I used to watch Thomas the Tank Engine as a child,
now it's called Thomas the Train. I have pictures with Thomas the Tank Engine, not Thomas the Train. I love Thomas the Tank Engine, not Thomas the Train. Why did they change it to Thomas the Train? He's a tank engine... He's Thomas the Tank Engine.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
I walk through these days
In a blur I question reality. Feeling timeless Although I am a creature of time. And sometimes- I wish I were an animal Because they truly live without worry. And then they die But death doesn't stop them from living. And I want that. I want to live without the thought of death. I don't want to die in a hospital bed like those before me. I want to rage against the dying of the light As Thomas once said. And I want to love And love deeply And together there will be no time, Just us. Just until we are no more.
Time is a social construction
When days of future pass
and cannot come again- Half a century seems a moment. A loved musician meets his end. The haunting notes you played on the flute; those somber moody blues- will echo through eternity though you, yourself be through. A treasured disk of Vinyl; A loved, remembered song. I played it first when just a teen living in my parents’ home. A Sculptor’s work melts in the rain It’s lines made indistinct An author, once thought popular, may soon be out of ink. A film made in the golden age is faded acetate. The beauty of white satin nights I hope escapes their fate.
( Ray Thomas, a founding member of the Moody Blues, has died. Their album " Days of Future Passed" was one of my first acquisitions.) 1967
Little girl, little girl
It aches merely to think of this song About the man that sewed all your heart holes It distorts you inside You’re 23 but you’re such a newbie To fall for him like this You’re 23 but still full of naivety Little girl, little girl That from the beginning he means everything to you and you mean something to him but something’s not everything Little girl, little girl That he didn’t care to hurt you at all But you are aching Hanging on a whatsapp message Or anything from him Little girl, little girl That fell so hard so high from He became an obsession He got in your brain wires To death… Little girl, little girl He’s not what you expected What high hopes for someone so low It was fun in his bed Till you lost your mind Little girl, little girl Fighting against yourself… Little girl You are a bit more older today
I wrote this poem after discovering one guy I met and I was absolutely crazy about really didn't care about me. Although I think the poem explains itself much better tHan I ever could without the help of lines and (lack of) rhymes.
What you did to me
Is something that musn't be done But at least I had fun... You broke my heart But it didn't hurt much Playing with my heart My deepest fears, my deepest desires Such a lifeline you were Now torn apart... Now my fingers work again Although not against your body anymore But it feels good to be back not at home just myself
Thomas, Edward, Percy, James,
There is a point, not random names, Scarlet, Kevin, Stuart, Bob, I've not gone insane, become a ****. Manny, Diego, Granny, Sid, I've not gone hypo like some kid, Twelve random names that mean great fun, When watching telly with my son! © Cinco Espiritus Creation 2016
I went gentle into that good night;
A decision with which I am rather pleased, For what would it profit me to rage? When the absolute of the darkness slides in, And grants me these last few moments I see no incentive for them to waste. Dissatisfied men may cry out in indignance, And let anger and rebellion consume their last breaths, And frivolously spend their last minutes in livid disdain. Wild men who chase and pursue the stars in flight Feel their chests swell with the hatred of submission, But I? I know that the setting of the sun does not oppress. Disappointing men reserve all defiance when it is most required; When others’ blood pours freely and tears spill liberally They will shackle all insurrection to themselves. That is, until they are faced with this finality, this ultimatum That they cannot change, no matter how they rage. Not I. I was content. And with the last gifts, I went gentle into that good night.
A reflection of Dylan Thomas' famed poem, "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night."
The world is falling to pieces
Colored glass falling from a prism The reflection faded The world is falling to pieces Old friends stand alone Failure, their deflated stare A thousand screams Or a thousand songs One last note to echo... The world is falling to pieces Families break as friendship begs A familiar face twists The world is falling to pieces Demented ramblings of obsession Love is only in ideals The world is falling to pieces Every step away from one Must bring you closer to something The world is falling to pieces I know to catch the shards But they slip… The world is falling to pieces And I watch