Open Poetry
This is some poetry that I worked on a few months ago, and I polished it up grammar-wise. If the photo looks messed up, I'm sorry. From a level of technology, I am kind of weak. But, yeah, that's me. If you like what you see, there is much more to come. Good night.
Andrew Jennings
5/26/2013
Bondage
We will not die for a god like this,
who creates mistakes that walk like this.
I spit in his face who made me,
and laugh as he obeys me.
I have listened enough to your children,
with their squeamish lies,
and desecrations of life
that have us
bonded with barbed wire,
piercing, bleeding, dying, gasping.
"Fuck you, asshole,"
I scream
As I walk out of the penitentiary.
I Raped A Tree
I raped a tree.
Christ died for me.
I bought the holy bible at barnes and noble
along with a starbucks coffee,
and so I raped a tree.
Gee.
I think Jesus would be proud of Me!
Being all I can be,
spending all I can spend
on ego,
never saying lego
because what Jesus fucking did on the cross
was too fucking selfish
in our minds
that we cannot comprehend
what fucking pain He must have gone through
but sitting around and praying to the heavens
for God to make everything better
when
looking within,
a realization may emerge God is within you and I,
and the fact that He lies within sinners
is more beautiful
than any fucking jungle
that www.amazonfucking.com
could ever sell us.
So don't you see
that we
are living in a plastic fucking fantasy,
all tied up in man's lies
just so we can
munch on mcdonald's fries
and then work it off
without guilt,
So on New Year's Eve
Great resolutions We've built
to change our lives and change the world
But drunk ass on bourbon and scotch
Is no time to make
proclamations about how
we are going to run for President of the United States of
America in 2016, ha ha.
So instead, sleep it off, wake up, refreshed, sober, fucking look at yourself in the fucking mirror and make a decision that today, You will rape no more trees, but will decide to make a fucking difference in the life of someone who really fucking needs it.
Thank you.
Twelve Stepping
What did you think of them? they asked. Did they help you? Would you recommend. . . would you please shut your pie hole, Please? An extended moment of silence, then a cascading sigh. I'll say everything that I deem necessary to the situation at hand. The first thing they enabled me was of awareness, so yeah, the Illuminati, the club, their precedent cause for organization was really just a bright neon comforter and intellectuals heads were frowned upon. Shit, an attempt to stamp out those who would want to know more, get in tune so the more they pushed their own sentiments the, more awareness I founded and that was the largest thing I learned. How about the staircase? The staircase? Yeah, the staircase, Oh, I'll tell you about the staircase, because you see the first stair is where they get you like a police baton to your knees, and that bitch screams pain and surrender and I'm not even to the other stairs yet which open you raw and suck you dry and by professionals no laymen that the condition is hopeless, irreversible, impossible to fix, well I fixed, yeah I fixed that condition just fine. How? How, I'll tell you how. Now, please shut up. No more questions. You deter me. I dropped out. I chose what 21st century American culture has lost: guts, balls, nerves of steel, we are a country of laid back idle couch potatoes, and yeah that is a cliché now but for some reason that still goes unheeded it's because of the lack of guts, balls, nerves of steel that many crawl to these groups to gripe and pick up trinkets but the real story begins with squatting on the end of the four foot corner wall flipped on Robitussin unable to stand so high and when I did going to Canal, watching the 2007 sixteen seed March Madness team enter their hotel and went back to his apartment, calling me over to "Get in the car, Get in the car," he drives the same old blaming, shouting, accusing, "How the fuck would you know anything" mental thing in my head because you have not tried cough syrup the way I have tried cough syrup, and him wanting to fucking kill me, that night that is how I got to the staircase, that is how I got back to hell, that is how I found awareness. (deep breath, deep breath, deep breath.) So what do I think of them? They're a bunch of good hearted, son of a bitch manipulators is what they are. They manipulate everything, and those around them, and I think that I have said my piece, may I go, and the microphone hits the carpet as I light up my cigarette.