thoughts hang around my head like an itch that won't go away
       and they're *making me scratch my brains out

I never much cared for
the weight of my body
crashing on top of tired
feet and clumsy knees.
I prefer the more intense pain:
muscle fibers ripping to bits
and tired limbs collapsing
under pressure. It feels
more natural that way...
a mirror of how my life
was before I put myself
together again.

Lives
Are problematic
Only
If we seek
Resolutions.

Step by step one step at a time
One by one, one step at a time
Whether you are climbing up a flight of stairs
Even while climing down a flight of stairs
Always better to keep in mind and also follow the same
Always take one step at a time.

Decide first what needs to be done and then decide what needs to be done to get done what's decided first.
Definitely priorities come first
So always better to start with the topmost priority,
followed by the next and then so on and so forth.

Nature of things definitely matter, but what matters more is how to get the things done.
Keeping this in mind and with this as an aim,
it's always better to set priorities and follow the same.
Always better to take one step at a time, followed by the next and then move on further.

Dead soldiers can’t march.
They can’t hear your lies.
They can’t hear their buddies
Or their agonizing cries.
The politicians lie so smoothly
Some dreams are so lifelike
And the lies are said so truthfully
That some life seems dreamlike.

Dead soldiers are not the ones,
The ones out looking for war.
They, above everyone else,
Know exactly what war is for.
Congress keep swords sharpened
Year after hypocritical year.
Don’t let it happen again
Don’t let it happen here.

Dead soldiers can’t hear you
When you pray to the crowd.
They can’t hear the platitudes
No matter how florid and loud.
They are beyond your excuses
And they never really mattered.
People in power are safe far away
From where all the blood is splattered.

Dead soldiers can’t hug their kids
Or kiss their wives in the morning.
No more time exists for them
It ended with little warning.
They did what they were told to do
With no mutinous thought in their head.
They were obedient and loyal
And now they are quietly dead.

Congress keep swords sharpened
Year after hypocritical year.
Don’t let it happen again
Don’t let it happen here.

He’s like a ham actor
Who has only one goal
To see himself in
The starring role.
Talent doesn’t matter
As long as he is zealous.
If he bombs it’s because
Everyone else is jealous.

He goes flap, flap his yap
But be careful, it’s a trap.
He loves to holler up a storm.
But has no talent to perform.

He thinks he is a superstar
Just waiting to be crowned.
Others say behind his back
He’s nothing but a clown.
All he needs is a big red nose
And he’s working ******* that.
He thinks he’s the big ****,
But really, he’s just a pratt.

He goes moan, moan and groan
But leave him totally alone
And while he swears he is fine
He will fail to remember his lines.

All the world is a stage, it’s true
So politics is like theater, too.
And this poor clown with big feet
Tries to deliver his speeches sweet
But his lies trip him in the last scene.
He ends up looking false and mean.

He lies and lies his lullabies
And tries to act so famously wise.
But he only fools the less than bright.
The rest know he’s just not right.

I want to go back
To Crackerjacks
And KoolAid on ice.
Ice cream sandwiches
And Chick O Stick candy.
That would be so nice.
Double feature matinees
At the local movie show
With cartoons in between.
Car crashes and then the
Cliff hanger serials
Were the best we’d ever seen.

Things like snow days, and
Skinny dipping swimming holes
Great on hot summer days.
And matchbook motors
On the spokes of our bikes
After school every day.
Snow cones and soda pop
Then we turned in the bottles
For two pennies to by sweets.
Snowball forts in the winter time
That were serious business
On every neighborhood street.

Things were so simple then
We each had a list of what
We wanted Santa to bring.
Some wanted ritzy stuff
And others only wanted
A **** Tracy decoder ring.
Life was almost all about
Going to school and then
Waiting for classes to let out.
And though there are joys
For grown girls and boys
It felt good to run and shout!

I bet you wouldn't put those tattoos on your gravestone

Not that's it's any of my business,
But you look like an idiot,

And I heard you say that girls name and it ain't the same as the one on your neck as your necking today,

Is it mate,

And I don't mean to come across boring,
But I'm sure your mothers name ain't Tory either.

Necks covered in angel wings,
and misdemeanours;
I hope there's someone watching over you to see you make those mistakes.

It looks pretty cool though - make no mistakes.

But I can see through your thick rimmed spectacles.

Making a spectacle of yourself when you can clearly see.

A small package bugling through your skinny jeans
And of course Dr Martens,

And a quiff that's bleached.

Farewell flower child,
Don't look so amazed and glare,
When people stare at you and your down right ridiculous tattoos,

On the platform after me that's a par for you,

I was only passing through,
With naked skin,
Untouched by ink.

You would think I didn't want to leave a mark in this world were in.