This happened last Monday aka yesterday. [Pictures soon!]

I don’t know where I am or how I got here
But I fear I now have Alzheimer’s.
Was it the bandoliers of beers I wear
       or is my time simply near?
Still, I’ll probably feel a little more clear with wine 
And oaken soak in my belly
And no one dare tell me 

I am ill,
bent up, and I spent too much
Last night
With forgotten delight
On distorted bets
That I now 
foggily regret,
My mind-boggingly swinetastic actions
Caused confused reactions and
Might have cost me my last abstract transaction.

I couldn’t help but let my snootstatic-erratic Tapiric
friend out from the zoo.

With a little lockpicking voodoo
my very weird dancing Tapir tattoo
Came too true,
The fright on their blurry faces
From my slurry wordy embraces
And the Tapir’s nostril kisses
Was a moment of pure obscure bliss.

Only for me, as the people struggled to understand
Why a South American frustrated Ungulate
Was my best mate, out staggering on the streets.
The Tapir and I’s night made my life finally feel complete,
This peaceful perisso-dactish sort
even got me something of a bucket for when I chucked up,
either that or it was a cart or carriage
From somewhere. Someone.
I couldn’t manage
what was still in there.

I think I will call this Tapir,
      Sir Turducken
After my one true love,
Early Thanksgiving,
Even the thought gives me cravings
For a bit of a feast,
Am I a mental tryptophan beast?!
My night’s motivation fits like a glove,
Sitting above the sewers
With skewers of matter
of something good for all of us, I swear…

I will tell people the Tapir disappeared.
Please ignore the meat scraps in my beard…

Are my eyes open or
are they closed?!
I am pretty sure, nobody knows.
Going to sit here, root and grow
Until the cold dew of this bench awakens me,
And I have to face my own screwed stew of new reality.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Well, today was not so pleasant

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"My Letter to Ray Fremont, Jr., Poet"



I first discovered your work on and then made my way to your website. I like your Cue Ball poem. I think you have a good sense of irony (perhaps too weird, but I have no problem with that!) I feel you need to add more sex to attract the masses-perhaps a nude picture or something.  Since we both are in the same boat maybe I can publish you and you publish me and we can put one of those books out that you flip over; you know the type where my book is upside down at the end of your book?  That would be better than a Spanish version/English version like they usually do. We can get filed in the various authors section of Waldenbooks. It will be like when Nirvana put out a 45 record (limited edition difficult to find and extremely valuable especially if one of us dies).  Wouldn't it be funny if say you did die and since we had this combined poetry flipbook out all the people at the New York Times Book Review or some girl at Poetry Magazine came and interviewed me asking me questions about you, but since I don't even know you I could make up this cool stuff about you and you could become some sort of 21st century legend.  I don't know how old you are but I bet Leonardo DiCaprio could get back to being typecast as a good actor who plays troubled or retarded teens or poets rather than these stupid action romance heroes. You may enjoy my poetry site also so I have added a link. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 



Response from Raymond M. Fremont Jr:


Okay Poetryguy,  I'll play your little game.  Sharing eh?  Okay, I'll put a link on my page for you and you for me.  All the Great American pastime of sharing democracy, the clap, feelings, free firewood.  Okay Poetryguy, I'm down and out.  I'm with you.  By the way,  I don't like your hypothetical [idea] of me dying (even though the Leonardo DiCaprio idea is H-o-double-T hot).  You seem old, how about you die?  We'll introduce Sean Connery...dashing Debonair, old.  What do you say?  I dig your work. 

Raymond M. Fremont, Jr. 

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Bizarre Dream


I dreamt last night a sweetest one

Walked down the road with someone

Someone I knew from the past

But I had met only twice


I don't know what's your name

I can't tell why it came

But it all looked true to me

It was a fantastic scene


We were telling stories as we walked

We were laughing truly as we talked

We looked at each other now

Everything went silent now


Suddenly, you got so serious

Your sad stare was so mysterious

I asked you, "What's wrong?"

You replied too long


I woke up asking myself

Why we walked alone in my dream

Your name never rang a bell

But my dream looked so true to me

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   I stand there in a cloud of smoke,
Dropping from amnesia, Sunday afternoon,
Looking for a way out or I am already at the exit?
Is it a fucking lie or reality beating me hard?
Talking crazy, to find a symphonic voice…

Distress is the name of the game,
Sunny day, popping sweets,
Craving sugar, craving poison,
I forgot my name and number,
Help me out to know, who I am?

If only “I was”, come to my mind,
Take years away, to be back on the same dirty bed,
Where sheets are made of dollars!
Young flesh, a £ for a little piece of me,
I can make it hot…

Performer or ghost of the past,
Bloated, sucking on pills,
So I can be again the cracker,
The one who used to make the show,
The one, who felt on the stage dead cold!

Amnesia, don’t know my name,
Forgot time or food/ drink,
Everybody’s can do it,
So I take one more to help,
Peace at last, oblivion is close…


Author's Notes/Comments: 

lost today

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Recurring Urges

It's happening all over again tonight,
These urges persist no matter how much I fight.
I know it would be a terrible deed,
Though eventually the demon will be freed.
Would it satisfy me at all I wonder,
The same feelings, do other men stop to ponder?
I fear I'm different, sick in the head,
Toss and turn as I lay in this bed.
I close my eyes, but still see the mirage.
At my last nerves these cravings barrage.
Later will be to late so Ill apologize now instead,
I cant fight these feelings, tomorrow you'll be dead.


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Eyes Set To Kill

-Its early morning and I'm across the street watching,
Only you don't notice me.
I've had my eyes on you for sometime now,
Yet to you I am invisible.
I know your routines and every move you make,
And still theres nothing you know of me.
When you leave I sneak into your home and learn the layout,
You return and remain oblivious to this all.
Tonight however, will be different as I become visible.
You'll finally see me, your eyes flashing with confusion and fear.
Sneaking in the back door as you sleep,
Your dreams about to become a nightmare of reality.
Slowly I creep into your room and watch you,
Hearing the door open your confused eyes open.
My adrenaline pumps as I think of how to do it,
Your questioning screams falling death to my ears.
Quickly I lunge myself atop you tightening around your throat.
Your body tries to fight me off but its no use.
Stopping as life flees from body, I begin to become aroused
Looking over your naked corpse I finally get what I've been wanting.
Making passionate love to your empty vessel I scream into the night,
Leaving you for someone else to clean up the mess.

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Dinner Plans

-I planned tonights dinner in your name,
now that you've arrived, we play my favorite game.-

-Getting you to relax I pour us some wine,
socializing a little before we dine.-

-Leading you to a painting to divert your eyes,
A hit to the head as you fall unconscious with no cries.-

-Shaving away all the hair,
I stop and upon my meal I stare.-

-Delicately I run my knife through flesh,
Dipping meat into spices so the flavors mesh.-

-As the smell of human meat fills the air,
I can only smile, without a care.-

-Setting this lonely table for two,
I look upon my plate and only see you.-

-As the I take the first bite,
I can only thank you for joining me this night.-

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Its Maunday Thursday. "Wash mye feet replace the socks with meat leave the dime a tip", he said it with a smile like lisp. "Its not Monday", she replied. She went on to say "my yesterday was Wandsday" and she is not thirsty. "Eye am not a dime", she said it strong. "Dont you call me a dime." (Dame) Edna. "Its the Last Supper anyhow", he said it with a smile like twist. "Oh no she cried we will eat again." "We are not pagan." "We can eat anything cause we are Christian." "Eggs and eggs and more eggs cause that Bunny Hopped around." Christian apology for paroday. "Let me have mye way with you mye Dear", he said it with a smile so clear. And when the Rabbit died the Lord was born. (Inn many poor tenements and outhouses). Mandatum is where we get Mandate from and datum is where we get data from and we get plenty data from a Mandate dont we minions. You took an oath they cried but there is no money in the pledge box we cry. Eye can raise my arm and pledge a lot but paying is something else come what may come what might be a hard thing to accomplish sometime. There is eggs in all mye pocketses. "Let me marry ewe and make an honest woman out of ewe" he said it with a smile so broad. She said, "my Husband already did that when he gave me our wedding band." "What kind of band did play at your wedding," he said it with a smile and also said he was thirsty. "A soap box with a derby on some spoons and one guy tarred." "We have some wine to share its grape for you and white for eye." "He cried." He said it with a smile with all that egg upon his facebook page he cant delete he cant erase and so he cried there for a while a aaa large disgrace." On MaundyThirsty day in April.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

this was first poem eye made for April poem a day challenge

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The Other Woman?

My happiness and my sadness

seem completely entangled

in one big messy emotion.

My love for you extends beyond

the depths of any ocean.

Our love is neverending.


The best gift I was given in life.

Yet now I'm understanding

the love you have for "your wife".

Never can I replace your love for her.

Yet you've treated me as

the brightest star in the heavens.

The only star in this sky.

My heart dearly yearns

to fight for you.

But my soul keeps asking "why?"

Why must I battle

for a title I already own?

Why when we're together

I'm feeling as if I'm alone?

She calls you, so you flee.

As if her outcries mean the end.

The end of all life.

As if you MUST race over

to attend to this "wife".

Leaving me for her.

Leaving me alone once more in the shadows

to ask the question.

Should I really need to ask for her blessing?

Should I sit here in this silence,

while respecting your love for her?

While my heart has time to recover?

Atleast before you marry me,

Baby, please divorce your mother.  

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Self explanatory.... Some of you woman out there may know what I'm talkin bout. =}

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