.

Cause really what the difference? Really, what’s the need,

For his head to stay around? I want a pumpkin seed.

dirty 2: um...romantic?

be careful., I think, don’t breath just now, cause I might control your skin.

We’ve got that silly more than magnetism that pulls you from within.

I think I breathed you in long before I saw your face,

And this sensational sensation redefined my sense of grace.

I want to see right through you, then show you where I hid my key.

But the silence grows between us and I feel the need to flee.

I imagine all the outcomes, the future all or nothing...

and neither are that splendid cause they’re not right now, they’re coming.

And it’s a crescendo of ridiculous that I’d have this kind of luck,

that I’ve finally found my soulmate on a stupid random midnight fuck.

extraordinary happy-fying juxtaposition. get's a 'yay!' on the dani meter. (when one sees something and its very sight elicits a joyful uninhibited immediate 'yay!') pic has nothing to do with poem above other than it's totally me.  shoulda put it with the ice cream poem. doh.

PS: possible titles: 

"oops," 

"best. orgasm. ever.,"

"when you know, you know," 

"lust rules," 

"Um, so...I really think i want your number...and maybe for you to meet my mom."

ah me...

la loca perfecta

OH I HATE THAT I’M CRAZY, and love that I’m insane…

It seems to give me satisfaction. It’s my intrinsic ball and chain.

It’s what people love me for and why they think I’m dumb.

It’s why those who get to know me can’t fathom I succomb...

To my feeble insecurities, to my petty neurotic brain,

To the societal banalities, that mediocrity refrain.

But this is who I am, as incongruent as it may seem:

I’m perceptive and brainy or an idiot with a dream.

It’s absurd I suppose that I’ve always been at both extremes.

I’ve never made things simple, I like to play on all the teams.

So take a deep breath. Remind yourself to chuckle.

Take of your shoes. Undo your belt buckle.

Embrace that sorta loco part of you, it’s the tequila to your lime!

Cause all the other stuff we ALL feel all the time.

Hold on to whatever makes you different, whatever make you you.

Cause it’s all about perception folks, that’s my first big poetic clueJ

 me

ps: alternate titles!!!

the peanut butter and cream cheese conundrum?/

Internal dissonance?/

playing kickball in black patent leather mary janes/

bag o nuts with fruit AND chocolate./

please love me even though i'm a self aware wacko...i promise it will be mutually fortuitous.

Reach for the Stars!

The over-ambitious mind of the Entomologist: 

What the heck is wrong with me that I feel the need to write this?

Said the documentarian of bugs as he prepared his thesis.

Is it really going to help if we know every species there is to know?

Is it really gonna do anything but make life go by less slow?

Oh dear, he thought in earnest as he pinned a beetle to his Styrofoam,

I hope life’s got more in store for me than ever was for Rome!

so in my theoretical picture book, this is accompanied by a sketch of a beaming super scientist in front of his award winning bug exhibition.  the pic above is of an amazing beetle we dissected on our last family vacation in Panama.  The birnbaums are awesome. and smart. and not afraid to get a little dirty:) I'm a lucky girl:)

Self Help?

Why I’m getting the fuck out of bed to go to yoga tomorrow morning:

I need to change my life

I need to change it now

I’m sick of being a sofa sitting lazy little cow

I’m sick of feeling like I suck even though I don’t

I’m sick of wanting to kill myself even though I won’t

And I’m starting to feel that pull of a life in the great beyond

A life that might in fact be safer than one in backyard’s pond.

It’d clearly be more exciting, it’d clearly be more fun

And while there’d be great dangers, there’s no greater than the greatest one.

And that’s the danger that can occur when you stay within your gates.

It’s the danger of the living dead. The decayed. The far too ripened grapes.

It’s a choice we make from day to day and sometimes get caught in the bustle

To remember that life can be good easy and fun even when you have to hustle

i'm pretty sure this poem should be accompanied by a picture of some kind of lazy cow on a couch surrounded by munchies with a sweat band on. yeah.

Dirty 1

God I love being sexy. Isn’t it a dream,

To know that with one look they’ll make you want to scream,

To know that with your pants on they’ll want to take them off,

To know that with a parting of your lips you’ll cause them to fake a cough

Oh the silent power, the thrill, the satisfaction

Of going out at night knowing you’ll get some action.

But also, it’s pretty cool to look right in the mirror,

Not seeing what’s fat or ugly or socially inferior,

But seeing that special curve right above your thigh,

And you snicker to yourself, cause you deserve this high!

Of course you wish there was a Him to touch and see your perfection

But you haven’t found the Him with the perfect predilection!

And remember this rare moment where you KNOW that

YOU ARE HOT

For the next time you’re far too nervous to show him what you’ve got