Poem: Cold

It's so cold
I'm feeling old
My joints are worn
My jacket is torn
Skin blistered and red
Flakey feeling dead
It's negative six degrees
Turn up the heat please
I'm going to turn to ice
It won't be nice
I'm cold and blue
Can't wear sandals, need shoes
Finger tips are hard
Can't play my lute like a bard
Tongue stuck in place
Inside my face
Freezing and mellow
Lest there isn't snow that yellow

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Life and Everything: Airports

Today's topic is air ports.

Air ports suck. There weirdly lit and they suck. Why though?

Air ports are made of people wandering around Germs! Air ports are just places that have germs everywhere. And electricity! I'm not going to feel good with my phone charging! It's too much like a prison had a baby with a hospital.

Yeah...

A haiku: Good News

Tomorrow I move 

Out of my old apartment

And into a house

Writing Excercise: Rhyme Time

Write an entire short story in which everything rhymes. Do it in couplets. Do it randomly, but make the rhymes apparent.

Why?

Well, for one it's a challenge.
For two, it forces you to reach deep into your vocabulary. Heck, it might even force you to look up new words.

It's a win. Win. Win.

Roses: A Poem

Roses are red
The color we bled
Pluck them from their roots
Their stories, their books
Pluck them for their good looks

It's a flower
Every hour
Till its dead in the dirt
Go ahead, pluck one
I'm sure it won't hurt

Plus the rose
That arose
Pluck the daisy
In the mist, so hazy
Pluck the mushroom
In the panic room
Pluck the roses red
From the graves of the dead

The flower represents
Time's stream, consent
Scream your resent
Because you invention went unsent

Welcome to Heaven
And welcome to hell
Go ahead, pick the flowers
They'll regrow
If you couldn't retell

Crime Stops Snow

Stealy tips #3: Snow

Snow is evil. Snow is good.

Why though? Because snow allows for you to see what's been touched, which vehicles, which houses. It allows for you to vanish. It's cold and no one else has the guts.

However, it does the same for others. They'll know you're there. They will see you. They will see your steps.

The important thing is not to be caught. Never get caught.

Invention: Wrap Rap

Want a million dollar idea?

This is an automatic wrapping machine that raps rap versions of Christmas songs.

Why does this need to exist?

Don't ask me, you made it. Why does a singing bass on a wall mount exist? Yeah. I went there.

Christmas: A Poem

A Christmas Present is Present
The gift wrap is crap
It isn't the point, perhaps
Nor is what's inside

Gifts are about the sentiment
What the person meant
So if you give someone a horse head
It doesn't mean you want them dead

A gift box is a hideaway
For a special giveaway
I could be filled with jewels and gems
From a guy names Jule or a guy names Jim

But what is the purpose other than cheer
And that time of year
Is it to offer sacrifice
To the people or are nice

Is gift giving
A form of active defense
Because to keep living
You'll need some friends

The important thing is to never take offence
Unless that's what meant
Then by means
Go on ahead.

Stay safe this season
No matter the reason
Don't be reckless
This Christmas

Crime Boss Hounchell's Subtle Tips

Stealy Topic #2

Stealing something requires either finesse or respect. You either do it without being seen or you do it to the people you trust, so that they never suspect that it's you begin with.

From my non-personally experience it is much easier to get away with the respect option, however that option also carries the most risk. Get caught and you'll lose more than just your friendship.

My favorite paragraph I have ever Written

Their campaign was boring, because the campaigns in CAW were always about birds,

 which was weird given that they created game. Warren's large overarching quest was about

a cannibalistic group of Ostriches in a cult looking to eat Shotgun and Terry. He called it Eat. Prey.

Love. The Underwatcher got bored of the game quickly, and Warren found it hard to play

without someone else. He wished that Greg, Ketchup, Itch, Emile, Les, and Anne could all

show up, but they couldn't. They were truly dead. It wasn't a gag or a trick. Warren had screwed up.

Top Ten Chirstmas Characters

1. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

 

Gotta love an underdog, who is a deer.

 

2. Frosty the Snowman

 

I mean, is Frosty the snowman or is he the hat, we may never know.

 

3. Santa Calus

 

Because obviously.

 

4. John McClane from Die Hard

 

I mean, he stopped terrorists and yet his wife still divorced him? That's silly.

 

5. Jack Frost

 

He's cold. Cold is like ten times cool.

 

6. Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo

 

Because South Park is amazing.

 

7. Grandma

 

From the song grandma got run over by a reindeer

 

8. The Dog from the Grinch

 

Gotta hand it to that dog, he sure did stand by one evil green dude.

 

9. Peppermint Sally

 

Who doesn't remember peppermint Sally from All the Things You Love

 

10. Krampus

 

Can't know what fun is, if you don't know what the opposite is.

 

 

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Life and Everything: Repetition

Today's topic is Repetition.

Today's topic is Repetition.

Why is Repetition important? Especially is writing, and advertising, and just the real world? Because repetition is like the hammer the swings a point into a bored public. The more you repeat, the more people remember.

Remembering is the core of every single idea.

Today's topic is Repetition.

The more an idea get repeated the more it gets cemented in reality.

What was today's topic again?

Mirror Mirror: A Poem

Mirror mirror on the wall
Who is the tiredest of them all
Is it me or you
Doing what you do
Reflecting back my sheepish image
With my sleepy visage

Or is it me
With my lack of sleep
Unable to eat
Working is no feat
Is it you or me

I like to think my reflection
Is happier with his direction
Because everything is reversed
None of which has been traversed
I know your just light
Excited by movement
You're just doing what's right
You can't lament.

But if I stood still long enough
When would you say it was rough
When would you walk away
Are you walking with me?

Or are we only together
When I'm under the weather
In the morning sun
Never when we're having fun

If everything is opposite
What drags you to the mirror?
Do you crave my tears and fears?
Or are you just keeping tabs

In case you can switch
Lights on
Which is which
Me me on the wall
Which was I after all?

Poetic Movie Review of Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Jedi is single and plural
So, the last jedi can be anyone in the world
Or even Rey, a simple girl

The force is strong
When franchise moves along
The soundtrack is amazing
Especially for the scenes with rebel scum

Though I wish I could talk about story
The movie isn't quite history
No spoilers
Not yet
But don't forget

Nah, its jedi aspects
The lighting and sound effects
Acting, don't to a T
Characters set in reality

Snoke, a force choke
Finn, and then the movie ends
Hope, it's last
Jedi may not outlast

Revenge of the Sith
Unless they don't exist
The movie took leaps
And it took bounds

Different than expected
Beat my expectations

With that in mind
Four and half out of five


 

Another Haiku

Time cannot be stopped
It can only be slowed down
Like the winds of change

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Life and Everything: Thunder

Today's topic? Thunder.

Thunder is the sound lightning makes? Or is it thunder the cause of the light the lightning makes. Oh no. Light and sound, which is the source of sources!!! Is light so fast it doubles back on sound.

Anyway, I'm going to go with the fact that thunder us actually just a cosmic bull knocking down cosmic China in a cosmic China closet.

They are vegetables.

Last: A Poem

The last of something
Is the start of something else
Life a circle
Even if you're a square

Things happen
They don't happen
They also happen

Life is a circle
Filled with hurdles
Round and round we go
Where we'll stop, nobody knows

A circle
A vulture
A circling vulture

He has to eat
So take a seat
It's the circle of life
Under the universal knife
Everything must die

Yes, that is not negative
Nor is it dark
Every beating of a heart
It has to stop

But when one stops
Another starts
Because life in never ending
This life isn't bought, it's lending

I take my breath's leave my mark
Pass down the beating of my heart
To a kid
After I'm dead

Me beats live on
In the life of song
Without my beats
We'd never has his

Top 8 M&m Characters

1. Red.

Red is the best one, and no one can ever take that away from me.

2. Green

I mean she has an attitude and she seems fun. It was mint to be.

3. Orange

I just like him because he is a nervous wreck.

4. Brown

She's nekkid. Or so an ad made a joke about.

5. Blue

6. The pretzel from inside orange

Just... yes.

7. Santa

That Christmas ad has been running for approximately 300 years.

8. Yellow

Yellow is the worst. I hate yellow. I hate peanut M&Ms to be fair. No. No. No.

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Life and Everything: Hot Pockets

Today's topic is Hot Pockets.

Hot Pockets are bread around a pocket of microwavable food stuffs.

But... Isn't that just a burrito. Hot Pocket has tricked us into buying burritos filled with strange non-sense. It's just a burrito.

It's just a burrito!!!!

Greatest Inventions Today: Villain TV

The villian TV is not a million dollar idea, but it is a painting in a brilliant looking gold frame. That is actually a TV.

Why?

Yo change the painting obviously. And it can be used to project anything else. That way you can change the painting to fit the mood.

The Door: A Poem

The door stands here
Separating my fear
Like water and oil
I'm safe from turmoil

Door made of oak
And I've never been choked
Not by a beast under my bed
Or by the madness in my head

The door is a butler
The hinge would concur
The door is a body guard
Like a castle's courtyard

The door is shut
Impervious to cuts
The door is steal
Cold, is all it feels

It's grey like the wall
Solid and all
Tight like my jacket
So I won't forget

Quiet like the moon
In my padded room
The door keeps me safe
From my own wraiths

Dr. Hounchell's of Life and Everything: Roundabouts

Today's topic is roundabouts.

I have a theory that the circular set of road is designed for a purpose other than decongesting traffic. In fact, I believe it is made for people who use the archaic phrase 'roundabouts.' Which means, nearby or around.

This way, when you are going in a circle looking in each direction, while in a roundabout, you can look around to see your whereabouts and then you'll know roundabout where you need to be.

Maybe I'm wrong. Probably. But I have to have a theory, so I do.

A Poem: A Poem

A poem is designed
To be refined
By a single eye
Staring staring until they die

A poem is meant to struggle
In a word jumble
It can be used as rope
But never as the joke

It can be used to form a cape
But it can never escape
A poem is meant to be trapped
And eventually untapped

It's potential wrapped in rhyme
And a poem can never lie
No, they sit and wait
And never depreciate

Poems are mean to breathe
To be trapped, never leave
In your head while you sleep
In your tears when you weep

A poem is a child
Even when mild
A poem needs nurture
To have it's own future

A poet is meant to bleed
With every page they read
A poem is meant to lose sight
With every word they write

A poet that is blind
Is one with a clear mind
A poem that is a kid
Will always live

Letters Never Meant to Be Read 2

Recently, I have had a byline published into a book called Letters Never Meant to be Read 2.

It is a collection of letters by several different authors and just letter writers. Anyone and everyone has a letter that needs to be written, but not read by that person.

Letters are a great way to express your feelings on any subject. Gravity, love, death, and even the letter Q.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/0692990496/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1512761995&sr=8-1&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_FMwebp_QL65&keywords=am+Hounchell

Check it out and maybe write your own letter.

BS for Class: A Short Story

I was running through the forest, about to lose my mind over finals. I had a portfolio to finish, if I wanted to graduate, which I did.
Originally, the trip was meant as an expedition to find said tale in the wild, but no dice. The story wasn't just lying on the ground ready for death. I was going to have to chase it, hence the running. Then as I bounced into a clearing, I saw the clear white tale of some beautiful BS.
This was the thing I had been chasing. All accounts pointed towards being quiet when sneaking up on class projects, but I'm not the normal kind of person. I readied my pen for an attack. I'd pen this BS for my class, if it were the last thing I did. And I wouldn't wait until the late wee morning to do it. I was going to get it now.
 I pounced forward, and the BS leapt away, blocking my attempt. It didn't know that I was out to win. How could it? It was just some BS. It pranced about the clearing mocking me with its every gesture. Now? No, it was going to get it. No longer did I want to pen the BS.
No. Now, I wanted to ride it. I was going to ride that BS into class, dismount, and stare the professor directly in the face. "This is my BS for class," I'd say, but first I'd have to catch it. I eluded me with every twist of it's pristine white body, but I knew its movements. I knew its way.
"I'm going to catch you." The beast twisted its neck, flexing spikes into its back, creating a rider's block. It knew what it was doing. I twisted my pen about and with one decisive movement, I stabbed the BS in the neck, and it collapsed at my feet.
Into the dead air of night, I gathered it's body. I proclaimed into the night, "I penned my BS for my portfolio, even though it gave me rider's block!"

Nother Pome: A Tombstone

A tombstone, blank
A slate, blank
Staring at it, blank
I don't know
Where to go?
A name embossed in stone
I'm alone
While the wind blows
The birds crow
The stone is blank
It's not representing
Anything, but nothing
The stone is blank
And ready to take
Another flesh another name
The stone is blank
Who will lay below
With stone all to show
Who die beneath the tree
And lay here finally
The stone is blank
Without a name
Who will it take
Where's the wraith
The stone is blank

Jar of Pain

This invention is simple and perhaps not a million dollar idea.

But it's a cookie jar. You put cookies in it. But...... Everytime you go for a cookie more than once withing 9 hours, it shocks you. Just a little zap to remind you to eat less cookies. The more cookies you go for in a 9 hour period, the stronger the zap.

You'll be eating less cookies in a day.

The World: A Poem

The world is spinning round
Without making a single sound
It neither clicks nor clacks
It just has a tilted aspect

The world's tilt and the sun
Going beyond expectation
Warmth to the trees
Pollen to the bees

This thing that keeps me alive
Allows life to thrive
And yet I cannot feel it
Not in my mind, or my stomach

Invisible and incredible
Selfless and effortless

Even if I try to feel
Whatever I'm touched by isn't real
No this action, I may comprehend
But the feeling I'll never apprehend

A mother protecting her children
From there tarnished burning end
A self sacrifice, destroying comfort
And I can't feel the effort

Everything she had done for me
And I can't see
I'm blind to the Earth ways
But not from the sun's rays

I was born from your Hearth
Raised on this earth
I'll be buried in her soil
Someday, I'll be coal

Poem: Breath

Another breath
Leads to another step
And another breath
Leads to the steps
The gate is atop The stairs
And I continue forward
And another word
A step and a breath
There's nothing left
But another breath

Below an ocean of light
Atop a mountain of kites
Who am I to stand alone
Staring at my cell phone

And another breath
And another step
Where I'm heading, I'll be there next
With the correct set of text

Another breath
Saint Peter is here
Waiting, stroking his beard
Looking at me weird

I have a tweet to finish
So my following doesn't diminish
Another breath
Another text
I take no more steps

I don't know why there was a fuss
I've got a lot of time, since I was hit by that bus.

Dr. Hounchell's Theory of Life and Everything: Time Sink

Today's topic? Time sink.

I know that the phrase time sink is used like an intellectual money pit. The point is that you sink a lot of time into a skill or thing you love, but it doesn't really have any use in the future.

I don't believe in this idea at all. And I know you may be thinking, we don't care, you're gonna die just like the rest of us "Not" Dr. Hounchell.

True. True. But I have ideas and you are on my blog, so...

A time sink should be viewed as a more literal sink. You use the things that may have no use in  the future to wash the monotony of normal life off of your hands. This way, you have clean hands. Clean hands means you can eat and sleep in peace. Basically, just switch what kind of sink you are thinking of. Easy easy.

Poem: Bird Jeremy

A feather falling from the sky
A little blue guy
Everything could be bleak
But not when I have a beak
Plant a seed in the grass
I'm a bird, glad you asked
In the pale moonlight
You can see him upright
Bird chirping in the breeze
Still, he can't fly with ease
Perched upon his wood
Doing everything he could

Though on the outside he is a bird
Vengeance is the word
Bird Jeremy will fight to the death
For everything that's left
The poachers who killed his family will pay
Not tonight, but some other day
Armed with razor sharp claws
And his own brand of cause
He will end them
And they will be forgotten