A Heartbeat
I’m about to be irrelevant, in a fucking heartbeat -
some kids are making better art from their fucking car-seat.
My legs make up the re-bar in this reinforced concrete - I stepped in it.
It’s hard to take steps in'it?
Hate'em or love'em, but no matter how you spin it,
you can’t hate'em for lovin’ a toy that helps'em fidget.
Busy minds, bee hive, thoughts in all directions
- so much getting done while your thoughts are on erections.
Are kids getting dummerer? (Was Cialis a good investment?)
What value do you hold, if there’s no one there to listen?
I’ve got class…
So I take cash for all my lessons.
Making money off backpacks, and second yes-es
“Ya, Ya.” I’ve got depression.
Stuck here from second guessing.
Fuck mirrors, and fuck perfection.
I look old from chasing death yet I get told amazing stuff like…
“I love you”
“You matter”
I feel smart, but I’m fatter
and perfection’s still a ways up this broken ladder.
Splinters in my hand, the blood rains on my face.
They all say I’ve gone mad, but a god reigns in his way,
my God reigns in her way.
She is youth! Driven.
She seeks new, and takes more than just what’s given…
I am not made in her image - I am older.
Constantly growing colder, my extroversion’s on the shelf.
Ice armours my shoulder - new versions of “myself”.
I pray that, as I hold her, she will hear my cry for help - please God!
Help me get off this couch.
Vaas called me insane before I took the CD out.
Delete my enemies and friends - Ya, I took the seedy route
and left a wake of carrion to feed my greedy mouth.
But I am vegetarian, only eat meat when I’m out… “Pause!”
‘Cause that’s the new “no homo!”
Something hip to say while I’m still Ellen Page in Juno.
Besides,
I only drink 1%… And now that’s something you know… I guess…
'Cause you can’t know anything!
My God’s “Pursuit of knowledge”
and I’m a seminarian-antiauthoritarian
egalitarian and contrarian…
I get annoying… That’s for sure.
I get lost in thought… And here we are.
I get distracted… Stuck… Not going far.
The cement builds up
higher
and my entire skeleton becomes re-bar.
Made irrelevant by kids with better art.
Going mad beyond the grave, my tomb’s a beating heart.
Pounding on the walls I am screaming for my God -
sorry,
for everything
I’ve never done.
Those with blind faith
see the sky as blue,
while I look through truth
and see its purple hue.
White Space
Wandering through my mind,
trekking through the blizzard.
“Is that the faint glow of a memory in the distance?”
(A cabin with candles in the windows)
My own footprints lead right by it,
I guess I must’ve missed it.
I walk into the cabin and enjoy the warmth inside.
The hosts face’s are unfamiliar,
but all of them wear a smile.
Except for one, folded in the corner.
The others roll their eyes and suggest I
“Ignore the angsty loner.”
His darkness is familiar,
in a way that feels unfounded.
When I have to look away from him
the cabin vanishes all around me.
—————-
The snow blasts me in the face again
and I can’t make out the trees.
If these memories keep fleeting,
I will, surely, freeze.
“Is that the faint glow of a memory in the distance?”
THE GALLERY OF LOST STARS
Hey everyone, I know I’ve been real absent for some months, but I was working on a whole bunch of projects. The first of which to be released is my narrative poetry book The Gallery of Lost Stars!
It’s available right now on uglyj.selz.com and the pre-order package has some cool bonuses!
As an artist I am beginning my journey as Ugly J, I want this project to lead into the next (check out the pre-order package for a fun detail about that) and the next after that. Your support would mean so much to me.
SUPPORT ME HERE YOU LOVELY SOUL
One Day Eventually
I loved someone who gave less than they took,
and you were willing to love me better.
Under cover of fluorescent lights
and the smell of old books,
you were willing to kiss me back.
Between the creased spines,
we created lies and ruined lives.
Unwise to the fact
that we were plotting our own demise.
One year later
and we continue to move apart.
Further and further - you even left the city.
He says you can’t see me,
she says I seem… She can’t find the word.
I text you and you say what you always say:
“Of course,” it begins,
and then goes a little something like this
“You always seem to know when my life’s gone to shit. I shouldn’t talk to you right now. I’m afraid of how much I’d like it.”
You’re drunk.
I’m not, but I say I am a little too.
You’re nearby? Let me come get you.
-
You text me the next morning to say you made it home okay,
you’re sorry you stopped replying.
He says you can’t text me.
She says I seem tired.
Maybe in a year I’ll try it again,
or maybe one day we could finally be friends.
But I’m hoping that eventually…
We’ll both be single again.
A Tight Black Dress With Elbow-length Sleeves
Seriously wondering if I could rock a dress.
All back,
knee length,
tight around my chest.
Die my hair black and put it in a mohawk.
or just wear a hat -
do you think I could pull bald off?
Man, I’d look so ill, walking down the street -
All guys/all girls looking at me.
And I’d just stare back…
Unapologetically.
(I know that’s not a word, can you guess how I feel about it?)
There might be some laughs or even a little shouting,
but I don’t give a fuck, ‘cause Imma wear the shit out’it.
All eyes and all minds on me.
But I’m real self conscious, so it’ll have to have sleeves.
Hallucinating flying insects and shadows on the walls -
after everything you said last night, I didn’t sleep at all.
You painted me all sorts of things and I refuse to wash it off,
so I laze around un-showered seeking attention on the blogs.
Reflecting on my flaws.
Bittersweet Symphony is just a song that’s long
but it’s also a pair of words that make me think of love,
make me think of us,
make me break apart and shove all the memories away.
I use alcohol to forget and remember them some day.
But I hope that day’s not soon, I couldn’t bare to think about
thinking about you.
For reasons I’ll leave unsaid, I only fuck girls that look like you.
That’s not even true…
but when I eat it the way you liked… I’m only thinking about you.
I can’t believe you called me crude.
The Rhyme Breaks Down and Breaks Away/Shattered Glass/Mirror
Let me have some conversation
with past versions of myself.
I am so self deprecating -
lacking passion, not self doubt.
Words don’t come as easy
‘less they’re cheesy and I’m hurting some.
Or burning one, it’s rarely done
but I enjoy it on occasion.
I’d enjoy a nice vacation
less than a successful occupation.
Not behaving,
I’m just writing and I’m rhyming.
It’s a habit I can’t break.
So inviting to play with timing
give the flow a little shake.
'Cause I’m awkward and I’m learning
so my spoken word is messy.
It’s all chalked up, I’m a burden
but my reflections leave you guessing.
My reflections leave you guessing.
It’s all chalked up, I’m a burden
so my spoken word is messy
'cause I’m awkward and I’m learning.
Give the flow a little shake.
So inviting to play with timing,
it’s a habit I can’t break.
I’m just writing and I’m rhyming,
not behaving.
Less than a successful occupation,
I’d enjoy a nice vacation.
But I enjoy it on occasion
like burning one, it’s rarely done.
'Less they’re cheesy and I’m hurting some,
words don’t come as easy.
Lacking passion, not self doubt,
I am so self deprecating.
Hello past versions of myself,
let us have some conversation.






