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 Jan 2017 PJ Poesy
JDK
"With the birds and shed it's a lonely view."
- Scar Tissue   The Red Hot Chili Peppers
(My brother, I think. It might've been me. Maybe both of us. Still a great song, either way.)

"I came in like a raiiiiiiiiinnbow!"
- Wrecking Ball   Miley Cyrus
(My sister. (Honestly I like her version better.))

"***** deeds, Dunder chief!"
- ***** Deeds   AC/DC
(My dad. Easily my favorite of all these.)

"There goes my hero, watch him as he goes.
There goes my hero: sergeant Harry!"
- My Hero   The Foo Fighters
(This was all me. For the longest time I thought this song was about a real guy. Good ol' Sgt Harry.)

"The boys of Becking town! The boys of Becking towowooown!"
The Boys Are Back In Town   Thin Lizzy
(My dad, again. (He's deaf in one ear.))
I always laugh whenever I hear one of these songs.
I'll never be able to listen to them the same way.
The last romantic...

Briefly departs his Shakespeare

Pages serenading sublimity

Juxtaposing the beauty of the stars

To the abyssal depth in lover's eyes

Lost in sonnet sunset

And the pentameter of lonesome sighs...

His heart must surely be a fish

Lovelorn wanting such oceans of wish.

To feel alive from being torn

Into madness A tumultuous storm....

The last romantic far from paths

And roads leading home,

Far from metropole and reality

In solitude a garden gnome...

Deformed from lack of society's

Influential propriety

Of hurry get married, of monogamy,

Grooms bride for every norm...but no.

Oh how aloof and naively blind

Dismissing the tutors' lessons in mundane life

The logic of lovelife like reasoning

These days of mail order brides,

Milfs and Latin ***** seasonings,

Are now for bid to buy (at auction price)

How is this decency or poetic

The Geometry of a fit sound mind?

(High on cloud nine, in line for a hookers time?)

Oh dear King Lear, what's happened here?

Sign of our times slow demise

Yet no one questions such schisms

Or ask why?

The illness of the romantic was once floral

It sickens with sweetness and aww

A dreamers pox deluded flight

Psychedelic was the high

(just stop all that effing rhyme time)



Perhaps it's self inflicted

Conditioned poetic days

To view all the world with love

Fauning eyes awake

Maybe in his idolatry of medieval adultery

There is a sort of peace

Of mind, of truth

Maybe accidentally it is found

Far from the madness of the heartless,

Mindless Crowds

Murdering muse and moody blues

By the numbers we color refuse and defuse

These digital days that pass in fog

Diminished worth

From fears' poison smog,

An unlived unloved life askew

Dead to chances made aloud

Tho' The perfect time is now...


Perhaps the last romantic chooses to go without

Shedding a painful tear

Detours introverted meekly feels

Avoiding any meaningful kiss

With every passion

petite mort...             a tiny death my dears

Some cannot handle such tragedy

Star crossed youth I hear are

                     All fools for love

And Still will / surely must

Die hard

Whether from wounds of doubts

Drowning in Lies of ties that bind...

Yet true love with imperfect hearts

Revere

Our Immortal beloveds

And the last romantic

Near or far away from here

Romancing whispers

Oh the lovely

Untouched years

                    Heavy as a hollow bone

Broken in perpetual wish,

His alone

A soul yet to atone a life of fear

Bewitched by drama's

*Magic Shakespeare.
that feeling, that . arrives unexpected from darkness, some winters’ mornings, opening the door to the sound of one black bran bird calling. track four repeated. that comes on waking finding   peace and comfort bound.



it is a fine line we walk, gently avoiding peptides, only just a theory, yet used independently, alongside honest work



reading how the body works, you will have a better understanding, yet they do not        teach of this

at school. they teach of clever yoghurt in adverts, i did not know microbes fancy food,          move our choices.



the play continues, some of the old cast, new actors oblige, ideas on lack of addictive ways. simple days without receptors. singing under breath, numbers.



have you been to the counting?





lines ruled to stop

vertigo setting in.

two

three

four

five

two

three

it is a fine line we walk, gently avoiding peptides, only just a theory, yet used independently, alongside honest work.



sbm.
 Jan 2017 PJ Poesy
Sacrelicious
Sick in the heart.
Perpetual darkness pulses through my bruised up veins.
Blood work seems to take forever.

Heathens cast the first stone and burn me at the stake.
Like the filthy witch I've become.

But in vain, I've been incinerating in silence.
Since you left me here with these vampires.
Hungry for the essence of my spirit.
 Jan 2017 PJ Poesy
Gidgette
People, they don't wish to see, or hear
Reality
They like only what they see, that is pleasant,
Their reality,
Consists only of *******
Parties, skin,
Thats it
Skin, and bone
No more,
No less
Silly creatures
Feeling nothing,
Seeing
Even
Less,
Yep,
Thats people

Heaven help us all,
And GOD bless
It's all just a wash.
 Jan 2017 PJ Poesy
Gidgette
I'm afraid common sense,
Sadly, has died
Invitations were sent,
But very few replied
It was even announced,
In the papers, on the news
I guess everyone was too busy,
With Donald Trump interviews
Mysterious, I think
That the day of the inauguration,
Common sense met,
Its final destination
Well, I really do wish I cared whom this offends. Sadly, I do not.
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