Get Over What We Cannot Trip

This will probably be my last post, so I'll try to make it good. I found a bit more of my poetry that I'd like to post, so I think this post will be dedicated to that. Actually, this poetry isn't just mine. It's a joint work between myself and two of my friends (who, for purposes of this blog, shall be called S and G). Also, all of these were written on my friend's fridge in magnet words, so that can account partly for the fact that they don't make a lot of sense.

Here is a bit of free verse:

Produce juice please.
Never lick my luscious friend.
Worship bare men when someone is crushed by my fingers.

(I'd like to note that it isn't intended to have a moral, theme or any of that. If it sounded cool, we used it.)

Second is another poem that doesn't follow any particular style or theme. You might be able to pick out a bit of wisdom or two. It may even have been intentionally written (although that's unlikely).  Anyway, the second poem:

Moan like you love repulsive women,
Worship bitter juice.
Manipulate arms and gather a fiddle.
Cook raw, mad friend.
Sweat out of a thousand tiny legs.
Spray a white lust shadow.
Drive with blue felt fingers.
Moon an easy girl.
Why stop winter rust from waxing?
Want one gift when the sun has urges.
Tell knife to incubate men.
Watch how mist shines on clubs.
After bed, still see wind.
Cry near these achy, poundful, lifeless moments.
Get over what we cannot trip.
Run away fast but soar up like water.
BUT... you must need pants

Finally, we have our new, deep haiku poem (comprised of a series of haikus instead of just one). This one is probably my favorite.

Blue feels sadly gone
Will he want to tell his urge?
He stares at the storm
I spray knife of sweat
Like fast blackness moans raw need,
Sun has drunkly waxed.
Watch me lie in rust
It is bittersweet, but love
Must still see you shine.

Well, you may or may not have found wisdom in those. Anyway, bye for now!
-M