Half-Mad Writer Guild: Haunted by the Poems of His PAST!

Jesus, it really has been near a month since i’ve written anything. The last few weeks have felt insurmountable and we aren’t through the wood yet, I need to make words happen, but still am not in the right place to do so.

Have a few poems from 2011 for free.


I am perched precariously
On the peak of my childhood
White Trash Neighbors, a neglected lawn
looking up at me
From Beneath
Twisted metal
torn to shreds
Sits atop
like a pile of old diapers left out in the texas heat for two winters
A bear
badly burned
barely hanging on
by a thread
His cotton entrails
Strewn across the yard
They look upon me
From behind blind blinds
Judging the man on the roof

Oofta, that was a doozy. beyond using dumbass classist terms like white trash, I’m mostly embarrassed of the pretentious “man looks down upon you all…and you judge me” wanna be Rorschach bullshit. Nobody likes you when you’re 23 and there was a reason in my case. The weird and sad bit is, that when I read the comic, “Watchmen” in high school as a young teen I was far closer to Dr. Manhattan in the way my worldview was shaping. Detached, alien, observant, quick, imperceptible. Now i wonder if this dumb “above you all” demeanor was something I grew into as a result of life choices that had me sitting on my mother’s roof writing poetry at 22-23, and I am only now attributing the “Rorschach motif to it. Or if the movie adaptation having been on Showtime for days on end during that summer had something to do with it. Either way.

ew Embarrassing. Bad Form. 3/10. Past-Chris, you tried.

Let’s Have another :

Alcoholic Alliteration

My guts gurgle
Guzzling gulps
Gratuitously, Great Greed’s Grin
Gapes across my gob.
Gargantuan gallons of Rum
Run gallantly round my gullet
Guaranteed Satisfaction


I am not sure i have a comment that can add to or take away from that…glorification? of a want for death? It’s honest? Let me know in the comments. I’m lost. Past-Chris has left me struggling to either make fun of him or congratulate him.


They Like You…
They Don’t Respect You

Nobody respects the starving
We only attain such things once
By the time we acquire the funds
to cover the bill
Our stomach have distended
running over
on cheap thrills
And expensive scotch


God damn it Past-Chris, you almost had it. but then at the clutch you made yourself just another poor-mans imitation of an imitation of Bukowski. You make me sad when you act like this. And here I was bragging on you.

5/10 competent Bukowski echo. Leave it where it belongs. College, which you didn’t go to.


Stuck to the Pavement
I have stated the state of my stasis
That is all this is
My Statement
And every compliment
You sent
When you Came, then went
Got sorted with
My stack of A lack of accomplishments


Who told you that being self-important was the make of an artist? What dumb movie did your aspie ass learn that from, Past-Chris? So self involved…

6/10 nothing more to say