the hallways are crowded.
people of all ages walk them.
the fight is instant.
and flesh hits flesh.
bruises the size of apples
appear on a small arm.
they see a small boy
but he is actually quite tall.
teachers step in.
they are hesitant to step in
even though they worry for the boy
inspired by the, "It Gets Better Project" Do not use or post my work without my explicit permission.
As you walk along this pavement
Walk where they cannot
See where they do not
Listen to what the know
Hear what came to sow
Send a little kiss
See where they cannot
Walk where they do not
Hear and come to know
Listen to what came to sow
To the girls of Cromwell
I find that fear
is just as delicate
It comes and goes.
Leaves an effect.
It is amazing their
abilities to conquer
They can change
I’ve dreamed I was falling asleep
And shaking myself to keep awake.
There’s only so much weirdness
And crap a poor dreamer can take.
It was all involved with friends you see
That I don’t see now, because they
Were stranger than my dreams
Or maybe I was. Back in the day.
I would be partying with them
And walking remembered streets
But I’d look around and everybody
Found other people to go meet.
Then suddenly the Hollywood
I knew and loved for twenty years
Became Kansas City boulevards
And Hollywood totally disappears.
Or maybe I’m coming home
At the end of a tiring long day
And look around, find myself
Saying, no way. No effing way;
This is not my apartment!
It’s fine, I kind of like the place
But someone is pulling a joke
The housekeeping is a disgrace.
Then someone would come in
Who I was supposed to know
And this chick is my roommate?
Oh, no. This woman has got to go.
But before I can get my head
Wrapped around standing up
My family is there too, cooking
Handing me a steaming hot cup.
Well,, now I can’t offend them
So, I sit my *** back down.
I don’t want to seem ungrateful
Like some unfunny kind of clown.
******, I leave to go for a walk
Thinking I am in Tucson but then
This is the Country Club Plaza
And I’m back in Kansas City again.
One time I was building something,
Under an expensive sort of contract
But none of the sub-contractors
Or the assistants knew how to act.
They were putting the thing together
Like a Rube Goldberg machine.
I was going ballistic on them all;
The ugliest thing I had ever seen.
These are the dreamworlds for me
On a regular, but often bizarre basis.
Streets change while walking
And people I know change their faces.
Or I am tasked to do something
Involving technology or looming mass
I end up getting no help at all
And wind up falling right on my ***.
I'll hide my lies
Behind my eyes
And cry when she flies
Through the vines
Looking for who she thinks I was
**Gone for good
Is a rather large
Group of mothers, criminals and
the forgotten victims
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I look at those across from me - searching distant seas.
I guess what they say is true. When a harmful breeze
we will all unite.
But yet when peace does come we search for a fight.
I know though that - no matter how good - corruption
will take root. Until destruction
turns good will into dust and hope into decay
And as we search these twisting allays
all we can say is pray....
but we will divide
because we all are fearful
and we will be cheerful
when the culprits are found
searching with trained bloodhounds
when it comes to hope
we'll pray with all our might
for their strength, families and fight
we will love for a moment each other
hand in hand with our brothers
*Pray for Paris
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