Saturday, July 25, 2009

valley girl lisps

You know that feeling you get when you realize that baby you've known for ages is growing up, and that they're about to sprout wings and go off into the world, evolving before your very eyes?

Wel, this poem has nothing to do with that.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009


babykrysten wrote a delightful note.

In which I responded like a major creeper.

The night was so quiet and still, I chose to spend it infatuated with you.

it's five o'clock somewhere

PoJay and I have a shared paranoia of people finding out that we've been drinking during lunch. The best example was during a particular event, and we found each other and were guiltily whispering if we thought they thought we might have been drinking.

This poem is an ode to that. Good luck, and we all wish you the best!

i bet it's pink and sparkly

This is an accurate depiction of babykrysten's iPod. I have drawn a picture of her with a cupcake.

Medium: Stained napkin


I see what she writes, but she is like a mystery. I don't even know if this is her real hair color. I don't think that's her pillow. I just don't know.

Monday, July 13, 2009

para mi amor

Baby Krysten can be a sweetheart sometimes. The rest of the time she probably wants to sit on me or something.

Jack in the Box receipt

PoJay and I Collaborate

Poems are living things, therefore it sometimes needs more than one creator. The lovely PoJay has added some spice to an otherwise obsessively bland poem.

Blue Cheese

When I eat blue cheese
the faint taste in my mouth
teases my senses in anticipation
of the odor of each
toe as it enters my
mouth, and awashed
in wine, I cry!
Salty tears drowning myself
like the hero of a Bukowski poem
your gait, you, my blue cheese
are poetry in motion
My world, for cheese!!

Krysten <333

I love saying that I love Krysten. I love making poems about it even more.

Also, we know who wrote this epic love poem. I fully support PJ's love of Krysten.

my heart beats unsteady rhytms
synchronizing with the uneven steps
as you foxtrot past my eyes.

can we help how wobbly I seem
as you entrance me, or can we help
the terrible vibrations that surround our hands?

Threatening to gulp you and chew up my soul
centered in the ordinary, hiding 'neath the shade
is where I keep your love.