Generated Poetry: The Formulation of Love

I’m on this kick where I use a word generator to give me 6 random words that I incorporate into a poem. I imagine I’ll be posting many of these, so bear with me (or not…. this is my website after all. So if you don’t like this, fuck you, go somewhere else to read garbage poetry that stinks more than mine!)

Generated words: Afternoon, Imposter, wept, Serum, Formulation, Deplorable.


The formulation of love can be rather tricky

It suffers from a deplorable lack of compassion

It’s also often ironically witty…

A cure-all serum does not exist

Safe for the hours in the afternoon I’ve wept

Over memories of when I was last kissed.

I feel like an imposter in my own head

Pretending I don’t have these memories

Of you, me, and our love you killed, dead.



For more spontaneous stupidity, follow my twitter @JoyPearson

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Word Generator Inspiration

Lately I’ve had a desperate need to write, but I suffer from a lack of inspiration these days. To give myself a kickstart, I used a random word generator online to give me a set of six words that I would then craft into a poem. The words I received were ‘extract’, ‘betrayal’, ‘contagious’, ‘messenger’, ‘union’, and ‘smart’. 

Using these six words, I came up with the following poem:

To extract thoughts and ideas from my mind

Seems so impossible, I take it as a sign.

A betrayal from my hand to my brain

A tenuous union that’s driving me insane.

If I were smart, I’d find hobbies more contagious

Things I can do that will be more advantageous

Someone get a reliable messenger for my hand and head

Before things remain silent, sadly left unsaid. 

For more poetic ridiculousness, follow me on twitter @JoyPearson

Clair de Lune, the clouds, and a joint

I feel so low and small, but in the best possible way. I’m sitting in my chair listening to a piano playlist, I’m staring out my window and watching clouds change into multiple shapes as they past by. I feel so happy to enjoy the uncontrollable, untouchable natural beauty of this planet and galaxy. There’s so much media to distract us from the world outside that has been here long before we were, and will continue to reign long after we pass.

A cloud just past by, it started out as a caterpillar. Then it slowly changed into an elephant, who smiled so wide that it made me believe it was happy. Then it turned into a pointing chimpanzee, which was a rather uncomfortable transition as it involved the trunk of the elephant detaching. Then the monkey became a boxing bear, before the cloud disappeared all together.

If you think I’m stoned, you’re not wrong. I smoked part of a joint earlier to calm some frayed nerves after overcoming anxiety earlier. Any person with social anxiety will understand the sheer amount of nerves it takes to explore uncharted social territory for the first time.

I have never mailed a package. I’ve never been to the post office alone, in the past I’ve gone with my mother or father, nowadays I go with my boyfriend when he’s around. Going by myself has never been an option for me. I always went with other people so they could do the talking for me, I was always terrified I’d do the wrong thing and look like a complete moron in front of strangers (why does this matter to me? It doesn’t, but my bitchy anxiety makes it matter…).

Thanks to my professional procrastination, I had to mail out a cheque this morning for renter’s insurance (YAY ADULTING!!!!) and couldn’t find my roll of postage stamps ANYWHERE. My anxiety was lounging the corning blowing her smoke while I searched all the obvious places, “Gonna call mommy to take you to the postal office?” She cooed, “You only brought this on your lazy self.” Did I mention that my anxiety is a bitch?

I got dressed and stomped out of my apartment, refusing to acknowledge the bitch in the room. At that point I just moved on autopilot, I went and got in my car and drove to the postal office, conveniently down the street.

Now I could makeup a super epic story of the bitch showing up and my having a showdown with her and winning victoriously, brandishing my postage stamp in victory as I road out in style; but it wasn’t that exciting.┬áIt was way easy, I just went in and asked for stamps and paid. I finished the task in less than 30 seconds. I did, however, ride out in style while blasting We Didn’t Start The Fire (I know, so cool right?)

After getting my mail sorted out, I took a few drags of a joint and settled down. While it’s always a satisfying victory overcoming the bitch, it was still exhausting as hell. But sitting here now and listening to Clair de Lune, I feel an overwhelming peace that I have not found in weeks. I give thanks for the simple things, a tune of music and the glorious natural world around me.

Now excuse me while I sip on cranberry juice like its fine wine and try to tell what the clouds are telling me (I’m still a little stoned).