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  Apr 2014 Cliffy Buglione
Poppi Mae
Like the waves and the sand,
There's always something to fall on.
Cliffy Buglione Apr 2014
It's a distance from me
Sheffield - City of industry
Where my friend alights to be
Lizzy Boo Green
Queen of my scene
The perpetual adjective that smiles
Like a teenager
             in a disco
Or a burning go-go.

-----

Primary a target of my wishes
That curl friendship in a scribbled
                                  slowhand
            ­                    Back and forth
                       To indirect overdrive
Where a thousand exits greet you with fire
And say welcome
Where we probably will never meet
Seperated by forests, buildings and miles of cold
                                    concrete.

-----

If I allowed my candle to burn down
Then tame a buick's wanderings into nature's
                                             blind spot
Then I am no poet
I hold my friendship like a trophy, high
No contact, No coffee, But we share the same sky.

-----

My pledge is to write my verse
A gift stolen be a loved cat,
So here is my rotting composure
I have one golden friend, Whose fretted blue lights
Are visualising something else.
As change haunts the bellringer, The only sound of life
Is deafening bells.

-----

A frail yet stunning femininity masked by
Accumulative beauty
The description holds general putativity
                                   in a broken cup
As it flows into the sewers of of my persona
And tho we will never share
A cobblestoned journey into the opposites that
           collide into seperate genders
It is only my years that say goodbye to that today
I lost my younger years in the afternoon of yesterday.

-----

2 Friends heading into infinity
But without a compass to map direction
Only 1 of us is courting perfection
And I am sorry to say in my selfish unit
That it isn't me,
I'm only a word that's free.

-----

Freedom is so entwined by *******
Tho I'm not concerned with that,
I am blessed from where I am sat
I am, perhaps too old to understand
What cradles  friendship between a young girl and
                                              an ageing man-
A beautiful wide-eyed energy from Elysium, Our Lizzy
Which leaves me nothing inside nothing more
Other than a single image worth living for.
Cliffy Buglione Apr 2014
I'm out in the morning debris
I got my pistol wid me
The sky cries like a child
The sun is bright and wild -
And there is color everywhere
To be honest life is fair
But that doesn't bring too much joy
To a lunatic child holding
A broken toy.

I'm out in the morning debris
Waiting for the people to come and save me
A vortex ***** at my presence
The air rocks my essence
And for the day I'd exchange my pain
In the mirror of karmatic blame
Of my tropical angel.

You move on the delicacy of your smile
Forever sunny, your blue skies
And you greet your memories
With a summer afternoon
As I toil thru the darkness
And feel so alone
And afraid
Day after day
I fall into things and places
I'd rather not display.

I don't want to cause you displeasure
So I'll just say-
I'm okay now.   You see, I'm okay
Cliffy Buglione Apr 2014
Lazer *******
Got me spilling my blood
Onto the messiah.

Lazer *******
Got me lick sphere on
The ghetto miscarriage.

When the well of your libido
Becomes the price you live for
There is no turning back
You have reached your exit.

Lazer *******
Got me dying in the underground
dressed as the leather
God.

Lazer *******
I owe nothing to Jesus Christ
So I will ******* until my own
Crucifixion

When your life and your memores
Are bartered for one minute of heat
And you keep wondering how they heard about it
                                         In the church
                                         On the street

When the 'roaches speed in the ****** of your soul
You are thrown down and wasted
In torment.

Lazer *******
Selling faster than equinox
Justice melts in pig money
From Bermuda
And if art must wear
The recline against life
Then it is truly wondrous.
Cliffy Buglione Apr 2014
I'm floating down a one- horse town
I drink my whisky like a catfish mama
                                           catfish mama
It's a long way home
And I'm not talkin' distance.............
Cliffy Buglione Apr 2014
Most of the people in my story
Have disappeared
into a far away mist
There are only a few I can say
I genuinely miss.
One in particular
That I wouldn't if I could
Because altho paradise has faded
She is the thing which made paradise good.

Decades have passed and I still
                                 drag my cross
                                   Thru the quicksand
Dreaming of when it was held high
                                  in the clear sky
By Wendy Ann

Too many people invited into our life
                           Took away what life is
Too many people hearing too many secrets
To socialise with
Too many displays of vulnerabilities
(Or is that too many self-protecting excuses?)

Most of my life I've pretended to accept things
\but memories hold too many tombs
                                  Of relationships blending over
                                     To loss of dreams.

I'll never return to Utopia
However, I experienced it so intimately
I can rotate fiction to fact
But I wouldn't believe that
If a miserable monument of pain
Sold me it.
Cliffy Buglione Apr 2014
Money grows on trees
But sometimes
The ground gets dry
And there is nothing to spend
Except what you buy.

Money grows on trees
It surrounds them
Tenners underneath the leaves
Of what a fool believes.

Money is easy to get
But so hard to get
Buy, sell or let
Every purchase is a bet.

Money ain't love
But we all love money
And we'll join the revolution
once it's revolved
And we are the problem
The revolution must solve.
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