I don't bother anybody
Spend my days, doing my thing
Show up here and there
Hang around awhile
Then blow the scene
I've been called "too common"
Not welcome, at the affluent homes
Constantly harassed, insulting digs
Never left alone
I've never been offered
Good food or a well kept bed
I'm beginning to think
Some are wishing me dead
I've been intentionally poisoned
A brute broke my neck
I was kicked in the face
Out of spite, I would guess
Could this be my fate?
Cut down in my prime?
Chopped up and spit out
Have you no mercy?
I'm just a dandelion!!!
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
He was a homosocialistsexual
His clothes were multi-textural
Often had thoughts exceptional
With the swallow of a random pill
His friends sometimes glittered
In lights harsh, but not bitter
All his little sisters
Had lost their sense of feel
Circles bent by passing time
Trying to keep the stars aligned
A simple trick within his mind
To take his own advice
Play fair and simple
A tsunami starts with a ripple
Leave your troubles on the pillow
When you get up from the night
____________________________________________
My neighbors are asexual.
They're constantly adding on to their house.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 4:36 PM UTC
Real
The real deal
That's pretty much how I live
And what I've learned to live with
Not so much what
As who
And the who is me
And how I choose
What some might perceive
as stumbling paths
Are my simple walks in the park
The rain
The sun
Have little effect
On my well earned
And fought for at times,
invisible umbrella
I step gently
Not when I am unsure
But when there are crowds
of others who may be
I follow no light
I just reach
For the nearest hold
My hands might find
Whether smooth or jagged
It gives a bit of rest
Being more timely
than being deserved
Still hanging on
Despite the fact
This is as high
As this effort may go
But I am not a pretender
My hands are calloused
From a climb
Somewhere below
If this be the space, of my legacy
It's where my heart, and myself belong
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 12:40 PM UTC
It seems like I'm
on the inside again,
of the outside,
I'm usually living in
There is little fear, here
In this place of my own making
The only things breaking
Are thoughts,
thrown against the wall
Better that,
than bouncing back
as problems I can't solve
Fears of loss
Are easier to toss
at structures that can handle the blow
No Echo
Of frustration or regret
No need to place a bet
On a world I will never know
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
I remember the fall
My life flashed through my mind
Years of confusion, in a second of time
I fired the King's horses
I fire the King's men
I finally managed, to climb up again
The wall is scary high
And my **** is still round
Yolk is leaking from my cracks
Running to the ground
I hope I can hang on
I know it's a gamble
But sunny side up
Is much better than scrambled
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 2:47 AM UTC
Pierced through
by so many spears of betrayal
His shadow appeared
as a moving constellation
Defined by street lamps
on the empty streets
He chose to walk
But,
There was always
more mass than misery
With hope lying,
in the darker contrasts
of his silhouette
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 2:31 AM UTC
Accepted clarity
Muddied only
By half-truths
Perceived as real
A contrived conscience
With volume control
Lowered by convenience
And narcissistic survival
The retail outlet
Of self-patted shoulders
Selling in real time
One's own significance
Safety in numbers
A comfort of thought
The inclusive community
Of light
Through fractured prisms
Individuality
Sought in the scope
Of a petri dish
Hopefully,
There be an artisan
Peering through the lens
An expert in restoration
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 7:21 AM UTC
All the young raison wanted,
was a drink of water
His mother sternly told him
" You get back to bed! ''
He shrank away from her discipline
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 7:54 AM UTC
Did you ever try to write a love poem
But no longer in love?
Write about a broken heart
And yours already mended?
Words and efforts
shallow as a mud puddle
Just as mucky as its bottom
Like my hippie buddies used to say
" It's not real,
unless it is,
man."
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 6:40 AM UTC
Some people have the knack
Of not slapping back
At edges, dark in demeanor
That lets some of us walk
After, just a brief talk
Feeling somehow cleaner
Intelligent
Unassuming
Not forcing
square pegs into round holes
A general appreciation
of the variety of souls
Different steps
Taken everyday
By everyone
But few can say
"I am not one to judge."
And live their lives in that way
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 3:11 AM UTC