INKSOAKEDTHOUGHTS

cotypoynter.com

DRINK.THINK.WRITE.REPEAT.

overflowing with words
I pour my thoughts onto paper
in poems
in prose
in fiction
Bad poem, recycled paper, roughly typed. Sometimes, you just have punch-in and write. #electra220 #typewriterseries #typewriter #hummingbird #poems #poetry

Bad poem, recycled paper, roughly typed. Sometimes, you just have punch-in and write. #electra220 #typewriterseries #typewriter #hummingbird #poems #poetry

light-bulb antics

"it’s too hard,"
they complain
as they try to screw in
the light-bulb.

I take a drink
turn and look at them
as they fumble with the
incandescent globe.

"this is hard,"
someone tells me
as I sit back
trying to enjoy the show.

I look at someone
right into their soul
grab hold of it
and speak to it

"hard is loving someone
so much you can’t contain
a fart without it whispering love,”
I tell someone,

"hard is loving someone
so much, you’re willing to place
yourself in a desperate situation,”
I tell someone,

"hard is love
when you feel it so strongly
but have to pretend it doesn’t exist,”
I tell someone.

someone shakes their head
looks into the eyes
and tells me,
quite seriously,

"I
don’t
understand.”

does
anyone?

during the long drive

it’s times like this
I shift through the
wreckage of emotions that
float in the vastness of my
mind when I come to the
conclusion of my lack of
whole-ness as a person and
I arrive at this conclusion each
time a love leaves because
when I love a lady I
give them bits of my
heart
bits of my
soul
so they carry
me
with them
wherever
they end up in life
yet
I’m not
really
with them
and
the more I love
the
more I
give
the
less
whole
I
be-
come
and
thi-
s
w-
ill
happen
un-
til
I’-
m
no-
thing
but
ti-
ny
bro-
ken
frag-
ments
of
who
I
was.

waiting for bland eggs

I crawl from my bed
still drunk from the night
before and head to the bathroom
for my morning piss.
I flush and head back to the
den I live in at this shared
apartment to lay in bed
and hide from the work just a little
longer under the warm embrace
of my covers.
9 am rolls around when my stomach
starts to fiercely roar at me.
I try to fight it
but the hunger pains get me
good.
I dress and head off to the
university supplied dining area.
I get there five minutes after
I’ve dressed
(it was always a short walk)
expect to tame the savage beast
within me by mean of eating.
I walk up to the two women
very dull looking women
talking about absolutely nothing
and hand them my card.
They tell me to come back at 9:30am
so I go over to the chairs and wait.
twenty-three minutes later
I’m handing them my card again.
I’ve done my time
and now I’m ready to feast.
They swipe it and I enter the
dining area with all intentions
of getting in then getting out
before the crowd arrives
(I hate crowds).
A small line has started to form
in front of where the self-serve breakfast
is usually located.
I skip it for now and grab the other foods
I enjoy eating:
banana
apple
blueberry bagel
sticking up on the necessary food groups.
I return to the area where they serve eggs
(never gloriously, but always very bland)
to complete my breakfast.
The line has grew since I’ve been here.
“What the shit is the hold up?” I ask the girl
short, sweet looking girl in front of me.
She doesn’t answer.
I stand in line, waiting for it to move
just so I can get some lame eggs.
After ten minutes of my life was wasted waiting,
I finally got my lame eggs.
I snagged a few hard-boiled eggs
for good measure,
found an empty dining hall
and ate in quiet.
While I was eating
I could help but to notice
how much of our damn lives
we waste
waiting.
I bit into the hard-boiled egg
relieved that I grabbed it.

So Says Warhol…

it’s been said
that the lasting life 
leads to 
loneliness. 
it’s also been said
you mature too quickly 
you’ll be led to 
a life of
loneliness. 
what hasn’t been said
is there is a place 
where 
loneliness 
does not exist; 
there is no such place
where 
loneliness
does not exist,
we are
loneliness 
personified.

Decide to write to Flying Dog Brewery to express my gratitude for producing quality beer. This was there response. Love it. #craft #beer #Thompson #FlyingDog

Decide to write to Flying Dog Brewery to express my gratitude for producing quality beer. This was there response. Love it. #craft #beer #Thompson #FlyingDog

life flourishes

life flourishes outside
the thin glass pane
I lay next to
yet
in here
under the covers
staring at blank whiteness
waiting for some awful, inspiration
life seems to freeze
long enough
to draw
your face
on
the wall.

shiny toys

With each new
anticipated
experience
comes a shine of novelty
to it
whether it be

loves
schools
jobs
cars
homes

that excite us
encourage us to
see nothing, but goodness
in that new experience.
after a few weeks,
the shine fade into
full gray disdain
and you’ll realize
you didn’t really want it
to begin with
that the shine lured you in
like a oversized big zapper
on a cool summer day.
when this happens
and for most experiences
it will;
change it,
move on from it.

the few experiences
that the shine remains
that the joy remains
the comfort remains
you remain;
embrace them
and hold onto them
and for as long
as you can;
keep
them shiny.

cravings

we’re all starving for something
more than what the nutrients from food
can give us

and for some of us,
we know what we’re craving

while the rest of us
are simply craving
like ravenous beasts who will eat

whatever lays in our path,
but it never satisfies;
so we keep feeding our cravings

until we finally feed on
the right
thing.

learning shit

and while we sit back
taking in what we are
told
to record
to memorize
to believe
no one dares
raise
the question
of why the fuck
we spend
twenty plus years
sitting between
cinder-white walls
learning shit
we won’t ever
use.