Life wears me out with
its twists and turns
and hairpin curves.
I keep waiting for a long
peaceful stretch of
highway, bathed in
the rising sun;
a golden wheat field
to the left, a moss covered
pond with dragonflies to
the right.

The road turns to
gravel and rapidly
climbs uphill.
There are signs along
the way that promise
the world.
The road becomes narrow,
turns to dirt,
and ultimately disappears.

This is the other me
        The fake me
                The real me
                        The screaming
                The crying
        The Chain Smoking Cigarettes so I can Hurry Up Dying

Bitterly Hopeless
Sweetly Toxic
Maybe if I stare enough
You'll finally   u n l o c k   it
The secret I've buried
The one that I wish I had never seen
The secret I've carried
I spill my veins on the floor,   u n c l e a n
Hoping my insides Drown Me
Praying you forgot the key
Because you know what I know
The lie that I told
It's Rotted And Empty
Hollow like my head could be
So hurry, run, go
Before you understand

The Worst Part
           None of it was real
I'm just
           Me  .

I have a warming glow

coalseced in the pit of my soul

giving rise to more profound insights

that are yet to claim their words.

I pray they do find them similarly

in days yet to come,

but the beats pass unavailed often.

Her grace and beauty blew in like a warm wind

Caressing the soul of one's creativity,

Raising blooms wherever she touched.

A blessing so powerful heaven could tear open with one thought and rain joy or tickle with delight!

With the same breath a tornado of hard hitting truths could lay down to rest when lyrically wrought

a gentle awakening from slumber

Without objection one would invite her careful dissection, the intimate eye of her perception

Her love is fierce as it is gentle, a stinging healing tincture

And she vanished just like the wind

But the feeling is indelibly there

And I fear always will be in memory only

And if so she unwittingly took my breath with her

On that stellar journey where were so destined to have met.  
So I will go on in suspense looking around every corner of every page for signs of her,

incase she decides to breeze in in that cool way she does and washes every eye anew.

All is fair in love and war
Was full of it

Because how can something that burns so quickly and leaves charred corpses in it's wake be fair
How can something that uproots the lives of many while leaving the lives of those adjacent fine
It is wholly unfair fall victim merely for being in the wrong place or time

Battlefields consume souls
No matter their varied geography
The path is always the same
Destruction can not be avoided nor cheated
Like Sister Death, both lie in wait
Lurking and prowling to devour the unfortunate ones
Praying for fairness that doesn't exist

Why are all the good things scary
You'd think that flying would be breathtaking and exhilarating
But
All I can think about
Is how close I am to falling
It's suffocating

I look forward to the re-enactments of historic moments in the pageant of The United States of America. [sic]

Gettysburg, Crossing the Delaware, The Moon Landing, Paul Revere's Ride, The March on Washington, The Storming of the Capital, The Clearing of Lafayette Plaza, The George Floyd ******, The Separation of Families, The Arizona Re-count, The Plot to Assassinate Democratic Governors, The Imprisonment of: Jared, Donny, Eric, Ivanka, Don, Carlson, Greene, Gaetz, Guilianni, Hannity, Conway, McVeigh, Barr [sic] (just to mention a few of the Founding ****-Ups.), the death of 650,000 people (the vast majority being innocent), The Pandemic of the Unvaxxed [sic]

After July 4, 2024, History may never be the same. See it now!

I am woke,
Yet living in a nightmare
Of prejudice.

Giddy-up to Goofey-land,
Saddle up the pachyderms;
Ain't Florida grand.
They click and cluck
Don't give a ****;
They kiss... kiss...kissing
And yet they're missing
The white hat way of life.
They know squat,
And that ain't a lot,
As they ride off
In all directions.

There's no water
In my well;
No pulley,
No bucket
On the end of a rope,
For you.

There's no water
In the cup
Of poison
I spew.

It's not your business,
But you asked;
Don't.
There are bigger concerns,
The phone lines are open.
Attend a town hall;
Write an editorial.
Churches have eager ears
That listen in the dark
Behind oak lattice.
You could walk away
With three Hail Marys,
And a slew of Glory Be's.
But I have a question for you,
What's your business?