Julia, 1st Period Algebra
waytoostonedwaytoowaytoowaytoostoned
too stoned to bone least im not thinkin bout you when im this high
so high in da sky superfly butterfly NINJA 4-LIFE
and fuck da haterz and don't show this to anyone tomorrow youarewaytoofuckingstonedfuckingidiot just stop writing stop it cant stop it stop this no ones gonna stop this fag! uggggh
hehe
<3
JuJuBEE
Monday, February 9, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
new poem
A History of Kenny
I
said its in my past,
I
am no
longer a
sex object
for my Uncle
Bert
and the
Buddies
Bert
drinks beer with.
No.
Now
I am different,
not a Sex Object
or a
Sperm Vacuum
like
Bert
and the
Buddies
Bert
drinks beer with
say I am.
No.
Now
I am a different person not
as a slave,
as a Vacuum
for the sperm
of
Bert
and the
Buddies
Bert
drinks beer with.
No.
Now
I am just me,
just fine being
the king of my neighborhood.
Now
my name is
Special K
so I hope you respect that.
I hope you do not decide to FUCK with
Special K
because
Special K
will FUCK your shit up and leave you and your
WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY
either
dead or injured seriously.
You see,
either way,
it doesn't truly matter
to
me,
to
Special K,
king of the
motherfucking jungle.
I
said its in my past,
I
am no
longer a
sex object
for my Uncle
Bert
and the
Buddies
Bert
drinks beer with.
No.
Now
I am different,
not a Sex Object
or a
Sperm Vacuum
like
Bert
and the
Buddies
Bert
drinks beer with
say I am.
No.
Now
I am a different person not
as a slave,
as a Vacuum
for the sperm
of
Bert
and the
Buddies
Bert
drinks beer with.
No.
Now
I am just me,
just fine being
the king of my neighborhood.
Now
my name is
Special K
so I hope you respect that.
I hope you do not decide to FUCK with
Special K
because
Special K
will FUCK your shit up and leave you and your
WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY
either
dead or injured seriously.
You see,
either way,
it doesn't truly matter
to
me,
to
Special K,
king of the
motherfucking jungle.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
new poem
"Nathan, Age 11"
fuck school
fuck you
fuck faggots
fuck bitches
fuck stupid faggot bitches
bitches love me
I fucked your mom
I fucked all your moms moms
okay
just
two rules
be chill
act cool.
fuck school
fuck you
fuck faggots
fuck bitches
fuck stupid faggot bitches
bitches love me
I fucked your mom
I fucked all your moms moms
okay
just
two rules
be chill
act cool.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
new poem
Pillow God
I lived in a house with my mother and father for what seemed like forever but it was actually until I was eighteen the summer I went to the slammer for stabbing a person too many times in the neck.
Most of my time growing up was spent in the basement, where there was a big-screen TV and lots of room and space for guests. I used like to watch action movies with Dolph Lungren in the basement. And drink lots of soda. There were many things to do, in my home, in my basement. See, these were the days before puberty, before I was wetting my bed with semen. That basement was my own private party club.
No girls allowed.
One of my favorite things to do in the basment was arrange my father's designer pillows in a vertical row and then hump the pillows as if they were humans until my hairless thurst-hammer felt all tingly. Until it felt really good.
I used to lie on that couch
for what seemed like forever,
forever until
Mom made dinner
or
American Gladiators.
I lived in a house with my mother and father for what seemed like forever but it was actually until I was eighteen the summer I went to the slammer for stabbing a person too many times in the neck.
Most of my time growing up was spent in the basement, where there was a big-screen TV and lots of room and space for guests. I used like to watch action movies with Dolph Lungren in the basement. And drink lots of soda. There were many things to do, in my home, in my basement. See, these were the days before puberty, before I was wetting my bed with semen. That basement was my own private party club.
No girls allowed.
One of my favorite things to do in the basment was arrange my father's designer pillows in a vertical row and then hump the pillows as if they were humans until my hairless thurst-hammer felt all tingly. Until it felt really good.
I used to lie on that couch
for what seemed like forever,
forever until
Mom made dinner
or
American Gladiators.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
new poem
Jason
As my friends will tell you,
I have trouble remembering much
of anything. For instance,
was it last evening?
Or an evening not last evening?
Perhaps even a druggy morning
when I bumped into
Jason? Yes, it was Jason,
the same Jason who used to sling
heroin
in the house i'm now
living in.
"Central Florida", he said
"Tomorrow, I'm leaving",
and right then and there,
directly in front of him,
I understood so clearly how
our lives are based solely on
timing
that is,
until the memory of Jason
escaped me
completely
and I was left
with only a
fourty of Mickey's
and my
own
frazzled
skeleton.
As my friends will tell you,
I have trouble remembering much
of anything. For instance,
was it last evening?
Or an evening not last evening?
Perhaps even a druggy morning
when I bumped into
Jason? Yes, it was Jason,
the same Jason who used to sling
heroin
in the house i'm now
living in.
"Central Florida", he said
"Tomorrow, I'm leaving",
and right then and there,
directly in front of him,
I understood so clearly how
our lives are based solely on
timing
that is,
until the memory of Jason
escaped me
completely
and I was left
with only a
fourty of Mickey's
and my
own
frazzled
skeleton.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
new poem
Dream #1
When I step from the entrance
to Tina's loft of
flashy narcotics and\or-forget the or-
intercourse between strangers
I see a kitten whose dark eyes burn
through whatever is left of me.
There were many men with pinpointed
pupils and oversized jackets
on the way home,
and when I say "home" I really
mean your mother's house because your
mother-your lovely mother-has sex with
many young and waifish men and yes, I
happen to be one of them
but
believe me, this is nothing personal.
Earlier, before I ventured to
Tina's, I had a dream in which
I was chasing an unnamed nymphette
from my glitchy past through a
shopping mall. She turned a corner
and I lost her, but no, the dream was
not over because later I saw her
face-to-face at her parents' place where
we first locked eyes and I tried to glue
my melting face to yours
but failed.
The next night, awake, no one,
not even Tina and her
shapely cohorts could replicate
the last dream I would have before
dying between two ravaged buildings
surrounded by
these strange men with
pinpointed
pupils
and oversized
jackets.
In closing,
I pray you are somewhere
far from danger,
still waiting for me to
steal medicine from
your mother's secret cabinent.
Goodbye, Bug-Eyes.
When I step from the entrance
to Tina's loft of
flashy narcotics and\or-forget the or-
intercourse between strangers
I see a kitten whose dark eyes burn
through whatever is left of me.
There were many men with pinpointed
pupils and oversized jackets
on the way home,
and when I say "home" I really
mean your mother's house because your
mother-your lovely mother-has sex with
many young and waifish men and yes, I
happen to be one of them
but
believe me, this is nothing personal.
Earlier, before I ventured to
Tina's, I had a dream in which
I was chasing an unnamed nymphette
from my glitchy past through a
shopping mall. She turned a corner
and I lost her, but no, the dream was
not over because later I saw her
face-to-face at her parents' place where
we first locked eyes and I tried to glue
my melting face to yours
but failed.
The next night, awake, no one,
not even Tina and her
shapely cohorts could replicate
the last dream I would have before
dying between two ravaged buildings
surrounded by
these strange men with
pinpointed
pupils
and oversized
jackets.
In closing,
I pray you are somewhere
far from danger,
still waiting for me to
steal medicine from
your mother's secret cabinent.
Goodbye, Bug-Eyes.
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