Tag Archives: poetry. schwervon poetry.

Show Poem: Ready for a rewrite…Sun. May 17 / Lawrence, KS / Replay Lounge #Schwervonpoetry

I’m ready for change
I am ready for drastic measures
I am prepared to drop tons
Split hairs
Empty bottles
I’m ready to pack my own lunch

I’m over  the long division
No more use for the
Positive train control system
I am ready to let go
Tired of clinging to the log
Like a play  performance
running night after night
With the same audience

I am ready to recast
I’m ready to re-past
Ready for a rewrite
A new kind of thing
A new kind of ring

An R ring

Not a ring tone
Not a dog bone.
A new kind of king
A me kind of thing
A new kind of song.
A new kind of sing

Lucky duck… Friday February 13, 2015 #SchwervonPoetry

Past Live have served me well

I hear the music
almost every day.

Lucky duck,
Lucky duck
Holy mother fucking fuck
What did I do to deserve
Being such a goddamn
lucky Duck

My brain
A passion field
Done up in marshmallow
And butterscotch

Bitter Ale flows from my stein?
I see my shirt
covered in glitter and cheese corn
My heart will stop some day
But my love will never end

A hard pea lodged
Beneath my mattress?
Twinkle Santa Claus eye
Rising from the middle
Of my forehead

The man on my tail?
I see that’s not gold
You lied for money

I look to the
Candy hearts and flowers
Dangling from my rear view mirror
Blood test okay
Balls okay

Crusty old man
Texting in his car
Screams at me from his
Open window
Get a job ya bum!

I scream back at him
Thank you sir!
I know
I’m sorry!
What can I say.
I just am
Such a Mother fucking
Lucky fucking duck!

(This poem was recited for the first time on Friday February 13, 2015 at The Replay Lounge in Lawrence, KS)

Bad DJ’s and good tequila…Sunday / November 16, 2014 #SchwervonPoetry

Bad DJ’s and good tequila 
A government
that most people
Never voted for 

Pornographic novelty
Tits and tatoos 
Ironic sexism 

Smoke driven Saturdays
World famous bartenders

Vanilla candles 
And garlic toast
Dried tomatoes 
Supersized bottles of wine
Punk rock iPad 
Industries of pleasure 
No no no 

It’s not all bad
It’s just some bad 
A different kind of poetey
A life with no back echo 
Steps without resonence 

I do not wish to wake 
Each morning 
In front of a mirror. 

I prefer to see more in looking
I don’t always need lights
And amplification 

These are the tools 
And love 
But they are not love 
Love is love 
It’s always this way
And always will be 

Love is a house of warmth

(This poem was originally recited on November 16, at The Loft in Mulhouse, France)