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

EFFECTS OF CHILD ABUSE ON PERFORMANCE OF PRIMARY SCHOOL IN KAPYEMIT WARD, TURBO CONSTITUENCY, UASIN-GISHU COUNTY.





BY
ERICK NYAKUNDI
KIS/03013/14




A RESEARCH PROJECTSUBMITED TO THE SCHOOL OF ARTS AND SOCIAL SCIENCES, DEPARTMENT OF SOCIOLOGY AND PSYCHOLOGY IN THE PARTIAL FULFILMENT FOR THE AWARD OF THE DEGREE OF BACHELOR OF SOCIOLOGY



MAY, 2014

DECLARATION

I, the undersigned, declare that this project is my original work and that it has not been presented in any other university or institution for academic credit.

Signature...............................................­..... Date...................................
ERICK NYAKUNDI
KIS/03013/14






SUPERVISOR
This project has been submitted for examination with my approval as university supervisor
DR. W. O. ABUYA
Signature..................................................­.. Date....................................




DEDICATION
I dedicate this work to my Dad, Mom, my sister Lydia and my lovely brother Dun who contributed in one way or another to make this project to be successful.


















ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
I would like to thank all individuals who contributed and sacrificed their time towards completion of this project.
To my supervisor, for the guidance and support in the development of this research project, His advice and criticism made this project what it is.
Thanks to colleagues and friends for their suggestions, advice and encouragement. To all of you may God bless you abundantly for your tireless effort.

TABLE OF CONTENTS
Contents Page
DECLARATION i
DEDICATION ii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT iii
TABLE OF CONTENTS iv
LIST OF TABLES vii
LIST OF FIGURE viii
ABSTRACT ix
CHAPTER ONE 10
STUDY OVERVIEW AND STATEMENT OF THE PROBLEM 10
1.1 Background of the Study 10
1.2 Research Questions 13
1.3 Research Objectives 13
1.4 Justification of the Study 13
1.5 Significance of the Study 14
1.6 Scope of the Study 15
1.6.1Assumptions of the Study 16
CHAPTER TWO 17
LITERATURE REVIEW 17
2.1 Introduction 17
2.2 Common Forms of Child Abuse 17
2.2.1 Child ****** Abuse 17
2.2.2 Physiological or Emotional Abuse 17
2.2.3 Physical Abuse 18
2.2.4 Child Neglect or Abandonment 18
2.2.4.1 Physical Neglect 19
2.2.4.2 Educational Neglect 19
2.2.4.3 Medical Neglect 19
2.2.5 Child Fatalities 20
2.3 How Child Abuse Affects Academic Performance 20
2.3.1 Child Abuse and Academic Performance 20
2.3.2 Child Abuse and School Image 23
2.3.3 Child Abuse and Dropout Rate 25
2.4 Strategies that Schools can Employ to Curb Child Abuse 26
2.4.1 Role of Public Regulation 26
2.4.1.1 Nurturing and Attachment 27
2.4.1.2 Social Connections 27
2.5 Theoretical Framework 27
2.5.1 Learning Theory 28
2.5.1.1 Relationship with the Study 28
2.5.2 Family Dysfunction Theory 29
2.5.2.1 Relationship with the Study 29
CHAPTER THREE 30
RESEARCH DESIGN AND METHODOLOGY 30
3.0 Introduction 30
3.1 Site Description 30
3.2 Research Design 30
3.3.1 Target Population 30
3.3.2 Sample Size and Sampling Procedure 31
3.4 Description of Research Instruments 32
3.4.1 Research Instrument 32
3.4.1.1 Questionnaire 32
3.5 Data Collection Procedure 32
3.5.1 Validity and Reliability of Research Instruments 33
3.5.1.1 Reliability of Research Instruments 33
3.5.1.2 Validity 33
3.6 Data Analysis and Presentation 33
CHAPTER FOUR 35
DATA PRESENTATION AND ANALYSIS 35
4.0 Introduction 35
4.1 Background Information 35
4.1.1 Age of the Respondents 35
4.1.2 *** of the Respondents 35
4.1.3 Education Level of the Respondents 36
4.1.4 Marital Status 36
4.2 Specific Information 37
4.2.1 Effects of Child Abuse on Academic Performance 37
4.2.2 How Child Abuse Affects Dropout Rate of Students in School 38
4.2.3 Proposed Strategies that Schools can Employ to Curb Child Abuse 41
CHAPTER FIVE 43
SUMMARY, CONCLUSION AND RECOMMENDATIONS 43
5.0 Introduction 43
5.1 Summary of the findings 43
5.2 Discussion of the Findings 44
5.3 Conclusion 45
5.4 Recommendations 46
REFERENCES 47

LIST OF TABLES & FIGURES
Table 3.1 Target population 32
Table 3.1 Sample size 33
Table 4.1 Age of the Respondents 36
Table 4.2 *** of the Respondents 37
Table 4.3 Education Level of the Respondents 37
Table 4.4 Marital Status 38
Table 4.5 Effects of Child Abuse on Academic Performance 38
Table 4.6 How Child Abuse Affects Dropout Rate of Students in School 40
Figure 4.1 Views of the Pupils on Abuse 41
Table 4.7 Proposed Strategies that Schools can Employ to Curb Child Abuse 42





















ABSTRACT
Child abuse is the physical, ****** or emotional maltreatment or neglect of a child or children. The consequences of child maltreatment can be profound and may endure long after the abuse or neglect occurs. The purpose of the study was to investigate the effect of child abuse on school performance in Primary Schools in Kapyemit ward, Uasin-Gishu County. The objectives of the study were: To assess the impacts of child abuse on academic performance; to determine the effects of child abuse on schools image, to identify the impacts of child abuse on pupil drop out rate, to investigate the effects of child abuse on pupil transition rate. The study employed a survey study design. The study targeted 160 respondents which includes; 5 Head Teachers, 40 Teachers, 70 Pupils and 35 parents of which a sample size of 48 was obtained from using 30%. Purposive sampling technique was used in selecting the head teachers while simple random sampling technique will be used to select the teachers, Pupils and parents who formed the respondents of the study. Questionnaires and interview schedules were used as data collection instruments. Data was analyzed quantitatively and qualitatively and presented in form of tables, percentages and frequency. The study helped in the understanding of the effects of child abuse on the school performance, the realization of the roles parents and teachers play in the curbing of child abuse among pupils and raising awareness on the same.
 
CHAPTER ONE
STUDY OVERVIEW AND STATEMENT OF THE PROBLEM
1.1 Background of the Study
Child abuse is the physical, ****** or emotional maltreatment or neglect of a child or children. The consequences of child maltreatment can be profound and may endure long after the abuse or neglect occurs. The effects can appear in childhood, adolescence, or adulthood, and may affect various aspects of an individual's development (e.g., physical, cognitive, psychological, and behavioral). These effects range in consequence from minor physical injuries, low self-esteem, attention disorders, and poor peer relations to severe brain damage, extremely violent behavior, and death. In extreme cases, child abuse affects the performance of schools in the affected region (Daniel, 1978).
Performance refers to how students deal with their academic studies and how they cope with or accomplish different tasks given to them by their teachers. Performance is also the ability of a school to portray a good image which can influence the public (Decastro, 1978). There are several factors that influence the performance of a school at large, however, there is a critical factor that most researchers have avoided to discuss, and child abuse has been a crucial factor that has contributed to children’s dismal performance. Apart from children’s personal intelligence, child abuse is among then key factors contributing to poor performance of learners. Child abuse can lead to school dropping, emotional trauma or can even be fatal, hence destructing or even terminating the educational ambitions of a child. (Harris, 2005)
Worldwide, according to World Health Organization (WHO, 2000) approximately 40 million children are subjected to child abuse each year. According to Human Rights Watch (2001) about 30% of all severely disabled children relegated to special homes in the Ukraine died before they reached 18 years of age. UNICEF estimates that two million children died as a result of armed conflict during a recent 10-year period and that another six million were injured or disabled. In Canada, the U.S. and Mexico, over 6.5 million children annually are exposed to unwanted ****** materials over the internet; over 1.7 million of these report distress over exposure to these materials. In the United States, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and the Department for Children and Families (DCF) define child maltreatment as any act or series of acts of commission or omission by a parent or other caregiver that results in harm, potential for harm, or threat of harm to a child. Child abuse can occur in a child's home, or in the organizations, schools or communities the child interacts with. Each year, approximately one million children around the world are introduced into commercial ****** exploitation despite this problem; these developed countries have put measures to curb the vice. Rehabilitation schools have been formed and introduction of counseling centers as well. Despite the prevalence of child abuse in this developed nations they narrowly affect the academic performance since there are organizations put in place to curb the situation e.g. child associations, guidance and counseling institutions, and school based counseling programs (Giles, 2001)
Concern for victims of child abuse in Africa expressed by the African network of the International Society for The Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect (ISPCAN) which gave five main presentations of child abuse: child labor, street wandering, ****** abuse, child battering and abandonment (Elma, 1977). Child labor according to the international labor organization (ILO), about 10 million children less than 15years in Africa are in formal employment, working long hours with poor pay and are exposed to substantial health hazards. Wandering of children refers to children, usually unkempt and with delinquent propensities, living rough in town. The reasons for children taking to the street remain poorly understood particularly in relation to factors in the child rather than parental hostility and economic (Dubowitz, 2002)
****** abuse is another. For example, arranged under-age marriages are common in some parts of the continent and doubt was often expressed as to whether a young girl fully gave consent to being betrothed (Galdsone, 1965). Prevalence rates in Africa are very difficult to ascertain because of the fear of disclosure by victims and lack of proper documentation. Most of the girls by reasons of shame fear or surprisingly respect for their usually older perpetrators. Physical battering is also eminent. Physical abuse of children is widely claimed to berate in the third world; however, there are anecdotes from east Africa skeletal frame or localized body areas of all first attendees aged 0-12 years at this hospital during the four-year period 1 January 1987 to 31 December 1990 (Garbarino, 1975). Sixty-nine of these reports reveals evidence of multiple bone fractures wither without evidence of rib or skull fracture. Abandonment of children to roam around the streets in what we call street children is also eminent in Africa, though valid and adequate information on abandonment are difficult to obtain due mainly to failure of offending parents to show up out of guilt, shame, judicial repercussions or a combination of these. However, some euro-American missionaries identified inter alia breech birth. (Erickson, 2003)
Child protection measures in Kenya are currently not implemented effectively and fully (Galdstone, 1965). Compliance with such legislation would increase if the magnitude of the problem and better knowledge about the factors that put children at risk was available. Additionally, involving stakeholders, especially agencies charged with protection, as well as involving affected children, will highlight the issues and thereby promote adherence to protection policies. Kenyan children, child activists and children organizations are pinning their hopes on the implementation of the Children’s Act to improve the lot of the nation’s youth. The Act, which came into effect on 1 March 2002, puts in place full safeguards for the rights of the child. Its passage was a giant stride in harmonizing the national laws with international agreements which Kenya has signed such as the UN Conventions on the Rights of the Child (CRC, 2002)
There is hope that the new legislation will dramatically change the inattention, neglect and abuse towards child rights. The Act outlaws any form discrimination of children, and forbids Female Genital Mutilation (FGM), child prostitution, and child labor, among other forms of abuse. The Children’s Act has immensely improved the lives of many Kenyan children plagued with high illiteracy levels, frequent **** cases and child labor since it guarantees children the right to health and medical care, provision of which is the responsibility of the parents, the extended family and the government (Erickson, 2005).
Cases of child abuse in Uasin-Gishu region have been so eminent in the recent years ((Kenya Media Report, 2004). In the year 2010 and the year 2011, there was a program started to rehabilitate this behavior. This problem is clearly evident when you first arrive in Eldoret town, it is among the towns in the country with the highest number of abandoned children who keep on moving from one Centre to another seeking help from passersby. Parents have developed behaviors of abandoning their children and deliberately sending them to the town so that they can benefit from their borrowing. So to say this has led to child labor in this region. High profile cases of school dropouts have been recorded regarding the environs of this region. Young school children from different locations in Eldoret converge in town to persuade people to offer them financial assistance. Some attend school in numbered days and decide to spend some good number of days out of school.
The communities and societies around tend to assume this situation and term it as norm. A few who might seem concerned lack cooperation from the rest. This has adversely affected the performance of most of schools, hence leading to poor living standards of the people and a poisoned future of a young citizen. The problem has affected learners in regions like many areas in Uasin-Gishu County. It has really affected child development and affected their attendance and performance in school. Little intervention measures has been taken to advocate the holistic development of the children. It was to this reason that the researcher conducted the research in the named above region
1.2 Research Questions
The study was guided by the following questions;
1) What is the effect of child abuse on the academic performance of students in Kapyemit Ward?  
2) What are some of the proposed strategies that schools can employ to curb child abuse?
1.3 Research Objectives
The study was guided by the following research objectives;
1) To identify the effect of child abuse on the academic performance of students in Kapyemit Ward.
2) To identify proposed strategies that can be employed to help curb child abuse.
1.4 Justification of the Study
It is becoming increasingly difficult to separate child abuse prevention into separate categories. For instance, strategies on the societal level include increasing the “value” of children, increasing the economic self-sufficiency of families, discouraging corporal punishment and other forms of violence, making health care more accessible and affordable, expanding and improving coordination of social services, improving the identification and treatment of psychological problems and alcohol and drug abuse, providing more affordable child care and preventing the birth of unwanted children.
Very little analysis has been done to estimate the total cost of preventing child abuse and neglect or the long-term social costs of not preventing it. There is now a move to situate child abuse and neglect within the continuum of intervention which addresses multiple aspects of family behaviors. The efficacy of tackling portions of the problem of child abuse apart from broader societal needs is not known. And, perhaps prevention can only come in tandem with efforts to reduce poverty, improve health care and make children’s issues a national priority. However, despite these constraints, evaluations of prevention programs can be improved by coming to terms with definitions of key varia

Our parents are always telling us , you have to go to school, that you'll learn everything you need to know before you're ready for the big world, and that'll you need it to get into your dream job

But now a days our education isn't about learning, its about passing
Our education now isn't the same as it used to be

It teaches us that if you're not at a certain grade level, you will not succeed
That if you don't meet a certain criteria, maybe you're not for fit the course

This education system doesn't teach us whats really important for the big world

It doesn't teach us how to live, how to do taxes or how to survive

It never taught us the living expenses or how to buy a home
Never taught us what to expect once we leave for college or how to balance our schedules

No. It only taught us homework, about a plant cell, about tangents and circumferences

It taught us that homework is more important than family
That it's more important than being a kid and having a life

It taught us that if you spend time with loved once and didn't do your work, you're setting yourself up for failure

They pile us with work it feels like we cant breath
They never once thought of the other class assignments that must be due not even 24 hours later

They make us memorise things that will no longer be important when we apply for a job

We study for hours in hopes to pass that final test that we'll soon forget

But what are we suppose to say when someone asks us how we're feeling?
We were never taught that
We never memorised an equation to help us find the answer
We were only ever taught to keep our mouths shut and do our work

Its quite funny what we learn in school now
Things more than 80% of the students will never have to use let alone see again

School was suppose to prepare us for our future
For the job choice we pick

Instead we meet and learned quadratics and plant cells
We were taught homework is what your focus should always be on

We were never taught about the future and what to do

And most importantly
We were never taught how to love ourselves and the things we should be greatful for

They've turn us into sad, mindless robots that's are more concerned about grades and passing than whats going on with the family

We lock ourselves in our rooms doing homework for 6 hours than talking to our mothers or fathers who wonder about us

We were never taught the importance of family before it was too late

Every single highschool student wishes they can turn back the clocks, but it'll never work

We were taught the hard way that you don't really know what you have until its gone
Something we weren't prepared for

They never prepared us for the future
Instead, we prepare our self for the possible failing outcome

How are we suppose to make a living for ourselves when all we have learned was the stress over homework and family?
The depression over a failed test or assignment?
The lost feeling of the lost time?

How are we suppose to love ourselves when all we do is put yourself down because of school?

This education system never prepared us for anything
Instead, this education system officially has broken all of us.

Marriage is changing, from who can get married (37 states now allow gay marriage!) to who actually ends up doing it. Only 26% of millennials are married, a sharp decrease from 36% of Generation X and 48% of baby boomers, according to the Pew Research Center. But marriage isn't obsolete — in fact, in many ways it's thriving as we re-evaluate what the institution really means to us.

And with re-evaluating marriage comes re-evaluating weddings. The Knot's "2014 Real Weddings Study" found that couples are foregoing traditional wedding customs to modernize their nuptials through their choice of rings, dresses and officiants.

That includes — perhaps most importantly — the vows. Couples today are taking cues from badass brides like Amelia Earhart, who banned the word "obey" from her 1931 wedding vows, and reciting promises to one another that reflect the partnerships they strive for. Here are 12 real-life couples who vowed...

1. "To split the difference on the thermostat."

Why it's awesome: When Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston got married, Pitt pledged to "split the difference on the thermostat." While that partnership didn't last, as we all know, it was a lighthearted vow that highlights a crucial element of modern marriage: compromise. The key to a happy marriage is learning how to meet halfway.

2. "To be a true and loyal friend to you."

Why it's awesome: Marriages weren't always about intimate, caring partnerships between equals. But we know well enough now that the happiest, most long-lasting marriages are those in which partners see each other as friends (even studies have proven it true). Jevan's vows to Alithea, shared by the Knot, are a reminder that the bedrock of friendship is what makes a modern marriage stand.

3. "To communicate fully and fearlessly."

Why it's awesome: Among the traditional promise of partnership and faith, real-life couple Anne and Gabrielle told the Knot they vowed "to communicate fully and fearlessly" as spouses. In our modern world, we have seemingly endless ways to communicate — text, email, Skype, Snapchat — and yet still have to work to connect. Sitting down face-to-face, making eye contact and being vulnerable with one another is still crucial, as is being honest without fear of judgment from your partner. Emojis aside, that's what really sustains a lasting relationship.

4. "To grab your **** even when we're old and wrinkly."

Why it's awesome: As we become more open about sexuality (thank goodness), it's only natural that a wink and a nudge find their way into the wedding vows. In an open thread on A Practical Wedding, Zach and Kate shared their vows, which included the promise "to hit on you in awesome accents and grab your **** even when we're old and wrinkly." This promise to keep the spark alive even years down the line is no small thing. After all, studies have shown that all it can take is a simple touch to maintain a ****** connection.

5. "To value our differences as much as our common ground."

Why it's awesome: Love is a powerful force to bring people together, even when they're divided by cultural background, religion and, increasingly, politics. As society grows more divisive and we hold tight to our views, it's valuable to remember that our differences don't have to actually divide us, as these vows from real-life couple Greta Christina and Ingrid, told to Patheos, show.

6. "To continue to love your children, as if they were my own."

Why it's awesome: A marriage isn't just a vow to one person, it's a vow to an entire family — future and present. In 2011, Pew Research found that more than 4 in 10 American adults have at least one "step relative" in their family, including a stepparent, a stepchild or a step or half sibling. These adults are just as likely as others to say that family is the most important element of their lives. So it's no surprise that people have been adapting their weddings to encompass the commitment to an entire family, as Sara M. did in her vows, shared on Offbeat Bride.

7. "To comfort you when the Falcons lose and drink beer with you when they win."

Why it's awesome: As Mallory summed up so perfectly to Eddie in their vows, shared by the Knot, appreciating each other's distinct interests and actively sharing in them together makes a huge difference. It goes beyond just putting on the Falcons jersey: Sitting down for the game and sharing a beer is what researchers would call "shared leisure," and it makes a big difference for marital satisfaction. That football game is more than just a football game.

8. "To never try to hurt you just because I'm angry or tired."

Why it's awesome: The chaos of our lives means lots of stress, lots of late nights and lots of exhaustion. (Unsurprisingly, Gallup found that 40% of American adults get less than the recommended amount of sleep.) That can actually wreak havoc on a relationship, which is why it's all the more important to anticipate the challenge. Sarah's vows to her husband, which she shared on A Practical Wedding, are a promise not to take out her stress and exhaustion on him. Instead, she vows to trust him throughout the chaos, "even when we veer from GPS directions, schedules, itineraries and to-do lists."

9. "I have called you my life partner, my significant other, my longtime companion, my lover. ... Now I vow to love you always as my lawfully wedded husband."

Why it's awesome: The vows said by George Takei and longtime partner Brad Altman at their wedding, after the passage of marriage equality in California, were unsurprisingly moving, given they were 21 years in the making. As couples, straight and gay, wait longer to get married (and cohabit in the meantime), labels like "husband" or "wife" are less crucial for defining the relationship than the moments a couple has shared. Takei and Altman's wedding was not proof of their commitment, but rather a tribute to the commitment they had already demonstrated — a truth echoed clearly in their vows.

10. "To be your partner in all things, not possessing you, but working with you as a part of the whole."

Why it's awesome: If we're really striving for egalitarian marriages, then recognizing the equal amounts of work required by each half, as partners, is crucial, especially as women's participation in the workforce keeps growing (57.2% compared to 69.7% for men in 2013). In order for both careers to receive equal focus, a promise not to "possess" but to work to support each other is key. Much like Amelia Earhart refused to use the word "obey," real-life couple Alex and Michelle promised to be each other's "equal in all things" in the vows they shared with the Knot.

11. "I will love you no matter what makes my blood circulate, or even no matter what provides my body with oxygen."

Why it's awesome: Traditional weddings tend to be religious occasions, but with increasing rates of atheism and marriages across faiths, religion is taking a back seat to a more personalized expression of commitment. As of 2013, only one third of couples opted to get married in a church, and even more are removing religion from their vows. But that doesn't mean the vows don't appeal to a higher sense of faith — in the other person or in the world, as these scientific, "atheistic" vows, translated from Swedish and shared on Reddit, prove.

12. "I see these vows not as promises but as privileges."

Why it's awesome: Marriage might have been necessary decades ago, but these days it's more of a choice. So it's only natural that the vows we recite — traditionally a list of duties and obligations — actually reflect the happy choice that marriage now is for so many.

Yuval and Dina chose to frame their vows as honors, as they shared with the Knot: "I see these vows not as promises but as privileges: I get to laugh with you and cry with you; care for you and share with you. I get to run with you and walk with you; build with you and live with you." With between 40% to 50% of marriages in the U.S. ending in divorce, it's more important than ever that couples remind themselves that being with their partner is a privilege in itself, and one to never take for granted.

Source: http://www.graziadressau.com

BEFORE

Before we even started dating
I was very interested in you
I thought
"She's really unique
And cool
And into books
And smart

And cute."
Every move you made
The ease with which you made friends
And of course
How your nose was always in a book.
That interested me a lot
And I still love that
Even when I know
So much more about you.
My observations from outside.


2.  AS I WRITE

I told you I was doing something
For our six months.
It's nothing spectacular
Nothing expensive
Just time
And my thoughts
My love
I hope to put it into these words which I
Preserve for you
Uniquely mine
For uniquely you
And you alone.



3. SUSPENSE

I just told you today
And you ask for my hint
It was in one of my other poems
You read it
But didn't catch it.
It would be obvious if you did see
What the hint is.
And no, these aren't all going to be
Like this
Just basically a diary
No
They will be better.


4. LIST

I like a lot about you love
I even listed some things off to you recently.
Would you like a list?

The cute faces you constantly make
The way you fall asleep in my arms
The way you make my heart skip when you lean on me
The way your mouth moves when we kiss
Your scent that hangs on my clothes after we hang out
The way you bury your face in my chest when falling asleep
The texture of you hair
The way your face lights up when you're truly happy
The way your cheeks are fun to play with
The perfect shape of your body
Your inability to be mad at me
Your anger at people being self-destructive
Your rambles on things that you feel passionate about
Your sheer uniqueness
Your amazing beauty
The way you feel embarassed when you blush
Your quiet whimpers when I whisper that I love you in your sleep
The way you always tell someone when you're annoyed
Your ability to easily make friends
Your addiction to reading
Your crazy music taste
Your refusal to tell me games you play
Your amazing poetry
Your unique way of dressing
Your uncanny ability to look beautiful and **** in anything

And yes, there's thousands more.
But that's enough for now.


5. NIGHT

You know
I think of you always
During class
During sports
During robotics
During my dreams.
You're so great
You just sneak into my mind
And take all control from me.
I'm stuck thinking about you for awhile.
Not that I really mind.


6. SUDDENLY FRAGILE

I've known you for awhile
And now you're fragile
You seemed strong
Never once wrong
And I'm glad I grew close to you
So that I can be here for you
When you need someone
And I always want to be that someone.


7. FIVE

Today
Of all days
I'm sick.
What I wouldn't give
To kiss you once
On the cheek
Or give you a hug
Quickly
Fleetingly
I want to tell you I love you in person
But I cannot
Not today
But I will.


8. FREAKY

Do you know
How crazy it makes me feel
To just think of you?

9. ALONE

I am alone
With nothing but
My thoughts

Of you.
Obviously.


10. PICTURES

I look at the wall
The ceiling
Blank
Naked, but for some scratches
And I wish it was pictures of you
In plain sight
Wherever I look.


11. TRUE HAPPINESS

I know life is hitting you right now
Hitting you pretty hard
Being forced into therapy you don't want
Medicine that hurts your focus
And now it's ******* up your grades
Which in turn make your parents mad at you
And you seem to be despairing
And all I want to do
Is cheer you up
Make you smile
Forget your worries for just a little while.
I do what I can
But I don't think it's
Enough.
But I will keep trying
Every time I talk to you
Text you
Hug you
I hope I can bring you a little closer
To that honest smile.


12. YOU WORRY

You said it's been bothering you
You say I don't have to stay with you
Because I feel obligated
Because of your mental state.
Well
I'm glad you said it
Got it off your chest
But I would never stay because of pity
Because of guilt
No
I stay because of you.
The you-ness of you
You're just so startlingly amazing
Such a stark contrast to other interests I've had
And I love it.
And I love you.
I'm glad I could at least momentarily
Hopefully stop your worrying.


13. BRILLIANT AND BEAUTIFUL

When I think of you
I imagine gazing into your eyes
As I have done so many times
Those infinite, piercing
Beautiful eyes.
Brilliant, shining, beautiful
Just like you.
So wonderful
Calming
I dream of watching your eyes fall asleep
And waking to the very same pair
Happy and alive
Yet so real
Your beauty
And your realness.
Perfection.
I love you
I could say it a thousand timees
And mean it more every
Single
Time.


14. AGONIZING

It hurts me so much
To see you in pain
To know you're hurting.

You're trying to be more
Independant
You say
Well
Sure, be independant
But I want you to run to me
Cry on my shoulder
Because you aren't alone
And I don't want you to prepare for
A time when you could be alone.
Because I plan on staying within reach.


15. QUESTIONS

You lately have seemed
Scared
Afraid that I am staying with you for some
Pity
That I may feel.
Well, let me tell you
That is so wrong.
I feel bad for you
But that is different.
Because I could never date you through pity
I would feel like I was
Taking advantage of you
So don't worry.


16. SO MUCH I COULD NEVER SAY

I love you so
I can not describe it
The feeling
The exhilaration
From catching a glimpse of you in the hallway
I just feel the need to smile.


17. SMILE-INDUCING

Have I ever told you
That everytime you hug me from behind
I just feel uncontrollably joyful?
And when you refuse to let go
I find it cute
And I just want to stay like that


18. GOOD MORNING

A dream we both have
I want so very badly
To fall asleep holding you close
Singing to you the lullaby of my beating heart
Listening to your breath slow and relax
The perfect weight of your body against my own
And for you to be the last thing I see before I close my eyes
And the first thing I see when awakened
To make fun of your bedhead as the day's first light
Illuminates the room gently
To tell you how I love you
Before you can think anything else
Now only a dream
Someday it will happen.


19. TO RUN AWAY

I wannt to forever hold you
To hide away where nobody can find us
No schedules to disturb us
No cold to riddle our skin with
Goose-bumps
No agony tearing at our hearts
No painful reminders of the past
As the days blur into weeks
Into months
To hold you forever
In solitude.


20. WORRY

Why, love, are you so worried as of late
That you have changed?
I love every version of you
And I'm continually amazed at your ability
To cope
To prevail
But you are not strong enough alone my love.


21. LASTING

I have a feeling
That we will last
Overcome the odds
For a relationship that will endure
Past school
Past our new experiences
Past our differences
And bring us ever closer
More in love
As I feel myself falling for you more everyday


22. MARVELOUS

I never feel quite as amazing
As when I have you laying on my chest
Relaxed and falling asleep
With a blanket
A movie
Relaxation
No upcoming deadlines
Nothing else matters
Just the warmth of you relaxing on me
And my feeling of content.


23. DISCUSS

I love that we can discuss
Our different
Yet similar
Religions.
Yours as yet unnamed
Mine becoming again pure
And we can grow from this
And we become stronger.
And if we disagree about something
We can have a discussion about it
Though I keep my mouth shut
If I have the potential to start an argument
And we stay civil


24. LIST

One of your guesses as to
What I was doing when I hinted about this
A list.
Alright, you inspired me.
Words to describe you.
Beautiful
Intelligent
Different
Crazy
Startling
Lovely
Cute
­Modest
Mesmerizing
Relatable
Foreign
Sad
Lost
Stubborn
Sensitive
­And lastly for now
Theloveofmylife


25. TERRIFIED

Having you in my life is
Terrifying.
I worry so much
About your well being.
I wish I could be your knight in shining armor
But I just
Can't.
Society doesn't leave room for heroes.
It only attempts to create villains.
But you and I
We can resist it
Because society ***** anyway
And we're invincible.


26. DROWSY

When I fall asleep
The last thing on my mind is you.
And it's not just a thought that pops in then.
It starts when I am drowsy
And on the edge of sleep.
I imagine you snuggling close
Burying your face in my chest
Inhaling deeply and
Relaxing.


27. COMFORTABLE

I am glad that you can
Be relaxed enough around me
To fall asleep randomly.
And I love how, even in your sleep, you
Snuggle close
Twitch your hand three times
And whimper whenever I whisper into your ear
"I love you"


28. EXCITED

I love being with you
I love holding you close
Your breathe in my ears
The pounding of your heart
Speeding up when we kiss
Your happy sighs
Pulling me closer
Warming me in this new coming chill.


29.  HEAT

You are warm
You are hot
You keep the chill away
Heck, we could be in the snow without any significant
Warm clothing
And as long as I could hold you close
I could remain there forever.


30. PERFECT LOVE

You are my perfect love
The one for me
The two of us
Can do anything
Beat any odds stacked against us.
Overcome any hardship.
Just wait until we can escape to our life
We can win this race love
Destroy anyone who seeks to foil us
Or just ignore them
They aren't worth our notice
If they try to bring us down.


31. LIGHT

I look into your eyes today
And they are beautiful
As they always have been
I can lose myself in your eyes
The sight behind them
The intelligence
And so much more.
You're startlingly great
And I can't help but want to be around you.

i dreamed a rattlesnake was loose in the closet i heard it rattling i was afraid to open the door



a man suffering a toothache goes to see his dentist the dentist administers laughing gas when the man comes to his numb tongue swooshes around his mouth he asks how long was i under the dentist answers hours i needed to pull them all out



he imagines when he grows old there will be a pencil grown into one hand and a paintbrush grown into the other they will look like extra fingers grown out from the palms extensions of his personal evolution little children will be horrified when they see mommy mommy look at that man’s hands!



what if we are each presented with a complete picture of a puzzle from the very start then as our lives proceed the pieces begin showing up out of context sometimes recognizable other times a mystery some people are smarter more intuitive than others and are able to piece together the bigger picture some people never figure it out



i wasn’t thinking i didn’t know to think nobody taught me to think maybe my teachers tried but i didn’t get it i wasn’t thinking i was running reacting doing whatever i needed to survive when you’re trying to survive you move fast by instinct you don’t think you just act



many children are relieved when their parents die then they no longer need to explain prove themselves live up to their parent’s expectations yet all children need parents to approve foster mentor teach love



she was missing especially when her children needed her most she was busy lunching with girlfriends dinner dates beauty shop manicure masseuse appointments shopping seamstress fittings constant telephone gossiping criticizing she was too busy to notice she was missing more than anything she wanted to party show off her beauty to be the adored one the hostess with the mostest



i dreamed i was condemned to die by guillotine the executioner wore black and wielded an axe just in case the device failed in the dream the guillotine sliced shallow then the executioner went to work but he kept chopping unsuccessfully severing my head this went on for a long time



1954 Max Schwartzpilgrim sits at table in coffee shop on 5th floor of Maller’s Building elevated train loudly passes as he glances out window it is typical gloomy gray Chicago day he worries how he will find the money to pay off all his mounting debts he is over his head in debit thinks about taking out a hefty life insurance policy then cleverly killing himself but he cherishes his lovely wife Jenny his young children and social life sitting across table Ernie Cohen cracks crass joke Max laughs politely yet is in no mood to encourage his fingers work nervously mutely drumming on Formica table then stubbing out cigarette in glass ashtray lighting another with gold Dunhill lighter bitter tastes of coffee and cigarettes turns his stomach sour he raises his hand calling over Millie the waitress he flirtatiously smiles orders bowl of matzo ball soup with extra matzo ball Ernie says you can’t have enough big ***** for this world Max thinks about his son Odysseus



when Odysseus is very young Dad occasionally brings him to Schwartzpilgrim’s Jewelers Store on Saturday mornings Dad shows off his firstborn son like a prize possession lifting Odysseus in the air Dad takes him to golf range golf is not an interest for Odysseus Dad pushes him to learn proper swing Odysseus fumbles golf club and ***** he loves going anyway because he appreciates spending time with Dad once Dad and Odysseus take shower together Dad is so life-size muscular hairy Odysseus is so little Dad reaches touches Odysseus’s ******* feeling lone ******* Dad says we’ll correct that make it right Odysseus does not understand what Dad is talking about at finish Dad turns up cold water and shields Odysseus with his body he watches Dad dressing in mornings Dad is persnickety to last details of French cuff links silk handkerchief in breast pocket even Dad’s fingernails toenails are manicured buffed shiny clear



Odysseus’s left ******* does not descend into his ******* the adults in extended family routinely want to inspect the abnormality Mom shows them sometimes Dad grows agitated and leaves room it is embarrassing for Odysseus Daddy Lou’s brother Uncle Maury wants to check it out too often like he thinks he is a doctor Uncle Maury is an optometrist the pediatrician theorizes the tangled ******* is possibly the result of a hormone fertility drug Mom took to get pregnant the doctor injects Odysseus with a hormone shot then prescribes several medications to induce the ****** to drop nothing works eventually an inguinal hernia is diagnosed around the age of 9 Odysseus is operated on for a hernia and the ******* surgically moved down into his ******* the doctor says ******* is dead warning of propensity to cancer later in life his left ball is smaller than his right but it is more sensitive and needy he does not understand what the doctor means by “dead” Odysseus fears he will be made fun of he is self-conscious in locker room he does not comprehend for the rest of his life he will carry a diminutive *****



spokin alloud by readar in caulkknee axescent ello we’re Biggie an Smally tha 2 testicles whoooh liv in tha ******* of this felloh Odys Biggie is the soyze of a elthy chicken aegg and Smally is the size of a modest Bing cheery



one breast ****** points northeast the other smaller breast ****** points southwest she is frightened to reveal them to any man frightened to be exposed in woman’s locker room she is the most beautiful girl/woman he will ever know



Bayli Moutray is French/Irish 5’8” lean elongated with bowed legs knobby knees runner’s calves slim hips boy’s shoulders sleepy blue eyes light brown hair a barely discernable freckled birthmark on back of neck and small unequal ******* with puffy ******* pointing in different directions Laura an ex-girlfriend of Odysseus’s describes Bayli’s appearance as “a gangly bird screeching to be fed” Laura can be mean Odysseus thinks Bayli is the coolest girl in the world he is genuinely in love with her they have been sleeping together for nearly a year it is March 11 1974 Bayli’s birthday she turns 22 today Bayli is away with her family in Southeast Asia Odysseus understands what a great opportunity this is for her to learn about another culture he knows Bayli plans to meet up again with him in late summer or autumn in Chicago Dad wants Odysseus to follow in his footsteps and become a successful jewelry salesman he offers Odysseus a well-paying job driving leased Camaro across the Midwest servicing Dad’s established costume jewelry accounts Odysseus reasons it is a chance to squirrel away some cash until Bayli returns it is lonely on the road and awkward adjustment to be back in Chicago Odysseus made other plans after graduating from Hartford Art School he is going to be an important painter after numerous months and many Midwestern cities he begins to feel depressed he questions how Bayli can stay away for so long when he needs her so bad the Moutray’s send Mom and Dad a gift of elegant pewter candleholders made in Indonesia Mom accustomed to silver and gold excludes pewter to be put on display she instructs Teresa to place the candleholders away in a cabinet Mom also neglects to write a thank you note which is quite out of character for Mom Bayli’s father is a Navy Captain in the Pacific he is summoned to Norfolk Naval Station in Virginia the Moutray’s flight has a stopover in Chicago Bayli writes her parents want to meet Odysseus and his family Odysseus asks Dad to arrange his traveling itinerary around the Moutray’s visit Dad schedules Odysseus to service the Detroit and Michigan territory against Odysseus’s pleas Odysseus is living with his sister Penelope on Briar Street it is the only address Bayli’s parents know Odysseus has no way to reach them when the Moutray’s arrive at the door Penelope does not know what to tell them Mom and Dad are not interested in meeting Bayli’s parents it is not the first sign of dissatisfaction or disinterest Mom and Dad convey regarding Bayli Odysseus does not understand why his parents do not like her is it because Bayli is not Jewish is that the sole reason Mom and Dad do not approve of her Odysseus believes he needs his parent’s support he knows he is not like them and will likely never adopt their standards yet he values their consent they are his parents and he honors Mom and Dad let’s take a step back for a moment to get a different perspective a more serious matter is Odysseus’s financial dependency on his parents does a commitment to Bayli threaten the sheltered world his parent’s provide him is it merely money binding him to them why else is he so powerless to his parent’s control outwardly he appears a wild child yet inwardly he is somewhat timid is he cowardly is he unsure of Bayli’s strength and sustainability is that why he let’s Bayli go whatever the reason Dad’s and Mom’s pressure and influence are strong enough to sway his judgment he goes along with their authority losing Bayli is the greatest mistake of Odysseus’s life



he dreams Bayli and he are at a Bob Dylan concert they are hidden in the back of the theater in a dark hall they can hear the band playing Dylan’s voice singing and the echoes of the mesmerized audience Odysseus is ******* Bayli’s body against a wall she is quietly moaning his hand is inside her jeans feeling her wetness rubbing fingers between her legs after the show they hang around an empty lot filled with broken bottles loose bricks they run into Dylan all 3 are laughing and dancing down the sidewalk Dylan is incredibly playful and engaging he says he needs to run an errand not wanting to leave his company Odysseus and Bayli follow along they arrive at an old hospital building it is dark and dingy inside there is a large room filled with medical beds and water tanks housing unspeakably disfigured people swarming intravenous tubes attach the patients to oxygen equipment feed bags and monitoring machines Dylan moves between each victim like a compassionate ambassador Odysseus is freaking out the infirmary is too horrible to imagine he shields his eyes wanders away losing Bayli searching running frantically for a way out he wakes shivering and sweating the pillow is wet sheets twisted he gets up from the bed stares out window into the dark night he wonders where he lost Bayli



these winds of change let them come sailor home from sea hunter home from hill he who can create the worst terror is the greatest warrior

My life is a railway station
In so many different ways
For there are many many trains
That I could take

I do not know all the time
Which train will bring me
To the place I want to be

There are people all around me
Also looking at the trains
Comparing time schedules, destinations
Constantly.

(theinkthatspeaks.blogspot.com)

THERE'S RUDOLPH, FROSTY, SANTA CLAUS AND GOOD OLD EBENEEZER
THERE'S CAROLS SUNG BY EVERYONE FROM KISS ON THROUGH TO WHEEZER
THERE'S CD'S OUT FROM NAT KING COLE, THE BOSTON POPS HAVE TWO
THERE'S  ONE OUT  NEIL DIAMOND WHICH IS STRANGE BECAUSE OLD NEIL'S A JEW

THE STORES HAVE TINSEL EVERYWHERE, THEIR TREES TOO,LOOKING NICE
THERE'S WRAPPING PAPER, CHRISTMAS LIGHTS AND EVEN PLASTIC ICE
THEY ATTACK YOUR SENSES CONSTANTLY, THEY MUST THINK I'M A FOOL
FOR ALL THIS STUFF IS ON DISPLAY, BEFORE THE KIDS GO BACK TO SCHOOL

THERE'S A RASTAFARIAN SANTA CLAUS WITH DREADLOCKS KNOWN AS "STONEY"
GENETICALLY ALTERED TURKEY MEAT THAT TASTES JUST LIKE BALONEY
PEOPLE DON'T BUY CHRISTMAS GIFTS THEY SEEM TO JUST GIVE MONEY
SO THEY GO SHOPPING BOXING DAY, AND THIS I FIND QUITE FUNNY

THE CHARITIES ARE ON THE PHONE AND AT YOUR DOOR EACH NIGHT
THEY WORK YOU WITH SOME CHRISTMAS GUILT, AND SAY "IT'S ONLY RIGHT"
TO DONATE TO UNFORTUNATES AND THEIR FOLKS NEED IT MOST"
AS THEY FLASH THEIR SMILES, FAKE I/D'S BEFORE THEIR PHONY BOAST

PEOPLE SHOP AND BUY AND BUY AND THEN THEY ALL RE-GIFT
MOST TIMES YOU'LL GET CHRISTMAS CAKE, THAT'S REALLY HARD TO LIFT
YOU WORK O.T. AND DO YOUR BEST, YOUR CHRISTMAS CASH TO SAVE
AND YOU SMILE WHEN YOU GET YOUR GIFT, AND IT'S THE ONE YOU GAVE

CHRISTMAS IS LESS FESTIVE AND TO ME IT'S GOTTEN RATHER CLINICAL
WITH SCHEDULES MADE AND SALES AND THINGS, IT'S MADE ME RATHER CYNICAL
TO SAY WHAT CHRISTMAS REALLY MEANS, I READ THOMAS ACQUINAS
BUT INSTEAD, I'LL USE A QUOTE FROM SHCULTZ'S PROPHET LINUS

..."AND SUDDENLY THERE WAS WITH THE ANGEL A MULTITUDE OF THE HEAVENLY HOST PRAISING GOD
AND SAYING "GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, AND ON EARTH PEACE, GOODWILL TOWARD MEN.""

AND THAT IS WHAT CHRISTMAS IS ALL ABOUT....PLAIN AND SIMPLE.

suddenly i know
where you are on thursdays at 8 pm
the number of pillows in your bed
and what you and your grandma talks about

you only ever saw
the drawn out clothes in my wardrobe
and my hallway plant

all i craved
i got
momentarily

and then
you left

back on the sofa
count the patterns on my wall

no, i know
it was what it was
nothing more
nothing less
i guess

but i rather not have this new knowledge
in the back of my chest
it interrupts my important plans
staring at the wall

My technology nightmare
Leaves me euphoric this morning.
Addicted, like drug trials,
I knew the risks going in,
Got hooked in The Cloud &
Now it always seems easier,
With diminished psychic chafing
Whenever I go with the flow, as the
Hipsters are saying again.
Yes, the hipsters:
Finally, some kids I can relate to.
At least on some level, their music e.g.
The first thing I did this morning,
Waiting for my laptop to boot,
Was put a CD on the stereo:
Matrix Reloaded: The Album.
I set the shuffle function,
Looping back between
Linkin Park’s Session &
Team Sleep’s Passportal.
You can tell a lot about
What kind of day it will be
By the soundtrack you choose,
Your infinite play list,
Don’t ever say these kids have no culture,
Or nothing to share with us old farts.
Old Farts: an apt, Baby Boomer term in 2015.
Kids’ music, some of it quite good,
Quite 60s-worthy if you catch my drift,
As we used to say while grazing in the grass with
Hugh Masekela & his Naai Mongoe-Swazi red,
Surfrikan homeboys & band mates, & that
ANC Kwa-Guqa Township posse,
Shadowing him since Sharpeville.
That’s right, Babaloo,
Go with the flow.
Don’t fight it. You’ve been spared the unintended
Consequences of government shenanigans &
Free market meltdowns.
Consider this a CEASE & DESIST NOTICE:
Cease swimming upstream Mr. Phelps.
Desist fighting tide & current, Michael.
A mariner’s distinction, yet serviceable &
Purposed for this narrative.
“And away we go,” croons a Gleason levitation;
Aloft we go into the wild blue yonder.
The Cloud: an exalted playground.
You are atop the slide,
Kindergarten lord of all you survey,
Sultan, Chinese Emperor & Venetian Doge,
A 90-caliber Duke of Earl,
You are euphoric, Mike.

The descent into the humanoid condition
(See Paddy Chayefsky’s Howard Beale),
Is slick and precipitous.
It begins when you first finger ****
A pocket calculator or touchtone phone,
Or use a Xerox machine.
From there it’s a quick slide down
The technology ****-shoot: video games,
Spreadsheets & word processors,
Emails, texts & tweets,
Laser projection keyboards,
Wi-Fi amplifiers,
GPS navigators, &
Apps for No-Strings *** . . .
By “****-shoot” I editorialize, of course,
In a state of future shock,
Resenting planned obsolescence,
Contemptuous of shrewd **** kids,
Wharton School sharpies,
Scoping out price curves & flowcharts,
Colluding at industry trade shows,
Powwows & confabs,
Releasing newer, more versatile
Models & spinoffs, according to a
Scheme planned three years in advance.

I salt the inevitable wounds of technology,
Taking my fight to the streets, realizing too late
My sole means of alerting the flash mob
Is by so-called smart phone,
*******!
Even the revolution has gone digital.
Poor Gil Scott Heron, dead last year at 62,
Poor Scott Heron, channeled into the
Harlem Renaissance by that loyal Chicago Defender,
Subscriber & reader, to wit: his Grandma,
A “Rainbow Conspiracy” co-conspirator,
Cooking ham hocks & collard greens for that
Mythical coalition of Young Lords,
Black Panthers & SDS.
Heron’s prognostication was wrong:
“The Revolution Will (In Fact) Be Televised!”
We’ve witnessed quite a bit of it,
Lately, prime time lately,
Live by satellite from once exotic places,
Places like Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Syria & Ferguson, MO.
I say “once exotic” because it’s hard to be
Visually intoxicated by images of screaming brown men
Sporting New York Yankee ball caps,
“Vote for Pedro” T-shirts and
$200.00 Air Jordan footwear.
Admittedly, the production values of
Revolutionary journalism have improved,
Action reported Hollywood-style,
Narrative arcs, scripted episodes,
Drive-by Potemkin villages & battle scenes,
30 or 60 or 90 day shooting schedules.
Spontaneous proletarian uprisings as Reality TV,
Riveting dramas,
High Nielsen ratings & $500K
Per minute corporate sponsors.
Let’s view the new fall line-up:
(1) “Mustafa Behaving Badly!”
(2) “Tunisian Tear Gas Talent!”
(3) “Gaddafi Gets Sodomized!”

My heart breaks every spring break
It breaks for kids like me who watch as others visit their home countries
While we cannot leave the USA
We have to sit and watch people butcher bachata
Watch how they're hips refuse to accept something other than Taylor swift
We listen when they come back with stories of how they thought our food was too different and not “Mexican” enough as if all Latin America is Mexico
We hear the laughs they make at our cousins back home for just being themselves
My heart cannot handle the privilege they wear on their sleeves when they come back
Knowing I might never see my own island
How I am thought it is ***** and dangerous
A place where girls should not be left alone
While they get the clean streets, they get to avoid the gangs
How they assault our girls
Don't tell me to just save my money and go next year
It is not that simple
We don't stay in your resorts
We live en el capital y los campos nunca los hoteles y la vida blanco
Aka the places you never set foot
You go to my island
You buy bracelets de mi bandera
You try to live my roots
But complain when I dare show pride for my people
The hypocrisy breaks my heart
It's blood pours onto my all American soil
Is my island nice?
Tell me do the trees sway as if they are dancing to Anthony Santos?
Do the branches act as the leading man guiding the leaves to swing their stems to beat?
Does the Dominican anthem ring in the hearts of the people
A pride that is new and vibrant radiating off their faces
How they have clear all their schedules to make sure you see the highlights of our land
When you eat do you feel as though each bite was made with the love of thousand of abuelas?
Can you envision the hours she spends over a hot gas stove stirring los habichuelas y arroz
Using what little food they have left over to feed you over their own blood?
Tell me does my island make you proud?
It makes my heart filled with joy
To know my people did something right that you would walk the same land as slaves
That somehow we got enough pride to make sure you had a good time that you were safe that you can have whatever you wanted
On my island
Tell me, what left is there to complain about?
Mi isla es mi corazón, mi sueño, es mi vida
Pero to you it is just another week out the calendar
My heart will break every march
Because when you come back you complain how in the Dominican Republic no one spoke to you in English
And I worry, how you think when Dominicans come here we should speak English
But when you come to our home you don't want us to speak our language
Your hypocrisy hurts
My island does all it can to make you happy
But you are never pleased
What more can we do
You take pieces of us and use them in your portrait of appropriation
You take our pride and use it as joke
My heart breaks
For the children like me
Never seeing their land
Except on Instagram in the middle of march

Ive given it to god he will provide
Praying for true love and someone worthy
I ask to move up at work tired of feeling stuck
A raise so I can have a little extra
Confidence to be myself achieve greatness
That my schedules font have a time conflct
Work for my living invest in myself
School to gain knowledge to make life better
Jujitsu on my 1st passions an injury will not keep me down and out.
Return to coaching softball pushing my girls to be the best it comes from within
These are on my mind  theyve helped me grow become a better person

It wasn't worth it,
everything we went through just to be together,
those Four Months of Hell.
Your previous lovers, your precious ogling fangirls, our difficult, busy schedules.
All those obstacles and yet we still tried.
For what?
For this?
This ****** excuse of a relationship?
I'm sorry for the brutal honesty,
but honestly? I'm glad we're through.
'Cause me and you might work on paper,
but reality's a different story.

Oh, hello..
I ask Motivation to ravage me
So **** and out of reach
I wonder if he’ll notice me

Hey, Motivation.
Do I look **** with this Adderall?
When I dress like an adult?
When I spread my books wide open?

When I arch my back right out of bed
Does it make you want me?
Motivation, get out of my head!
I’m kidding... I like it when you taunt me.

When I think of you
I salivate
Look out my window,
watch you all day
You look so ****
that special way
You work those other students.

I’ll bite my lip and I’ll slowly crawl
Right to class, backpack and all
My eyes intense with innocence
Please don’t take your eyes off me.

Motivation, you know just what I like
When you make my grade point average rise
Look, Daddy-- my schedules so tight
But I still manage to squeeze in several hours to write

Oh Daddy…
Can I play with your friends?
Maturity, and Ambition?
I’m a spoiled brat but I’ll listen

Tie me up so I can’t deny you
Tell me “I’m gonna be inside you”
Please, Motivation I want to ride you
Have your friends watch…

After that, you can tell them to join in
So collegiate it must be a sin
I’m a ****** to this sort of thing
I guess I’ll take off my immaturity ring

For all you guys I’ll be so special
Fill my head with names until I go mental
Like “hardworking” and “determined”
Until I’m submissive to school and working.

Now let’s pretend
That I’m the student
I’ll call you sir,
Please don’t be prudent
Here’s my homework
Make me do it.

Mr. Motivation….

You know whats *****?
My bedroom floor.
Here I’ll  bend over
And clean it more.

My goodness, this isn’t like me!
I’m married! Don’t you see?
This is merely fantasy!
I’m incapable of priorities!

…When it’s against to whom I’m wed.

For now I’ll ride my washing machine
I’m faking that I am with thee
But this isn’t homework and my room’s not clean
I am just a bored wife of Apathy.

Captured by a passing gust, minute petals dance in the warmth of the heavy air. The sun rests overhead; its blinding, piercing rays, malicious in warmth, scorch the innocent earth. The air is hot and heavy – suffocating, if not, stifling. There lacks any existence of life in this barren wasteland. It is a dry and it is dead; the depleted desert stretches for miles and all that could be seen is but the dry terrain – the earth and sand engulfing everything that was once there. And still the minute petals dance in the blazing heat; their owner, a withered flower, suffers the harshness of the burdened terrain. Whether it be the blazing heat or the heinous droughts, the flower struggles for survival, its florid beauty, withered, but it continues to exist and play the role Someone gave.

I was born – their first baby.  I had inherited all my precursors’ failed dreams and was burdened at birth by their expectations and goals. I was to achieve what they failed to achieve, be what they failed to be. I was to walk in their footsteps and finish their unfinished business. My parents were the first to set foot on American soil; hoping to succeed in this new society, they had set valuable goals for themselves – which unfortunately they failed to complete. And knowing that their desires were no longer achievable, they bestowed their past dreams to the next generation.

Did I first hate their burden blaming Someone for placing me into the heavy shackles of the past. I felt their goals, a mountain of failure, upon my shoulders. I was drowning deep in the ocean of my precursors – their dreams, their desires, a treacherous wavefront upon my chest. I was a vassal made to fulfill the dreams left behind. I was a culprit perished in the barren lands. But above all, I was blind.

My mother was burdened by my birth; her dreams, a shattered mirror, were no longer a reality. In order to nurse my toddler self, her desires were put aside, as she worked multiple jobs to support not only our new family, but the existing family consisting of my father and his siblings, due to the death of their mother months before my birth, and the abscondment of their father to flee financial issues. She had sacrificed her livelyhood and personal dreams for the family's posterity. She had forfeit her wishes to a foul hindrance, one whom abolished her hopeful dreams: me – my birth, an anchor upon her merchant barge.

Yet, numerous times have I waken in the midst of night to find a glaring beam beneath the door; its illuminating glow, penetrates my room through the confined entrance. It was my father finally home. He was never someone to talk to for he was always at work; he was never home for his restaurant never permitted; he was never present at my birthdays but cake was bought from his sweat and soul. And often would I not see his face for months due to our disarranged schedules. Had I hated him for his absences. But now do I love him for his sacrifices. He had trusted the next generation with his heart and soul, and his absences were solely to support his loved ones.

Had I not understand, beclouded by the mist of Why me’s and I cant’s, but now do I find their bestowment a gift. Slowly, have I grown to understand; their pain, their suffering were merely a token for my success. They have gambled their livelihood solely for my efforts; it is something simple I love you’s will never equate; their debt, I must attempt to repay – sole gratitude will never recuperate the wounds of a broken dream. Their wounds tears my eyes when I envision them. Their ideals yields a weight upon my chest. Their agony crumbles my heart like an unneeded paper. In the past, did I not understand their ways but now have I realized the blessing they bestowed upon me.

Therefore, I was granted their heritage and must fate drive me to abide by its path. Do I now understand the pain they have suffered and the sacrifices they have made. I was born into a family of high hopes and expectations – I was their withering flower. Have I grown to accept that role – to shadow my precursors hoping to shatter their traditional defeat; it is the role Someone gave. And He will never be blamed again for He will rid this blazing heat and treacherous terrain so that this flower will cease to wither but bloom in the autumn air.

I have left, pig-mudding drunk,
having sipped from stock to stock on fraying cheer, stages.
I have stood in foreign basements; sweaty cellars of youth;
begot by attitude breeding spaces of the hip;
drawn circles searching for love in recreating nonsense:
a silly pupil, moon-eyed, out of breathe.

I have heard them quack, reveal their cords;
heard them whisper a thousand and one secrets,
heard them deconstruct their circumstances as pilgrims, penniless and sick.
I have their memories now, an image of a depressed,
***-imprinted pillow soaked in liquor and a feeling of nausea
where ribs sleep on this couch tonight, every night.
I have heard one refute the weight of living, ******,
on the banks of his best friends hospitality, and thought
How much is it worth?

And I have envied every **** greasy pored hipster,
the ones fixing on makingitnew now kind of clan; stared blankly at fashion,
a culture back door where pink fish scales sparkle high from runway halters
to the tops of grown men, bearded and chesty.
And your mothers pearls sit, not your mother’s pearls but your mother’s, mother’s pearls,
that old world clout ornamented around those hairy *******.
Oh yes, I have seen men become peacocks, charmed animals of *******;
seen them teeth at discourse in the noise they create, wide-mouthed and pointed;
I have seen them masked like frantic felines: wooly bully cats trying-to-roll their own meter,
their tobacco stained black charcoal over soft bricked lips quiver to their beats:
those painted lemmingings, without a parachute: kamikaze felons.

I have desired absolute sterility: white china,
in the egg of a toilet bowl I spewed out, shut-up my exuberance for the night;
sorry-pleaded my resolutions to gag out the naughty nouns in my life.
I have quit; turned in my lust for performing the lioness, paw-licking,
snarly creature: the predator of my youth, and now,
I am pretty-headed, tamed in bath oils and schedules;
a spotted fox, in plain view, one medium-sized mammal getting by.

Living under time management ideas
As if the decision was ours
Night time seems never ideal
No time to question  schedules or hours

Insomnia has chosen me
Ignoring these standards
And if it was on me
To chose her or not

And if I had the power
To decide my living fate
I would still be married to her

Because insomnia keeps you awake
She loves your eyelashes
Moving up and down
What else could I choose
other than those who love me?

And insomnia will keep you awake
No intention to bother, maybe
No intention to creep down your tense shoulders

And still
I would choose her
Sans hesitation
No other temptation

Because Night time is for the hungry
Night time won’t tell you you are wasting time
Night time is the ring insomnia carried the day she proposed

And so I sometimes wear the ring
It’s cold and simple
Nothing interesting for those
who have decided to dream
with their eyes closed

But to me, night time has no boundaries
The ring fits us well
The poets and the thinkers

But beware because this ring is also carried by the harmful
They steal the ring off a thinker once in a while
They are silent and could be watching you
Not owning their personal marriage to Insomnia
Only thinking to commit selfish acts
Waiting for you to forget about the ring and the vowel
Waiting for you to manage the little time He’s told you own

Beware of being awake too
He could confuse you with the harmful man
Because you are awake and only those who chose to ignore the imaginative scarcity of time are made to start a revolution for life

So sleep tomorrow, or the next week
Because tonight is all you have guaranteed as your thinking time.

Well, why not me, I reasoned
(No surprise to friends and loved ones,
As I have always considered my time
On this spinning patch of rock
As something of a monument to the value of pragmatism)
But there were still the normal sine-wave vacillation
Between tenuous optimism and odds-driven grim reality,
Fanciful discussions of Chinese herbs and Mexican clinics
And, later still, of time frames and stock transfers,
All the while various folks attired in suits and clinic coats
Debating matters pertaining to the coda of my personal symphony
(Doing so as if yours truly wasn’t even in the room)
Until, deciding my input might be somewhat pertinent, I said
If it’s all the same to you, I would like to go home.

It was, in a sense, like getting back on an old Schwinn
(Fender dented, rubbing on the front tire just the least little bit,
The chain needing oil, grudgingly giving in
To the demands of the crank)
Sitting, unused but inordinately patient, next to the barn,
The whole notion of settling back into a pace you’d forgotten,
Like dialing back a metronome from allegro to andante
Without missing a beat or flubbing a note.
What’s more, there were the sensations you’d never made time for
While under the thumb of daily deadlines and train schedules,
Greeting you like friends you hadn’t seen for twenty years
But started gabbing with as easy as slipping on old jeans:
The scent of the lilacs, overpowering but borderline mystical,
The informal yet precise ballet of the cattails and jewelweed,
The fields of cows that, even though you know it can’t be the case,
Are populated by the same Bessie and Bossie
You taunted and pelted with watermelon as a child
(I have made it a point to proffer my apologies),
The dark, pine-choked hills,
Formidable but accessible, even comforting.
Sometimes, when I am not paying attention,
I catch myself all but tearing up,
And I say to myself, ever so softly,
As not to disturb the squirrels and the wrens,
I had almost forgotten.  Christ forgive me,
I had almost forgotten.


I’d assumed (sometimes, I can be astounded
At the full extent of my own foolishness)
That she would merely take a leave of absence;
She has, after all, an alphabet full of advanced degrees,
A rainmaker’s reputation and the billable hours to match.
Columbia and Harvard Law, after all,
But she grew up down the road just a piece in Ebensburg,
So this is all part and parcel of her as well
Hard coded in the DNA for better or worse, she’ll say,
All the while shaking her head and laughing softly.
Surely you don’t want to stay here, I’ll say,
Boorishly rational in the face of everything
Which would argue to be otherwise,
You’ve read enough Forbes and Fortune;
Altoona is dead, Johnstown is dying,
And she allows that, for a time, coming back
Was the source of some misapprehension on her part,
Until it dawned on her that on those rare occasions
It had occurred to her to glance skyward in mid-town,
She had seen faceless tiles of windows
Sufficient to sheet a Great Pyramid,
An Armageddon’s worth of angels and gargoyles in the cornices,
But she had not, even once, ever seen the stars.

I think in statistics,
and you in heartbeats.

I am. You are. I am. You are.
I am chemical-based, you are a meaningful scar.

You explore,
covet,
and hoard,
anything near you.

While I am
stuck,
looking at my addiction,
through a lens.

I am forever cursed:
to skim for importance,
to look only at the bigger picture,
to glance only with logic's borrowed eye,

but you are here beside me, and you take in every little detail.

To me, blood is but a fluid,
yet in your eyes,
it is the fuel for lovers and the ink for poetry.

You are feather pens, I am erasable chalk.

The insomniac that is so filled with dreamer-talk.
So enticed by the world, that you couldn’t close an eye.

My mind is logic, reasoning, and your complete opposite.
Every word has a different meaning in your perspective
and every syllable holds a secret—
     one you must find out.

I am textbooks and punctuality and schedules.
But you, you are the only person I can wait on.

This is a cycle with ragged edges, bizarre.
I am. You are. I am. You are.

We are combined; a marvelous oxymoron.

I feel like I have too much love to give now.
I feel like I cant wait for the road ahead of me.
I'm tired of lust, meaningless *** or one night stands. I want a first kiss that will last a lifetime.
I feel like I have these wounds that will never heal, nor will I want them too, makes me understand more about what I felt, learn what is real.
I want you more then I want the sun, and as you know im scared of the dark.
Love you like the work day is long.
If you met someone ill be here,
If you left someone ill be here,
If you are happy being you ill be here,
If your married ill be here
Im I'm still with you we are just on different schedules.

People say I’m always late,
And that I always make them wait;
I take so long to arrive,
They could **** me with their eyes.

I don’t mean any disrespect;
And if I could I would correct
This awful quirk of mine,
Of never getting there on time.

Could I have a broken clock?
I wish I knew the method to unlock
The secret to a scheduled life,
And thus avoid so much strife.

I’ve tried the systems, plans and schemes,
To change my life has been my dream;
But interruptions plague my day,
Distractions lead me all astray.

It’s not that I am unaware
Of Time’s passage or don’t care.
No, I savor every minute;
I wish I had them without limit.

The seconds pass, I feel them go;
I mourn them all, you know.
I want to hold them, keep them fast;
Not let them slip into the Past.

And that’s the reason I’m a mess
At schedules and the rest;
I can’t work fast, I can’t resist;
The weight of Time I can’t dismiss.

I hope the world will understand
Just why I botch up every plan.
Confusion is never my desire;
Each moment’s like a jewel to admire.

I ask your patience, if you please;
I’ll try my best to appease;
But if I’m late have sympathy,
I mix up Time with Eternity.

Perhaps there are 100,000 forms of darkness,
100,000 forms
of what they call depression.
I know one
or two of them.
There is no suffering scale, no way to compare
the suffering of one
human being,
or one illness
to another.

So we hold candlelight vigils
build totems to gather the universe and pull
back clarity around one another’s edges
But I can't burn sage inside me.
It may attract the bad you hide from. Or
is it the good that scares you?

The world beyond the bond
of hearts is a town
without pity.
A dull inhumanity of systems failing the people
we don’t look at.
In this way the brittle tethers of association are tested.

Hand in hand greeting the blackening sky, bearing
down like the face of a missing child’s parents,
staring at one another
knuckles clasp tight.
Your smile the remaining mirror at the end of the world.

If you were here, or I there
I’d be home right now. On the inside
we’re both waiting for one
another still.
Because I’m the same,
but not.

I am ruthlessly forgetful.
Names, birthdays, work schedules.
But I know the way your hair looks in motion.
The way your face looks
refracted through a cigarette ember.
How when your mood shifts,
the church in your eyes
becomes torn, battered, and bare.

If we could just give
another go-round.
It would be different,

Remember,
your best.
Where you are, might
be, may go.
When it used to feel so good.

The scents of Illness fade again
As godly Schedules run—
Her victor's Streak will be obtained
To blaspheme selfly Funds—

Then She awaits the planning shared
Immutably discreet—
For only apt the Mammal pair
When Intellectually—

It's not always going to be perfect
some days will be busier than others
with more work done than attention given

some weeks will be harder than most
time, us both lacking enough of it
wishing there was more to have and spend

now and then
the chaos of priority will challenge us
to choose between the crazy of our schedules
and the enjoyment of each other's company

I'm not sure when this will happen
or how often
but one thing I know for certain
is that each day will always be better if it ends in the same bed
and each morning brighter if it starts with light peeking in to wake us from the same window
spending a night together
is the only way I know how to stop time

the hectic of life will come when we least expect it
the struggles, right smack dab in the center of contentedness
there will be moments where we question our own sanity
wondering what to do with all this passion
when the only real option we have is to embrace it

we're not always going to be perfect
we're not always going to be ideal
there is too much unknown in life to call us a kind of forever
I can not promise that we are
but I can promise a few things

we may not always be successful in our pursuit of each other's happiness
but I can promise you
I will always try to find yours first

I will be your tomorrow
always pushing you to make it there
the call of a new day and a guarantee of something great the next
so that even in the lowest of points you know the future is rooting for you

I will wear a smile even when you're not around
just because I know it's your favorite look on me

I will be as grounded as possible
just so you know there's always a part of this earth that loves you

and when the day comes when we do argue
I can promise I will push the bull in me aside for a little
us, both taurus, could easily fight to the death but I
want nothing more than to be the first to surrender

it's not always going to be perfect
I, will not always be perfect
but you have never wanted me to be anything close to it
only happy

some days we will question how worth it all of the effort we put in is
you'll have my laugh and the curve of my lips to remind you
and I'll have yours

"It's good to have a schedule, 'cause then you'll have at least pseudo-legitimate excuses not to do things you want to do even less than what's scheduled. It can also be nice to have a regular rhythm in Life other than your heartbeat and breathing, which, if you're like me, go overlooked enough as it is."

"If I need more rhythm in my life, I play drums."

"You fancy yourself a percussionist too, eh?
Well, for a fellow clock, you're pretty **** sharp!
What the hell you talkin' to me for? You got it already."

"Just finish tuning that guitar already. 'Open Z minor,' right?"

"It's 'drop go-****-yourself,' actually. Your mom's favorite."

"Funny, your mom loves it when I bang with my eyes closed."

"Alright, both of you: shut it before I leave both of your moms beggin' for more. After last time, they sure as **** know we bassists go deeper."

"As the frontman and vocalist, all I have to say is that worthy ladies appreciate the guys who are confident and good with their mouths, so y'alls gotta be sure to get in on those backup vocals! Also, before I forget: please ask your moms about my Funkadelic records. When things have gotten a little too freaky, I tend to be in a hurry. Whips, latex, chains, *******, ball-gags, belts, oils, sandpaper, rubbing alcohol, vinyl, blowtorches, candles, wine.. you know how it is: it can be hard to remember everything you leave in the locker at the end of a long day at the gym!"

"Hah, I'm sure. But, like I was saying.. we need to schedule more gigs."

"I already scheduled some more with your m-"

"I know. She told me."

I saw him today
He looked just as he did months ago
He hair was all in his face instead of slicked back
His shirt was tucked in and he was wearing a belt
He looked like his old self again
The one who I knew, really knew
I understood his brief sigh, could wrap my mind around his gentle smile
Could wake up to his breathing
I had never loved someone in such a way where it consumed me
He was delicate, fragile, but could stand in his two feet with no effort
And I loved when he was drunk, stumbling into my arms
It was the only time I ever really held him if only for a fleeting moment
I wish I had never known him before the change
It would be easier for my lungs to collect air
If I hadn't tasted his secrets, hadn't washed my hands in his laughter
If I hadn't met the boy who cared so much for the world
He never faltered in his genuine approach, never had to even try to be a light
He just was
I know that in this drought I will have to move on from him
But it is hard to walk away from something you once found such solace in
He was a thunderstorm
Could put me to sleep in troubled times, the sound of his rain
But the echo of his thunder was enough to wake the dead
The destruction he left behind him was merely a walk through an empty hallway
He had no idea what he had done to me and still I think he is oblivious
I do not want to tell him
Do not want him to feel pain or remorse for a girl he swore he'd love forever
I've learned it is easy to believe the things you want to hear
I was deaf to every motive that was not to my liking
I should have seen it coming from the moment he said he was just too busy
Hectic schedules are likely dry seasons and the sand of our hourglass had run out
Time had slipped off of my fingers like rain drops off the window of a car speeding down the highway
Flying by but moving ever so slowly
Evaporating had never seemed so malicious and
I saw him today
He looked just as he did months ago
He hair was all in his face instead of slicked back
His shirt was tucked in and he was wearing a belt
He looked like his old self again
The one who I knew, really knew
But I don't know him anymore
And he
Does not know me either

9-2-13

I think she's grateful there's people out there like me
Curious, we are, about her

Wondering now we can help her
And her friend, Mother Nature

Instead of covering the ground with cigarette ashes
Dressed as innocent, pretty little flower girls

Choking the green lovely grass
Acting as the reaper
Demanding a death wish on her friend already

Blaming it on stress
Until we see salt and pepper fields

Instead of being the norm, she's grateful
That we don't throw our useless junk into the sea
Drowning all the life there is

Smothering life and having busy schedules
Having schedules too full
To forget about life
No free time with our own sweet little families
Schedules asking too much of
To cast life off to the side
To only worry about ourselves
We only worry about what society thinks of us

And soon, we'll all be robots
Choking the life out of life
And all life will be gone
If not gone already

Brackets

Your mum picked you up in daddy’s BMW,
we had to wait an hour while they scrubbed the brains of another son off the roof of the 125

(Why they built a multi storey car park on top of the bus station is a mystery to me.)

You carefully colour coordinated your files and scrutinized your revision schedules,
we watched nicked CCTV footage of two blokes smoking crack and burning down the bowling pavilion next door

(the old boys never did raise enough to repair it.)

You snubbed each other because of different tastes in jumpers,
we watched acid casualties talk politics with football hooligans

(a hastily rolled joint bridged the obvious gap.)

You lounged in the common room in your study periods,
our lesson got cancelled because John had been smashed in the face with a fire extinguisher

(and our tutor used to be a lifeguard.)

You worried about fashion and discussed the injustice of last night’s X Factor result,
we watched Neil’s head crash into his keyboard after he’d scoffed all his methadone in one go

(again.)

Hey spider,
dangle there
on the spout
until morning
if you dare
of the fiberglass
off-white tub-
I have no fear
of your silken web
now,
you go about your business
as if I am
not there sitting
on my throne-
just hoping,
when morning comes you are
way far up in the corner
sleeping, as it seems our schedules
rarely overlap

I was down on my luck** and had not returned to my job nor had any notion of returning again. I had a plane ticket for Boston that would fly me to Minnesota that was scheduled to depart in twenty days. I had still not yet bought the bus ticket to Boston. I had one hundred dollars to my name. My friend Billy had owed me one hundred dollars as well and gave me one hundred and thirty dollars in 1988 pesos coins as repayment. Knowing that it might be difficult to find a place who would honestly convert them and that their worth fluctuated, I would have much rather he paid me in US dollars but I took them in thanks and didn’t mention it. He knew what I was thinking and told me that if I couldn’t get a fair price that I could mail them to him when he got to Missouri and he would mail me what he owed in cash but until then all of his money was ******* in his trip home and even that was barely enough but that he had checked on their worth and said it should cover the one-hundred he owed. I smiled and we warmly shook hands to seal the deal.  We spent the day riding around in his wrangler and running some final errands for him before he would be gone.
The three years we had known each other might as well have been a lifetime and had felt just as full as one and had gone by just as fast. We ‘d drunk coffee and smoked cigarettes outside of Elizabeth’s bookstore. We’d watched in silence the beautiful women that would walk passed without much attention given to us. We, however, gave great attention to every ***** and bounce and shimmy. There were some gorgeous women that came to the bookstore those years. We shot pool with Bernie, who had the keys to the Mason Lodge and had many great conversations on the fire escape. We played games of chess in the bookstore. We drove around listening to the blues. Sometimes we got together, the three of us, at Billy’s and we’d make a fire and they’d drink coffee because they were old men and had had to stop drinking years before and I would drink some bourbon or wine after a cup or two of coffee and then we’d share a pack of cigarettes between us and we’d feel the warmth of the fire and have some good laughs. Bernie was diagnosed with a rare and terrible cancer in North Carolina on a trip to see his son in the Air force and had been brought back home a few months later and beside his wife and daughter and son fell silently to sleep and never woke up again. I hadn’t gone to see him but Billy said that when he saw him he didn’t mention his condition once and that he even got out of bed and sat with him on the back porch that looked out upon the open land and sky and they talked like nothing was wrong and laughed and said they’d see each other again. Bernie died a week later.
I hadn’t planned it this way but the opening to this story is very much dedicated to Bernie, and Billy, I hope you get safely back to Missouri and that your pesos will help me make it through the fall.
I had not told my mother or my love, Rosalie, that I had left my job. So I made fake work schedules and left the house and returned home at all the appropriate times with a lanyard I had kept from work hanging from my neck and hung it on the doorknob when I got home. During the day there were several options to occupy the eight-hour shifts. The town ran very much so due to the college and I would go up there and browse around the old books called the stacks and take a few with me out onto the grass of the quad and read them. I would read for hours. I got restless every now and then and would even read while I walked in circles up and down and back and forth the crisscrossing paths under the trees of the quad. This was great until I got caught for taking these books from the school at my own leisure and soon it was revealed that I was not a student there and they told me not to come back. Some days I would run along the riverside. I enjoyed long walks on the train tracks around the city with my headphones on and taking pictures. I always had my backpack on, even if nothing was in it, but usually there was a book and a pair of Rosalie’s ******* and on occasion I would take this out and close my eyes to smell them and I would miss her very much. We lived with a few towns between us and she was a very busy and dedicated young woman. She was working in nursing homes and taking care of home patients and going to school full time on top of it and doing clinicals and taking care of her little brother because it takes a lot sometimes for a man to be cured from his drinking habits, which was very much true in their fathers case and her mother was a wild and paranoid woman who refused to believe that her boyfriend was beating Rosalie’s little brother while she was away at work. So Rosalie took great care and love for her brother and also custody.
I, however, had not been so responsible with my life. When I came back from the Army it was not as a hero but I could tell a great hero’s story because I’d known them all but mostly they were characters in stories I’d read in the barracks, or secondhand tales given in extravagant detail during chow and none of them were true but they sounded quite exciting. It made the time at bars when I had gotten home less lonely because I could tell a tale in first person convincingly enough that many an old vet, with his own made up fantasies, would act like they believed me and would share their stories and we didn’t have to sit there thinking about the buddies we lost or the women whom had fallen out of love with us one time or another or the families we were avoiding. I liked going to the bars, but I wouldn’t have had anything to say if it weren’t for those stories.
I met Rosalie a month after having been discharged. She sat in Elizabeth’s bookstore and was studying for a class. I was with Billy at the time and we were outside smoking cigarettes when we saw her walk in.
“Did you see that?” Billy said. I saw her all right. She had gone inside and we were still sipping our coffees and smoking and I was still seeing her, no matter what else walked by or how pretty the sky was or the warmth of the sun.
“That’s a good girl right there,” Billy said, “not like most of these others we see out here, kid.” It annoyed me a little that Billy was still talking about her, egging me on a little. As I had said, I had seen her and he was disrupting my fantasizing and I had known she was a kind girl and I wanted to save my dream of her for a little while longer before I brought it to her.
“I know,” I said.
“Well, go and see about her then!”
“I’ll go”
I had no intention of letting her pass by but there was thunder rumbling in my chest and butterflies in my stomach and I had suddenly become cold even though it was sixty-five degrees out on the sidewalk and something was keeping me from standing. “I’ll have one more smoke and then I’ll go in for more coffee and see her then.”
“Tonto’s nervous! Ha ha ha!” Billy got a kick out of the thought and patted me on the back. “If you want,” He said, “I’ll go say hello for you.” He was still amused.
“You’re twice her age Bill,” I said, “she’d probably call the cops on your old ugly mug”
“The cops may be called because of how well endowed I am and she’ll be screaming and the neighbors will worry about her and call the cops on us”
Billy was always talking about his manhood and I never knew any good rebuttals because I was honest with myself and so I never had a response. I let him brag. All I knew is I had one and I knew it wasn’t large but none of the women I ever slept with ever said it was too small and they all enjoyed lying with me afterwards and talking quite a while before falling to sleep and sometimes the *** had been wild.
The cigarette was finished and I was still nervous but I didn’t want to hesitate any longer. I don’t even think she’d even seen me when she walked into the store.
I went inside and ordered a coffee and looked over to her. She was on a laptop and had a pile of books beside her and some papers and she looked up and our eyes met. I held the glance with her for a little longer than a moment. I was a little embarrassed and she was beautiful and I was wondering what my face looked like to her and if my eyes had been creepy but she lifted a corner of her lips and smiled before looking back to her work and then my shoulders relaxed and I realized I had held my breath. I laughed to myself at my own ridiculousness and let it go and then walked up to her and extended my hand and she took it with a smile and I looked dead into her beautiful hazel eyes again with confidence and we’ve been in love ever since.

The reason for my trip to Minnesota was to see my old friends from the Army: Grady and Hank. We hadn’t seen each other since I was discharged eight years ago and they reached out to me when they could but I wasn’t very good at keeping in touch with them. After I left the Army it was hard for me to talk to them. I felt I was missing out on something and I didn’t want to think of them dying without me and I didn’t like those feelings so I tried to pretend they didn’t exist but they kept me in the loop of things and always asked how I was doing no matter how well I stayed in touch with them or not. It meant much more than they’ll ever know that they did. So when they said they had both gotten out nothing was going to stop me from reconnecting with them. They said they were going to drive east to see me. I called them back.
“Let’s not hang around here in Maine,” I said, “it’ll be the middle of fall and there’s nothing to do around here. Instead of you guys coming all the way out here and then staying for a week let’s make the whole trip a seven-day adventure and you ******* can drop me off home when it’s over?”
“That sounds all well and good Russ but how the hell are you getting out here?”
“I bought a ticket, I’ll be there on the twenty-second of October at eleven.”
“That’s what I like hearing old pal!” Grady said through the phone, “Now that sounds more like the Russ I know. You’ll find me at the airport at eleven. I’ll bring a limousine with a bar and buy a couple of hookers for us”
“No hookers, Grady”
“Yes, hookers!” Grady said, “do you still do blow?”
“No”
“Good. Me neither. Honestly, I don’t do hookers anymore also. But it sounded like a proper celebration didn’t it?”
“It did.”
“Well, then its settled Russ. I’ll see you on the twenty-second of October at eleven PM sharp in a long white limo and I’ll bring the *****, the blow and the ****** and it’ll be like old times.”
“Sounds perfect Grady, I can’t wait.”
We hung up.

The plan was I would spend the night at Grady’s and the next morning we’d get Hank and we’d head for Chicago as soon as we could. One of their friends, Lemon, would be making the trip with us and would be there at Hanks when we got there in the morning. Lemon was an excellent shot with the rifle and a better guitarist and Grady told me I’d get right along with him. He told me he was at the range and the Sergeant was yelling in this black boys ear that he couldn’t shoot worth a ****.
“MY ******* GOT BETTER AIM BOY!” “I CAN HIT YOUR FAT UGLY MOMMA IN THE EYE AT TWICE THE DISTANCE” “YOU COULDN’T HIT PUBERTY IF I DROPPED YOUR ***** FOR YOU!”
The Sergeant, Grady said, went on and on at the top of his lungs yelling at this black guy and we all stopped and stared at him.
“As the Sarg kept hollering the kids rifle kept popping off shots at the target and you’d hear him grab another clip when the other ran out and reload it and then keep shooting but none of us could tell where the shots were going. The Sarg was so loud and the shots had such a rhythm all of us at the range stopped and looked over. There wasn’t a single bullet hole anywhere on the target except directly in the center where every bullet he had shot had gone through and nowhere else.
“Finally Lemon ran out of bullets and the Sarg quit hollering and he called him to attention.”
“Where did you learn to shoot a rifle Jefferson,” The Sergeant inquired.
“Sergeant, I have never shot a rifle before in my life”
“Do you think it’s funny to lie to your Sergeant?”
“No, Sergeant”
“So why are you lying?”
“I’m not lying Sergeant”
“What did you do before you enlisted, Private?”
“I worked on the farm for my father, Sergeant”
“At ease soldier, Staff Sergeant Dominguez would like to have a word with you.”
And that’s how Lemon went to training to become a ****** but he broke his leg in training and got sent home.
“Well ****,” I said, “He must be one helluva guitarist.”

We were to spend a day in Chicago and camp at the Indiana Dunes and then drive to Detroit and spend a day and camp there and then head to Cleveland and Pittsburgh and Philadelphia if we had the time and then go to Boston and they’d drop me off at the train the following morning and I’d go home from there. But all of that was still twenty days away and I was down on my luck and had to save every cent I possibly could for the trip. Rosalie was excited for me. She knew how much I hated being home and that I stayed around to be with her even as much as she said that I shouldn’t let her stop me from doing what I wanted with my life but I really had no clue but I did know that she was the love of my life. She was happy to hear of this adventure and supported me but she didn’t know how broke I was and I hid it well by cooking all of our meals with things at my mothers apartment or my fathers house depending on where she came during her once-a-week sleepovers. She was proud of me for how well I had been with managing my money. There’s nothing to it, I told her.
The summer had been one of the best summers I’d ever had. Rosalie and I got to spend a lot of time together in-between our own lives and every moment had been cherished. I worked often and hard for twelve bucks an hour for more than forty hours a week but had nothing to show for it now. I’d gotten in trouble with the law and the lawyer was costly and so were the fines and the bail, even though I got the bail back I had to dump it into my beautiful old truck and then some because I hadn’t taken the best of care of it. I also spent most of my money on dinners out with Rosalie and I liked buying her little brother things every now and then and I had a terrible habit of buying books. Also, I had a habit of going to the bars on weekends and I wasn’t a modest drinker.
The last paycheck I got was for five hundred dollars and I spent it on a room for a long weekend at an Inn by the ocean for Rosalie and I to end such a good summer properly. Money is for having a good time and is for others. That’s how I’ve always thought it should be spent. When you’re broke, it’s easy to find lots of good times in the simple endeavors and I enjoyed those but I also enjoyed getting away with Rosalie. So when I say I was down on my luck do not think I was unhappy about it, I had lots of good luck before I’d gotten down on it and Rosalie is possibly the best luck a young man could ever come across. Still, I only had one hundred dollars to my name and three 1988 pesos coins that I’m not sure will be worth the other hundred and with twenty days to go. It’s going to be pretty tight.

I want to talk about our time by the ocean now...

(c) 2015

The television is getting worse, I have noticed on its viewing
What the **** is going on, what do you think your doing ?
Maybe its ungrateful, but our minds are just left stewing
Why must people endure repeats, through years of program queuing?
An example is the game shows, there on every side just brewing
We're paying for the privilege, its the public that your *******

We don't want Deal Or No Deal, with all those crap crisp boxes
Q.I. is not that interesting, it has too many paradoxes
Who Wants To Be A Millionaire ? is that just a stupid question?
I would love to Strike It Lucky, so what is your suggestion?

Pointless has the correct name, cos that's exactly what it is
Has Jasper Carrot got Golden *****, or is he *******
Why is there ***** Money, did they ran out of toilet tissues
Julian Clary had Sticky Moments, and outrageous camping issues

Whenever Opportunity Knocks, well just open the door
If your going to Take Me Out, then what are you waiting for?
Don't Name That Tune In One, I'd rather hear it all
A Question Of Sport is so boring, its hardly on the ball

Is it the Weakest Link, because the chain is full of rust?
Didn't Blockbusters close down, and the video shop go bust ?
Why Should I Supermarket Sweep, Dale can sweep it himself
The pyramid Game is just, an apex polyhedron triangular shelf

I Don't want to go on Mastermind, and look like a ******* fool
If I went Through The Keyhole, then I must be minuscule
Why Would I Lie To You? wouldn't that be a bit two faced
I'm not sure if Celebrity Squares, are really all straight laced?
Could you please repeat yourself, I did not Catch that Phrase
Just how many crystals where there, in the Crystal Maze?

Was Spin Star cancelled, because celebrities where break dancing
Or was it Bradley Walsh's giant fruit, that needed some enhancing?
Why is it called The Chase, when there's no chasing involved?
The Chasers are sat on there arses, so The Chase is never solved

I don't think it is the Wheel Of Fortune, even if you do
You don't really get much fortune, till you solve the final clue
Paul Daniels said Every Second Counts, so forget the introductions
Just get on with the game play, don't even bother with instructions

Philip Schofield played with Five Gold Rings, isn't that just wrong
I thought that Five Gold Rings, belonged to a Christmas song
Ted Rogers read such stupid clues, it made it hard to win
No wonder 3.2.1 contestants, usually won poor Dusty Bin

I would really love to drink, some of that Celebrity Juice
But first I'll have to find out, which ones are tight or loose
I'm not lucky enough to have 300 Blanks, with a lovely lady in a bed
I'll have to hand it to myself, and have a Blankety Blank instead

Mr & Mrs is outdated, most Marriages are not enforced
Those couples who where happy once, are probably divorced
Treasure Hunt used a Helicopter, clues found by Anneka Rice
She ran around quite frantically, but her **** was rather nice

Isn't Ann Widdecombe a dark horse, she liked a Cleverdick
I Suspect if she had the chance, she'd like a **** that's thick
There used to be Telly Addicts, but now they are history
We no longer want Noel Edmunds, or crap games on our TV

Poor Bully tried to play Darts, but his aim was far to high
It isn't all that great or Super, missing the Bullseye
Come on now Jim its not fare, making the contestants cry
To look at what you could have won, and kiss the prize goodbye

Naked Jungle was a one off, Keith Chegwin in the buff
I'm glad it did not continue, so please don't Call My Bluff
Countdown has been on for years, we've had a ****** enough
Only Connect and 15 to 1, are hard and far too tough

Family fortunes and Eggheads, we don't want all this stuff
Fort Boyard and Mock The Week, stick them up you chuff
Going For Gold and Gladiators, too old and looking rough
University Challenge and Impossible, there really dull and duff

Never Mind The Buzzcocks, it's a forgotten piece of Fluff
Crosswits and Chain Letters, should be dragged of by the scuff
Hole in the wall and Alphabetical, are so right of the cuff
The Cube and The Million Pound Drop, I'd walk of in a huff

Many game shows throughout the years, all needed a good host
But there isn't any spontaneity, so none of them can boast
Instead of reading from a script,and acting liked their dosed
Take the plunge make it your own, don't be a mindless ghost
Why don't hosts try to be their best, and try to be their most
Wouldn't it make more sense, to keep your audience engrossed

Ben Shepherd comes to mind, he doesn't seem all there
With his ****** expressions, weird smile and stupid stare
How did he become a host, was it all based on a dare
Why is his act robotic, its more than we can bare

Its like watching a recording, this isn't really fare
If we are subjected to this crap, then we deserve a share
I guess its our misfortune, its enough to make you swear
We're already at our Tipping Point, so we no longer care

Now I'm not saying that every host, is as bad as old Ben Shep
In fact there is at least one guy,who has a better Rep
He may not be a large man, in fact he played a Lep
But at least he isn't wooden, and he's with you every step

Warwick Davis's Act is Tenable, and he has not compromised
With good hosting skills, jokes and quips Warwick has realized
Although I'm not a game show fan, I am pleasantly surprised
He stands tall over the other hosts, even though he is pintsized

Why keep making game shows, was there a voting pole?
I believe there are too many, they are so ******* droll
As bad as all reality, the schedules they both stole
Axe the ******* lot of them, and chuck them down a hole

Just take a look at Brucie, may god rest his soul
He was around for decades, and hosting was role
Taking over all the shows, seemed to be old Brucie's goal
The years weren't kind to old Bruce, they definitely took there toll

There is a Brucie Bonus, available for every Generation
All you really needed, was the right kind of motivation
Nice to see you to see you nice, was Bruce's obligation
Life was the name of the game, in a family situation

A cuddly toy on a conveyer belt, in a prize observation
Didn't he do well all, depends on your own determination
If You Play Your Cards Right, Dollies Dealing a sensation
You don't get anything for a pair, maybe its infatuation

You can freeze but you cant stick, all dealt in isolation
Do you want to bet on it, was a gambling invitation
The price was always right, just use your imagination
Come on down to old Bruce, win a car and a vacation

Maybe he's a legend, with Bruce's game show graduation
A chance to host a new show, a Good Game realization
What's on the board miss ford, moving on to a new creation
It turned camp when they shut that door, and hired Larry Grayson

What was it with Bruce Forsyth, he was far too keen
He monopolised the hosting, on the game show scene
Seizing every opportunity, ever since he was fourteen
Just like Command and Conqueror, on the TV screen
He took on all the game shows, maybe he's just mean
But I cant help but to wander, where else has he been?

With all of his catchphrases, and a chin that was obscene
A wig that was like shredded wheat, it never should be seen
I don't know if I'm being harsh, it maybe his routine
And its all in his makeup, and part of Bruce's gene
Perhaps he liked the studio, and had too much caffeine
Along with the all dodgy food, in the BBC canteen

Now Challenge screens the game shows, but there all so ******* old
We've already seen all these games, they've already all been sold
I do not mean to sound too flippant, but why wont you be told
Your sending your viewers up the wall, and your audiences cold
Now let me state what's obvious, I hope I am not too bold
We don't want all these rehashed games, there hardly TV gold

On my way home from work
I passed by a *****
In a tent-sized, plain orange t-shirt.
It was forever-stained
With fossilised fluids;
A chest cavity of spilt milk,
And subsequent tears.

A double-take took me
To the green and brown keratin
That dragged relentlessly over concrete.
His sloth paws were protesting
Every step of grey existence,
In the colourful expanse of new morning;
They were clawing the ground
And submitting to gravity.

He looked right on through me,
Through everyone and everything
As if part of a hologram
That was no happier, but at least
Apart. I re-count his limbs to ensure
Whether he is even human anymore.
I surmise: only partially.

He milks his palms whenever possible
To heal the cracks of wind exposure
And old substance abuse.
This was no doorstep lounger;
He was a stray cat with no freedom,
And only washed his hair when it rained.

Then, as I later adjust my mask
In the foggy bathroom mirror,
Mind preoccupied with dissertations,
Affectations and payment schedules,
I realise that it is I who has lost my humanity.

Ghost Relics**

Downtown,
where Main intersects Main
you'll see the last living tissue
of a breathing bazaar.
They weighed down her chest with bricks and girders.
It's a wonder she breathes at all.
-
Wander too far in any direction
and you're sure to see the husks
of once proud and bustling businesses.
Abandoned sanctums of mortar and majesty.
Scars of the Midwest etched as constants in our mind.
Dusty and silent since the cradle.
-
The theaters are bedeviled with dolled up haunts
who just wandered over from Greenwood to catch the matinee.
Management still leaves the lights on for kicks after hours
to throw off their sleep schedules while they wait for the feature to start.
Up all night, sleep all day; they read by neon and slumber under Sol.
Here I am, left lounging in The Devil's Chair. Crickets keep quavering.
-
Underneath the Franklin Street overpass sleeps a family bound by naught.
They watch in dawn's light as the few pedestrian that traverse Cerro Gordo
advert their eyes as some sort of silent symbol of respect for their situation.
It's as if the very stare of a privileged man could drain 'til depleted.
They never ask for anything, they just wade it out and listen to
the cars overhead, the train-clock's trumpet, and the heartbeats in between.
-
Leaks are patched, potholes filled, and yet
we're still loosing blood; becoming beguiled.
So many stray cats in the civilian savanna,
aimlessly seeking names and second chances.
"This premises is under police video surveillance" -
hanging like ornaments from streetlamp poles.
-
Guarding the gates
of a dwindling dominion,
as the armies of Union and Grand
wait in their camps
for the rust to take hold
of her iron veins.