By: Cedric McClester

Time goes by fast
But memories that last
Are like snap-shots of the past
That we view in contrast
To the here and now
And so we make a vow
To apply the breaks
And avoid our past mistakes

Time goes by fast
And nothing ever lasts
For those who are miscast
Or the errant iconoclast

In the rear view mirror
Things become much clearer
To the standard bearer
Who see them much nearer
Than they were before
When it was easier to ignore
The intricate designs
Of the various warning signs

Time goes by fast
And nothing ever lasts
For those who are miscast
Or the errant iconoclast

Seconds minutes hours
With all it’s magical powers
We observe like blooming flowers
That time finally devours

And as slowly we retreat
To our thoughts so bitter sweet
Not acquiescing to defeat
That occasionally we meet
So we long for yesteryear
Cuz we’re far away from there
And the veil is very shear
Between there and here

Time goes by fast
And nothing ever lasts
For those who are miscast
Or the errant iconoclast

Time goes by fast
But memories that last
Are like snap-shots of the past
That we view in contrast
To the here and now
And so we make a vow
To apply the breaks
And avoid our past mistakes



Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.

By: Cedric McClester

Time goes by fast
But memories that last
Are like snap-shots of the past
That we view in contrast
To the here and now
And so we make a vow
To apply the breaks
And avoid our past mistakes

Time goes by fast
And nothing ever lasts
For those who are miscast
Or the errant iconoclast

In the rear view mirror
Things become much clearer
To the standard bearer
Who sees them much nearer
Than they were before
When it was easier to ignore
The intricate designs
Of the various warning signs

Time goes by fast
And nothing ever lasts
For those who are miscast
Or the errant iconoclast

Seconds minutes hours
With all it’s magical powers
We observe like blooming flowers
That time finally devours

And as slowly we retreat
To our thoughts so bitter sweet
Not acquiescing to defeat
That occasionally we meet
So we long for yesteryear
Cuz we’re far away from there
And the veil is very shear
Between there and here

Time goes by fast
And nothing ever lasts
For those who are miscast
Or the errant iconoclast

Time goes by fast
But memories that last
Are like snap-shots of the past
That we view in contrast
To the here and now
And so we make a vow
To apply the breaks
And avoid our past mistakes






Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.

I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to feel the impact of your absence
To see that you were taken by a substance
I'm sorry I was never there
Not once to wash away your fears
Nor tuck you in at night
Take away the fright
But the death I found lying sweetly in your eyes
Dug craters in my skin cells
Soft and precious little dents

I had to clean the blood away
Couldn't stand to see you there
So I scrapped and scrubbed
Until the thought of you had passed
But in this role, I was sickeningly miscast
And nothing could have stopped you
Not a single plead nor shriek
You left as fast as you had come
Without a cry nor squeak
And I could swear I saw you in the mirror
Walking hand in hand with death
But you did not look behind you
Not even at your ****

I'm sorry I didn't make it to the funeral
And I'm sorry I barely cried
I'm sorry that I let your sister see you while you died
I'm sorry that I blame you for my suffering
And that I'm still recovering

But most importantly
I'm sorry that I didn't save you
I'm sorry that it was too late
And I'm sorry I couldn't save you from the pain that drove you to your fate
That I couldn't take away your misery
Couldn't take away the evil
That you had to look for happiness inside a little needle

The road behind still seemed more tempting  than the wasteland of hollow thoughts and
empty dreams that lay outside my hotel room window.
I'd long since given up on having anything known as a comfort zone.

Still although it was hours since we landed still my thoughts rambled like some child as he sits listening to a trains whistle on a long dark night.

My fellow shadows had long since learned a private room was better than a front row seat to
my often insanity spun sideshow of late nights and bitter rants.
It was me and my thoughts a plague of my own creation  in full swing and obsecure few
a stiff drink and some good pills kept the thoughts at bay for the moment.

We found areselves in the city of Angels but  it reaked more of devils torment and wicked excess.
Hookers cheap *** and some overpriced drugs.
The blood of dreams covered the streets and old starts of the fames lure slept next to the broken and homeless.

Why had I ever came here was it ego?
Or just a good time to flaunt in the face of all thoose caught in the gears of
the day to day grind.

This land of empty thoughts  and cursed remakes there was nothing creative bout this scene kids  just give your neck to the vampire and pray he yerns for a taste.
Maybe you'll be one in the few or just another hideline.
Fallen star found dead outside some overpriced nightclub.

Me I was here for a gig and nothing more .
To provide some laughs between drinks i had no illusions of fame.
To me I looked in the crystal ball and just saw another cheap snow globe
of nothing more than candy coated lies.

This wasnt my scene it wasnt anyones scene just a playground gone
wrong a wasteland of bad ideas and hollow thoughts.
That made Vegas seem like a good idea at the time.

Neon lights and lost thoughts haunt the hours spent like some
silent witness to a future crime scene and a redlight work of art.

And as I recalled the nights show I tried to forget the faces from behind the lights
that seemed broken by some plastic surgeons *******.
Give me women with flaws and unsculpted fools.
Perfect people can have this place that seemed more like a gateway to
a delusion cast hell than screen print paradise.

Course many would paint it diffrent if they held the brush but I wasnt
much of a painter to begin with.
And as tommorow loomed with the smog I packed my suitcase thinking.
If we could just drown half the suits and give it to the miscast freaks
pretending to be superheros for tourist pics what a ****** up
theme park we'd have then.

A few hits and alotta drinks later we were gone and there was no question
If we had left a empression.
Only a ****** of a much higher degree would wanna leave anything there.
Except maybe a pipe bomb in a suits office bleeding some old franchise
for every drop it was worth.

No my friends the rearview wasnt looked in often.
What did you think of it?
My fellow traveler  asked as we counted potholes and passed the bottle

Well it sure wasnt Kansas my friend.
What the ***** in Kansas?
Anything but this ******* place amigo.

You cringeworthy, evil pismire;
Your father did surely miss-sire
This personification of flatulence,
The embodiment of self importance
Overflowing with abject peccancy
Devoid of any sign of respectability
Replete with gross odoriferousness
Horribly and infamously unscrupulous.

You have reveled in misrepresentation
And tried to elevate your calumniation
Disinformation and deception exists
As capitalistic dissembling persists.
You’ve collected an evil government
Built mostly of human excrement
And have such a lack of veracity
That you speak in constant mendacity.

Sycophantic eructations of dogmatic bile
Issue from your unsympathetic smile
And your inauthentic glad-handed gropes
As if we all of us are unbright gullible dopes
That buy your fabrications completely
While you pilfer and prevaricate indiscreetly.
You are a Vaudevillian villain miscast as star,
But most of us know exactly what you are.

Deceit, deception, dishonesty; a tragedy
But not for you, for us and our country.
Distortion, evasion and fabrication the rules;
You despair of any other kinds of tools.
Falsehoods, fictions and forgery are your tricks.
You demand we build with straw-less bricks
Your erections that are planned to be palaces
Filled with your giant golden carved phalluses.

Those monuments, inanotomically correct,
Established to celebrate and somehow protect
A mountebank on the way to an overseas bank
Claiming to eradicate the scoria he creates
That decades of privation will not quite alleviate.
But you, the Great Prevaricator, will always blame
Other players in your sick, unconstitutional game
Instead of admitting your complicity and guilt
About the disgusting, putrid swamp you built.

Invested in you
I find our better angels give ground
******* by our egalitarian feelings for each other
Trumpeted by Gabriel’s miscast players
Bedeviled, we take what are yours, mine, and ours
Accumulated wealth protected from predators
Gives in to charitable impulse
Gives out, a gated community against colored encroachment
My bias against the opposition
Dissolves in your arms
We resolve to devote our energy
Toward getting off on the best footing available
Place where we care and don’t simultaneously
Then make fun of our foibles laughing at each other
The same way black and white grays as we mature color blind
Loggerheads whipsawed and dovetailed
Until we forget why we ever came together in the first place
Then remember this location, this smell, this touch, this taste
Karass, storm's eye, held center, Kane's rosebud cathected

It’s difficult
Putting together a mental image
Of what I thought I wanted
When I hear all these stories
That conflict with the integrity
I’d written for your character
I didn’t realize you don’t have any
*******.
I call it.
What’s wrong with you
How did you get like this
You twisted my mind into
Wanting to twist my body to
Impress a man I thought I knew
But that man is nothing like you
You steal my breath when you walk in a room
But along with my breath you take my sense of calm, my reason, my innocence too
The sad part is
I’ll still read these lines if you do

I wouldn't be alarmed
if you should go;
I've never been afraid
of mice you know.
I wouldn't watch you
take your leave;
I've never been the type
to sit and grieve.
I won't shed tears
now that you've gone;
we were miscast
and never got along.
I'll clean and wash
just as before;
prepare my meals
shut every ******* door.
With closed curtains
I'll cherish privacy;
I'll be a glad recluse,
if by chance, I need to be.

our choices leave us little room to spare
as day and night in sequence go by fast
no decent case of dignity to wear

and vision that suggests more cause to fear
in the cold present than in the dim past
our choices leave us little room to spare

for reprehension at the sullen year
that it has been the truth is all miscast
no decent case of dignity to wear

we're  all frustrated all thrown in despair
all fearful we will hear the final blast
our choices leave us little room to spare

for any of the goods that we should bear
since our great goal will never be surpassed
no decent case of dignity to wear

when we confront the enemy or dare
the final gate that victory's the last
our choices leave us little room to spare
no decent case of dignity to wear