Please, excuse my son, he's not old enough and
He hasn't matured yet just because of his age alone,
Excuse his inability to care about you, "getting ******,"
Excuse his "excessive" interest in girls and pleasure,
Excuse the fact that you even had to hear him speak up,
Excuse the instability in his daily life, it's his fault,
Excuse me for even bothering with him ever!*
I love to hate my son!

Your windbreaker holds back all of the rain that flows
Only seconds away from the curb where you stand,
Puddles distant near and far are the result from the
Violent storm at hand. I'll try to somehow understand.

Your hand stretches outward as if to beckon, but instead
You stick your finger up and let me know how you
"Really feel," but I'm always at your mercy, your dark
Brown eyes hold me in a somewhat helpless-make me reel.

If there was a way to go back to that time and find you there,
What I wouldn't give to tell you how you made me feel.
A lady knows when she's found her love, and there's no way
Without you I'll ever get bye when push comes to shove.

Live in the dark, sharpen the steel,
Play the charade, mould of grey clay,
The bump in the night fills you with fright,
Indulgence in the air? Make the "sinful" care.
Vacuum the world, the big flag unfurled,
Bump in the night,  neighbour takes flight,
Pollution in the air? No one seems to care.
Slow work to get by, free lunch for the fat guy,
Masterful touch, the poor "lazy guy's" on the crutch,
A place they can afford to stay if you think they're OK.

So we're all free, eh? If you start thinking outside the box,
Going against societies grain, then you are snuffed out,
Never heard from again. You can "whine and moan" all you want,
But you'll soon be cancelled out, bad manners are a fine reason
To throw you into the frenzied crowd.

Freedumbs indeed

Your days of voicing your thoughts are through, they've "solved
Everything" by letting laws even go into motion that simple sanity
Can disprove. These laws they always pass, your voice is never heard,
Democracy manifest's evil will soon turn your life over to the birds.

The parasite that bites, that always bites in the night,
The parasite that does so fright, it bites who it will, whoever it might,
The teeth so sharp the tongue that hangs, it ***** and ***** and *****
Again. It's the parasite that bites, tasty thrills are it's delight,
The eyes that blink the watering mouth, the open lips,
You are the one the parasite decided was the best to pick,
Salivating and drooling, it just can's wait for it's turn to take a lick!
It's all about when you've gone to sleep, they go to work,
They feed and feed you're all they need, you'll do quite well...

And all the while you are supposedly evil and you're going to hell!

Religious discrimination sells, it's all the rage!
If a Muslim wants office, we automatically get
Suspicious, some pandering to the public's fear,
Deny our own constitutional laws and values,
And never elect a Muslim whether far or near.

I used to write for a reason
Now I just write to strew useless words
Information no one will probably ever
Read, my voice never again ever heard.

She hangs upon the ladder, looking out on all of her glorious creations,
This sun that beats down upon her, she cringes at the pain of it,
Stinging sweat slides all along the sides of her face of newborn nation
Grand things she has promised, although she would build a monument
To honour the dead who fought valiantly to protect their land,
Their new found supposed right to enslave.
And also don't forget their brave new world of uneducated
******, all-in-the family goodness, "un-needed" liberation of
Innocent blacks. Those unlawful ne'er do wells! She would fight
To keep them all to herself and her bidding, even to the grave!

*While in truth they have not committed any absolute crimes,
Like their ancestors-nor any reason why they are doing hard time.

Bite the hand*

You will be behind me, or
Even in front if you like
I wont call you anything,
Or if that is you want me to,
I will call you everything.
Whatever you say,
I will lie here in a pool
of rampant madness, decay,
You shall be my "soul's" leader,
You will tell me when I'm "good,"
Or if I am insane, I won't complain,
I will be your tool, your stool,
I will not shun you if that's ever
Even been possible, you will be free
To ram your religious and political
Ideals down into my mind whether I
Believe or not, or they will "save
You," and take me away in locks.

There was a poet that people would find old
Boring and Stupid...then along came some up
And running smooth poet with all the sharp skills,
Namely-anyone but me. The finest poem by quill.

There was once a poem that people used to love,
But then it got old so they dreamed of a better poem,
One that everyone could find popular and entertaining,
Because the past-due poet was just old news, it was known.

But none could escape the perfection of the brand new poet,
Their poems were so great and it took only a few lines,
He'd have blown your mind and you wouldn't even know it,
The old fashioned poet, this hamlet, this macbeth, just wines.

I at one time had this "unimportant"
Thing called "friends,"
We used to play and run about,
Nowadays it's jut a waste of time,
Don't even have a clue where to find "my crowd,"
I'm just another face in the crowd, oh joy.
I'd probably get left behind anyway,
It's how people are these days,
Don't know if you'll come out to play,
But then again who cares, it's 'cause I'm "gay!"
No matter what it's all my fault, I'm to blame,
So now my life will be a waste, I'll never be the same,
But at least I still have my health and the joy of being
A complete and total "human pain!"

This a "plain simple summer weekend,"
A vastness of terrain awaits us here,
Clean skies and cool breezes send
An unending limitless blue so clear,

This is it, the mountain spring and pine,
One lost lover, through thick and thin over
The years and never forget this moment,
The land only belonging to the great mother.

Like a forbidden island of delights it awaits,
Valley and fields and palm trees, streams,
Into hidden forests and meadows, our new beginning,
Forever...! Through all the years light now dimming,

But it's just the same, light and dark...everything disposable
Accept this image I have of you holding onto me, the spark,
It seems now we are all this pose-able, like some kids toys,
Not interested to take a walk past the rush, even if it's a safe park.

Love now lost, why? Just to be cast on the rocks of tomorrow,
It does seem that death started with something of sorrow,
It does seem everyone is addicted to the next big craze,
Save your pretty penny for the rainy day, sunless haze.

It's all about you, even when it's really about me, I'll make
Everything change, I promise, give this art a chance it makes
Perfect sense if you care to pretend my pointlessness matters,
If I sat there and served everyone, a security guard, car salesman,
I would matter, but no, I'm worthless because I hate those things
I would rather  die than carry on being a waste for not liking
These %#@#$@ jobs that they keep shoving in my face!

As I glance at the stop sign one last time,

*BASH...the cars tires still spinning...

Sour sweet the taste of bitterness and pain,
What's left of this world, what winds up
Floating down the stream into a drain,
It's man-made perfection-so they say,
They take time and effort filling this world
With so much light, they would be
As if the ones who could defeat death
If but with the brightest bulbs, they'll fight!

But actually in the end there is no way
To cure the common coldness of pain,
Of death, why to attempt would be insane,
I should give in to this lunacy anyway...?
Aren't we a busy bunch? We make for
A strange and power-hungry sight,
The only way off this old earthen rock
Is to find acceptance of deaths plight.

I'm surrounded by the feeling of doom,
This is only the beginning of the pain!
My life a mere part of this game,
Visible at every turn, feel I'm being followed,
Feel death is watching me, every single day,
It's violent, my stomach, dry mouth-I swallow,
Every thing will wind up going down the drain.

It's only a matter of time...

Years ago I used to think it was a value...
Not to swear in front of "grandma,"
Be clean cut and tidy all the time,
Follow all the rules, straight A's at school,

Buuuuut...when I got older...

Ooooops! Said a swear word, a sprinkle of donut
Over my fat belly, the world on the blink
Is dragging me under one cell at a time,
Toward my eventual demise, so I can drink
Coffee and just wait for everything to stop,
It's like we're all being stalked by death,
I'm really feeling dizzy,
This cold scentless style-free flat linen bed,
Then I breath until I know I no longer can.
The lamp dims, the hospital spinning.

I was not aware of what "is in store,"
When is an art not unlike a tool?
If it can be used for nothing what then?
Is it a toy for plain simple fools?

"This is my logic, hear me now!"
I yell at empty skies so pale,
Let there be an answer for once,
This rhetorical question growing stale,
I ask "Why am I here? To make an impact?"
What then is this to ask when no one
Answers back? My plan for the next day:
To eat peanut butter sandwiches like new,
To hear the sound of my own mind from the blue,

Own mind: OF COURSE!!!

Forget it, I've thrown my hand...it's clear now you all
Think I'm the devil, till the end my reputation marred,
This will be the way of it, to be left looking so hysterical,
All I'm asking for the last time is this simple question:

**Where did I go so wrong trying to do the right thing...?
Is loneliness the end result of not wanting to fit in by
Drinking, smoking and/or popular religious cults etc. etc.?

Spoof song: sung to the tune of Five For Fighting's "Superman"

Kermit
I can't stand when high,
I'm not that naive,
I'm just out to find the better part of green,
I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a bear,
I'm more than some frog in piggies underwear
And it's not easy to  be  green...

Wish that I was high,
****** and half asleep,
Find a way to lie about my jones on Sesame Street
It may sound absurd-but don't be naive,
Even Muppets can smoke too much green,
I may be disturbed but wont you concede,
Even Muppets croak upon skunk ****,
And it's not easy to  be  green...

Once again I'm small-I'm small and green, well it's
All right, we can all get stoked tonight, and I'm not
Blazing...or anything...

I can't stand when high,
I'm not that naive,
Drugs just get you fried,
On hash and buzzed on ****
I'm only a frog on Jim Henson's knee
Wearing pink lingerie on this one way street,
Only a frog on Jim Henson's knee
Looking for older guys who flirt with me,
Yea flirt with me...who flirt with me, yea who flirt with me...
WHO FLIRT WITH ME...
I'm only a frog that's diggin' the green,
I'm only a frog on Kronik 7 Leaves
I'm only a frog who's puffin' on green
AND IT'S NOT EASY...  wooohooohoooo...
It's not easy...to be-he...greeeeeen...

If I look back, there is always something so close.
It's a cough, a bug, decay, it's the essence of a ghost,
It follows quite near, year by year, the more I ignore it,
The closer it gets. When I go to sleep at night my dreams,
They seem to vividly remind me of this following "thing,"
The proverbial "monkey on the shoulders," It's quite
Like something that starts out soft, and gets to be mean.

If I look back, there it is again, this thing that follows so close,
If I listened to you, I'd decide not to bother with it but just
Throw myself into this daily routine, this job that we "must do,"
I could ignore it and let it build up, like an itch I simply wont
Scratch, I could pretend it's a mirage, a cloud out-of-the blue.
But do I ignore it?  

No,  instead...

It becomes my inspiration...the reason I don't care any more about
Your endlessly building needs or concerns.  
YES  I know you hurt, "you'll die first!"
If I don't reach you in time  I WILL  **be "sorry I forgot your pain!"
While I reach behind my own back and rub my own troubles away...

If we went any "gayer" I would be **** free.
Peace, put down your guns and stop firing,
k, make more luv not war! Let it be, let it be...*

Why is it that when there is a war
Everyone has to run and join?
I guess this doesn't sound right,
Perhaps I'm just going blind?

Where is Uncle Sam when I'm mugged
Running through an alley for my life?
Where is the honest soldier when these
Drunk military "saints" just hit their wives?

I am always here, my heart is just the same,
I know there is always war, but why can't
We at least try to make a change?
Just because it's always been, doesn't mean
It must always and forever remain!
How are you military guys so sure
That you're part of the cure, not the pain?

If you want recognition, buy it!
Wow, I guess all of my poems are going to
"****" from here on, but I will still "post them"
Anyway, because they are worthy of their own existence,
And I've got nothing against writing my feelings,
Real fame is brought about by skill, not monetary expense.

Ahh...the smell of "sweet success,"

Dressed up in bundles of bows,
Point out all of your "faults" and drill the teeth, braces on for years,
It'll make the "biggest difference," you'll be what you're "meant to be,"
Shove these roll models in your face, it's all about these prudent fears,
We've gotta follow suit, be moulded, from day to day, months, years,
Follow the path well followed until you're the "best" at this old game,
It'll be such a sorry path if you choose eccentrics-what *you dream?

**What a shame!

Daddy has his "toys" still, he keeps them in good condition,
His sentimental joys or whatever he may want to "need,"
His toy car, his toy planes, his toy guns and ammunition,
And can you sense them? Millions of them, spinning at full speed,
At thousands of miles an hour, drilling to make the oil  bleed,
Just to make these toys be everything we'll ever know or see.

These "handy helpers" help themselves to all of their toys,
Vaguely I feel quite amused, they've given us everything?
So to speak they've "protected us," blown up and destroyed,
These things have clothed our bodies-whether or not-it's "free,"
And every day these are our "heroes," our micro-manage "masters,"
The ones who made this world the way it is so they can all succeed.

So I ask you this, did it ever occur to anyone here this is just a game?
That I never asked for any of this, never signed up to keep on playing,
But still we're all a ****** lot to ask for less, we're all insane,
Sorry! I just can't help it, I'm not just the one for living in this craze,
I'd rather have the other world, this one of golden sun and sand,
Of warmth and freedom to explore, rather then work for my old man.

You put me in your hair,
twirl me with your fingers
the wind blows me here to there
so you put me on your sneakers.
I'm purple and pink, perfect punk'
upon your forest, atop tree trunk
I always am with you when you leave
and run around the school house trees.
We'll forever remember the rushing air
but we must have lost balance and crashed
the warmth and sun that glinted isn't there
*but still get up again, it's time for class!

If I had a dime for every time I've been judged,
I'd be richer than a king.
If I had a penny for every time I lost my dreams,
I'd buy a diamond ring.

In this desolate place of lovers lost
I can be the one who "isn't in need,"
When there is a "way to uncover"
The ones always on the silver screen.

I can be...
A person who you can trust.
I can be...
A beautiful "devil of lies,"
I can be...
A loner who only fantasized
I can be...
A musician who makes music fly
I can be...
A playful lover with so much life.

But here they found them,
These marriages of "perfect love,"
We live in your hopeful world
We eat your "good cooking"
We sit in your expensive shade
We hear your "creative" music
We  repent for our "faults so grave"

I can be whatever I will,
But I will never be the one
Who ever had a dream that
Can ever be fulfilled...

A place forever forgotten, the fresh rain on the grass of green,
Behind a backdrop of hills with the various dark dots of trees,
Before when rivers turned into waterfalls cascading down cliffs,
Rocky terrain and sandy beaches, lagoons, a backdrop of prairies,
The surge like a smooth endless steady roar, like a pulse, a rush,
Flowing through the earth's veins, becoming streams near where
We all used to camp out,  this life force, a flow that sustained us.
The middle of all greys and shades of blue in the skies, soft breeze,
A white golden sun streaming down gentle rays of natural life,
The laughter, the peace gone, but that's the price of our dream.

So what if they smoke ***? So what if they are different?
I love hippies, I respect them. It's just my way of seeing things.
It's not going to help to build walls, every bump in the road,
If you do score some ****** madness, you may ignore this message,
I will love you just the same! But of course I'm there down below,
Filthy with the animals, you look down on me and shame,
You're quite the "pure hearted" one for which we all must change,
So if I were like you-which by now I should already be-I'll take a puff
Of hippy kindness so my breath wont make you have to leave.

I
had something on my mind
I
guess it really doesn't matter anyway
I
was unable to get my point across

You
stand there slack jawed with all the answers
You
bathe yourself in fairies tears to recover from my words
You
are popular and "open minded" so you win I guess

OF COURSE

They
will never take my side
They
are on every block praising you
They
are also in charge and can burn me so bad

**How quaint...

Didn't catch something like a halo hidden in the dusty clouds?
A well described place, this "heaven," you search for as in vain,
Perhaps like a modern pirate with a compass which faces due south,
They'll find what they seek, even if it means innocent life is slain.

This is it, patriots! Trashed ghetto awaits in the biggest cities,
Out of site out of mind! I will STILL find my peace of the pie,
Richer dreams we seek in the earth, to hold and have, so pretty,
For now-at the cost of anything-it's our "innocent" man-made right.

But all of this commotion that brings so much confusion,
We'll see clearly what is considered to be conceived as a blessing,
A miracle of speaking, this way of making awkward confession,
It seems to make us feel better to find a sign, it must be missing.

X marks the spot! "We've found out" that it's hidden in the dunes,
Beneath the limitless dusty despair there will come an answer,
In time we'll make it to this place just not far beyond all moons,*
Even if it takes living a life-like lie that's a deadly nightmare cancer.

I am a dog, I am naked and alone.
I'm not the only one.
This is it, my expensive 11 square feet
I like to call my empty home.
I guess there's something to be said
For this "stupid dog" who will never *EVER
Get to "see anyone" real but might just get
The lucky joy of being ******!

I have everything I need, or so I'm told,
We get by being just another girl or guy,
Make the most of this without eccentric goals,
Give me a break, this is what I "need" in life.
The truth is we're all about making a scene
When I finally get to live my "dangerous" dream,
This place has food and shelter and "life,"
Sure we've got it made, this way of life is obscene,
One way or another while I wonder about "it,"
These "insane" feelings of nature just never quit,
When the time comes I'll magically find the "right place,"
But until then who knows if my dream is a streaking bet,
Don't even bother going naked, I'm already just a "disgrace,"
You "Go Army" and die, my basic needs are all too well met,
But along with these words are the reasons I wont move just yet.

I had my ten seconds of fame,
Underneath the low hanging vine
Of a wire, that was my calling anyway,
To be one who had the guts to inspire
Others with dangerous games and tricks,
Risk others lives in the name of getting kicks!
Skateboard in hand, rockets flying, grand stands,
Kartwheels, I'm just a teen boy without hair,
Why should you all act like you care?
Into this black hole lifestyle of mine,
I could never give up or dare to quit,
But hey, it wouldn't be "my life," would it?

He stood with his face to the firey blaze,
The background sooty and ashy,
He told her "everything was alright, it's okay."
Violent flames lashing and smoke wisps vanishing,
It's just that...every second leads to something,
A cough, a rash...a blank wall...then some monitors,
Then you're dead, it's the same thing every time,
So why not live for good? Why not breath the air
Like you've never gotten the chance to know how,
To run like children into the woods...

*...or you're dead already.

Why do I even bother? The world is full of stupid lies,
Write this silly trash and it becomes another waste of time,
Perhaps someone will notice, of course nobody ever does,
It's just that we're ALL losers until we've "flown like the gods,"
This will be my last poem, I always promise myself it must be,
But eventually I cave and waste my time on another rhyme,
Fill the world with more useless verse that no one will ever read.

Tonight, I put my best foot forward and failed,
My poetic flop, who cares, I guess it's better
To get 6 views in 17 minutes than 19 views in 15 seconds,
But who cares? No one is on right?
So what if I stink more the better I write?

In my dreams it always begins the same,
I hear them, I feel like they are distant,
A soft voice speaks to me...whispers unknown.
It's like this place I see will vanish in an instant,
Like a mirage, a disappearing rainbow...
The other side seems so real, from another perspective,
There is this person who is answering me
In my dreams, foggy twilight everywhere...I climbed
Up high and saw the stars sparkling like diamonds
In the sky, then a vampire who seems familiar starts
To climb higher and higher...to find me, then he
Approaches and I push him away-only a fake dream,
There's no stopping me, I'm flying free, floating,
As on wings. So many spectacular things*
Then I wake up and all I can see,
All that is there is empty darkness, I can't fly,
Some waiting until I die, some day they will put out
My light and these amazing things that I dream at night.