MY GRANNY IS HAYLEY FROM THE BRATAYLEY YOUTUBE SITE

YOU SEE, IVY GIMBERT WHO WAS MY GRANNY, LEFT HER LIFE

IN JANUARY 2004, WHEN I WAS SICK, AND RE ENTERED THE WORLD

AS ANNA IN BRATAYLEY, YOU SEE WHAT MY GRAN IS HOPING

TO ACHIEVE, IS HER GRANDSONS ALL OVER AUSTRALIA

WILL WATCH HER VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE, YOU SEE YOUTUBE STARTED

IN 2004, AND BUDDHA MADE IVY ANNA BECAUSE, THIS IS A WAY

TO REFORM MY EVIL JINGLES LIKE OOPS PLEASE KIDNAP CHRIS

YA KNOW TAKE HIM HOSTAGE TIE HIM UP AND, ANOTHER THING TOO

BUDDHA, WANTED FOR MY GRAN TO BE A HIT IN CYBER SPACE

SO GRAN AND NAN, CAN BE TWO INTERNET SENSATIONS, YOU

SEE NAN IS JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, GRAN IS ANNE, AND ANNE

IS THE OLDEST SISTER, I AM SURE, GRAN IS TRYING TO SHOW

HOW SHE ACTUALLY WAS, BECAUSE, A LOT OF PEOPLE REMEMBER

HER BRI URN, AND ME TRYING TO SHOWSHE IS LIKE  LIKE THE BIG KIDS, BUT BUDDHA REALLY

THOUGHT, IT’LL BE HEAPS BETTER TO PUT IVY INTO ANOTHER GIRL

YEAH, THIS WILL BE FUN SAID IVY, AND IVY WAS PLAYING AROUND IN CYBER SPACE

WITH NAN AND GRAN, AND THEY STARTED UP THESE CLUBS UP IS SPACE

WHERE I CAN PLAY AND HAVE FUN, YOU SEE GRAN IS A BIT DIFFERENT AS SHE

IS GOOFING AROUND AND NAN, IS A 14 YEAR OLD SINGER, SHOWING OFF HER

CREATIVITY WITH THE GUITAR, THROUGH JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, AND, AT PRESENT

HAYLEY IS ENJOYING BEING THE CENTRE OF ATTENTION WITH HER SISTER ANNIE,WHO IS GRAN

AND BROTHER CALEB WHO IS PETER SARGENT, A FORMER KEANE PLACE KID WHO KILLED HIMSELF

WHO DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT, AND THESE 3 KIDS ARE KNOWN AS THE BRATS, WHILE JOHN

ROBERT RIMEL IS WORKING ON BEING A MUSICIAN, AND THE REASON WHY I KNOW THIS IS

BRIAN ALLAN IN CANBERRA IS CRONUS, AND WATCHES EVERY LIFE, GO FROM DEATH OF LAST LIFE

TO BIRTH OF NEW LIFE, CURRENTLY I AM KEEPING OUR FAMILY TOGETHER, THROUGH BUDDHISM

YA SEE, I HAVE A SPECIAL GIFT, OF BEING THERE IN PREVIOUS LIVES, MY VOICES ARE THE AFTERLIFE

I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I AM CRONUS, DUDES, AND IN 2003 I WAS SICK, WHEN I WISHED GRAN DEAD, I DIDN’T MEAN TO

BUT I CAN ASSURE YOU, BUDDHA TOOK CRONUS OFF ME, SO I CAN THINK ABOUT MY SPECIAL GIFT OF LIFE

BUT I MUST BE CAREFUL, THE INTERNET AND SOCIAL MEDIA, ARE THE BEST WAYS OF GETTING YOUR STORY OUT

MY GRAN IS ANNE FROM BRATAYLEY NAN IS JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, DAD IS ELIZABETH CAMPBELL,

MARK JONES IS SUPERSONIC 3 YEAR OLD LIAM, AND THERE ARE HEAPS MORE TO NAME

MY GRAN REALLY ENJOYS BEING HAYLEY, YA SEE IT’S HER FAVOURITE

THE PARTY IN THE AFTERLIFE, WITH IVY GIMBERT, MAKING THE WIGS AN IN THING, AND A CHEAP WAY

FOR BRIAN TO BE CREATIVE, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BRIAN’S TAPESTRIES

AND IVY’S NEXT LIFE ANNE'S FAMILY HAD A PINK HAIR WIG, JUST LIKE MY SUSIE WIG

AND MY GRANDMA WHEN SHE SAYS BRIAN’S LIKE US, COULD SHE MEANS ONE OF THE CREATIVE FAMILIES

I AM PARANORMAL, I CAN’T HELP IT’S A BELIEF

For those among us who lived by the rules,
Lived frugal lives of *****-scratching desperation;
For those who sustained a zombie-like state for 30 or 40 years,
For these few, our lucky few—
We bequeath an interactive Life-Alert emergency dog tag,
Or better still a dog, a colossal pet beast,
A humongous Harlequin Dane to feed,
For that matter, why not buy a few new cars before you die?
Your home mortgage is, after all, dead and buried.
We gave you senior-citizen rates for water, gas & electricity—
“The Big 3,” as they are known in certain Gasoline Alley-retro
Neighborhoods among us,
Our parishes and boroughs.
All this and more, had you lived small,
Had you played by the rules for Smurfs & Serfs.

We leave you the chance to treat your grandkids
Like Santa’s A-List clientele,
“Good ‘ol Grampa,” they’ll recollect fondly,
“Sweet Grammy Strunzo, they will sigh.
What more could you want in retirement?

You’ve enabled another generation of deadbeat grandparents,
And now you’re next in line for the ice floe,
To be taken away while still alive,
Still hunched over and wheezing,
On a midnight sleigh ride,
Your son, pulling the proverbial Eskimo sled,
Down to some random Arctic shore,
Placing you gently on the ice floe.
Your son; your boy--
A true chip off the igloo, so to speak.
He leaves you on the ice floe,
Remembering not to leave the sled,
The proverbial Sled of Abbandono,
The one never left behind,
As it would be needed again,
Why not a home in storage while we wait?
The family will surely need it sometime down the line.

A dignified death?
Who can afford one these days?
The question answers itself:
You are John Goodman in “The Big Lebowski.”
You opt for an empty 2-lb can of Folgers.
You know: "The best part of waking up, is Folger's in your cup!"
That useless mnemonic taught us by “Mad Men.”
Slogans and theme songs imbibe us.

Zombie accouterments,
Provided by America’s Ruling Class.
Thank you Lewis H. Lapham for giving it to us straight.
Why not go with the aluminum Folgers can?
Rather than spend the $300.00 that mook funeral director
Tries to shame you into coughing up,
For the economy-class “Legacy Urn.”
An old seduction:  Madison Avenue’s Gift of Shame.
Does your **** smell?” asks a sultry voice,
Igniting a carpet bomb across the 20-45 female cohort,
2 billion pathetically insecure women,
Spending collectively $10 billion each year—
Still a lot of money, unless it’s a 2013
Variation on an early 1930s Germany theme;
The future we’ve created;
The future we deserve.

Now a wheelbarrow load of paper currency,
Scarcely buy a loaf of bread.
Even if you’re lucky enough to make it,
Back to your cave alive,
After shopping to survive.
Women spend $10 billion a year for worry-free *****.
I don’t read The Wall Street Journal either,
But I’m pretty **** sure,
That “The Feminine Hygiene Division”
Continues to hold a corner office, at
Fear of Shame Corporate Headquarters.
Eventually, FDS will go the way of the weekly ******.
Meanwhile, in God & vaginal deodorant we trust,
Something you buy just to make sure,
Just in case the *** Gods send you a gift.
Some 30-year old **** buddy,
Some linguistically gifted man or woman,
Some he or she who actually enjoys eating your junk:
“Oh Woman, thy name is frailty.”
“Oh Man, thou art a Woman.”
“Oh Art is for Carney in “Harry & Tonto,”
Popping the question: “Dignity in Old Age?”
Will it too, go the way of the weekly ******?
It is pointless to speculate.
Mouthwash--Roll-on antiperspirants--Depends.
Things our primitive ancestors did without,
Playing it safe on the dry savannah,
Where the last 3 drops evaporate in an instant,
Rather than go down your pants,
No matter how much you wiggle & dance.
Think about it!

Think cemeteries, my Geezer friends.
Of course, your first thought is
How nice it would be, laid to rest
In the Poets’ Corner at Westminster Abbey.
Born a ******. Died a ******. Laid in the grave?
Or Père Lachaise,
Within a stone’s throw of Jim Morrison--
Lying impudently,
Embraced, held close by loving soil,
Caressed, held close by a Jack Daniels-laced mud pie.
Or, with Ulysses S. Grant, giving new life to the quandary:
Who else is buried in the freaking tomb?
Bury my heart with Abraham in Springfield.
Enshrine my body in the Taj Mahal,
Build for me a pyramid, says Busta Cheops.

Something simple, perhaps, like yourself.
Or, like our old partner in crime:
Lee Harvey, in death, achieving the soul of brevity,
Like Cher and Madonna a one-name celebrity,
A simple yet obscure grave stone carving:  OSWALD.
Perhaps a burial at sea? All the old salts like to go there.
Your corpse wrapped in white duct/duck tape,
Still frozen after months of West Pac naval maneuvers,
The CO complying with the Department of the Navy Operations Manual,
Offering this service on « An operations-permitting basis, »
About as much latitude given any would-be Ahab,
Shortlisted for Command-at-sea.
So your body is literally frozen stiff,
Frozen solid for six months packed,
Spooned between 50-lb sacks of green beans & carrots.
Deep down in the deep freeze,
Within the Deep Freeze :
The ship’s storekeeper has a cryogenic *******
Deep down in his private sanctuary,
Privacy in the bowels of the ship.
While up on deck you slide smoothly down the pine plank,
Old Glory billowing in the sea breeze,
Emptying you out into the great abyss of
Some random forlorn ocean.

Perhaps you are a ******* lunatic?
Maybe you likee—Shut the **** up, Queequeg !
Perhaps you want a variation on the burial-at-sea option ?
Here’s mine, as presently set down in print,
Lawyer-prepared, notarized and filed at the Court of the Grand Vizier,
Copies of same in safe deposit boxes,
One of many benefits Chase offers free to disabled Vets,
Demonstrating, again, my zombie-like allegiance to the rules.
But I digress.
« The true measure of one’s life »
Said most often by those we leave behind,
Is the wealth—if any—we leave behind.
The fact that we cling to bank accounts,
Bank safe deposit boxes,
Legal aide & real estate,
Insurance, and/or cash . . .
Just emphasizes the foregone conclusion,
For those who followed the rules.
Those of us living frugally,
Sustaining the zombie trance all these years.
You can jazz it up—go ahead, call it your « Work Ethic. »
But you might want to hesitate before you celebrate
Your unimpeachable character & patriotism.

What is the root of Max Weber’s WORK ETHIC concept?
‘Tis one’s grossly misplaced, misguided, & misspent neurosis.
Unmasked, shown vulnerably pink & naked, at last.
Truth is: The harder we work, the more we lay bare
The Third World Hunger in our souls.
But again, I digress.  Variation on a Theme :
At death my body is quick-frozen.
Then dismembered, then ground down
To the consistency of water-injected hamburger,
Meat further frozen and Fedex-ed to San Diego,
Home of our beloved Pacific Fleet.
Stowed in a floating Deep Freeze where glazed storekeepers
Sate the lecherous Commissary Officer,
Aboard some soon-to-be underway—
Underway: The Only Way
Echo the Old Salts, a moribund Greek Chorus
Goofing still on the burial-at-sea concept.

Underway to that sacred specific spot,
Let's call it The Golden Shellback,
Where the Equator intersects,
Crosses perpendicular,
The International Dateline,
Where my defrosted corpse nuggets,
Are now sprinkled over the sea,
While Ray Charles sings his snarky
Child Support & Alimony
His voice blasting out the 1MC,
She’s eating steak.  I’m eating baloney.
Ray is the voice of disgruntlement,
Palpable and snide in the trade winds,
Perhaps the lost chord everyone has been looking for:
Laughing till we cry at ourselves,
Our small corpse kernels, chum for sharks.

In a nutshell—being the crazy *******’ve come to love-
Chop me up and feed me to the Orcas,
Just do it ! NIKE!
That’s right, a $commercial right in the middle of a ******* poem!
Do it where the Equator crosses the Dateline :
A sailors’ sacred vortex: isn’t it ?
Wouldn’t you say, Shipmates, one and all?
I’m talking Conrad’s Marlow, here, man!
Call me Ishmael or Queequeg.
Thor Heyerdahl or Tristan Jones,
Bogart’s Queeq & Ensign Pulver,
Wayward sailors, one and all.
And me, of course, aboard the one ride I could not miss,
Even if it means my Amusement Park pass expires.
Ceremony at sea ?
Absolutely vital, I suppose,
Given the monotony and routine,
Of the ship’s relentlessly vacant seascape.
« There is nothing so desperately monotonous as the sea,
And I no longer wonder at the cruelty of pirates. «
So said James Russell Lowell,
One of the so-called Fireside Poets,
With Longfellow and Bryant,
Whittier, the Quaker and Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.,
19th Century American hipsters, one and all.

Then there’s CREMATION,
A low-cost option unavailable to practicing Jews.
« Ashes to ashes »  remains its simplest definition.
LOW-COST remains its operant phrase & universal appeal.
No Deed to a 2by6by6 foot plot of real estate,
Paid for in advance for perpetuity—
Although I suggest reading the fine print—
Our grass--once maintained by Japanese gardeners--
Now a lost art in Southern California,
Now that little Tokyo's finest no longer
Cut, edge & manicure, transform our lawns
Into a Bonsai ornamental wonderland.
Today illegal/legal Mexicans employing
More of a subtropical slash & burn technique.

Cremation : no chunk of marble,
No sandstone, wood or cardboard marker,
Plus the cost of engraving and site installation.
Quoth the children: "****, you’re talking $30K to
Put the old ****** in the ground? Cheap **** never
Gave me $30K for college, let alone a house down payment.
What’s my low-cost, legitimate disposal going to run me?"

CREMATION : they burn your corpse in Auschwitz ovens.
You are reduced to a few pounds of cigar ash.
Now the funeral industry catches you with your **** out.
You must (1) pay to have your ashes stored,
Or (2) take them away in a gilded crate that,
Again, you must pay for.
So you slide into Walter Sobjak,
The Dude’s principal amigo,
And bowling partner in the
Brothers Coen masterpiece: The Big Lebowski.
You head to the nearest Safeway for a 2-lb can of Folgers.
And while we’re on the subject of cremation & the Jews,
Think for a moment on the horror of The Holocaust:
Dispossessed & utterly destroyed, one last indignity:
Corpses disposed of by cremation,
For Jews, an utterly unacceptable burial rite.
Now before we leave Mr. Sobjak,
Who is, as you know, a deeply disturbed Vietnam vet,
Who settles bowling alley protocol disputations,
By brandishing, by threatening the weak-minded,
With a loaded piece, the same piece John Turturro—
Stealing the movie as usual, this time as Jesus Quintana—
Bragging how he will stick it up Walter’s culo,
Pulling the trigger until it goes: Click-Click-Click!
Terrestrial burial or cremation?
For me:  Burial at Sea:
Slice me, dice me into shark food.

Or maybe something a la Werner von Braun:
Your dead meat shot out into space;
A personal space probe & voyager,
A trajectory of one’s own choosing?

Oh hell, why not skip right down to the nitty gritty bottom line?
Current technology: to wit, your entire life record,
Your body and history digitized & downloaded
To a Zip Drive the size of the average *******,
A data disc then Fedex-ed anywhere in the galaxy,
Including exotic burial alternatives,
Like some Martian Kilimanjaro,
Where the tiger stalks above the clouds,
Nary a one with a freaking clue that can explain
Just what the cat was doing up so high in the first place.
Or, better still, inside a Sherpa’s ***** pack,
A pocket imbued with the same Yak dung,
Tenzing Norgay massages daily into his *******,
Defending the Free World against Communism & crotch rot.
(Forgive me: I am a child of the Cold War.)
Why not? Your life & death moments
Zapped into a Zip Drive, bytes and bits,
Submicroscopic and sublime.
So easy to delete, should your genetic subgroup
Be targeted for elimination.
About now you begin to realize that
A two-pound aluminum Folgers can
Is not such a bad idea.
No matter; the future is unpersons,
The Ministry of Information will in charge.
The People of Fort Meade--those wacky surveillance folks--
Cloistered in the rolling hills of Anne Arundel County.
That’s who will be calling the shots,
Picking the spots from now on.
Welcome to Cyber Command.
Say hello to Big Brother.
Say “GOOD-BYE PRIVACY.”

Meanwhile, you’re spending most of your time
Fretting ‘bout your last rites--if any—
Burial plots on land and sea, & other options,
Such as whether or not to go with the
Concrete outer casket,
Whether or not you prefer a Joe Cocker,
Leon Russell or Ray Charles 3-D hologram
Singing at your memorial service.
While I am fish food for the Golden Shellbacks,
I am a fine young son of Neptune,
We are Old Salts, one and all,
Buried or burned or shot into space odysseys,
Or digitized on a data disc the size of
An average human *******.
Snap outta it, Einstein!
Like everyone else,
You’ve been fooled again.

You reasonless hate  me in manner devoid of vogue,
Coz you are threatened by my skin color,
Utterly refusing to appreciate my melanin humanity
Your faith lulls you that I am a Tarzan,
Dwindling away from humanity,
My poetry to you is only bombshell
Of dangerously  vulpine civilization,
You solace yourself in your miss-audience to me,
Wistful in your hearty that your detest for me
Will become a force enough to counter my being,
You are very wrong my brother,
Goofing in full measure of your idiosyncrasy
In its present grammar of dance banquet,
I only pity you  as none will ever be able to  heal you
To  free you  from your silly bug of desperate racism.

You left.
What's up?
Did the WhatsApp offend?
Did we fail to delight?
Or is it just that you're too busy tonight?
We were chatting
Exchanging
Goofing
Emojing
But all of a sudden
It was clear you were leaving.
(Sad-face-crying)
- What'sUp?

Remember the time
I thought I liked you
But it only lasted a week.
Remember the time
I cursed for the first time;
And it was at you.

Remember the time
I liked you for an entire year
And obsessed over you.
Remember the time
You teased me everyday.

Remember the time
We used to take piano from the same woman
And I saw you at a lesson one day.
Remember the time
You told me about the night
The black thing came to you,
Up your arm.

Remember the time
We spent backstage
Goofing off.
Remember the time
I wrote about how much I hated you
In my diary,
Everyday.

Remember the time
I dated your best friend
And you were the obligatory third wheel.
Remember the time
You threatened to punch me
Because I made fun of the girl you liked.

Remember the time
We spent during choir practice
Looking at squirrels through the window.
Remember the time
You told me
"I don't care what homeroom I have,
As long as you're not in it."

Remember the time
The stinkbug kept following your shoes
In Spanish class.
Remember the time
You threw a pinecone at me
Because I deserved it.

Remember the time
We sat together in all our classes.
Remember the time
I dreamed about you
Dying
In my front room.

Remember the time
We Skyped for three hours.
Remember the time
I beat you up
Because I was angry.

Remember the time
My two best friends started dating
Because you finally got up the courage and asked her.
Remember the time
You told me you wanted to break up with her.

Remember the time
You stole my Sharpies
Until I asked him out.
Remember the time
You broke up with her
And avoided me for a week.

Remember the time
We spent after school,
Studying for Spanish.
Remember the time
I was scared of you
But walked with you,
In silence.

Remember the time
You had a rave in class
And asked me to tape it.
Remember the time
I cut myself
And you got mad at me
And we spoke even less.

Remember the time
The algebra teacher threatened to separate us
Because we talked too much in class.
Remember the time
I messaged you
And messaged you
And you wouldn't answer.

Remember the time
You and your mum invited me to dinner.
Remember the time
I saw you for the first time
In two months
And, despite the same clothes
And hair,
You looked like a stranger.

Remember the time
You asked him out for me.
Remember the time
We Skyped for five minutes
And had nothing to say.

Remember the time
You held my hand all period
Because you were cold.
Remember the time
You told me you were insane
And we couldn't be like we used to.

Remember the time
You told me not to worry,
That we were still the same, relationship-wise.

Remember the time
You told me not to cry
But I did.

Remember the time
You held me while I sobbed,
The first time you'd ever seen me cry.

Remember the time
You assured me you'd be fine.

Remember the time
I shook while you held my hands.

Remember the time
You hugged me after class,
A week later
And I nearly cried of happiness.

Remember the times.

Do you remember the times?
Because it seems all I'm doing these days
Is remembering you.

Pathetic.
That’s what I’d call you.
Just plain miserable
and manipulative.
You tricked me into giving you the world .
Deceived me into believing that you’d never do me *****
You blinded me by your lies
“Forget about them , you have me.”
But , I didn’t really have you ..
Did I ?
You took what you wanted .
You let me put you before myself .
But ?
I don’t even blame you .
Maybe if I would’ve been in your position ,
Being offered the world
And only being asked for friendship in return ..
Maybe then I would’ve robbed you of your trust .
And your love .

You were my best friend .
My ace ,
My platonic soulmate .
And I treated you as much .
But, what was I ?
To you ,
What was I ?
A personal tutor ?
Remember those last two essays that you just couldn’t get done ?
Who helped you ?
Who stayed up after an exhausting day at work ,
After having to bike home in the cold and rain ?
Just so you could pass and not worry.
Maybe , I was just a free ride .
Always taking you places ,
Always giving you the keys and letting you do whatever.
You filled the tank maybe twice
within a nine month period .
And I never once said anything .
Oh I got it , I was your ATM.
Whenever you needed money ,
I was glad to help .
Whether it was for an Uber so you could go to your volleyball tournament
Since your own “mother” couldn’t take you
Or whether it was for a Plan B because
YIKES
Your boyfriend didn’t know how to pull out .
Hm , I guess I was also a personal shopper .
Buying you clothes when I bought me some .
You didn’t wanna spend your money ?
That was fine .
I would spend mine
And you didn’t even have to ask.
I was everything except your friend
and that’s all I wanted to be .

I should’ve seen this coming .
I should have KNOWN .
Looking back
All I can see are the signs ,
Foreshadowing what was to come .
You started to change right in front of my own eyes
but I didn’t want to believe it .
Didn’t want to believe what I could clearly see .
You started to ignore me .
For days on end .
Living in the same house became something like a
Silent war .
Everyone against me .
Including you .
You started to disappear into your room .
There were no more lifetime movie marathons together .
No more staying up and goofing around together .
No more talking about any and everything together .
I lost you way before I knew I lost you
and that makes my heart ache
like a pre-existing bruise
getting hit over and over again .

Getting Ready
On the go
Doing things
Need a blow

Giddy gaggle
Endless Gags
Toothy giggles
Tongues a wag

Dressing up
Getting down
Goofing off
Clownin round

Pretty girls
Wearing pearls
Dancing Swirls
Fluffy Furls

Blowing Kisses
Giving Hugs
Singing Ditties
Cut a Rug

Buoyant Banter
Flashing Smiles
Bubbly Blabber
Smoking Milds

Shakin *****
Gettin Down
Wigglin *******
Goofy Gowns

Keep a Groovin
Boogie all night
Shake Them Legs
Les Dames et Dynomite

Oakland
8/23/01

Music Selection:
Jackson 5
Dancing Machine

Like a tank he barges in
talking loud shaking hands
hard almost mad.
  Yeh thats my dad.
   Your opinions be ******
while his are grand
his advice taken
not To be forsaken
or he'll  be mad.
  That's my dad.
His lessons you'll learn
or you'll  get burned
by the outside world
or some sneaky girl
don't question or you'll end up sad.
That's my dad.
   No laziness or wallowing
his rules are for following
no goofing around
sun up to sun down,
eee  gad!
Yeh that's my dad.
But in the end it's true,
he's the only father that I knew
now he's dead
our family head
He's the only father I ever had.
Yeh that's my dad.

Being in light
Teasing my eyes blurry blind
Can’t see anything at all
I fall awake to the sounds of the neighbors dogs and the sky falling on my head
Check around, is that a gun blast or mountain
Going by
Shadow of my own moving fast on the wall
Goofing off behind me shadow of the sun
Burn a hole down enough to scare me on my own

Who are you Sang?
I know the body your face belongs to,
I saw him a few days ago at my brother's school
But you're a different person,
You're born of my dreams
Long black hair
And tall lanky body
In my dream you were my age
Following me around high school
But your real life doppelganger
Was just goofing off with his friends
Why did you so capture my dreaming mind?
And why did I name you?
I've never named a dreamizen before
And so what's up with 'Sanguine'?

Always happy to see me
showers me with kisses
Thats how I know
Im the one she misses
When I've had a bad day
She dosent ask why
She just cuddles closer
In case i need a good cry
We love goofing around
And having fun at play.
We make time for that
Every single day
So its not hard to see
Maybe you've guessed
but my do is more than my friend
She the very best!

I don't like parties.
I generally avoid them.
But one night
I allow myself to get dragged along
To one such gathering
Against my better judgement.

But that's not my greatest fear.

At the party
The drink is flowing
And people start to do stupid things.
Lots of goofing around
Photographs are taken
Including one of me
With a bra draped over my head
And two cocktail sausages
Stuck up my nose.

But that's not my greatest fear.

After the party
I stagger home
Drunk
And somehow
For reasons which aren't clear
I am abducted
By a group of armed terrorists.

But that's not my greatest fear.

I remain in captivity
For ten years
And during that time
Occasional appeals are made
For my release
And each time I am mentioned on TV
They show the last photo taken of me

...With a bra draped over my head
And two cocktail sausages
Stuck up my nose.

And that,
Ladies and gentlemen,
Is my very greatest fear.

I try to help, but cant.
I try making her happy, useless.
I think about long walks down the road,  endless talks, giggling and goofing but its too late.
I think about just making her smile like I used to, but cant, nothing to smile about any more.
Im worried because she is worried.
Im sad and depressed, because she is sad and depressed.

But...
she doesn't notice the good times like I do.
The smiles I get from her,
The love I embrace from her,
The joy I get from her,
The life I live... Because of her.
             I know im a disappointment
That im broken
In debt
Joy *******
Lazy
Arrogant
Stubborn
Grouchy
Selfish
....boyfriend that only really asks to have you sleep next to me in the bed because having your beautiful smile to wake up to, makes it all worth it.
I love you, and all that you do for me. Im sorry im this way, but believe me when I say I try baby, im still trying and ill never give up, im sorry you fell in love with...
A broken man.

One day it all just fell apart.
You were the closest thing to my heart.
We went from laughing, and talking,
to ignoring, and fighting.
I don’t know how it went down.
We slowly drifted apart.
You were the best thing that happened to me.
Now all I have is me.
I lost my best friend that day,
In the most horrible way.
Growing up shouldn’t exist,
if it means splitting, the Twins.
I miss the walks.
I miss the talks.
I miss the goofing around.
You were the one person that accepted me for me.
And not for someone else.
I miss cuddling up and watching a movie.
I miss singing in the hairbrush and being all groovy.
I miss going into your room and telling you, I couldn’t sleep.
Cause I’d know you’d stay up, even if it was just for me.
I don’t know who I’d be,
if I didn’t have you.
I don’t know what I’d do,
if I was forced to live with you.
But I’ll try to move on.
I’ll try to be strong.
I’ll try to be the best me
that I could ever be.
But I miss running up and giving you hugs.
Discussing how gross are bugs.
I miss seeing your face at the dinner table.
I miss saying “I’m sorry” for whatever did.
I guess all in all.
I just miss YOU.

One day you're hugging me
Laughing till our stomachs hurt
Calling me your other half,
your twin.

The next day,
I receive your cold shoulder
Everything we were yesterday,
It's gone.

No more laughing,
But ignoring.
I don't hear your voice talking to me anymore,
But to someone else's.
I ask you a question,
you let the silence respond.

At night
I can't sleep,
trying to figure out what I did wrong.
What did I say?
What did I do?

I know you well enough,
To have a feeling what the problem is.
But I can't accept that feeling,
Because you're just too stubborn
To admit I'm right.
I'm being punished for being right.
Is that even fair?

But I want your company,
I want your voice talking to me
I want you next to me,
joking, goofing around.
I need that.

So I wait,
Knowing it's just a phase.
A phase that happens one too many times.

This cycle just keeps going on,
And I can't stop it.
Deep down I know,
That I have to let you go.
You're toxic.
You will be the death of me.
But I can't bring myself to do that.
I love your other side way too much.

So I just wait.
My heart continuously breaking.
I'm constantly trying to sew it back.
But what's done is done.

And one day,
All my heart will be given to you.
But your heart is far away talking to someone else.
Because I cared too much,
Trying to help you
Left me with this silent treatment.
Trying to speak my mind
Left me with a cold shoulder.

You said you loved me,
But sometimes I was just a stranger to you.
Maybe you were bipolar.
But that's no reason to forgive the way you treated me.

As the dancing rain's toasting
The wooing wind is boasting.
Chin chin the rain drops cheering
On the roasting concrete roofing.

Cleaning the wind went goofing
Around the window curtains
Throwing the dusty dry leaves
Tweeting the twigs on fountains
Beating the rain wet hot heaves
Of love laden sighs certain
Wanting to dance with  dear rain
Wooing her love in prime time...

Chin chin they rhyme the refrain
The coy rain slip from his grips
Whisking they fall flat holding
Each others hands unfolding
The wind to chase their lean hips
Bending they freak into creaks
As the dancing rain's toasting
The wooing wind is boasting
'Midst this mid-summer hustings.

Went to buy comics and though of creating my own
With witty characters and villains who might one day take over the world
I have an inner nerd and want to get it out
Society is always a joy **** you be what your saying and ill do what suits me best
I'm one who could relate to my collects two best friends goofing off and the hero of the day
I'm creating many new dimensions for character give them a world and home before they enter the main plot of the story
I'm in my mind creating a world that makes sense and feels right for my characters the comic would be a fun adventure everyone would enjoy.

My name is Saddam Hussein Al tikrit
Please don’t shoot me, I have complied,
Let me come out of my hideout
Out of this hole in which I have been hiding,
For sure ,I want to surrender to your might
By acceding to appalling condition of my Arabic folly
Imbued to me as a legacy of my childhood trials,
Perpetrated unto me by my foster parenthood
My Arabic uncle ,who often whacked me my skin
To thwart my good manners into defiance disorder,
He pummeled me often, as if I was  an African antelope in the trap,
He misled me to amass weapon of mass destruction,
Goofing in  my dreams to decimate the synagogue of Satan,
Only to ire  my holy big brother  of the capital cosmology,
Catapulting him in to an imperial overture;
Zero option but to declared unto me a holy preemptive war
In which I am beaten like a desert lout
By the global powers that  have been
In my foolish stamped of the clash,
Very classical  clash about civilisation.

I’ve given up
But sometimes
I still dream

Love by a lake
Watching the water
Shimmering
With her eyes
Hazel and glimmering
Laughter
The best happily ever after

Love in a blizzard
Snow blind with affection
Warming each other
Lost in folded arms
Deep in conversation
Gazes uninterrupted
And laughter
The best happily ever after

Love on the river
Steamboat journey
Historical tour
With tea
Her and me
Me and her
Sharing our history
Reading each other’s poetry
And laughter
The best happily ever after

Love in the city
At the library
Then a bookstore
Hit the nightlife
Like live music
And poetry readings
Small quiet cafes
And deep conversation
And laughter
The best happily ever after

Love by the ocean
Resting on a beach
And now I realize
Half my fantasies
Involve water
The ocean chasing the shore
Sand beneath my feet
And in-between my toes
With coconuts
That I can never break
No matter how hard I try
Her eyes gleaming
When I am beaming
Goofing around
Being her clown
And laughter
The best happily ever after

Love in the evening
Believing
Now will last forever
Love in afternoon
The back bedroom
The bathroom
Love in the early morn
Sleeping till noon
Love in a nursing home
Holding her hand
While she lay sleeping
Tears start creeping
The memories keep me smiling
Saving some laughter
The closest thing to happily ever after

...

1. I had a crush on you for two years but we were never friends. I don't know why I was so heartbroken, it was elementary school. I can laugh about it now but I remember being so hurt from it. I never loved you, but I guess I did for what nine year old me knew love to be at the time. The only reason I got over you was because once we hit middle school I only ever saw you a handful of times and eventually it burned out.

2. We were somewhat friends, but I knew completely that nothing would ever happen between us. I had my moments of being upset but I pretty quickly learned to be okay with everything, but I wish I stayed hung up on you rather than suddenly crashing into 3.

3. You were the first person I ever actually trusted with my heart. You were the first person to ever say you have feelings for me and I had thought I felt the same way back, but I know now that I never really loved you as anything more than a friend. I feel guilty for that, but I was only thirteen and you did an infinite amount of worse things to me. I loved you deeply as a friend but you did nothing but manipulate and abuse me. You lied to me about everything possible. I realized that you never loved me, even as a friend, because you are incapable of that. You are cold. You are sick. You were just feeding off my aching soul and always got a kick out of seeing me on the brink of death. You completely ******* destroyed me and left me wanting nothing but to disappear forever. What we had was not a relationship, and I'm not saying that to make myself feel better. Two months of being abused is not a relationship, it's an experience, one I wish I never had. I managed to get away but the scars still remain and the fear still lingers. The vile words you said to me still vibrate inside my head. It's been three years since we last spoke and I am still scared of everything that you are. I still write about you with the same poisonous anger I had from day one. You are the only person that I truly hate and that I can physically never forgive. Congratulations.

4. I don't know what you were. I think you were just a stepping stone I so desperately was trying to find just to know that I can have feelings for someone after 3 left me crying on the cold bathroom floor gasping for air. I knew you would never have any feelings for me back, you couldn't, we'd only ever be friends, but even that started to fall apart too. I was distraught over our friendship fading into the void for months, you had made me so happy and I loved goofing off with you. But after meeting new people in high school I decided that I should focus on 5 since I'd have a much better chance. I still see you around and you messaged me a month ago and it threw me off. I don't have any feelings for you at all anymore, but it's weird to see you and know how I used to feel and how dramatic I was over losing someone who never really cared.

5. You came into my life when I needed it most. You gave me genuine happiness and made me genuinely excited to wake up in the morning just so I could see you before class. Things haven't always been the best between us, but we made amends and always fought through this hell of a life together, even if that meant arguing with each other from time to time too. We both grew together. You are the first person I've ever truly been in love with, and that's such a big deal for me since I was fully convinced after 3 I was never going to trust and be happy with anyone. I didn't think I could physically love after being so destroyed and abused. I knew you'd be important to me from the moment I saw you, and that sounds so childish. I know you can't love someone without knowing them, but I had a feeling, that hunch of knowing you would be something valuable in my life. I've gone through love and heartbreak with you. Watching you love and have feelings for others has been one of the most painful experiences of my entire life, but I tried my hardest to be supportive and happy for you, just like a friend should. But I'm sorry that I love you. You never asked that of me, you never asked me to love you as anything more than a friend. I tried to prevent it from happening, but that's not how it works. And I tried to force myself to move on, for both of our sakes, but forcing feelings to go away only makes them stronger. I'm sorry that I still love you, even after all this time. I haven't gotten over it, and I'm not sure I ever will. I know you want someone who's fully committed and I swear that's me but it means nothing if you don't feel the same way back. But either way I promise that you are all I think about.

// k.q.h.

I think you should know
I stood out there, in the snow
and watched you walk away

it wasn't sad,
only too bad
because I wasn't finished

wasn't finished kissing you
and goofing off, like we do
there aren't enough hours

the way you make me feel
is so **** good, it can't be real
but believe me, I was there

I was there
when you touched my hair
and whispered away my worries

I was there
when you proved you care
in all those little ways

I was there
and it's not fair
that you won't be,
in a few months time

Don't leave.

It's been five years
Since I first saw you
Goofing around
with your two best friends
By the basketball net.
At that time
All I knew was:
You had a nice laugh
A charming smile
And that she loved you.
I don't know
If she ever told you
But I haven't seen her since.

O, where did all they go when he cleft?
or forever this woodpecker was chosen to be left
nothing lasts forever, as our hurts dance
with no shimmering stance
befriended with his own pallor face
to see abundance of worldly things running with no dice
while busily keeping the wastage stacked,
by alone he got thwacked
to rack every tiniest and lightest heart
for the sake to stay still in amidst of everybody’s part
unto pronounced as a best masked dancer
how poor he is by goofing off his beloved and his only one lover
by turning out his sleepy wacky head into cluttery niche
wait, he even does not aware he has been ditched

a splitting headache
accompanied by saline raindrops
are more common now
as the hours drag by.
                                                 it's just one quick packet
                                                 you have a week for this
the expectation of perfection
is absolute,
as evidenced by how easy it is
to lose the faith of those once close.
                                                 I didn't want to bother you
                                                 that was quite unexpected
the desire to be good enough
for what little is received
is outpaced only
by the desire to rest for just a moment.
                                                 stop goofing off so much
                                                 lights out early tonight, ok
only through perseverance
can one be successful
but only through failure
can one know the value of success.
                                                 calm down and walk away
                                                 in my own mind, even, I am lost
even in death we are unsafe
as the days go by
with nary a memory of all the jumble
studied and fought in life.
                                                 there's always a choice
                                                 **nothing about it can be helped

Today when i woke up, i smelled fried chicken lollipop
I stopped myself from getting up coz i was too lazy to do that.
Instead, I opened my laptop and looked at my bag unpacked
I shaked the idea of packing up, yeah right,too lazy to do that.

I looked at the screen, i saw our faces goofing
Nothing can stop me, i just stared and stared.
Someone asked me "who is that girl?"
I shrugged and said, "she is just a girl".

I was surprised by the way i answered and found myself searching
Not for the right response for the question but for the truth about how i feel
That girl isn't just a girl if she stays there on my screen
So I gave myself a minute to think for honest answers.

I kept on staring and that minute felt like hell.
Memories went on pouring like rain and filled the blanks in the air.
I faced the one who asked me, I sighed, and told her sadly,
"She's the girl i wish who was here."

I was a sweet kid, a happy child, I remember I was almost always smiling, you know except when my fathers belt came off because back then that was the norm and it hurt and it was scary and it was what it was but I survived and whatever damage that may have done isn't as bad as what I have done to myself since then.  Apparently there were a few other times I wasn't always smiling back then that I don't recall, one time in particular, a story my step mother loves to tell and in all truth I like hearing, is that one day, back around kindergarten or first grade, I had a stray dog follow me home from school and when I got to the gate of our front yard I started to yell profanities at this floppy eared creature.  Profanities that neither my step mother or I can guess how or who I would have learned them from at that age... but the story makes me laugh and smile like I use to in my childhood and its such an absurd thing to picture me back then being angry and mad and yelling at some poor dog for doing nothing more than keeping me company on my walk home.  I can't find anything on the surface of my memory to complain about when looking back to when I was naive and happy.  My father worked swing shifts or graveyard shifts and I thought graveyard shift meant he worked in a graveyard.  He even had a work ID were he was wearing a werewolf mask and had me convinced he was a werewolf.  I lived with him during school days and spent many weekends with my mom and she did all the fun stuff.  Camping, fishing, flying kites and parks and all that childhood goofing off summer day type stuff.  She made jokes and pulled pranks and was deathly afraid of snakes and I loved her and my father.  My father taught me how to be a good person, he showed me the difference between the false idealism of being a manly man over the greater reward of being a gentleman, one being sincerely concerned with the well being of others and the other being self centered and hollow in anything but the pursuit of his own satisfaction.  My mom helped too, but she was more of the wild card and the humor councler of my life.  They both always encouraged what ever my young mind thought I would want to do in life, they both showed belief in me.  Something I failed to learn how to do for myself as a became of an adult age, which was no fault of theirs.  
I can't explain or pinpoint where or what day the smiles became less frequent and the happy child drew itself back into the folds of memory past and out of present day.  I'm not miserable, I don't hate my life... I can honestly say and express gratitude for my life up to this day.  There has been far more good than bad, more friends than enemies and annoyances, more love than heartache, even if just by a little... My nights may be restless more often than not, but I've never been one to enjoy in the overindulgence of sleep and have always preferred the minutes of the moon over the hours of the sun.  
In all honesty, I'm nothing more than a goofy kid in an adult body... but still it feels like something is missing.  Some part of me is out of synch.  I have my to do list, my road to the mountain of things I want to accomplish before I'm buried or burned or sleeping at the bottom of a lake with no one knowing that I've passed on.   I have dreams of high ambition... unfortunately my motivation seems to be sleeping in.   It use to be easier to sit down and illustrate and paint and dance and sculpt and go from one thing to another... I have enough work to do stored in my sketch pads and head that I don't have to worry about running low or not having anything to do next.  Procrastination however seems to be my strongest characteristic... if it wasn't I wouldn't have written this because honestly, I don't know what I'm doing and I never had.  It just use to never get in the way before and now it's scattered all over my workspace and I can't scrub it off my desk and I can't shake it out of my bones and I just laze on the couch and watch it eat the time I should be using to get back on the road towards the mountain... tomorrow though right?

I’m goofing with the pixies
Dancing with the elves
Leaving all the ogres
Snoring by themselves.
I’m flying with the will-of-the wisps
On the route of Santa Claus.
I rest a while on a passing cloud
Whenever I need a pause.

There’s lots of space you can freely share
When you are playing in castles in the air.
First you have to get that high on the *****
To launch yourself off with a wish and a hope.
Some lose because they don’t know the ropes
Or not keeping their vision in their scope.

I love to see imaginary friends
And smoke with the pipe dreams
While floating up and down
Along the flow of creative streams.
The idea is to set your mind free
To roam wide and as far as can be
Laughing with characters from the funnies
Or rollicking fun with egg laying bunnies.

There’s lots of space you can freely share
When you are playing in castles in the air.
First you have to get that high on the *****
To launch yourself off with a wish and a hope.
Some lose because they don’t know the ropes
Or not keeping their vision solidly in the scope.

So, look for the wiggle wobbles near you
And keep your eyes open for witches too.
Magicians may also come from time to time
Because making magic is never a crime.
Listen to the stories told by clever mimes;
The enchanting mysteries in their rhymes
That often turn out to be the most sublime.
And let that person know you have the time.

I love to see imaginary friends
And smoke with the pipe dreams
While floating up and down
Along the flow of creative streams.
The idea is to set your mind free
To roam wide and as far as can be
Laughing with characters from the funnies
Or rollicking fun with egg laying bunnies.

I could tell it in your eyes first
It was those eyes that said I did some thing
Something terribly wrong
Something I immediately regretted when it escaped from my lips
I said I wanted this weekend to think
As a break from our hectic week
And your eyes dropped
Because you knew
Not many couples come out of breaks alive
I should know, it happened to me too

But I said it, it came out
And I said how I felt the whole week
That we were flirting with the boundary of
Being in a relationship
That every day, I compared our relationship to being sick
How many times would we dry heave before throwing up?
And you were genuinely surprised
Because in your eyes, we were just getting our feelings out
So we could work through them

And in that moment, I knew
You inspire me
Like you say I inspire you
You inspire me to keep trying
To keep going
Because, like you say, a relationship requires work and sacrifice
"Love is not easy, but when I look into your eyes, it is all worth it"

And in the stupidest of moments
The ones where we are just goofing off
Or the ones where we are screaming at each other
Because I am not afraid to yell
You taught me to express how I feel
I can honestly say that you make me feel Like myself
I am not pretending to be another person around you
I can sing along to the radio in the car
And you will tell me that you love my voice
You cover me when I get cold
Because you legitimately care about me
You ask my opinion on things and love my mind
I can look at you and see why I am with you
Because we suit each other well
You are my best friend

Here I lie, resting in my bed
thinking of you, going through my head.
If I were to say the truth
it's, "You are so beautiful, even when you pass your youth."

But here I am, just goofing around,
guiding a ship, only to run aground.
I want to get far in love and life
But all I cause you, is grief and strife.

I'm not the best at expressing my feelings.
And I know it's just part of my careless dealings.
For I wish I could be a better man.
Yet I feel like I am your biggest fan.

Dripping and dropping like a sink,
I start to tear up knowing what you think.
Winding back, to a better time,
when I was innocent, without a crime.

If you could fall for a better person
I wouldn't let your pain become worsen.
For I would love you no matter what
knowing you two adore each other, as you strut.