Let’s Bring Down the Mood…

Shuffling_Humbly_Bac_Cover_for_KindleIt’s Monday.  I’m worn out.  And y’all in the Goose Army know that when Tubbly is worn out, my blog posts are lazy. as. hell.  However, today I’m going to do something a little more special, even though I’m being lazy.  For those of you that have followed my writings in the past, you may be aware that I released a book of poetry called “Shuffling Humbly Backwards”.  It’s currently out of print–but you may remember it if you were one of the 6-and-a-half people that bought it (don’t ask me how that’s possible–midgets maybe?).  I was really proud of the book, and put my heart and soul into it–as well as a decade of poetry writing.  Anyhoozles, it garnered enough attention, that I had made plans to release another book of poetry that was going to be titled “Eventually Never Came”.  That never happened.

Eventually_Never_Cam_Cover_for_Kindle.jpg That was the planned cover right there.  In case you were wondering, that’s my friend Dalton on the cover there.  I snapped that picture while he was crawling around on top of rocks at Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, Colorado.  He was a good sport in that he was going to let me use this picture for when the book was released.  I think he thought it’d make him famous–even though you can’t see the fucker’s face in the picture.  Oh, well.  Doesn’t matter.  In the final countdown to the release of the book, things fell apart.  People that followed me were a little disappointed, and I couldn’t blame them–some of them had actually preordered the book, yet they would never be getting it.  Don’t get me wrong–I didn’t get their money or anything–but they went to all the trouble without getting a copy of the book of poetry that they had been hoping for at the time.  Can’t lie–I felt really bad about it–but such is life.  Sometimes you just don’t get what you want–and I feel your pain.

So…as a way to apologize for that situation, and maybe make up for some of it, I decided to post a few of the poems from “Eventually Never Came” here.  Enjoy (I hope…)!


Call me my movies.
Call me my songs.
Call me any organization to which I belong.
I’m a romantic tragedy.
A harmless pop ditty.
Clean and anal and fashionably gritty.
Call me my books.
Call me my friends.
Call me all of those undeniable trends.
I’m a poorly written mystery.
A collection of old tales.
Travelled and journeyed and ready to set sail.
Call me my lies.
Call me my truths.
Call me a pair of tap dance shoes.
I’m a forgotten story.
An unspoken word.
Walled in, leashed, caged like a bird.
Call me my sheets.
Call me my drapes.
Call me by any name that escapes.
I’m a rough cotton.
A hanging, wrinkled shroud.
I’m everything you’re scared to say out loud.


Hot Damn Mess

That’s the whole issue I guess.
The reason behind this hot damn mess.
I fall in love too quick and I fall deep.
But not a single lover I keep.
They all decide I’m not an ideal mate.
Then they realize they love me too late.
For when I’m spurned my heart can twist.
When rejected, I lose interest.
Don’t give me time to see your imperfections.
Then all I’ll see in you is complications.
Then no words or love will change my mind.
I’ll leave all those words and love behind.
My heart will break.
Decisions I’ll make.
Dreams I’ll dream, too.
Not a single one will involve you.
I’ll grow a bit sad.
Lose the ability to be mad.
How tortured I am, I must confess;
I’m the reason for this hot damn mess.


My World

All alone, this is my world.
This is my world, all alone.
You sit comfortably beneath illuminated death.
Set traps and let them spring.
Believe that foreign is inferior.
And say “this is my world.”
All alone, this is my world.
This is my world, all alone.
Import endangered species casually.
Buy knick-knacks from broken homes.
View movies about taking action.
And say “this is my world.”
All alone, this is my world.
This is my world, all alone.
Eat organic and your stomach aches.
Go hybrid and double up.
Build fences and tear down monuments.
And say “this is my world.”
All alone, this is my world.
This is my world, all alone.
Bottle water and give it value.
Recycle air and deem it clean.
Patch the ozone layer and call it fixed.
And say “this is my world.”
All alone, this is my world.
This is my world, all alone.


White Rabbit

They say that I believe in magick.
And I pray to schizophrenic gods.
They say I kneel before cardboard shrines.
And live in crystal houses.
But they toe the line and jump at the wind.
And tell lies about inconsequential things.
They fix their smiles and grit their teeth.
And bite their tongues until they bleed.
They say that I’m a back alley preacher.
And I proselytize about white rabbits.
They say my pulpit is full of glass shards.
And these cuts are superficial.
But they poke my wounds and roll their eyes.
And tell me to make more magick.
They shove a wand into my shaking hands.
And then tell me to calm down.
They say I can pull a rabbit out of my hat.
And make it hop on command.
They watch the show and hope for tragedy.
And roll their eyes when it ends the way they hoped.


Eventually Never Came

He said I should be a writer instead of a shrink.
Then wrapped me up in smiles and a wink.
I have wounds to be licked and fears to be fed,
By all of these characters that live in my head.
The dancing has just begun and the noise never stops.
Peace only comes when the other foot drops.

He said ‘you’ll eventually get over this, so why not start now?’
Then wrapped me up in smiles and a wrinkled brow.
I have insecurities to be soothed and lies to be told,
By all those tongues that I hold.
The noise never ends and the road goes on forever.
Everything’s possible when you never say never.

I waited all alone outside that coffee place;
As the wind made my eyes water and burned my face.
I had things to say and lies that needed to be laid to rest.
And things to do that were for the best.
Waited and prayed that he wanted the same.
But eventually never came.


Until next time…