Posts Tagged ‘women’

depression

The crackle of clumsiness

As I attempt to communicate

While drunk as Boris Yeltsin

And only end up freaking women out

And being that creepy guy

That incel waste of space exuding desperation

When I was just trying to be friendly

And not trying

To get into their pants

Or at least trying not to think about it

Or look like I was thinking about it

After the first rejection

Comes the second

And that’s okay

It’s after the hundredth rejection in a row

When not even looking for anything sexual

That the depression really sets in

Like a cancer of the brain

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Take it through the moonlight to a center of beatific wisdom in the sky

Break it through the half-light on an unfamiliar globular mass

Make it with porcelain maidens whose expressions and breasts long for consequence

And never give up never break down never surrender

Until you have made synchrony out of dust

Slake your thirst with gorgeous wines while breaking into pieces

Wake up to a blurred suggestion of being out of style with a smile

Shake up paradigms that cut and symbols that caress like feathers

Until your hands are scuffed by dirt and there is vivid imagining

Snake it down cramped pathways in search of cigarette butts

Hate it from angelic spirit beings out of hopeless obligation

Ache it in co-ordination with random out-of-touchness

Until your heart is full as an egg and you pick the right alternative

 

 

zuckerberg

Facebook what bullshit bat-shaped insanity have you got for me today?

Facebook how many of these  random people do I really know?

Facebook why do all these women in their underwear want to be my friend?

Facebook I love your pictures of piggelies and politics

Facebook I love your pictures of ganja

Facebook I love your churning bubbles of news and opinion

Facebook you’re losing the younger generation because their parents are spying on them

Facebook I’m sick of your ads and fake news

But I can’t give you up

How can I stay mad at you?

When you seem to know me so well

With your algorithms you structure my news feed to keep me amazed and astonished

You give me a thousand imaginary friends

You give me a place to show off my poems

You give me the illusion of sociability

Oh Facebook feed you feed me crap but some of it is cool

Oh Facebook feed you fondle me with likes

Oh Facebook feed you massage my ego with comments

Facebook you may be fading away

But you’re still amusing

cott

Remember those days of rebellion

At the Cott sessions on Sunday

In a beer garden paradise

All the wonderful women

All the dodgy guys getting away with it because they’re young

Pissed on cheap beer

Pub rock pounding from speakers

Nineties music all afternoon as it was the nineties

Running amuck with your mates by the Indian Ocean

Meeting friendly people at the OBH

Saying Happy Fucking New year at New Year to everyone

Falling into lust for delicious moments

Stolen kisses of consequential fire

Dancing in underage glory

Wild undulations as a dandelion being

Mega celebration enhancing existence

Experiencing bloated enthusiasm

With good friends before they deteriorated into addiction and insanity

Next Day

Posted: October 12, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

valium_tablet__i2006e0134_disp

Piggelie on valium and weed was a very happy Piggelie

Oh the schemes he’d weave and the phosphorescent day-glo phantasms that lurked in his brain box

He felt capable of anything as all anxiety had gone

He felt more human and less tired from the wretched night before where no sleep was possible

He felt he could have a loving relationship with a human female well, for an instant

He felt this would not be possible until he lost 30 kg

 

winona-fasinfrankvintagecom

I remember you skin on skin
That time when I took you from behind
And you said ‘fuck harder’
But now you’re gone
Moved on
And I am alone
And soaked in memories
From the wank bank
I am still eternally grateful
To you
For my most successful relationship
Which wasn’t really that successful
As I was taking too many drugs
And running amuck

americanrestoration

I wish I was a real man

Like those guys on American Restoration

I wish I was more Nick Cave and less Clive Palmer

I wish I could drink all night and throw up in the morning like Bukowski

But I’m not a badass

I’m not alpha

I lack the social skills to pick up women in a bar

I lack the drive to dominate and subjugate

I have a feeling I lack testosterone

Can men and women really be friends?

Just because you want to fuck someone

Doesn’t mean you don’t respect them

In fact you probably respect them more through idealisation

Imagining them on a pedestal

Beautiful unobtainable woman

Forever in my mind

I’d be happy with the friendzone

Just to spend some time in your orbit

Gorgeous bodacious babe

 

velvets

 

When I was in a band

We thought we were going to be famous

And snort cocaine out of groupies’ butt cracks

Get married to some hot models

Or maybe Winona Ryder

And take an amount of drugs that would scare the shit out of Keith Richards

We had a go at doing the drugs

One time we even got paid in Morphine

And pretended to be Lou Reed

Many times I was kicked out of my own gigs

Drunk off my head and acting like a lunatic

So I didn’t have much luck with the women

‘Cos I was too fat and weird

We always did well with the bizarre guys with dreadlocks at the back of the bar

‘Who would love our silly pot songs

And ridiculous attempts to channel Iggy Pop

When the band broke up

‘Cos the other members started breeding

I was sad

Curtin_T.L._Robertson_Library

Campus is quiet as I walk through this time of year
Still an assortment of unobtainable, and unbelievably beautiful young women
To flash a glance and then look away
So I don’t freak them out with my desperate eyes
Lots of dodgy sculptures that cost the Uni a lot of money
Grass but not enough trees
Various concrete and brick monstrosities to walk around
My heart is heavy and death is not far away
Like I’m hanging from a cliff
I pass the library and head up the path through the amphitheatre
Turn the corner then I’m at the OT building
Pushing my troubles into recesses of my mind,
I head into work

party

Will you be there?
I will be there with my many friends
I will get drunk and stoned and run a humungous muck
I will hit on all the single women and attempt to be interesting
And some woman may find me interesting
Come on, it has happened before
Occasionally
There will be some cool bands there churning out distorted indie goodness
It will rock like a hit of cocaine
In an intimate vein

Will you be there?
It is likely that someone will choke on their own vomit
Which is a nasty way to go but better than choking on someone else’s
There will be rivers of alcohol and forests of weed
Tobacco and pot smoke will be thick as the conversation
People will exhibit joy and fascination
With each other and with the moments of togetherness
Which grow into an ecstatic peak through group synergy
Then subside into nothingness as everyone goes home to their hangovers