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Through the years of transparent existence, a void of illusion becomes apparent and slowly becomes nothing more than a side-show. The dribbling glimpses of truth fade like the bones of old. No man can create such an indentation in the mold of space and time that the observers at the end of eternity will render their imprint upon the infinite gaian consciousness and body of universal proportions of any significance. Even the earth laughs at such ridiculousness. The ego is a strong bind - it can create maya and attachment to such fantasies easier than a bear can find it's ideal location for a winter hibernation. It's a world of craziness, where nobody knows whats going on.
The man woke up from his deep slumber. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Squinting, he looked around, studying his surroundings and taking mental notes. His thoughts are ***** scribblings on a subway wall. His heart is beating, searching for a band to play in rhythm with. His soul is aching from loneliness and desire. His feet lifelessly surrender their position up on the couch and find the floor, shrieking from the cold of the linoleum. His presence is that of a bird with a broken wing still attempting to fly. He stands up and stares at the ceiling.
The room is small. Four walls of white, one window and one door. The window looks out over the grey city. The door leads into another room - the room most would call a kitchen. In the small room before the kitchen, there is only a couch and a blanket. No lamp. No television. No electricity. No electricity in the entire apartment. The kitchen holds no refrigerator, no oven, no toaster, no pantry. It's called a kitchen because that's what it would be if somebody else was living in the apartment. There are two bananas on the floor along with a box of wheat flake cereal. No milk, no bowl, no spoon. The bananas are almost entirely rotten. The box of cereal is on its side, leaking bits of wheat flake, resembling a dying soldier on a battlefield who's losing all his blood through the wound on his neck rather than a box of the West's favorite morning go-to breakfast.
The man is observing the cracks on the ceiling, along with various stains with no known origin to him. His eyes dart from one corner of the room to another to another to another and back to the first. Spiderwebs. Dust. Decay. A perfect example of life's ability to take care of itself. Biodecomposition. When no one is around to look after a house, over time, Nature will take over it. Vines will grow and overcome the walls. Rain will fall and wear away the roof and general structure. Winds will blow, taking blindshots at the weakened building, eventually cause it to fall. Nothing lasts forever. Everything goes back to where it came from.
The man now steps into the "kitchen", where he begins to study the stains on the ceiling in this room as well. His mind is electric, with no thoughts in the usual sense, but rather just a vague presence of void to help the ceiling stains feel important. He is the space through which everything around him can exist to their fullest potential. After a measureless amount of time, the man walks over to the sad bits of food on the far side of the small room. He picks up one of he bananas and studies it. He feels where it came from. The tropical skies and smells and earth of Costa Rica. There's a little sticker on the banana that says so. Each bit of fruit in the markets nowadays are individually stickered...for prosperity, one can only assume. Though it's best to never assume anything, and instead be open to everything - afterall, anything is possible, at any time. Likelihood and probability are also important factors in the universal constitution of existence. What was the likelihood that this man, when he was a little child, figured he'd be holding a rotten banana from Costa Rica in his hand inside of a kitchenless kitchen? Who knows? The man wouldn't be able to recall his thoughts from early childhood - he barely remembers waking up and experiencing the chilling sensation of early morning linoleum. In any case, everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, for it wouldn't be if it wasn't meant to be.
He slowly peels open the banana peel to reveal this brown, soft mush of tropical fruit. Just the way he likes it - soft enough to chew with his toothless mouth. He takes his time consuming the fruit, savoring every particle. After a good bit of time, the fruit is gone and all the man is left with is the peel. He takes another good look at the peel, once again imagining where this particular banana came from. Then, in two swift bites, he devours the entire peel - sticker included. He figures the sticker came from Costa Rica as well, and thus must carry that Costa Rican tropical vibe of health and longevity. His eyes then focus on the wheat flake cereal lying next to the other rotting banana. He bends down and picks up the box. The box is upside down when he picks it up and so the cereal spills out all over the area of the "kitchen" floor that seems to be dedicated to eating food. The remaining banana is now covered in wheat cereal.
The man drops the box back onto the floor and takes a seat alongside of it. His fingers hold his face from drooping onto his knees. His knees are keeping his torso from melting onto the floor. He screams with no sound. The pains of existence seep through his hollow eyes and into the receptors of his soul. He screams with no sound. He’s as empty as the American Dream.
The cobwebs are spreading from the corners of the room and are aimed for the human form sitting in the “kitchen” screaming silence with all his might. The cobwebs grow. The commuters of the city highway are commuting. A thousand birthday celebrations are being had. A thousand people sexually uninhibited, joyously seizing the moment in disgusting miraculous unity of mortal physical desire. Junkies are roaming the street for their morning fix. Teaching are teaching their students absolute lies. Governments are stealing the lives of billions and counting. And the cobwebs are growing, encompassing entire walls. The the ceiling. Then the floor. Then they crawl up the lifeless legs of the man who sits screaming in silence and the spiders overtake his body. They stitch his mouth shut and close his eyes with their spun proteinaceous spider silk. The man withers into the wind of time and vanishes from the world without a single soul taking notice. Leaving nothing behind except an empty apartment, overdue rent, and a number in the system of Western Society. His spirit cries sorrowfully as it flees the clutches of molecular existence into the realm of eternity and space. Heaven. He made it. He looks down at the people of the world he just left and sings a pitiful song for them. He’ll see them again. Afterall, they are Him. And He is Them. His Heart, the Sun, burns as the world he left turns. The lessons He left are slowly being learned. One by one. But still, there’s a space between the atoms, between the cells. And that space can never disappear. Without it, there would be no point to the story. All would be one, as it is, and there’s be nothing to overcome. No triumph. Just an endless loop of bizarre beautiful experience and pattern.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
This is far from a
car S-p-a--C-y
Oh! My? Crossover traveler
The Phyton
Top of the rank
New job space
planning tech magic cursor

Magical Podcast*

Do we have space
Sci-Fi-Hi Meeting
Googling creating playing
Cheating Overexaggerating
And faking our

Not meeting our deadlines
What is the right time?
Spacewalking on the yellow brick
the road you are my sunshine*
"Million light years away from being rich"?

     Lucy in the Sky
       LSD-Little space devil
No/space for Jack the shinning
of diamonds, this isn't Oz
Emerald City or spin-off

Climb the ladder space objects clutter
Posh-Rich Witch is which
The last epidemic standup comic

Crawling having a ball Spalding

That Spiderwomen kvetch
Wolftie face switched
Fox lies moms moon pies
The collision of the moon
Space monkey baboon
The equation or burning
Sun people in devastation

Magic God

What time holds the
Mass control Einstein the professor
The brain exploding stars
Study hall those equations

In Princeton New Jersey
Those tiny particles lost in space
This corporation division
Space Between_

*Hard paper scissors and
Mr. Rock

It's time to money pound
The Big Ben clock
"Do we act like the only
one on this planet"                  
The Singularity
The multiplicity
The burning sun
War of the Military
Hot fun "Twin City"
Medieval twin planets

She's brace-space and he's
Well known physic
energy flowing one
step beyond collision of '
     Two Gods"

Magic space-lotus love of "Venus_

The Mall of America Star Spangle Banner
Next International flight became a winner

Plants and animals
The primal magic
Catching the
planets there both
The submerging eye
Space-out engaging

The civilization nightmare
On the cusp right here
Martian stripe and stars
Wipeout species of mars
Gravitatious collide of lovers
Confused about earthlings
More siblings another planet colliding

Like a space odyssey ground control to
      "Major Tom"
Fe fi fun on space run
Our Earth Mondadori
Spicy pleasure taste for
Chicken Tandoori
Magical dish
Make a wish

Magic hands believing

Metagalactic space and time
Holy God realistic
Osprey someone is the prey
In the movie magical classic
Breakfast at Tiffanys
Holiday mind dressed up window
"Out of our comfort zone
eating to the end twilight zone widow"

The extra enchanted evening
For the Moms only
Our heads over space
heels hit the ceiling

Eggs Benedict, the salt wasn't kosher
Artsy Audrey Hepburn don't push her

Celestial Ocean Space Steven Universe
The Christmas madness sale
Poison Ivy Pointsetta what
a vendetta
Interstellar meeting her
new race feeling out of place
Adulation like a prosecution
Space collide anytime
can explode

Two worlds become tragic
Space station not a game
A haunting catastrophic
Collision Titanic ship

Magically got more modified
Needing a space program the
spy to identify  

Dragonfly to Madame Butterfly
Space of magic crime-space
All spots, not Dalmatian
Space wings set up for Superman
Magic fan rising adrenaline
Monster cookies for Madeline

Fire and Ice Global warming
wildfires now the collision
On another planet warning
Miracle blessing of magic
Someone before or after
just to touch them

We cannot stop this craziness
The outburst goes pop the weasel

Magic place portal
Something in the way
to crumble like a baby
firstborn rocking her cradle

The curiosity space philosophy
Like breed of cats,
Licking tongue envelope
The cats eye Egyptian
Terrified space milk the tabby
Meeting my space hubby

Microscopic became two dots .-.
Space became a new buried plot
Is this all I got Twitter
Home run ball and
New York Dodgers
Brooklyn bat *******

So compelled to the computer
Designed the Rover robot lover
Magical Elton John
space planner
Across the Universe
John Lennon
Bennie and the Jets
Like a science
Teacher's pets

Eyes spaced out the magic place within**
So sacred magic hat Rabbit
Mountain bear Airspace Hobbit
Roll over Beethoven
The dog bone playing space I tunes

The spaceship magic
fingers piano
Plays one enchanted evening
Let me see the beautiful
new awakening
When Robin sings
Her magical wand
Lights up the world
of hands magical awaits

Remember "A Poem" can be magic
Collison in Space or Good earth how do we collide into one another planet some fire exposed in our words can we change the way we feel we collide again but what happens when our planets collide
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
What if
I told you
not to discourage
The world and you

You're the part of nature
The very part to be loved
and captured

The world can be cruel not
meeting your expectation
  I want to encourage you

What we are not
We all need to be cared for
No-one needs to control you
You put you or not?
But your heart and soul
inside you
Was worth every
Worldbeat of a shot

Like an energy force

What we hear
let nature
take its course

How it got to you
But of course
Unexpected surprise or not
Another divorce
Spiritual eye
compelled you

To be or not to be
(The Shakespearian) dialogue
But what is concealed so secretive
Our loved ones
The world revolves around
(Many Rules) a dust of the wind
The dead ones The wild or bad ones
 What would it be without
colors and no control
The kindest hearts of souls

It's not very logical or practical
To use it never to abuse it how
another person transforms it
Solving the problems
Such a delicate moment touching a rose

And snap a pose Lady Madonna

Like it-or, not the Vogue space alien green
Your money is not always what it seems
The whole world in your hand
Feeling alienated mind polluted
The things that we are? Being Lifted

Why does a business make you feel
Nothingness the number
Well let's consider
yourself part of the family
We are not on this planet
to be right or wrong

How every molecule
 something clicks
The good earth Apple
computer console
All the keys comma, star,
how far will it go
So many deceased or not ever pleased
@  # whats the odds percentage %
The exclamation point! !! & etc
The addiction movies the drama

Fresh blueberries the sour cream
Not watching your diet what a dilemma
Those landmark cemeteries so
vivid not a dream and life to
your fears and dreams

Every Data color is the
warmest earth worth every beauty of color

Those homemade brownies
The revolving Globe
Her Grecian robe contemplating
You're the physical sensible person
Trying a (Sun filled) vacation
How it groves to shape right in
Healthy or not we were
born  to be loved

Our eyes see but they're
not clear not the friendly
Environment somehow mean

Or bluer than the sky clean
But "Hi' nice welcoming
Robin bird fly__*
Maybe it's not your true birth

Like a cry overflow

What do you know he knows
or she knows
Enjoy yourself your mind will be higher
Overly confident to feel pompous
The Showstopper word it nutritious
Don't underestimate
Who we really are the believer

Don't pull yourself back
with negativity

Accept the craziness
You're not the wallflower
The world captures you
every day cry or make it
your time to pray
Your head was spinning
with fascination like it was your
time of blessing
That European trip the
airplane pop of ears what is glory
Let the people hear your side of the story

The restlessness above all  the love
With such a will of ambition list
Feeling the dizziness

I know the world would be
a better place with smiling face
Show your hair with the
fresh cut daisy
The brightness soothes you
The Daisy my favorite
because of Mom
She taught me well

I will always be her daisy
What makes us happy
That personal growth we don't
need a wish just push forward
We were meant to do
this together
intertwined as both
Toward our happiness
What revolves around our world to see the world free or wild what do we really feel like in this heavenly good earth. We should kiss the ground we walk on or not is it really using up your time you are the one so worth living or not to find peace even when it's not what we need to resolve to move forward and love who we are
my mind is going crazy,can't stop thinking.words, phrases, sentences, thoughts, running threw my head. can't stop, my mind won't stop, life *****, work *****, bills ****. only stable thing is my life is crumbling,my empire wrecked. trains colliding, airplanes crashing, how do i stop this, how? it hurts, literally having chest pains, mind racing, heart beat pulsing, most excruciating pain imaginable to mankind...heartbreak.wheres my parachute?i'm falling.
if you use this please imform me.
first step

when he looks at a woman he searches for qualities that attract him because he wants to desire her yet this tendency creates an imbalance or disadvantage he is rendered weak to a woman’s beauty or whatever traits he idealizes self-realizing this propensity he looks away from women years of disappointment neglect change him he becomes afraid of women gynophobic


when she looks at a man she searches for qualities she is critical of because she wants to be impervious to his power she is suspicious of all men their upper body strength penchant to be in control misperception of women as property misogyny emotional immaturity neediness to be mommyed selfishness insensitivity or over-sensitivity depending she wants to be treated with equal respect a loving nurturing relationship she is suspicious of all people their alternate realities passive aggressive behavior co-dependence craziness


he sees her then looks away she suspiciously notices nothing happens they go back to their separate homes alone always home alone grown calm in resignation yet disbelieving of this destiny saddened by this fate both worry about future she looks at her face naked body in mirror her stomach churns feels sad sickening remembers time when she was more carefree he puts one foot in front of other then walks tries to remember who taught him to walk how many times did he fall who taught him to laugh where did his sense of humor go


he sees her thinks she is lovely resists the urge to turn away he smiles says hello she notices nervously smiles her shaky voice articulates louder than a whisper hi

Tucson 2-step

they are standing in line at a café on 4th avenue he is directly behind her she is lanky wearing white background faded colors patterned summer dress thin straps over bare shoulders long brown hair few gray strands small unfinished tattoo on left calf leather slip-ons 1 inch heals he is at a complete loss for words thinks to make remark about the weather decides not to overhead fan stirs hot humid July air barista girl asks what she would like her eyes scan blackboard menu behind counter she hesitates remarks help him i need an extra moment to decide he steps up to counter money in hand orders small to go Arnold Palmer half black current lays $3 on counter mentions change goes in tip jar thank you barista girl moves fast he lifts cup from counter glances at woman still deciding then at barista girl says have a wonderful day turns walks out door dawns on him woman grows hair under her arms his 2nd most compelling female physique adornment fetish oh god he thinks to himself should i wait for her to make up her mind then approach try to craft conversation at least find out her name no i’m too weak in this moment she is so lovely let her go


she orders double Americana in small cup to go room for soy milk thinks to herself he did greet her perhaps their paths will cross on street why did he run off so fast she glances toward front of café notices window seat changes her mind instructs barista ******* 2nd thought make it for here digs through purse realizes she left wallet in truck explains to barista girl she needs to run out to her vehicle to retrieve wallet forgotten under front seat the air on the street is heavy dense she smells her own perspiration looks north then south does not see him walks to truck feels exhausted appetiteless almost nauseous wishes she did not order a drink thinks to get behind wheel drive home go to sleep

Tucson 3-step tango

she feels disappointment by her recent writings as if she is reaching a more sophisticated audience and setting a higher standard for her work yet she is not living up to her ambitions her recent writings smell of her past writings too emotional the damaged woman wounded child she wants to write more introspectively with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence she slams her laptop shut decides to go to Club Congress for a ****** mary or margarita but Club Congress is haunted with small town cretins losers wannabes she considers Maynard’s decides Maynard’s is too safe suburban yuppyish finally gives in to thought of glass of pinot noir at Plush next comes what to wear jeans in mid-July desert heat is unacceptable perhaps loose fitting thin cotton white summer dress thin leather belt ankle high indian moccasins hair in ponytail no pigtail braids no ponytail no makeup maybe little ylang ylang oil no she thinks about her recent writings


i am one breath away from crying in every moment one breath away from flying m.i.a. in every moment one breath away from destroying everything there is beauty in ugliness beauty in decrepitude disease beauty in harm hurt suffering beauty in greed injustice betrayal beauty in corruption contamination pollution beauty in hate cruelty ignorance beauty in death we spend our whole lives searching for a good death we spend our whole lives searching for eternal love this modern world is too much for me over my head the horrors of this place are beyond words unspeakable voice inside maybe mom yells quit your whining or dad hollers stop complaining i am trying to smile through tears one breath away from giving in one breath away from becoming stranger to myself winter spring winter spring there is beauty in nothingness we spend our whole lives searching for ourselves learning who we are not finding grasping secrets from dark paths light trails winter spring winter spring i am one breath away


she sits alone at bar at Plush glass of pinot noir glass of ice water in front of her 2 bearded older men eye her from other end of bar she ignores them glances at her wristwatch tries to look like she is waiting for someone music from speakers antiquated rock standard it is early friday hours from dusk moderate middle aged crowd mingle wait for local jazz trio to begin she thinks about her recent writings wonders is it too late for love considers lesbian affair from 5 different perspectives 5 woman’s voices each describing same lesbian affair in 5 opposing accounts hmmm she sips dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water she considers a story about a gang of female bikers who ride south to Mexico


the Americans came through here last night crossing border illegally climbing over our fences digging tunnels beneath our barrier walls littering along their trail they travel in packs of every skin color carry guns knives explosives wear leather boots some are shirtless tattoos dyed hair mischievously smiling conceitedly stealing when in question murdering they rob our homes slaughter our chickens ransack gardens loot our harvest you can still smell the stink of their fast food breaths


she swallows the last dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water local jazz trio begins to play as bar fills with more people she decides to walk home one foot in front of other wonders who taught her how to walk how many times did she fall she laughs to herself

Tucson square dance

TPD 10-18 unconfirmed data report

7 post-University of Arizona female graduates go to Cactus Moon for several drinks and dancing then drive to Bashful Bandit for more drinks and dancing 2 women get into scuffle victim Brittany Garner female 23 years of age race #5 (Native American, Eskimo, Middle -Eastern, Other) 5’ 2” long black hair cut-off blue jean shorts clingy light blue top falls hits head on side of bar dies of fatal blow to skull forensics report crushed occipital lobe assailant Stacy Won female 31 years of age race #4 (Asian) 5’6” black jeans black leather jacket red helmet Honda motorcycle still at large

witness accounts

Jess Delaney female 33 years of age race #2 (White) 6’ tight black pencil skirt white sleeveless undershirt no bra 3” heels blond ponytail “that squirting little **** deserves everything she got she lied told Stacy i’m a ***** i never cheated on Brittany i don’t understand we were all having a good time getting buzzed and dancing we should never have left Cactus Moon **** Kerrie thought some biker dude might be hanging around the Bandit hell maybe the Bandit was a biker bar once but now it’s just a college sink hole full of drunken frat boys when Monique flashed a little *** they went crazy cheering and buying us shots it just got out of hand never should have happened the way it happened Stacy didn’t mean to **** Brittany it’s ****** up i want to go home please let me go home”

Sabrina Starn female 29 years of age race #2 (White) 5’8” trendy corporate gray suit black pumps red shoulder length hair “i have to be at work at 8 AM Stacy was drunk out of control she gets crazy when she drinks Brittany was trash talking pushing all Stacy’s buttons then Stacy accused Brittany of sleeping with Monique and all hell broke loose i didn’t see what happened i was in the powder room it’s a terrible tragedy unfortunate accident can i please be released i need to sleep this is madness”

Kerrie Angeles female 27 years of age race #1 (Hispanic) 5’ 6” black pants white shirt black hair cut stylishly short silver crucifix around neck red fingernails “when we got to the Bashful Bandit i was ***** soaking between my legs thinking about a cowgirl at Cactus Moon ready to **** anyone i saw fantasized pulling a train with those frat boys Monique had been kind of quiet at Cactus Moon but when we got to the Bashful Bandit she lit up dancing wild unbuttoning her top jacket Sabrina went to the ladies room to snort coke with biker dude Kerrie wanted but he wasn’t into her then Brittany started saying crazy stuff accusing Stacy of stealing Monique from Jess Jessie goes through women heartlessly she doesn’t give a **** about Monique Jessie knows if she wants Monique back she can simply fiddle a finger my guess is Stacy is half way to Argentina she never meant to **** Brittany i’m going to miss her real bad she was a good kid”

Ann Skyler female 28 years of age race  #2 (White) 4’ 11’’ green white red Mexican peasant skirt black t-shirt black high-tops hair in messy bun “i’m confused i saw them dancing laughing grinding up against each other Rage Against the Machine came on then Nine Inch Nails the room felt quaking dizzy claustrophobic then they were pushing each other shoving yelling frat boys cheering the next thing i knew Brittany was supine on the floor blood pouring out maybe she just slipped hit her head i don’t know what to think i feel real sad confused sick to my stomach scared”

Monique Smithson female 24 years of age race # 3 (Black) 5’ 9” blue jeans jean jacket cowboy boots nose ring braided pigtails “Stacy had it in for Brittany from the start i saw it in her eyes at Cactus Moon she made several clever toxic remarks they snapped at each other i never thought it would escalate to ****** poor sweet Brittany was always so susceptible i was looking down adjusting my jeans over my boots when it happened i heard felt a big thump glanced up Brittany was lying there lifeless blood spilling everywhere Stacy ran out fast i heard her bike engine take off in a hurry”

Rodeo Drive Tucson

matt’s hats tom’s tools & tobacco lou’s liquors fred’s beds frank’s planks bill’s drills jane’s drains & panes chuck’s check cashing cheryl’s barrels hank’s tanks tina’s trucks & tractors walt’s asphalt sean’s pawn rick’s rifles mom’s guns terry’s tires charlie’s harleys rhonda’s hondas jim’s rims art’s parts gus’s gasoline mike’s bikes frank’s feed gwen’s pens ann’s cans nancy’s nursery joes‘s clothes jess’s dresses bert’s skirts steve’s sleeves paul’s shawls michelle’s shells & bells al’s pails & snails sam’s hams & jams patty’s pancakes phil’s chili don’s donuts betty’s spaghetti bob’s burgers alycia’s quiches jean’s beans jerry’s berries anna’s bananas andy’s candies cathy’s taffies tony’s ponies roy’s toys kim’s whims marty’s parties jill’s pills rick’s tricks alice’s palace debbie’s disposal dave’s graves

Quinta Waltz de Tucson

she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary efforts she dreams aches to create deeper discourse higher insight more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration instead she writes paperback television trash stupid inadequate answers to solemn questions she wonders if she is too scratched dented to find love her ******* are definitely changing she is deeply disturbed not ready for menopause too young for menopause she wants to remain a fertile woman with smooth skin wet ******


her neighbor Leslie awoke to horrible morning Leslie’s 6 chickens were assaulted overnight precious Mabel dragged off feathers everywhere trail down the street other hens cowering slumped together with wilted necks 3 of them with puncture wounds Leslie carried them one by one inside washed their wounds hugged them cried who did this terrible act a neglected abusive neighborhood cat or some desert predator why didn’t Leslie wake to sounds of savage marauding now this creature knows hen’s whereabouts when will it return for more massacre what modifications need to be enforced to ensure their coup before nightfall


she wants to remain a hen keep producing eggs does not want is not ready to enter the next **** stage of this **** existence it was fun being pretty for men inspiring them to say do whacky things she wants to remain a hen she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary attempts “Tucson square dance” (self-referential) ****** bit about Americans came through here last night in “Tucson 3-step” ****** "Rodeo Drive" tepid perhaps the pinot noir lowered her standards everything is becoming nothing she cannot sleep tosses turns thrashes sheets in humid heat of her lonesome bed is she is too scratched dented to find love she worries for Leslie


tomorrow is another day they say the rain will come last year’s monsoon never came the baking sun smothered her garden died one by one sleepless she will miss tomorrow’s pilates class the infrequent delightful chatty breakfast afterwards she dreams aches of deeper discourse higher insight with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration she crossed the line tonight her ******* are definitely changing

Tucson 666

he decides to shave eighth to quarter inch length salt and pepper beard a.k.a. unshaven look he has worn for years and grow full mustache the whiskers on his upper lip are darker with sparse gray at first no one notices after weeks the mustache gradually fills evoking many contrasting remarks several women loath it several men admire it girl at grocery store suggests he grow Fu Manchu so she can tug on it shopgirl says he looks like Charlie Chaplin downstairs neighbor from Turkey explains most Turkish men traditionally wear mustaches he read mustaches masculinize and empower men especially men in authoritative positions he thinks back to the 1960’s when many hippie males grew mustaches then in the 70’s gay men fashioned mustaches then in the 80’s cops adopted mustaches he wonders why a swatch of hair beneath nose is so provoking examines his visage in mirror discerns the mustache confers a Pepé le Pew quality or European accent to his appearance he remembers when he was young hippie with many amorous episodes how his mustache preserved the scent of a woman but there are no women in his life for many years do post-menopausal women possess scent? he feels indecisive whether to retain it or be rid of it


she observes her figure in mirror thinks to herself maybe her ******* are not changing perhaps it’s all in her head she inspects the little lines forming near her eyelids studies her features for signs of aging hardly any silver strands in long brown hair she examines neck ******* arms elbows fingers tummy hips pelvic region thighs knees shins calves ankles feet detects subtle changes thinks to herself my ******* are possibly slightly changing turned 40 in March married briefly in late teens no children a 15 year old dog beginning to suffer veterinarian promises to warn her when the time comes she wonders why it is so difficult finding fitting mate men sleep with her several times then move on maybe she is not such a great lover perhaps she would be better if one of them stuck around perhaps she is a lesbian the whole ide
TemiDayo Oct 2015
Its starts with a weird look on your face
happy and sad grateful for a while
you are alive
then the cold hands touch you
Damm i almost forgot
she is there right next to me
as beautiful as she can be
getting ready to pout
you love her and almost hate her for it.
And so the craziness begins.
Shibu Varkey Dec 2016
Hours become days
days become years

Like the flickering candle in the wind
Thoughts pop up from deep within.
Panic the soul feels
maybe never again to see

So distant and close so near and far
Never within the arms to hold
Never to feel the coolness of your breath
Never to hear the pounding  of your heart
Never the flushing and the rushing

Craziness that you asked to be defined........cant fully tho
Debanjana Saha Sep 2018
I miss our long walks
I miss tasty food
I miss empty roads
I miss the right time
I miss the wrong time
I miss that I couldn't
make it right!

I miss late night photography
I miss sharing
every bite of food
With you
I miss holding your hands
I miss your tight hugs
I miss your romantic kisses
I miss our long drives
I miss our long fast rides
I miss sleeping next to you
I miss our love-nights
I miss our laughter
I miss every bit of you
I miss our craziness
I miss the sunrise
I miss the sunset
I miss the moon
shining above us
I miss the sea
I miss the hills
I miss flowers
I miss your essence
I miss the comfort
I miss your
face to face anger
I miss everything
Without you

I miss you...
I miss me...
I miss all of it!
Missing is such a pain but love makes it bear all. Just a vent.
Brandon Webb Jul 2013
He lights another mortar
and the dog runs after it
barking and trying to bite it
he grabs it's back leg as the sky lights up
since he had barely thought to look over
and the words around here don't reach his mind
his ears defective as they are.
He says something with his hands
something foreign to me
but six people watching laugh
and so do I.

His wife sits with her sons
her stomach wide with their third
another boy
she's gotten so used to talking with her hands
that her voice is rusty
and her vocabulary limited
but she's here as much as the rest
sitting and laughing and having a good time.

The owner of the house sits off the side in the nicest lawn chair here
a cup in her hand
we've quit counting how many drinks she's had
but she only drinks a couple days a year
and nobody is giving her any problems
and she seems to be able to be her normal self.
She had been questioning me earlier today
seeing if I was really a good guy
testing whether she'd have to sit at the table with a shotgun
every time I spent any time with her niece.

Her husband is launching his own collection of mortars off
with his brother
while her brother-in-law hands the teens the novelties
I launch off a dozen flowers
and a few spinny things.
She occasionally breaks her fingers away from mine
to launch off a flower, smokebomb or firecracker
and occasionally runs over to poke-chop her uncle
who keeps talking to the fireworks.
She always comes back and we'll wander by her mom and stepdad
(the latter always throws in some sort of comment
so we act careful around him)
and over to her cousins
or toward her aunt and roommate.
Occasionally we'll have to get something from the house
and we sneak three kisses
but we mostly just stay in each others arms
keeping each other warm in the almost warm 4th of July night
our hands both entwined
one of our heads always on the others shoulder
and in all the craziness
all the family drama
everything is perfect and she's smiling so hard her cheeks keep hurting
and she keeps telling me how little sleep she's gonna get
and I tell her I ain't gonna be able to sleep at all
Brandon Whited Jan 2012
Technology has been essential for ages
From the wheel to the computer
Now instead of writing pages
I will type essays for the future of my career

Technology, however, has gotten out of hand
We use it to cover up for laziness.
The television is turned on with speed so grand.
Yet you could’ve gotten up and it would’ve been considered craziness.

Technology has turned us mad
We can’t seem to live without our technology
Day by day we may look glad,
But in the end it will take over angrily.
My crazy brain is wandering through
the fields of wonder and discovery trying to figure out what to do
Not sure where I stand or whether I stand at all, I wonder what will happen when I die
Remembered as a slave to society
Or perhaps the king of change
But then remember I'm only me
Melissa S May 2013
Riding down the road with thoughts of you and our last conversation you said you wanted to kiss me and trail those kisses down and what to eat for lunch better yet what am I gonna cook for supper maybe hamburgers but I got to pick up look at those totally squeezable ones on that guy in his medical scrubs you can be anytime ...oh man speaking of doctors I got my first mammogram appointment ever and not looking forward to being squeezed and compressed... ya know my truck is riding kinda funny wonder if my tire is deflated may need to stop and get it  checked out... hello that guy is totally checking me out isn't he? and that is a no he is checking out my... truck...oh did I ever stop  and get the air checked??and this goes on and on
being a Mother has totally warped my brain..the rumor is true babies take most of your brain cells after being born. Happy Mother's Day to all of you Mothers out there who know how I feel
Ashley R Prince Dec 2012
When lightning has struck me
eighty-two times
I want to hear everything
and on the eighty-third
hear nothing but
the most precious of memories.

I hope I can recount stories
of our embarrassing proposal
and the angry Presbyterian ministers
performing the ceremony

because in twenty-two and a half
years I have never once believed
my grandparents loved each other,
but last night the second Julian
recounted he and Lavern's saga
of a marriage that ended in
four ****-ups and decades of
with the most agreeable disposition-
even for a man dying
of too much salt in his diet.

I only hope someone will love me
enough to eat bland food
and our grandson's vegetables one day.
Has anyone ever read "In Praise of Craziness, of a Certain Kind" by Mary Oliver? Made me think.
Leafar Mamede Mar 2012
The simplicity of complex
The pattern of disorder
As the thin line between love and hate
Between reality and dream
Are vulnerable, corruptible
The free will is a dream
The absence of submission is a dream
A dream of spontaneity of a rational mind
Conformity seen as a synonym of happiness
Nonconformity seen as a synonym of craziness
These paradoxes of synonyms and antonyms,
Of simplicity and complexity,
Of dream and reality,
Makes life seem to be already written,
As if reality were just a story
With all this characters not living, but acting
According to rules implanted.

The advertising of sensationalism
Or might I say:
A distraction of the cage,
A seduction for conformity,
A beam of war and poverty to keep us blind,
Drunken of sorrows of others
And to thank the Lord for what we have.

These are some of the bars of the cage
Bars to be broken with science and art and knowledge
Or as some may say: with craziness.
Euphoria Dec 2015
As the sun wraps his arms around the moon,
She craves his touch like it'll be gone too soon.
The warmth he gave was burning her skin
Caressing her very soul within
As they eclipse and darken the bright sky
She can't help but wonder why
After all this time, she's been waiting for him
But now it's here, it's not as good as it seem
Because as the clock starts to tick
Her insides start to feel sick
Soon the eclipse will be over
Leaving her mind with more thoughts to hover
As his lights touch her darkness,
She found herself in another madness
What craziness has fate brought
To let them eclipse for only a thought.
We eclipsed once again.
Kuzhur Wilson Jan 2014
2009 october 9,
Sharja, ajman, dubai**

Very early,
The day
Browses through the book
On suicide

“this wooden cross of poesy
Will control
The road mishaps
Of dream travel”
I told the day
That those are my lines

He laughed
Sunlight spread

Gave the book
On suicide
To the day

Let it get dark,
He said

A father for the first time
is making
His daughter
to the sea
Named after her

Why don’t you
Say something?

This is the sea,
Mother ocean
Mother ocean
Gave you your name

You laugh
Listening to the roar
What do you know
About its depths
Even your father doesn’t know
Deep abysses

Huge sharks
With protruding teeth

Keep it a bit closer, girl,
The low voice
Of a goddess

After your father
Dipped you
In the ocean,
He  wrote on the bank,

That the ocean mother is a thief

It was probably
Because she was scared of you,
This time,
She didn’t wipe it out

Who is this Ranni?
To which godforsaken place does this Ranni belong ?
Whether it is Ranni
Or Konni,
I have to drink a drop of liquor
After that, everything will be all right

In the perfect Ranni room
Of the one from Ranni
Ranni, etc

There are pictures of father and mother

You are blessed
The pictures of
And mother
In the words of Nazimuddin
Fair wife
Obedient children

Gave a kiss
On the forehead
Of the one from Ranni

Would Shobha
Have ever seen me
Except through the camera?
Mary, Mary again,
Must have seen me
Changing lens after lens

As  for everyone else,
I am a picture
For Shobha

No shobha
Has seen

Is it because of madness
Or in order to not become mad
O forest,
These missed calls

Those that were missed were missed all right .

In- between,
Trying to imitate
In your language,
I failed...

There is,
In Aluva
A Sebastian
Who vends vegetables

Sells anything
Except poems

And you?

All who smoke
Pine cigarettes
In the world
Are brothers

After I die
You should give
A packet of Pine
Along with the award given

Was the seller
In that grocery
One day
For one hour
In some moment

My pay
My pay

This kiss
Is this worker’s
Struggle with you

A struggle with kisses

I feel like living


See, I didn’t write this
Why do words
Come and look
In places where
They are not wanted,
at times when they are not wanted?

I will stab you
It will be over with a stab,
It should be over

As soon as a poem was over
Another one!
A lady says

Is it possible to feign deafness
when females talk to us?

But this time I fooled you!
I am not reciting a poem
It is reciting me!

Now let it think!

In the look of wonder and respect,

I become another person,

You are with your father
Even then you whisper
That you want to hear my poem

I have seen you somewhere

My children,
It is all gone

It smells like a cadaver
If I open my mouth

Do you know
How many people ran away?

First you gave me
A huge bunch of basil

My soul turned green,
But as I stand there
Thinking that you are so small - a girl,
You give again

An uncooked forest of leaves again

Hey look,
You are a girl

This kiss is on your forehead
I am not one who do not fancy
The private parts of females

My kiss is firmly on your forehead.
My son is a daughter..
Translation : Anitha Varma
Take this pain of mine
I don't want it anymore
It's hard to find
The answers at the door

I knock but no one opens it
It's like I'm left in the ******* lurch
How can anyone take this *******
And like we're born to die from birth

I try to let loose the hate
And find a positive way
But sometimes it's just too late
And ******* are about to pay

I speak from the heart
It's all I got
An egnima from the start
Been saved, been bought

Which road to take
I've chosen a lot
Can't find a ******* break
Craziness is the new hot

The choice has always been mine
No one else's are involved in this cosmos
I mold the experience I've felt inside
And it bursts upon the scene with a boast
hazem al jaber Apr 2017
Sweet dancer ...

dancing alone ...
a sweet pretty lady ...
lonely with her night ...
on her feelings dance ...
alone with her body dance ...
while her thoughts  ...
with some body ...
so far in place ...
so close so deep in heart ...  
she only knows ...
how to dance beautiful ...
to get whom she wants ...
hard beat the ground ...
wanna to get that body ...
who runs into her mind ..
comes with her as true ...
just to be the lady who him ...

oh babe dancer ...
how long you will be ...
there so far from me ...
how many nights ...
you will spend alone ...
alone there without me ...
when you will understand ...
how much i love you ...
don't you know ...
don't you feel ...
how madly i am ...
only for you ...
so, sweetheart ...
mercy me ...
only you ...
who could do ...
please do ...
dance with me ...
let's dance in real ...

so, sweetheart ...
let's get crazy now ...
let's feel this life ...
by the craziness ...
which it run inside ...
lets' **** the time ...
to fly in the other mood ...
in the another side of this world ...
lets' feel close ...
lets drive each others ...
to world full of craziness ...
to feel the taste to this life ...
we deserve this life ...
we deserve to get our desires ...
as we really feel and need ...
lets' get together now ...
craziness and share ...
to dance crazily dance ...

hazem al ...
Marília Galvão Jan 2018
He came as he was
And she, as he wouldn't have imagined
Cracks of her artistic nature
Overwhelming every cell of her palm
The fragility of an inviting craziness
Captivating his instinct for drowning
her impetuous gaze
Shouting a child's malice
The absurdity of her coherence
Killing him of laughs

He read her silently, she was the book that turns off the light
of the room
The reader's, drenched in the revealed chapters

Torn between the doctrine of his sense of justice
The torment of smiles caged in 'if'

Oppressed by an unfamiliar circumstance
unpronounceable desires

Ripped between her disarming perfume
His non-existent suicidal vocation
August 2017
Amanda Jean Oct 2016
I used to know things about people, it was all too easy for me to figure them out.

I used to dread the day when I had found out I've failed, when I couldn't save someone. Strange or depressing as it may seem, I'm glad I haven't had to attend all the funerals I tried to prepare myself for.

I used to know if someone had ever been touched wrongly. Unwillingly. How far past their "no's" were gotten. I can't do that anymore, I don't know how to help anymore.

I used to cry at all the pain, I used to sob myself to sleep. These days I try anything just to feel a single tear on my cheek.

I used to hear things without finding or ever questioning the source. I used to sing out my struggles to the sounds I heard while crying on my backyard's swing set. I still hear it sometimes, but maybe that's just my imagination.

My mom told me I used to see angels.  All I can remember was being scared of the footprints on my ceiling. Maybe they were angels, maybe they were demons. Maybe they were just early signs of schizophrenia.

Was all of that just preparation?
Was it all just a coincidence?
Is this real? Is it God's work? Is it fate?
Do I believe in any of that anymore???

Who knew that a conversation over cigarettes with you would leave me so confused.

Is our craziness compatible, like taking a drug together and having the same trip?
Or maybe we're gifted with seeing things for how they really are.

Or maybe its just you.
Maybe I'm lost forever.

I need to walk your path.

I heard sounds in the woods with you
But was it the same music?
Do we share the same insanity?

Tell me if its a blessing or a curse.
Tell me if its worth all the pain.
Tell me if I can handle it... if I won't **** myself first.
Does the light in everything outweigh the darkness?  
Tell me what you think about souls now.
Does everything live forever?
Can you still see their light if they're dead?
Tell me what you feel.
Tell me what you know now.
I want your truths.

This has to be real.

My world has been flipped and turned inside out.

But finally, for once, I think everything makes sense.
I cry for you.
I don't know why
I cry,
but I do.

My heart aches
for you
I wish it wouldn't break,
but it has, all the way through.

They say love heals,
it also reels,
and feels,
like you've been shot.

in the cute, cupid-like way,
but the day to end days,
crazy killer-kind way.

So you stumble,
and mumble,
sounding like
a bumbling fool.

They make it look cool,
the movies, the books,
the romantic wins in the end,
if they aren't lovers, they are the best of friends.

Reality doesn't play this game,
it isn't over, end credits,
smile, you can have the same.
It is harsh, and true, and we fight for it.

Have we all lost our wit?!
I would like to say, not I,
"I quit!"
But, alas, that would be a lie...
Fiakfairok Oct 2013
Today, I now know that she has a feeling
for someone else, but not for me.
However, I still wish that my though would be wronged,
which will never happen.  
I miss her a lot in me, I want her so badly in me,
she will never understand.  
The love that I have for her maybe just little thing
that won't help on anything.  
But I put all my love and my life on her hands
she will never know
It's me who should be blame on
for loving her so much.  
My friend told me that giving up on her is
the only choice I have
But I still want to wish that waiting for her
on forever would get a return.  
I'm too crazy now. I wanna go insane..
so that I wouldn't be in this pain anymore.  
I wanna give up on her now,
but it is my heart that can't unloved her...  
I wanna write, I don't love her anymore,  
but it is my hands that only know how to write,
I still love her.  
I wanna kick her out off my mind,
but it is my mind that only wants to think about her.
I miss her so badly in me..
She will never understand..
I'm still standing on the road side of loving her.
Äŧül May 2015
Romantic Hindi poem of my creation inspired obviously by love. English translation follows the Hindi lyrics.

Jeene ki vajah tum **,
Na marne ki vajah tum **.
Hansne vajah tum **,
Pyaar karne ki vajah tum **.

Tum **, tum **...
Tum **, tum **...

Aage badhne ki vajah tum **,
Mehnat karne ki vajah tum **.
Ab sudharne ki vajah tum **,
Masti karne ki vajah tum **.

Tum **, tum **...
Tum **, tum **...

Aashique ki vajah tum **,
Deewaane ki vajah tum **.
Na darne ki vajah tum **,
Saans lene ki vajah tum **.


You are the reason of my life,
You are the reason I survived.
You are the reason that I laugh,
You are the reason I love you.

You are, you are...
You are, you are...

You are the reason I succeed,
You are the reason I prepare,
You are the reason I improve,
You are the reason I enjoy.

You are, you are...
You are, you are...

You are the reason of my romance,
You are the reason of my craziness,
You are the reason I am not scared,
You are the reason I am breathing.
You are, yes you are.

My HP Poem #858
©Atul Kaushal
hazem al jaber Apr 2017
Delicious food ...

it's the delicious and the tasty food ...
that you ever get if you did by love ...
only by love , it only be ...
and never to be without love ...
it's an adorable position ...
it's created only for lovers ...
whom really feel the love between ...
it's 69 passion of love ...
( 69 ) some people might call it nasty...
some might call it ***** and craziness ...
but i call it a sweet tasty romantic dinner ...
for the ones whom makes it ...
for only lovers ...
it's a feed back from one to the other ...
to give back to both whom eating this dinner ..
how they feel to each others ...
to feel the love while both making it ...
making it by desires and passion...
through love and so longings ...
make it and enjoy every part ...
that give a happiness ...
and a sweet love for one to the other ..
to see how tasty this love ...
by eating each others ...

sweetheart ...

your lips were n't created  just for eat ...
its created also to be kissed by the one who loves you...
your ******* were n't created just to feed your baby...
its created also to ****** by who loves you ...
and your body wasn't created just to be a human ...
you are also a human to live your humanity  by love ...
by making that love by love ...
through our love ...
this love which we both feel ...
would you sweetheart please  ...
feed my lips by your sweet love...
then to share together our delicious food ...

sweetheart ....
it's not a ***** mind ...
that i'm talking right now about ...
it's a craziness love ...
that we could share forever ...
let's have first shower ...

hazem al jaber ...
Quentin Briscoe Apr 2012
I don't sleep,
You slumber
Your weak,
I hunger
For flesh,
Your flesh
that you will desire
I temp you with fire
heat upon your bones
send you comfort in cold homes,
I play when your awake
plan then you par take
Hahahahaha I'm what you want
make it easy or els I'll taunt
Come and join my craziness
These things will be your happiness


Forget the rest of life its Lame
No respect of truth
Lies Lies Lies
You all love the lies!!!
I'll never leave your side
No seat belts on this ride
HAhahaha I'll Win
Cuz all you want is Sin
So go head and close your eyes
Cuz You'll never sleep when you die...
Amanda fancy Jun 2014
When I grow silent is when you should worry

My mind is everywhere, so much so,that everything is blurry

even if I wanted to forget....
Not even my mind can I find...

I know there will be better days to distract the emptiness , I dont expect anyone to clean this mess.
My heart will mend and my walls will be strong
To the top I go and feelings be gone.
Onoma Dec 2019
splashes of craziness paint

the blood of the wine--

blotch and splotch a bed

tirelessy made and unmade.

love's fevered rouse bolting

up, bones not knowing what

hit them.

scratch that--they know what

hit them, hence the craziness.
Liam Oct 2015

a life I never owned,
a sacrifice I never tried,
a fade away dream
I never step
Lost in trail
craziness in a mess
blown away on unexpected things
I let go of the dream
I just couldn't

collab with Pax
Ahmad Cox Nov 2012
The world has gone crazy
There is turmoil every where
Divisions all around
It seems like people
Are going backwards
Falling darker into the night
Falling deeper into the void
Living with hate in their hearts
Living at the brink of nothing
Living with depression
Living with despair
Without an ounce of grace
Moving further away from the light
Every thing goes these days
Without any sense of control
Or consequences
People have lost their minds
And it seems to get worst every day
But even through all the craziness
Even through all of the chaos
Even through all of the darkness
There is a part of me that is excited
Excited to see what is to come
We live on the brink
There is a chasm before us
We are just about to jump
And we are about to cross
Even as crazy as life might seem
There is still hope, love, grace, and mercy
And there are still miracles hiding in the dark
We just have to know where to look
To see the goodness and the light
That is waiting for us to accept it
To acknowledge that its there
Once you do life takes on a different tone
It takes on a whole new beauty and purpose
You start to see just how wonderful and crazy times
We are living in and you can become excited to
Living with light and grace and hope
And learning how to spread that sense of excitement
To everyone you meet
What if I fell in love
With a broken down *******
Not because I needed to fix him
But simply because I wanted to revel in his beauty
The maddening craziness
Of a life
A life that didn't need to be maintained with perfection
A life where you could just knock down pillars that you didn't need
Destroy friendships that weren't beneficial
A life where one could disown one's own mother
Without the whole neighbourhood offering their tut-tuts
And their 5 cents too many
About how to trim your garden
What if I fell in love with a life
Who let their weeds grow
And created a garden out of thorns
A **** patch that would make those neighbours shriek
What if I fell in love with chaos and disorder
Not to right the tables
Nor to order the shelves
What if I didn't attempt to prune the garden
But I let it grow into a forest
And then laughed when I stepped on a thorn
What if I let the sun shine through the madness
What if I opened my arms to the destruction
What if you sung me a lullaby out of tune
And I asked you to sing it anyways…
paribhasha yadav Oct 2014
Waking up with the sun on your face,
Your little curls dancing on your forehead,
A hot cup of coffee, a smiling photograph,
Just beside your messy comfortable bed.

A walk just with your own self,
A whiff of freshness in the breeze
The beautiful music of birds,
The sighing of wind in the trees,

Good news peeking from inside the papers,
A perfectly grilled sandwich on the plate,
A goodbye hug to your mommy,
A bus ride with your best mate.

The joy of doing the work you love.
Celebrating little moments of happiness,
A loud laugh with your old friends
The fun and craziness of being senseless.

The sheer bliss of dancing in the rain,
And playing with the little kid
Realizing that this world is so beautiful
And how amazingly you fit in it

And In the watches of the night,
The night sky mesmerizes you,
You strangely smile, because you know
That a miracle just happened to you.
Amaya Danzy Jan 2015
I am from a place unknown.
I am from a place no one should go.
I am from him, I am from her.
I am from the dirt underneath the Earth.
I am from ink and paper.
I am from the thoughts they think.
I am from the golden snitch
to the Quidditch pitch.
I am from gumbo shrimp,
To pumpkin pie.
I am from the stars in the night sky.
I am from craziness and noise.
Yet I still manage to have poise.
I am from the things that make me, me.
The original poem is by George Ella Lyon; I just made it my own.
Arlene Corwin Sep 2018
Eccentricity Isn’t Craziness, It’s Daring

Eccentricity isn ‘t craziness, it’s daring
To the -enth degree:
A caring not what they decree,
Not caring what they think of me.
The unconventional disarming,
Often charming -
What is normal?
Living life like all the rest,
I guess accepting colorlessness.

Planets are eccentric
And the sun’s just doing fine.
It shines on planetary quirks,              
Sustains the quirk so that it works.  
We too can be a sun;
No planet going round,
No moon, but one
Unusual, bright son-of-a gun                            
Who does his ‘thing’ because it is
The only thing that makes things run,
The only thing that makes life fun

The misfit may not be a genius,
May be middling or bizarre.
Having said that, I give honor
To the one who does his thing
Since he sees through
The illusion, the delusion, the chimère .            
Eccentricity Isn’t Craziness…9.3.2015 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; revised/ 9.30.2018 Arlene Nover Corwin
Ilunga Mutombo Mar 2018
The price of admission to love is craziness

How crazy are you willing to be in order to prove to me that you love me

If not insanity, then please let me be
i Mar 2014
where all the craziness is normal,
where all the alcohol and drugs are allowed,
where all the parties rock,
where all the boys are handsome,
where all the parents are boring and wrong,
where all the 'first's' happen,
where all the unforgettable memories are born,
where all you do now,
is going to be remembered later,

*and you aren't going to regret
a single bit of it.
Mike Hauser Aug 2018
As I strolled  down Beaker Street
A neon sign flashed in front of me

That said "Only Serious Poets Need Apply"
(Blink) "Need Apply" (Blink) "Need Apply"

So it was I thought to myself
I can think of nobody else

As serious a poet as I

I looked to the right and the left
Feeling pretty confident about myself

And decided to take a gander inside

The room it was totally dark
In the corner was the tiniest of sparks

I did a stately poetic stroll in that direction

Feeling I might have made a mistake
This thought occurred a little too late

But of course this whole scene might just be window dressing

A voice said we don't need a poet at all
Just someone dumb and gullible

That's the moment in my pants I started messing

Turns out it was a mad scientist
With a masters degree in craziness

What were his dastardly plans I could only be guessing

I was grabbed by a couple of ugly thugs
Who highly dislike deodorant and mouthwash

******* and flown off to the smallest of islands

Where they did unspeakable experiments on me
In the first, second, and third degree

All because to insanity they took a liking

When it was they were finally done
With what those nut jobs consider good fun

Don't know how many walls they had me climbing

Daily now I plan my escape
I only hope that I'm not too late

When the opportunity arrives I hope I don't blow it

I find it so hard to believe
That this all has happened to little ole me

And Why?
Because of me being such a serious poet
Philip Smith Nov 2014
Life is a full cup of craziness
The answer is never to just empty out the contents of the cup.

Just take the lid and Shut the Full-Cup

P.s. Here's a straw for all those people that **** in this cup of craziness.
Just in case it went over your head, Say, "Shut the Full-Cup" really fast.

Inspired by youtube's 'Nigahiga'

— The End —