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Tommy Johnson  Dec 2013
RISE
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
You can hear the voices of our peers being silenced, ignored, shunned and distorted.
Staggering out of their bedroom doorways to the street corner to score a dime bag.
Bright, insightful millennials freezing in search of warmth from something to believe in that will encourage them to look forward to see another day.
Where our economy has made financial prudence clear when talking about education, yet price tags of university tuition's skyrocket.
The refused, the ones with hope but no money or scholarships; tread the streets with the echoes of electro house pulsing in their skulls.
Those who strip themselves down and shred their own morals to scraps just to find themselves and to see their own limitations.
Searching for answers to the unknown, to ascertain what they are, who they are and why.
Timid in high school, pushed along with nothing and no one to put their creative vigor into.
The squeakiest wheels that were never even considered to be given a good greasing.
Faculties giving them lethargic hellos on the first day of school, bestowing celebrated goodbyes to them on graduation day, diplomas in hand.
Now are the ones slumped over in a lackadaisical position contemplating how they can afford an education.
They work eight to ten at seven twenty five an hour Monday to Friday; and weekends staying in as not to blow their earnings.
Those who commute to university and balance a job with it, I applaud you.
The bewilderment of adulthood, the overabundance of pressure and responsibility.
Awakened from nightmares of lost opportunities, missed trains and lost contacts.
To step out of bed and splash water onto a severely distressed face and staring into a mirror with a despairing look.
Then hoping a bus to Garfield to bring back weight for all the embryonic smokers not yet at the point of make or break, just save up enough to pave my own way.
Gazing at the town on a roof top, chugging down the tenth…no…twelfth beer of the night wondering how this all happened.
Wild sensations of kissing an attractive stranger, the rush of touching on things never felt, tasting pleasures only the lucky have known.
The passionate, yet dissolute yearning for that ever eluding ******* adrenaline. Pounding, Pounding, Pounding until the culmination of energy has come.
Flip sided to those dizzying, tear jerking thoughts of suicide, annihilation of ones being, the contradictions of their faith in themselves and the people around them.
Unexplainable waves of anxiety crashing onto the shore of a diminutive island of optimism
Striving to look past the panic, the gloominess and fury that may or may not be present. But to remain composed and press forward to what awaits them.
Coffee keeps them going. Cup after cup, late night cramming every bit they can; into their caffeine driven psyches until the indisputable crash and failure.
Packs and packs of menthol cigarettes to calm their rattling nerves but at the same time killing them slowly. Their lives will seem shorter than the time it took to finish one bogey when death is near.
Marijuana induced ventures to run down burger shacks, laughing hysterical in the car ride, eyes heavy with a most ridiculous elastic grin extending from ear to ear. While inside millions of thoughts and realizations of consciously simple speculations and troubles become clear and unproblematic. So the joy is mirrored outside in.
LSD trips in Petruska dancing and singing in the rain! Making music, making love; playing pretend and creating art. Becoming a family while kicking back under the warmth of an illuminated tree on a cool fall night.
MDMA streaming through the body, everything is as it should be
Beautiful, lovely to touch, wondrous to stroke, marvelous to move.
To contact and connect, converse and converge with the dwelling desire to share what you feel with everyone for it would be selfish and unpleasant to keep it in.
Mushrooms oh the emotional overflow I need not say more but ****.
Then there are over the counter candies, Oxycontin, ******, Adderall and Xanax, painkillers and antidepressants. Ups, downs, side ways and backwards.
Selling addiction and dependency legally to kids. Making heroine, ******* and speed easily obtainable to them. Changing the names and giving out prescriptions so the parents can feel like they're actually helping their children but are subconsciously making it easier on themselves because they cannot handle the way their offsprings actually are. Some parents a feel it is the only way, I wish it wasn't so. Becoming zombies, mindless addicts before they even start to mature into puberty. I've seen it, firsthand front row.
Oh, the monotonous, mundane rituals and agendas of our lives. School, work, sleep eat, the sluggish schedules and repetitions of yesterday's conversations and redundancy of itineraries we had plotted months prior.
Same people, the constant faces of boredom that groan in apathy and hold the fear of complacency.
We talk about how hum drum out lives have become and what we could to put some color in our world but don’t.
We speak of how unfair the system is but ultimately confuse ourselves and everyone else due to lack or organization and dedication so nothing is changed.
We speak of breath taking women we want to share ****** fantasies with but can’t even muster enough courage to send a trivial friend request.
Texting away for hours trying to court those who now occupy our minds and possess our hearts hoping they may allow us to acquire their attention and affection. Calling them only to receive futile dial tones and know we are being evaded.
Weeping on and on for seemingly endless time frames of a dilapidated relationship that was so strained that a miniscule breeze could cause it to collapse but still clinging to every memory as if they were vital hieroglyphics depicting your very essence.
Brilliant theories blurted out in a drunken stupor.
Ingenious hypothesis shrouded in marijuana smoked out room.
Remembrance of friends long gone.
The marines, the navy.
The casualties of drug addiction.
The conquerors or their afflictions.
The scholars.
The insane locked away on the flight deck never to be seen again.
Teenage mothers unsure of themselves, abandoned by their families for they believe that they brought fictional shame upon the family’s name. The fate of the child is unclear but the mother’s everlasting love shines through any obscurities in its way.
Dear mother of the new born winter’s moon may the aura of life protect you and your baby.
The father gone without a trace.
He will never know his daughter.
And it will haunt him forever.
Parents bringing up their kids with values and morals, The Holy Bible, mantras and meditation, the Holy Quran, The Bhagavad Gita, and Upanishads. Islamic anecdotes and Jewish parables.
The names all different
The message the same
The stories unlike
Goals equivalent
Faith
Kabala, Scientology and Wicca
Amish and Mormons
All separate paths that intertwine and runoff each other then pool into the plateau of eternal life.
But do we have faith in our country, our government?
They do not have faith in us. Cameras on every street corner, FBI agents stalking social media, recordings of our personal lives and police brutality. 4th amendment where have you gone?
We say farewell to Oresko the last veteran of the last great war. And revisit the Arab spring, Al-Assad’s soldiers opening fire on innocent protesters, one hundred fifteen thousand lay dead. Bin laden dead, Hussein hanged, Gaddafi receiving every ounce of his comeuppance. War, terrorism, the fear of being attacked or is it an excuse to secure our nation's investments across the sea? Throwing trillions of dollars to keep the ****** machine cranking away, taxes, pensions, credit scores, insurance and annuities all cogs in the convoluted contraptions plight.
My dear friend contemplates this every night laying in bed, fetal position; the anxiety if having to be a part of this.
Falling apart on the inside but on the outside, an Adonis, *******, Casanova wanna be. Who worshiped the almighty dollar, gripping it so tightly until it made change, drank until he had his fill falling face first into the snow. The guy who lead on legions of clueless girls wearing their hearts on their sleeves not knowing he had a girlfriend the entire time. Arranging secret meetings in hidden gardens, streaking into the early morning. Driving to Ewing in his yellow Mustang to woo a sado masochistic girl. The chains and whips do nothing to him he is already numbed by the thrill. Then he comes home, lays in bed until one, with no job and having people pay for his meals.
He knows what he does and who he is wrong. He recites and regurgitates excuses endlessly. He cries because he knows he is weak, he knows he must fix himself. I sit on the edge of myself with my fingers crossed hoping maybe, maybe he will set himself straight.
My chum who can talk his way out of any confrontation and into a woman’s *******. Multitudes of amorous affairs in backrooms, backseats, front rows of movies theaters. Selfish, boastful and ignorant, yet woman fling themselves at him like catapulted boulders over a medieval battle field just to say hello. These girls blind to see what going on, for their eyes were taken by low self esteem. A need to be accepted, to feel wanted even only for fifteen minutes. Poor self image, daddy issues, anorexic razor blade slicing sirens screaming on about counted calories and social status. Their uncontrollable mental breakdowns and emotional collapse. Their uncles who ***** them, their parents who split up and confusing their definition of love and loyalty for the rest of their lives. Broken homes, domestic abuse and raised voices, sending jolts of fright into the young girl’s fragile minds. I send my sorrows to you ladies, to see such beautiful creatures suffer then be used and thrown away with the ****** that was just ****** deep into their *****.
Then I see women and men of marvelous stature, romantic in the streets holding everyone and everything in high regards. Finding beauty in anything and anyone. Enjoying every second as if the rapture was over head eating exotic foods from unheard of countries and cultures. Bouncing to the sound of whimsical , reverb ricochets and sense stimulating music. Huffing inspiration to create something out of thin air. Dancing to retired jazz and swing albums as if no time had past since their conception. Wearing bold colors and patterns, thrifty leather shoes or suede.
Dawning pre-owned blazers because why spend hundreds of dollars on new clothes just to look good but feel uncomfortable with a hole in your pocket. Dressing up but dressing down, so class yet urban I love it, chinos, pea coats and flannels so simple but chic.
At night they go to underground dens, sweaty bodies, loud music and freedom. Expressive manifestations glowing fueled with MDMA and other substances to further their enjoyment of the dark glorious occasion. Kandi kids sporting colorful bracelets, not watches for time is of no concern to them, they have all eternity they know that.
Going to book stores, coffee shops just to have some peace of mind and a moment of silence to themselves so that can weave the tapestry of imaginative innovation. Writing their own versions of the same story, endless doors of perception, reading news papers and taking it with a grain of salt. Watching the news on TV with a hand full of salt. Searching for the real story so they can know if the world they all live in is actually safe.
She who made her own way breaking hearts, rolling blunts and making deals. The flower child of the modern age, left the rainy days in search of radiant sunshine, idealistic. Reality was subjective, purple dyed hair, multicolored sweater with sandals on her feet. A ten inch bowl with bud from California packed in tightly. Coming from Dumont to Bergenfeild then on to Philly to Mount Vernon. Off to Astoria and the Heights. Now to Sweden laying in the grassy plains below the mountains. Good for you my friend whom I have loved, may fortunes of unsullied joy come to you and all you meet.
Since you’ve left I have encountered drunken burly firemen just trying to have a good time. Pounding down Pabst Blue Ribbon as if it were water; as if it were good tasting beer. But heroes none the less.
EMT's, young eighteen years old high school graduates, saving lives reviving people who are a mere inch close to death.
Sport stars getting scholarships thanks to their superior skills and strength.
Striking beauty school students who are into making the people of this world a little bit more beautiful on the outside.
All these people, successful, doing things. Departing to their desired destinations. I see inside them, they carry baggage, loneliness and insecurities. I can feel their guilt slowing them down. All have their loads but it’s the way they carry them that shows who they really are. And to me their all gems.
Not far in Paterson I watch the junkies limping across busy winding street, perusing a severely needed fix. “Diesel!” they shout beneath flickering streetlights, asking for spare change and if bold enough a ride to some shady sketchy place. I give them a dollar and politely decline. They’ll die without it. Vomiting up bile and blood, twitches and shivers are all you feel when it’s not in you. They cannot stop, they need help. Why not help them instead of “assisting” those who are homosexual? Cleansing so they can be granted entry to the kingdom of God. Looking down on people who have found love and understanding and a deep attraction to others who just so happen to share alike genitals.
Narrow minded uproars about the spread of AIDS, nonsense! The puritanical onslaught of those who want nothing more than the rest of us, love. "Gay", "****", "******", "queer", how about "kind", "funny", "genuine human being"? The right to be married and divorced should be an option for everyone to enjoy. The strains and hardships of matrimony are yours if you want them. If you don’t agree don’t hate or harm just allow them to be peacefully. Same goes for anything for that matter, Jehovah's going door to door, Mormons from Burbank. New ideas are never a bad thing, they’re not a waste of time. On average you have about eighty years to mull over your options.
Some people don’t live long enough to do so, cancer is rampant, blood diseases, ****** diseases, natural disasters coming right out of left field and blindsiding the innocent bystanders of both hemispheres. Some go through life handicapped, autism is apparent these days. Schizophrenia, Asperburgers, ADD and ADHD. Some lose their golden memories of their many valuable years walking down Alzheimer's Lane, not being able to remember whatever transpired only a few moments ago but revisiting gold nuggets from from fifty-some-odd years ago with ease. Some go through life delusional or bipolar. Some can't even sleep at night but they still carry on. And if assistance is needed it is our job as a race to help our brothers and sisters, no one deserves to be excluded from the gala of life. Or be denied by society and pumped with brightly colored pills from doctors promising a cure but prescribing a crutch.
Finding solace in sincerity.
The serendipity of it all hasn’t been uncovered and that keeps me going.
“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world above, below and across. Unhindered without ill will without enmity.” Oh Buddha the truth as it ever was.
Who is he who keeps these thoughts from the conscious minds of the population?
Who is it that distracts us from the humbling beauty and overwhelming devastation of this place of existence we’re in?
It’s they who do under the table parlor trick behind our backs.
Those who broadcast mind numbing so called reality TV shows without an underlying value or meaning.
Those who produce music, proclaiming extravagance to be the end all be all gluttonous goal we all should aim to achieve.
And those who turn noble causes into money making scams and defile pure ideas.
And of course those who give false promises of easily obtained  bright futures, those who don’t care, those who steal, ****, curse, bad mouth and lie. But still manage to get elected into positions that more or less decide out fates. Monsters, demons, banshees howling inconsequential worries and leaving us deaf to hear the real issues.
The
Brandon Edwards Jul 2014
As we kiss,
Our hips like waves of flesh crash together.
Into one another they collide like two craters pulled in by gravity.
Our bodies connect like two streets at an intersection,
Lines "X" and "Y".
Your body as if a black hole ***** me in.
I ****** moving deeper with every movement.
You moan,
Such an ear tingling sound.
It slips through clenched teeth, only after climbing up your throat.
A song like no other,
Made only when your body is pushed to its point of bliss.
As we kiss,
Your heart races as if running for Olympic gold.
Your mind becomes clouded by a satisfying fog.
The sensitivity of our bodies skyrocket.
Our body's are overheated by our sensual passion.
Our hands intertwining fully making us one entity.
As we kiss,
Ecstasy in it's most unsullied state is reached.
Megha Balooni  May 2015
Crackers.
Megha Balooni May 2015
I saw her
I saw her smile
Focus out through the sparkle
Reflecting from her danglers
And the ones in the atmosphere.
Turquoise sequinned with beige
Crackers, all around her
Our first new year
Where she took me by
My hand, entangling fingers
Lacing, when she thought she'd
Lost me,skipping between
White walls and brown floors
Finding a way out
Through the maze.

Low hung ceiling lamps.

Dragging me back through my memory doors
Remains the same
White walls and brown floors
While I wait outside.

Inside you're having your chemo.

Crackers
Inside my heart
Slithering through my mouth
I see her in between
Those flinging and swinging

Prayer flags, I recollect
Hanging them in the backyard
Of our home, you
Bargained them out
A flea market, before
That year's Diwali
You had inside of you
A life that would bless us
In three months.

A tangerine Georgette Saree
And rhyming with it,
Rani colored bangles
Sneaking up on the roof.

Crackers
White walls, wooden floors
You lie quiet, unmoved.

A skyrocket ups in a distance
As I light you up in flames.

Crackers
You'd always come back
Focusing, defocusing
My memories' pitaara
Sparkling, dangling
Skipping and lacing
Through all those crackers
Lighting me up
Jonny Angel Jul 2014
Constantly she
visits me
in this
after midnight hour.
Her great power
speaks volumes
as she
consumes me
& together we
end up,
way up high,
riding furiously
on the skyrocket
of love,
sighing.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Those shortcakes tallest skyrocket
His pocket, a poem mountain
top setting words whip cream
Him and her fountain sunset love
Above all "Strawberry pie" dream
The oven overloved to trust
Or underbaked the pie crust

One bite the skywriting
Told her I love you
My strawberry eye patch
Powdery her lips "Smuckers" rich
Her strawberry sky velvet sigh
Strawberry field forever lake
Her cheeks like a piece of cake
The Prom with Tom what a Sawyer
The true love strawberry buyer
This is one of my shorter poem Strawberry shortcake cream on top how many times I sang this song I hope you will come to my Strawberry showing it's my strawberry love fountain of youth
BrittneyForever May 2016
Our love is like the stock market
I never know when we’ll go up or down
I can’t tell if we're about to skyrocket or hit rock bottom.
Should we just give up and take our bows,
Do we have the patience to say our vows?
But we're living in the now, and we're too busy to figure out the hows.  
We invested so much time
we both have almost lost our minds,
One of us is either falling behind.
We can never get on the same page,
Who are you fronting for,
Our loves not displayed on a stage.
Where do you keep spending all your time?
Forgetting me should be a crime.
I’m starting to wonder what you’re always thinking about
I guess you leave me no choice, so baby I'll tap out*--
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
I'm a human of the contemporary times
A millennial, part of Generation Y
A digital native in shrink wrap
An open minded, wide eyed, big mouthed wind tunnel

A genetic, mathematical, anatomic error
I'm souped up and decked out
I'm high maintenance with low standards
My humor is low brow, my expectations are nonexistent
I see the negatives as positive
I see the positives as negative
I think in subjective and objectives
I'm on the web
But off the grid

My pockets full
But my wallets empty

I'm over educated
But underemployed
I'm overworked
But under paid

I'm a bisexual, bipolar by product of society
I'm a hardworking, dedicated procrastinator
I'm an inarticulate fat head who isn't afraid to speak his mind
I'm a cold hearted hothead
I can hear, some times I don't listen
I'm clean and polished to get my hands *****
I work my fingers to the bone
Then cross them in hope of better tomorrow
And knock on wood until my knuckles bleed

You can check my Facebook profile
Read my Tweets
Scroll through my Instagram
Send me a Snapchat
And you can kiss my ***
I'm non-toxic
I'm irreplaceable
I'm a rarity
I'm an oddity
I'm offbeat
Off centered
Off color
Off kilter
Out of tune
Out of my mind
Hypersensitive
Indifferent
Rude
Crude
And universally unacceptable

I'm wasting time
And taking up space
But I'm living it up
I won't die down
I'm two steps ahead
I'm left behind
Coasting on thin ice
Walking the edge
Pushing the limit
And taking a nap
I'm greedy
I'm *****
I'm lazy
I'm angry
I'm cocky
I'm envious
And I'm
Not sorry

I like laying low
I love being high
I don't want to be a stick in the mud so I get ******
I'm a street smart *******
I'm book smart dumb ****
I'm an eloquent gutter mouth
I speak in
****** vernacular
Passionate profanity
Cynical sarcasm
And choleric curses
I have criminal ties
And it suites me
I'm a ball hogging, showboating team player
I'm a devoted alcoholic
I'm a thrifty shopaholic
I'm in school
But out to lunch

I've got friends
I've got enemies
I've got my family
And I've got problems
I hear voices in my head
I see things that aren't there
I over look
Over analyze
And over think
I under cook
Under appreciate
And underestimate

I use my WiFi to listen to LoFi
I watch low quality television in Hi Def
I'm a bombastic contentious objector
Taken aback but forwardly thinking
In your face
Out of stock
Unisex
I get down
And get it up
I'm a low key middle man
Undeniable
Unlikable
But lovable
A grounded skyrocket
Detachable
Seasonal
Unflappable
An everlasting
Know nothing
Know it all
I'm a egg-headed basket case
I'm a real heel
A loafer
I got the boot
Because he couldn't afford to live in a shoe
Or the box it came in
I'm broke
I'm busted
Discussed
Disgusted
But I loved
I care
I help
I laugh
I try
I cry

I'm on the short bus for the long haul
I have no money but I always got my two cents
I'm good with secrets
I'm bad with numbers
And good with money
I'm bad with people
But yet they love me
I'm unbiased
Tolerant
And impatient
I'm abstract
I'm avant garde
I like violent ***
With volatile love
I like pornographic snapshots
******* ******* motion pictures
Live action lust
But nothing beats my meat like the real thing

I shop at second rate super markets
First rate second hand stores
I'm on cruise control in the fast lane
I'm double parked
I've been traumatized
Dramatized
Hospitalized
Ostracized
Demoralized
Desens­itized
Exorcised
And I've had my toes stepped on

I was a premeditated mistake
A failed abhorrent abortion
Vaccinated
Alienated
Regulated
And always medicated
I have a an attention span an inch wide
But, I'm real
I'm honest
I'm kind
I go hard
But  take it easy
I'm always slick
But never ******

Wheeling and dealing
Clipping and stealing
Lending and giving
Living and breathing

I think this one's a keeper
You've all dug me a little deeper
Hope you enjoyed my veracity
Because this poem is completely me
Crush
Crushed your soul
Your old wise soul
Made you hopeful
Cheerful
Hopeful

Made you dream
And wonder
And fanticise all you could be
All you could share

Forget imperfections
Forget ******* past mistakes
All we'd have was a future to look forward to
A future that could've been so **** good
If only you'd tried

I gave you all I new how to give
Made myself vulnerable
Feel smaller than I already do

And you, you giant
Made my insecurities skyrocket
Intimidation beyond comprehension
All for the boy I never really thought I had a chance with

The boy who was too good for me

The (imperfect) perfect boy
Jacob Peters Aug 2013
I'm not quite sure how addiction grabbed me
I picked it up slow but it grew so vastly
Started with *****
which turned to puffs, powder and pills
both downs and ups
  I'd have one in my hand
two more in my pocket
effects don't matter
just want to skyrocket
Please, take me away
to the places of unknown
help me escape
sober feelings, I've outgrown
No happy soul
been broken to pieces
the puzzle repairs
each time the **** hits
Hiding away
from both friends and family
deny every time
so please stop asking
A boy, once joyous
now fell from grace
peace of mind only comes
from numbing his face
No pride, sheer shame
pure feelings of failure
thoughts run wild'
Will it all end here?'
Partners in crime
now long deceased a harsh realization
of succumbing to the beast
Praying for help and
pleading for power
rise and prevail
stop trying to cower
There's a want and a need
plus strong will to succeed
to turn life around
since devoured by disease
Now I stand here humbled
with apologetic eyes
for my selfish acts
under a life self prescribed.
alex furlin  Jul 2012
Words
alex furlin Jul 2012
Little pockets of sound that skyrocket around
Words: verbs, adjectives, nouns

Words can get me steaming or lucid dreaming
And it leaves me silently screaming to see people consider words a weapon
Like they mean to cause harm
Well let me remind you I have the right to bear arms

Just because what’s on that page is mine
Doesn’t means it aligns with the ideals in my mind
Writing is expression, not confession
So when I write about a character who is confused and depressed
Buys a used gun and a bulletproof vest
And shoots up his classmates in the middle of a test
Because everyone ignored the signs of his anger
Doesn’t mean there’s a trench coat on my hanger

But nevertheless, they labeled me me a threat
Better yet, they focused on me instead of the 15 year old addicted to cigarettes
and took my words out of context
Because they are con-text
Well I’m pro-text and I protest that they suggest that I’m hopeless
and I know this coldness only hones my focus on my magnum opus

But where would we be without controversy?
The indirect side effect to freedom of speech
A beacon for speakin’ your mind without your rights being breached

It’s all in the name
When you write, you’re right
But when you advocate censorship, then you’re ****
My two cents are worth a million bucks
So who cares if they contain a million *****?
F-words might be wayward but in a way they aren’t F-words, they’re A-words

Because all words are equal on surface
Well, until one strikes a nerve with a conservative
Who, without even meeting me, determined me to be
The next **** Germany

I didn’t write a story about a school shooter
I wrote it about how one impressionable kid became a slave to the page
And lost himself in the rage as an unfortunate consequence

And it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense
That the school would let themselves fall victim to a nonexistent threat
Brought on by a few paragraphs on a pair of half ripped papers stapled and
Paper-clipped to the rest of my script

You can place the blame but you became that same shameful shell
Hell, you can expel me, but you can’t compel me
To stop yelling again with this paper and pen
Or a stage and a mic
Going without words is like an endless hunger strike

Being voiceless ain’t a choice for this
When I protest, I prefer to be heard
A whole lot can happen with a few simple words
epedeped  Feb 2010
Vacant
epedeped Feb 2010
my head is
a vacant lot
loaded with automatic cars
idling in a polluted environment
full of bidding corporations
run by empty businessman
who take advantage
of a selfish inward populace
that raise  violent  children
who  turn off their minds to the madness,  cruelty 
and cultural void at the local nightclub
called "Numb" or " E-tarded" 
and slobbering over drinks and beats 
like the sounds of horns
from a traffic jam
driven by impatient animals
 in a sheepfold bawing
their way to the nearest vaccination center
for thier imaginary  twinrix dose of 
swine ***** and orange juice
that skyrocket diabetes rates above google hits 
and fat conservative voter polls
broadcasted daily by popular media botox injections
that styme creativity
with  the same ****** music
played over and over and over
like the broken recorded rhetoric
that tell us to  destructively reach out 
to foreign countries
while  selling ourselves out for better cars
but increase profits and taxes
at the same rate of the rising  prison population
and shrinking contributions
to  health care , edU-caTion ,  community and environment
all the while you can hear the sheep bleat and beep and bleat and beep

I am tired,  and just now laying down
in my bed.. I can't believe I can finally
get some rest.

What a day, sweetie.
You were on my mind  all day
and I could  feel the tender-hearted
sadness and vulnerability welling up in you..
So very interesting that it has gone
this route.. and the gates open back up,
but with a well-oiled  swing this time...
And you are wondering if there is
really enough love available to  truly
save a person..  And you gasp out loud
as I pull you  close to me,
as if you did not know that was something
that could even be done in this world--
my hand to the small of your back
as my mouth presses  softly
to the side of your face..

and I whisper words of warm,  loving support,
           deeply into you--
  tears..  streaming down your beautiful face
    as your whole body trembles.

"This kind of world is so unfamiliar to me,
I don't even know how to be right now..  
And just as much..
   I have no idea how or what to feel.  
I've been crying a lot--  over all the
things I've had to face..
along with all of these changes.
And when I told you that I missed
you.. I really meant it.  

    ..But then you hurt me bad.. real bad"


You are angry and still hurt.
but you can't stop pulling at my shirt--
clenched in your hand, at my chest..
so much  that you are about to tear
my buttons.

"Why do you do that to me
when I need you so much..  
why.. when I open up and trust  

    and need you the most,  
            why do you do that?"


You are shaking me with both fists  now
but there is still the look  of deep
love in your eyes..  and as they look
directly into mine, your tears of anger
and hurt  give way to the overwhelming
desire to press  up against me..
and have me kiss you   deeply.

    Looming overhead
    is my cloud-incased,  need
    to  not  cast a vote  on the
    current status-quo..

     ..To  not  call today--
      'everything we've worked toward
      until today,  is enough'


"You will  end up
in my bed, beautiful girl..
and we'll be together--
pushing forward,  pushing  in to..
   everything that you have taken in,
   so far..
..But I am scared shitless  of the
ever-limiting nature  the
threat of mundaneness  brings about
by complacency within the inner-self..

..And so with you, my beautiful..
I light a skyrocket under  that
gorgeous, sweet *** of yours..
    And throughout  the cosmos
    And into the Realms  you shoot..

.. But am I not  always  the one
who catches you before you fully fall--
scary as the unfair launch into the sky is..
I have always, always  caught you."



"You have, Paul.
I'm going to fall in love  with you
harder than I ever have in my life
because of who you have
been to me throughout the years..

..But one day.. I'm gonna stand up
and punch you--  right in the nose..
   ..then leave..

   because of  h o w  you  have 
   been to me throughout the years."



"Damm right you will, Babe.
Now get the ****  over here       
      and give me a kiss..
      ..And you
      have to pretend like you like it, too.."


"I'm still mad at you Paul..
and you're such a pervert.  But I
know how much you love these,  
so I want to show them to you"


--As you gently  pull on your  cute,
flowery black dress's belt.. it slowly
unwraps  and falls down, onto the grass..

My eyes are staring at your beautiful body..
     that absolutely perfect skin..
those lusciously-gorgeous  *******..
the curve of those hips,  the shape of
your thighs..

    "Do you like what you see?"


"Ah, Babe..
    more than I have words for."





(but you see.. there's still this thing I do..)


xoxoxo

I am a lineman for the county
And I drive the main road

Searchin' in the Sun for another overload

I hear you singing in the wire..
I can hear you through the whine

And the Wichita lineman
Is still on the line

I know I need a small vacation
But it don't look like rain
And if it snows that stretch down South
Won't ever stand the strain

And I need you more than want you
And I want you for all time

And the Wichita lineman
Is still on the line
https://youtu.be/pqv0sHnD2cw


I really  was
trained as a mercenary, not as a cook.

— The End —