nothing in here is true

  1. Wednesday, April 1, 2015

    Sylvia Plath 1932-1963 

    sylvia plath

    “I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.”

  2. Sunday, February 17, 2013
  3. Friday, October 26, 2012

    best poem i ever wrote about jeanine? prob this one 

    “oj and courtney and everyone but you”

    i writer everyday
    and ask her to come back
    but i do not send em
    i think about younger girls
    or bigger girls or wilder
    girls arent what im lookin for now
    but you know that
    and its not super, man, thinking about all of whatever happened
    that added up to this
    which is me alone at 2am
    suckin on a pen
    thinking of how i write and write and nothings

    you drive through the desert
    and you see two things
    oilrigs pumping and windmills spinning
    motion and no movement
    spirit, no action.
    whirling and whirling
    typing and hoping and praying
    and thinking
    im gonna die without her
    thinking im so stupid to even be thinking

    everyone gets over theirs
    i got over mines
    whats so damn perfect about this little flatchest grrl
    with her perfect hair and lips
    we’d kiss and cry and lie all night
    slept in so many rooms
    all over california mexico and foreign lands like
    gretna and maui
    whats the good lord got saved for me
    do bums in the street with heaps of dirty clothes used as sheets
    snoozing away in a doorway think about what the lords gonna bring em
    and who am i to ask when theyve got real dreams
    i just want my little girl.
    clouds pass by overhead silent in the nightsky
    theyre going to where clouds die
    and theyve seen her why dont they tell me hows it really.
    the rain, it rains, and it pours on a little pink girls bike
    half falling down no kickstand
    im damned why wont he say it
    in a holding cell not hell but close someone in the cloud has a rope
    but theyre scared id use it the cheater way and youd see dangling converses
    in the morning with milk but i got better plans dear fans
    i just want my little girl.
    and they bowl as the rain pours tears from sobbing saints twentyfour hours it flashes
    semis blow past spray mud on the corn and i wish sometimes i wasnt born
    you dont need me what role am i bukowski kicks the crap outta this guy
    dont sex good anymore and i cant hit a curve
    i teach fools how to sell im the king of the nerds
    so whys he got me breathing still aint i paid all my bills
    maybe thats it.
    i still want my little girl.

  4. Monday, April 11, 2011

    super cool gaucho girl just sent me this poem 

    mysterious lake in downtown LA that no one likes

    “Each Moment a White Bull Steps Shining into the World”

    If the gods bring to you
    a strange and frightening creature,
    accept the gift
    as if it were one you had chosen.

    Say the accustomed prayers,
    oil the hooves well,
    caress the small ears with praise.

    Have the new halter of woven silver
    embedded with jewels.
    Spare no expense, pay what is asked,
    when a gift arrives from the sea.

    Treat it as you yourself
    would be treated,
    brought speechless and naked
    into the court of a king.

    And when the request finally comes,
    do not hesitate even an instant–

    Stroke the white throat,
    the heavy, trembling dewlaps
    you’d come to believe were yours,
    and plunge.

    Not once
    did you enter the pasture
    without pause,
    without yourself trembling,
    That you came to love it, that was the gift.

    Let the envious gods take back what they can.

    — Jane Hirshfield

  5. Tuesday, June 17, 2008

    since nothing in heres true, lets rock 

    her name was rosa linda
    she lived in a shoe
    said i love you baby
    she said i love me too

    started hating dreams in high school cuz they were intense and terrifying
    dreams where the cubs always lost or i was alone or i couldnt scream
    then they got worse. then thunder crashed and people whispered things
    there were shadows but they werent.
    there were light blasts
    there were moans.
    there were dreams where an undercover federal agency of spies
    tapped into the thoughts at night of a private boys school
    made it so we couldnt feel any pain on the football field
    made it so we couldnt forget anything we read anything we heard
    made it so we could esp each other and esp right back.
    made it so our dreams disappeared.
    which we loved them for, and would do anything for them
    especially if it meant fighting evil.
    cuz fuckit compared to those dreams
    fighting was like licking ice cream.

    hated dreams even more in college cuz it made us doubt if the xbi was still in us
    cuz when they were, there were no dreams.
    and we were invincible. undefeatable.
    fearless, and super respectful.
    sorta like rosa linda, who lived in a shoe
    said i want you baby. said, i want you too.

    would dance for you in the back room of deja vu
    tight spaces back there, dark places back there
    and two for one dances on wednesdays for you.
    she said whats in here,

    nothing in there
    but you.

  6. Tuesday, January 31, 2006

    nolan ryan 

    19 years ago
    nolan ryan had this guy twenty-six
    running straight at him
    nolan’s forty-six
    the guy was mad cuz
    hit em with the ball
    and when the guy got at
    nolan nolan put him in a headlock
    and said
    now im gonna hit you with my
    then nolan got the next 13
    of 14
    batters out.
    i really miss you jeanine
    satan and the lord put job thru a lot
    satan said if job had everything
    taken from him he wouldnt love
    you God why should he
    God said fifty bucks says he won’t crack
    God and satan make bets on me how
    i’ll start writing
    sad poems again
    n just get sadder
    but nolan proved sometimes
    you cant lose.
    for even
    hates poems about baseball.

  7. Monday, September 19, 2005


    with a scream brave ulysees removed the pitchfork
    from the throat of the son of a bitch from detroit

    “eye dont understand why they still fuck with me
    aint my name known and feared through these seven blue seas?”
    The boat it did rock and the four winds were blowin
    as in came a mighty big terrible storm.
    the man from detroit from the deck he was thrown
    and the spray and the rain on ulysees came down.
    “Seaman Smith come up here, Dr. Know, up you too
    i’ve got miserable news to unload upon you.
    seems your wives they have written, untrue they have been,
    paid that man there to row his boat here from Japan.
    They’ve sold all of your cars
    and theyve killed all your cows,
    actioned off all your boys
    then they burned down your house.
    They’ve told all your secrets to all of your parents,
    the pope, he found out, and annulled both your marriages.
    How sad you must be, good men you are too,
    but fight we must now, as therrrrres work we must do.
    To the port we have pirates, on Acid theyre on,
    starboard, fine women, the best to be found.
    But we have only one cannon, and only one ball,
    and, lo, in bad waters, tis certain death to us all.
    but wait till you hear the worst news of the bunch:
    in our cargo is condoms, and the girls just made lunch.
    “I’m with you Brave captain,” Dr. Know he did pledge,
    “I spit on the pirates and that son of the bitch.”
    “And I,” declared Smith, and erect did he stand,
    “A child I was born, but I must die a man.”
    The pirates struck first, but the ball it did miss
    but two more blasts came forth and they scored the first hits.
    Ulysees, he tacked ‘gainst the old pirate ship
    “Prepare ye to fight, boys. Prepare ye to live!
    Though it means nothing to no one:
    ask Doc and ask Smith,
    we ride this ship once, and our lives they are quick,
    as we ram these dull bastards, decide we of which:
    Shall we howl our arrival or die sons of the bitch?”

    The crew, beat and worn-out, were true men of the sea
    as little as schoolboys they knew who theyd be,
    from Hell and seawater they bounced in the waves
    shrieking filth and poor tidings and pretty bad names.
    And though their ship was a-sinking and doomed that it was
    the men they stood proud as the rockets did buzz.
    “If I thought we would die here, I’d shake your hands now,
    but there’s women behind us, and that smells like good chow.
    Fight on ye, me bastards, dont let one go unslayin
    and stab every dead man, for they just may be playin.
    Good luck to you all, to the rest happy sailing,”
    were the last words brave Ulysees was ever heard sayin.

    from the upcoming book Stiff +  nsfw version

  8. Wednesday, January 12, 2005

    annika procliams wednesdays poetry day 

    run for the borderso heres one from ten years ago

    “no one home but the stove and thats fixin to go out”

    so who is this fair skinned boy with jacket so mellow

    eyes lashed with dew drops and memories of finer times

    he drinks so much pop hes gotta pee a lot

    always a half burrito in the fridge and some new scratch hes

    gotta itch

    and i want you

    my numbers in the book says she and smiles back so effortless

    he looks like shit always has its almost a game now

    he wants to be as fat as a cow

    he wants to sleep all tangled with you

    and he wonders where you are and what you do and what you


    write him he lives in san francisco

    hed rather read what you write

    hed read your shit all night

    its tough going through your second teenagehood

    staying up all night getting in dumb fights

    he said im gonna say this once and forever hold my peace

    if you ask pretty please i’ll give you a peice

    and love and lust are sitting dangling their feets


    kissin cousins thrice removed and im gonna remove so much

    youre gonna stare at the strokes and not see

    theres no one here but me

    and whats inside of me

    burrito and love and pop and pee

    annika + tiffany + whitey

  9. Saturday, January 17, 2004

    i know these are dumb and narcisistic, 

    sonnetsbut theyre easy and insta would never do them so here:


    — Name: dumbass

    — Birth date: rocktober 22

    — Birthplace: our nations capital

    — Current Location: hollywood

    — Eye Color: black

    — Hair Color: black

    — Height: 5’10”

    — Righty or Lefty: green

    — Zodiac Sign: libra/scorpio


    — Your heritage: american

    — The shoes you wore today: just socks

    — Your weakness: morning blogging

    — Your fears: theyve all been realized

    — Your perfect pizza: ginos east with sausage & pepperoni

    — Goal you’d like to achieve: retrieving my mojo


    — Your most overused phrase on AIM: im 110

    — Your first waking thoughts: i love howard stern

    — Your best physical feature: hands

    — Your most missed memory: huh?


    — Pepsi or Coke: diet pepsi

    — McDonald’s or Burger King: kfc

    — Single or group dates: im not that kinky – single

    — Adidas or Nike: f nike and their sweatshops

    — Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: long island

    — Chocolate or vanilla: both, as often as possible

    — Cappuccino or coffee: that junk is for adults

    darth vaderLAYER FIVE:

    — Smoke: only in amsterdam

    — Cuss: never

    — Sing: horribly

    — Take a shower everyday: not on weekends unless i have a date

    — Do you think you’ve been in love: dozens of times

    — Want to go to college: my favorite 7 yrs were spent there, why not

    — Liked high school: sorta

    — Want to get married: definately

    — Believe in yourself: only when im drunk

    — Get motion sickness: rarely

    — Think you’re attractive: nope

    — Think you’re a health freak: i wash my hands a lot

    — Like thunderstorms: of course

    — Play an instrument: made a girl sing today

    LAYER SIX: In the past month…

    — Drank alcohol: duh

    — Smoked: double duh

    — Done a drug: triple duh

    — Made Out: quadruple duh

    — Gone on a date: hmmm, not sure id call them dates

    — Gone to the mall?: no

    — Eaten an entire box of Oreos?: they come in bags

    — Eaten sushi: of course, oh wait do you mean, then hell no.

    — Been on stage: yes but the cameras were off

    — Been dumped: if you dont get said no to youre not risking

    — Gone skating: im old, no

    — Made homemade cookies: havent workd the oven in a year

    — Dyed your hair: ha!

    LAYER SEVEN: Ever…

    — Played a game that required removal of clothing: but of course

    — If so, was it mixed company: but of course

    — Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: but of course

    — Been caught “doing something”: people honked from below, so yes

    — Been called a tease: hmmm

    — Gotten beaten up: lets just say i was outnumbered

    — Shoplifted: never

    — Changed who you were to fit in: only for business


    — Age you hope to be married: 125

    — Numbers and Names of Children: 10, angus, pete, jimi, lefty, george foreman, prince, ilka, pierce, ae, michaelangelo, mary

    — Describe your Dream Wedding: on the cliffs of isla vista

    — How do you want to die: slowly

    — Where you want to go to college: i do have a terrible memory, but i believe i already went to college

    — What do you want to be when you grow up: tall

    — What country would you most like to visit: finland


    — Number of drugs taken illegally: only one at a time

    — Number of people I could trust with my life: trust is my middle name, my mom just spelled it funny

    — Number of CDs that I own: thousands and thousands

    — Number of piercings: just my last name is pierced

    — Number of tattoos: its against the good book, so none

    — Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper?: hundreds and hundreds

    — Number of scars on my body: several

    — Number of things in my past that I regret: less than five

    — Who did you get this from: Bluecad