I would rather be a good man,
Than a scholar, any day.
So fuck all of the capitalists,
With their wages of higher pay.
I don't need a massive house,
Or a load of fancy shit.
I only want a simple life,
That is non-materialistic.
You need to learn, that man can't buy,
Some friendship or her love.
And memories are all we take,
When we depart for home above.
While you're out blowing money,
I'll just stick to spending time.
Taking journeys and adventures,
Capturing pictures in my mind.
See all I ever want,
Is a life of love and joy.
And to someday raise a daughter,
Who would someday meet a boy.
I could only be so lucky,
In fact, forever I'd be pleased,
If the boy she someday met,
Resembled younger me.
I know I'm not the greatest,
There's no arguing that.
But, I'll remain a gentle soul,
A true and simple fact.
So, call me a lazy slacker,
Perhaps I'll never strike it rich.
But, I'm always kind and caring,
And, I'll never act a bitch.
You can try to judge me,
And tell me how I'm wrong.
But, this one here is my life,
And I will live it 'til I'm gone.
Remember, even young Lloyd,
Knew that Gabriel rocks.
And he did what he loved,
And he loved to kickbox.
But see, the music and fighting,
Were mere entertainment and sport.
Instead, he pursued love,
From sweet Diane Court.
Now at night I sometimes dream,
To be slightly Dobler-esque.
Learn to strive for what I want,
Then cast aside the rest.
'cause money may try to alter,
The way people act and seem,
But, no currency will ever affect,
The fact that I am me.
Poetry is just a tool
To speak your mind, not serve as rule.
Constructed help to bear one's soul,
Declare one's love, or friend console.
To speak in verse is but a scheme,
A packaging for fancy dream.
Fixing meter's common place,
But it's up to the writer's taste.
To rhyme, to pair these simple sounds,
To fuel the whimsy, feed these hounds,
Can sometimes be itself a crutch,
Or hind'rance if it's used too much.
The feeling and it's heartfelt message,
Speak more than some structured presage;
Create your voice from humble words,
An ode or sonnet, praise or gird.
Loose your arrows, verbal arcs,
And dot the Earth with sharp remarks
And when the last launched barb should fall,
Who minds if they should rhyme at all?
-Asterisks indicate the necessity to pop your cheek with your thumb.
-Answer the two questions correctly and I will give you a hug.
He fell asleep while traveling time
where a true name
becomes everything else.
So please give me a minute to explain myself
through the doorways
that I see champagne on a windowsill
walking across the room with blue
and fine china feet
saying again and again
the words become a song
singing and swinging the bottle like a dinner bell for thirst.
A kind that we've settled to quench
and somebody else's dream.
So don't pour my drink.
I'm trying to uncork it with my thumbs.
and I still have a tongue
so I will use it and I
I will use my thumbs to push back time
becomes a baby.
Dr. King becomes a baby.
Until the left and the right and every dead genius in between
Tiny feet trying not to crush the wet salad of the lawn
because it is green,
like my heart
that has learned
how to break fine china.
let me tell you
it's a lot more tiresome than a blue dream
but he fell asleep on a boxcar crossing Germany
where mustard gas
drowns you in your own lungs
and he tries to breath between the joints in the track
Asking again and again,
"Who killed me?"
"Who am I?",
until dinner was served without grace.
Until my head becomes stiff and bubble shaped
having been conditioned by
So we should tell all the baby hitlers,
that become children
that become us,
that a lie
is what you become
when abusing language to distort a reality.
And when you make a fist
you are handing lies out at random on a silver tongue.
But I still have one
and I still have thumbs
so sorry to burst your bubble but,
I don't mean to put
I know it hurts
to have something so precious as the world
But walls hurt worse
and through them only muffled sounds are ever heard
until your world is made of mute prisoners
that have forgotten what silver
really sounds like.
for I also have ears
so give me second place
and I will throw the medal against your walls.
the universe doesn't look like an ebony tub,
with knobs we can't ever see,
full of infinite shining marbles to everybody.
is a library of language,
so free will isn't a book written in english.
those know nothing infants trying to travel,
Belonging like this medal bouncing trying to sing
off your wall
Where again it will ring,
we've all been runner up
we still get annoyed when another doesn't enter our library
instead of trying harder
let me say grace.
Let me set l o n g tables
with the gruel that's been given
served on b r n.
with sterling silver.
You were practically my big brother
You watched out for me.
You protected me.
When my ex tried to hurt me
You beat him up for me.
You quit your bad habits,
So you could be a better friend to me.
When I was upset and crying me eyes out.
You took me in your arms and calmed me down.
How will I live with out you.
You are now looking at me in heaven
Watching over me
you are my guardian angel.
But I want you down here on earth.
With me once again.
Marggrette misses you SO much.
You were her husband
and the father of her unborn child.
She Cries for you.
Please Come back to us.
Megan misses you.
When I told her you had moved on she cried.
She read your note to her.
She wishes you didn't have to go.
Why don't you come back PLEASE
Your life was full of bad things.
But you were just turning it around.
God had no right to tear you away from us.
You deserve a second chance.
You were so full of life.
The way you took care of Kianna,
Your real little sister.
The way you looked at Marggrete.
The way you knew how to PARTY
and have a great time,
I'm missing you already.
I'm already missing our annual weekend meets.
I know one day we will meet again.
When you help me through the golden gates of heaven.
But that is too far away.
I can still feel you with me.
It feels to serial to be true.
I know you haven't passed away.
Its just a dream.
Your still here with us.
OK I have to face the facts.
You're in heaven.
And I can't change that.
But I know you will be there,
Watching over me.
So This is my goodbye to you.
I Love you Alex-Jordan Jones
Fireflies in the park late at night
She whispers something in my ear
(abstract gluing tiles on random surfaces)
Jagged edges sticking out everywhere
Weird and for the most part bad haircuts
Punk rock shows and punk rock moshing and punk rock girls
Actually pretty good at playing guitar when I'm in the right mindset
Not easily proud
Classic rock blasting in the car, too loud for most of them
In the screeching highs of Plant and Rose
And in the deep low cuts of Slash and my heroes
All the birds in the world, all the time
Not over-dramatic, just dramatic enough, as he winks
Both impossibly ignorant and secretly wise (graced infrequently)
Words, words, words
Babble, ramble, gabbing, loquacious
Wordless, hungry, quite voracious
for any definition at all.
I'm the reaching summit and falling the who
ole way down, mister Sisyphus to you
I'm random dancing home alone
Singing my favorite songs in the shower and I can't help
Mouthing the words as I ride my bike
The burning desire to suddenly burst into song as in a musical!
A dream and a dreamer
A wizard in many ways
A jack of many trades
And a deuce of even more
I'm scratch-scratch-scratching at the door
...knob? oh, there it is
don't you just hate when during a dream
you find something that was missing
and then you wake up under sunlit beams
and feel silly for such reminiscing
Last Night I dreamt
As most often do
It was so very vivid
I could've sworn it was true
I sat up and gazed around
At the morning in my home
A little voice whispered in my head
I was not alone
So I laid back down
I took a deep breath and then
Closed my eyes to think back
To the Dream and where I'd been
I sat alone with Van Gough
So I could watch him paint
His life splashed upon the canvas
So he could forget his pain
The world seemed to disappear
As he he sat with a brush in his hand
He wasn't called mad by a world
That refused to understand
I stood beside Hemingway
With a strong drink in my hand
He told me stories of his life
Of war, women and Cuban Land
A large smile sat on his face
As he spoke and forgot about his strife
I drank his scotch and thought
Could I be as great in my life
I laid beside Elizabeth Short
And I watched her as she lay
I heard her speak of fame and stardom
And that she would know it one day
With stars in her eyes, she told me
Her name would be known far and wide
And it pained me to know
That she'd be known for only the way she died
Then I sat back and gazed upon all three
With which I had shared my time
I took their words to heart
And stashed them within my mind
I could be like Van Gough
And focus my pain and fear onto the page
My blood is ink and I can wield it
Like some unholy Mage
I could be great like Hemingway
Forever destined to destroy myself
I could hit the top of the pile
And drown out the future with top shelf
I can be like The Dahlia
Forever dreaming of the day I'll be known
Chasing fame until the end
When my final fate is finally bestowed
Just in case you've been wondering
I miss you when I'm alone
and driving in my car
I miss you when your
nowhere near and I'm well
in the mood to
I miss you when our busy
schedules keep us
I miss you when all I do is
dream about your kisses
your lips and I can't
sleep at night
I miss you when I'm
working and you just pop
into my head
I miss you when I'm all
alone and thinking of
you in the (buff)
I MISS YOU
in love we are endless time
where our hearts become one
with the majestic sound light
that travels with us all
the divine presence we live in
is within us now and forever
intouch with the divine mother and the sun
in beautiful symphony we create life
great conciouss river inside of us
guides us through the stars
where we reside
in love eternally
awake in a beautiful dream
where an atom can form into all and in one
endless in time ...
the world can be beautiful
if you let it be
instead of trying
to always be realistic
and be optimistic
because there’s enough reality
that hits you every day
and not enough good
that you can dream at night
dream in the day
and breathe in the starlight
there will always be enough
to do to keep you grounded
so open yourself
and let your mind’s wings fly
don’t just look,
see and soar with your eyes
magical land or planet earth
it makes no difference to me
because we see what we try to see
and i decided i want to see happy