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It is ruddy  exhausting scribbling down
The thoughts  from overnight
Like it is some F'King Plight!

You think it is a Dream
Till you  Scream
I'm staying in Bed!
Get out of my F'King Head!

The Life of a Poet with a Sense of Humour! Ha! Apology if the F Bomb upsets anyone.  It is not always me to let loose like this.  Perhaps I need to eh.
Spicy Digits Jun 4
Too much
For too long

Hurricane head winds
Head strong.

There's a socket
Unlit fuse

Movement's a'brewing
Missing a muse

I am hated
I am confusing
I am confused
But still refusing.

Too much
For how long?
i’d step on your neck at the best of times but
i wish you the best of luck with the rest of your life
break a leg, hit your head, break every bone in your body
though i hope you make it out alive because i’d hate to feel sorry
i hope roses by your bedside would suffice for a goodbye
i hope we never have to speak for the rest of your long life
break a leg
Too Much
Not Enough
Too Much
Not Enough
Too Much
Not Enough
Too Much
Not Enough

Time can haunt your head
Reminding you of death
Take control of you
If you allow it to

Too Much
Not Enough
Too Much
Not Enough
Too Much
Not Enough
Too Much
Not Enough


(c) Debra Lea Ryan
4th piece of an concept  album project idea.
KHY Oct 2023
A little daft in the head
She said, she said,
So many things
I tried to
Squeeze it
In my head
Jme Love May 2021
My head spins
My heart aches

Once again
Again and again

My stomach burns
My blood boils
I never learn

Once again
Again and again

Alone i sit

Once again
Again and again

Only to find
This pain you left behind

Once again
Again and again
Speaks for itself realy. What i allow to continue will.
Styles Jun 2023
you are a wild,
        that needs to be tamed.
        I am a hunter
        that enjoys your  taste
        so to conquer this desire
        I must devour you
        starting below the waist
Mark Wanless Apr 2023
do it in your head
conscious do it in your head
**** the dogs of war
Mark Wanless Apr 2023
where does love begin
in your own head only source
in the universe
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2022
tired of the voices in my head

blunt spoke, they never shut up, believing their longevity
provides a grandfathered status, denying them dispatch

they do not acknowledge my notice of eviction but the
rumbling is quieter this morning, the mournful bittersweet
residue of their whining, wrecking, nearly  murderous noises

their recital of my major crimes, weak selfishness that was the mirrored reflection of my weakness and jealousy, the hallmarks
of the failure to be brave at the moments that mattered, indeed, my own murders Eye-confessed-committed but yet unpublished, remain

flawlessly bawled out loud, with repeat threats to remand me to
a higher judgment if I escape responsibility in this world, which
is laughable as they have played accuser, prosecutor, jury
and judge, so oft that the processional process, my living justice, trembling, slow destruction is preliminary a full color, living hell

but this sabbath morning of a blue sky after forty days/nights
of a cold rain that relentless fell, sparing none, gives me a pretense, a veneer of an almost-bravery to dial till a click clean heard of a
thunderous silencio, “no más” no more and a sudden abrupt of
is this not preferable,
this silenced soliloquy of modest relief

and weep guilty~grateful for a reprieve, a small pardon that
undeserved for the heinous things I have permitted, nay, allowed, will never earn parole, early release, and the finality of no more delay, is a inevitably undeniable, and a poem
of excuses not successes, and an acknowledgment that
I’ll never seat at the head of a table
revered by my progeny

welcoming the arbitrary invitation delineation of a new year,
a fresh start

Sat Dec17 2022
New York City
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