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Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
Your voice echoes in the halls of my mind,
Fills them with a few sweet memories
Just enough to get by until the day I die,
A vague impression that at least someone
Had love that I could seek or find the vine.

But in the end we'll all be in the room,
Standing before the alter, right? Judged.
Some sort of ideal of someone who is
Angry at the world and wants them
To get what's coming to them, no way
To break this cycle with patient time to lend.

Bitter sweet this whine, it grasps at straws,
Seeps its way into our hearts and minds
Where it finds there is someone divine,
That which we must all face his wraith,
"He'll" be the one, this God, his kingdom vast,
To fill our world with firey pain if we all
Don't confess and repent again and again.

No, I'm not here to argue that a God can't exist,*
Or tell you that no one made this world,
That we can't find ourselves in a better place to live,
All I'm saying is that if there were such a person,
Someone behind the mask who made all of this,
They'd certainly not be here to seek so much
A way to make us to pay for every wrong we ever did!
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
At every turn
You all blow my mind,
Why is this so?
Are the cloudy shapes a sign?
Where do you all get off
Taking my best wit, my best
Arguments, and flush them
Down the tube like it had
Absolutely nothing it meant?

Besides pushing me off
A balcony when I'm sad,
I may as well have the joy
In knowing that I'm here,
But just a fool who's only mad.

My final moments could be
A painful one, I've lost my
Friends, there is no lover in
My life, this wasted time I
Spend, I'll rather my work
Is never done then find myself
At these horrific bitter ends.
1 view a minute. Good to see that "someone cares..."
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
I write poems because it fills my world with stuff,
Stuff that originated from someone who inspired me,
That inspiration makes me feel this is enough,
Enough to be the one who with a pen can set rhymes free,
I find poetry gets famous as long as the writer isn't me.

It's just a thing I've noticed, this word or that one,
Bouncing off of the walls, filling the world with
Fighting, or maybe scrolling blankness in the halls.

It will all develop somehow, this poetic pointless tail,
Maybe I'll be famous, but we all know the truth as well.
I'll just go down in misery-not history-as being "someone,"
A starving poet, a musician, just another stupid useless ***.
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
Love, what is it?
Is love a post card? Is love a fast food workers smile?
Is love a diamond ring? Is love being famous for miles and miles?
Is love candy on the counter? A dozen thorn-less roses?
Is love the camera for which everyone poses?
Is love owning a car and working all day?
Is love a pack of cards and a slot machine to play?

But what is it?*
Or why don't we all admit it, love is being the
Person who will stick with you even if you're gay,
Even if you have no technology, or you're only creatively gifted,
Maybe even a little eccentric, or not quite religiously inclined,
Love is what the honest heart, the birds and the bees,
What natural affection always had in mind.
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
The pretty devil,
Dressed well,
Full pouting lips,
Cheap perfume smell,
Gets you every time,
All you need
Is to play divine,
Living in your own world,
Boys worship every step,
Although your striped stockings
Seem as if they'll curl.
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
Live life "without pain,"
Until you can no longer hold
It all back, keep it all inside,
Hide in the dark of night.

Live life "without pain,"
Show only half your face,
No one sees you're hurting
Until you've made them cry.
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
Live each day as though it were your last,
That's a good advice to take,
Too bad I'm still fixing up my past,
The miles I've got to go, all that's at stake.

Sound advice, a troubled life.

And your face, is it really you?
You see, I've met dozens in my
Life who seem legitimate friends,
But most of them all turn out the
Same, eccentric hating, self centered,
Abusive hypocrites and liars to the end.

Sound advice, a troubled life.

Why did I not take their advice?
I could make ends meet if I had a wife,
Don't know why I have to live in spite,
Did I ever say I wanted marriage in my life?*

Sound advice, a troubled life.
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