Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Trying so hard to
Avoid those corners

I hugged myself
In the jacket when they
Said this is yours

I bit my lip
While plugging
My ears

Trying so very hard
To push this stick up
Into another gear

My mind has
Gone and got me
Under the gun

I'm about
To shoot it off

Go out in style
And call it fun

Someone
That doesn't
Want some thing
Would be a relief

It saves on the sorrow
Saves much of the grief

Crazy mixed up world
A threat to ourselves

Bumping into a morning
No giving fair warning

I built up my own sweet hell
And on this I dwell

'Twinkle twinkle little star
how I wonder what we Are'.
Heightened awareness
Full deep breath
A lilt in my voice
Palm shadow
Across the bridge
Of my nose
Blue veins
Blue eyes meeting
Clear blue skies.
You tell me one thing one day
and another thing the next.

What takes the cake is
you turn around and wonder
why is it that I'm perplexed.

Even the ugly has its place,
what is ugly to one
is beautiful to another,
that is , once you get past the face.

A silent psalm does surround
a starry angles glow,
wiping the tears of fears. Stand tall when you can.
And see that it is you that has you bound.

While here, in the mechanics of the mind,
as it matters. Some of us just aren't
mechanically inclined.
So while many move forward, hordes are left behind.

A Book talks about this big war of Spirit,
and its stress is that it is no game.
No politics physical or not can steer it,
there will be no passing the buck, no pointing the finger in blame.

No longer am I walking with my head in the stars,
my feet are flat,  right on the ground.
I put my ear to the track and hear
that heavy chunk of metal, with its painful mournful sound.

I can say that there are other planes,
yes, I can think that if I please,
though every breath that I breathe,
I'd rather announce to my world that I'm just not out to feed.

Like it has a pain or purpose that arose out of some need
of something that just had to be said.
That sleeping dog that you kicked only had a snack of grass
before he laid down to take his bed.

You had been nudging him with your boot and now
he is awake and he yelps and then vomits on your shoes
before he commences to growl.. and that godawful Hell will be back,
and it's going to extract One Blood Curdling Howl!  

The Universe is saying in no so uncertain terms
That I had better hold back, that I had better take heed.
It isn't just me that gets cut,
no it isn't, no, all others bleed.

All those ****** good loving deeds
that hath spawned better life that I don't know about.
On the other shoe, all those hurtful, hostile things,
those things that gave Hell for many to carry... hell for many to tell.

Never is it one cause, one reaction,
and oh, my thoughts and actions,
and the shame that comes,
coming in fractions of degrees.

Then, a breeze broke the solid heat
and quelled the sweat and quenched the thirst.
You can toast the twisted souls
or you can have them cursed.
I M
it's easier to stay stopped than it is to get stopped
I had a dream the other night,
                   I visited an old friend
                      who had died last Halloween.

He drank himself to death,
wet brain, liver failure,
the whole nine yards.

In my dream I asked him
    what it was like to be dead,
he said "Oh it's okay....
can I borrow five bucks?"

I don't know I said,
    "How can I be sure
               I'll get it back"

"Ah come on" he said,
"I'm five bucks short for a case"

I relented and we called a cab.
       The cab driver comes
            and he says to Barry,

"What's it like to be dead?"
We walk this long highway together
Nothing can pull us apart, no never
The sun so low in the sky headed for the horizon
In the garden, things look so inviting
The flowers they just do as they please.

The trees shake their leaves as we walk by
Hidden secrets they whisper in the breeze.
A long time ago when we first started
I knew you were the one, you were so kindhearted.
Beneath a be-bop moon I want to croon to you
Nothing short of our giving it our best will ever do.
wind
blows,
curtians
fluttered,
flapped.

truth,
fiction
muttered,

the breeze
slacked.

rain
falls,
panes
close.

Soft
rhythmic
in
art
iculate
riddles,

droplets
stream,

tapped
memory
flows.

Con
den
sa
tion

dampens
sill,

time
drifts,

I
remain
still.

grey
grey
gazing,

hyp
not
ical.


rain
rain,

go­
away

come
again

some
other
day.
Don't just don't stand too close,
what do you figure man!

Don't you know there is a pandemic!

I guess as far as you are concerned Big Government
will help you, don't you know, they will or will not.

Banking the house for winter
so the pipes don't freeze.

North, North America is o so cold
come winter... and the slush and the salt
ruining your car and your clothes.

I'd like a formidable climate,
a place to hang my hat.
Some place so awesome
you just want to plant your roots.
Credit equals slavery,
telephone rings off the wall.

Two cars in the yard,
A house on the hill.

Money for this,
money for that,
along the way
you try modestly
to squirrel away
money for your Will.
Left to my own, he bit his bone and smirked,
one of the skeletons not in the closet.
Bony he was being dragged
kicking and screaming
and biting his bone.

He told me one morning
after a second cup
of a so hot and black
it took an hour to drink.

Two right hands are the answer,
your left hand will never know.
Two right hands are the answer.

I don't care if you hate me,
usually good does hate evil.
You know when I'm in that closet
I'll step out to visit just like an old ghost
and you may be powerless
and I may have my way.

Then I stopped pushing
and started biting my bone,
I was standing on thin air.
That's what they want,
they want you to fight.
Left to my own, he bit his bone and smirked.
One of those skeletons not in the closet.
Bony, he was being
dragged, kicking and screaming
and biting his bone.

He told me one morning
after a second cup
of a so black and hot
it took an hour to drink.

Two right hands are the answer,
your left hand will never know.
Two right hands are the answer.

I don't care if you hate me,
usually good does hate evil.
you know when I'm in that closet
I'll step out to visit like an old ghost,
and you may be powerless
and I may have my way.

Then he stopped pushing
and started biting my bone.
I was standing on thin air.
That's what they want, they want you to fight.
bit a nail off today
how am I going to pull off
  fingerpicking now

bit nervous I guess, I confess

everybody's right, nobody is wrong
a dose of hard-times makes a soft soul strong

don't ask more than I can handle though
always slow carrying a heavy load

how to pull off
another gruesome day
change the behavior but the nature stay

been a farmhand, music man and handy baker
bit nervous I guess, to meet my maker

not seen a good day since the day before last
  you can ask me but  I can't think that fast

bit nervous I must confess that I'm a bit nervous I guess
-littlebigheart-
It's been a long time
since I had a good cry,
even longer since I let my heart sing.

When was the last time that I found something
that was "to die for", just for it to die.
When was the last time I had a righteous cry.

I  ought to,  I've got to drive on out of here.
Use the charge card, rent a car. Take a day trip,
perhaps a week. Maybe go for broke and drive on out
to the other coast.

If only I could give as much as I get, wouldn't love flow free, make it practically, a good bet.      This wearing my heart on the cuff of my sleeve,
it's got to the point where I can barely breathe.. Something was taken,
when I was young. And repeatedly stolen, and repeatedly I got stung.
I could never give it away, and I can't, to this day.
No I can't any more, yes,  it was taken so long before.

So I kiss those goals and I send them along,
I set them free, I don't hold on too long, it leaves me feeling
that I'm good and strong. As strong as I can be.



Listen close I tell myself, If you don't want to ride the roller coaster
put your hands in your pockets and don't pay the price.
remember *you can't pull strings when your hands are tied,
and you can't feel too good when you're poisoned inside.

The stars are but specks in bits of space, my lids are heavy
from this weary living. I feel the devil has put his bid in place,
On his part, there are no misgivings.

I came to this place of my own volition, to get loose of this crawlspace
is my only mission. Then you'll hear a chorus of me, a churning of mercury burning, I let a moment of time, a bit of space, leave me old and well worn down
* you can't pull strings when your hands are tied   - John Lennon
Grey
skies
chilly
temperatures

Alibis
for
your
sweet
alchemy

Allegorical
punchlines
setting
up
shop

Breathe
deeply
my
dear
friend

Every
thing
is
subject
to
change.
The blues they say
Came from singing call and response
In the fields and when they'd go to church they
Injected the spiritual which led to Gospel.

From there, the spawning of Blues and Jazz
And it was fascinating, it was The Birth of Cool
Muddy Water's said it "You know the blues got soul."
He claimed the "Blues had a baby
And they named the baby Rock and Roll."

Black American music remained on the cutting edge
With Soul, Funk and Disco, R&B, Hip-hop and Rap.
The world owes much to many great American musicians,
,But particularly the Black, they've done it with style and grit.
I bent
and broke
the rules
allowing
my siblings to
get away with
******.
Bless you wherever you are
Windswept child on a shooting star
Restless Spirit depart
Still we're deep in each others heart

Some people say it's over
Now that we've spread our wings
But we know better darling
The hollow ring is only last years echo

Bless you whoever is holding her now
Be warm and kindhearted
And remember although love is estranged
Now and forever our love will remain
J.L
My brother called me and asked what I was doing
when I said I was blocking bots there was complete silence

I'm inclined to side with the dearly departed George Carlin
He told us we don't have freedoms we only have privileges

Privileges that they can take away at anytime they please
There is so much going on in the world that is heavy handed

How do we move past this, the people that have the majority of the weapons. Highly sophisticated death dealing hellfire weapons

To keep people in line while they siphon off those dollar bills
If you want what they have go ahead and try and join them.

Their power becomes so perverted  they care more about controlling people than they care about what they can buy.

*** in all its forms is how they get their jollies. *** with children
Is prized, defecation and urinating on each other turn their crank.

This all plays out in the public eye and they get away with it.  
All that money can buy weapons yet we outnumber them.

If I were in the shoes they wear I would not feel safe. They control through manipulation. They will not give up their power easily.
Out behind
the blood red barn.
Hauling off a cigarette,
all of 12 years old.

Across the spring sewn fields
at the edge of the treeline
a bobcat, seemingly oblivious
to my shenanigans, moves slowly, methodically.
Perhaps looking for some small snack.

The wisps of clouds
cast see-through shadows
on the landscape.

My mind drifts with the
run-of-the-mill thoughts.
Thoughts of a boy out of touch
with the adult work-a-day world.

I'm just trying not
to get caught smoking,
neglecting to take any precautions
like washing my hands
or even chewing some gum.
Blue Jay
you're very blue today.

Did your Hen
leave you,

leaving all your blue skies
to turn to grey.

Blue Jay
your voice is so shrill,

you sound as if
you are moving in for the ****.

It appears to me
that you are absolutely free.

Blue Jay
you show the way,

the Universe
is at your disposal.

Why would I be left in the cold.
Picking nasty notes
Not the yellow ones
That stare back at you right
Before you open the fridge-door
But, blue ones that wave to my ear
Under the moon that is
Breaking through the picture window
Notes in the air, notes expressing despair
The moon shines for no one
It is late, no traffic
The radiator hisses and ticks and pops
Trying hard to vocalize between plucked notes
Mighty vibrations vibrating
Blues dark blue, blues light blue
Blues hurting, angry, breaking free
Into a turquoise green-blue sea
Back to the black of night
With the moonlight and a salty tear on ones cheek
Phil the Harp man
Walking the walk
With one foot
In the grave
Keeping your
Head held high
Knowing
Your end of days
We all pray
That your Spirit flies
When you are laid to rest
Not all of you dies
You live on
In the mind of others
We all hold you in Heart
We are your sisters and brothers
I'm just passing time,
I'll ask you please, won't you excuse the rhyme.

But I hear the rhythm
And it's packing a beat.

Some times the words come
and they sound so sweet.

Now I promise you, the next time that we meet,
I'll be sure to have them on me.

Because one never knows
just what impression is being left.

It's a hell of a life,
I'm glad I'm along for the ride.

I feel the older I get
the less I have to hide.

I see us all as
one hell of a big Spirit,

I hope you do too
real deep inside.

On most days
I can hold my own.

I go down my path
like a rolling stone.

I stop to smell the flowers
and I get lost and I stay for hours.

If you ever had the blues
you know everyone has been in your shoes.

Don't go away angry,
I didn't mean to hurt you.

I never wanted to hurt anybody,
or so my story goes.

But sometimes my wind is out of control
And it will knock things over as it blows and blows.
Way up
In these clouds
Just as my expecations
Did fall ******* my head
Full of those child like dreams.

Remembering a future
And ignoring a past
That could break
Any fragile strong-man
On any bright new day.

Why can't I
Make you leave me alone
Even here,
Up in the blue sky
Above the white clouds
So far away from home.
This was written fresh after a break-up while in flight from Halifax toVancouver.
Way up
in these clouds
just as my expectations
did fall ******* my head
full of those child like dreams

Remember an future
and ignoring a past
that could break
any fragile strong-man
only bright new day.

Why cant I
make you leave alone.
Even here,
up in the blue sky,
above the white clouds,
so far away from home.
Way up
in these clouds
just as my expectations
did fall ******* my head
full of those child-like dreams.

Remembering a future
and ignoring a past
that could break
any fragile strong-man
on any bright new day.

Why can't I
make you leave me alone.
Even here,
up in the blue sky,
above the white clouds...
so far away from home.
Way up
in these clouds
just as my expectations
did fall ******* my head
full of those childlike dreams.

Remembering a future
and ignoring a past
that could break
any fragile strong-man
on any bright new day.

Why can't I
make you leave me alone.
Even here,
up in the blue sky,
above the white clouds
so far away from home.
Honkin' on the harp.
Knowing when you're flat,
knowing when you're sharp.
You got it, that's where it's at.

I **** myself every time they cheer,
and I got to get paid, I have to get paid.
They all ask, 'can I buy you a beer',
and the girls say, 'do you want to get laid'?

I listen to other players and I swallow up their licks
So cool to be given this gift, I thank God.
So much fun, it's how I get my kicks
It's like I feel our Father's giving me the nod.

Bluesy blue eyes, looks like he's devouring a cob of corn
***** blue eyes, had one too many tonight.
Still he pulls it off while playing his horn,
The smoky bar, the light chatter, the bright stage lights.
The walls
plastered with
photos of 'our time'.

No sudden moves
and a need to sleep,

all *******
in twisted sheets.

There is
some kind of
Voodoo in the air,

yes there is,
and it's got me good.

I smile and say
"I love you"
but you don't care,
no, not like I think you should.

You came to me
without a label,

I pried you open
expecting something sweet,
only to behold a can of worms.

Addicts
swimming
around in the sea,
whispering
                "Hook me, hook me".

Good-bye,
so long,
solo I fly and
when I'm gone,
no need to look back
or ask myself why.

I have more power
than that crazy old Boogie-Man,
you see, I made him up,
he's in my mind.

A figment of my imagination.

As useless
as **** on a bull,
looking
none the worse
for wear and tear.

In the end
it is what you are
that determines
what you will heal,

You have to locate
yourself before
it's really real.
Dismantle government
Let the rich help

Divide us into
Four Hemispheres

North South East West
Four strong Four bold

Take what we know
And squeeze out

All the good from
What we are learning

We adopt and adapt
Walk before we run

All humanoid
One planet one sun
They say that
Robert Johnson
and Bob Dylan
sold their Souls
to Beelzebub.

It's just like
them there
preachers..
all they want
is a wee donation
of five little dollars.

Give me your poor
they say, but not too poor...
We've got a spire that we desire.

And forget the soul
of the bed sore *****.  

We want you all...
though the bone white ones,
they get First Class
on the Jesus Jet.
A game of mini golf
between the tombstones
bouncing the ball off
the trellis archway
knocking into a tree trunk
on the perimeter
to put the ball  back into play

Greyish black
skeletons wielding
irons and woods
Their sunken eye sockets

A perfect place to insert golf *****
then they pop them out
grab them to their palm
slap them to their mouth
and **** them back
like  Jaw Breakers
Cashing out
at the grocers

I complained,
boy these prices
are really going up fast.

The cashier spat out:
It's the Russians, Russian oil-

We human beings can be a sad and sorry lot.
true story
Fresh back
On the street
From prison
A pumped up
Hilarious Hercules
Forced to sleep
Under a bridge
Along with
The broken
And dead
Wind blown umbrellas

Now, yet another
Up-rooted
Member of the homeless
Flashing his *******
At these so called modern times
Not even a bottle of wine
To keep him company

The whining engines
Of passing cars
Echoing off the
Concrete and steel
Ripping and tearing
At his overblown ego
shredding it into strips

He knows it wont be long
Before he returns to a cell block
By his own choice
Not knowing anything
But a life of crime since his youth
Hidden in the shadow
of the Soul owner,

born in the body
while the whole is hidden.

No worldly value
can be attached to this.

The magic of Life
is not theirs to claim.

They drag the cross
painless, not fearless.

Their way, it
pulls at me,

it burns my lips.
My fingertips stretch

to touch the Heirs overflow.
Fears cloud my eyes

as I watch
time tic loudly.

© 1986
Reading C.S. Lewis at the time.
Under a
Canopy of trees
Seeing the sunlight
Through the leaves.

Born to create
Within myself
The Universal debate.

Standing
On the corner
Lips licking my chops
Hoping for a drink of water
Waiting for a cool breeze.

Out on
The ocean
Not sure of the date
Going by
The compass
I'm sure you can relate
Looking toward the stars
To help me navigate.

Up high
Above the clouds
In a widow seat
I look across it all
What it is
That is healthy
What is is that's diseased.

And I need to state
The awe of it all
Fills me with grace
And brings me to my knees.
to hold the universe
    i left my mind        
and
the edge of spirit
                      became the
                       boundary line.
   the whole
                       is hidden
                                     in the darkness.


i die to live
    with the hope
over having hold over angels..

yesterday, i courted your way...
believing that the riseing ashes
would bring an unimaginel glory.

Now, once again
i'm  on a mission.

now i can move ahead,
   not staying home in stead.

what do  you do.. you do it well.  you
live and learn,
be pulled this way and to be pulled that way.
and what's the alternative.... lay down a die.
I want
to work
my Vision.

Oh, I pretend
I remember,
'way
back when:

The day was
my expected
day of arrival.

It was so hard
to move around.

I didn't
want
to come out..

..I didn't
know
what was
out there,
and I guess
I had
enough
distractions
as it were.

-Brake-

Flash!
'dollars to donuts.

If I get
my feet
back on
solid ground,
or,
if you
ring
that
bell,
a mad
dog
will
come
a runnin',

and
you'd
wish
that you
could
motor
just a
little bit faster.


© 2013
Brenda'lee, Brenda'lee,
no i can't chase you girl.
Brenda'lee, Brenda'lee,
you're just too fast for me.

200 miles to see you i come
and you won't get outta bed,
make me mad and then some,
now what has got into your head.

Sometimes you're so lovey dovey girl,
you make my head spin,
then you go and freeze me out,
seems sometimes, i can never win.

Now, Brenda'lee, we've known each other
for so many years,
why not get a little closer
instead of giving me the gears.

If there ain't no change in the weather, darlin',
i'm going to have to give you up.
I should have known better baby,
next time i'll have better luck.


©   2013
Try it, you'll like it

Said the man in front
of the liquor store

Chain-smoking
filter-less camel cigarettes

Grinning through
nicotine stained teeth
little
bit a this

little bit a that

don't
you yell
at me

don't you call
me fat

I'm
built for
comfort

I
ain't
built
for speed

let
me
know
what
you what

sweet
daddy
got
every
thing

sweet momma need
oldbluestune
* Willie Dixon
I'll be right here putting all my eggs in one basket
Sweeping sentences into the corners of my cranium
Shaking the cobwebs free to feather in the light breeze

Passing ancient ruined relationships gone down with the ship
The proverbial creek with out the paddle rocks left rocks right
In my right mind there is no turning back you see

You worked hard for what you got welcome to all your stuff
Let's us go for a stumble spilling beer down the front of our shirts
I will skip across the waves like a flat stone to meet my burial at sea
summertime brings
high heat and humidity,
so much light you want to catch it all

in an air-conditioned room
then step into the street
to be smothered by the humidity

it's like  extra gravity
pulling my inner workings
closer to the ground

it's like dense smoke
relieving me of  my ability
to take  deep breaths

here i am complaining
a canadian complaining about our summer
i see it in others, mainly the elderly, but still
colder than
the well diggers *****
off the brass monkey(on my back).

crouching over like an old man
taking the shape of a question mark.

can't wait for spring at break(my) neck speed,
if i was in the possession of an ulcer,
it would stand up in protest
and begin to bleed.

© copyright 2012


All Rights Reserved
Yes.. it is cold and we haven't hit the deep freeze weather yet.
I come to find
that I relate
I relate to the
persons places
and things
in my world

My relating
is how I see life
not only mine
but yours as well

I relate to the joy
I relate to the pain
I relate to them
again and again

Can you relate?
Riding wheels
of thought while
with fresh stream
and campfire.

Scot Bay's crust
below a split's stair,
milk woven mist
under hand to sea,
sowing Morphina's silvery sleep.

I begged to fly the flag
as you started the mornings fire,
a bottle of gin to halt chattering teeth.

Two full days of bliss.
The shadows fall and
all in all
nightfall
will soon be upon us.

The campfires
smoking
giving the darkness
a grayish tinge.

This Split juts
out into the Fundy Bay,
now with the sun gone
it will grow even colder.


Low laying clouds
mingle with the smoke,
if you remain quiet
you can hear more that the crackle
of the burning wood.

From behind the trees,
something eerie
to make you shiver.
To let you know you are in the wild.

A stream runs through the woods.
The fresh water for the morning coffee
has already been drawn,
plastic jugs and canteens full.

There are bears
and coyotes and deer 
out here,
but in all the time
coming out to
this breath taking cliff
I have never run into either.

This time I have come
with a purpose other than
the fresh air and sounds of the ocean
far below.

My father's last wish,
to have his ashes
scattered over the side
to the rocks and water.

This is where he grew up,
the small village at the base of the cliff.
I was born here and I never called it home.
Now I am proud to come from such
a beautiful place.

My mother, a native,
my father, an import from Boston.
So much history needing to be sifted through.
So much a mystery when it comes to my Dad.

A plaque will adorn the small cemetery,
with my fathers full name,
-Irving Richard MacPherson-
My mother already buried there.

He never liked his name
so he called himself Richard.
Now I find myself choosing Irving
over Kenneth for mine.

I will die and when I do
I will join my father
in the vastness of the Atlantic.
Such a beautiful end to a good life.
It's your time to shine
if you want to live in a world full of ****

I look around and see
so many people  with their
******* in a knot

It can be a grind if you're not into it
you don't want to starve, you don't want to die
I will not roll over in some shelter's cot

The plan hit the fan, your monies are no good
Keep poor, as our middle class become poor, much to lose
Don't trust anyone, just make sure you have a car to live in it
Work toward your **** goals
While they continue to move the Goalposts

Next, endless Emergency Powers
So they continue to keep you subservient

Don't be fooled by the hand that they hold
Fuckn insanity, your soul has been sold
joe king
It's like a catch-22
You ****** if you don't
Your ****** if you do
To be owned, own like a slave like a slave

I tell you what
I will do the prep work
You stand and keep six
And I'll take a match  to the spoon
And cook-up another fix

Waiting for mister green
Is like having an open hole in your head
Somedays living in this world
Feels like I'd be better off dead

Yes they'll loose the lions
Here in the Coliseums ring
But it's over until the Fat Lady sings
.
Next page