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 The Pugilistic Writer's Profile |
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| Age: | 35 years old |
| Sex: | Male |
| Location: | Hell-A, California |
| Country: |  United States |
| Height: | 6' 0" |
| BodyType: | Athletic |
| Zodiac: |  Capricorn (Dec 22- Jan 19) |
| Last Login: | Mar 2, 2008 (648 days back) |
About Me |
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WORK. WORK. WORK. NO TIME FOR THE BULLSHIT! NO The word 'no' is a powerful word. It haunts me. I'm in the best shape in my life, but 'no' puts a submission hold on me. It's hard to escape from it. It's easy to say 'no'. It's lifes easy way out. You say 'no' with a smile and walk away. You leave me feeling old. Hearing the word 'no' everyday ages me. It does! It drops a noch of confidence each time. Until I'm filled with doubt. Paranoia. Who's that looking at me in the mirror? (????) Recognize myself in a crowd of strangers? I cannot. 'No' erases my identity to the world. And I walk among you, invisible. You see right through me. With blank expressions. As if I'm a curse or a burdon to you. Another word I hate is 'Bill'. I see stacks of 'bills'. Everywhere are 'bills'. I have a phd for paying 'bills'. Old 'bills' collecting dust, paid. Mountains of them, stacked. All over my apartment. An enemy I can't beat. A ghost that I can't See. Feel. Touch. Taste. Smell. Hear. If I could fuck it, I would. Faithfully. They arrive in my P.O. Like a holiday card. Not a welcoming, but a pale white envelope(s). Waiting to be opened and sent off to charity. A collector of currency. A fee to live in a state. Where I'm not welcomed. Where am I welcomed, in a place where that name does not exist? Not in this fuckin' planet! ------------------------------------------------ 12/2/07 Cold, clean breeze from the pacific. The warm sun upon my face. Now I gotta go to work. Copyright ?2007 Mike Duffau ------------------------------------------------ As she held me, I felt secure. Her embrace made me feel, Like a child, the memories came back. I never want to leave. I sanked deep in the abyss, Of a Mother's womb. Tension! She says. I hold too much of. She cried! A tear touch my chest. As she held me, I died. I felt secure. Pain of life, gone. Finally, I can rest. As she held me, I felt her suffering. I miss you, she says. I'm right in front of her. As she held me, She felt secure. As she held me, Both of us, secure. Copyright ?2007 Mike Duffau ------------------------------------------------ Christmas is here again. Workin' all year for a one time, Compensation of service. Cookies. Brownies. Fruit baskets. All very nice and sweet. None of which pays my rent. Buddy Schwartz, in unit 1104. Gave ONE Christmas card, For the entire staff. You represent all jewish, Cheap, bastards. The years of opening doors. Carrying groceries. Delivering packages. Bring cars. Park cars. Slavin', turning grey before, My eyes. All I have to show for the hard work, Is... Cookies, Brownies, Fruit baskets, Flushed down your, Solid gold toilets. Copyright ?2007 Mike Duffau ------------------------------------------------ I driven them all... Mercedez. Bmw. Jags. Porsche. Rolls. Bentley. Ferraris. Aston martins. Lexus. Range rovers. Caddys. Lincolns. Audi. Saab. The list is endless, as I drive, Your blood money rides. To the rightful space. I park. I pretend. For a moment. Drive me out of poverty. Miles on the odometer Never age. Exterior, smooth. Interior, detailed. These rides live better than me. Four-wheel babies. If it had a piece of candy, I'd steal from it. I leave this craddle on wheels. To baby-sit another... And another... Until my shift is over. Copyright ?2007 Mike Duffau ------------------------------------------------ |
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My Background and Lifestyle |
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| MaritalStatus: | In a Relationship |
| Ethnicity: | White / Caucasian |
| Education: | Some college |
| Occupation: | Writer/Film-Maker |
My Blog |
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The Chosen One |
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| It's not a way to live a life.
Failure upon failure.
Something has to give.
I do two things well.
I fight and write.
And not paid for either one.
Love of art, pays not the bills.
I've paid my dues.
I ... Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Fri, 14 Dec 2007 10:54:00 PST |
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Comforted |
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| My own blood alienated me.
He's a sell-out.
I raged, and now he's not family.
She held me.
I'm warm.
The warmth of her breath, said.
I love you.
Copyright ©2007 Mike Duffau... Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Fri, 14 Dec 2007 08:53:00 PST |
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check me out on...WWW.IMDB.COM |
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| http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1669946/ Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Fri, 07 Dec 2007 10:33:00 PST |
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<untitled>rain |
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| http://www.postpoetryonline.com/poetry.cfm?id=4607... Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Fri, 07 Dec 2007 06:22:00 PST |
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Broowaha articles |
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| The Road Less Traveled
http://newyork.broowaha.com/article.php?id=2619
Moon The Loon
http://newyork.broowaha.com/article.php?id=2599
Gold-Diggers
http://newyork.broowaha.com/article.php?id=2559
Man an... Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Thu, 06 Dec 2007 08:34:00 PST |
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Uniform |
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| http://www.postpoetryonline.com/poetry.cfm?id=4606 Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Thu, 06 Dec 2007 06:49:00 PST |
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F-Off! |
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| http://www.postpoetryonline.com/poetry.cfm?id=4605 Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Thu, 06 Dec 2007 06:48:00 PST |
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The Cheat |
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| I was at a buffet for dinner.
What a wonderful selection to choose from.
Beautiful women to eat.
Some with small firm breasts that are perked with pleasure.
Some with a firm huge diameters that quen... Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Thu, 06 Dec 2007 06:41:00 PST |
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Dementia |
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| I lose when I forget.
I lose every time that I forget.
I forget my brain if it wasn't in my head.
I forget about you if you don't remind me.
I'm sick of forgetting.
I forget my past and where I came f... Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Thu, 06 Dec 2007 06:36:00 PST |
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Down With Humans |
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| People should be on the verge of extinction.
I don't care what you say!
It's claustrophobic.
Crowds of humans.
To many faces.
In too many places.
The sight of a single human terrifies me.
I look left... Posted by The Pugilistic Writer on Thu, 06 Dec 2007 06:26:00 PST |
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My Friends |
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THE FACE OF AMERICA, MALANI, Chuck, Jake, ronald, Mike, Jason, THE ALMIGHTY, BORN UNDER A BAD SIGN, Sarah Rieman, Bon Scott, Henry Rollins, Jake Lamotta, Rocky Marciano, Rocky Marciano, Sugar Ray Robinson, Henry Armstrong The triple crown king, Jack Johnson, Max Baer, Harry Greb, Stanley Ketchel, Jim Braddock, Joe Louis, Smokin' Joe Tribute, Roberto Duran, ©Official Mike Tyson Fan Page, charles bukowski, Charles Bukowski, Buk, The MySpace Poet Society, The Onion, Susan Masino, AC/DC Biography!, BrooWaha Looking For Bloggers in major US Cities, Suburban Fiction.com, jg, Al Caponeâ„¢, Keith Moon, Keith Moon, │║▌║█║▌║, Bennifer, Sea Jay,Lamb and Cattle Theif ! electrotronificon, Walter Ensign, Pipped At The Post Productions, Darryl, Brandon Ford - Horror/Suspense Writer, Rusty Leigh, delivering is my forte, BONESHAKER, merce, ladybike, norm, Pop ARF â„¢, Rayon, ‡My Mind is Turning on Me‡, Boxing Web Of Fame, John Everson, TeLl Us A jOkE-FuNnY MaN!, christos, II BIG, Janea University, IHatePeople
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Tags |
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The Pugilistic Writer's profile has been tagged with the following keywords. Click a tag to search for profiles with the same tags. mothers womb, crowd of strangers, blank expressions, clean breeze, writer writer, collecting dust, holiday card, warm sun, burdon, film maker, abyss, paranoia, stacks, caucasian, bullshit, curse, embrace, ghost, charity |
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