Tyler R. Martin
211)
Another shitty year down,
Take a shot and a drag
And just say goodbye
And good riddance
And repeat
Next New
Year.
bourbon, cigarettes and syllables
drunk, rambling and mildly poetic
Tyler R. Martin
211)
Another shitty year down,
Take a shot and a drag
And just say goodbye
And good riddance
And repeat
Next New
Year.
Tyler R. Martin
206)
How can I say I love you?
How can I possibly
Describe my feelings?
Perhaps some kind
Of winkie
Face will
Do?
Tyler R. Martin
When I am to be buried
And I’m placed into the ground,
With my beloved beside me
Let her not make a sound-
Let her dry eyes
Not display her feeling-
And let not her loneliness
Impair her healing…
And please, babe
Bury me with smokes
And bourbon-
To get me through
Whatever plane awaits
Without the feel of you
Tyler R. Martin
Too often do I see,
Prose with absolute ambition.
And all too often it fails to surpass
The faintest intellectual expedition;
Or reveal the workings of human condition.
All too often do I self-reflect,
And see my own ink and paper’s
Existential rendition,
Pierce no enlightened veil–deflect
Or embrace no spiritual admission.
Far too often,
Do I bawl and stress as a tactless tactician.
Utilizing irreverent nouns and verbs
For a rhymeless commision,
Only, in spite, to scrap the stanzas in dismission.
Ever too often,
Do we strive to attempt
The seizure of language to reveal our disposition,
Only to find the glare of a cruel, empty void,
Utterly lacking our desired exhibition.
Much too seldom do we:
Embrace apathy and disillusion,
To which the resulting liberation,
Compounded with inebriation
Will frequently culminate in:
An improved mindset for exaltation….
Tyler R. Martin
39)
Things that I despise include:
Those damn no smoking signs,
Fucking speed limits,
Drunk driving fines,
Dumb fucking
People
Here.
Tyler R. Martin
I love your sweet and affectionate side,
My pretty little puppy with a wanting stare.
Just a glance into your beautiful eyes
and you and I are alone together
Drunk in love, without a care
Where I’m in heaven when my lips meet yours and I’m in pain when it ends,
My heart breaks when you leave me in agony
And your tender presence my fragile heart mends.
I’m ok with that feeling, it doesn’t scorch me in fear,
Baby, I love it all…..and I’ve never felt that way before….
I love you so since
Everyday, more and more
Tyler R. Martin
You smile sweetly,
I love you--its disarming--
I’m worried that you find my behavior
Alarming.
I see you--you look down,
I hope you find my self destruction
Charming...
“Stream of consciousness”:
Intellectual code for drunken babble:
It's all I got.
Perhaps you'll mistake it for something deeper
With far more magnitude
Than just my intoxicated drool,
The product of my chemical induced solitude…
I smile, you look down,
I'm drunk, you're annoyed,
I frown.
I say, “I wrote you something”--
Then gauge reaction.
Not sure what to do,
Perhaps another
Jack and Coke will
Spur some action...
Tyler R. Martin
When I was a kid
I made plastic fly traps
Out of empty soda bottles.
My uncle showed me how
To cut a small tapered hole
In the side, and fill the bottle
With chunks of meat and water.
The meat rots, stinks, drawing
Hungry flies who come to eat
And meet their bitter end,
Drowning in the water.
The meat works well
To draw them in, but the rotten
Flies, trapped earlier in the summer,
Work even better. They rot
And stink and draw exponentially
More hungry flies to fulfill their
Cannibalistic urges. Despite
The irony of feeding off
The misery of your peers
Only to succumb to the same fate,
And in turn be fed upon yourself,
The hungry flies swarmed the trap.
As more died, the stink grew
And more were drawn.
This is what clouded my mind
As I sat in a meandering river
Of traffic on a highway which stunk
Of death as commuters rotted away their lives
Slowing down to watch an ambulance
Loading a dead body into it’s back,
And to stare dumbly at a
Tow truck dragging away
A battered, bloody minivan…..
One a.m
And something doesn’t feel right,
My head’s a buzz, bed feels small,
Another lonely night,
Seventh one in all.
Two a.m
Can not find a rhyme,
Records spin and spin,
Flipped The Doors for the ninth time…
Before grabbing Nirvana from the bin.
Three a.m
And I’m sorta sick of describing how life is fucked.
Cigarette burned my thumb,
Laptop died, but the poem sucked
So I’m really not that bummed…
4 a.m
Now no point in sleeping,
Drank the last beer,
And felt those feelings creeping
(“Am I a fucking hack?”)
That tired old fear…..
12 p.m
Punched in the gut,
Brain won’t fit my skull,
Seek out the hair of the mutt
To make the throbbing a bit more dull.
1 p.m
What the fuck did I write?
How incredibly delirious.
What did I do last night?
Why am I so furious?
2 p.m
Vodka goes down smooth,
Today, can’t stomach beer,
Desperately need something to soothe,
And the liquor store is near…
2:15 p.m
I mean, on second thought
What I wrote
Was pretty fucking smart,
I really hope……
~Tyler R. Martin
Tyler R. Martin
120)
Clothing stores make me feel sick.
Gross, overpriced bullshit.
Terrible Chinese
Manufactured
Crap no one
Really
Needs.
Gather 'round and hear a tale...
Becoming Unstuck
vulnerability at its finest
247 Solitaire Games
Finding Solutions To The Deepest Problems
the world turns on a word
Creative Writing Tips and Advice
Thoughts, experiences and learnings in a turbulent time
Irreverence's Glittering New Low!
A Voice for the Writers
Intriguing, Suspenseful, & Clean stories for EVERYONE!
A Blog here to Serve
From soul to soul
Writing In A World Of Randoms
a resource for moving poetry
I hope that someone sees this page and decides not to give up...
A dark spill of worlds and words
Impartial Informative Always
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
broken hearts beat a drainpipe
Book reviews and the occasional ramblings of a book blogger
A writer influenced by her Swedish heritage and Yorkshire upbringing
Making People Cool and Author
Seeking Solace in the Horizon of Life & Beyond
Health • Inspiration • Life
"With words, I give my thoughts life."
Fun for the whole asylum!
'I declare there is no enjoyment like reading!" Jane Austen
A collection of book reviews, guest posts, interviews and features to do with all things bookish!
Vashti Quiroz-Vega, Author, Horror, Fantasy, Thriller, Short Stories & Articles
Life is make believe, fantasy given form
Mental Health Advocate
Aspire To Inspire™
In the material and spiritual realm
Honest. Satirical. Observations.
Inspiredsoul
I created a new word...... "plagiarism"
Gen X’er chronicles the art form of living in the Angelino metropolitan environment through poetry, creative writing, art, photography, and culture.
New content every Sunday.
& Metaphors
Author, Vermonter, Amateur Human