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Chris Slade Dec 2018
(A Tribute to Ted Slade - poet, 1937-2004)

This new friendship. This journey on which we were just setting out.

How will we work it now you've...well...gone?

It was going so well. That's the way I saw it anyhow.

It had only been a year - we two - back in each other's circle...

Same planet - different orbit. Though I'll never know now what your thoughts might have been..



This 52 year gap in our 'acquaintance', for that's all you'd ever say it was
,
it closed at dad's (your Uncle Bud's) funeral - as he leapt 'on-flame' to the ether.

He didn't half want to go..."Why don't they just let me slip away?"
And then it was you I wanted to know amongst those finger buffet scoffers.

Those ribboned aces never knew that Bud just kick-started their Lancasters and 'Spits' at Leconfield and Liberia.



Bud's morphine muted passing proved positive, and thankfully at last - 

(he might remember now) - he helped kick-start too this belated kinship between us.

Jack would have been pleased about that...(Bud too I know)

"a good trade" he'd have called it. "I'm knackered anyway".

I was always curious about our respective dads - they only ever sent Christmas cards...no letters. No love.



Bud gave me a book  before he swapped "heaven's hopper" for the "take & bake".

"Eer-yar" he wheezed...this is more up your street than mine..."

"Yer what?..."Poetry?...No... I can't make head nor tail of it. Like Shakespeare...Where's me glasses?"

and, with that ,the "Last Arm Pointing" welded that closing gap between us tight shut.

I read 'Mystery Tour' to Bud...about Jack's 'motorised passing' and he cried. So, it was up his street. after all.



Your words filled me in on distant memories...made solid.
Missing chunks I'd seen but never written down
.
Of Withernsea and its winter isolation

of Jack, his life - and how it intertwined with yours.

I've not found too much yet about Phyllis. Is there a darker story there? Who'll tell me now?



Your final work, tireless as ever, from your New Malden 'crow's nest'...

was steering your second collection to print...and then...

Your literally-literal Mugs and Sweats - flying off the shelves of a California warehouse.

Disabled? Pah!  Why should they ever know the what & why behind the who and when?

Your 'disability'...would only 'publicly' let you down if your trike sustained a puncture in Richmond Park.



"Hi Cuz...Where do I go to get mugs and sweat shirts printed?"

And then, whilst I was looking through directories & old invoices,

you whizzed across the earth on the wings of your laser guided mouse.

By the time I'd got the phone numbers of long distance, half remembered contacts -

you had designs submitted, distribution and royalty deals sorted and were planning the next big thing.



Your freehold on the planet was the web...your very own super-short cut.

Who needs invalid cars when you can 'fly digital'?

You were a lover of the dub-dub-dub which loved you back in floods.

Now, even when your body has deserted you - it still throws us pages and pages - of you - and about you.

The Noddy Holders and Wes the Western Gun-slinger, pale by comparison, they'd envy your PR knack.



Instead of trying to phone, (these heavenly BT - or is it ET-connections often end in wrong numbers)...

and, because a lot of the time talking took it out of you, I'll keep writing like I did before.

Replies would be good. But I often used to write out of turn anyway.

So yes, things could get a bit one sided...forgive me if I 'go on', and... you don't!

But I'll keep writing to [email protected] and read the answers in your books and old e-mails of the family's past.



Cheers Ted...Lots of love Chris (Cuz) Slade.
Ted Slade was a published poet with (for a sufferer of severe kyphoscoliosis) a stellar career. Only started school at age 12... Qualified for Uni at 16. A metalurgist at Filingdales after graduation (so, a real 'propellor head')... He switched to Head of Marketing for the Portuguese Tourist Authority (as you do)...An Atheist and Communist, his last job before dedicating to poetry was as PC Network specialist at Kingston University...On retirement he turned his attention full time to Poetry and founded www.poetrykit.org We lost touch big-time and only met again in our 60s (mental) and found we had so much in common... except I was and never will be a propellor head!
Aztec Cathrine Feb 2018
I want to know when you look at me you see my personality. I dont want it if its fake. I just letting you know. This superficial love thing got me going crazy. I you want me then you better keep. Cuz I'm so done. People like me cuz they think I'm all what I look like. They never like my personality they like me for my clothes and they like me for my looks but, I'm so done. They never really want me they never really want to keep me. This superficial love thing got me going crazy. Baby if you want me you better treat me like your everything. My personality drives them away all the time. I just wanna know whats your though of me. I can see you in my dreams but, I just wanna see you in my heart and on my mind. My personality got one going crazy. Maybe hes the one or is it just for fun. But hes so sweet and hes so kind. I see him in my heart and on my mind. He loves me for myself. He loves my personality.
Hope you guys like it.
M Clement Nov 2012
**** this dude is annoying as ****
Says the over indulged little man on his
Hipster compy

Can you feel the self-loathing?
Good. Cuz, this is me slitting wrists

Nothing is really that impressive when you write it yourself
I’m never proud of the words
Arranged on paper

But ****, that guy can poet.
**** English, I do whatever I **** well please
Let me chill you.

I’ve heard children be labeled as mistakes
I still can’t believe that.
I could sit here and write salt all day
That **** would still surprise me.
Like a one-legged ****** bursting out of the cake on the 4th of July.
Matadi Jul 2018
Pretty girls don't cry
Guess with all the makeup how could I
Ladies don't drink
Guess with all my pain ill just Take your man
Sober
Cuz i'm pretty right?

Stereotypical Diva, She too quiet
Guess she stuck up
She's gotta be a ***, why she always lucks up?
Sugar baby,Slays
Waist training made her that way

The world is insecure
Lots of pain that we endure
reflecting judgment on others, to forget our demonic flaws
James LR Jul 2018
Success was a yellow brick road
Hope was a star in the sky
Grief was a runaway dog
Maturity was knowing it died
Joy was a chocolate bar
And Escape just meant to run far
Then somewhere along the way
Everything began to change

The yellow brick road was too long
The star in the sky was too far
And when the dog died it was sad
(but mostly cuz you drove the car)
The candy was not on our diet
And you can't escape who you are
Why did we decide to grow?
That much I'll never know
Zoe Mae Jan 2018
Why am I always afraid
I can't figure why
Is it cuz this bed I've made
Feels like a coffin in the sky

Floating over crowds alone
I never feel connected
This place doesn't seem like home
And I always get rejected

I may look human just like you
With two legs underneath
Two arms that don't know what to do
Wrapped round me like a sheath

A mouth that opens, words come out
Sometimes in a faint whisper
Other times I scream and shout
In the mirror at my sister

Two eyes that blink but do not see
A nose that does not smell
A feeling I'm not meant to be
And that this must be ****

If so then why is no one here
And I'm the only one
I feel my heart swollen with fear
And I just turn and run

Why am I always afraid
I just don't know why
Is it cuz this bed I've made's
My coffin in the sky
Lyn Senz Nov 2013
Bubbles big and bubbles small
I wish that I could pop them all
their pious lies would finally fall
how nice without their bubbles

he thinks all day of things to say
like it's your fault cuz you don't pray
new shoes new shirt for judgment day
he's ready in his bubble

and she's right there with hateful glare
to tell you that the rod won't spare
the only way to get God's care
and live inside His bubble

but me I see I'll never be
among the 'good' among the 'free'
I'm lost in sin tossed out to sea
outside their giant bubble

bubbles big and bubbles small
I wish that I could pop them all


©2012 Lyn
Bison Jun 2016
Sand chokes my sea blue eyes
Heat like waves invite Delusion's rise
My wandering soles worn to pride
But I won't give up on paradise

'Cuz I know
There's an angel waiting
To welcome me to the oasis
And I know
I can make it to your cool shoreline and
I won't waste this, my new horizon

There's the ocean just overhead
I'm not dreaming, no, I'm not dead
I'm just hoping for a splash of rain
Some clouds to wash away Thirst's looming dread

I'm collapsing and it's not enough
I'll be buried before the sun is up
And you will never know if
I truly loved you or if this was all a bluff

'Cuz you know
I'm no angel gracing
St. Peter's golden grating
And you know
I don't know to give up my hallucination and
return to your old foundation

I may die with my bones
Exposed in blistered sunlight
But in my hand
there'll be an old photo
Of you and I
thejohnags Jul 2018
you're lost in the wild
you don't know where you are,
you don't know what to do,
so you're dying in the dark.

you're looking for a trace
you're looking for a place,
but all you get is this maze
you should've seen your face
you got burned, got cornered
no turns, just liars.

and when you try to seek out the exit,
you find the monsters in your closet
smiling, waiting, hungry to dive in
you can run, but you can't hide
you can try, but you'll be found

so you're lonely in the streets,
you've been sleeping there, no sheets
you're looking for a mirror, looking for a lover,
looking for a mother, looking for a savior,
but you're alone, child.
but are you lone, child?
are you gonna cry now? be brave child.

the time is ticking
this game you're playing,
it's never ending,
but try to win it.

you say you're fine,
but you hope with fright.
you curse your life,
cuz it's killing you with pride.

the door is open,
but the sign says closed
your heart is breaking,
but you got no one to hold.

so you hold onto your dreams:
bright, and thriving lights, NYC
but is it worth it? can you chase it?
can you catch it? or miss all of it?

you sit in the corner of the bed
you're thinking about life, you're thinking about death
you're thinking about your friends, you're thinking about your family
when you thought of yourself, you thought of yourself lastly.

you sit and think about living
what to do to learn? what to do to earn?
how to keep up the pace?
how to dance in the rain?
and why are you lonely in this sick, crazy game?

so you wake up in the streets
the air is warm, so you smile, and you breathe
looking for dime, looking for a rhyme,
looking for more time, looking for your prime

looking for a flower,
looking for a paper,
cuz that is what you're best at:
painting words then you're a goner.
She smiles brave for her father
Cuz she can't find her mother,
Her bleeding goes unnoticed
and she's trying to stay focused,
On what she knows
And how it goes
but the wind still blows
and the feeling grows,
And she can’t keep it in rhythm
when she see's others girls with him.

No one sees her heart is broken
Her tears go unspoken,
There’s no one there, no one to phone,
She’s all alone,
She’s hurting
and her feelings keep on stirring,
She cannot eat
She cannot sleep,
She’s faceless
She stumbles cuz she graceless,
She’s tired of holding on
cuz her time has come and gone.

She feels her life is over
She needs someone to show her,
She’s not invisible no more.

She's starting to get nervous
what did she do to deserve this
She needs to rise to the surface
She needs to know her purpose,
She needs to know she's not invisible no more
Read more at http://******-in-oncology
laura Aug 2018
that guy’s got a different ride
all the time
says he’s an heir to an oil
magnate yo
bet his ex girlfriend’s kicking
herself ‘cuz
the checks larger than three
or five year’s
worth of salaries, crazy crazy
baby got
regrets but she says she’s not a
gold digger
Lyn Senz 2 Nov 2013
glass factory
so much to do
pick up glass
I bust my ***
and there's always more
and I'm always poor

thru the glass
I can see
how you don't
see me
so strange
cuz I rearrange
pieces
all day
trying to find
a way
to see you


©2000 Lyn
slay Sep 2018
Green tea chillin
Coolin like some villains
Feet on your dash
Hit a dab and we’re trippin
Ridin round bumpin “I pull up with a lemon”
And not cause he. Ain’t livin
But it’s a lowkey type feelin
And I might just catch feelings
Cause I’m in love with myself Nd
U have my image

***** dancing in the mirror
With my jewel toned lover
Wanna please you in the summer
Hot like the Bahamas
Fenty glowin in this heat
Sipping on guava
Don’t get me goin in this heat
Cause imma need a breather

Said lemme hit the ******
Ex flame wildin out
I knew he’d never keep her
Ex flame, cross his heart
I cut that Eddie scissors
Cuz I’m the Queen *****
The big b *****
The big bag wolf got his tail between his knees, *****
Go hard in the paint
Michelangelo his dreams, *****
And my chapel’s pristine
Don’t know who the **** Sistine is

But we’re green tea chillin
It’s a vibe, it’s a feelin
It’s a whole new way of livin
And we always make a killin
Got the summer stacks flowin
Bitty ***** always glowin
All my girls are wing-hoein
Some try to copy what I’m after

Don’t know who you tryna front always talkin louder
I got all my ******* tasting sweet and never sour
Eat it like Chiquita open her up like a flower
When I’m with Nikita we go rounds by the hour
I caresss her in the shower
She’s the smartest ***** I know, her tongue got superpowers
She don’t hit me all that frequent
But she knows that I mean it
When I tell her imma get it she gon feed when I’m eatin
She don’t give a **** if I slide for the weekend
Can I pick you up and take you out this evening?

Next time I see you gimme sugar
It’s proven therapeutic when you’re too nice with it and you look good in it
But better without it, so keep it unbuttoned
Only thing under wraps is our sensual lovin

Wait, did you cop wraps?
nottttr finisheddddd *sampled*
Ma Cherie Mar 2017
I have so many musings
my hands they are complaining,
cuz I can't get them all right,
an so quickly jot them down,

An I feel that I'm connected,
to all my friends and my dear neighbors
an all that I can hear is just is that sound!

Of sweet snowflakes as they're falling,
in the silence sweet n pure,
an so softly as I hear them,
touch the ground,

An soon I'll imagine,
oh a winter wonderland,
in a covering in all you see around,

Those lovely floating wisps,
are so intricate-amazing
those parachuting sprites,
here they abound!

If you ever catch one close up,
well you really really oughta,
cuz the labyrinthine in sight
it will astound!

They are happy little ships afloat,
with an octagonal shape,
landing on all  life,
once sorely browned,

Every child and adult,
is now looking up in awe,
as there smiles turning up ,
instead of frowned!

I thought that I was lost,
an I'd never get to see,

but in poetry it seems-
that  I am found!

Ma Cherie © 2017
Happy poetry! Yeah!?  Lol ; ) ❤❤❤ hope you are all well!
Lyn Senz 2 Nov 2013
I'll have won't borrow
have fun no sorrow
and there's sun tomarrow
so I'm told
but right now it's cold

my road is an alley
no peaceful valley
no time to dally
it's cold

but I hold on I read
to plant some seed I need
just go slow don't speed
and you'll get there be freed
so I'm told
but it's so cold

well I'll hold on
anyway
I'll stay
cuz I was told


©2001 Lyn
Bison Apr 2016
It's been said that ignorance is bliss
But I think that phrase took a swing and missed.
Cuz I look around and all the ignorance I see and hear
Seems to stem directly from fear.

Fear of knowledge, change, and what may come next
From both sides of the aisle, right and left

Mother help us we walk along in confusion
Pointing fingers, spewing hate filled abuse and
Forgetting to speak of love for fear of rejection
Father help us we ask your protection

There's more to learn if only we allow it
We should listen to more than just those who shout the loudest

Even jesters garner much attention
And are showered with affection
But their ideas are farcical and dilute
If one but tried they are simple to dispute

Die not with fear in your heart
Remember courage requires fear to start
To defeat our burgeoning ignorance
We must supplant our living indifference
Lyn Senz Nov 2013
When the leaves start to shake
I can't wait, for Wintertime
is on the way
it's cold air in my hair
and I can't wait
it's feeling so cold outside
and I can't wait to see
your face, your grace
warm places no
they just don't understand

cuz it's so cold, it's so
much to behold
when it's Wintertime
it's so cold, it's so
much to behold
when it's Wintertime

When the leaves start to shake
I can't wait


©1990 Lyn
I say, "Baby, I'm fallin'....!"
"Fallin' where?" You ask-
"Fallin' in love again!"
"Who is he?" You ask-
"Baby, I'm fallin' in love with you!"
"Why me?" You ask-
"Cuz I'm crazy about you!"
"Ooohhh, but why me?" You ask-
"Cuz I love everythin' about you, Baby!"
"Like what?" You ask-
"Your eyes, your smile, your voice,
Your laugh, your sense of humor;
Need I go on?"
"Ohhh no, that's quite enough." You say-
"Baby, that's good! Cuz I'm
Already fallin'.... fallin' in love again!"

You say, "Hey Darlin', I'm fallin....!"
"Fallin' where?" I ask-
"Fallin' in love again!"
"Who is she?" I ask-
"Darlin', I'm fallin' in love with you!"
"Why me?" I ask-
"Cuz I'm also crazy about you!"
"Aaahhh, but why me?" I ask-
"Cuz I love everythin' about you, too, Darlin'!"
"Like what?" I ask-
"Your sense of humor, your laugh,
Your voice, your smile, your eyes;
Need I go on?"
"Ahhh no, that's quite enough." I say-
"Darlin', that's good! Cuz I'm
Already fallin'.... fallin' in love again!"

"Baby, what do we do now?" I ask-
"How about this, Darlin'? He asks-
And he kisses her~

2007

(wishful thinkin' here)

COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Kevin J Taylor Oct 2015
Doctor of Psychiatry (That's Me. EMM. DEE.)
The accent's on the silent P
I read it in a book, you see,
the Holy DSM (now V).

But did I hear you say you're SANE?
Well, have you met your reptile brain?
Here... Plug this in…
Now bite down hard...
While I explain...

OOooohhhh! (Psych) Drugs that ****!
OOooohhhh! Lies & hate!
Electroshock! Lobotomate!
AAAaaaaahhh!

Hmmm, what to do? My day's half done...
Let's educate! With Ritalin!
Oh Glory Me! Not vita-mines!!
We can't have that you filthy swine.
Can't you just work on drooling fine?
Now, back to work... No time to waste...
My kickbacks must be earned posthaste!

OOooohhhh! (Psych) Drugs that ****!
OOooohhhh! Lies & hate!
Electroshock! Lobotomate!
AAAaaaaahhh!

Survivors? Schmeguyvors!
It’s time for lunch!  I'll have some brain!
Served with sides of *** and pain!
Again, again, again, AGAIN!!
You're drooling from your ears again...
I thought you said that you were sane.
Quick! Swallow this — I’ve kids to *****!
Did I say that? IT ISN'T TRUE!

(They must read minds — I’LL **** THEM TOO!)

OOooohhhh! (Psych) Drugs that ****!
OOooohhhh! Lies & hate!
Electroshock! Lobotomate!
AAAaaaaahhh!

I love to ****! O what a day!
In fact, I'm GOD, I'm proud to say.

I'm-hearing-what-you're-telling-me
Blah blah blah blah
Blah blah blah blah...
You say some words?
Listen! They don't even rhyme!
So just make sure you're dead on time.
Take these... What? Did I say DEAD?
(That Prozac's gone straight to your head.)
Of course I did! Cuz DEATH’s such fun!
THE ONLY CURE FOR EVERYONE!

(insane laughter)
.
Frost Feb 5
Sleep is good
Cuz it's like food
But food's better
Since its tastier




And yes this is really ******
All of my random poems will get, well random, well more random than the last one to say at the least :]
Justin Griego Jun 2011
I don't write lyrics, but I do have flow
I don't write music, but I do have soul
I'm not an artist, but a picture I'll paint
  Sistine Chapel leaves you thinking I'm a saint
I don't play sports, but I do play minds
I'm not a catcher, but I still show signs
I'm not a racer, but I still cross lines

I'm not a witch, but I'll still cast doom
Not the undertaker, but I'll set up your tomb
Not a fortune teller, but I can spell your demise
I'm not a magician, but I can see your surprise
I'm not a gardener, but I can plant you in the ground
I'm not a devil, but hellish is my sound
  Demons in the room have come to stomp you down

I flow freely, 'cuz I'm a bad-*** poet
But I'm not all bad. Here, let me show it
I can make your heart beat to the sound of my melody
  Make you love-sick; I'm sorry, there is no remedy
I'm like soldiers in the dirt, always brave
I'm strong, and I'm bold, and I'm a slight knave
Always protecting innocence with the tip of a glaive
*  Now this time I must remember to hit save
Another Insomniac Poem
Sofia Von Jul 2014
Suicidal serial killer bashes the bones hoping to feel nothing
because that would be something
A Swelling self-image pops in the distance
is chewed,
then inflated over and over
this routine never fails to cycle, disappoint, and please
Ethanol injections cuz oral doesn't do ****
give it to me *******
***** I'll munch your muffin just fo nuthin like I'm ****** with y'all
Cuz I surf to fall and smoke to die
In the high where life is inconsequential
to question and I feel less than short
Of supernatural

Who are these new kids?
They dress in tights and pick fights
I can't see your face but I trust the feeling
Damsel's are rescued
blood is spewed
Yet insanity is gushing
The drugs are running out
We might just be super
We might just be heroes

Entropy enters me ripping the glamour and with a stammer I know
This isn't a comic book
Marvel
In awe at these elaborately induced fabrications
and schemes to change the pecking order or chisel
the universe to perfection

The line of schizophrenic and degenerate flees
for the hills
that now have eyes
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