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 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
Slam it on the floor
And run out that door,
Charlatan down the street,
Mud stung boots on ***** feet.
The suburban
Life;
Papa head full of bourbon
Left his wife
For some ***** ****
Who’ll ****
Cheap, and a beer filled gut
And poor mama outta luck
With some useless kid,
She’ll sell him to the first bid.
Black and white
The TV will yell,
This place is surely hell,
Next room a bottle crashes
Another fight
And a family burns to ashes.
The dogs will bark:
"Has the world gone mad?!"
The dogs will bark:
"The world has gone mad!"
 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
Flower (10w)
 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
The
last
flower
in our
garden bloomed
yesterday.

It’s smiling.
I never do the 10 word thing.
This is my first try.
What do y'all think?
 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
Circus!
 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
It's a circus
Without the tent,
Without the colors,
Without the fun.
A mad circus.
And the carnies and the freaks,
That's you and me and them,
my friend.
To whom do we perform to?
Ask yourself that!
I don't know.
This popped into my head when I was writing a Facebook status.
Imagine that!
Not bad in my opinion...
I do need a better title,
suggestions would be nice.
 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
A ship floating on a sea
A sea of black clouds
Wave after wave of darkness
And the ship sails on
No salt stings the air
No seagulls sing high
The taste of bitter death
Or rather not death but life
Death seems sweet
A sweet thing to live for
Live to die
Live to sail
To sail on the black clouds
To sail on the ship
To thrash about the waves
Waves continue the slam
It won’t sink
We’ll make it
To the port
I see the lighthouse
Sitting above that spike
That sharp tooth of a hill
Lighting the way
Sail on
Sail on
I'm not so sure about this one but they say that the best poetry is spontaneous.
I guess it is.
 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
To _______
 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
What was it
But melting candles
As they burn through
The loud silence of the night
A flame dancing the waltz
With the voice of the wind
As it sang their melody
And we watched
The melting candles
Our eyes meeting
Wine stung kisses
And wet bed and sheets
Cool, so cool to the touch,
Skin golden, a treasure,
The memories quick to flee
Another lost
What was it
This is an old one. Like 2010. Could use a new title... suggestions?
 Apr 2013 Ghos
Chris T
Failing to comprehend
The idea painted
In colors gray and white
Dull and sad
Not a smile
Among it
The picture spoke
In foreign tongues
Flashing its surreal
Blood
A chalice was brought
So that it'd flow
And then ‘d drink
Absorbing the
Terrifying truths
Scattered upon
The canvas yard

— The End —