'The Shutterpoet' is actually the second book written by the author, the first being 'When the Right Hand Knows. Some of the works on the web page are from the aforementioned and others are newer, more juvenile excerpts from future collections. The content is only limited by my imagination so preparation is futile. However, should you proceed, do so with caution... Nah, it won't help you anyways.
All works copyrighted and a property of the author*
Four to Three
Once we played in sandboxes naive
Cross school yard we teased to impress
I was skinny and you ate clay
Where are you now princess of every dawn?
Where do I go? To drown you in passion and love you 'till I end.
We can still play in the sand
and Ill push while you swing
and I'll wipe when you tear
and I'll hold when you're scared
I'll love you forever
Since they day that they made us
I was four and you were three.
I like chocolate and baby laughs
Girl giggles and humming birds
The smell of San Diego and the warmth of coming home
Puppy breath, peace, the smell of infants hair and loving
every minute of it
Weird clouds, funny people and rock crashing wave spray
Crisp morning air, freaks on the street
And the day way before a full moon
Glass lake water and the quiet of night time.
Mac & Cheese, the birds and bees and all that is
-Life with Chocolate Topping
We called him Fishy
Never really knew him well
Dropped out of a hand that
would've ate him so well.
Fishy landed on the asphalt
Orange fins for all to see
Wasn't gonna happen, so I
took a knee.
"Stay with me lil buddy."
I said, pumpin his pumpkin colored
"We don't want to lose you."
That's when my friend, dropped
down to breathe slow.
I said "Someone get me a bowl!"
But it was too late
Fishy met his fate on the mean
streets of Tucson.
This is a seriously funny piece of true fiction. I was on a working vacation. Had to get away from the home office you know, same difference. Seems many of you appear to me to be clearly confused already.
Anywho, I was just a bit more baffled when I wandered into the lost and found and found missing student teacher Constance Chance. Oooh she looked like the living dead. I mean she was pretty ugly. To be deceptively honest, I'd say she was a definite maybe. But then she took off her plastic glasses revealing her unibrow butt face. It was on before it was off.
Well, this impossible solution solved itself and soon we were all alone together. Controlled chaos turned into cool passion. I tried to act natural when I started getting a little bigger. down stairs. Bitter sweet, my confidence wavered. Barely dressed and growing smaller, I let out a silent scream and my negative growth-giant dwarf dong became old news when I saw... the spork.
Half naked Constance had a bag of loosely sealed plastic silverware and another of jumbo shrimp on dry ice with freezer burn. She was obviously an advanced beginner as the precooked raw shrimp were terribly good and complimented quite nicely the flying fish we caught. For some reason, it seemed our impromptu picnic predicament was turning out to be one heck of a fine mess.
I knew she was going to stay when she gave me an exact estimate of her negative income. She told me she played bass guitar and, as an openly deceptive resident alien, it was my only choice to put her in my one man band Not Here. You'd think we'd get a lot more gigs. People are always looking for us especially since we got the outfield from Who's on First, Why and Because to open up.
Constance expressed a definite maybe and we took a calculated risk. A small crowd began to gather together. When the music first started, there was deafening silence, then a loud whisper, and finally a dull roar. Even though I wasn't there with Not Here or her. I heard it through the Grape Vine ( they were back stage) I asked why a song is a 'they' and he said Because had invited them to the after party... Whaaa?
As event full as it was, I dont doubt the events of this evening will make future history. It was a minor miracle which caused Constance to get a little pregnant. And no easy task getting on stage with our bellies half-full of fish. Freaking Why caught a fly ball backstage from I Don't Know, (3rd base) and it was all Because.
Not here was going nowhere, until magic realism stole the show. It was awfully good and almost all of it was recorded live. I believe have the original copy. I must have misplaced it somewhere in virtual reality though. You should check it out. It's seriously funny.
Cloud? That's not where you store stuff
I'm Here! Up here fucking around doing cloud stuff.
...No, I'm not an angel, spirit, entity or otherwise.
Just me, I'm cool, not so much down to Earth though. I float, I don't fly and if I did I wouldn't go Virgin if you know what I mean...Cloudwink.
Most days I just condense and observe
I wonder what dirt feels like...
Does dirt think about me?
Well, gotta go, you know... wind.
*All works are exclusive property of the author and protected under copyright law.
So Halloween is upon us again and with it, some of my favorite haunts and some new blood...
Darkest clouds cover black sky cries
Deepest Fears Real
Now you'll know fear
Afraid to cry out
Rabbit scared Run
This is the End
Not like the doors
or green broom riding bitches
Four Horseman Fairytale
You'll never find my Evil
In you comfy slumber I design
My reign is of Pain
Bloodstained shadows will Nightmare
You to me
And I kill Ghosts
The Bong grommet
Somebody wanted me to tell them the story of the Bong Grommet. If you don't know what the Bong Grommet is, well you'd better sit back, put your feet up and listen to this cause it's fucking gonna get under your skin man. It's sick. The Bong Grommet started a long long time ago, in a place far far away... (tune in next week for part 2.)
The Bong Grommet came into exsistence a long, long time ago when the Two Hells collided and there was a great crevice in the Earth. The Bong Grommet crawled and scraped his way to the surface covered in soot and ash, the blackest pitch you will never see. The Bong Grommet lived in death for the first time. (stay tuned for pt3)
Shutterpoet doesn't sleep or pretend. Loves all. Won't quit. Ever fornever. Tearing pages daily...keep up, Its worth the while.
"What I once was showed me where I should be. What I am now is a result of that pursuit. Where I will be, is where I once was before I knew I was supposed to be there."
Breathe easy, the sun has already risen and the glory of a new day is just a blanket toss away. Warmth loves you and grace has left you an offering well worthy of the taking. Blessed vision shows you how beautiful everything is. Ignorant, you fail to realize that it’s just a reflection of you. Your heart warms with correct intention naturally content and child-ly unaware, forces guide all you are before you’ve been. Nice pretty, ballet-like, you move amazingly naïve. You’re perfect in every your way because you’re you. From a distance closer, I see all you never seek in self. Smells pretty good doesn’t it? The sound of love. It’s all of us.
written pages, and all I want is to write something beautiful...smells like baby hair, feels like too long a hug, lasts like true love, and matters like nothing ever before. Beautiful like you, like this.
Revealed when all is wrong and tainted by misdoings
Stained wretched portrait better left as clean canvas
Trembling hand collects upon the brush
Only the dull and saddened tones of failure
Vacant is the pallette of those brilliant
The eye-dazzling parade of breathing color lay dormant
Buried beneath grey-blues and horrid hues of nightmare black guilt
Pitiful stroke curses the canvas again and again
Blobs, goo-drips and negligent runs left to unveil expressionless-dying ghost
Darkened smear martyred image of self
Forever forced without will, captive hatred in tow
Beaten sorrowful portrait emerges.
A scornful brow hardens and pushes one from closed eye
To leave in the lower right would acknowledge
To leave unsigned would be admission
I won't hold my last breath for you
And so I'll never bite your lip again
Squeeze you hard enough to cry
Tear-fall from your eye
Because I do
With or without you
Sometimes time is when you have to be silent. Whisper wish away all painful portrait of pain. Smell of apple, infants hair, or her. Should ghost- invisible, still inside provokes, pledges silent nights of which will never come. Closure comes with failed heart dying breath, and love you always I will.