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Alan S Bailey Apr 2016
Would you attend a half-time funeral
Near the oak and pine branch at the cemetery,
Floral bouquet in hand, the last stand,
For the fool who dazzled in the light
Of dark, sorting through old newspapers,
Cigar in their mouth, unseen by such
That they remained happily in front of
Live TV watching the 7:00 news, amuse,
A vague smile, broken down besides
The window pane of a thousand tomorrows
Yet to come that never will. You will see them
All come, when they finally reach you at full
Speed, to end, to the same place you already
Arrived at in the light, and found the truth
Is not anything mystical or a fateful message,
It's ironically simple, life is simply life.
Alan S Bailey Apr 2016
No such thing as a past life...
Your past life is today. You woke up,
Went to your work, lived by your
Lot you sustain upon, and are then
Weary from your many partures this night.
Now to find rest and safe haven the green
Grasses await you, of your bed spread,
To rise again and greet life tomorrow,
The stumbling, the fogginess of waking
up once again awaits you, no longer dead.
Stupid poem...should get no more than 20 views tops
Alan S Bailey Apr 2016
From day to day, everyone seems to be a bit off,
Some sort of people seem to be the same,
All the time doing whatever is popular enough,
Looking for a political or religious symbol to blame.

It's not true to me, it doesn't have to be,
It can be true to you, I won't make you see
My light the way I must believe your god is true...

Me? I'm trying to make sense of all of this,
Why with one little prayer a man can be pure,
Somehow his imagination sent us to hell, we are fewer,
I tell you it's not right, and you label me an evil-doer.

A superstitious lot, aren't we all? Everywhere I go
I hear all of these people have saved us from hell,
From temptation in this boring, ******* up society,
I don't think they know how to make a change, a copy
Of a copy is still a copy, but me? I'm born to live free,
I can see, but I wouldn't give it up, even if I would be godly,
I would rather grow up to be the same old unique me...
Alan S Bailey Mar 2016
There are so many things wrong in this world,
If the constitution no longer has any effect on
The many kinds of laws that can be set in motion, can
We again vote against white/black marriage, for one?
Do you take the pieces of the puzzle and leave out
The ones that offend the common folk, even if it
Means forgetting about the right to the pursuit of
Happiness for ALL? Not just you and your "straight"
Drones who always do as their told?
We'll keep pretending that the rules don't apply,
If it's ruled unconstitutional, they'd still put it
Up for law, as if the constitution doesn't have
Or hold any sway on what is a decent choice for all.

Why not vote this country as appealing to the commoner,
Why not make it a place where only the rich are served,
Why not make cameras that fly and can remove any privacy,
Why not try and keep Mexicans and Muslims out again,
Why not bring guns and children closer, who cares,
Why not endorse psych drugs and throw caution to the wind,
Why not make bombs big enough to end the world.


This is the America we already know today...
Democracy>Constitution as far as you're concerned, admit it, Gop'ublicans!
Alan S Bailey Feb 2016
Every weekend at summer camp
Memories of the midnight walks we made,
The rushing of the silvery creeks
As well as the daily art and games,
Entertainment as well as molding clay,
The mountainside at night gave good
Presence, the moon offering her halo,
With the memory of endless essence so,
During this time of adventurous fun,
A story telling we campers would all go.

Her raspy voice, I can remember well,
Those cute sparkly playful brown eyes,
We walked side by side, she told me that
The truth was being denied, she was a
Girl in disguise, how I dream of her
In Garnet, Capricorn. That feeling of total trust,
Now I will probably never be close to
Anyone I love again, already grown old,
To old to ever dream, but what a dream,
A lovely bliss to know that she was my friend.

One day, when the time is right, we'll find it,
This feeling again, of wild spirited joy, campfires,
Of following the forest path, now innocence lost,
A time that is long-gone and past, and if it
Never happens again, the darkness of night
With quiet whispering, story time moon light,
I will never forget her, never will I forget that
Beautiful freckled face, those beady eyes,

*No, never forget you, not for all time.
Alan S Bailey Feb 2016
If it is not a popular dream, they will dispose of it.
About the only thing this country has ever proven,
Is that on their best days they are about this:
A straight couple, with children, sitting in a
"Brady" home with their girls play with dolls,
Boys play with toy soldiers and football,
This is it, everyone!
The death of the Progressive Era, may we all become drones,
In the best known words of the Borg in Star Trek, Next Generation:

"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE..."

And we'll all be assimilated.
Prepare to be re-assimilated into society...!!!
What joy...NOT

Unless someone stops these sickos from further dampening what little hope the minority communities have ever had in years...
Alan S Bailey Feb 2016
What is sharing? Abraham Lincoln said "Sharing is Caring..."
What is it though?

*I want to share my dreams with others,
I want to share this wild world with them,
I want to be a part of the natural goodness,
I want to find truth in solutions, not problems,
I want to avoid being part of a cult,
I want to avoid the haters, graffiti and gangs,
I want to achieve higher goals than laymen,
I want to be something different, not insane,
I want to have an uncommon interest,
I want it to be one not necessarily having to be
That of religion, destruction, politics or guns,
I want others to believe something different,
I want us all to be able to share honest, simple love.
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