ummm, that's the poem.
what it says.

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper
  sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes,
  new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind,
  and the old things go, not one lasts.

birds on barbed wire,
watching over me,
lodged in a private
penitentiary.

birds on barbed wire,
not a chirp or peep they make,
they just perch between the barbs,
watch, waiting, wait, watching me
shiver in silence, violence shake.

birds on barbed wire,
will neither spread wings,
or take flight,
these wire-bound birds
will not
leave me out of their sight;

-nor will any such
birds on barbed wire
call out or make cry,
these birds on the wire
are here to wait and watch me
just die.
___

birds, barbed wire:
http://beautyineverything.com/5082513864

The sunset kissed the horizen  and the flask was finally empty.
My old friend to no suprize  had said his last goodbye.
Theres a place in a man's mind that doesnt allow understanding.

Darkness was soon to replace the laughter.
As a void was forever left.

Walking from the site I had no dellusions this was  to
be continued  no play of words could twist fate.
Outlaws were never ment to see happy endings.

He knew the game and laughed at it's  outcome.
To be forgotten  wasnt a ploy but only time held the cards
and its face wasnt giving any clues.

The redness in the clouds like a perfect backdrop
cast a shadow apon the headstone  the leather bound flask
with the intials engraved into its front.

Was but a side note to a epitaph.
Time in thought's is wasted apon a life
ment to be otherwise empty.

It's time for me to leave.

And so a souls winter does begin.

Have but one God: thy knees were sore
If bent in prayer to three or four.
Adore no images save those
The coinage of thy country shows.
Take not the Name in vain. Direct
Thy swearing unto some effect.
Thy hand from Sunday work be held--
Work not at all unless compelled.
Honor thy parents, and perchance
Their wills thy fortunes may advance.

**** not--death liberates thy foe
From persecution's constant woe.

Kiss not thy neighbor's wife. Of course
There's no objection to divorce.

To steal were folly, for 'tis plain
In cheating there is greater pain.

Bear not false witness. Shake your head
And say that you have "heard it said."

Who stays to covet ne'er will catch
An opportunity to ******.

Thou shalt no God but me adore:
'Twere too expensive to have more.

No images nor idols make
For Roger Ingersoll to break.

Take not God's name in vain: select
A time when it will have effect.

Work not on Sabbath days at all,
But go to see the teams play ball.

Honor thy parents. That creates
For life insurance lower rates.

**** not, abet not those who ****;
Thou shalt not pay thy butcher's bill.

Kiss not thy neighbor's wife, unless
Thine own thy neighbor doth caress.

Don't steal; thou'lt never thus compete
Successfully in business. Cheat.

Bear not false witness--that is low--
But "hear 'tis rumored so and so."

Covet thou naught that thou hast got
By hook or crook, or somehow, got.

I made a list
of all the men I had *** with

It was a decent list
But it wasn't enough
to be called neither a *****
nor an angel

I tucked it away
Into the pages
Of a collection of poems
by Charles Bukowski

I imagine he would've found that
amusing.

The King of the World is on his way now,
he always shows up when the chips are down.
Everyone just loves The King of the World,
he always arrives with his banners unfurled.

The King can be a loud chap,
or The King can be quite a quiet mime,
he even puts his pants on
one royal leg at a time!

The King might eat breakfast,
or The King just might not,
he is everything you are,
yet is is all that you forgot.

He's a musician of sorts,
with a very big band,
his arrival is in herald,
throughout every land
-with brass trumpets a-blare,
and snare-drums rat-a-tat,
he makes everyone aware,
that he's now where you're at!

The King marches his forces
through the cities and fields,
assure of his courses,
lying flat beneath his heel.

He revels at the sight of deterioration,
fills his belly with the joy of nations in extinction.
The King grounds everything down to things he scrapes off his boots,
he topples the governs and poisons the cultural roots.

The King's fixations are splashed with spatters of blood,
turning kingdoms into crumbles of ashes and mud.
He bulldozes the bodies into toxic pits of ****,
contaminates by obscenity, wringing his hands at the wit.
Lionized by his minions in the empty empires he wrought,
The King's elite ruling class is dictated with rot.

In the aftermath of the bile
of his genocidal, sweet plight,
The King celebrates with great style,
turning the daylight into night.

With bonfires a-blaze on the wicked, windy wasteland,
The King of the World strikes up his big band,
and once marching again will torch and ravish the land,
dropping massive, beautiful bombs for the sake of the thrill,
melting the people and villages and eroding the hills.

The time for The King
always is nigh,
for he is surrounded by
the conjurations of lies.

Some say he is evil,
(but, he's not the Devil, you see)
-He's The King of the World,
he is you, he is *me.

*******
with your breathing
*******
with your charms,
*******
in the light of day,
*******
in your arms.

*******
with your heart,
*******
with your soul,
*******
just to keep me warm,
*******
in the cold.

*******
if you want to,
*******
when you're on the phone,
just as long as you make sure you
*******,
for my funny bone!

__
some poems are just meant to be completely stupid.

...and fellatial.

I'll have me an Irish Coffee,
make sure the coffee's fresh and stout,
add a dash of dairy cream,
and do NOT leave the whiskey out!

http://beautyineverything.com/4819896887

Here's the ****** recipe:
"Black coffee is poured into the mug. Whiskey and at least one level teaspoon of sugar is stirred in until fully dissolved. The sugar is essential for floating liquid cream on top.[11]  Thick cream is carefully poured over the back of a spoon initially held just above the surface of the coffee and gradually raised a little.[12]  The layer of cream will float on the coffee without mixing. The coffee is drunk through the layer of cream. To ensure the integrity of the ingredients of Irish Coffee, NSAI, Ireland's national standards body published an Irish Standard, I.S. 417 Irish Coffee in 1988.[13]"

D-NOTE--It doesn't say a ******* THING about adding Bailey's Irish Creme or canned whipped topping and a plastic shamrock to the top of the ******* drink, now does it???
Anyone making Caife Gaelich with trendy ******* add-ons should be beaten with a shillelagh!

Sometimes I feel as though time has stopped moving
I know that it never really stops
That time moves as regularly as it can
But
Moments linger
They lag and rip and jostle
Stretch out like taffy in a candy stores window on a boardwalk
They have a tendency to stick around long past the expiration date
I know
Somewhere in the factual portion of my brain
That each second is uniform
One sixtieth of a minute and one thirty-six hundredth of an hour
Exact concrete absolute
Measured just the same
As if I can’t lose everything
In that same second
That was
At one time or another
As uniform and bland as all the others.

My mind wanders continuously
                 To and from the hear and now
Seemingly
  I don’t pay attention to what you say
    Not true
       I do, in a way
But thank you for talking at me
  When you thought I couldn’t hear
    
     Because the rhythm of your psychoses wears upon my soul
Weathering me
Not like the sapphire waves beating on a jagged coastline wearing a mighty cliff into the humblest grain of sand
Or anything quite that dramatic
                    More like the way subtle occurrences can effect ones perception so powerfully
And while I’m floating along
  From one island of idea to another
     I’m tethered to reality
        By the ironic lifeline of your madness.

Rang 45 minutes ago for pain reliever.
nurse just came i and told me:
"Sorry, pharmacy says we're out."

and then walked away.

Yay, me.