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 Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe
John
Now I will be ******
If I ***** this up again
I like your pretty words
You ignore it like you havent heard
You've got to know what you're doing
But you like to play the dumb doornail
Coming over to me, your voice washes up
Always, never, your plastic words can't fail

I don't know if we're meant for this
But I think I'm ready to try it
Sorry I got so ******
Over such trivial ****
I'll keep my head on straight
If you promise not to be late
Awaiting a friend...
Wishing,
Praying,
He,
His
Poems
Soon
Reappear.

(Where art thou, Soul? Hope all is well...)

Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
 Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe
John
Last night I dreamed a dream
A dream where everything
Wasn't at all what it seemed
Peering through a ripped screen
I liked hearing you scream
Only you know what I mean

Out of everything in the world
Tonight I wouldn't trade it
For anything else
Because I think I made it
To the top of my mountain
Through the brush and thick trees
I hope I can drink from the fountain
You see, a guy like me works up a thirst
That can never be fully extinguished
Riding high and dry inside my hearse

What you never see
You can never truly be
And what you are
Can never take you very far
So you have to go out
Climb up on the building and shout
For the love of your mother
And for your father and your brother
In the name of all that is holy
You will always be the one true and only
 Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe
John
Drip, drop, drip
You fired from the hip
Third degree burns
Coming straight from your lips
I start to tremble at my fingertips
I'll never learn because I never made the list
And I guess you could say I got a little ******
So now I roam the country with nothin but my fist

Ever since, ever since
I stopped givin a ****
I just run around
With my heart in my fist
so much is lost inside the space of dark
where what we see and hear is felt so hard
that when we tear or find the door is barred
to every vision and without a mark
we turn to go we hasten to embark
on one more journey while you stand on guard
with eyes close watching on the final yard
as all our choices now have come down stark
no names are mentioned in the frozen place
where all are sorted for the last short trip
out to oblivion yet there's a chance
that these sad agents of the human race
may for a moment get themselves a grip
so joining in the finest kind of dance
 Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe
JM
Black ink on pale skin
Moonlight, my green scottish eyes
Tides sway in rhythm.
 Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe
st64
stoke
 Dec 2013 Quentin Briscoe
st64
crackle.. crackle..
flicker-flicker
auburn-licks in tiny-spits
roast a pail on terra firma
then ask.. how steady ground-nutmeg falls in drizzles of mercurial-flow



1.
school girl gets pulled off her books
sorry, gypsy-girl.. but *you no welcome here

   free-style don't cut it here
we give you cash to make like a cow
and go home
surprise as youth stand up against old-guns
then folk get called names and puppets turn ugly
as terms like demografix get flung
like a band-aid over an open-wound

when diva is denied a croc
out of the blue.. plop!
three apples fall to the ground
and cheap bar-lines seem catchy
but get raucous laughter echoing from hay-strewn tree-top rafters
mocking-tirades.. lazy-suitor, hard-recruiter

women wearing missiles on their faces
induce a fear like no man has seen
earth-quaking in boots of unreasonable-fear
near ponds of web-toed frog-giveness
catching the sing of plastic-ridged bullets in eternal-flight


2.
you can work your crafty-*** off
and still be without water or a roof

teabaggers get tagged
and innocence is frisked
while a good man dies
and the world mourns
very few know the real-hardship  
of those soldiers
who served duty-bound years
yet swallow anguish for long whiles after

now learning comes fettered
with resistant-glass to ward off
ricochets of unwanted-strays
and tax is almost everyone's burden
interest defeats pure-growth
as indigent-footsteps keep crawling
while high-flyers keep raking it in.....
on the backs of hoi-polloi

bursaries offer step-up to some
but so many fall along the side
thanks to the malice of profiling
as your mail is leaked to bots and ads
another gun-shot goes off..
and affluenza gets you a cosier cell
as the lesson is sad-skipped
and rats keep lining 'em pockets with fewer parolees
so, who will really bat an eye-flip
when a judge breaks the law?


3.
so correct
it's all rather crazy upside-umop
adolescent-boy remains adamant against expectations
will not cede a kidney
to his father's burst one
drink, daddy.. yes, drink some more!




stoke the embers to keep lit
that which begs life







S T, 15 dec 13
oh, how 'enlightening' the news, at times
oft, I take a deliberate break from news-reads
just to ease the over-raked eye.. a tad :)
.......to.. to.. to style in some harmony in rare muse-curls
even by a full or half-day later

something I read, though.. a touch positive
not to wait for leaders to emerge to effect change.. but to be part of that.. be it.
prends la parole!



sub-entry: hello poetry

hello, poetry
good-bye, doldrums

or is it.. see ya later?
ha!
Your words lead to your soul,
They have guided me, heart in hand,
To the truth of who you are,
And with bated breath I read them.
For it is there,
That your essence flows through me,
And carries me straight to you
copyright©PrttyBrd 15/12/2013

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