A wise person once said
"You can do whatever you put your mind too!"
In my mind eyes envision
how I write these rhymes
in little time constructing lines
that pierce through your eyes
into your soul some would say
I'm in my prime
cause My words are very bold
The U.S. committing war crimes
The world is so cold you can
buy a man with dollar signs
Where women are sold
and often told they are dimes
But are more valuable to a man
than gold and diamonds.
Realize we're due
for realignment, Reassignment
by our masters in hiding
while I'm typing in the silence
I hear the riots of the people
protesting and fighting
shaking the earth like
thunder and lightning.
This Television programming
has numbed us to violence.
Yet won't broadcast the riots
or give us the real science.
Anyone acting defiant
blowing a whistle is swiftly silenced.
We must all stand firm like a hydrant
and face our current tyrants
take no action at all
and be fed to starving Lions.
Remnants remain of forgotten restraint, crumbled to pieces like a trail of bread. Remember the faults to keep you safe. Remember the pleasures for future choices. Times like these are meant to test us. The powerful emotions overwhelming the soul, like a gasp of air after immersed in cold water. This love was adrift, swift currents pulled us to oceans. Yet despite losing our touch, any good sailor makes it home after a voyage. New chapters remain laying lost in the wake to be gathered and spent for sweet memories.
She's cleared out and gone. Only a few trinkets remain. I've taken down our pictures, and she took most the books. We could only say I love you and with one last passionate kiss part our ways.
In Deaths Valley where purple petals and purple lips
Part at the touch of His skeleton key finger
That turn chests wide open
To release souls from their broken captors
Not even a firework show for good effort
Eyes wide open and I see everything you can’t seem to say with purple lips so cold and frightened
There’s a thousand white dots and a thousand sound layers beneath the color
The red veins floating amidst your token bad eye staring straight into the ceiling fan
As if it’s going to lift you up, spin your brain
And attempt to unjumble the jigsaw puzzle of different words and phrases and opinions
That pollute you
Uproot what you’ve known to be true
Since your slate was paved
Since your fingers touched the invisible air
Of unwritten possibility
The wall is grey
The lilac sits on your chest
Its purple and I’m as blue as the deepest corner of the skies rocket ship neck
That crevice fingers pet to coo goosebumps out from their nervous cells
Where I’m hidden
And quiet quiet quiet
Don’t part your purple lips
Your fingers graze the bed
Like it’s planning on plotting seeds
That will hopefully grow
And I’m alive I’m a life I’m enlightened
I’m not growing you said
I’m crooked you said
I’m not well rested you said
And the lilac sits alone in your bedside garden
Where no other plants dare to sprout
And your hands turn into stray roots
That weigh heavy like limp corn stalks
Frayed at the edges as they approach your ghastly cemetery
And all I can say is I’m sorry
Futile words from purple lips that Death doesn’t silence but caresses
With his skeleton key finger
Pursing them into a tight grip
That lets you know but doesn’t let you go
Long necks like water pipes
You spout words I like
Words I like
The bench we sit on can’t hold our excitement
Our legs like jackhammers
And there’s no switch to turn them on or off
Our word centipede crawls into our butterfly bellies our
Awkwardly loud laughter
Fuels our one way-two-way train wreck
I like it
I like it
I’m twisting my wire pipe fingers into
I won’t stop
Because there’s no clocks in our world
They only tick away for legs
Straight and solid like enslaved cement blocks that sway
Only when forced by the machines they’re trapped between
The machines that
Won’t let them stop moving
And we’re breathing
Breath as fluid and exact as the clocks that don’t exist
Between our bodies so fitting
I think gosh gee
If I could
I’d tell you it’s okay to sit closer
And the sun wouldn’t be the only burning
Gem in this world
Ill float upstairs with you
And the overhead light of your staircase wouldn’t be the only bulb burning bright and bold
The mattress a pseudo pool
Of fierce waters
And shallow rivets
Hearts inside clamshells
That peak out
From salty sweat erupting from jackhammer limbs
Tell me you mean it
My taste buds sting with your coat
Of dangerous bumpy roads
And car sick groans and moans
My head hits the window and then your shoulder blade
And lastly the front seat
Drive me away
Drive me home
Drive me straight into this pit of broken glass and wrecked car doors
Bloody specks against cracked windows
The cracked sunroof fills with debris
Blundering amongst a whirl of unexpected destruction
and the eyes remain glossy and indifferent
Where star dust and bellowing wolves
Glare slovenly with laser beam vision
Sniffing for a heartbeat lightening bolt
Shiny pearly whites
Rusty stained gums
Hurdling into each other with irrevocable force
Beneath the corset of Athena’s bloated body
Where babies curl underneath to go die
They bleed bloody blotches unto bruised blisters, bleak and bolted tight
By warrior instincts now
Caused by the men who tore off more then they could chew
Chosen like a useless card in a mismatched deck
No second thoughts I said
I said why me
Floating into your room
I’m a piece of furniture
A lamp a chair your headboard beating fiercely against your brittle wall
You look at me with double vision while my eyelashes remain speckled with the tears of
Spotty speeches and surly surfing
Amongst warm waves of love god would be jealous of
I’ll say it again
Tell me you mean it
The moment that sad songs turn to love poems. I'm tired of feeling down. I know you have to be confident to pick yourself up and move on. I'm not ready but sometimes you have to pretend. I'm told I hide things well. I guess it's the same idea that if can play the part you're doing the job. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. When you lose your love, you don't have to lose your best friend. Since I can't get her back that's the future for myself I want to write. I know she's not going to want to hang out every day but I wouldn't mind. I carry on.
There that one word
I cannot face
It teases me,
A mock embrace.
So perfect this,
For poems I write,
But still no words
That rhyme in sight.
"There must be one!"
I tell myself,
But where is it?
On the mystery shelf
Where no mortal can see
It hides all alone
There's no word to compare
No words sure as stone.
Anything is, and anything does
Is that the phrase we say?
Cause if anything is, and if anything was
There's no words that rhyme with it today.
Kindred spirit, the privilege is mine, it's just that I,
I never finish because there is nothing going on, nothing to go on.
All right, all right, all right,
I don't write as much as I used to,
but in all fairness (to myself)
I feel a bit more loose.
Never mean to,
but I guess I argue
a lot in order to hide
how much I really don't care;
Celina said it's not okay
but that at least I know
I only want to be in my body
when you are touching it.
That tone an angel loaned
to you can ripple through
the void, make a soft,
translucent puddle out of reality,
can you see me
on the other side?
Don't say I'm angry,
it's just that
no one has ever really tried
to impress me, so I'm scared
Remember you are here,
don't be weird about the types of things
sentimentality will bring,
will string along to the
forefront of an open sore;
no one pours the sink a whiskey
drink until the girls are crying out above the stars,
better yet stirring them from afar
for their own faults, for being
fickle with love
and their own hearts.
You know I don't sleep much,
You know I don't dream of such
pretty things but I could imagine
how you, in a different life,
were gifted eternal wings.
Those that brought you to me.
I would weep
if I wasn't made of stone.
they're out on the hustings
trying to garner a vote
they're all full of those
tired old candidate quotes
they're telling the us
what they'll do for the electorate
their policy platforms
shall be open to debate
just this week
they've promised the electors everything
yet there is little substance
to the songs they sing
the clock quickly counts down
to the election day
that's when us savvy voters
shall have our final say
we're sizing up the best
of a bad bunch for a win
if he lets us down
we'll remove his winning grin
a term in office
will be all that he'll be getting
so let's hope he has
the right policy settings
the rhetoric is flying around
out state seat
though not much of it
is absent of a well regulated beat
the candidates are all on notice
at the forthcoming May poll
then we'll see
whose heads will go for a roll
I hit up rock bottom once.
I had no where else to go..
Almost got shot, my mind was so flow.,
my oh so called team. The family of scream ...
the mom made of mess
the daughter of stress,.
step dad did the beatin ,
For his own reason.
I still don't get why he enjoyed making us cry.
when he would hit he just would not quit
making her watch , me on my last notch...
even at four I was pushed to the floor.
once i was eleven I ran for the door,
All from this point I've looked up to a joint .
my new way ,
has bin lit. Nd bin fit.
I look forward to a smile,
Bin alone for the longest of miles,
I was a child created of wiled
I take in stories most made taste so mild.,
YOU made my mothers thaughts and made me be lost ,
I'm not a little girl I'm a devilchild
That's why I been on my way
Before you take this first glance
Look at my other poem
Where I grab the Grim Reapers
Bare hands and ask her
If I can have this first dance.
As I lay here in my bed
I'm happy finally, and then
All these thoughts come
Rushing through my head.
It was like they were there
Waiting at my feet
I got comfortable
Creeping up my body
And once again admitted defeat.
She says on her wall of sorrow
"If only you could un-meet a person"
"A magic button is what I need"
Well go for it push me out of your life
Do as you please!
Because all I have done
Is accept your decisions
And I'm on my way to healing
This huge incision.
And why do I lay here
With these thoughts that are feeding
All I want to do is
Cut my losses and stop the bleeding.
Let me say again if I dare
This was once again the Grim Reaper
A deadly stare
Kind, faint-hearted, and long blonde hair.
But please remember
Because some of this work is for you
Our dreams on that page eraser dust flew.
I was there when no one wasn't
I was there at your lows
And I'm actually relieved
Your heart didn't glow.
Even though I don't see you no more
I still put work in
But this time my work is written
I'm glad the games we played.
Have now become fiction.
You can be a king or a street-sweeper
Dances with the Grim Reaper...