Normal Human Being

by Justin Blackburn

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credits

released 31 October 2012

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about

Justin Blackburn Oklahoma

My name is Justin Blackburn and i am author and poet. This is a collection of performance poems entitled "Normal Human Being" Lots of these are from my latest collection of poetry "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com You can buy it and it will make your life better. Lots of wisdom. I love you. You are wonderful. I hope you love yourself. ... more

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Track Name: You Are Not A Normal Human Being
You Are Not A Normal Human Being

You are not a normal human being
I know you.
You know you
You have beautiful dreams you are fulfilling
You wake up everyday on the ceiling
And inspire your desires to radiate your feelings
You are not afraid to be yourself
Despite anyone else
You know who you are

You are not a normal human being
You are not the cheesy cliché character in the corner of the bar
Telling horror stories about how marriage is a dead dark dishcloth cemetery
You can get married and love your spouse forever and still be free
You can get a job, make lots of money, and not be a selfish, egoistical prick
No matter what happens to you, you can be happy
You are here to remember, not forget

You are not a normal human being
You do not suffer from the chaos of your own delusions
You are not ruled by the desolate confusion of other people’s illusions
You are not brainwashed by the mediocre mass media
You are the real heartfelt, breathing, bloody, soul filled essence of life
You are not a walking, talking robotic encyclopedia
You are a tender burning gentle loving light
You are not a television set glued to a graveyard
You transcend Middle America like a dark sky overflowing with bright stars

You are not a normal human being
You did not come to Planet Earth to work for green paper and die
You came to satisfy your soul, to search yourself whole,
You came to serve this beautiful world
You came to feel the joy of why

You are not a normal human being
You do not sit around all day gossiping the gospel from one tragic play to the next
You do not live your life for the sake of regret
You do not put your fellow brothers and sisters down
You do not waste your time
Your voice is a gentle, relaxing, indigo sound
That enhances and expands the space within everyone’s mind

You are not a normal human being
You are not afraid of your creator
You are not going to die and spontaneously begin an eternal burning
You are not waiting for a savior
You are here now and you are aware and you are learning
You condemn no one to hell
Instead you invite everyone into heaven
You understand and you are understood
You forgive and you are forgiven

You are not a normal human being
You touch the angels, you scare the demons, and you inspire the sun
You have no one to blame
You are not a normal human being
Why?
Because there is no such thing as one

This poem is from the book "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com
Track Name: Busy Day Of Ease
Busy Day Of Ease

Today is the day all my dreams came true,
walking round thinking bout that sweet lil gal
with that old sun shining my shoes,
today is the day I look at the sky shaped like your face
and know just why I forgive you,
children bicycling from dollhouse to dollhouse,
sparrows singing smiles across the avenue,
today is the day I awoke and knew just what to do,
I see what I love and what I see loves you.

Ain’t nothing we trying to do but be happy.
Ain’t no one we trying to love but ourselves.
The only reason I was bitter towards my father
was cause I didn’t think I was my own man.
The only reason I cried over my ex-girlfriend
was cause I didn’t think my mama loved me like I think she can.
Ain’t no place we looking for we ain’t been.
Ain’t no joke been told we ain’t already laughing in.

Today is the day all my thoughts realized they don’t even have to think,
dancing dogs dining diamonds down by the lake,
wild geese waddling and crapping along the bank,
today is the day my heart wakes just to give thanks,
talking ‘bout the weather with old elementary school teachers,
cracking Jesus jokes with funny southern Baptist preaches,
today is the day I picked up the heart I left underneath the bleachers,
a basketball bounced my way so I took a shot and missed,
a cardinal flew by my eyes to tell me my fly was unzipped,
today is the day I realized why we all exist.

Ain’t no angel gonna let you die alone.
Ain’t no road that ain’t gonna take you home.
Mr. Business Suit you way too cute not to be always shining
take off your shoes, your money ain’t worth nothing no more here,
go over there and give your brother a kiss,
you ain’t got no reason to be scared to be queer.
Ain’t no thing you can be that everyone isn’t already.
Ain’t no thing falling gravity ain’t keeping steady.

Today is the day I cash karma’s check and all my bills get paid on time,
got angels sending me a million messages today
and I’m catching every one of them with my mind.
Today is the day that makes me understand there ain’t no me that ain’t
mine, garage doors gently opening, cars dressed in proper gentleman
attire, frogs croaking and joking, friends giving me hugs that set me on
fire, today is the day I silence my voice in the rat race choir.

Ain’t no man I can’t run from with grace and ease.
Ain’t no woman that ain’t beautiful to me.
Native child dusky dream jewel just because I am white
don’t mean you have to act proper around me,
let your worldly fire fly, set your hungry motives free,
jump on my table, dance on my breakfast, pump your passion and scream!
Ain’t no place you can be you ain’t meant to be.
Ain’t no Justin Blackburn that didn’t say “love everybody!”

This is a poem from the book "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com

For an amazing, heart lifting, sky high live performance check out this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Xa8Q7NHmQI

Thank you. I love you.
Track Name: Learning About Women
Learning About Women


Tender, tender, tender touch,
naked tub of warm water bodies,
wide wonder wide sky open mouths.

My eyes shine her skin.
The future, the past, and the present breathe there.
Every war is won there.
Every star is born there.
Every animal runs free there.
Every man bakes cookies there.

Her jealous ex plots my death.
The boys in the bathroom brag about dirty sex.
The men in the bar offices check another nothing off their sadness.

Her smooth-tongued voice sinks all the knowledge of my heart
as the ship sets sail into the sunrise.
I realize I have learned the wrong thing a million times.
She puts my head underwater.
I allow her spirit to relocate my mind.
Inside her heavens I discover the ways of the wild wind to the woman.

I clear everything from under my mind,
breathing through feet
hands follow hearts
souls sparkle hair
ghosts touch face
misconceptions gracefully disintegrate.

"That's pretty, what is that called?" I ask,
"Clavicle," she laughs back.
Lips descend to neck.
Bodies vanish into air.

This poem is from an upcoming book out in Jan. 2013 "Child Be Wild" published by Inner Child Press.
Track Name: Child Be Wild!
Child Be Wild

Child be wild!
You are ahead of your time.
Take advantage of your innocence
with your smile,
discover your heart
and you will never have to search with your mind.

We do not need anymore of you to grow up.
We already have enough boring adults meandering around,
unable to get lost or found,
acting in grown up dramas during the day,
getting stuck in the play at night
unable to lift their dreams into flight,
waking up ruled by rules cold, starved, and lonely.

Child be seen!
You are the one and only person
who can create your dream life,
remember if someone is being mean
there is a great chance they are not right,
so never stop shining your light!

We need you out here in the ever changing world
to help us remember who were as little boys and girls
with pockets full of joy and eyes full of pearls.
Open our minds to the wide winged wonder
and run into our arms at the exploding sound of thunder.
You have so much to teach us yet so much to learn
and we have no reason to reject you or to ever be so stern.

Child be heard!
You can hear the songs
the flowers sing to the birds.
Award us your sweet voice
and share the words.
Give us your favorite color.

We are too caught up in the superficial politics of father and mother,
too drowned out in the lifeless arithmetic of sister and brother,
our imaginations can’t remember we are imaginary
so of course we are going to tell you the world is scary,
we fired our angels and stepped on our fairies,
we burned down the magical garden and turned it into a cemetery,
we took the world’s perfect beauty and made it a burden to carry.

Child be free!
We miss ourselves nervous
but only longing for our childhood memories
so help us by being yourself, letting yourself be,
and remembering no matter what we say
you are always perfect in every way.

It is from a book "Child Be Wild" coming out in Jan 2013 published by Inner Child Press!
Track Name: Unlearning Hitlerature
Unlearning Hitlerature

Jobs are for rednecks.
College is for cutie pies.
Money is impotent.
Problems are lies.
All people are lovable.
Judgments disguise.
All people are suicidal.
Stupidity tries.
Getting offended is awesome.
Feeling embarrassed is sweet.
It’s as easy said as done.
Anything is impossible.
I am an idiot.
Great minds don’t think.
Your God is whatever you want your God to be.
Politicians are the most popular porn stars.
Death is a disease.
Knowledge knows nothing.
Perception is everything.
Aliens are everywhere.
Everyone has angels.
Every pun is intended.
Every thought is infinite.
The world needs all her flowers.
It’s punk as fuck to love everyone.
The depth of our natural beings can drown any shallow story.
Some lesbians don’t need to use dildos.
Its so far out the way out is in.
White is the darkest color.
Every one normal is insane.
Everything works out perfectly.
Testicles are beautiful.
Compassion is key.
Emotional attachment is murder.
There is no road less traveled.
Every out is the easiest.
Everything you look down on you will fall into.
Everything you fear will be the reason for your death.
Track Name: The Taste Of Her Own Pussy
The Taste of Her Own Pussy

She liked the taste
of her own pussy
like a bird
enjoying the lyrics
to her own song.

She is gone,
and it is cold outside
and all I can think
is how pretty
I will never be
touching myself
thinking of her.

This poem is from a lovely unpublished collection "Amorphous Boyfriend Material" If you would like a copy contact me at justinblackburn111@yahoo.com Thank you.
Track Name: Cliche Poem To A Poet Poem
Cliché Poem To A Poet Poem

Write from your soul
eventually your soul will start writing from you.

If you do not have a soul don’t worry,
find the most masculine muscular man closest to you,
kiss him square on the lips,
after he beats your ass,
call your mother and tell her to write everything you say down.

Congratulations, you got your first poem.

For God sakes don’t stop there,
whatever you do don’t listen to your teachers
that is why they are teachers,
they don’t know shit
so they don’t know you.

The real poets are poets.
You won’t meet them until you become one
until then hang out in the forests, the alleyways, the wrinkled faces,
go fishing for birds, feed your stomach clouds, rip dollar bills off trees,
play football for the coach, study trashcans, and live in a yellow submarine,
hang around pretentious professors pretending you are incredibly deep
while making fun of yourself out loud in front of their family’s God.

You are confused.
Life is war to you.
That is perfect.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
No one understands you.
Great, you don’t understand yourself.
Don’t worry about it.
All you need to know is you don’t need to know.
Keep loving, keep fucking, keep sucking, keep living, keep giving, keep laughing,
most of all keep writing.

Realize the best poems are written by the air in the tragic part of the night,
by the waves of the ocean, through the minds of children, by the Beatles,
and on the Drive Thru menu at McDonalds.

Now that you know this see everyone is a poem, kindly write them.
If you find everyone criticizes you and thinks you are fucking crazy,
take it as a complement, that means you are on the path to greatness.

If you are not receiving the love you desire,
if you are finding yourself mediocre and bitter,
eating your way into winter.
Don’t kill yourself.
Smoke weed by the fire.
Take your pen to a book store.
Change the titles around.
Make a beautiful stoned hilarious poem of it.
Laugh at your poetry.

If that doesn’t work, find a person in a wheelchair.
See the overwhelming beauty in their preciousness.
Follow them until you have written fifty poems.

Once you got your poems congratulate yourself.
Now invite all your friends to a coffee shop to listen to you read them.
When no one shows up give your poems different personalities
and read them to the wall.
Now walk out of the empty room like Lou Reed.

You are doing perfect, now it is time to give your poems to everyone you can,
I am talking parents, gas station employees, the thunder, the lightening
I am talking hot chicks, famous fuckers, guilty prisoners, rising rivers.
Most importantly find the highest esteemed bullshit licking literary journals.
Send your poems there along with a letter to the editor explaining how every poem you write is because you want to fuck his son.

When you get the rejection letter glue it to the refrigerator,
buy yourself roses.

You have passed with flying colors!
Now it is time to find a lover.
Someone fifty times more fucked up than you are.
Someone who knows from the start the joke is on you.
Someone who can shit out your heart without ever tasting it.
After she fucks all your friends lay in the darkness for two straight weeks.

When you come out you will be broke, empty, talking shit to intimate objects
and exactly where you need to be ready to face the next demon head on.
For this part of the journey you will need the fungus that grows off cow shit.
Don’t be scared it is like pussy don’t think about the taste just let it become you.

Now the feeling you are getting
like there is more life than you could imagine
yet less then you could ever comprehend.
Write that feeling down, that feeling is the place to be.

Become the grass write about how grateful you feel to be walked on.
Become the wind write about how grateful you feel to kiss a tree.
Become the demon within write about how grateful you are to die.
Become the human being write about how grateful you are to ask why.

Now kiss the ground, fondle the sky, you are ready to love everything.
Now you understand the real reason you chose to be a poet.
It is a quick nonstop route to your spirit.
Now let everything be beautiful.
Now speak it, feel it, write it, live it, hear it.
You are apart of everything.
Nothing else matters.

I love you, young poet.
Take my advice or don’t.
I don’t give a fuck, either way.
It is your life.
Live it however you like.
I love your life regardless.
All roads lead to where no roads can go.
Namaste

This poem is from a collection Virgogray Press published in 2009 entitled "Farting Fire"
Track Name: I Retired From America In The Third Grade
I Retired From America In The Third Grade

Laying in the grass,
watching you sleep
it is not a mystery to me
why I am
who I chose to be.

It all seems to fit,
the way I bitch
the way the ambulance drives
the way fear eats me alive as if it loves my life
the way beauty grows from inside
the way I could have it anyway
as if I would not have it any other way
like a bird opening her mouth
like a beautiful song shining out.

I retired from America in the third grade
with one day’s worth of lunch money
and a box full of crayons,
wearing the sadness of a million angels,
drenched in the fear of a thousand liars.

I was never a child
crying in my mother’s arms,
I was always on fire like a star;
I was always in trouble like a storm.
I tried to have others kill me,
no one could,
my heart would never let me live
in the illusion of myself.

Since the day I was born,
my beauty has always been so heartfelt only mountains can stand it,
my love has always been so real only God can feel it,
my joy has always been so magical only mermaids can breathe it,
my sadness has always been so deep only stars can shine it,
my self has always been so me only I can express it.

The land lost inside your mind is where I was born,
don’t worry you are not my mother
just my creator,
you are not the result of my thoughts
just my savior.

This poem is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available on www.virgograypress.com
Track Name: The Life Of An American Plan
The Life Of An American Plan

When I was a child
my perfect plan was to lose my virginity
candlelight prom night
to everyone’s favorite limelight volunteer
Johnny American Straight A Football
at a Four Seasons listening
to “American Bad Ass” by Kid Rock.

Instead I was raped
on my thirteenth birthday
in a Michelin Building
by Tim The Tool Man Taylor
at a Jonas Brother’s Concert
listening to The Real Slim Shady.

It is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com Wow. Thank you.
Track Name: Being It
Being It

I live art.
I was never born.
I am dead.
I am a dragon.
My breath is my freedom.
I was never lost.
I bleed colors, grown ups, spit, spirits, and tar
until I can kiss my mother
on the mouth
without taking it too far
I am led
by death, mystery, poetry, comedy, and imaginary hearts.
I never cost a thing.
The world comes my way.
I can never die.
I was never dead,
never wounded,
aching in the summertime.
I am easy.
I live high,
exposed on all levels
to all galaxies, angels, oceans, devils, and curtain calls.
The sun is always in my sky.
I will never stand.
I will never fall.
No God created me,
never have I had a dream,
never learned a thing.
I was never named.
I am too real for you to feel.
I kiss what will never exist.
No woman alive is kind enough to touch me.
No man is intelligent enough to be aware of my existence.
I was never bought,
never had a thought,
never worn by skin.
I will never begin.
I am the prize behind door number infinity.
I will never end.
I am a child of the soul of the womb.
I am a flower who will never wither or bloom,
with the universal power
to unconditionally love
even you.

This poem is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virograypress.com
Track Name: Kicked Out Of The Orgy By My Girlfriend
Kicked Out Of The Orgy By My Girlfriend

Recently the great Satan himself has been showing up out of nowhere
to fuck me raw dog, straight up the asshole, in front of everyone,
no matter where I am.

The other day I was in line buying a ticket at the movies with my
girlfriend, Satan shows up, bends me over, and fucks all the fire out of
me. Everyone at the theatre laughed at the comedy occurring in front of
their eye except my girlfriend it turned her on.

Yesterday I was in the food court at the mall
and he fucked me right in front of the Chick Fil-A.
Everyone watched in silence, amazed, the cow finally began to spell words
correctly.

Do not tell my family
but I think I am beginning to enjoy it.

My girlfriend sitting pretty on Satan’s lap at an orgy,
my jealousy shows me to the front door,
and puts my pen to the page.

Let the world know I write poetry while the people are getting laid.
Let the world know I write poetry while my girlfriend is without me at an
orgy.
Let the people know Satan does not hold the keys to their shackles unless they are willing to learn how to pick locks.

This poem is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com I love you. Thank you.
Track Name: Break Up
Break Up

It took me 367 thousand years
to break up with her; and now,
I finally feel
dead.

As if the one lie keeping me
alive
out smarted me
from the inside.

How magnificent it feels
to have nothing to live for….
no reason to get out of bed
in the morning.

This poem is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com

.
Track Name: I Do Not Feel Like I Deserve Love
I Do Not Feel Like I Deserve Love

I do not feel like I deserve love.
My heart half assed me here.
My shadow burns me up.
I want to cry baby shampoo tears.

I do not feel like I deserve happiness,
still I eat carrots and run around the block,
still I yell and scream about how you should love,
still I refuse to kill myself or shut the fuck up.

So quickly I kiss the rose,
so furiously I melt the snow,
so unconsciously I breathe,
so harshly I try to think myself to know.

I do not feel like I deserve what I desire.
I am a mansion on the hill with dead kids inside.
I am an angry mob attacking one idiot liar.
I am the soft lips of a closeted homosexual afraid to kiss the gay loving
tears I cry.

I do not feel like I deserve myself
I am not delicate enough to be as beautiful as I am.
I am not wonderful enough to be as dumb as everyone else.
I am not strong enough for my thoughts to know who I am.

Love is all I ever wanted to be
but I am just so impatient, stupid, and weak,
all I can do is dream to die
and awaken from this deadly sleep.

This incredible poem I am performing is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com

This incredible song I am speaking over is "Crystal Ball Broken" by Coma Cinema from the album Blue Suicide. Wow, how amazing are they? Check them out! http://comacinema.bandcamp.com/
Track Name: Compassion For My Grandmother Lost In A Pharmacy
Compassion For My Grandmother Lost In A Pharmacy

Each western bone in her deserted desert dry body is an orphan
buried under dirt for centuries,
no one is searching
for her
face
like her father’s first catcher’s mitt.

It is as if her skin is dead
and her heart beats barely
by the sad thoughts in her head
that think she is still alive.

I drive her to the pharmacy to get her prescriptions filled.
What is left of her eyes lights up like a meth-head
who randomly finds his face on a hundred dollar bill,
a dead child in a candy store.

She looks up at me with a missing teeth searching smile,
“I need this for my nausea, this for my headaches, this for my
fevers, this for my
diarrhea, this for my decomposing skin”

“Grandma, what the fuck?” I hastily implore.
“You do not need any of this bullshit. Your
addiction to all these goddamn pills is
why you only weigh seventy five pounds, why you
can’t sleep, why you are depressed watching soap operas all day,
and why you are dying
a slow miserable death. This is what is killing you,
you need passion, joy, beauty, you
need life.”

“But Justin….” Sorrow sinks her long cylindrical shaped sailboat.


I look up at the pharmacist. “You are killing my grandmother, you new
world order illuminati machine servant of mediocre madness.”

I walk out to the car scared to death of my multi layered reality,
turn Coma Cinema on and wait…
wait for anger to leave my liver
for blame to swallow his teeth
for pain to jump off the cliff into the river,
I wait for the great gentle feather of compassion
to drop on to the hood of my car
while remembering my grandmother
chasing my childhood into the ocean.

How can the most beautiful people become sick enough to die?
Compassion for the fattest, stupidest, stickiest man alive.
Compassion for the prettiest girl with the most beautiful eyes.


This poem is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com
Track Name: Suicide Eyes Prettier Than Any Summer
Suicide Eyes Prettier Than The Last Days Of Summer

Will you meet me down by the riverside before you take your own life?

A dance floor will be waiting for us,
I will spread laughter all over your body,
you can splash water on my skin,
we will smoke cigarettes,
sing our favorite love songs,
and we will dance, dance, dance
like we have been given the gift of a second chance
even if we you do not want to take it.

If the sun’s bold light body appears,
if the night ends and you happen to go with it
I will kiss your face and say “I love you!”
then spend the whole day meditating as softly as I can
envisioning you in the holiest angel hands.

I hope you know when you are gone;
I am going to cry tears into every spider web,
scream my fears at every narrow head,
stand still in the light of death
and whisper "you are beautiful!"

This might be too much to ask
but before you go will you do me a favor,
will you please make it clear to me
how much you love me
Lately I too have been feeling
like an old broken Hollywood grandfather clock,
I can not stand that degrading feeling
especially when I know somewhere inside we are so alive together,
caring about each other like warm rain pouring on a forest fire.
Do not think twice.

I do not blame you
I have not changed much
since my teenage suicide pact with lust.
You can blame me though if you need to
I will still let you come to me in dreams,
we will be friends again,
it will be like you never killed yourself
and I never wanted you to myself.

When you are gone I promise you wherever you are
if you keep your eyes open
I will keep my heart on fire
and you can marvel at it from the otherside,
you can feel the joy of true love,
the peace the people on earth
could not give you enough of.

And if you are ever ready to come back to earth,
let me know through the wind’s midnight whisper
and you can come back as my daughter,
I will fill your world with knowledge
and love of your beauty
from the first day you are born.

If you decide to take your life,
I promise you will always be
in my heart and on my mind.

I love you so much.
I always have. I always will,
no matter the space you are trying to fill.
I honor you forever. .

This poem is from the incredible "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" at www.virgograypress.com
Track Name: Me And My Girlfriend
Me And My Girlfriend

We are just two scared kids
holding on to each other
for dear life, naked in bed
underneath warm covers
of uncertainty.

Snow falls inside us.
Our fear rises to meet it.
Gods move mountain slow.

All we can do is our best
to keep warm by the fire
of our love for each other
glowing in between the
beaten wings of our hearts.

We barely have a clue
to who each other is,
barely a clue
to who we are.

Questions climb the spiracle staircase of our minds…
Do we truly love each other?
Will we be together forever?
How will it end?
How did we come to be?

These two beautiful beings
with hearts as wide
as the differences they make
with wounds as soft
as the silence sparkling
in the night sky above,

holding each other
ever so tight hoping to
find love inside of the life
inside of each other,
hoping the seasons
will always know
where we need to go
and put us there together.

This poem is from a collection of unpublished material "Amorphous Boyfriend Material" if you want it, contact me justinblackburn111@yahoo.com Thank you. I love you.
Track Name: I Love You
I love you because I want to, because I need to, because I love myself, because it is the best way I know how to be for you, for myself, for the world! I love you because there is no one else like you, because I am here on this beautiful planet with you, because I am one cheesy dude!

I love you because I have been lonely, confused, hateful, tired, in need, in need to love you! I love you because I know how it feels to refuse to love you! I love you because the sun goes down and I am not afraid to cry in the darkness!

I love you because I forget the most important things about life all the time, because I am an idiot, because you are too! I love you because I will die, because you deserve my love, because I can feel the perfect beauty which is you!

I love you because I am alive, I will die, because you deserve my love, because I understand how hard it is to be human! I love you because your heart beats, because you breathe, because you have cheeks, because I can’t sleep, because I dream! I love you because you are a part of me, because of the infinite we, because I believe in you!

Think of the most ridiculous reason and I love you for that very reason! I love you because one time Abraham Lincoln envisioned a bagel for breakfast! I love you for no reason at all!

I love you because you were made ridiculed in middle school, because I was ridiculed in middle school, because silence told me to. I love you because I don’t want to be afraid of anything, I don’t want you to be afraid of anything, I love you because God loves you!

I love you because you love, because you find cats cute, because you make me smile! I love you because I am teaching myself how to, because I do what I want to do, because your beauty inspires me too!

I love you because you know why I should, because how could I not, because you because love is forever and we know it is from our soul!

I love you because we are in this together and have always been and will always be whole! I love you because my love is under my control and I choose the most beautiful life I can for us all because I truly love you!

----

Justin Blackburn is an Intuitive Inner Healer, Poet, Author, Comedian, and Director


www.justinblackburnlovesyou.com
Track Name: Evidence
Evidence

The gorgeous, exotic brown haired goddess angel holding my hand in the
passenger seat, the uneducated best friend midnight moonlight, Steven
Page’s voices singing from the broken radio, the police officer who died
for this highway, the life breathing, all of it is pure evidence to me that
God must love me or I must love myself or I’m doing something right or
I’m putting enough soul into my body down at the universe factory.
Of course depending on whose side you’re on…
it doesn’t matter much to me because I’m on my side…
the raw, make believe, super moon wet dark blue sky
pussy side… the evident side.

I don’t have to take a serious sip of coffee and think.
I don’t have to hire a psychic detective.
I don’t have to tell you a story.
I don’t need a scientist.
I don’t need to be told I have a big dick.
I don’t need a million dollars.
I don’t have to try to solve the murder of the missing ghost to know what
my heart desires most.
The evidence is everywhere.
The proof is in this feeling.
The killer is dancing naked in every open field.
The murder weapon is my spine.
What could you possible search for?
There is no need, no river like fire.
You are perfect God already. Why would God search for herself?
The trees have all my answers.
The burglar is always the truth and nothing can ever be stolen.
Lay your love lights inward. Love is unreally really real for real.
Destroy the seeker.
Be silent with me.

It is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com
Track Name: The Transvestite With Flowers In Her Hair
The Transvestite With Flowers In Her Hair

A grandma peeing in the ocean,
a college bro coming home from class
popping open a cool bag of potato chips,
crickets on ecstasy,
the transvestite with flowers in her hair.

Everything to me
can be beautiful
it seems
when I try
to put my finger on
how or why
the beauty
begins to lessen.

The truest beauty is in not knowing.
The purest beauty comes from the mystery.
The beauty is beyond being beautiful.

A grandpa brushing his teeth,
a soccer mom pulling over
to order a hot fudge sundae,
birds high on crystal meth,
the marvelous transvestite wearing a friendship bracelet.

Fear not yourself,
perfect people.

Everyone is beautiful! This poem is another zinger from the pleasing "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com
Track Name: College
College

In college I got stoned to cheat on tests,
sat on stairwells and used poetry as a bulletproof vest.
I pretended to be crazy so I did not have to fit in.

In college I would get shit faced, fucked up off speed balls
and run into the woods to talk to a tree like it was the girl from home I had to leave.
I missed my high school friends and drove around drunk.

In college I climbed rooftops at night to feel strange under stars, slept all day, watched Soap Operas all evening, and made out with ugly, fat chicks while listening to “Teach Your Children Well.”
I never had the heart to tell the actors they were acting.

In college during freshman math class I laughed, shit my pants, had an irrational, rigorous nervous breakdown, took all my clothes off, and ran around the parking lot baffled by Pi.
I was forced to move into the ghetto to live with my drug addict grandmother and go to community college.

In college I fucked random one night stand drunken sorority, slut girls
then cried into their arms exclaiming how deeply I desired to kill myself.
I screamed at spaceships far away and tried out for the theater.

In college I did not know too well when I met aliens, I hallucinated thinking angels were waiting for me outside my dorm so I huddled in a fetal position in the community hall shower for two days.
My parents picked me up and asked if I was on dope.

In college I talked shit to professors, wrote nonsensical stream of consciousness poetry thinking I was Bully fucking Collins, ate a lot of meat, did a lot of drugs, and had a gun pulled on me 40’s in the ghetto by Desert Storm Army Veterans.
I stole this sexy ass girl’s panties from the laundry room and masturbated with them.

In college I would go into other dimensions by dreaming, lived on a consistent diet of weed, mushrooms, acid, peanuts, and enjoying the comedy of the entire scene.
I walked around on train tracks and made fun of God.

In college I pretended to be sick so I could drink more codeine,
thought I had AIDS and never studied.
I smashed my television on the sidewalk and played chess.

In college I drank a ton of Purple Jesus Everclear Juice,
tried to jump a train but shit myself and passed out, woke up rained on with a hard on.
I dry humped girls on the dance floor and loved it more than you can imagine.

In college I listened to Blood On The Tracks for a liquidated two straight months,
made fun of my roommate when he wrote cheesy songs for chicks he was trying to bang.
I never learned how to play guitar.

In college I wrote wildly adventurous, imaginative, bizarre, short stories that never ended about a blind guy in a wheel chair looking for his contact lens.
I never found my contact lens.

In college I sang Beatles songs on the streets with my friends, demanded a cleaner ceiling in my roommate’s brain, and watched movies in my mind.
I threw away orders from my soul.

In college I drank lots of vodka, vandalized Christmas Trees, picked fights with people who wore knives, pepper sprayed myself and fell to the floor.
I thought life was fucked and believed in war and chaos.

In college I sucked on sweet virgin Christian tits, got prostitutes to come to my dorm room, and when they refused to fuck for free I got them drunk off cheap bourbon and watched them throw up on each other.
I asked hot ass stuck up sorority bitches on dates and got shot down.

In college I purposely smelled the shit of people from the Middle East, pissed in elevators, laughed at the Chinese, and freaked out every time I saw blind students walking across campus.
I found out my friend got raped and told everybody like I was Oprah.

In college I talked about the one from home that got away all the time to any sad idiot who would listen, came home every chance I got to argue with the sky.
I stayed up for days writing poetry about my imaginary OCD’s.

In college I occupied my time inside my mind, thought about having a daughter,
and acted like Arnold Schwarzenegger on the telephone.
I fell into a pile of shit and did not get out.

In college I hid my friend’s car in the woods for three weeks as a joke then parked it by her door so she couldn’t get out of her dorm room, and pretended to agree with the cop while in handcuffs in his office when he said it wasn’t funny.
I missed my family more than I wanted to say.

In college I tasted sex while girls smoked cigarettes, broke into a girl’s room and called her ugly because I hated myself, freaked out the freaks, and asked the dirty teachers for better grades.
I jacked off in front of my roommate.

In college I met wonderful ignorant students and threw up on them, fed those dirty pigeons money, and got the shit kicked out of me in the middle of the woods.
The beauty of Mother Nature scared me to death.

In college I wore a blindfold around for fun, laid on the concrete, fell asleep on benches, and asked stupid people stupid questions just to get my kicks.
I turned off the lights and woke up three days later.

In college I never cried with my broken heart putting clothes on a clothes line, hanging around pretentious people who did not know me, looking at their scared art, and pretending to understand it.
I let a witch live under my bed for a month.

In college I started a good old fashioned fight to watch people bleed, lost my virginity to my best friend’s older sister, got a black eye, and caught rainbow trout.
I was certain I knew who I was but I never had a clue.

In college it was always three am, eating pizza and guilt sandwiches for every meal, dying with the movement of every slow day ignoring the cry for love in other people’s bullshit problems.
This pretty girl and I played with her stuffed animals together and had a better time than when we fucked.

In college I danced when no one was around, fell in love with every girl I met, smoked crack and felt guilty because of my mother, stole books and sold them back to the bookstore, played drums with plastic forks in the cafeteria pretending to be homeless.
I made all the wrong choices that turned out to be right

This track is from a collection published in 2006 called "It's Hard To Get There When You Are Already There" available on amazon.com
Track Name: Everyone Is A Dreamer In This Mirror
Everyone Is A Dreamer In This Mirror

Everyone is a dreamer
in this mirror.
All the stars point in every direction,
shine for anyone who notices.

If you are happy and you smile
the mirror happily smiles you,
if you are scared in your dream
you dream yourself into a nightmare.

There are no thoughts or emotions out there
only what you choose to place upon it
for all form is completely formless
but I sure do think you look cute in your purple bonnet.

You might think you are a big deal
but to the mirror you are only staring at yourself,
you might even think you are real
but you are simply dreaming like everyone else.

Dreams won’t make you beautiful
only beauty will,
the mirror does not make you ugly
only the way you think you feel.

Perception is everything,
you are simply looking into your own projection.
Your mind is made up of nothing
but other people’s impressions.

How do your perceive yourself,
well boys and girls
that is how you see everyone else
and all the rest of the world.

This track is from "You Are Not A Normal Human Being" available at www.virgograypress.com
Track Name: My Savior
My Savior

My savior awakens through the sun
reading a dictionary by the pool
at an apartment complex where he does not reside.

My savior is tired and horny
but way too graceful to ask the pretty girl passing by
to fuck in the bathroom.

My savior quiets his rushing waterfall mind,
hardens his nipples due to insecurities he has with his man breasts,
looks up at the sky, brews the breeze, allows the sun to be his servant,
and understands why he calls karma darling.

My savior has worked four months in the past four years.
He has finished five books,
two of which are half assed published,
one of which got him in trouble with the US Government,
currently my savior is writing a book he is convinced will be Oprah’s favorite
and raise the awareness of the people of planet earth.

My savior is twenty five and lives at home with his parents.
His mother probably thinks he slightly retarded.
He masturbates an awful lot
and has kidney problems due to a slight fear of letting go of his childhood.
Every day he plays with angels.
Every night he drives around the empty golden headed dark deep streets playing air guitar
to This Is A Long Drive For Someone Who Has Nothing To Think About
pretending he wrote the album back in ninth grade.

My savior would love to get laid
but he knows God will let it happen when it happens.
Right now my savior is preoccupied with his seventeen year old muse Madeline.
He writes moonstruck poetry about their toothbrushes making out with each other.
He begins each poem with an “I hope I am not creeping you out” disclaimer
because a creepy old man is something my savior never wants to come across as
especially when all he really wants to do is hold her hand and smile.

My savior has nothing to hide.
He is an empty coloring book.
He hands the world crayons and lets everyone draw all over him.
If anyone draws outside the lines,
my savior smiles like a freshly baked banana nut bread.

My savior is not afraid to love you
and when my savior is afraid to love you, he is not afraid to tell you.
My savior will start a fight and try to dance his way out of it.
When my savior is about to get his ass kicked,
he will call himself a pussy and run away laughing like a little bitch.
My savior dips your ego in his soul and eats it.

Anytime my savior thinks negatively about anyone,
he knows he is only projecting his deep rooted pain upon another.
My savior knows his healing is your healing; his love is your love.

Sometimes my savior has a difficulty turning shit into love,
he walks around heavy and stinking, speaking in different languages,
asking people to clean his feet.

My savior can be quite pretentious and other times very ignorant.
My savior can go to a funeral and forget what death is
and then ask everyone why they are so sad?

My savior dresses like an alien, dances in department stores, hibernates in electromagnetic waves, and prays to end all human suffering.

My savior is filled with laughter in churches, harmony in temples, merriment in mistakes, and flowers in his heart.

My savior believes politicians to be hilarious, mathematics to be difficult, strippers to be flowers, and God to be love.

My savior makes people feel uncomfortable, beautiful, luxurious, confused, scared, wanted, relieved, remarkable, honest, and holy.

My savior buys alcohol for underage kids, ejaculates in lavish restaurants, meditates in graveyards, and loves every single person from the bottom of his heart.

My savior is genuine, scared, emotional, loving, incredible, compassionate, paranoid, pretty, unstoppable, and down right thankful to exist.
But only a fourth of the time does he realize he is my savior,
most of the time he thinks he is my slave, friend, enemy, grave, twin, father, lover.

My savior races rockets with Jesus, shops for frozen pizza with Shiva,
plays hopscotch with Joesph Campbell,
merges with higher love,
weaves a luminous bridge of light to his soul,
and breathes a golden glow from the top of his head
to the never ending bottom of his infinite universe.

My savior is here to save himself and can only save himself.


Check Out this hilariously amazing video for this poem from the book "Farting Fire" published in 2009 by Virgogray Press. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWFqTTpefc0
Track Name: Good Old Fashioned Saturday Night Rejection
Good Old Fashion Saturday Night Rejection

I can laugh.
I can celebrate.
I can piss people off.
I can awaken as a baby in your arms, as a sparrow with a song.
I can fly. I can dance. I can sing. I can love.
I hurt you me.
I hurt you me so.
I have been excommunicated from every church.

Fired from every job.
Ridiculed by every camera man.
Left dead by every dog.
Rejected from every college.
Cornered by every ghost.
Crowded by every thought.
Let down by every person.
Every celebrity thinks I suck.

I can laugh.
I can celebrate.
I can piss people off.
I can awaken as a baby in your arms, as a sparrow with a song.
I can fly. I can dance. I can sing. I can love.

This poem is from "you are not a normal human being" available at
www.virgograypress.com
Track Name: May You Always Be Blessed And Filled With Love And Joy
May You Always Be Grateful And Filled With Love And Joy

May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
while shopping for socks at Wal Mart.
May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
as your sister screams “you are a selfish asshole” to you on the phone.

May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
upon awakening naked and hungover in an ugly unknown’s bed.
May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
as your wife tells you she does not love like she used to.

May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
as the results come in, as the fire dies out, as the show ends.
May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
while at war, while at home, while watching yourself think.

May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
while confused and unsure of the point, while pointing your finger.
May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
while people read what you write and think it is bullshit.

May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
as the arguments erupt, as the opinions think they matter.
May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
in North Korea, in New Jersey, in Cowpens, South Carolina.

May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
as the canoe springs a leak and you sink to the bottom of the sea floor.
May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
as your best friend fucks your girlfriend and blames you for it.

May you always be grateful and filled with love and joy
when you do not know how to always be grateful and filled with love and
joy.

this poem is also from You Are Not A Normal Human Being available at www.virgograypress.com