Itch those *****, player
Itch them red raw
Bleeding?, who cares!
Embrace your oozy pores
Itchy itchy morning rise
Scratchy scratchy nights
Give me a show I'd like to forget
Make me close up tight
Itch those *****, giant manchild
Itch them to completion
Whatever you got to do, do
During itchy and scratchy season

As I grow older I want to look back on the good times I've had, but would it be weird if I also said the bad?
Because without the bad times, there couldn't possibly be any good times?
Footsteps on stones, gravel and bones,
I want a memory to last a life time that surpasses me beyond the stage of deaths door steps.
Where will I go, where will you go, when this life is over?
Every morning when my eyes open, my nostrils breathe the dusty particles of my dusty bedroom floor...but the comfort is within, knowing to be here.
Time's stand still, but not for long when you're half a century gone.

I dared to be different
They did not want different
So I did not want them

All these poems
We write
To save our lives.

To preserve like amber,
Only more futile.

To hope and pray our children
May live on and bless
What’s left of mankind.

May move them with their liveness,
Their boldness, their plain old truth.
Even if all they ever did was express
How they really felt to be alive.