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 Apr 2017 Jay Cee Shay
Pagan Paul
.
She sits for most of the time,
in a metal chair with wheels.
Counting out the value of life
with an injury that never heals.

She waits for most of the time,
to confirm that she is really there.
But how many people notice her
sat down in her wheel-chair.

She's invisible for most of the time,
she is there but nobody spies.
So she spreads her tiny wings
and floats unnoticed to the skies.

She cried for most of the time,
always alone and lonely in a crowd.
Now flying free her spirit rises,
there's no discrimination in the clouds.


© Pagan Paul (25/12/16)
 Apr 2017 Jay Cee Shay
Gidgette
I dwelt under the red current of the River Heartbreak
A black stone, polished by time and tears
Tossed to the depths by a cruel child for a passing glimpse of his entertainment
Pieces of Eight saw the dark shine of times polish
He bent, lifting a single broken piece of Ebony from the hearts blood
Smiling at the shining blackness so opposite from he
And while the Ebony stone no longer dwelt in the red
It was still
Ebony
And he was still
Pieces of Eight
Pieces of Eight is a synonym for gold and a metaphor for something non-existent.
 Apr 2017 Jay Cee Shay
Traveler
Through spirit realms
Through lover's eyes
Invisible doorways
Where secrets hide

I seek the unknown
As chill bumps rise
I seek the truth
Of her and I

The points in time
We leave behind
The keys
To love unknown
By the brilliance
Of the poetic mind
Envisioning streets
Of gold

Holding on tight
To the breath of life
To sustain me
one more mile
Beyond this darkness
Into her light
If only
For a while...
Traveler Tim
My philosophy
It works so well for me
Its not pretentious
Its not malicious
Its not counter productive
And best of all its more than simple

My doctrine not a bore
Not there to bring you to your knees on the floor
No paraphernalia
No reason to wear something so particular
Not lost in ancient beliefs or mystical myths
No concerns with blinkered visions
And no indecisive socially infected transitions

I have though, with great sorrow, great regret
Begun to imagine that I'm the one who hasn't quite got it yet
And my philosophy
Has become the fantasy
A Utopia I would guess
That obviously fails, globally, to impress
My dreams are sour, freedom apparently will never be free
And the life we all play out is but a parody
Mistaken for a wise man,
never true to his word,
thieving little *******,
never going unheard,
he thought it was his,
he knew that it wasn't,
still pretending he owned it,
for caring? he doesn't,
his box of tricks just fooled you,
you shouldn't be ashamed,
there's a list of all the ones who've fallen,
to him,
to me,
you're just a name.
I've poured over books of science
Studied hard the ancient arts
Even spoke with bearded Guru's
On the peak of mountain tops

Taken classes from learned professors
At top notch universities
But if Jesus isn't brought up
What good are they to me

I've rubbed elbows with Hollywood Stars
As they've rehearsed their lines
Had discussions with dignitaries
With Presidents I've wined and dined

I have watched the worlds top athletes
Some of whom I'm their biggest fan
But if Jesus isn't in the process
It doesn't make any sense

I've seen a man walk on the moon
Plant a flag beneath the stars
Heard men give the greatest speeches
Watched men drive the fastest cars

You could say I've about done it all
And in that you would be right
But without Jesus in the mix
There's not much good to life
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