Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I don't practice voodoo,
sticking pins in dolls
& playing with snakes
ain't my thing.

Santeria is not what I do,
slaughtering chickens
& shaking up bones
is for ding-a-lings.

But take black magic,
now that's different,
it's boss,
I can cast a mean spell,
mix you up a nasty potion.
Thinking about it, Forrest was right, life IS like a box of chocolates.
you don't know what you're gonna get
I mean it's all part of the game
If I get a box of chocolates I know
exactly what I WANT to get
But on the odd occasion that someone beats me to the soft centres,
I just curse softly
and try another.
I may not enjoy it quite as much as a good strawberry cream
but at least I had a chocolate!
Some people get to the box and they're all gone.
Quick or sorry
I am bored and when I get bored my mind has strange thoughts. Spent a good long time just sat staring into space thinking about life as a box of chocolates. Seen the film so many times and never really got it till now. Am I alone?
A baby screams
above the drone
& strange odors circulate,
clicking & snapping,
a nervous laugh
here and there
a dry cough
& the catching of words,
parts of phrases
is all you can hear
from Seat 9A
above the engine.
 May 2014 BaileyBuckels
Tryst
TENOR:
        My love!
        My first bassoon!
        The one - who taught me loves sweet tune!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

TENOR:­
        My love!
        My sweet La Lune!
        She came - and then was lost so soon!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

SOPRANO­:
        My love!
        My great Maestro!
        The one - who taught me all I know!

TENOR:
        Why?
        Why did she go?
        Why did she - L..E..A..V..E... - M..E?

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

BARITON­E:
        My sweet La Lune! - She plays her tune
        Upon a shiny new bassoon!
        My sweet La Lune! - She plays for me
        Oh such ****** symphony!

{BRASS}
        OOM PAH PAH! - OOM PAH PAH!

TENOR:
        What's this?
        I spy La Lune?
        Blowing bassoon - a new c-o-n-d-u-c-t-o-r?
        His baton -
        She's sat upon!
        It seems she's found - a new i-n-s-t-r-u-c-t-o-r!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  G­ONE!

SOPRANO:
        My love!
        My new found love!
        How I adore - your o-r-c-h-e-s-t-r-a-t-i-o-n!
        And with -
        Your dextrous hands -
        You fill me with - a-n-t-i-c-i-p-a-t-i-o-n!

BARITONE:
        My love!
        My new found love!
        You light me up - a shining c-a-n-d-l-e!
        And with -
        Your dextrous lips -
        My baton loves - to feel your H-A-N-D-E-L!

{BRASS}
        OOM PAH PAH! - OOM PAH PAH!

TENOR:
        The end!
        The end is nigh!
        And they must die! - There's no denying!
        But how -
        To pay them back?
        For they deceived - me with there l-y-i-n-g!

CHORUS:
        The end!
        The end is nigh!
       And they must die! - There's no denying!

TENOR*:
        Upon my word - I will make them pay!
        Upon my word - they will die THIS DAY!      

{TRIANGLE}
        TING!

{CURTAINS CLOSE - END OF ACT 1}
I am afraid
I am alone
I am unknown
I am labelled

Labelled 'Damaged'
Did I damage myself?
No, fate did that
Can I atone?

Atone? For what?
A disease that differs for one and all.
I know what I am, but choose not to
take the moniker, 'sufferer'.

Yes, I hurt, I tire, I cry, but
I cannot explain, and you,
you cannot empathise, you
don't have MS, the broken smile.

I look whole, but I'm a jigsaw
with a missing piece. That piece is
peace. Peace of mind, peace for my
loved ones, peace for me.

I know I'm a person, I know I have MS
I know I'm loved, I know I'm a *****
I know I'm part of a family, daughter, sister,
aunt, niece, cousin and most importantly Wife.

I will be whatever the fates decide.
I will not be a sufferer.
I will not give up.
I will be loved.
© JLB
We know what we are, but not what we may be.
William Shakespeare
I cannot recall the moment
that sanity became a working goal.

Drugs are expensive,
sobriety; even more so.
Somewhere between all of this
I will have to learn to live.

The homeless are pushed out of town,
asleep beneath the railway bridge
that sends rain through rivets
like bullets.

I keep punching the clock
as it throttles Eros with slow hands.

“Sometimes just a smile is enough”
reads a cardboard placard.
But I have not cracked a smile
since I started popping these pills.
c
Day
(
     )
(      
\/
/\
/    \
/        \

Indian song

Walks with honor
Walks with dignity

( we walk together
We walk as one )



We escaped

We never listen to the lie

--

We only need to
Know

Smoke signals

••

The real power

••

Living in eachother

We are free

••

Indian song



We hear of AMERICA but do not heed
Next page