Although the skies appear blue,
Blueish white, with cottony hue.
Coloured orange, with fainted red
Dazzles bright at each sunset.

Evening sky, intensely blue,
Fainted is the sunset hue.
Glowworms dance, adorn the hue
Happiness spreads  in the world anew
Into this landscapic purplish blue.

Juggling, days
Klucking nights
Lying stunned in this hue so right
Man, the creature, so curiously few.
No matter it's a day or two,
some hues amaze like a landscapic view!

Orange red, with deep yellow in blue,
Pearly stars, adorn the view.
Quilty cold, in the days with dew
Rosemary looks majestically new!

Sun, the ball of fire for few
Teaches, turns a page each new,
Unknown, interesting, perceivable to few
Vanity is so pale, to take,
Wander, wither, breath well each day.

Xmas may not come each day,
Yawn, smile, admire all days, as uncertain are night somedays
Z**enith meets  only the braves,  let zephyrs cuddle,  embrace your zealousy face.

We reposed in the long grass
sweating,
as the scent of gunpowder
lingered in the air.

I rubbed my sore shoulder,
and sipped sweet bourbon
while we wondered after
the ghosts of deer.

Walking back to the road,
there were tourists wanting to
have their picture taken
in front of a sign that reads
"Matanzas Bay Next Exit."

They look happy in their
bright polyester shirts,
and sunglasses

“Do they know that Matanzas means massacre?”
Sheeeeet.  That what that means?

An armadillo lays dead by the truck.

You wanna eat it?
“How long do you think it’s been there?”
Wuddn’t there when we parked.
“Can’t we shoot a live one?”
Shoot the dead one if it makes you happy,
But lets eat him.

A privet hedge..a broken gate the House with a roof tiled with Welsh slate,
a broken half open window from which the light throws shadows on the lawn..G'awn be off with you a Cockney voice shouts out.
The Camera pans.

A street,quite neat and real rare around these parts..two lovers on the corner sharing hearts..as if they could beat as one..
Move on there movie man the cop shouts from the black and tan.
The camera pans.

Traffic light that's stuck on green..a crowd gathers." I've never seen the like "..An old girls cry.."Someone will get hurt or even die,call the police "..as if they would bother their fat *** cans..
The camera pans.

It spins and spins upon its pins and captures you and me..and writes in Avatars of cars and flouting clouds of blues and whites,which balance out the unfilmed nights when cameras close their cyclop eyes and digitals tell no more lies.

I rise early like a bird..I heard a camera crew is coming down to film some scenes in my home town.
An expectant hush
An excited rush and then
The camera pans.

There's a girl from Loyang in the door across the street,
She looks fifteen, she may be a little older.
...While her master rides his rapid horse with jade bit an bridle,
Her handmaid brings her cod-fish in a golden plate.
On her painted pavilions, facing red towers,
Cornices are pink and green with peach-bloom and with willow,
Canopies of silk awn her seven-scented chair,
And rare fans shade her, home to her nine-flowered curtains.
Her lord, with rank and wealth and in the bud of life,
Exceeds in munificence the richest men of old.
He favours this girl of lowly birth, he has her taught to dance;
And he gives away his coral-trees to almost anyone.
The wind of dawn just stirs when his nine soft lights go out,
Those nine soft lights like petals in a flying chain of flowers.
Between dances she has barely time for singing over the songs;
No sooner is she dressed again than incense burns before her.
Those she knows in town are only the rich and the lavish,
And day and night she is visiting the hosts of the gayest mansions.
...Who notices the girl from Yue with a face of white jade,
Humble, poor, alone, by the river, washing silk?

Dilemma, the cerebral antebellum
The wrist flicked rhythm of the swamps
And the candlelit manors
Perched as tethered yachts atop the rim
Between twilight and dawn, awaiting the archetypal,
Cantilevered, alabaster shadows
Reckoning hatred with nature and burning the hallowed.  
Guests siphon pictures and survivors win registry
As History forgets to tell the sun and moon
Of their responsibility

i am an adult, and i am ok

i hate old misery gutses winging all day

you see i am a cool adult oh yeah

i live my life to the full, like it’s a big adventure

people are calling me a big fat boy, and i hate it so much

burt i am a cool adult anyway

i think i am better than anyone else

cause i like helping the homeless

while i asm trying to get people to help the poor with me

so they don’t be a **** that they are today

you see i hate pats voice in my head

cause i really liked him, and they are trying to turn me off him ya see

like i know i am an adult, but i am not awn old biddy

i don’t wanna be a cool kid, cause cool kids bully, and i am no bully

i love my life too much to bully anyone

my dad was a weird kind of fellow,

treating me like the cool kid, i never wanted to be

when i was young i wanted to be a cool kid, now an adult

i am an adult, i told my dad, in the cosmos

and dad is now a little girlie, betty, oh dear betty

ya see, i am living my life right buddy ole chum ole pal

i am an adult

adults don’t discipline

adults are creative like me

adults are nice like me

i like patrick when we were younger

we joked around together about TV shows and watched FOOTY together

and partied together, and cause of all that, i was wanting pat to

come to the nightclub or the club with me

that is when his voice started saying, I AM NOT YA DADDY

please, i am not trying to force patrick to be my daddy

i thought we were good mates or friends

please don’t give me delusions like dad, patrick was nice to me

i am living alright without him as a mate, but it would be great

to get rid of that daddy figure, out of him, and me

because dad is dead, and i went crazy before dad died, ok

throwing my iPad over the balcony, i still like computers

i am no woosey for life, dad hated that, i felt it was the reason why he died

so he can tease me with his next life

i hate dad putting his daddy in my mate patrick,

because, my mental illness still forces me to be crazy

only rich arrogant ***** are nasty to me

dad was a ****, ok

i never really made him smile

if anything, i want dads next life to sort of make him understand

what i visioned, but in the next 6 years, ok

i will help the force treat dad like a shy girl

how does it feel DAD

BARRY ALLAN HOSTS A GREAT GAME SHOW


and our first contestant is micheal maccarthy who was awn old channel 9 newsreader

and i will play press your luck with this dude, ok first of all how many chickens are in the box

and micheal looked in and said, 1   2   3   44 , and barry allan said, you are 2 off the target

and micheal said, no i am too off the year i wanted to join you up here, and barry said

ok dude, how many red coloured *******’s are in this box, and micheal said, 1   2   3    4   56

barry said you are right, congratulations and jubilations, and tell everybody that you are in love with

marilyn monroe, congratulations and celebrations, come on dude, let’s party oh yeseree

barry allan then asked micheal how many poor people has tony abbott ****** up

and miicheal said a lot, barry said no, give me a number,, then micheal said, there is no number

it is a word called infinity, and barry allan then asked how many people are mourning your death

and micheal said wow, i hope everyone that knows me, on screen and off screen

then barry all

barry allan said ha ha ha you and me, we will show the planets how to party





ha ha ha you and me, barry allan’s style of partying is so stu

ha ha ha you and me, i party well in this city

it’s a shame  that you diedon earth mccarthy,

but you’ll come back in another life, baby

oh baby, pick a bail of cotton

and then barry allan said, ok here is the news

and tonight maccarthy died, who was the best tv show host and news reader in the business

and dude, i am a partying, all over the town saying,

HEY YOU OLD MISERY GUTS, GET RID OF THAT AWFUL FROWN

it makes you look like an old fucken hag, and then dad said ok dude

let’s party right till the end, party and drive people around the bend

you see buddha pick a bail of cotton, oh yeah buddha pick a bail a day

WELCOME MICHEAL MCCATHY TO THE AFTER LIFE

In the year 1332, at auld Dupplin Moor,
Wi' a shimmering Dagger of War,
Ah pierced the Looking Glass,
And amid so wild a Fire Mass,
Ironclad and devastating,
Mine awn Wraith cam.
Owre He beheld me!
His Claymore gleaming, unsheathed,
Into a darkness no one could see,
Ghaist, I winna yield to thee!
Across yon shield wa, quo' He,
In tyme of war ah threw myself,
Wi' gilded Targe and unforgiving Fury,
High flames falling athwart my iron wame,
While thoosan times boiling wapin fell
O'er that clan of skellums (Wundor Sceawian!)
Frae the white barbican, before the black well,
While thoosan times rising nae fellow-mortal
Amid thoosan deadly onslaughts
Ironclad frae the Fire;
But now man, to my warlike whisper do listen:
Ere the rust, in robes of Time,
Shall curse thy blade,
Airn fist ye maun ay wear,
To hold the Firestorm,
To avenge yon star shining still,
And auld Duntulm's stane,
Sae ah shall be strolling forth
In battle ahead of thee!
And when before Dirleton's Wa,
Wi' Colour of Hell reddening,
And next to auld South Ruin,
Yell warlike, enraged Wha Daur!
To thy enemies, and to thy consumed flesh
Doomed I say no longer
Within a forerunning Shade of Death;
And now advance! thy lane, and faithfu'
To thy auld Emblem of Steel,
Whar moorlan winds gaed,
Whar Immortality gleamingly dwells.

Dawn comes and its time to
Eat but your friend
Ana is there for you and wont let you
D**own

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                  A Bouncing Baby Hyphen

Tiffany-Cherise Snark-Ponsonby (Tiffy)
And Terence-Rock Smith-Hoogerwerf (Rocky)
Married and hyphenated their hyphens
And made sweet hyphen in hymeneal bliss

And as these things happen, their hyphen was blessed
The old women of the parish counted the hyphens
To see if nine or fewer hyphens had passed
When Tiffy-Rocky were blessed with a beautiful hyphen

At the baptism they sprinkled in some apostrophes
For their daughter, Su’mm’er-D’awn-A’pril-Bre’eze

(Who was born in February)

why bother having my notifications on.
it’s not like anyone will reach out.
it’s not like my phone will light up.
awn does that make you sad?
what, i’m just telling you how it is.
if you got a problem with it, why don’t you fix it?
“people do reach out though,”
okay, who?
cause i ain’t getting the texts if someone is.
“don’t say that about yourself,”
why not?
it’s the truth.
why should i have my notifications on,
if no one will notify me?
there’s no point.
if that’s sad to you,
well then fix it.
text me then.
because i’m sick of doing your work for you.
you're an adult,
pull up your big girl pants and put in actual work for a friendship,
do your part.
i’m done.
i’ll let you feel what i have been feeling,
you probably won’t because it wouldn’t cross your mind.
if now you think you should text me,
well you're too late.
don't care.
don’t care if now you're trying,
you should’ve been trying a long time ago.
this is the real world babe,
no sugar coating,
no hand holding,
no gentle parenting here.
either do your part,
or leave.
so i guess you're leaving.

Rustled through cosmic pages of a loosely tethered reality,
Fell apart under the lime tree's heavy awn
The present wouldn't settle on me
Incompletion melted the crystal in my mind
I lost my sight
Felt lost in the frantic annals of an unsure universe