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 Jun 2015 Jean Rojas
PS
The night at the ball
I met a foreign prince
He told me he liked my shoes and smile
And I've seen him around here since

He is a Prince Charming
He searched through the land
However, others had ideas
A spy shook both our hands

Another imposter to the throne
Claimed to be his girl
She took his photo on the side
And cracked our china world

And so, I thought of him again
As he rode on horseback
After many months of zilch
The prince and I, at last?

The prince was very perfect
He was all charm and looks
A part of me could never speak
To the man I knew from books

But soon I finally saw the light
And the prince had just about ceased
Prince Charming is for Cinderella
And I like Beauty and The Beast.
I thought about a fairy tale to describe the whole situation. Hope you all like it.
 Jun 2015 Jean Rojas
Perri
almost
 Jun 2015 Jean Rojas
Perri
people love to come into my life,
and dangle themselves in front of me
so close,
that I can feel their warmth
and hear their breath
so I can smell their scent
and see their beauty
and just as I am about to reach out
to embrace their presence,
they yank themselves up and out of my life
leaving me confused and hopeless,
until the next one finds me
I HEARD a woman's lips
Speaking to a companion
Say these words:

"A woman what hustles
Never keeps nothin'
For all her hustlin'.
Somebody always gets
What she goes on the street for.
If it ain't a ****
It's a bull what gets it.
I been hustlin' now
Till I ain't much good any more.
I got nothin' to show for it.
Some man got it all,
Every night's hustlin' I ever did."
 Jun 2015 Jean Rojas
martin
When the glass runs out of sand
Gently guide me through the night
Sit by me and hold my hand
Be my comfort and my light

Gently guide me through the night
Let us chase the shadows down
Be my comfort and my light
Let me see you smile not frown

Let us chase the shadows down
Though I see your eyes do weep
Let me see you smile not frown
Until such time as we may sleep

Though I see your eyes do weep
Sit by me and hold my hand
Until such time as we may sleep
When the glass runs out of sand
I was, “then,” – when you found your voice.
I was, “there” – By trip come broken lace.
So it’s “there,” where bravado’d gallant, and
“There,” where time flipped tricks, and theatre
Prior regret. Previous want and wary brow,
More importantly, ‘fore we’d ever remember.

Perhaps and only precursory,
The single bead of sweat, making way,
Later tear, and forever’d a tale,
From forehead unto sacred navel.
So the story goes, blasphemous and becoming,
After us, after, “one” and later, returning to,
“One,” again, this singularity of sorts.

I’d wallow, “after,” wherein we succumbed,
So much like the rest of the world –
Under, “soil,” under spotlight, under scrutiny;
Somehow ill from our mutual ******,
But even more so, the anesthetic consumed
Hours early and promise come one walk home.

More importantly, though, I am, “now,” stuck,
Stalled, dripped with fear, downing one beer,
After another beer, after another, after another,
And in reconciliation ‘for your maintained halo.
I’d wanted away, achieved a block, fell short,
Yet still, I somehow remain, a first – committed,
Whilst you dreamt that I’d never look back.
My wrath could move mountains
Conquer the tallest Titan
Bone shattering like the bite of a crocodile
It's everlasting
Longer the the Nile
When it's unleashed its vile  
Jagged  
Unpredictable
More unpleasant then a rotten smell
From a corps a flamed in hell
The devil dwells
Swells as he feast
On this beast
Looking to cause pain
It's inflictions are like cuts from a rusted knife
Eyes blood shot red
Logic has fled
The only mission is to hurt
It pours down like ashes from a slumbering volcano
Awaken and anything in its path mistake for a target
Bargaining on failed attempts
The demons swim in the rage
Wraths locks has been weakened an shaken loose
But this only the beginning
The door is still close
Once its open who knows
1001

The Stimulus, beyond the Grave
His Countenance to see
Supports me like imperial Drams
Afforded Day by Day.
 Jun 2015 Jean Rojas
Tomas Denson
Why cannot here be peace
on this many colored world there could be
where the circles of pain and hate
burn ever moving into victims
freezing hearts from loving movement
to the stillness of the never born
the unsmiling grip of payment
where shrieking heard cry
they owe for what they did
though righteously deny the fee that comes
breathing vilely above ignorant heads
feeding of words that know no better
cursed to echo what went before
for the circle only knows this
here  past is the future
there future the past
and without breaking the endless spinning
change shan't be able
we all cry for a hero to change our ways
though to step forward is too much
though when they come
as one treat them as have been treated
and expect them to be better
hope they will be better
beg them to be better
while we tear them screaming
down to equality
in the dark and pain
from where escape only exists
in the fragmented dream of peace.
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