Manifesto

If poetry was something extremely complicated, and took a whole page for me to explain, then its not something I would enjoy or people would read/write for pleasure-well people like me anyways. Poetry is a lot easier then most(non readers/participators) think and when explained from my view, you will see how I can say this. When you read a piece of work, the first thing that comes to mind when reading poetry, is poetry. There is a certain distinctness of the writing that can either be a vivid sharpness or a smooth elegance, or maybe a mix of both, either way you know what you are reading. A personal attachment with work should be present in poetry, even if its not telling some type of life experience or event, it should feel like the poet was a part of it in one form or another. It can jump around/ be sporadic or flow really well, everything in poetry is for a reason and that is the writers reason, and in most cases can be kind of catchy. If you read something and you just don't like it, someone else does and you're just not looking hard enough for a hidden meaning or catch, that's being closed minded because there's always something interesting in each piece.  I relate poetry to music, its not the lyrics or notation or guitar solos that are important, and know one is to say which part is the most important except the artist.

Faulty equipment -school course poem

like a traffic jam
you can continue to see
on and on,
and on and on
that one moment
whether is be the soundboard ,
just not responding
like a traffic jam
trailing off into the
early morning and
frustration.
maybe the lack of coffee?
when nothing works, nothing at all,
piss off interface, bypass it and take the closest exit
back on track-your stuck again
stuck, not moving
and with that little flash of break lights
and the rolling of tires,
your off again
only for the moment
though,
UNTIL

Atrium, know what em sayin?

the almighty few
if only they knew
sitting on the garbage littered stairs
how cool they think they are
if only they knew
taunting the different people and social outcasts
uncalled for unconformity
they entertain themselves
if only they knew
one day i will take,
everyone that i know
dress them up in anti atrium stairs attire
and we will sit amoungst the douche bags
they will scream and holler-tell us to leave
but when they come after us
they fall in there own filth
those almighty few
If only they knew

before it gives way-move on

sitting in my dads old truck
my best girl and i
i cant leave her out
its against my vice principals

so many memories
that 72 chevy and i
strong with extreme amounts of torque
yet with a unique elegance

its has come and gone
and so has my best girl
a deep absence digging in my chest
will i ever get the feeling back?

Some sort of life quest maybe,
to recapture what it was i had
or maybe something new?
to be able to talk to her every day

to hear the sound of the small block chevy
starting up on a cold winter morning
vapor clouds billowing from the exhaust sign of head gasking near its end
like a late night fog

how long will it last?
until that head gasket finally gives way
much like the feeling for her
about her

i want to get it over with
like the gasket, its only a matter of time
but is it really the best thing?
all the hard work to come?

no

its a little late to worry about that now
whats the point
its been a year
time to start the tear down


before it gives way