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03.01.11

The Poetry of Charlie Sheen

Beaten down or Beat poet? Charlie Sheen's rambling talk-show rants are filled with powerful symbolic imagery and occasionally wise rhymes. Read his latest work.

Poetry at My Fingertips: The Selected Verse of Charlie Sheen

What Remains

I don’t have a job.
I’ve got a whole family
To support and love.
People
A lot more important than me
Are relying on that money
To fuel the magic.

Like Lambs to the Slumber

So just shut your traps
And put down your McDonald’s,
Your magazines,
Your TMZ
And the rest of it,
And focus
On something that matters.
But you can’t focus
On things that matter
If all you’ve been is asleep
For forty years.
Funny how sleep
Rhymes with sheep.

Mea Culpa

There’s nothing about that in my history
Anywhere.
I’m sorry if I offended you.
I didn’t know you were so sensitive.
I just thought that, after you wailing on me
For eight years,
I could take a couple shots back.

your rights, your wrongs

you have the right to kill me,
but you do not have the right to judge me.
boom.
that’s the whole movie.
that’s life.

In the Air and On the Ground

I got magic
And I got poetry
At my fingertips
Most of the time
And this includes naps.
I’m an F-18
And I will destroy you
In the air,
And I will deploy my ordnance
To the ground.

On Deaf Ears

Did you say Cancun
Or caboose?
I don't know,
I was in a blackout, man.

Tune in Tomorrow

They lay down
With their ugly wives
And their ugly children
And just look at their loser lives.
And then they look at me
And say,
“I can't process it.”
Well, no,
And you never will!
Stop trying!
Just sit back
And enjoy the show.

Let Me Say This About the Goddesses

Let me say this about the Goddesses,
I don't think the term is good enough,
But when you're bound by these terrestrial descriptions,
You must use the best term available.
So if you think about it, dude,
I'm 0-for-3 in marriage,
But like in baseball,
The scoreboard doesn't lie.
Never has.
So what we all have
Is a marriage of the hearts.
And to sully, contaminate,
Or radically disrespect this unit
With a shameful contract
Is something I'll leave to the amateurs
And Bible grippers.

Soft Targets

Look what I'm dealing with, man.
I'm dealing with fools
And trolls.
I'm dealing with soft targets,
And it's just strafing runs
In my underwear
Before my first cup of coffee.

This Just In

Newsflash:
I am special,
and I will never be one of you!
I have a disease?
Bullshit!
I cured it with my brain,
with my mind.
I cured it,
I'm done.
You don't look like you're having a lot of fun.

god’s gift to man

women are not to be hit
they’re to be hugged
and caressed

The Special Ones

I just don’t do it.
I will not believe that if I do something
Then I have to follow a certain path
Because it was written
For normal people.
People who aren’t special.
People who don’t have tiger blood
And Adonis DNA.

To My Friend, Lenny Dykstra

I think it was Nails that said,
And I was really flattered that he got it right,
He might be Nails,
But I'm bayonets.
I'm battle-tested bayonets.

Ode to a Swordsman

I'm insulted.
I am confused.
But these resentments,
They are the rocket fuel
That lives
In the tip of my sabre.

Can’t Is the Cancer of Happen

I blinked
And I cured my brain,
that's how.
Everybody has the power.
Can't is the cancer of happen.
I can't do it.
The Nike slogan doesn't say,
'Just Try It.'
Oh, okay. Just try it.
No.
'Just Do It,' man.

A Screaming Comes Across the Sky

I'm tired
Of pretending
Like I'm not special.
I’m tired
Of pretending
Like I’m not bitchin’,
A total frickin’ rock star
From Mars.

Use as Directed

I am on a drug.
It’s called Charlie Sheen.
It’s not available.
If you try it once,
You will die.
Your face will melt off
And your children will weep
Over your exploded body.

Ave Atque Vale

I'm gonna hang out
With these two smoking hotties
And fly privately
Around the world.
It might be lonely up here
But I sure like the view.

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Michael Solomon is the former features director of The Daily Beast. His writing has appeared in Vanity Fair, Esquire, Elle, and O, and he has published several books, including the Malcolm Gladwell parody Blank: The Power of Not Actually Thinking at All.