Coffee Filter Broke so I Brewed my Brains Instead

@nickorsini for the brave.

Monday Night Raw and Guardians of the Galaxy and Joyce Manor and Comic Con panel cell-phone footage and fantasy football and Real Friends and TNA iMPACT and Ring of Honor and my dog and my broken phone and my hot office and my Sharknado office calendar and wash and fold on a Monday and beef jerky from upstate and Steve Jobs and Steve Globs and the marijuana industry.

There was a United Artists theater that closed and they put all the seats by the curb. Now I watch movies in authentic movie seats that I bolted to my floor and my back is always hurting.

There was a wash and fold that closed. They gave all their best customers wafers at Christmas time. Tins and tins and tins of wafers were in a dumpster by the curb. Nothing can eat chocolate without hurting other than people, just ask the stray dogs.

Adoption day and Modest Mouse and when will Game of Thrones be finished and another top-10 on the internet with any editing and spending all my money versus saving all my money. I want to have enough to do both.

Text tagged as: writing writer indie pop_punk poets_on_tumble wwe guardians_of_the_galaxy ring_of_honor new_jersey new_york rejectscorner new_poetry_society spilled_ink poet poetry

Loving Before I Knew Anything About Love


We played Mastodon against muted Nintendo-

The breakdowns were green shells I shot

from Wario to Donkey Kong. Your hair spread

on my sheets as you counted how many

years is too many to be married. I told you

just enough if we hurry. A horror movie of

a suburb, with an Elm street and a lake,

was all we had waiting. I’ve got these

dreams where I’m stronger, and I break

apart Pangaea with a guitar riff and my

voice, both never stop getting louder.

And it’s a coincidence that the resulting

continents, countries and states have

our backyards touching instead of being

a 10-day vacation away. Coming-of-age

is a concept to make that phase okay.

If he can do it and sing about it, I can

probably do the same. And I think of

you flying through a thunderstorm or

boarding a train. Mirror Mode made

you dizzy, but we still beat the game.

Text tagged as: poem poet poetry poets_on_tumblr rejectscorner poetry_society new_poetry_society spilled_ink indie pop_punk mastodon mario_kart am_writing relationships

good genes.


I was tired of watching her carry

so much, so I lent my back to help-

And I never felt a thing so heavy

as the life she was living. My

legs were strong from running and

my back was straight from good

genes. “Let it go” she told once

we’d crossed, and I couldn’t

because it was too much for

just one of us. So we walked-

and pieces fell off on the side

of the road. Soon it was light

enough for us to stand up.

And she looked at the sun and

the sky and her green eyes met

dirty brown eyes - two thankful

spines seeing for the first time.

Text tagged as: poem writing poets_on_tumblr poetry indie spilled_ink poet



Just take my hand.

I’ll put the flashers on -

Yes I know it’s late

for pedestrians to walk

across The George

Washington Bridge.

I’m already pulled over-

and the Civic barely

made it so let it count

for something. Thank

you for saving me and

for the last year, it’s been

the best one of my life.

You see all these cables,

all these lights? I used to

think of men building this-

You know 12 of them

died? I get romantic

about architecture- how

it exists for you and I,

even in the crowded

moments - this city is

crowded all the time.

This is where I first

felt…  driving across

the lower level, not

sure if you remember.

You said you found it

amazing, in the face of

forever- which is just the

length of a playlist, we

get these moments

in love better than

any author can capture-

the 3am Hudson River

and how your wrist feels

after the lights go off in

a movie theater.

Text tagged as: poets_on_tumblr poetry poem spilled_ink writing am_writing pop_punk indie writer rejectscorner poetry_society new_poetry_society new_york_city george_washington_bridge nyc

River Jabronis.

Hey! Ive gotten quite a few new followers in the last few days. I’m Nick! That’s Jack the dog (my rescue pup). We’re in the Poconos hanging out in nature and making silly faces at each other. I’m a writer from Queens, NY by way of my home in Northern New Jersey. You can check out my work at:

On Amazon

On Goodreads

And, as always, follow me @NickOrsini on Twitter because I bring the ruckus.

I’m heading to an early screening of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes tonight courtesy of my main Wednesday hookup, Midtown Comics.

Thanks for following the blog, liking the poems. My new book The Mega is currently in its second edit and I hope to have it in bookstores and online so so soon! So many exciting things to roll out with that book. Stay tuned!


Text tagged as: author writer dog dog_adoption adopted_dog writing am_writing pop_punk tattoo tattoos goodreads planet_of_the_apes midtown_comics nyc new_york new_jersey

Command and Conquer Red Alert 2

@nickorsini follow me to freedom

I spent all I ever had, every last coin.

This Red Alert 2 campaign had been paused

for three years while I decided how

the miniature war could keep going. And we

fight on for God and country and a kiss on

a Thursday that turns my face into the

weekend, swollen with sun and things I

can’t afford. When are you ever the winner?

So I was spinning, standing there in front

of a claw game designed to kill me. If I

could only hook the tag on Donkey Kong,

I would have gone home with someone.

Give me air-conditioning. Give me the fruit

pops that are nothing but syrup. Give me

brain freeze in hopes it dulls my personality.

And that’s how Memorial Day ended, with

me never getting over my decision to wear

Madras - should have stuck to cutoffs.

Should have kept fighting for that Thursday,

but I hit the space bar. There’s always a

small barrack ready to make me go to war.

Text tagged as: poetry poem listen newpoetrysociety spilled_ink writer writing indie pop_punk summer inspiration amwriting rejectscorner poetry_reading poets_on_tumblr poetry_society

Wet, Hot American Summer


I spent one wet, hot American summer

leaning against Blockbuster across

the street from Pilgrim Diner. Suburban

skies still catch fire and the melted soles

of my Airwalks are still on your driveway.

The night before she died she asked

if I partied down in The Queen City. I told

her exit 63 was twenty exits too far for me.

I drove her home. The next morning she

was gone - a packed bag strewn across

the road. You could hear the sirens from

the horror section, from my booth you

could see the smoke. I took a walk that

never ended, transparent with sweat.

They found me at Golden Palace Buffet,

eleven miles away tucked on Route 10.

There were no sidewalks the entire

way home as I let the dry air wash

me in dirt and every car horn.

You were a ledge, a couple molecules

left as the season changed again.

Text tagged as: poem poet poetry spilled_ink pop_punk lyrics writing amwriting indie new_jersey nj movies loss love jersey_shore

The Entitlement Problem

So - as some of you know, at a recent Pity Sex/Tiger’s Jaw show in Williamsburg, fans rushed the stage on two separate instances to try to kiss Britty Drake (Pity Sex) and Brianna Collins (Tiger’s Jaw). This, to me, is pretty disgusting, even more disheartening reading how offput and uncomfortable it made the two performers. I wrote an article for Thought Catalog about the incident here:

The Entitlement Problem And Learning To Not Kiss Girls In Bands

Thanks for reading it. It’s important. 

Text tagged as: tigers_jaw pity_sex pop_punk emo punk warped_tour music indie bands band thought_catalog britty_drake brianna_collins

You Know Nothing, Jon Snow.

Hey! - so I’m listening to Spotify (Real Friends at the moment) so let’s talk

Ask me a question

About anything - writing, the world cup, poetry, books, publishing, adopting a dog, pop punk, new york city, pro rasslin, horror movies, comic books, whatever.

Thursday Spotify Fireside Chat.

Text tagged as: ask ask_box writing books amwriting pop_punk indie horror wrestling pro_wrestling real_friends dog dog_adoption questions comic_books comics game_of_thrones

two-dollar movie tuesday


Maybe it wouldn’t be perfect,

just nice enough to suffice

while we’re in your one-

bedroom listening to

David Comes to Life.

Woodstock roars around

us, just quiet enough

at night. You can hear the

2-dollar movie dialogue

if you place your ear just

right. Kill ourselves in

front of Smokes-4-Less

just to give meaning to

the time - I’ll let you

know who I want to

be as soon as I decide.

But for now we can stay

nothing, two nobodies on

a bench - me in my own

jersey and you in your

stained dress. I can wash

the night from my clothes,

but it never comes off my

hands. I’ve got a plan:

to drink for forty days

like in the liner notes.

Living a song that every-

body seems to know.


Text tagged as: poem poet poetry pop_punk brand_new fucked_up jesse_lacey writing writer spilled_ink rejectscorner new_poetry_society amwriting poets lit indie burning_muse writings tumblr_writing_community

Page1of143 next page ›