Ha silly
How benign
You do appear
But it's not true
You are quite savage
Too bad for those
Who knew too little.

Run like the wind
enjoy the freedom
while you can
cars are faster
and one day
you will be corralled
neigh you may say
but tis true I reply.

Deep in cold storage
You hang from your hook
So cold and well preserved
Waiting to be taken down
Thinking someone will help
Someone is gonna fetch me
Any time now
They won't.

Observing
the fast food crowd
A Harried mother
with crazed kids
A geeky dad
with one shy child
A youngish man
with a face full of ink
A young woman
just here for water
and an old couple
they seem happy
the list could go on
A full crowd with little
to nothing to do with each other
I'd like to read their minds.

A pox on em all
All reflective and ****
Telling me things
With nonverbal cues
That I so don't wish to hear
Too many lines
Too many dots
That is all wrong
That just isn't right
I want to deny it
But I know that I see the truth.

Knock Knock
It's grim
here to say hi
a bit earlier
than expected
I wonder why
was it something
you did
or just bad luck
either way
you'll be opened up.

Glazed life
tasty but unhealthy
should've kept
A better grip
on my soul
or sold it
for something better.

The world
is crumbling
and that TV in the window
looks dam good
irresponsible
possibly
but we could be dead
in an hour
or so it feels.

Would you get
looter mentality
if your world
started to crumble
perhaps
perhaps not
it's only hypothetical
for now.

Floating through
The inky nothingness
So lonely
searching
For a place to call home
I hate to be cruel
But I must ask
That you stay away
From me and
my abode
For you see
I'd rather not get crushed.

I always forget
to leave the jagged teeth
out of my smiley face drawings
maybe I should just buy
some smiley face stickers.

A hero for one age
just another legend
these days
A trying life
all it took to survive
was godly amounts of brawn
is there a good lesson
somewhere in there.

Way back when
knights had a code
they called it chivalry
it was less heroic
and more Clegane
then years later
it was said to be
a guideline
for gentleman's etiquette
the truth is
chivalry is just a word
and so long as we remember it
it stays alive
albeit in a warped sorta way.

A master photograph
shot by a master photographer
hangs on the wall
A thousand mundane words
turned into one haunting frame
though it does appear
to be a tad askew
I think it helps.

I want to help
Slightly more
than I want
to break the rules
for what it's worth.

so so dull
right up until
things collapse.

oh if only
it had been noted
at an earlier date.

alas perhaps we
can learn from this
or we could point fingers.

you were never here
and now
you're gone
what could have been
never was
never will be
well
always more figments
maybe one that's wittier.

The futures in my
camera lens
it's rather bleak
covering up the present
the past can still be viewed
but it has this
rose shaded tint
and i'm all out
of lens cleaner.

It's easy to dwell
On the dark side of life
Focus on the pain
But it isn't healthy
Or so I'm told
So maybe
Think about sloths
They're pretty funny
And if that doesn't work
I don't know
Try reading a book
Something not written
By Edgar Allan Poe.

It's easy to break stuff
It may seem oxymoronic
It may be
But I think the most
Efficient
way to fix things
Is to break things
On A very large scale.

Every effect has a cause
And vice versa
So I must ask
What is your cause
We see your effect
But what caused it
Can we stop it
Can we prevent it
Or are we doomed
To see this repeated
Time and again.

Just keep talking
eventually you'll
start making sense
of course by then
nobody will be listening.

waste away
tis the way of nature
to decay day by day
to make way
for something new
decaying isn't fun
nature doesn't much care
but we do
we often try to fight it
or try to ignore it
do birds care
they would if they could
probably.

"pity the land that needs them"
when things are going well
you don't need people
who go beyond the call of duty
when was the last time we
didn't need them?

My security  blanket
Is full of anthrax
Not sure when
Or how that happened
Maybe it's always
Been killing me
I wish I hadn't noticed.

towers of clutter
block the halls
make a maze
of an old abode
and an old soul lurks
somewhere within
it was never any good
at letting go.

What do pirate captains and popes have in common
What separates a King from a prince
or a Queen from a princess
can you guess
well I can
Its head-ware
the cap
a mighty fine hat
or a crown
you may have army's
or the adoration of millions
but true power stems from a hat

Obviously not your common hat
a big one or very expensive
is a must

If your hat is small or shabby
you will find yourself
in a sad position
not laudable
but laughable.

Too much mercury
in your soup
now the world
is all Topsy turvy
nah
it was always twisted
but now you can see
though I don't suppose
that's any real comfort.

Not much
Then anxiety
Then waves
Of apathy
Take me under
I have mediocre lungs
So I can only stay submerged
For a little while
I tried to stay longer
But nature took over
Ah that desperate
need
For life
And I felt anxiety
Once again.

I asked the devil
What will this
Get me
He said
Anything
On the bottom shelf.

I hope everyone
Has such a place
Or thing
Something
To defend against
The madness
That would cut through
The strings
That keep you
In one piece.

I could stare
At you for hours
Such peculiarities
Swirl within your
See through carcass
I tap on your glass
To check it's effect
Nothing much
But that's okay
I'm still
Having fun.

Pretty but absent
Here's about
I should go
To the city
Where neon abounds
Gasp
I could get a hat
That glows
In the dark.

Beware those
who tell you
to rid yourself
of worldly possessions
while wearing
Armani suits.

Treat others as you
Want to be treated
This makes sense
From a certain perspective
But the obvious assumption
Is you want to be treated well
What if you kind of
Want to be ignored
To hide in plain sight
What if you feel such guilt
That you don't think
That you deserve what's right
What if your just not sure
How to treat someone right
Because maybe you weren't taught how
Maybe a new golden rule
Could be just try not
To be too obnoxious
Which is really the same thing
At least in spirit.

I made a mistake
So I erased it all
And rewrote it
But I made a mistake
So I erased everything
And I drew it all again
But
I
Made
A mistake
So I put my pen down
Crumpled up
The nonsense
And cursed my muse

Symbols of death
At their best
Thry're plucked
And put on show
In the stares
They perish
Second
by Second
Maybe you
Should just
Leave them alone.

not out loud
obviously
but I would think it
possibly even whisper it
in a private place.

you know
all the words
you need to
since
they're my words
and those
are the best
sort of words.

As you bake
under the sun
you may feel
summer will never end
but no winter is coming
department stores
are stocking up
on Christmas trees
can feel that winter chill
could be the A.C.

Ha
can't blind me
these new shades
will hide my eyes
I mean
they will
if I can remember
the last place I left them.

No one
Everyone
A simple passerby
A nosey neighbor
A friend perhaps
But can I judge
You for your actions
Of course
Should I
Perhaps not.

They are waiting
For you to be done
Then they'll swoop in
With eager faces
To crack you open
And devour
What you have inside
And when they're done
The last bits of you
Will be thrown away.

You
Being eaten
By cabbages
I know I know
Cabbages
They don't eat folk
You crazy person
But you see
That is the fun of it
If cabbages ate you alive
That would be a sign
That God condones
My hate for you
And it would make
For a great photo
To put on my wall
A beautiful mix
Of emerald and scarlet.

*******
knocking down
some one else
just for jollies
possibly to work out
internal frustrations
i'd say karma
or the people
will get you back
for this behavior
but it never stopped you before
why should it now.

SPEAK UP ******
you quiet down
I speak
at a reasonable decibel
everyone else
is just too used
to yelling
probably.

humans are weird
each in their own
special snowflake way
but you're still a freak
and you won't get
to bury a car
with the other snowflakes.

An old memory
of beautiful music
tainted by the knowledge
that the skill was learned
under duress.