Somewhere between the age of 12 and 13
Kitty became a make up queen
Each time she turned up at the door
She’d more make up on than before
Her parents could not figure out why
She slapped it on, she piled it high
From orange ears to blue shaded eyes
From red lips to black butterflies
After a while her poor little face
Had more layers to it than a wedding cake
So she made some changes to her routine
Got up each day at four fifteen
Skipped breakfast, hopped in and out the shower
Which left, for make up, a mere three hours
This worked well for a little while
Until a teacher remarked she’d lost her smile
At which point in her heart she knew
She’d need an extra hour or two
To don her make up every day.
So she started arriving at school quite late
At nine at first, but soon midday
Light’s nice at that time anyway.

Then one day, a rather dashing lad
Offered to help her carry her bags.
Now Kitty thought he’d cussed her eyes,
So she slapped him and ran home to revise
Her make up routine, before she cried
And ruined her mascara.

Now this rather dashing handsome lad
Could not help feeling he’d been had
He stood there red as blush itself
And swore he’d fall for someone else.

Kitty meanwhile, back at home
Was swotting up on her skin tone
And trying every shade of white
To hide the scars of sleepless nights.
“I’ll teach that lad, that dashing lad –
I’ll be something he has to have
He’ll want me so much he’ll carry my bags
With weights in them that break his back!!!”
And with a slightly evil laugh,
Her plan was made, the die were cast.

We rejoin Kitty five days on
After a five day make up marathon
Her skin-tone matched, her bags are gone
Except her school bag, which weighs a tonne –
But at the school gate, something’s wrong
Hang on, where is everyone?
Oh Kitty, Kitty, oh Kitty cakes
That is an embarrassing mistake
You’re not early, they’re not late –
You’ve come to school on a Saturday!

Ablush with embarrassment and all alone
Kitty’s mascara ran all the way home
And all the foundations and eye-shadow pens
Couldn’t put Kitty together again.
But just at the corner before her own street
Outside the corner shop, who should she meet?
But the boy, not the boy, the rather dashing young lad
Who was sat on the fence by the shop looking sad
Looking sad, looking blue, looking ever so glum
Like it wasn’t that long since he last ****** his thumb.


At first as their paths crossed they were both destined
Not to look in each other’s direction
But luckily old cupid used light and reflections
To swap left and right with two moment's intersecton
The arrow was fired, the sightline was true,
Said the boy, "What a perfectly red shade are you!
Without your mascara, without those lips too -
You look even hotter than you usually do!"

"Am I bovverred?" Said Kitty, looking bothered as could be.
"Well you do look a bit bovvered if I’m honest," said he.
"Well I am a bit bovvered if I’m honest," said she.

"Why don’t we make up and then I’ll walk you home?"
"Then we can hang out and we won’t be alone"
"I’ll give you the pin to my blackberry phone"
"We’ll sync up our wardrobes and match our skin tones"
"I’ll friend you on Facebook". "I’ll call you at night".
"I’ll take you nice places." "I’ll treat you right nice."
“You will”, said Kitty? "I will," said he,
“But first let me start my repeating my offer
To carry your school bag if you can’t be bovvered.”
“My school bag said Kitty,” repeating the offer
“To carry one of my school bags if I can’t be bothered?”

Now this time, Kitty had understood right
So she took off one of her school bags, and put it down by her side
“Long story, don’t ask…” She said with a pout,
And she gave him one, of her bags, once she took the weights out.

So I've got this story...
And it goes a little something like this-

There's a girl that I hurt really bad on way too many occasions that I love more than anything. Pretty much everything I write on here is about her. She became the love of my life, and I told myself she was the one I wanted to spend my life with. Except I was a ****. She was going somewhere to an event that lasted 2 weeks and was really important to her and let's just say I ****** it all up really really bad. She made a lot of friends there and it was a great experience for her, kind of like camp is for some people, how boy/girl scouts are for some people, and she learned a lot there, and had lots of fun too. I was so horrible to do what I did.

At least we're young though, and there's still time to grow...right? I'm only 18, she's almost 18, and we both have lives to live ahead of us. I feel like I need her though. She treated me perfectly in our relationship. I mean, looking back, there's nothing I can fault her for, at all. I just got ****** at stupid crap that doesn't even matter.

Except, she's into somebody else now and probably thinks I'm no good for her. She doesn't talk to me anymore. Anyway, I'm rambling, I haven't gone to bed, I took a bunch of pills, am getting sick, and it's 7 AM...so here goes. This story is somewhat censored, though.

_________________­___________
"The Worst Weeks of Our Lives"

I met this girl and she became the love of my life. She took me places I'd never gone before and her and I fell in love like some people wouldn't believe. Ask my friends. Ask her friends. No, her friends probably wouldn't admit to it anymore. But I choose to remember the things they said. Kids were like totally rooting for us all day every day. We were so perfect. It was great.

So with a few mistakes here and there, (mostly me...all me, really) we realized we weren't perfect. But it didn't hamper out love. Nobody is perfect, right? We realized that. Overcame.

But then, we went too far. Her parents drew lines we weren't supposed to cross. Oopsies. Her mom really put me in my place. I'll just leave it at that. Asked me when my 18th birthday was, so she could mark her calendar as the "day she could touch me". Told me I was a liar. Husband in the background drunk and screaming, as usual. Except screaming "that ***** ain't sorry. He ain't ******* sorry, ******* ******* marking up my ******* daughter I can show him how to be ******* sorry"

Lots more. I'll go crazy if I speak the rest. It was a hickey on her neck. We didn't do much more.

I got really scared. I mean, they were brutal. I wasn't used to that kind of brutal. Psychotic levels of brutal. All of the sudden I became numb. I stopped being so intimate with my girlfriend. They told me not to come around their house anymore. I started doubting myself. If I was any good for her. She cried and cried. Told me how sorry she was. For getting us in trouble, and for what her parents did. But it wasn't her fault. After all, I am the vampire that bit her neck.

After a few weeks, her parents dropped it completely. I didn't though. I was so traumatized. I'd been getting flashbacks. Nightmares. So scared, I was. I kept avoiding her, not only her parents. I mean, I didn't have a car anyways, so the only place I could go to see her was at her house. She reassured me I was allowed. But with no contact with her parents since the phone call that changed my life I was reluctant.

This was around 2 months before she was going to go to a 2 week event. A special event to her. One I'd even wished I'd gotten involved in. Really, I did wish. I just missed the application deadline. Throughout the next two months, we grew more and more distant. I was harsh on her. I hurt her. I'd get mad at her and then call her and talk to her until 3 in the morning. I made her hate herself, and then she felt bad about me feeling sorry too. "You always force yourself to be nice to me just so I feel better, but I'm ****, I'm trash, I'm nothing, I'm so sorry" she would say. Most of the time, she didn't even do anything wrong. One of my best friends died at the same time her parents killed me inside, I spent all my days sleeping and crying and when I wasn't doing that, I was getting angry at her (and quickly regretting it), manufacturing conflicts that were completely unnecessary. Not to mention I'd had health issues, and my parents kicked me out of my house a few months beforehand.

In the time before she left to her special event, I really tore her up. I said the dumbest things I've ever said to someone in my life. I'd never even said such dumb things to even an object, or myself. Why I would say them to a girl who saved me from suicide (I was very unstable and depressed when coming out of a bad relationship, and getting kicked out of home) and why I said it all to someone I wanted to spend my life with I'll never know.

The dumbest things I'll ever say to anything that breathes in my lifetime. I told her one night that the "only reason I was still with her was because if I left she'd hurt herself" (she had a history of self harm, even though she's the sweetest girl I've ever met) and another night I told her "If only she were going somewhere important I'd understand" and lots of other insensitive and selfish things that I can't even believe came out of my mouth. I mean, the whole basis of it was that her and I hadn't spent much time together (really because of my own selfish fears) and I was going all *** on her testosterone-fueled-rage style for days over and over and over.

Don't I sound like a horrible person? I was. I was horrible to her. As much as I hate to say it, I'll probably make similar mistakes again someday - It's like relapsing - but I'll make every effort I can to learn from my horrible past and never be that person again.

So when she went to the event, I was with my grandparents out of state and I downloaded my favorite sad playlist (Staind, great band) to listen to on the trip.

Yes, seriously. I told her that stuff and called her event unimportant and then I went away too. How stupid I was for what I said. I should have been slapped or something.

A day or two after I'd left, I realized how stupid it was of me. For the whole thing. That whole time. That whole span, those two months where I not only neglected her, but emotionally ****** her.

There's a song called "Tangled Up In You" that has the most wonderful and intimate lyrics and I listened to it and sung to it over and over and over late into the morning (I'm talking 3-4 in the morning) every night for like 10 days and along with a song called "Right Here" by the same band. I cried myself to sleep so extremely ashamed of what I'd just done to her.

I knew I was wrong, but what I didn't know was that she was crying her eyes out wrapped up in (someone else)'s arms at that event...
I didn't know she was getting all kinds of love and support.
I had no idea...not that it was bad, it was good because she needed it.

But it got her to thinking about me, what kind of person I was.
When we both got back, I started making more of an effort to spend time with her and go out of my way to talk to her, make her happy, and basically, stop being such a ****.
Except she just got confused and conflicted because she was numb and falling out of love, because I was nothing that anyone should love, to her, over that prior time.

Her mom broke us up about a month later, after some...you know what, I'll just leave that bit out...
I told you how the first phone call went. The phone calls I got from her and her husband in the end were just so much worse. I don't even want to think about them. I went into convulsions and kept dropping the phone.

I went back to these two songs to help keep my sanity and I belted out "Tangled Up In You" every day in my car... so loud I was losing my voice.

I'd had some communication with her, surprised her at her work one night, bought her flowers, wrote her my true feelings on some napkins, showed up when she got out of school one day, when she was deathly afraid, and surprised her with a smile and drew a heart on her hand...

Her and I were on the same page. She still loved me. She was just hurt. I still loved her. I was just trying to make up for the compromised mental state I spent so much time in. I had compromised hers too. I needed to get her out of it. She told me she would wait for me. That we were in a speed bump, that it would all be okay.

So some weeks passed, a month, and she still had my back. As strong as ever. Her parents found out I bought the flowers. They found out I'd been talking to her. But...

Knowing she still had my back, that she still loved me, and that she would wait for me...she called what her mom did (in breaking us up, in our break) a "speed bump"...I was okay with it. I mean, I really wanted to be a part of her life, but man, her parents HATED ME! (In retrospect, probably with good reason. Shame on me for the things I did to her. Really.)

We had some major issues (mostly due to my inability to shut my stupid mouth) and I decided that maybe some time to ourselves to focus on ourselves and think was a good thing. She could focus on loving herself again and I could focus on becoming a better person.

I mean, when her parents found out her and I were still talking to each other after they broke us up, they blocked my number on her phone, went to my church and made up extra stories to my pastor, (told him I'd came and banged on their door at one in the morning one night), when I called to apologize to them they didn't pick up, called me back later to cuss me out and hang up on me, logged into their daughters facebook account and blocked me, then told their daughter that I had called them when she was sleeping and cussed them both out, and that she was to have nothing to do with me again. They threatened legal action against me, too. Tried to make my life hell. They didn't want me around their daughter, ever again. A blind rage that went on for a very long time until every communication route was blocked.

She went to school and told her friends the false stories her parents told her, and her friends already didn't like me...I mean just look at what I had done before...it wasn't good. Not for me, anyway. Also her. She felt duped. Used. By her parents. She didn't know who to trust or what was real. Everyone was telling her how horrible I was.

I got a chance to talk to her one day. We talked for hours, face to face. Sat in the cold and talked. It was an amazing talk. We caught each other up completely on our lives. We talked about our love. Our past. Our emotions. All of them. Good and bad. But we told each other we'd always love each other. She stuck by me, and also reassured me that she always would. I left that conversation feeling so secure. The most I'd felt since way before I'd become a total **** to her. When her and I were so deep in love.

She's always wanted to go far away from college. She told me stories of her past and what her parents did to her, what she did to herself that were not good. Not good at all. She wanted to get away from her parents.

Meanwhile I was so caught up in the feelings she gave me when I was in her arms, I almost couldn't handle the fact that she wanted to leave. I pleaded for her to stay, in a time that her and I were both unstable and it was already taboo that we were even on the same property. But still, she said "she wanted to stay" because her and I work so well together...when we work together, that is, and I and her were both determined to work together. I told her I would do anything for her. In all of it though, I told her that the decision was in her hands and I would still love her the same if she left, and that I would wait for her. Because I loved her more than anything.

After that talk, things got quiet. I guess, too quiet. I was legally bound to stay away from her. I talked to someone she worked with and asked them to tell her hello for me. I thought though, we were on good terms following the talk, I thought she'd be elated to hear from me.

She never responded.

One day, a couple weeks later, she told me I really needed to get over her. That she didn't love me like that anymore. She told me she'd been falling out of love since the summer, and she'd gone crazy and needed space. She said she wanted to be friends, but no relationship. No relationship anymore. She said she couldn't handle it. She said she couldn't handle a relationship in general.

She made that message a bit accusatory. I'd been talking to two friends, one who I'd known for years and a new one I'd just made. Both overlapping friends with hers. Those two helped keep me sane.

She started that message with "I heard you've been messaging my friends, and to be honest, I haven't had the heart to message you back." She repeated multiple times that I needed to get over her. She told me that it wasn't anyone else's influence too. She even listed people. People who'd separated us. Hurt me. Hurt her, in a way, but encouraged her in others.

At the same time, she blocked me on facebook again. She had unblocked me when she found out her parents did it for her. Odd though...I thought she wanted to be friends. I mean, it was like the only way I was able to have her in my life at all. To read her facebook posts and her read mine. To have discussions with friends. We have a lot of overlapping friends.

Man, she killed me. One second I thought she was my soul mate and the next I was in the bathroom puking my guts out because she was telling me we'd never be together again.


So fast forward to today...I still love her. And she's basically in a relationship with someone else. She's also either on the fence about her sexuality, or decided she doesn't like boys anymore. I feel bad about that too. Its like I ruined male relationships for her. It's only been a few weeks since she told me I needed to get over her. She doesn't talk to me anymore. I go to high school events even though I graduated last year just to see her. When I don't approach her, she ignores me. I'm just another person in the room. When I do approach her, she has such a scared look on her face. She doesn't want to talk to me, but she can't be mean to me. She's falling in love with someone else and she's getting happier. She doesn't need me showing up everywhere just to depress her.

Yet I keep bothering her. Because I'm a sucker for her. I can't help it. I love her. I want her to be my future. But at this point I'm grasping at straws. So hard. I shouldn't be trying anymore. But I'll end up trying until the day I die. And only then will I stop believing in her and I. I know it's a pipe dream. But I'll hold onto it. Because it's the only thing I have left of myself now.

Last night, (I mean, right before I wrote this around 5 AM, it is now 8 AM) I played those two songs again. I forgot they were at the end of my playlist and I started shivering and crying my eyes out. I got chills. I got so cold. The tears just ran. They ran down my face faster than I've cried in a long, long time.

I'm only okay right now because I took a bunch of pills. Pills that have this kind of effect on me. They make me kind of numb. Kind of happy. Upper and downer both.

That's pretty much, my sad ending to a sad story.
I'm living the kind of life that only people like Shane Koyczan know how to explain to people.

Ironically, she loves Shane Koyczan.
I do too.
We grew up in broken homes and lived broken lives until we found each other.
Then we broke each other.

But she's falling for someone else, because I wasn't what I should have been to her, and she knows
But she doesn't believe in me anymore, the way I believe in her...because I wasn't what I should have been to her, and she can't hold onto me when I'm a 50/50 chance, of bringing her down again.
If only she would let me hug her again, kiss her one more time...I could die happy, knowing I poured all my heart and soul out into that last kiss.
But I'm a gamble. And she can't put her heart out on the line for someone who wasn't always good to her. She used to call me her "sweet boy" and she still tells me I'll always be her "sweet boy", but the fact of the matter is, it doesn't cut it to only be sweet s

(I)

Whose coat is this? Sure as hell isn't my coat. I ain't got no coat with this parka ****, it's *******. I ain't no furry flamin' ******. I ain't no ****** chochy Molly-May-Ze-**** chokin' down chickens and nasalin' a'sniffin' snortin' nasty-*** choch; that ain't me. That ain't me. Look at this coat– I'm like an Eskimo *****. I'm like a butch-**** bull-**** crotch-lappin' a'swimmin' laps in that guy's swimmin' pool. Who's that guy? Who owns that guy? 'Ey, anyone here the owner of this guy– guy ain't got no owner? Whose coat is this? It's nice, real nice. Bet she said, "Does it come from France? Where do I buy one?" I want to buy one, I think I need to buy **** more. I sure as hell need to buy one of these. "And I need one these too and one of them too and I need a petticoat and a tipper-tapper and a whimpratic garfielder and one of them new bartlemores, I need more of them bartlemores. I need more, more, more, more, more, more..." That ain't enough. ****'s from France. ****'s from Paris, that's romantic. You think I'm romantic? I eat hearts for dinner, I chew down nails like nuts for my midnight snack. I smoke cigarettes and spit on concrete slabs, you think that's ****? I'll show you ****. I'll show you Paris, New York City, Rome, romance you in Rome. I'll get real ******' Roman. I'll take you to the desert and make love to you. That's how a free man does a woman, and I'm a real free man. Who's ownin' this guy? It ain't you, it ain't me. I don't own you, you don't own me. I'm a free man:

I said,
"Fire and wood, fire and wood, fire and wood. It is late, it is late, it is far, far too late."

I set
fire to wood, fire to wood; feel that fire fired fresh from that firewood.

I dug the pit,
he gathered the wood,
she started the fire.

She really does make that fire start.

O' how she makes that fire burn,
O' how the wood's wrapped in white hots,
O' how they smoke their smokestacked pipes,
O' tobacco teeming teenagers, tormented by and through youth,
O' adolescence, trending topics, and forget-me-not flowers,
O' old age, Floridan coffins, and coughing  cancers,
O' writers in the mountains writing to be,
O' painters and **** bodies in studies by the sea,
O' thinkers in their mindset, mindsetting the table for dinner,
O' tables set to bursting,
O' wallets so thick,
O' community,
O' society, our social games,
O' hope,
O' peace,
O' that I may be at peace,
O' that I may be content and pray only for peace,
O' how about them true believers,
O' how about that love at first sight,
O' sandstone. My sandstone. That guy sittin' on sandstone.

That's my guy. That's my guy. I own this ****.

Is a man breathing on a mirror the sum of his breaths?
Breaths foggin' a'mistin' my view,
my view of a body and that face,
you're a body.
You're a workin' day's bell,
you're my chill in an Icelandic draft,
you're my spare in a Middle Eastern draft,
you're my pawn in chest-to-chest chess.

You've got this. You've got this. You own this ****.

And it is ****, too. I'd be set, real ******' set, with someone like you. I'll make you a woman, check this parka ****. Coat's mine. I'm a classy igloo runner, runnin' a'ragin' a'czebelskiin' meriteratin', I'll be reiteratin' your points. Check the time, it's late! It's late! ***** was in the grassy knoll turnin' trap tunes on her turntable. Would you listen to that? She sounds late to me, does she sound late to you? I like the music; I like the music. What happened to Woodstock? Where's my watergate, Nixon? Where's my generation, Ginsberg? Where's the meaning? This music's too loud! We're so profound! O' profundity!

Tell me something I didn't know, I'm craving' the new.
Give me the new while I spit on the old,
while I spit on this fine art finely art'd by and for fine artists–
******' fine artists. ******* fine artists.

(You can realize radical-realist realism but you can't be real with me?)

O' fine art!
What fine art!
Which fine artists are dead?



(II)

Looks like they're dead.

Looks like them ******* choked out all them ghettos, choked out all them rednecks, chokin' a'stranglin' by-God-oh-God straddlin' the breeders. I sure did like them babes– babes with their laughin' a'lackin' o' cynicism. They don't know the word "****."

I sure am forgetful–
I forgot that smoke doesn't dissipate,
I forgot how to smell autumn leaves,
I forgot to check the heart against the fingertips,
I forgot why my fingertips went numb,
I forgot to cue in the meaning when the sentence was complete,
I forget to complete my sentences,
I forget who you were wanting when you said, "I want you."

I got as much depth as an in-depth discussion, high hats and electropercussion have got me going. I'm goin' downtown, uptown bourgeois tricked me out, johns and yellow Hummers laid me down and cussed me out. That's not a discussion. That's not my scent scenting my towel, this breath reeks of wintry air– my fingertips went numb.

"I want you."

"Oh would you look at that moon?
Take a look at that moon.
Look at that moon with the ******' mountains.
I love that moon.
That's my moon."

I love darin' a'dusty dareelin' derailin' your dreams, whose dreams are these? They ain't my dreams– ain't no dream derailin' a'nileerad radiatiatin' some hint of joy or Jamison Scotch Liqueur. Drink that ****. That's my ****, I own that ****.
I'm sittin' on this stoop like I own this ****, like this **** owns me; I owed me. I don't own me, you owe me:

Pay up man, feet off the stoop.
Pay up man, be real with me.
Pay up man, you ever thought of a man as a man?
Pay up man, give it in.
Pay up man, give in.
Pay up man, I need you to do me a solid. Do me solid from crown-to-toe, we're toe-to-toe let's do-si-do bro-to-** I'm ready go, **, jo, ko, lo, get low… Now I'm ramblin'. You say, "Ramble in to the stoop and tell me a story."

What's a stoop– who's a stoop? That **** ain't stoop– you ain't stoop. You're stupid. You're a joke, check out the joke. Hey ladies, you seen this joke– joke ain't been seen by them ladies? I'm a joke. We ain't laughin' with you, they're laughin' at you.

O' hilarity!
Such hilarity!
What hilarious histories have passed?



(III)*

"I said I loved him once. I only loved him once."
(And how long once has been...)

I sure did like them hand-holdins,
them star-gazin' moments,
them moon phasin' nighttime nuances,
them fingertip feelin' a'findin',
them sessions o'meshin' limber legs unto steadfast *****,
heads cocked like guns toward the sky,
beyond the horizon
but well
below the belt.

Them star-gazing moments seeing stars seemin' small, I love how they gleam- gleamin' a'glarin' comparin' shine to shine, shimmerin' a glimmer shone stumblin' her way home from the bar. She's drunk. She's brilliant, brilliance of whit and wantin' a'wanderlustin' gypsy nomads- that ***** gyp'd me, no mad man would take a cerebral slam to the face lest them moving pictures are involved. Read a ******' book, it'll last longer. Kiss me on the collar bones, clavicles shone shining with slick saliva pining for my affections. You're clammerin' to feel me, clammin' up (Just feel me.) I want to run my hands through long hair and peg the nausea nervosa to the wall. The writing's on the wall:

The sun bent over so the moon could rise, chanting,
"Goodbye and good riddance,
I never wanted to shine down
on them seas o' tranquilities anyhow."*

O' what a day. What a day.

And the wind ruffles leaves and it ruffles feathers on birds eating worms in brown soil.

What a day. What a day.

And the men under the bridge gather in traitorous conversation of governments overthrown and border dissolution and poetry with meters bent out of tune.

What a day. What a day.

And the billboards are dry for all the consumers to consume, use, and review.

What a day. What a day.

And hearts break messiest when you're not looking.

What a day. What a day.

And the ego and the id and the redwood trees are talking. They're sitting **** in the marshes, bathing in the bogwater while fondling foreign fine wines and whisperin' a'veerin' conversations towards topics kept well out of hand, out of the game, nontobe racin' in races, rampant radical racists betting bets on bent, bald Bolshevik racists wagging Marxist manifestos in the bourgeois' faces, yes. Make it be. Nontobe sanity as the captain creases his pleats, pleasin' her creases and the dewdrops of sweat trailing down the small of her back– down the ridge of her spine forming solitary springs of saline saltwater in the small of her back. Aye-aye, guy's pleasin' a'makin' choices a'steerin'– government's a'veerin' a hard left into the ice.

'Berg! 'Berg!
Danger in the icy 'berg!
None too soon a 'berg!
Bound to bump a 'berg!
O' inevitably unnerving 'berg!
Authoritative 'berg!
Totalitarian 'berg!
Surveillance of *** and the sexes 'berg!
O' fatalist fetishist 'berg!
Benevolent big brother 'berg!
Homosocial socialization 'berg!
Romanticized Roman 'berg!
O' virginal mother 'berg!
City on a hill on a 'berg!
Subtly socialist 'berg!
Nongovernmental 'berg!
O' illustrious libertine 'berg!
Freedom of the people 'berg!
Water privatization 'berg!
Alcohol idolization 'berg!
O' corrupt and courageous 'berg!
Church and a stately 'berg!
Pray to your ceiling fan 'berg!
Biblically borne 'berg!
O' godly and gorgeous 'berg!
Ferocious freedom fighters launching lackluster demonstrations far too post-demonstration feeling liberty and love, la vie en rouge, revolving revolutionist ranting on revolution tangible as
an ice cold 'berg.

'Berg! 'Berg!
O' the 'berg, the ****** iceberg–
You'll be the death of me.

Laid here counting roof tiles...

two at a time

my eyes heavy
but my lids in denial
of sleep

she whispers in my ear

are you awake
then adds
good
with a grin

WHY NOT abandon one basic need
for another
why not rest
upon anothers flesh
soft and warm
scented with the promise
of dreams
insomnia so cruely denies

Pillow pressed beneath her back
giving support
so sorely needed
amid the punctuated night time prayers

God called upon in blasphemous tongues
praised and cussed
in unison of mouths wet and open

Sheets that offer no warmth soon cast off
replaced by heat of breath
and perspiration sweet and salty
to the lips
kissing
nibbling
biting
nails find no fault inscribing thank yous
in reddened ink

Falling back exhausted yet wide awake
as by my side
cuddled in she sleeps
smiling

and I close my eyes and think myself blessed
for every night the first
for we two
have yet to sleep
together.

cliche. click
I'm lost without you

you glanced my way and said,
"how do you know?"

I don't.
I won't.
I can't.

You glance away and say,
"maybe so."

Life's the test.
----
stand alone or be rejected
objected
the subject of the action word
conjecturing the meaning

Hector's pride brought the mass.
Was that made sacred? Yechhh.

Higgs's made real,  massive change
end of the world
as we knew it, 2012, mass means more than x-mas

The message in the messenger from Greece's God,
"Hold fast, hold on, Hector, be
hold-- what a drag"

Achilles, shoulda had anger management.

Suppose, Achilles's momma had trusted
whatever the protection was to be,
divine, that kind o' dad,
it warn't gonna let 'im drown.

She coulda just tossed 'im in,
sink or swim, knowing, in her inner parts,
the protector's promise,
memorized, since the red tent.

Pandora's last hope trumps fire,
and flood,

Wee Achilles woulda squirmed, and swam,
invincible, every inch soaked,

it could been, but, you know,
Achilles's momma could not let go.

And the rest is mythtery.

---
the sign said follow the money,

but money is invisible, so I played like
I could see what other folk
saw.

Lot o'them took time to tell me,
"Only believe", or "trust, and obey".
Streets of gold,
we'll slide back
down on silk stockings
hung on spider thread

above the flames

that boil the kettle in the center of
the whole round world,

nobody in our family ever once
believed the world is flat,

nor that Jesus once was blue and had four arms,

stop me.
I was wrong, I, myself, can imagine
Jesus dressed as Rama,
who was blue and had four busy arms, in truth.

hallowed ev'ening of the light,
settling sun, lead in the night, when all
see monsters, every where,

no one will notice me. Watch and see.

OH OH, ****** me by my pigtail, lift me to the third
floor, two stories past tellestial,
kingdom come,
which the mormon at my door testified
the angelic ***** had told Brigham 'n'em,

in the spirit, he agreed, not face to face.

tellestial is as close to hell as a Mormon man can go,
and,
he said, "If you could see it, you'd die to go.
It's so much better than this."

Joe Smith, said that, according to his agent.

I pondered,
chewed a cud, as I could recall, holy cows do.

I leaned back, put one boot to rest,
on the bricks behind my knee,

A modified Crane pose, I suppose.
I folded my arms and stared that boy
right in the eye.

I said, "Wanna try?"
"We gotta bridge up the road a piece,
sure as haell,
we'll see if it's a lie, at least."

Then I repented.
That hell imagined by Joe and all them zionic-messengers,
they was guesses, at the best. But the feelers at my door,
they was bein' tempted
to put their own faith to the test.

I grow bolder. The experiment worked.
I know.
Same ol' story...

-She said it tasted,
okeh,
first time that word was ever heard or tasted.

Cool,
****, cold, evil, winter, summer, sweat, mosquitos, evil cold,
I'm sorry!

How do you know?
What's blame?
Oh, that, and shame, I know that,

epi genetically be guile-ish. gullibility
gone in one bite.

Taste and see, he saw her say, or thought
he did

Like a switch, with more capacitance,
than the cells of knowing can resist,
in the first few months of being matter in time.

Knock a fella in the head
with knowing all the hows of evil,
along with all the why of not,

the most beautiful woman in the world,
no contest,
naked, and he knows.

Thinkin' straight ain't in the plan.
Precedent set forever,
no plan survives first sight of a naked woman after learning what naked means,

according to the tutor in blame,
who sat glumly on Adam's shoulder
explaining as the jist
of the story unrolls, "naked is evil,
you are naked", no word, just
thinkin'

good luck if yer helpin' him stand,
Wham

spoken words heard and
obey essence initial instantiation
revere
lionize,

oops, Idols. The idea of idols. Don't imagine anything like that.

Gabriel came with that very message all over his face.

Knowin' evil and doin' it, not the same.
Learn to drive and do the math,

Then we talk about artifice beyond the ken of mortal minds,
not worry,
it is written, We have the mind of Christ,

but as an augmentation really,
we can fact check,
but, honest,
a heretic has to use any augmentations right,
or the being powers will

objectify his reason for being, and reject him, for

the sin of defining the happiness he ensues.

You with me?
----
This was to be my comment,
but it called out for search engine priority of purpose

Nothin', I was thinkin' --
we never get trick or treaters,
tho' an occasional Mormon team will try to climb my hill,
then I un cussed my thoughts
with my inner self and we agreed.
He who would catch fish,
must venture his bait.
Net criticism's needed, if anything is to get better than this.
Wise ones say, it ain't easy,
but true rest,
I can testify, it's found along the way.

Hallowed be your even-ing, level up,

trick or treat?
not on that old man's hill,
somethin' weird, too peaceful there.

I woke up from a dream, in which I met an old lady, who was such a *****.
My grandson, who is two ate fish fingers from a plate, as he sat in the luggage rack at the front of the bus.
The old lady got off chuntering and muttering, that he shouldn't be eating fingers made out of fish, as he was sat on the bus.
****** woman picked them of and stole them straight from his plate,
Muttering, that it was disgusting eating fish fingers while sat on the bus.
"Listen here mate, that's wholly inappropriate", said I.
Somehow resisting the urge to punch her in the eye.
I cursed and cussed and I gave her my worst.
While my grandson, just sat still on the bus, still a little bemused
He's not used to old lady's pinching his food.
She got off the bus, after facing my daggers, just looks, as I don't often cook.
She had the audacity to steal his tea, apart from bits of verbal conflict, got off ****** scot free she did.
My grandson, he just looked up at me, after squishing the remnants into my knee.
My most expensive rain coat is now in need of washing.
I'm wondering now who'll be fitting the bill.
My heart melting grandson looked straight into my eyes.
At the end of this story, he's the perfect prize.
But he's still a little hungry, as she stole his fish fingers.
And this silly bit of prose is just a pack of silly lies.
Made up as the result of a dream, I just had.
Here's hoping you enjoyed my tale.
It's pouring with rain and blowing a gale.
Probably the noise it drew me from sleep.
The times when dreams are prevalent.
When fantasy from dreams be inventive and put to wholly good use.
(c)Livvi

[Verse 1]
In the dark , We come out and play
We are its children, And were here to stay
Running through , Hungry for strays
No invitation, take me away
Im not cruel, But thats still what you see
Club to club, Come see this city with me
Hungry for life, Without your pity
I dont want it, But you give it

Still cant say she wont start up
Still cant say she wont start up a fight
You go city
Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait

[Verse 2]
In the darkness, A killer awaits
To **** a life, And the lies you make
You do another, So this death can live
Just keep on dancing, To the movie your in
The smell of your sweat, Just lures me in
Your heartbeat, Does sing to me
Running feet, Beats my blood
My ghost inside you, Soon will be

Still cant say she wont start up
Still cant say she wont start up a fight
You go city
Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait

Hungry for strays, hungry for life, no invitate your pity
[x8]

I dont want *** but you give it

Still cant say she wont start up
Still cant say she wont start up a fight
You go city
Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait [x2]

[Verse 3]
Now its over, You've taken your life
The dark grows thin, And I'm left to hide
I don't regret it, But its sad anyway
Now were both dead, And scared of the black
This life of games, And diligent trust
Its the things we do, Or the things we must
Im now tired of being cussed
So go sleep forever end to dust

Writers: Nicholas Routledge, Michael di Francesco, Matthew van Schie, Tomek Archer, Alice Glass, Ethan Kath

Taffeta dress.
Pink bows and ribbons,
Plaited elegantly through her shiny hair.
Shoes made of crystal glass.
Azure eyes that allure.
Princes and spinsters.
All vying for love.
In ball gowns.
Feel the frowns.
The pauper descends.
Out of place, amid friends.
Pretences of sisters who whisper and moan.
Two sisters and mother that clamour the throne.
They're trying for love.
Met on the staircase.
We really don't really care case.
Sisters on ladders of heels,as they stagger .
Their mouths filthy as bladders and bowels.
Nasty creatures.
Vile in lust.
Lustful greed.
Maternal demon seed.
Stepmother, toxically crumbles to dust.
Crone godmother.
A quick sip of milk.
Cinderella my lovely became but a sylph.
Dispelled stepmother and daughter's that cussed.
Transport to the princes ball.
In a pumpkin, should maybe have been made into a sickly sweet pie.
Lizards as footmen, stood fast on the back on the coach pulled by white mice.
The creatures were shocked.
By the changes, all the rearrangements.
Built up with Cinderella before, a creature comfort kind of rapport.
Be back by midnight said the fairy godmother, she knew he'd really grow to love her.
Midnight came midnight went.
A glorious evening only lent.
She tripped on the stair,
Nobody cared, except the prince and cute cinders.
She lost her shoe, in a hurry to flee.
Prince himself picked it up, unable to believe in lady luck was meant to be.
He searched his dominions far and wide, just to find his princess bride.
All the best things found in fairy tales.
What do I find?
Just slugs and snails.
Yep, you guessed it I'm a bit of a cynic.
(c)Livvi MMCV

There was a small fly who flew in my ear,
All cosy and warm, with nothing to fear.
A harmless existence, though short on sun,
He beat his wings against my ear drum.
''Its in my ear!!'', I cried in shock,
Whilst those stood round began to mock.
ENOUGH of THIS, my new, near neighbour!
(The car key was ******,
in pain I cussed. . .)
But calm was restored with my makeshift sabre :)

Let Me ...  
Tell You Something ... !!!
  
My Nerves Are Near ....
.... COMBUSTION .... !!!!!
  
Cos These Days .... People ....
Seem To Think ....
It's Cool To ... PUSH My Buttons ... ?!?
  
Why Try To ...
Cross ... My Junction ... ???
  
Don't You ...
Like To ... " Function " ... !?!
  
Don't You Want ...
To ... Have A Life ... ?
WITHOUT The thought of ...
... PAIN and STRIFE ...!?!  
  
I'm ... NOT TOUGH ... !!!
But ... " Call My Bluff " ... !!!
  
See What You Get ... ???
You Might Get ... " Cuffed " ... !!!
  
I ... DON'T LIKE ... !!!
This ... " Weapons Stuff " ... !!!
  
If You're Gonna Fight ...
Then ... Do It RIGHT ... !!!
  
Do It From ...
Behind The Mic ... !!!
  
Show Your Talent ...
Use ... INSIGHT ... !!!
Leave ... "The Sheep" ...
To ... Their Own Plight ...
  
They ... " Fight Themselves " ...
They ... " Live for Wealth " ...
They ... Don't Believe ...
In ... " Mental Health " ... ?!?
  
That's Why They Use ...
  
" Slavemasters' Belts " ...
  
PUSHING .....
Til' Your ... CRY For HELP Is ...
  
"LEAVE ME BE and GO TO HELL !"
  
English People ...
Do It ... WELL ...  
  
"We'll push them into, prison cells !"
  
Then You Hear ....
  
"Your honour, he fell ... "
  
These Are ... The LIES ...
"They" ... Make Them Sell ...
  
Who Are ... " THEY " ... ???
  
What ...
CAN'T YOU TELL ... !?!
  
" THEY " ... Who Have ...
That .... FUNNY SMELL .... !!!!!!!!!!!!!
  
Those Who Keep ...
The Rebels ... "quelled" ...
  
Those Who SHOW ...
But ... NEVER TELL ... !!!
  
Those Who DON'T ...
Get ... Collars Felt ...  
  
I'm Writing This ...
Cos' I've Had A Bad Day ... !!!
  
But ... EVERYDAY ...
Seems To Bring DISMAY ...
From ... Bombs In Town ...
To ... FRAUD RIDDEN Aid ...
  
That's Why I Wrote A Poem ...
Called .... " Two-Faced " ....
  
These ... Two-Faced Fools ...
Really Think They're ... " COOL " ... !?!
  
That's Why They ... " Think " ...
They Can .... PUSH YOU ....
  
But When Somebody ...
... PUSHES BACK ...
  
They QUICKLY ... "hide" ...
and Then .... " Backtrack " ....  
  
"I don't remember, saying that !"
  
"Well Remember THIS !
You piece of ..... !"
  
"CALM DOWN NOW !
YOU'VE BUST MY LIP !"
  
That's ... NO QUIP ... !!!
and It's ... NO JOKE ... !!!
  
Those Who ... PUSH ...
May Just Get ... CHOKE ... !?!
For Leaning On ...
A Bloke Whose BROKE ... !!!
With ... NOTHING to lose ...
Except .... " His Coat " ....
  
These Are Words ...
On Which To ... SOAK ... !!!

Cos' Words Like These ...
Just May ... " Denote " ...
A Way To Keep ...  
Your Life .... " Afloat " ....
  
We've All Got To Cope ...
With ... IGNORANT Folk ... !!!  
  
"DON'T PUSH ME MAN !
WHY ROCK THE BOAT ?"
  
I Am A Nice Guy ...  

I'm ... NICE As PIE ... !!!
Until You PUSH ME ...
Then .... " Sparks Fly " .... !!!!!
  
I Suppose You Think ...
I'M ANGRY .... Right .... ?
  
So What If I Am ... ?!?
Here's A ... TELEGRAM ... !!!
  
Virgil's NOT The ... ANGRIEST Man ... !!!
Try This Name ... Let's Be PRECISE ... !!!
  
Marshall Mathers The 3rd ...
Eminem ... That's Right ... !!!!!!!!
  
Hip Hop's ...
Number One ... " White Guy " ... !!!
  
He's Cussed Off Gays ...
He's Cussed ... His Mum .....
He's Cussed ... George Bush ...
  
That Boy Ain't Dumb ... !!!!!
  
He Seems To Cuss ...
Pretty Much ... For Fun ... !!!
  
But Still ... He's Loved ... ?
Like I ... LOVED My Mum ... !!!!!
  
So ...  
How Am I ... ?
The ... " ANGRY One " ... ?!?

Because You ... PUSH ME ...
Like I'm .... " Dumb " ....
  
People ... These Days ...
Just Make Me ... " Numb " ...
  
This Is Why ...
I've NOT ... " Succumbed " ...
To Those Who ... Want To ...
  
Keep Me ... "shushed" ...
  
FOOLS Who Think ...
That They Can ...
  
.... " Push " ....

Today I watched your
lungs turn inside out against themselves,
the air unsure of where to go so it just
hovered
in that middle space between coughs,
when you thought you'd caught your breath but
your voice hitched when you tried to talk and
you started choking again,

I saw
that today, your
eyes watering as you struggled to
remind your body how to sustain itself,
you cussed between fits and asked,
"isn't this supposed to happen on its own,"
you wheezed,
"shouldn't something so
instinctual
be easier than this?"

You didn't sound like you wanted an answer so I
kept my mouth shut,
brought you a glass of water.

To trust the rust wrought lemon husk
To edge the endeavour far beyond cussed
Weft warped kisses dress un-silken chest
Cleft clawed viscera separated not even
by breath.
Dust dredged surface beds descry all but
the separation of legs
our bodies dressed in skin and flesh
our eyes undress what was left
as feet fold right to our chest
Remembrance seeds your rosemary breath
An eternal path gained through worldly deft
As voids are filled like celestial nests

'Twas the night before Christmas--Old Santa was ******.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks.
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works!

I've busted my *** for **** near a year,
Instead of 'Thanks Santa'--what do I hear?
The old lady ******* cause I work late at night.
The elves want more money--The reindeer all fight.

Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and ***** has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better
Those ******* from the IRS sent me a letter,
They say I owe taxes--if that ain't **** funny
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?

And the kids these days--they all are the pits
They want the impossible--Those mean little *****
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds
Assembling dolls...Their arms, legs and heads
I made a ton of yo yo's--No request for them,
They want computers and robots...they think - I'm IBM!

Flying through the air....dodging the trees
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees
I'm quitting this job there's just no enjoyment
I'll sit on my fat *** and draw unemployment.

There's no Christmas this year now you know the reason,
I found me a blonde. I'm going SOUTH for the season

There was an old man on my street,
Who resembled a pig made for meat;
He cussed and he drank
He fought and he stank,
'till a car squished him into concrete!

I went to the hospital and they said they were going to shove a camera up my ***.
I told them that I didn't want that to happen, I told them that I was going to pass.
But they said it was too late because I'd already signed the papers that allowed them to treat me.
But I didn't want a camera up my ***, I would've rather that they used baseball bats to beat me.
They shoved the camera up my *** and it went in deep.
It really hurt because the idiots forgot to put me to sleep.
I cussed those ******* out and they said that they didn't like my attitude.
But they disliked it even more when they had to pay me two million bucks after I sued.

Let me tell you a bit about me
A bit that I haven’t told anyone

Here goes nothing…

I listen to Lady Gaga
A lot
The smell of whiskey doesn’t burn my nose
Rather it smells familiar, similar to maple syrup
I love to dance a lot when no one is looking
And really provocatively
I doubt my ability
Yet fear my potential
I kissed a boy in first grade
But don’t know why I have literally hid this all my life
The book “Charley and the Chocolate Factory” changed me
And I never like chocolate until this year
I am afraid of dogs
I grew up with dogs all of my life
I really dislike my arms from the elbow up
But play off my flannel shirts and hoodies as a fashion statement
I bite my nails but not nervously
Rather because nail clippers make my nails feel weird
I watch ****…
No one really admits that one but most of us do
I love not washing my hair
But I hate going out in public that way
I love most people but pretend I don’t
It’s easier that way
I love the feeling of crumbling sheet rock
Especially if it is wet
I have cussed since I was probably 7…
I think I cuss less now than I did in fifth grade
I generally admire those farthest from me
They are what I’ll never be
I could see myself as president
But just as easily a stripper
I have to try really hard not to cry when I think of my childhood
Especially young memories
I have tweezed my eye brows
And my toes
I have worn makeup while no one was home
Mainly just to try it
I love eating raw sugar
Especially chewing it
I am pretty sure I was delusional as a child
But sometimes I feel like either I wasn’t or I still am
I don’t feel like people ever really know me
Especially my family

There is a chunk of me
Please don’t waste it

Just mahogany and horsehide glue,
machine heads and a ***** or two.
Plywood top, solid sides and back,
bone and fake ivory, ebony, and shellac.

Steel and bronze wire, to make her ring.
A well placed sound hole to let her sing.
But for love or money I played here every week,
for 30 years she has earned my keep.

Four star restaurants, or beer soaked bars,
or serenading a lover under summer night stars.
A joyous birthday, sad funeral of a friend,
she's always been there, on one I can depend.

Drunken'- Dancin' New Years Eve bashes,
barbequed sun baked poolside splashes.
St. Valentine's Day love songs, wine and roses,
or a smoky old blues club that never closes.

A nursing home sing along on St. Patty's day,
a hurricane party till we all got blown away.
Christmas carols by soft candlelight,
I've played this guitar most every night.

From Florida to Canada, Vegas to NYC,
from Frank Sinatra, to Conway Twitty.
Zeppelin to Bach, JT to Pink Floyd,
anything to keep me from being employed.

One night in Nashville Greg Allman played on her,
And asked me to join him, oh what an honor.
We make people happy, we bring them together,
when I play on her I am as light as a feather.

Some fell in love, and got married from our tunes,
some nights we're alone on sugar beach dunes.
She's filled up my tip jar, and filled up my heart.
Because of this guitar my life got its start.

I've sat up with her all night, when she was sick,
changed strings a million times, broken many a pick.
Caressed her, strummed her, as she dashed my fears,
cussed her and ****** her, as she tasted my tears.

With her I wooed my lover, until she married me.
She has been my addiction, and she has set me free.
They applaud for me, but she's really the star.
I know it's just wood and wire, but she's my guitar.
###====(==O==== )###====(==O==== ) ###====(==O==== )

*For my Takamine "Lawsuit" I bought in Nashville in 1982.

The first time I cussed at my mother,
The words ‘*******’ formed a cannon that exploded
From my mouth,
The recoil instantly punched me with guilt.
I almost doubled over,
Holding the cell phone in a sweaty palm.
Her breath shortened, a tight inhale of abuse,
And then a dial tone,
That held more reproach
Than my callous words ever could.

My diary bit me last night
It bit my hand then lunged for my throat
So I tore it’s pages to shreds and lit fire
My memories, some not missed, but most will be.

It screamed and cussed as it burst into flames
Thrashed and trashed its outer cover
While still aiming for my throat
I sat back and found another book

As I wrote I promised I’d come back when the flames died
The diary still wearing itself out
Other books said I lie, but my promise I would keep
No matter how scuffed up the cover turned out

In a little roadhouse off the beaten tracks is where I did find her.

She was riding with the hells angels till they kicked her out for being to ruff.

And yet at seventeen the way she could down a budweiser and burb hello ******.


Was a site to be held and i thought to myself

as she broke a pool cue over a man's head who played a song she didnt

like I knew i had met the woman of my dreams.


Sure she drank like a fish cussed like a sailor and hit like a frieght train.

But aside from all thoose good qualitys I like in a woman she did have her hang up's.

Its kinda bad when your first date involves knocking over a seven eleven and leading on

the cops on a five state chase.


And Im not bitter she didnt slow down to let me off.

Im mean the road rash wasnt that bad and I needed to drop a couple of pounds

of course it gives a whole new meaning to burning off the pounds.


And when I saw her about two months later I could tell there was something

there as she held a knife to my throat and looked into my blood shot eye's

and said.

Im gonna cut out your tongue out if you dont buy me a beer.


Yes this beer drinking spitfire had me at hey what the ******* lookin at ****** ?

What a true lady indeed.

Yes when i finally came outta a coma after that first night togather i knew.


That i probaly shouldnt drink outta open containers.

Or carry cash or major credit cards.

When going out with a five foot three spifire named Skeeter.

I guess it's the end of my need for some ****,
I guess all I got is thid lsd
     Gee,
but really what care,
I'm not even hear
teleport to the couch,
met a pink bear,
he ate all my hair,
**** In my eye he cussed not to cry,
MR BEAR!
mr bear
you think I wont trip?
one hell of a fry,
YOU **** IN MY EYE!
back to the room bad trip oh woah doom,
hit my head 'Jingle~
      ;oh yea and I'm single
hey mr. spider, lend me your lighter
back in an hour,
I thaught you died in the shower?.
itsy? bitsy? ,
I'm just rather ditsy..
wait why am i wet?.......................

all for one bet,


;)_    jesse *mckush

Perched on the plank seat
of the old wagon
the dusty man gently jiggles the reins
of his reliable old steeds,
they as resolved as he
to reach Archer City
to get booked up.

Larry was there with his white hair
whittling his latest creation,
an overweight manuscript
sure to cause a sensation
no matter its heft.

They sat together talking
til the fireflies flew,
shared stories of books
loves, and good bass hooks,
reaching down to fetch a fresh brew
when they got parched
which was frequent
as they spoke at length
of men like Woodrow and Gus,
how they cussed,
poked, and stretched yarn after yarn.

Larry’s gone to the barn
but the guy who pulled up
in that old wagon
still is reading
and yet yearns
to revisit Texas lakes
to fish bass,
visit the local café,
and eat a passel of pancakes
or a big, tasty chicken fried steak.

There I sat with a cast and black eye
Just got small children down for the night
Tim decided to take tots for a swim
"Over my dead body", I yelled at him

We discussed our views in loud voices
Continued to fight, made bad choices
Very soon Westminsters finest pulled up
Domestic situation, cops abrupt

Got both sides of story, mine in jest
Smart *** me, I was soon under arrest
Handcuffed, shoved into waiting squad car
Was ******-cussed at my treatment so far

"I want your badge number", I threatened the cop
Ill sue for false arrest, and no I won't stop
Assault and battery on who, on Tim?
Refused to put out cig, didn't touch him

Got booked, printed and a soggy sack lunch
Wore old lady ******, rode up in a bunch
In population still in cast with black eye
The word spread around that I battered a guy

I crutched my way across shiny jail floor
Eyes following me as if to implore
Came up on a woman, looked like a ****
Then she asked, "**** girl what's he look like?"

Got released next day, had court appearance
Plead not guilty with no interference
Set date for jury trial of my peers
Never been in court in all of my years

With public defender at defendants table
Jury looked at me as if I were unable
To batter, assault a serious offense
I was so small, this did not make much sense

I bravely testified on my own behalf
Brought up Tims prior abuse, hid a laugh
OBJECTION YOUR HONOR, spouted DA
Too late, the jury heard what I had to say

They filed out to deliberation space
Came back in fifteen, looked Tim in the face
The judge read the verdict, not guilty at all I was a free woman and skipped down the hall

Will my name remain in the Book of Life
Lord knows every day I try
But I’m a sinful man
Living in a sinful land
Doing everything I can
To get by

My favorite team lost last night
I cussed and cried
I got in a fight
Lord knows every day I try
but I’m a sinful man
Living in a sinful land
Doing everything I can
To get by

Probably drank too much last night
Carried on, had some fun
done some things that weren’t right
Lord knows every day I try
But I’m a sinful man
Living in a sinful land
Doing everything I can
To get by

Didn’t make it to church because I stayed out last night
Now I’m watching the TV preacher trying to make things right
The Lord knows I try
But I’m a sinful man
Living in a sinful land
Doing everything I can
To get by

Will my name remain in the Book of Life
Lord knows every day I try
But I’m a sinful man
Living in a sinful land
Doing everything I can
To get by

I had a conversation with my mom last night. Grandpa is not well, she told me. He's dying, is what I heard.

So am I, I thought.

I ate dinner with my friends and their kids tonight. I needed 2 years to heal from one of my first break-ups, she told me.

So do I, I thought.

I screamed at God or you or maybe both tonight. You're an a**hole! I yelled until my sobs cut my screams off.

So am I, I thought.

I wept in a friend's bed tonight. He's not making healthy choices, she told me.

So am I, I thought.

I watched the stars and sat outside while I cussed out God and you both tonight. You lied to me and I needed you, I sobbed.

So do I.

Ever step into an elevator that was **** filled and you cussed out loud.

Ever use a public toilet and reached for the handy wipe and the roll/box was empty. ?

Ever find a hair in your food and it had a ****** attached. ?

Ever show up on a blind date and broke you face and then realize that you did. ?

Ever catch yourself bumping and grinding in your sleep and  you wake up and your sweety is sitting up looking at you with that look. ?

Ever try to ease a silent but deadly in a quiet room and break bad. ?

close encounters of the worse kind.

Criminal record, drug abuse. Hurting others, no reason or excuse.
Go to church? What's the point? Do another line.
Roll another joint.
A bad attitude, another tattoo. Yeah i did. What's it to u?
Reaching new lows, yet calling them highs.
Hiding the truth, dewelling on lies.
Looking over my shoulder, dealing drugs.
Abandoning family, running with thugs.
My own personal war waged as a child:
Cussed, beaten, and sexually defiled.
I loved like i could, but lived like i shouldn't.
Thinking i could even up, but really i couldn't.
Finally, i fell to my knees, let go of my pride
Then asked the Lord to heal me inside.
I thanked Him for His mercy and death on the cross.
I gave Him my all and made Him "The Boss"

There was a frog down in the swamp
Who'd leap a half a mile
I chased that sunday entrée
With all my skill and guile

But when I speared that monster bull
I had a weird hunch
Those bulging eyes were warning me
I sure would hate my lunch

It ain't always a gourmet cook
Who serves the very best
I fried those twitching muscles there
And ate each bite with zest

But a funny feeling took-a-holt
That made me want to jump
Soon I felt me start to crave
A cool place for my ****

I found myself a boggy bank
And did a healthy croak
I bent my legs and leaped a block
And thought my *%$#@X!!# back was broke

I learned my lesson messing with
That cussed hoodoo frog
I sit safe on my pillow now
And don't go near the bog

But I'm still haunted by the hex
That ****** old frog applied
And I'm still getting Blue Cross
For a tender underside

when I enter Baskin-Robbins in the hood
so many flavors of sin
none good
for the  health of Ben or Jerry.

Where I get cussed at by those
behind me in the line
because I tarry in deciding,
I grin, step back, and say, ummmmm,

Then I cause vanilla freezes and strawberry cheesecake and rocky roads to melt as a twelve year old behind me in line
cusses like a sailor.

This one is funny to me because I used it as my POF profile message at one point. It cracks me up...

----
Imagine a world beyond belief, everyone has beauty underneath, like that's some sort of relief. Ourselves, under all that skin. How few people we really let in? How few become dear to you? How many slip on through?

I think I think too much, about lovers, and dreamers and such. Ramble on, and on, and on...Until everything is gone. Like Monday making the events of Friday night over discussed. Parental double-standards when their child cussed.

Imagine a comrade, companion, just company. Some manner of moments, made by you and me.

~I ask you, why.
Why do you think it is dumb that they are in love when they are both 14?
Yes, they are of a young age.
But she,
She is abused by the loving parents she never had.
The loving parents you had.
She feels a world of pain,
And is told she simply does not deserve to live.
She is cussed out,
Hurt,
Pained,
And you laugh because the one person who makes her feel important,
Is in love with her?
You can be in love at any age,
Because I know how she feels.
I know, because she was me.
My elders laughed because we were "too young"
Little did they know, nobody loved me~

...means nothing
to anybody.

The teachers that try to help us,
work day and night,
neglect their families
to think about
their students,
we ridicule,
insult
roll our eyes at,
attempt to intimidate.

The older man
standing at the door of
your grocery store,
who smiles and says
"Hello, How are you?!"
We glare at, or
ignore,
we brush him away,
and deny his
importance,
his existence.

The parents
who work so hard
and care
so much
for their children
are cussed at
ridiculed
insulted
rejected
treated like they are
Nothing
of no importance.

When someone
accidentially bumps into us
we respond with
"*******!"
"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!"
"WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?"
Instead of,
"Excuse me."

We all lament this
world of conflict
that exists.

We mourn the
death
of respect,
of common courtesy.

And yet we do nothing.

Are we people?
Or have we become animals?

I used to think I knew the answer,
I stayed positive,
but now...

I'm just not sure.

Come I’, Sit daahn, Shurrup,
Wor t' fust thin 'a' ah 'eard.
So ah grabbed uz buk fra t' back.
‘n prepared for summa’ absurd

An exam ont’ fust day ah exclaimed!
As uz face exploded wi’ rage
Ah dead eyed ‘im fra across t’ room
‘n reluctantly turned t’ page

T’ year continued like ‘dis,
‘n uz nem appeared ont’ board
‘n ta quote wah’ I’d learnt fra’ uz studies,
Ah felt wretched ‘n abhorred

Tahhm passed by,
‘n 'e 'n class began ta connect.
n suddenly 'a' dislikin,
turned inter respect.

Tahhm went furtha,
as 'e yelled 'n laughed 'n cussed,
‘n suddenly ‘a’ respect,
turned inter complete trust.

‘e’d lern wee randa facts,
‘n sha wee gormless vids.
'e’d respect wee li' adults,
'n nivva' treat wee li' kids.

'n even when ah wor glum,
‘n wasn’t feelin missen,
‘e’d finn' eur way ta use 'is words
ta nurse uz back ta 'ealth.

‘n when 'e sez 'e wor leavin, everybody’s 'eart cried,
We didn’t want ta seh tarreur,
teur t' bloke who’d bin ah guide

Sa t' best we can doa is come togetha,
‘n gatha orl wee folks.
'n wish t' best o' luck ta ah ‘un 'n onny,
Yorksha bloke.

I stubbed my toe upon a nail
It hurt and hurted, just like hell
I got sick of the pain
Along came a train-
Sliced it off on the top of a rail.

I jammed my finger in a door
I swear that sucker got so sore
When I couldn't stand it one minute
I turned on the disposal and stuffed it in it-
Now instead of five fingers, I got four.

My knee was feeling it's weary age
As I hobbled me across the stage
In the museum, there was the guillotine
Crawled over the chain, and did my thing-
Now my wooden leg is all the rage.

My arm was sprung; I cannot lie
So I laid me down in the road, to die
But I got lucky, the truck was small
So now I'm just not quite as tall-
You can't succeed if you never try.

Had tennis elbow, so I went to play
Games with a table-saw; my friend Ray
Has tools galore; had just the thing
Now my arm's fixed, it's in its sling-
And I didn't even have to pay.

Got paper cut, doing my thesis
Cussed out loud, my paper in pieces
I hung my hand from a ceiling beam
Strangled it's guts, with nary a scream-
Really proud of my new prosthesis.

My child ran crying she got hurt
As I saw all around her, blood did spurt
But she took one look at my stumps and slings
Said oh, it's really not anything-
Went out, and rubbed it with some dirt.

I'm not spendy, and I don't have greed
For sure, this body has gone to seed
I can do without arms and legs
Ovaries, appendix; all those eggs-
Cause the head's the only part I need.