Often I get worried that my words aren't beautiful enough, when they come out of my mouth they seem to be swimming in saliva and uncertainty
and I get angry and spit and shout and say nothing.
Slammed like poetry readings.
I’m not following in your footsteps,
just repeating the rhythm.
(Teach me about good music
So that when do the dishes and hum
my teenie-bopper, headed-to-oblivion melodies,
you know it is malicious.)
Sometimes i feel like the best way to understand the world is to sit in my bedroom
and look out the window, trapped like the cat,
who, when he sleeps, twitches his paws and
i think he is dreaming of meadows, but really he is dreaming
of the living room chair.
“You should have named that cat Hamlet, he so pensive”
I named him Oreo.

Little RICHARD the proclaimed self architect of rock and roll sang out high pitched about GOOD GOLLY MISS MOLLY you sure like to ball when your rocking and rolling can't hear your mama call OTIS REDDING sang about SITTING ON THE DOCK OF THE BAY while RICHIE VALENS played his guitar singing LA BAMBA and FATS DOMINO found his thrill on BLUEBERRY HILL than MARVIN GAYE crooned through the mike that  I HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE and IF I COULD BUILD MY WHOLE WORD AROUND YOU PAT BOONE related to pioneer DANIEL BOONEspent  his day WRITING LOVE LETTERS IN THE SAND THE  COASTERS sang about that lazy CHARLIE BROWN  JOHNNY RAY sang about THE LITTLE WHITE CLOUD THAT CRIED  as GLADYS KNIGHT AND THE PIPS about taking THAT MIDNIGHT TRAIN  TO GEORGIA and IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN meanwhile THE FIFTH DIMENSION  sang about ONE LESS BELL TO ANSWER  one less egg to fry one less man to pick up after I should be happy but all I do is cry CLAUDE MCPHATTER in true rock and roll style  sang WHITE CHRISTMAS and RICKY NELSON sang POOR LITTLE FOOL AND TRAVELING MAN when I heard about THE BEATLES I  thought they were coming over the water to eat up our crops but they had  A YELLOW SUBMARINE sweet and wholesome CONNIE FRANCIS asked WHERE THE BOYS ARE some CHAINGANG and CUPID draw back your bow and let your arrow go straight to my lovers heart for me ALLAN FREED an unknown disc jockey tagged the new wild music ROCK AND ROLL DEAN MARTIN sang AIN'T THAT A KICK IN THE HEAD and somewhere  along my musicial journey  I heard the great piano mover and confess  I watched all of his films  MARIO LANZA formed and shaped my love for opera with BE MY LOVE for no one else can fill this yearning ,I went out and brought an album of the wonderful singer actor activist HARRY BELAFONTE and freely admit that during that time I was a teenager with limited funds but saved up the money just so that I could hear  BELAFONTE sing SCARLETT RIBBONS  and the infectious DAY O sunlight come and me want to go home come mr  tally man tally me bananas and than QUINCY JONES known as Q  wrote the theme for SANFORD AND SON and produced THE FRESH PRINCE OF BELAIR starring WILL SMITH ,WE ARE  THE WORLD AND OFF THE BLOCK ISAAC HAYES black tall barechested  draped in gold chains won an OSCAR for singing and composing SHAFT which was before he acted in TRUCK TURNER  IKE also sang I STAND  ACCUSED of loving you to much and I hope that you don't mind PAUL ROBSON in deep bass  sang OLD MAN RIVER in his career he was a lawyer actor scholar outstanding athlete singer  finally THE BIG BOPPER sang CHANTILLY LACE and a pretty face and a pony tale hanging down he died to soon in a plane crash along with RICHIE VALENS and BUDDY HOLLY who sang THAT WILL BE THE DAY

Strumming like a metronome
the feeling sinks like yesterday -
or Tuesday
maybe even Sunday.

It's all the same.

The days end in Y
and God still sits on the *******
reading Newsweek.

If he runs out of paper,
I pity the Watchtower.
It might come out with
post traumatic stress disorder.

Self awareness is the currency here
but all the mirrors are smashed,
or covered in grime.

The question remains;
When you're not sophisticated enough for here
and too sophisticated for there,
Where do you go?

I love the security
of the way we drink tonight.
I love the ambiguity
of the way we say hello
and the manner in which your taste
like the first drop of wine
sets my standard on broken edge
and my teeth are praying.

The roses in your eyes
the truth in your lies
come from the same place.
Lets just hope you know this
the way I do.

I wonder where the local rock stars
get their rhythm,
if they didnt pay for it
they surely stole it
from Bob, Simon and the rest.

Never trust a man who doesnt drink,
when he ***** a guitar into song.

You can hear it moan and crackle
as its heart seems to crumble
there in his sober hands.

If only I knew what he meant
by this adultery
he might make a dollar out of me.
But since he coats himself in mystery
a poor man pays not a cent
for a taste of his $2 life.

The Big Bopper got *****
by the ghost of Heath Ledger.
Somehow I think it made him smile.

I'm Not surprised;
all shock has worn off in subtlety.

Skippy hopper
One leg bopper
The wife's my shopper
Food for grasshoppers!
I will eat like a Piggie
Today when I eat some Piggie
Gonna have to digalig biggie
A hole
For the piggie
Bones

Up pops the blue hat out of his hole
Bop goes the bopper on in the game called
Whack a mole.

Its a teasing game. And a game of chance
If you stand out from
The group and pack.
Chances are you are gonna get whacked.

But that is the price that one must pay
If you plan to succeeed and go on your way.

Standing pat or sitting still can work at times
And keep one safe.
Standing your ground is sound stratigy.
But what works fory ou may not work for me.

I'm reading,
My third book this week,
I'm eating,
Swallowing literature whole,
One after the other,
A light snack,
(Teeny bopper, singletons)
But sometimes those stories don't satisfy.
(Poe, Cummings,)
Oh,
The list grows,
Like vegetables,
In a garden of wonder,
I wonder,
How many I can devour..
Before I explode.

To have an affair ... is different than to cheat
cheating is bad but the affair has it beat
My affair, not one that had been planned
It's something i'm ashamed of ...
I musn't ... I cant.
the pushy counselor pressuring me to talk, let it out, she predicts that it'll fell good ...
she has no idea what's about to come out of this messy confession. an affair, coming from under the trunk of this hood.
i'll be the first to testify of it's illusion
opposite of its face value,
misery and loneliness will be the only winner.
Like dying and going to the medium place where utopia does not exist, contingent to utopia's disappearance it only makes sense that hell would delete itself as well?
haven't we longed for the day when there'd be no such thing as hell? Then we'd be free?
Life's twisted humor,
everything has an opposite, an article of faith
being positioned isn't possible without opposition to accompany its lifeless soul,
It preys on the thriving, takes from the present, holds the living hostage as it meets up with  fear and justice, freedom and sadness. birthing the first of many to come,
dicontentment is born and swooned and rocked, fed and held, growing so strong
these thoughts in my mind ...?
you see,
i thought were mine were mine that I could actually be SAFE for ONCE the only place i am safe and free of interference, has been compromised...
discontentment has spread like a wildfire this morning, the remains the evident unsupervised testimony.
and as conciousness demanded an invite inside my mind, I insisted i would clean and make space first, denying my insistence of alone time.
i opened the door, my body quickly analyzed a familiarly foreign emotion,
My mind, the mitochondria, could detect a feeling like this in a crowd of a million waldo's,
This home has felt plenty of drive by emotions all of which fall sorrowfully short,
Relief, one  emotion i've never known well, but good enough to  consider an aquantaince, My higher self, the God dwelling in me
is only awaken by my ego's alarm going off at the maximum volume alotted,
My ego has always disappointed me and always will, a true representation of its impulsiveness no awareness of self control
Demons survive,(yes survive) the lowest level of vibration due to it's subsisting unvarnished truth,
shame and survival are the vibrational levels of those who die,
living and surviving,
"He who is slow to wrath has great understanding,
and unlike my actions, he who is impulsive exalts folly"
God says it himself, a fool will never see the gates
those pearly gates, I pray, will be a presentiment that the abuse i've endured on earth has always been accounted for.  I pray my damaged,not to mention, and terribly fragile sixteen year old learns to stand up for herself.
I'm sorry for the fear I put her through and all the criticism, My God i don't even think it's normal the tight leash i set before my, adolescent at the time
I snap out of what seemed like a continuous paralysis where i cant stop vomiting out my emotions.,
"I feel .... not good amie,"
Of course this is your ego denouncing its reign, you better believe it's stopping it's feet like mad,
I get what you're getting at Doc, but that's not the case for me,I work in recovery so i know how tough it can be to let go of ego's control.
If it isn't you ... tell me more about your sixteen self, what happened to you? why are you sorry to her? How did you hurt her?
the real inquiry to be at is, was that you that hurt her? you an innocent teeny bopper,
I know you don't see yourself as innocent,because you felt all grown up,
or maybe you've felt misunderstood since a child which is it for you nisey?
she notices the sting of silence,  must've been chilly for a princess like her
she probably has never known a cold night, i think and quickly think better of, once i feel the green-eyed monster creeping up, my enemy, the one i resist
so with that said it is the one that pursues, I know it is because I delight in it that it has an extraordinarily special control over my ego
"Or maybe, my sixteen year old snapped I am exhausted of justifying my actions to people who never listened"
I am the party that shame and depression loves to crash late at night, whenever they spot out happy with their
laser beam focus and their macular degeneration"
God acting as an Implantable Miniature Telescope,
as I unleash my arsenal of scriptures, he sits with his mouth pursed, his pursuit to relinquish his pain and hate, written all over him, his body vocalizing all the hate he refused to articulate through linguistic expression as his special form of punishment, wrapped specifically for me
I give the gift a home and take it as an
accolade of the abuse my ego thinks i'd win for staying.
water and oil.
needless to say, these enemies are not holding one another hostage, instead their proverb differing in hindsight,

Their moral compass, primarily, astray from the "good" commandments".,
the same commandments seen as good, although there is no such thing as good or bad, obviously i've had one too many philosophy lessons,
Now like every great philosopher I delight in inquiry,
It used to bother me amie,
surpising to those who know me as goddessnisey, my altar ego that is ingenious in its successful attempts at imitation of my authentic self, minus the flaws, has people fooled,
My inauthentic self, the one that needs to know everything before trusting, the one that misses out on opportunities because she let's impulsiveness govern her actions.
To that little girl, I owe the grandest of apologies, I'm talking like the kind the cops owed rodney,
the one's that took hold of me,  Covered me in shame and loneliness, .
dolizing
finally got on top and now it's my *****, only thing is
now habituated by their entire nation of people go by the saying birds of a feather flock together, they do not associate, because they are opposite.


Where did this relationship go i ask amie, my,newly discovered personal guru, that i'm paying a **** load to vent to,!?
like the housing of my body I am inconsistent
personification live in the flesh, as absolute irony and it's downer cousin named realistic, tag along to keep this broken law of language a secret,(only writers will get what im saying)
GASP* a breath of fresh air  reveals itself in the highest light promising that if you choose your freedom, and reveal your secret, she will personally bring you freedom and peace.
neighboring discontentment,  I am a survivor of fire at it's wildest,
Like an incurable error the pilot finds in the computer's main frame,
I am that pilot as i begin to confess, called it a day...
beckoning for professional help
but they were not my doing
long time enemies and both close to me,
old-time cliches they love to preach ....
"you'd do best to keep your friends close that way it
distracts your enemies from the intentional tenure you have on them."
weighing my options i decide to speak, silence is death, im smarter than that
I just can't tell you how sorry i am, I told him
not because of what i've done
but because i'd do it again
His mouth was closed,
But he wasn't quiet I could hear him,
The sound of his heart begin to slow,
and for every woman out there, this is when you know...
heart-break is real.
He refused word of mouth but that did not forestall the howling of his heart, an injured wolf
true to character, injured, no forced deal.
His eyes spoke everything that his genetically encrypted ability to stay poker face, failed to exceed at
it took for him to shut his mouth, and just listen as he'd promised
we may need a doctor over here stat,
I know once I've told him that if given a choice ,
Him or her ...
he'd end up disappointed .
he had a way of upholding his secret self hate from childhood,
just like us all, carrying across our baggage, picking up more and expecting to climb mountains.
converting it into tortuous rituals and facades, he wears it across his chiseled countenance so well, you'd think this is who he is.
My problem is , so does he...
I tell HER about him all the time, in hopes that the buddhist teaching will be the key
They say what you hate is a reflection of what you resist in yourself.So i know he'd maintain face, at least until I got on with the confession,because I'd do the same,
that's the honest painful truth... an artifact in this raw and true moment, The highest self in me has decided I am ready
for yet another piece of wisom,
every year,
a new piece watching as if they were refereeing the play offs.
then i realize, this is the play offs I am the main star and I have the ball, the therapist told me herself, it's my turn to talk ..
worry filling the abyss in the center of me, as nervousness takes over my anatomy, triggering negative feedback and certainlymy body breaks down in an immediate cry for ventilation,
Then it dawned on me, I am the negative feedback , an excuse, a sad one.
Catlystic I am it's true, negative feedback, the return of part of an output signal to the input
blaming my conditional love on a lack of attention on your part ... wow excuse me for the foot,
the one i put in the door when you begged for my explanation and my honesty,
putting out the foot has been the biggest aid in our demise, I know how bad i hurt you,
that's the thing about a fleshy soul,
we tell our stories through our eyes.
so worried of what others think of me that I can't focus on
That's what's important to you isn't it? saving face i wanted to yell, but preserved for another time, when yelling could raise the stakes far past what I could gamble.
when we sat to write with a pen in hand,
a private affair began.
I' was afraid,
afraid that this would happen,
fate would force a baby shower that would give birth to the haunting of my heart, my secrets befallen.
As the doctor proceeds to clip the umbilical from my median,
seperating the blood i've shed with the body that is supposed
to house vital fluid but  nowholds senseless emotions.
l a gallery of clips and photos like a drawn out trailer that gave away all the parts you pay for,
  no way to express myself, choosing introversion over conversation... what a bore.
I was afraid this would happen because I know my death is timely,
gambling in these neck of the woods could cost you your family, primely... of course,
some of your loved ones may understand, either way
the other literature sorcerest's don't resist to spill the main course, guess what it's YOU.
This secret could tear me apart and feed me to the sharks,
parallel to satan, its only objective is destruction, insisting i like the dark,
a spell cast upon me of course I hate the dark, this secret can't get out or my friendly facade will melt like a witch dead in a pool of salty raindrops,
slowly burning the witch, as water was foreign,
life without literature is surely foreign to me,
my partner will be sorry if he makes me leave her
tantums, panic attacks and more take her away and a blur will ride her vision and taunt her in her maturity as the blur grows stronger
she will have amnesia
and once my partner finds out that she was feeding us, not aiding in our demise, reconstruction is to come.
like a newborn, failure to trhive, the difference between you two ? I need one to survive
My mind no longer would focus on anything else ..
this affair started between a muse and myself
He understood things without having to say a word
To talk to him all i needed was a pen and a journal.
all faithfulness adjurned.
It was a poetic journey as we entered another element,
a renewal of spirit and soul,
My partner and i would have to call it quits.
A "no trespassing" sign was posted and the door shut
Locked with no key, just us alone
no one to bother me.
It is in this affair that he has given me purpose
on my previous relationship i have closed the curtain
to have an affair is different than to cheat
poetry is the mistress
and has him beat <3

Buddy Holly sings in Neptune galactic pub



Every day in the after life, I
Come here to sing this great song and think
About my life on earth
You see, old mate, I was so very famous
And my death was recorded on the film La Bamba
Yes, it was a real oom life for me, oh yeah, yeah, oh yeah yeah
You see when I see my next life doing his wander
At the show toward the roller coaster
I always thought, I missed all my friends on planet earth
I lived my life down there to the fullest
And everyone went to see me play at the theatre
And I noticed that they had Buddy Holly shows still on
So old people like me, can keep me living on yeah, yeah, oh yeah yeah
As soon as I died with Valens and the big bopper
I thought I will never be a cool show stopper
But everyone who loved me on earth,can
Still see me performing on Saturn , Jupiter , neptune
And I also tried Mercury too, ooh ooh ooh ooh
The back up bands are better here
I can enjoy singing and drink my beer
Because I ain't the man I was on earth
You see, mate I was so immortal dude, oh yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
So now if you want to **** yourself, because you don't want to suffer
Think about the time you had on earth, and see if it is really worth it
To end your life on earth really, mate, do you wsnt that
Oh yeah, oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
So let's party on Mercury tonight, get down

Buddy Holly sings in Neptune galactic pub



Every day in the after life, I
Come here to sing this great song and think
About my life on earth
You see, old mate, I was so very famous
And my death was recorded on the film La Bamba
Yes, it was a real oom life for me, oh yeah, yeah, oh yeah yeah
You see when I see my next life doing his wander
At the show toward the roller coaster
I always thought, I missed all my friends on planet earth
I lived my life down there to the fullest
And everyone went to see me play at the theatre
And I noticed that they had Buddy Holly shows still on
So old people like me, can keep me living on yeah, yeah, oh yeah yeah
As soon as I died with Valens and the big bopper
I thought I will never be a cool show stopper
But everyone who loved me on earth,can
Still see me performing on Saturn , Jupiter , neptune
And I also tried Mercury too, ooh ooh ooh ooh
The back up bands are better here
I can enjoy singing and drink my beer
Because I ain't the man I was on earth
You see, mate I was so immortal dude, oh yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
So now if you want to **** yourself, because you don't want to suffer
Think about the time you had on earth, and see if it is really worth it
To end your life on earth really, mate, do you wsnt that
Oh yeah, oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
So let's party on Mercury tonight, get down

Some people often ask me,
why am I so perverted?
Was there a point when things changed,
when I got converted.
I really don't remember,
was it the first time that I flirted?
Or was it when I saw a naked lady,
no knickers and un-skirted
Maybe it was when I had a ****,
when my *** first squirted
or was it the time of my first ****,
and had my **** inserted.
could it have been an ******,
when her **** sprayed and blurted
If its a combination then...
I don't want to be reverted

I believe most people have got the same *******
its from their own point of view just a different version
they've had similar experiences and gone through the same conversation
They would rather be stripped naked with a hard **** insertion
Unclothed and getting ****** a deep wet **** immersion
It is not an attack of character there is no forced incursion
Its just an observation without casting an aspersion
Just admit that you would rather be on a *** excursion
Instead of acting with disgust without making an aversion
So come and get your fannys out and have some **** dispersion
have more ***** than your used to without any more diversion
Once your in that frame of mind don't think of a reversion

So If a lady wanted *** I probably wouldn't stop her
Even if she was all la-de-da and oh so prim and proper
I'll drop my trousers and introduced her to my 9 inch chopper
And hopefully she would think it was a lovely whopper
Slipping her my shinny helmet like a pervy copper
I'd bounce up and down imagining I'm on a posh space hopper
I would love to squirt inside her **** an exploding party popper
she'd get on top and warm me up a tasty toasty topper
I would want us both to ***, I wouldn't want to *** a cropper
She can **** my ***** wonker an everlasting gob stopper
Then we'll do it all again just like a teeny bopper
And when we've finished I hope she'd be a happy shopper.

If this is what you have in mind it proves that your the same
All you're really doing is playing a socialistic game
Your just pretending to be innocent and so ****** tame.
Not admitting to ****** feelings to avoid any kind of blame
Stop acting so refined and prudish it's nothing proud to claim
You should just indulge yourself and don't be so ******* lame
So pull your **** ******* down, reignite your ****** flame
Just stick your fingers up your **** there is no sense of shame

You may be of the opinion it isn't everyone's normality
And **** and **** and ******* **** are the centre of depravity
I think that your just delusional about your own sexuality
and **** what's classed as morals I'm not talking of morality
If you think your less perverse then **** your own tenacity
Your capable of the same thoughts your mind has the capacity
****** acts always take place it's not a matter of mendacity
It's happening world over no matter what your nationality
You may dispute my state of mind no question of insanity
I would rather have a **** and ****, to me it's a formality
And licking a nice wet **** its not just my own mentality
Well **** it I don't care if you think its immoral Immorality

It usually takes about 5 minutes for me to blackout
while sitting on the black leather on the black tar
going 60 fully there but not quite fully aware.
This is my third autopilot and so far
I like her the most because she has the biggest eyes
though she sometimes glitches and needs to be reminded
that even at a beety red light there’s no need to
jot down an idea for a poem, or even world peace
(The two are not the same.)

So while the road lines melt into a
side swept long exposure dizzy photograph, but
like the ones that move in the Harry Potter movies
and I assume the books too, the books I would
definitely like but probably will never actually read,
the photographs like living live photos seemingly
sweet memories coming to life but in reality
a horrifying knock off of the fly on the wall
except this fly could be your late grandma
in portrait mode or an angsty teen musician
stuck in a teeny-bopper magazine poster, and
as I am seeing all of these animated flipbooks
I realize, just maybe, in another life I was
definitely a Cher imposter but with a
better impression than she herself.

Then a singing sea nymph and even those cursed by her,
one of Cleopatra’s snakes, stuck in a life
without limbs, let alone thumbs
but a mouth to devour and ultimately,
importantly, perfect teeth.
I am not fit to be a pet still though, to be forced to
always listen and never speak never fully
understood, except, not being a pet
doesn’t even mean I have done or
not done those things I am just always
done and not done, undone and now done
with this drive and unsure of
just quite how I made it here, I believe, alive.

The gobstopper
the teeny bopper,
we
only came a cropper
if we mixed them up.

Now,
we get mixed up telling
right from wrong,
do we isolate, and if so
for how long?

Dave sat down. His favorite spot in Rosebud. A cafe with an old movie ambiance. He ordered his coffee black and pulled out his copy of Rolling Stone. Couldn't wait to read it... he was really interested in this chick now.

The music critic was Jude Harrington. Oooh dear... this did NOT bode well for  a teeny bopper. Any artist for that matter. The man was notorious. He could cut an act down so low they'd need an extension ladder to peer over a wet piece of toilet paper. Oh well. Let's see how CJB fares, shall we...?

WILDFIRE!
Can this Blaze be put out?
By Music Critic Jude Harrington

I'm going to work at this one. For once in my career I am at a loss for words. I thought I'd seen and heard everything. But Ms Blaze has me completely dumbfounded.

Uh oh, Dave thought. This doesn't bode well...

What adjectives should I use for this 17 year old girl? Prodegy? No. Too "classical". Wünderkind? Nah... too cliché. Bombshell? No. That would imply she flaunts her sexuality. She doesn't. Just the opposite, actually. Her latest hit song, Rosebud addresses the issues of teen ***, pregnancy, and even familial molestation. No, the name I would use when addressing a package to Ms CJ Blaze is Superhuman. She is so awesome as to actually be scary.

*Dave's jaw proceeded to hit the table.

Yesterday about 60 years ago, a plane crashed in the snow in Iowa, taking the lives of three legends. Legends that many of you remember (no pun intended) Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and J.P "Big Bopper" Richardson, also taking the life of their pilot Roger Peterson.  Holly, Valens, and Richardson had a major place in the heart of music, also in the hearts of millions. Let us not forget February 3, 1959, The Day The Music Died. Gone but never forgotten. They still live in the hearts of the millions of their fans. I wrote this version of Candle in the Wind specifically for this purpose and I have sent it to Sir Elton John to see if he will use it.

Goodbye Rock N Roll
Though we never
Held you at all
You were the tune
That placed itself
When our souls
Were torn apart
You called out to our youth
And you whispered
Into their brains
You set them on a stage
And you made them
Change their name

And it seems to me
You lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never dimming with the spotlight
When the new age came in
And I remember
When I heard you
When I was just a kid
Your candles  burned out long before
Your legend ever did

Many legends weve lost
All these years
Throughout the change
All our favorite superstars
But the song
In our hearts remain
I remember when you died
Oh the press they had to say
That you went down in February
With the others on that plane

And it seems to me
You lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never dimming with the spotlight
When the new age came in
And I remember
When I heard you
When I was just a kid
Your candles burned out long before
Your legend ever did

Sang the Big Bopper.