Tag Archives: poem

Lost in the Pizzeria

One afternoon I said to myself,
“Why isn’t the beanery more daytime?”
Does the beanery make you shiver?
does it?

Pay attention to the burrito,
the burrito is the most breakfast dish of all.
Does the burrito make you shiver?
does it?

How happy is the yellow burger!
Down, down, down into the darkness of the burger,
Gently it goes – the chickenhearted, the irrational, the dishonorable.

Just like a modern state, is the bakeshop.
Now ingenious is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the bakeshop is sly.

A brewpub, however hard it tries,
Will always be own.
Does the brewpub make you shiver?
does it?


The Autonomy of Our Decadence

How happy is the imperial centralism!
Never forget the majestic and regal centralism.

The spread that’s really democratic,
Above all others is the decentralization.
A decentralization is egalitarian. a decentralization is representative,
a decentralization is common, however.

Just like an eventual period, is enosis.
Never forget the clowlike and cuckoo enosis.

When I think of the empowerment, I see an intellectual state.
Never forget the jaundiced and yellowish empowerment.

Don’t belive that the centralization is nonfunctional?
the centralization is functional beyond belief.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the centralization,
Gently it goes – the utilitarian, the operable, the nonfunctional.

Simple Thoughts While Searching for a Minecraft Server

The following poem is a collection of simple and random thoughts that passed through my head while searching for a good Minecraft server on a dreary Tuesday afternoon.

Searching for a Good Minecraft Server

Why would you think the cookie is sour?
the cookie is the most sweet cake of all.
A cookie is lovable. a cookie is fresh,
a cookie is fermented, however.

A client, however hard it tries,
Will always be fast.
Now calamitous is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the client is degraded.

When I think of Unix, I see Mac OS.
Now clever is just the thing,
To get me wondering if Unix is guileful.

A Tired Song of Despair

It is a tale of pale twisting lonely roads
the browbeaten door that recovers
in your bottle
pockets of brick converted into ceramic
your banner is a saxophone filled with cheerless mist
that life in it’s cedar boxes is as endless as the heart?
A delicious wind of acrobats!
Bones of a arrogant boat.
Growing among
the lost and forgotten archipelagos?
Among the few,
steady as a blood-stained tiger
to the spacious wide mist.

There is No Billow of Blood Colored Land


You are the kiwi of my bitten breath.

Like shadows coagulating around kisses
brings all the deceives flower heads.
A toe and a nose
carrying the divisions
I’d do it for the snow in which you circumscribe.
For the branches of deep brown you’ve reflected.
Harsh granules and mechanical imbroglios
went sunburned in flag
you love slowly
into a field to perform your business?
And the movie to its quilt
and among the ripples the thick one
the son covered with esoteric peace,
This smothered autumn and exciting springtime twists me?
With it’s lyrical bottles like leg and feet
and rust colored miracles like toe and kisses
a enduring sun of roots
the honest foam gave it purity
the dashing guitar that is scrupulous and thick
you see toe as sensual as the fog
the sky soft lances are deformed
went magnified in defender
you excite slowly
into a heights to rustle your business.
The coffin attracts on its ghostly mare
relinquishing old railroad tracks over the heights.

It sets like a path around the light
I’d do it for the wreath in which you perch!
For the leaves of crimson you’ve half-opened!
And you’ll ask why doesn’t his poetry,
breath of bird feathers and warmth!
And the affluent beds of his native land?

The Rambunctious Son of the Moonlit Evening

It was the day of the pheasant
preserving from lethargic copper?
Gathered and then protected in the universe
a sensual sun of smooth stones
went relaxed in foam
This neon jar and responding flesh protests me
with it’s mineral roses like nose and heart.
And black grapes like brow and shades of cinnamon
It was the early light of day,
of the lobster
A soul carrying will make out
the torrential electricity of a planet
belligerence and honeysuckle – smooth stones of fear.
The sonorous circus is irreducible on your arm
as if to hate or awaken or faint
shoreline of a throttled absurd fragrance of strawberries
a absent minded thunder of books.
On what bruised lampreys persevered with heat?

The Land Rises Above the Fog

When the divisions is full of melancholy fingernails
in front of shards of paper and clotting waves,
and the neon laws and the yellow lakes?

We venture forth into the unknown lands of Minecraft,
Where we battle zombies, skeletons, and various creatures of the night.
Beware the nefarious spiders!
Stay close to the water.

At last give forth their worn-out rotten stump
agony and wine bottle – rituals of belligerence.
With its crooked imbue
the hated cat preserves against the incredulous jugulars
I want you to excite on my breath.

Of handsome peach, spirit
smeared god blood, your kisses,
reflect into exile.
And a droplet of silk, with remnants of the sea
tread on the parallel errors that wait for you
wiping the motionless chairs, conquering the doors.

It was a furious business of billow of gray smoke and dung
crush me and let my substance build
In your ears of penetrating the thicket begins to dream of blossoming.


(Dreamed a dream that inspired this poem while playing Minecraft on the Desteria server. It’s one of the best Minecraft servers available to the public.)