"despairs" poems
my darkest poems
bloodletting streams
are a kind of ******
fetishy cognitive inventory
malformed denizens
of the subconscious
a well of torments
soup of Salmonella
the souls gut
its cauldron
yet not with out lurid enticements
and voluptuous supplicants
gorgeous
like an eight legged woman
with beautiful feet
drooling **** lips
drunk on sacrificial rituals
of blood black tongued kisses
and hideous contorted pleasures
********
once
exquisite archetypes
gods and goddesses
are now
putrefied
cellar dwellers
moaning in nature bed crypts
of rock, stone
and engraved sigils
because honest pure desires
became fragmentary
and are now gimping amputees
by legions of primal disappointment
while faces blare in the world
like super bright L.E.D.s
shinning paths to others
our deep self
remains patinaed in tears
a black box pox with a lock
the skeleton key lost
in arcane seas
out of utter disgust
for those dark crawlers
that live within us
revealing them selves
as anxieties, depressions
suicides
and myriad quiet despairs
we appear undaunted
to others
and they to us
humanity
muffled ticks
and splintered sticks
my poems let my demons out
yoo who its me
my name is spray snake z
with my hooks and cries
and dark blood skies
in the misty night
i dragged out their earthen coffins
legends of the despicable
resurrected them
fed and loved those darklings
had every conceivable union with them
their healing, my own
ive sexualized them
and found love
albeit twisted
to be adored
in a hidden embrace
i bestow upon you a poetic fantasy
while obsession takes hold
bind it not
nor let it bind you*
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:32 AM UTC
a man is born with a ***** testicles, and various other masculine equipment and tendencies.
a Man lives by a masculine code that revolves around the physical, the mental, and the spiritual. a Man is committed to himself above all else. this may sound selfish, but it isn't. a Man not only puts himself on high, but connects himself mind, body, and soul to the physical, mental, and the spiritual. everything that he connects to himself becomes himself. a Man does not distinguish between the his own flesh and the flesh of his children. a Man does not distinguish between his mind and the mind's of those in his inner circle. a Man does not distinguish between his will and the will of his god. a Man is power. he is the generator. those that he has allowed to plug into his world are empowered by him. they come into his presence and feel better for it. a Man changes lives. a Man understands the trinity of justice, mercy, and charity. a Man is not afraid to give to those as they deserve. he looks with fair eyes and does not slow his hand or slow its speed. a Man is not cold enough to be alien to compassion. he can see to the heart of matters and look past the easy answers. when others will marvel at his wisdom and praise his mercy. he will only think 'as it should be'. a Man is not without the ability to go beyond. he can look to the future. help those that need it, sometimes before they need it. anticipation and preparedness are the weapons of the Man. stoic strength is his shield. a Man is not without weakness. he understands his weaknesses, but is not victim to them. he may succumb to them, but as a master of justice, he steels himself for the price he must pay. weakness must be addressed and turned to strength. as a Man fears, he must stand up and face it. as a Man despairs, he must turn it aside. when a Man fails, all that have plugged into his power will fail. when a Man falls, families, nations, societies fall. when a Man falls, it is the duty of another Man to come to his aid. when Men stop aiding Men, they merely become men with penises and various other masculine equipment and tendencies.
The Man is a Man that all other Men fear and long to be. He is the one that Men plug into. Some Men see that as a sign of weakness and rebel, but The Man signs paychecks and feeds families. who will topple The Man?
Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 6:21 PM UTC
Five years ago
I knew an 8th grader
who felt ashamed for who he was
who felt constantly out of place
who tossed and turned at night
with deep enough despairs
with ideas of throwing it all away
with plans for those actions
with no dreams, and only one long nightmare
Three years ago
I knew a sophomore
who finally just started to accept it
who reached out and tried
who thought everyone felt the same
with only blank stares for replies
with only confused "friends"
with no family backing
with no true "inner circle"
Last year
I knew a senior
who carried the burden alone
who perfected his mask
who finally learned how to hide
with perceived success
with sarcasm and quick jokes
with pushing everyone away
with justified fear of opening up
This year
I know a college freshmen
who is struggling for acceptance of himself
who brags of the physical scars
who is afraid to reveal the deeper ones
with walls as big as he could muster
with iron bars to conceal what is beneath
with pandora's box within
with that same scared kid locked inside.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
My dearest Little Brother, if there were only words to describe how I feel,
I would tell you that you are amazing, you're truthful, and your real.
You've come from depths and the darkest of despairs, you've lived through things that people only conquer with prayers.
Yeah, we get it, you weren't dealt the best hand of them all.
But look at you now Will, still standing there tall.
You've made it this far, yeah with a lot of love, but what is family for if it isn't to give you a shove.
With your head held high and optimism in your heart
You've realized that everyday is a new beginning, a fresh start.
Yesterday is gone and the past; it doesn't matter.
"I knew who I was this morning but I've changed a few times since then."
Once said the Mad Hatter.
Forever changing, we all aways are. Like Alice in Wonderland, trying to get home from afar. There are so many obstacles blocking the path to our destiny,
but in the end we find out it was all for necessity.
Hardship and obstruction are the root of all things great.
You have to overcome them to set yourself straight.
You have to trudge through the agonizing and the bad
So when you wake up you realize that there is no reason to be sad
Your blessed in more ways than one can fathom
A family that loves you and believes in you, you have them.
We set our standards on what we think people want from us,
But not you, no sir you don't understand the fuss.
You march to your own drum, make friends wherever you go
I've seen you go through a lot and I just want you to know
You've come out on top but there's still room to climb
So don't give up hope and don't say your fine.
Talk to me when you need an ear
Know I love you and I'll always be here.
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 6:17 PM UTC
When I was little
often I watched my mom in the kitchen
working till late night
kitchen was her cocoon
kitchen was her heaven
I had to pretend to be sick
to take her out from there
Once I caught her sobbing
at the kitchen sink
as a child I asked her so innocently
"Did daddy make you cry"
No darling she said
She smiled and continued with dishes..
and left me with the question WHY?
Years later..
and today I am a mother myself
The tragedy in mom's kitchen still haunting my life
watching my mom crying in her kitchen
was not a good picture,
not a good memory as a child
not at all.....
The kitchen was her castle
In the warmth of her kitchen
she made miracles…she created magic upon magic
splendid recipes... superb dishes
feeding her loved ones... with love
but Today I realized how my mother
released herself and that could have made her survive
By working so hard in the kitchen
By often hiding her despairs and sorrows
Her kitchen was her secret hiding place
every time she was hurt...
when the world treated her so unfairly
In the comfort of her Kitchen
She consoled herself....
How did I realize this after so many many years?
today for the very first time
I cried myself at the kitchen sink
In my very own cozy kitchen
over a pile of dinner plates ,
almost breaking a glass
so afraid to lose control...
but my kitchen is heaven that saves me...
as my tears are falling over the bubbles in the sink
How I came to understand my mother's feelings...
by standing there in the kitchen...
remisniscing... and..
breathing this life
feeling this life
experiencing with life
living with life....
as long as mothers are alive
they live their life
to share the laughter and joy
of their husband and children
to endure the pain and sorrows
but hide them once in a while....
in mom's heavenly kitchen
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
XXV
A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
From year to year until I saw thy face,
And sorrow after sorrow took the place
Of all those natural joys as lightly worn
As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn
By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace
Were changed to long despairs, till God’s own grace
Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn
My heavy heart. Then thou didst bid me bring
And let it drop adown thy calmly great
Deep being! Fast it sinketh, as a thing
Which its own nature doth precipitate,
While thine doth close above it, mediating
Betwixt the stars and the unaccomplished fate.
3.1k
Nerves fulminate, fissuring skin
As bones crackle, to weary tear,
Volcanic face, pooling hot tears,
Gaia weeps, her world despairs,
All of land's flora, and all of seas,
Erupt, displeasure at man's villainy.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 8:44 AM UTC
her poems
pierce us
to our core..
we must surrender
to her choice
of words..
a wrong word
she despairs
to malaria compares..
perhaps a way inside
enter her two doors..
watch these
switch and intertwine..
heaven/hell
soul/society
light/slant
morning/night..
find ourselves on the /
still..
as we wrestle
are we grasping for an
Emily Ungraspable..?
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 12:06 PM UTC
One brain, one mouth, one being - nothing more!
I’ve killed my selves so many times
My own womb has suffered crimes,
To be a poet have I tried
But my ink has gotten dry.
Rebirthed myself as man - for the poems, for the words, nothing more
Everything missed Dionysus like never before!
A different life among you have I led!
Deprived myself of all life gives
In dark, alone and cold I wept.
Destitute and desperate now,
My heart freezing on a lonely bough.
The bulb above my brow is hanging by a single thread and when
It falls and breaks to pieces they will know that I am dead.
Come sleep - or come death,
I can see no difference.
Blind me at least so I can mock the Sun!
With shut eyes they think I am illiterate,
Primordial is the essence and I am her son.
They want me to dance at the feet of chance!
Embrace chaos in my attic,
Die a young and worthy addict.
Forced to live in Hölderlin’s tower
As nothing more than a wilting flower.
My words trembled but were barren, devoid of romance,
So my poetry never made anyone dance.
I clipped my wings so I can drink with sailors,
Walk amongst them on my frail feet,
To be man is all I ever wanted,
Chugged the nectar of life which made me sick.
Oh, men! How fragile you are!
Slowly poisoned by the time you try to escape
‘Meaningless is existence’ you say as you create!
Come sleep - or come death,
I can see no difference.
Poverty through poetry, the most human way to go,
Come sleep - or come death,
Let me go.
He wanted to be human - the humanest of them all - a poet!
He wanted to put pain on paper - even make it rhyme
He wanted to be the one to hear the screams of time.
And as the light faded and the bulb broke,
Darkness came wearing mistress clothes.
‘Oh, men! How strange you really are!’ - he yelled.
‘Dionysus! What a man you have become!’ - she said.
Then he disappeared swearing to never return,
Thinking that poetry is for those who like to burn.
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 11:13 AM UTC
Our time was short
not aged like wine
The truth was plucked
from the vine
And I never got the chance
to say goodbye
The thoughts hold on
The heart despairs
The ghost of you
is everywhere
And I will always be next to and
. . . near you
so goodbye . . . farewell . . . goodbye
The day begins
just like it ends
Is it God's good will
it came to end
But my loneliness
shouts out in vain
So when something ends
it's time to begin
I won't be looking behind . . .
it's just the wind
And my arms are aching
from the pain
Goodbye . . . so goodbye
fare thee well
So go on now . . . cut your losses
Close the fact inside the coffin
Take the key and
lock it deep inside
Learn how to say your prayers
Long for the day without the cares
The evening air comes on now so chilling
Say goodbye , goodbye now . . . forevermore
Goodbye . . .
you've closed the door
With every step I'm feeling
Where once so firm I'm reeling
from the overburden
of my motal ways
So just release my last goodbye
Don't even dare to ask me why
The chances are cast
the lot now devided
. . . so goodbye . . . goodbye . . .
. . . goodbye . . . fare thee well . . .
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 7:43 PM UTC
Gitano yawned,
stretching out under
the shrine of Öli.
Here he plotted
and hid a mouthful
of secrets; and the Lord
watched over him
as he slept.
He plotted,
for coyote wisdom
is disguised by folly
and cunning
and guile.
All about, the vermilion
stain of Mars. The coyote
chuckled mischievously,
dreaming at the feet
of the Master and Judge.
Above,
a ziggurat raised
to the Goddess.
Two great black eagles
circled in a sky
of dry roses and lilacs.
La Santisima Muerte
stood at a distance,
yet bore Gitano
in Her *****
His mischiefs were scribed
upon a cartouche
to amuse gods
and teach men;
Yet men are not
so easily taught
as gods are amused;
For men have not yet
learned to believe
what makes them laugh.
And so Gitano sleeps,
and talks while he sleeps;
wherefore the Ways
of mischief and trickery
were laid bare.
The secret is to teach
at the expense
of innocence.
Certain illusions persist;
they must be shattered,
but their thrall
can only be broken
by design.
Whether bitterness
takes root in the wake
of the shattering
is not Gitano's concern.
Because sometimes
realization can only come
through being made a fool,
revealed to ourselves
as absurd.
Angry at our own foolishness,
we blame the one
who denudes it.
The coyote, too, is a Fool.
A Fool can learn,
shaping destiny
by taking responsibility.
Through death a Fool
becomes wise,
seeing the joke.
The burden of karma
is left to those
who cannot laugh.
Man grits his teeth,
his brow furrowed.
He despairs.
Gitano chuckles,
unperturbed.
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
when she was four she tied balloons to her wrist.
they always rose, she knew. balloons always found the clouds.
she sat in the grass with her legs crossed and fastened string after plastic string to her arm, and until her hand turned blue she waited
waited to rise.
when she was ten she smashed a hold in the frozen water across the street.
water always carried people away
it ran when they couldn't run themselves
and frozen water,
she figured,
would be slower--
less harsh but it would bring her far from home all the same.
white and blue as the clouds she'd longed for,
they pulled her from the frigid water
six miles downstream
even fastened to a hospital bed with 'suicidal' harshly painted on her soul
she knew she didn't belong
when she was fifteen she joined the party,
older kids were swallowing their sorrows and threading out their despairs in a pitiful drug-induced slumber
and she watched with a syringe in her hand, as read to join them as she was to die.
she was born to die.
and so the needle in her arm and the tragedy on her breath was enough to help her rise.
and as her eyelids turned back to icy blue and her identity was wiped clean she felt a pressure against the crisscrossed skin of her wrist
and as her mind followed her heart out of the world she would have sworn it was a black balloon
that carried her to oblivion.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:09 AM UTC
I am exhausted by strength today.
I’ve often pretended to be a mighty oak fighting the storms
Often fought the strongest winds while standing there in the open
Alone and compelled to fight
My wars, and most of the time theirs
Bewildered and forlorn
Glorifying the oak in me
Yet I have always ended up crooked, scarred, and broken
Unaccepting to the message of reality
That there will always be lulls and long despairs
And a lot of battles that you cannot choose
But will still try to find someone
Who’ll help me gather the fallen sticks, my gnarled and withered twigs
To create something beautiful
While I find again my quiet strength, my calm courage amidst any storm
Jan 20, 2023
Jan 20, 2023 at 10:15 AM UTC
I bring all that I have
I bring all that I am
I bring all that I hoped that I'd ever be
And I place it
On the alter
At your feet
I give all that I can
I give all that I own
I give all that I hoped that I'd ever have
And I give you
All my worries
My hopes and despairs
Because all that I am is yours!
All that I have is yours!
All that I am is yours
Forever I will be yours!
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 11:41 PM UTC
*
*******
*LOVERZ whole world collapsed
Into a small GOLDEN speckle dust of BELOVEDz*
********
My fall in the BLACK HOLE OF YOUR LOVE
Gave you Golden wings in flight to rise
YOU rose from within LOVE's UNION
To create the milky way of our galaxy
The fusion nuclear energy with
The Golden speckle of LOVE dust
The world illuminated and
Every human heart enlightened
By your sun-shine silver rays of
The Golden speckle dust of LOVE
All the milky ways in many galaxies
Are witness to your LOVE energy
Dazed, surrendering to YOU in AWE
Time withers under LOVE
Pendulum stands still....
Colliding of two energies
The crash become a necessity
For creating the new world of LOVE
****** within that black-hole
We Fall in LOVE
LOVE - a process of revelation
Through pain, frustration, suffering
Longing, grief and agony are necessary
For the molten to undergo the fire
To brighten and purify the into
The Golden speckle of LOVE dust
Now the same Gold dust flies & floats
Around all of us
To spread the message of LOVE
To FREE us from life's delusions
To fix the broken hearts
To heal the wounds and despairs
To form new connections
Between stranger seeking LOVE
The Golden speckle of LOVE dust
Lives in a ZERO gravity world
Without prisons of morals/ ethics
Traditions, scriptures, laws & religions
Thus enabling its own vectors of
Drivers of LOVE - push and pulls
To save the dying humanity
By experiencing and realizing
Inert lessons on core SOUL LOVE
There are billion faces
But just two blink and click
The LOVERZ AND BELOVEDZ
They unite amidst the barriers of
Walls, castles, and fake masks
The world builds to imprison them
That UNION of LOVE -
The meeting of
The LOVERz and BELOVEDz
will produce a fresh Fusion
A NEW BLACK HOLE OF LOVE
To create another
GOLDEN SPECKLE OF LOVE DUST
To fly & float around
In search of
PURE, True, Innocent
LOVERZ AND BELOVEDZ
That's how
The Golden Speckle of Dust
Keeps on creating LOVE around us
Through its SOUL's illumination
*
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC
A chance to speak,
Beneath broken sheets,
Caught out in moment,
Dying deep inside.
Evaporate tension,
From little or no knowing,
Growing up alone,
Half loved and half resented.
I come to conclusions,
Just before my death,
Keeping me in memory,
Like you always promised,
Missing me in silence,
No more mourning of past,
Of regrets and despairs.
Promise me you’ll use what I learnt,
Question the decisions of others,
Reluctant or not,
Stay away from their paths,
They only lead you to their futures,
Unknowingly you end their second,
Valiant but alone,
Where you spend life in wandering,
Xrayed life,
Your future makes up nothing
Zorbing inside of your own bubble.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 9:03 AM UTC
Sure I can understand your heart
that just assume chop garlic really
and more than imagine
the quandaries
and about the fairly's of lonely's
wide by wakeful heart of eye
I can dream about the hopes, dares
and of your despairs of your great
yet uncertain missions too
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 4:55 PM UTC
I never thought I could ever feel so nervous,
and so proud looking in the mirror.
Sister, in some ways our resemblance is uncanny
and that never makes me feel terrible.
Even if we both cling to our bottles of perfume,
nailpolish, and beer
to remedy our despairs,
I'm proud of you.
I love how you don't ever leave your effervescence at home.
It's contagious, and everyone eventually wants a sip.
You found your beauty quite recently-
but I want you to know its always been there,
it began when your eyes first became
those thick lashed squints
from smiling too hard.
You admire things, and they admire you back.
I hope you won't forget that
when you chase what seems to be difficult.
Sister, I know there are days where you
don't see what greatness you deserve,
when you believe you have to be sorry for
your *****
I know it because I've seen you, and I know it
because I do the same.
You always remind me to never apologize.
And now I do you.
Sister, don't let that crown fall over those
smiling eyes.
You are stronger than the chance you might be sad.
You are finer than the fool who won't call back.
You are better than the boy who should be a man.
You carry troubled teenage girls over your shoulders
every single day.
You save them, as much as you can and give them that warmth.
Don't forget to warm yourself.
Because the heat travels, sister.
I feel it too.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 3:24 PM UTC
They asked, "why are you as silent as a stone?"
She replied, "why should I be voluble as the Mynah? My heart and tongue are deprived of goodness just like a desert, deprived of a sea.
Another voice said, "Ergo, redundant talk comes with unbearable guilt."
They asked again, " if so, why do you not speak the despairs you hide?"
She replied, " Because, the gift of patience usually reigns.
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 8:13 AM UTC
The loneliness permeate down into the toes, walking along the sidewalk
The streets seem empty, vacant faces, hurried bodies avoiding the solace of a simple hello, their trifling stares stabbing at their incompleteness
Write pain only because the voice cannot verbalize it. We don't understand it. We don't want to
Trifling affairs taking us up, consuming us, completing us, then draining us
Walking life avoiding others, their daring greetings, their trifling
They, too, walk along the sidewalks and the gutters, getting tripped up on their own despairs Listen not to Dante's doom, that abandonment is futile
Futile fallacies, our trifling forays, our misfortunes
Street along, you masses, you unforgettable, delving into yourselves, forgetting
You cannot understand it, those trifling friendships
How do they compare to the miseries you trudge through, swamped in that which hold you back, slows you down, drowns you, chokes you
Your only connect is the carelessness of your incompleteness, contagious of complaints
That cracked sidewalk, tripping you up in its unevenness
Your shoes have rubbed out their souls, toes slamming their unending pressures
You feel defeated and oppressed. Yet you walk on
Why do you not just stop and rest? The lonely road does not end, it continues on and on unceasingly, its seasons one big blur
Year in and year out your days numbered as nothing but trifling affairs, your greetings to fellow walkers rare as encouragement from within. You have become swollen in refusing refuge from those that share that uncaring sidewalk
You balk at accepting a hand to take that lonely walk with you, it is just another pair of loneliness who seeks companionship, who only seeks to cease their own trifling affairs
Lend not your own complaints, but console and be consoled in the greeting of a walk together
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 10:37 PM UTC
Everyone thinks I'm quiet,
Shy, with very little to say.
They might even think
There's nothing going on upstairs
Because of my silent stare.
But if they'd sit down with me
Over a nice cup of tea
I'd tell them tales of *******
Fluffy, Caesar, and Fang.
I'd weave in stories of Polly,
A-town, and tar-babies.
I'd tell them what it's like
Balancing between the worlds
Of a mixed racial identity.
First love and heartbreak,
Triumphs and failures,
Cheesy puns and knock knock jokes,
Triumphs, woes, and despairs.
I have words for all these things,
If anyone would lend an ear.
Silence doesn't mean we have nothing to say.
All of us have much to say,
When we have someone to listen.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Two strange jump but collided in the same way
Months and years of for keeps
The memory of having each other
Seem like everything will be okay.
Intertwined destinies in the paths of ecstasy where regrets and tragedies have no place indefinitely
Tears in pairs in joy and sorrow
fears impaired in fogs of hollow despairs as loved is shared in the friendship declared
Crazy, silly, happy and all extreme feelings
Stepping together in the sane destined path from the universe
Oath of having each other's back
And their galaxies explode into a beautiful disaster
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 8:35 AM UTC
*
I see you every moment
Within and around me
Still why my eyes are
Searching for YOU?
Oh kind blessed BELOVED of mine
My soul is seeking your touch
I wish an auspicious 2017
Greetings for my BELOVED
May be it was not our destiny
To cross roads last year 2016
Let us hope for change in 2017
I've sent my Greetings to my BELOVED
I am waiting for the miracle to happen
Even the heart of the earth
Even the spirit of the ocean
Even the soul of the sky
Are cracking listening to
My plight of LOVE
I pray my LOVE
Touches your soul
If it was not in our fate in 2016
Let LOVE be our destiny in 2017
I know that for my BELOVED
There is no in-equality
There is always rights - human rights
A fight for empowerment of LOVE
Everyone who shows LOVE
Is tendered with grace, kindness & care
To whoever my BELOVED touches
Will live thereafter in peaceful calm
I know I am very far from my BELOVED
From the aura of BELOVED'z magic
Someone come, tell & show my LOVE
To my BELOVED and
Grant me a relief from my despairs
I live compelled by sadness of
Time cycle of days & nights
Everyone is allowed to see BELOVED'z
Flowers except me,
Why I've been given thorns to walk on?
BELOVED, you know it all, so
What else I should say to YOU?
Just give me a sign from there
My stars sparkle due to your benevolence
Like a mother-baby,
It is not good to keep
Us separated for long
You know I am ready to exchange
Even my life for your sake
I wish an auspicious year of 2017
To everyone
Oh my BELOVED
May be it was not our destiny
To cross roads last year 2016
Let us hope for better in 2017
*
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 12:14 AM UTC
I woke up this mornin’,
All wound-up, down in the deep,
Laid-back under the haystack half asleep,
When she pulled up
In her Cadillac, uh huh,
And pointed to the two pillows
In the back, uh huh.
But will she get to me?
We shall see.
Out behind the barn
We tore thru the broomcorn plots;
Then up in the loft,
She cut the tops of my bootstraps off;
But she fits the bill
All by herself, uh huh;
All nine-yards on
A five-foot shelf, uh huh.
But will she get to me?
We shall see.
When autumn has rolled
Past the summer’s fold,
If the line goes slack,
If the wheels won’t go,
‘Cause I’ve never cried,
Not when mother died,
Nor this mornin’
When you went away —— ——
Was it then?
Or was it yesterday?
I told her: “It’s not fair!
It despairs the spirit of man,
To give a slave to their fate
Just to pay them to slave on demand!”
Then she said to me
While she was fixin’ her hair, uh huh:
“Some loser’s always tryin’
To make the whole world fair,” uh huh.
But will she get to me?
We shall see.
When autumn has rolled
Past the summer’s fold,
If the line goes slack,
If the wheels won’t go,
‘Cause I’ve never cried,
Not when mother died,
Nor this mornin’
When you went away —— ——
Was it then?
Or was it yesterday?
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 7:48 PM UTC