JPC- My true love you threw your magnetic pebbles your magical out worldly rocks on my lap you called my small momma your portal to heaven star seed. I called your small Daddy the bridge to heaven and we whispered to each other the titles; Mama and Papa. I guess we lived many lifetimes as man and wife as twin souls interchangeable twin flames before. In almost every book ever written where love is lost or found and in every lifetime we found each other I'm never alone, we remain glued just one thought away. I notice your waves right here on HP they fall on my writ pond and mine fall on yours my beloved. You might just as well call me Delene where both of us meetings in some mystic time travel space ship. In love with your poetic waves revealing secrets; true love always takes chances on Earth and up in some exotic E.T. mother ship. ~~~~~~~~~ Mr and Mrs Andrews with Karijinbba.
Like ugly ducklings to lovely Swans transformed we are. I remember thine breath of life blowing in labellum. Stunt by your hunger for me In shivers silence stuck the dagger in heart mine and thine, beloved.
In vain I sought you I Roamed the open seas with cowards ****** greedy racist human predators In sheep's clothings. Two forces of good and evil hubbered above my cradle
To get here powers of evil took everything and I lost everyone dear to me even my honor just to reach thine forces of good I'd surrender to you if worth anything to you take it all for treasures in my hands
without fortress if your love slides like water in hands I find thee everywhere in famous art even in crossroad lights I found thee in sonnet 75 with William Shakespeare.
Thine grace showered me with wisdom and thine thirsting for me became my own longing for thee decades now my beloved
I search no more for thine love tattooed all over my vessel peacefully rests No one but us two can see it.
You reign butterfly in heart few lovers have eyed me yet quickly eluded me they too, like your butterfly, Go in search of their own.
Yes only yours returned Adorned with diamonds and rubbies calling me fiancee.
I painted two on my chest To never be apart I love thee the most forever and ever. ~~~~~~ By Karijinbba All Rights Reserved Sonnet, 75-95- present
True story an ET from another world designed two identical rubbie and diamond butterflies Just for me as an engay gement gift .Rdd/BbA
I turned 36 today but I feel like I’m 86 and all I want for my birthday is to die.
pain is everywhere/ hell is everywhere and happiness doesn’t exist.
no amount of love or change in my life can cure me from the aching loneliness that lies within
no amount of records could complete my collection
no amount of words could finish my poems
I don’t want to **** myself I’m not a suicide case you won’t find me at the bridge tonight and this isn’t a suicide note or a cry for help or attention seeking
I’m just really ready to go, ready for decomposition ready to escape from myself ready to be put out of my misery and to be released from total anguish that life has shown me
there’s nothing more this blue grey world could offer me when the sun shines I want the rain to fall my feelings are numb my brain is dumb my emotions have solidified depression makes you feel like a useless blob on the floor and I know now that happiness is a mound of decaying flesh with an empty slit as pretty as a melancholic smile.
do you think my poetry brings laughter?
am I an ancient jester of poetic injustice?
I sure hope so.
I wouldn’t want anyone to feel like the way I’m feeling now.
here we are approaching closer and closer towards the deadlines of our wasted lives and we have nothing to show for it except soul extortion and we pray that we may evermore dwell in expostulated successions.
I’m surprised I’m alive and survived the luck of my past that hadn’t killed me.
the cause that effected me to trade in my crazy antics (I’ve mistaken for bravery or invincibility) for mental acquisitiveness (I mistakenly thought was for personal gain)
and now there’s nothing more to complain about there’s nothing more to look back on there’s nothing more to hold onto and the most sensible thing for me to do is end it alone with the walls taunting the final destinations like a fly to the cat and somewhere outside the mares eat oats, the goldfinch pecks the dandelion heads and the motorcyclist revs up the engine with nowhere to go and dreams of riding through the Badlands at night, never-to-be-forgotten again.
you’re at the 8 hour job they give no overtime, no Christmas bonus, no raise, no promotion and yet you continue to bend over backwards for them only to receive nothing but grief, guff and paycheck so weak you can’t even afford a studio apartment for yourself in return
without praise, without thanks or that you did a good job
and after listening to the the same repetitive music and mind-numbing stories from your co-workers for hours and hours days and days weeks and weeks months and months years and years decades and decades eventually someone is going to snap
and this is how shooters are born, this is how bomb threats are made, this is what encourages people to commit random acts of violence
these people are not monstrous these people are broken and they have been driven into doing monstrous things
but upper management’s only concern is filling the owner’s pockets with money, not your mental stress— they want you to deal with that on your own time, not theirs, although they may be the cause
and in the end when the blur of mass murdering happens from the rampage of the disgruntled employee they act shocked and terrified with cries of outrage that such inhumane things can be happening right now.
we’re all responsible for our own actions but it takes a sadistic type of someone to propel another person into going berserk, to start seeing red in transcending limitations
some reasonable men are pushed into doing unreasonable things
as the shadows have stopped in the circle of dead children.
it happens like this— when one person parks their car crooked the others will follow in a domino effect and that’s god’s reflex towards an inept species a lore of ancestry bequeathed with the wrath of idiocy like passing a kidney stone of subnormal bodies fermented in the bright lights of dull boredom and unknown circumstances like wasted Sundays and that’s how it works we all fall into each other flesh grazing flesh played entirely on the chimes of a pocket watch in the liquid sunshine splitting the dividends multiplying the categorized implements subtracting accountability and adding the defamation in response and reaction to ******* or bacon sizzling in the frying pan but the dishes are ***** and need to be cleaned the dishes are clean and need to be put away the dishes are put away and need to be used to get ***** again the power lines are down in the 11th hour the **** never knows which woman to enter stale love doesn’t know why it’s chosen us the unleashed dog near the busy street never knows why it’s decaying on the side of the road so **** the desire, increase the performance, change the filter in the furnace and the fridge confront the imaginary killer clown that hides behind the shower curtain because when the carnival comes to your town with plastic, sugar and sensibility, it will leave you behind with consumption and subtle rain I say all this as I park my car ****-eyed and like most, I don’t take the time to straighten myself out.