Poetry - nickflash.net

Remember to laugh

February 23rd, 2012

Don’t forget to laugh my friends, don’t forget to smile.
Every year the fashions change, but a frown’s never in style.

No matter how busy we are, or how busy we get,
There’s always time for a good laugh, so please don’t you forget.

Share a laugh, tell a joke, don’t keep them to yourself.
The more we laugh, the better we feel, cause laughing’s good for the health.

Sometimes it’s inappropriate, some laughs I can’t condone,
But who am I to say what’s funny? I say, “to each is own.”

You can laugh at people falling down, or even getting getting hurt.
You can laugh when people spill spaghetti, on their brand new shirt.
You can laugh when someone farts or burps, if that’s what you must do,
But just remember that it’s funny, when the same things happens to you.

The more serious you take things, the more that you’ll be stressed,
The more time that you spend laughing, the less you’ll be depressed.

So don’t forget to laugh my friends, whatever the time and place,
Any time’s a good time, to put a smile on someone’s face.

———————————————————-

Photo by: Lex Hernandez: 8mts.com

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It used to be fun.

December 29th, 2011

This used to be fun. It still is, to some.

To me its routine. Different clubs, same scene.

Day out and day in, Stay out or stay in?

Get high or get low? Smoke weed or do blow?

Get drunk or stay sober? I just never know.

Should I bring 7 girls or 6 girls? 5 girls or 4?

Any less than that and I can’t get in the door.

As long as your stylish, as long as your rich,

as long as your pretty, its cool to be a bitch.

It might seem superficial, might seem kinda fake,

some days I think “how many more nights can I take?”

I could wake up to someone, I could wake up alone.

I could wake up hungover, with drunk texts in my phone.

I could wake up somewhere that I don’t know where I am,

I could wake up to a model, who cooks me green eggs and ham.

But most likely it’s someone who I’ll have to tell “scram”,

God damn. Is this the person I really am?

Posted in Nightlife, Poetry | 1 Comment »

Cereal Isle

February 3rd, 2011

Every time I’m in the grocery store, I have to stop at the cereal isle. Even if my pantry is stocked full of cereal, I still make it a point to browse.

Poem-

“I’m always looking for something new, a cereal that I’ve never tried.
But there so much cereal to choose from, It’s so hard to decide!

There’s Captain Crunch, Golden Grahams, Cookie Crisp and Smacks.
There’s cereal I eat for breakfast, and some I eat as snacks.

There’s Cheerio’s with Honey Nut, there’s Cheerio’s with frosting.
There’s so many freaking’ Cheerio’s, picking one can be exhausting.

When I’m leaning toward the healthy side, there’s just a few I’ll eat,
Like Quaker Oatmeal, Kashi Flakes, and Kellogg’s Shredded Wheat.
But when I’m feeling like a kid again, and craving something sweet,
Lucky Charm’s or Coco Puffs, just cannot be beat!

There’s cereal that’s made of bran, there’s some that’s made of oats.
There’s cereal with marshmallows, and some with frosted coats.
There’s cereal with raisins, even clusters of nut and honey.
But no matter what it’s made of, It’s the best way to spend my money!”

—-

I met a beautiful blonde in the cereal isle that day, she said she eats Honey Bunches of Oats every morning. I can’t see myself with a girl who eats the same cereal all the time. Ohh Well, moving on.

Photographer- Ptah Quammie Model-Heather Allsup

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The Day after St. Patty’s day

February 3rd, 2011

The day after St. Patricks day, is always very blurred.

I can never quite remember, all the event’s that had occurred.

I wake up in the morning and I say, “What the hell was I thinking?”

And then I tell myself, “This is the last time that I’m drinking!”

Although I had alot of fun, wearing green and drinking ale,

Now I’m just hungover, feeling sick and looking pale.

I thought I met a Leprechaun, but now I take that back.

It was really just a midget, who bought me a shot of Jack.

I thought I found a lucky charm, but now that I am sober,

I realize it’s my marijuana, and not a four leaf clover.

I thought I met a college girl, who showed me her tit’s and fanny.

But, in all reality, it was really just her Granny.

So I don’t think that I’ll drink again, well, not until next year.

Ahh, Fuck it! What am I saying? Give me another beer!!

—-St. Patty’s 2010—–

Photo & Poem by Nick Flash

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