If I ever had the power to do something
Would that I had got rid of my own shade

We can break bread or stand and make threats.
Man we can grab the cannons, blast and face death.
When this is all over you'll have half a face left.
For the rest of your life with a limp, you'll take steps.
I could end this rhyme right now and save breathe,
but I haven't said all I've got to say yet.
You ain't a killer you a dog, now just go and play fetch.
You a coward and a liar Fido, run off and play dead.
The wolves'll ******* find you we don't often stay penned;
all the **** you've been talking will see you pay debts.
You won't find time to scream "mama this is the end!"
When I get my hands on you and open your head.

Am I the only one you follow home
From the subway late at night,
As the street lights form my shadow,
Hours before the morning light?

My briefcase, though it’s leather
Is empty. And it’s old.
Once, long months and years ago
It may have carried gold,

But I’ve thrown it all away
As I’ve gambled ‘way my soul,
You are stalking just a shadow man;
I cannot make you whole.

I can tell you stories,
Some are lies and some are true
I’ve no intent of malice,
It’s just a thing that poets do.

Turn an ordinary circumstance
Into song for all to read,
Sometimes the song cuts close to home
Causes heart to ache or bleed.

When a poem causes reader tears
The poet also cries,
For the pain that wounds the reader’s heart
Is real in poet’s eyes.
Phil Lindsey  5/28/15

To be means to find something                                                                               You need it urgently anytime ...                                                                              To be not means you miss something and                                                             You keep looking for it ...                                                                                        To be or not to be ,                                                                                                    That's the matter ...                                                                                                   Our current world is not an ideal world                                                                For most of us                                                                                                           Simply because we all lack the minimum things                                                  That we need in our daily and basic life ,so                                                                I am keeping looking for an ideal world endlessly ...

What could I write you
That would make up for this time
For the words I threw
And the women I ******

I'm not sorry but that's a lie
I'm sorry every day that you aren't here
Sorry it was easier to give up than try
I'm sorry life happened this way

I've proven that I could give myself to others
Making an attempt at bliss
But it's never been the same
Something's always been amiss

What could I write you
I wonder as I sit, sighing
I don't know
But I'll never stop trying

Her voice is carried and is conveyed                                                                       Over a pretty cloud                                                                                                  That crosses into unknown worlds ...                                                                    I  feel that thing                                                                                                        Simply I heard that voice                                                                                       When she came to our life                                                                                    For the first time ...                                                                                                  Her voice dwells in my mind and                                                                           In my heart for ever and ever ...

Hi
Come on
OK
Thank you
See you
Good Bye

and perhaps
I can't do that

but I often observe it all
as a silent picture fixed on a wall
in your deep eyes
about to fall

I'm coming down
But I'm still racing
Burnt out
Too many cigarettes

And my dreams are usually at full speed
In the arms of REM sleep
So tell me why, as my body was flyin'
I was in the wicked garden all night

I had a knife in my pocket in the closet
I had my clothes on in the bathtub
Sister tells me I need to run
But I missed the starting gun
And all old friends were in on it
A conspiracy, but I'm the theorist
And I remember the 7-11
And all the fish dying as they went to heaven
Sister tell me what I have to do
She says a train is coming through
Next thing I know, I'm at the bus stop
With nothing but a knife in my pocket

My subconscious feels really low
As these speed dreams move so slow
Burnt out, as I light another smoke
Why does it always come down to That motto

My thanks can be sent to anyone                                                                           Anytime,anywhere,and everywhere ...                                                                  My thanks can be expressed in words and                                                            In deeds anytime ...                                                                                                  It's very important to have thanks                                                                         To everyone ...                                                                                                           I love to express my thanks                                                                                     In different ways ...                                                                                                  I always love to send thanks to all people                                                               Anywhere and everywhere ...                                                                                             ____________________