BLW Interview w/Dog Whisperer, Cesar Millan talking about The White House Dog for Donald Trump

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BLW Interview w/ Game of Thrones star, Jason Momoa talks about Justice League and Fashion


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BLW Interview w/ Mickey Rourke talking about Donald Trump’s Muslim ban

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BLW Interview w/ Tom Arnold talking about Donald Trump’s 1st Press Conference

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BLW Interview – Donald Trump supporter – Jon Voight says Miley Cyrus & Shia LaBeouf are GUILTY of TREASON

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Poetry Mondays – Cat’s Tongue by Ryan Fu

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man-at-oceansea

I stand across from you


in our tiny studio apartment

letting the silence fill up the space

as I wonder what happened to us.

We used to be inseparable,

but now we’re ghost, haunting each other

waiting on faith like Jack and Rose

onboard the Titanic.

I wonder if one our cats could talk,

what they would say?


They probably would say what we were

too scared to say.

That this is over.

There’s no going back.

You can’t put a Band Aid


in a gaping hole. 

So, I stand across from you


in our tiny studio apartment.

Between us an ocean of unhappiness


waiting for a life raft.

RYAN FU

Unknown

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Twas just this time last year I died by Emily Dickinson

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‘Twas just this time, last year, I died.

I know I heard the Corn,

When I was carried by the Farms 

It had the Tassels on 

I thought how yellow it would look 

When Richard went to mill 

And then, I wanted to get out,

But something held my will. 

I thought just how Red — Apples wedged

The Stubble’s joints between 

And the Carts stooping round the fields

To take the Pumpkins in 

I wondered which would miss me, least,

And when Thanksgiving, came,

If Father’d multiply the plates 

To make an even Sum 

And would it blur the Christmas glee

My Stocking hang too high

For any Santa Claus to reach

The Altitude of me 

But this sort, grieved myself,

And so, I thought the other way,

How just this time, some perfect year 

Themself, should come to me 

THE COMPLETE POEMS OF EMILY DICKINSON

Legends by Ryan Fu (The Hated Ones)

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As a kid,

I’ve always wanted to capture

a dragon

but I wondered what

would I’ve done

if I actually caught one?

So day in

&

day out

I eat

&

take shit

with a smile on my face

just for the chance to write

my own story.

Because isn’t that the only reason

why we do anything?

Why we abuse

&

torture ourselves,

until we are halfway to our graves. 

We want to be remembered.

We want our words

&

actions

to live on past the afterlife

making us immortal.

We are tired of not being the narrative

because we want to stand out.

We want to become heroes

in our own story. 

So, I remain steadfast

with my pen

&

my balls

waiting for the opportunity,

still chasing that dragon.

Photo Credit: Andy Fair Hurst

RYAN FU

Unknown

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The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

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Wizardpaths

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

THE POETRY OF ROBERT FROST: THE COLLECTED POEMS, COMPLETE AND UNABRIDGED

BLW Interview w/ Phoebe Price talking about supporting Veterans (Happy Veterans Day!!!)

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