tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87695522010-03-19T19:24:22.573-04:00Multiworded to preserve your visual acuityShanoyunoreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-8075631740667299372009-04-19T12:20:00.001-04:002009-04-19T12:21:16.299-04:00

I purchased a digital camera at her suggestionTo impress her with my reproductive organsLike all women, she was hotand then she was cold.The camera doesn't work anymore.

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-35239971755866048192009-03-06T17:19:00.002-05:002009-03-06T17:23:18.120-05:00

Every human being is a unique snowflakeTerrible in his or her own wayIn the appropriate mannerBefitting their experiences and abilitiesPerhaps if we were to quantify demeritBeing naturally pessimistic,I would find the glass half-empty after all.

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-65258292286440659492009-01-24T14:53:00.001-05:002009-01-24T14:53:19.936-05:00

The vehicle is something to look forward to at the point in your life when you have run out of things to look forward to. When you are falling gracefully toward adulthood this isn't the sort of thing you think about. There is still your first kiss, losing your virginity, your first job, and all sorts of other things to look forward to. Then at some point after I started looking back to find

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-38797902299758820782009-01-22T23:12:00.001-05:002009-01-22T23:12:40.694-05:00

Every minor event can become a catastropheExpectations diverted to predictable lowsThe ability to care diminishes and growsI don't think I'll live happily.This flawed and useless brain of mineCan only lead to my declineNo matter for whom I might opineMy feelings don't seem to align.

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-81654124954062642422009-01-20T22:25:00.002-05:002009-01-20T22:28:35.951-05:00

In the system of romantic justice, there are two separate yet equally important groups.The wanted, who instigate and develop relationships, and the scorned who catalog the results.We live their stories.*dun dun dun*

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-34077696263826396212009-01-06T18:47:00.001-05:002009-01-06T18:47:55.232-05:00

I have an inspirational picture of Rocky Balboa.Like all inspirations it is a form of hubris.Snow falls lightly enough to stickto my purple and white knit cap.My leather jacket and dirty white jeansare far from the appropriate attire.Looking up at the sky,I figure the hill is an easy climband a possible sprint.Will I feel the burnand warm my barely covered bones?I hear the beat in my head.I try

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-69524952490579461342009-01-01T18:36:00.001-05:002009-01-01T18:36:20.569-05:00

Take the differentialto represent the deceleration of life.Time spent versus time enjoyed.Subtract messages sentfrom messages received.Two roads diverged from my crotchso I took the one I could travel;rather than banging my head against obstaclesand uselessly chattering in barsFor one year of being lovedI paid with eight years of being lost

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-31055500973640324502008-12-15T23:02:00.001-05:002008-12-15T23:02:47.899-05:00

I'm not used to being now.In unused spaces or quiet places,I stare off with a worried frow.Should we learn from our pastOr should we pray for ignorance?I'm stuck in a place that is not hereIn a time that is not nowAs if my life has devolved intoA cheesy science fiction novellaOr a zen koan with no answerWhen I locate my halted breathcan I rescue myself from the void?I try to count the breathsOr

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-34183696626819861002008-12-15T00:12:00.000-05:002008-12-15T00:17:56.666-05:00

"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."- The BeatlesI never liked the term resolution,The natural implication of the nounobscures the intention of the verbthough I wish my thoughts alone could conquerall my inertia and regret.I realize that your absence is my absenceRedefined by insecurities and concernsThe resolution is to be presentrelentless in the pursuit of

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-19109105554435265572008-12-13T01:10:00.000-05:002008-12-13T01:11:00.990-05:00

The simple editor is the best editor:My words are not masked with bullet points,or dressed up in a faux slide show.I think that pure thought is the essence of dialogueAnd that plaintext is as close to that as we may achieve.

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-87912350909537633332008-12-13T00:51:00.002-05:002008-12-13T00:52:40.433-05:00

You said, with twinkling eyes, that penguins mate for life.With fervor, you noted that Salvidor Dali loved his wife.You taught me the geography of kindness, and granted a compassbut without you I cannot find a point north of the north pole.Everything seems to go south in this cold climate."We're fumbling," you observed, juggling the compass and sextant.I knew that I loved you, but I was unaware

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-37778510581445800262008-12-06T19:28:00.001-05:002008-12-06T19:28:55.828-05:00

Why should I fear saying hereThat I walk alone, to have rarely knownThe comfort of companionsThe gaze of gracious girlsThe boisterousness of boysI will sit here all alonePerplexed by owning a telephone

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-2198150633976995632008-10-17T21:57:00.001-04:002008-10-17T21:57:21.293-04:00

people are who we think they arethe fat woman is laughing at whitesyour grandparents should be behind barsbut clouded judgment is popular might

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-40533999220375465932008-10-06T00:13:00.000-04:002008-10-06T00:14:31.031-04:00

Video games as art have never really taken off.  I suppose that if I were to create a video game with the aim of making it art then I would want to focus on the somewhat peculiar ability of video games to educate the senses and tastes.  Namely I would create a fighting game in the vein of either Street Fighter or Soul Calibur that was about poets beating the shit out of one another and quoting

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-4540394668657943022008-10-05T00:42:00.003-04:002008-10-05T00:43:12.282-04:00

Sexually, my best days are behind meArtistically I have a lot to look forward to(depending on the efficacy of medicine)The Vagina is the death of cultureAnd penile deformity is the rebirthBut only in my mind because of its' particulars t  r   u   c   t    u    r     eI should have chosen a longer word.

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-18304776178544383602008-09-28T02:13:00.001-04:002008-09-28T02:13:57.212-04:00

It's no secret, but murder is easy;when calm such thoughts can make you queasy.But when rage is aroused and cruel thoughts resoundYour deeds can bring you infamyYet without passion of hateOr hearts beating irateWe remember those feelings as fake

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-42313402248324341072008-09-24T21:09:00.001-04:002008-09-24T21:10:36.998-04:00

It is popular to say:The princess in another castleis our own problem's reflectionA wisened albeit cliche misunderstandingThe everyman cannot seem to settleOn anything with imperfectionAnd the imperfect commit the sinOf rejection out of hand.

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-3141400984579267942008-09-23T23:07:00.001-04:002008-09-23T23:07:40.475-04:00

WhatWhen did this happenI became all wrinkly and aloneA post california-rasins rasinShuffleboarding to eternityMaybe it hasn't been all badBut I have been a little hung upThe negatives are more poignantMaybe that's why bad things happento good people as well as meI did all the right thingsmade all the right choicessaid no to the people who annoyed meand yes to the people who said noAll these

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-87457794713114751032008-09-22T22:53:00.003-04:002008-09-23T23:25:47.281-04:00

"Your son, I am afraid, is a worshiper of the Devil." - My science teacher speaking to my mother, Eighth Grade.The poem of that beastinvolves six syllablesover six hateful linesspread over three stanzasto scare English teacherswith numerology.But the evil powerhated by the Lord Christis minuscule and meekagainst mankind's dark heartas it beats in secretand lets us stretch so far.Quoting

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-30360211003021836292008-09-21T22:56:00.000-04:002008-09-21T22:57:24.301-04:00

If I were the king of hellThen at least i'd be a kingSo if I wished you wellI know that you would singBut my reign is a hard sellTo make something of our fling

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-41759937450699517732008-09-18T17:43:00.001-04:002008-09-18T17:43:43.708-04:00

All day, at work, I wait for a letterin response to a personal advertisement.I wonder if I've hidden the quiet desperationevoked by the mention of womenFive o'clock frenzy and out the doorA million cars jam the highwaysI can't think of other thingsI silently compose a response on the off chanceI turn on the computer to check for messagesThe blank screen says no, not you.

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-4940625130939390872008-09-16T18:45:00.000-04:002008-09-16T18:46:23.265-04:00

I want to have the kind of sexThat memory foam wants to forgetThat prideless selfishnessdressing lust with polyamoryBecause it's afraidonly of what others thinkI like conversationswhen they aren't about anythingJust talking to talkwith no need for an escape hatchOnly enclosed spaces need to ventBut they're hard to set up

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-32958424941140008892008-09-14T14:16:00.001-04:002008-09-14T14:17:57.914-04:00

My commitment would appearTo be the thing I've come to fearEvery journey seems to proveThat to leave is not to moveNow I see this place as prisonBars made of lights and pistonsAnd in spite of each escapeEach sentence is my fate

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-50894908848767080602008-09-11T21:40:00.002-04:002008-09-11T21:42:21.099-04:00

We live in an age of simple ideasWhere common cause can make a plea"War on terror war on drugsIf you don't vote red you're a dirty thug!"Sing it from the skyscrapers, reverendOr maybe from a cenotaphshow us all your bitter ends and wrath"Stop Recession, obsession and human repressionThe blues are the way to end your depression!"Graffiti under this railroad bridgewont make you thinkso don't drink

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8769552.post-38748976272431222882008-09-10T00:38:00.002-04:002008-09-10T00:40:36.148-04:00

Three letters stretched outover two or maybe six yearsAthens gave the best fourThat my life could withstandBut what do I need withan expensive piece of papera framed placeholder for talent

Shanoyunoreply@blogger.com