When Pigs Fly and The Sky Turns Green =]

A poem inspired by the beautful Ashley Marie =]. I hope you like it babe.

Since swine flu became a technicality,
I built a catapult and launched a
cop into the sky while bombing our names

over the azure with green krylon,
making sure to cover every spec of blue.
A tall task to take for my 5’7 stature

But I did it for you, because I asked you,
“When can we be together?”
and you sarcastically replied

“When pigs fly and the sky turns green =)”
Hands raised in victory when
the cop hit the ground, the spray-paint

dripped back to earth, and you told me
you loved me. I think about that a lot
nowadays, when

we play our little games, monopolizing
the pants in our relationship, our words
are saying one thing but our bodies are

playing charades, and now we can’t even
connect , for some reason or another.
I’m board of these games.

I - was 20 minutes late for something
You – dragged me to, and now
You and I become so far apart even

the alphabet betrays us. Sometimes
I wants to get in car and run over
letters J through T, all for you.

Because I remember a time, even if
only for a few seconds, Pigs flew, the
sky was green, and you told me you loved me.

Jeffrey McDaniel The Quiet World

This Sunday I am hopefully going to attend one of Jeffrey McDaniel's poetry workshops. This is one of my favorite poems from him. Hope you enjoy



In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

Sartorialist

my favorite pics from the sartorialist. peep the blog at the end of the post.

 

 

This Jacket is so ill.

Pocket Squares =]

Who's kid is this?

 

Peep the Ginsberg tee 

via: sartorialist

Bitter-Sweet

Bitter-Sweet.

Whenever we talk it's like talking
to a wall, I know that im talking but not really
talking at all. Our conversations on the phone were

like a pair of
new basketball sneakers,and each
word a fullcourt game, piling and piling and piling up,

until a pinky toe popped out of the side,
and it was time to throw them on a phone wire and
hang up. But you call back because

you always do, and it's the same Tarantino movie but
with of a bit of a twist at the end. Each time we speak,
a tug on the rope between our phones,

as if with a pull we say, "I'm right!", until I
let go and land face first in a puddle
of I told you so. Maybe I'm wrong.

Or maybe I'm just wrong in your version
of right. But when can i win?
Don't I deserve to be right,

sometimes? Sometimes I want you to be mad,
but most of the time I remember to forget to grin,
because my pride wont let me lose, but my love will let you win.

Another simple start

A turn of a key

Rumble of an engine

Down goes the pedal

Wheels locked in place

Checking to see enough space

Gears change

En to Dee

Hell it could even be from 1 to 3

Momentum gathers

Speed picks up

Adrenaline rush

Oh it's giving me that push

I see the needle

First glance at 60

Next glance at 80

Hell let me see it go to 90

It's just the start

Gas is full

Highway is empty

What a start

To a simple drive

-This is a poem on my friend Darren's old ass blogspot that he hasn't used in a year lol. Anyways, we were sitting around in my kitchen reading poems and he showed me this. It inspired me to create my own blog and post new poems, news, songs and daily routine bullshit. Enjoy to those who read my blog.

-Janno-