Here you sit alone,
You used to froth and foam,
Abuse of women, eh,
Talking to yourself again,
You abused alcohol and drugs,
Now you're a winner with no hugs,
Yes, I guess that makes you a winner
of no privileges, now I'm a grinner,
Who does misogyny make a winner?
Nothing will save your morning teabag,
Fasting is good for you, dear, signed, this *******,
Now you're thirsty again,
You're the winner of a futile old age,
So, alcohol made you the winner,
Good day for a smile, I'm a grinner,
I'll never be your tea lady again, grinner,
So I guess that makes who a winner!

It lurks below my consciousness, the beast beneath the bed
Tortured by imagination, vivid in my head
Strikes without notice, the world is dark and blind
To all the ****** massacres that play behind my eyes

Victimhood held hostage, convinced manipulation
Sickly soul so serpentine, saboteur salvation
Left within the grimaced grin, of tormented left demented
Suffer so, these chains and ropes, you'll never be accepted

Amusement starts to linger, maybe mould, or rot
Decaying internally, for he feels the hope is lost
So smile, smile, smile, and learn to love the sinner
For all that will remain is this twisted, Grim Grinner

Checkered choices rise some nights,
play chess with all my frightful failings.
Queen's Pawn to Rook 5.
          Nail my footsteps
          to the concrete season.
          I'm losing pieces it seems.

I'm a sardonic grinner
     and under these eyebrows, it's nuclear winter.
Wending my way through the last
three years, I find no release valve.
The pressure will build and place
its long arm along my shoulder,
pull me far from my friends.
One.
                                         Two.
One.
                                         Two.
                   Step
                 by step
      by hammer blow step
a story is crafted, installed with a lock
          in a circular book.

Queen's Pawn to Ryman Street
                  1:45 a.m.
simmering skin over ice armored innards,
the freezing rain sends up my curses
                                               like steam
                                  clouding off of my shoulders
and into the skyline.

I've castled my way out of checkmate questions.
Not my move to make,
                     so I won't life a finger.
Queen's Pawn to front doorstep,
          then straight on to bed.

Visions of oppositions, positions and prison. The forward missions, the capitalism, criticism and optimism. The Amor, the adored, the allure and the awards! The doors, the poor, the gore and the sore.
The any and many! The many hoards of pennies, before the lords of plenty. The awkward, the backward, the hospital wards and the

mental. Furthermore, more roar and war with a governmental evil,
medieval in blue! Therefore as I do accrue the clues, the dues, the hues and views. Something’s of me? My belated peeling, feelings related to that of a shrine of the divine. Etched and sketched by a pencil and stencil. Designed by the heavens divine. A displaced or misplaced,

abused, bruised and reused utensil. Something’s of me? I am often depressed, half-dressed and suppressed. Distraught and stressed by
thoughts, thoughts that are fought, sought and taught. As I endeavor, forever dedicated. However, medicated or sedated! A neglected, suspected sinner. A grinner and winner in entice haste, with precise

pace! As I taste the waste of this offending never-ending race. Regardless heartless, relentless congress. Yes, in confessing to you; beware of the care, the dare, the flare, the rare of scare! Attempt to see
what I have seen in contempt! In-between or as a teen. The obscene or serene! The many scenes at the seams. Driven by schemes and themes

it seems! Full of the brave that craves! The deprave and the rave. Those things which sing from the grave... Something’s of me? These are no lies, as a book carefully look into my sorrowful eyes. See why I despise, why I am wise. Look beyond the ancient, powerful skies.
They’re in wonderful constant, radiant disguise. Something’s of me?

My sensitive life of delight in fight, fright and plight. My life of sight, my life of trite. My negative pride! My life’s awesome, positive stride! Inside as I cry, as I hide… I depressingly, devotedly, ignorantly, triumphantly, unfortunately, hopefully and literally say. I am definite that one day I will embark into the dark. Emulate as a creative,

relative spark! Onto Noah’s great and infinite ark. Sailing into the prevailing, unveiling rain... with much too gain, maintain, regain and retain. Believing, weaving and leaving the grieving, the blame, the flame, the fame, the insane and the pain.

I am a half-smirk grinner
an addict and a sinner

I am lonely and broken
a screamer yet soft spoken

I am dead serious
could be delirious

I am not one to eat food
on words I'd rather chew

I am a running joke
the fire and the smoke

I am the forgotten
lost and unwanted


I am the last one picked
I am twisted
And I am sick

Small confession to make
Mama said, when I was born
She saw that I was a little sinner
I raised hell like the devil does
Everybody thought It was a bad thing
I dared not to think about that

(chorus)

Look father, I'm a grinder, a grinder
I grind it all out, all out
When I'm at all time low, low
I can't let things get to me now, oh now
Oh no, you know I'm a sinner, a sinner
Mama said it was true, was true
So this is why I came to you, to you...

I'm a rebel without a cause
If so, let that be the case
Let me show you the ways
It wasn't always like this you know?


Another confession to make
Mama said, when I got older
She saw that I was a smooth grinner
I got that little smirk like Elvis does
Everybody thought it was a good thing
I kept thinking about that

(chorus)

I'm a lover with a cause
If so, let that be the case
Let me show you the ways
It was always like this ya know?

Last confession to make
Mama said, When I was born
She saw that I was a little killer
I did malicious things nobody does
Everybody thought it was a scary thing
I can't stop thinking about that

(chorus)

I'm a killer with a cause
If so, let that be the case
Let me show you the ways
It was never like this ya know?

I'm playing this game called life
Don't know if it's the right time
You can hear my cries at night
I don't deserve eternal life

I know I don't have the right
Because I sin all the time
I shouldn't fear the devil's bite
I guess I have to fight

I got it the easy way
Cause I won't die today
There's so many out there
They're homeless everywhere

I hate this life I'm living
Cause all I'm doing is sinning
I shouldn't be forgiven
And my God's got me risen
And all I do is play God
I'm not where I belong
I should be in the devil's lot
Can't appreciate all I got

After praising, I go back to that old life
And I start to be someone I despise
It's not fair to Him that I can't commit
I know I gotta change, I'm just so sick of it

I gotta change my ways
Unless I wanna die today
Look at all those children, they're scared
They're homeless everywhere

Oh take my life
Oh take my life
Keep me in this fight
Lord keep me in this fight

My blood keeps getting thinner
All I am is a sinner
I'm not gonna be a winner
No I'm not the grinner
I wish I could change my ways
I wish I could change this place
Get out of my old days
Can you hear what I say?

Once I met a shining star
Capable of healing every scar
“lovely” whose meaning of name
Vast friends we soon became

Innocence oozed from her every pore
Together; I wished of nothing more
We roamed and laughed and went for dinner
The dispirited quickly became the grinner

Days, weeks and months passed
and it seemed the star would outlast
But just when my joy was at its prime
The star ran out of time

Having been gifted a wild heart
Unaware; when love took a fresh start
Immersed fully in the hope
that this one; will not elope

I sit now, alone in my room
With the look of a dry stick or a broom
Stuck with memories of the star I knew
Incapable of starting this life, anew

Either it never entered her thought
or was I the one she had never sought?
Although I, too, never originally intended
Yet my feelings for her got blended

Wonder why God gives one a wild heart
to be loved, cherished; or to be torn apart?
To be abandoned or to be wanted more
or just to let the tears dampen the floor?

HUGH HEFNER HAS PASSED AWAY
A PIONEER OF HIS TIME
THE FOUNDER OF THE ******* MAGAZINE
HIS LIFE WAS SUCH A CRIME



ALWAYS IN HIS SMOKING JACKET
HE LIVED IN THE ******* MANSION
WITH **** LADIES BY HIS SIDE


ALWAYS THE GRINNER AND *******
WITH ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO HIDE



IN 1953 THE ******* MAGAZINE WAS BORN
THE FIRST ISSUE HAD MARILYN MONROE
APPEARING IN THE ****


OH MY GOD WHAT A SHOCK
PLEASE DON'T BE SUCH A *****


REST IN PEACE HUGH

I am the one who was thrown out of hell.
The sins that I committed,
Here, my silence gonna tell.

Listen, you dear people,
Nothing in my life was ever simple.

Cursed being a birthmark,
I have been falling over a deep dark.

If it's in my heart or in my mind,
I wish to keep everything everywhere just aligned.

But wait, I am actually a sinner,
Roaming in this materialistic world being a grinner.

Crying so hard deep down inside though it's my dry eyes,
It's enough of stucking below the heavy skies.

For so many years, I heard my own screaming,
But this corpse ended up her identity without revealing.

Sinner,
For heaven, not designed
From hell, left behind
And this earth rejected her for mankind.

Here's a verse, not too long,
All about my favourite song,
It's, of course, "I will survive",
A heart that's kind is always alive,
Who cares who is a winner?
In life, I have survived a grinner!

Vladimir Putin itching
to loose nuclear bomb
end of the world scenario ofttimes
iterated throughout history
though an atheist (actually Unitarian),
no doubt this, that or another psalm
countless times the Bible
references Armageddon and doomsday
impossible mission to remain
cool, collected and calm.

Whether affiliated with donkey or elephant
Democrat or Republican viz
blue war red respectively
political hot issues don't amount
to a (Sam) hill of beans
when Sword of Damocles count
approaches zero hour
as global tensions mount

signaling increased chance
trigger finger will free
avast nuclear winter
(across world wide web) re:
leasing plethora, pyrocumulus
mushroom clouds tree

mend us planetary explosions
annihilating webbed wide
world, an irrevocable
indeed earthlinked debacle
spelling widespread species
multitudinous extinction
ex post de facto after super
bowling powers (wannabe) vied

to wrest empowerment spanning
entire realm sans third rock
from the father, sun and holy ghost,
who turned substantial pock
kits of flora and fauna
once populating oblate spheroid ad hoc

significant swaths of life forms
pulverized and/or turned to ash
transformed into radioactive wasteland
after war mongers brash
lee usurped hegemony
(ruling inhabitants
of Gaia with an iron fist
with a smidgen of flavoring
courtesy of Missus Dash

superfluous taste enhancer,
when sibling burnt offering views
between Venus and Mars incendiary
tolled mourning news
smithereens sole remnant
poisoned every square inch
from weapon of mass destruction

that did cruise
engendering thick noxious fog
disabling fox but not cockroach
while smoldering seas and continents
skull and crossbones didst poach
amidst the gasified, liquified, pureed
where holographic ghoulish super bowl coach

rendering lifelessness home for menagerie
where virtue trounced vice as organisms
(particularly one primate) didst try
(predominant 21st century simians)
tool heave with amity, comity, and empathy
animals and plants an experiment
that went awry

presaging a nuclear winter with nary a winner
implicating mankind as the absolute sinner
instantaneously after Doomsday Clock
signaled point of no return
where grim reaper the sole grinner.

There can only be one.

It whistles on the wind
that circles this hill
full of look a like tag a longs,
from a time before I Was.

There can only be one.

There's the grinner, the sinner,
the fighter, the writer,
the man, the monster,
and then there's me.

There can only be one.

Its a brutal war full of tears,
heads roll on the ground,
and blood mixes with the mud,
to create a marsh that drags my feet down.

There can only be one.

Slogging through the mire,
stumbling over corpses,
lashing out violently,
at that which isn't me.

There can only be one.

To the last man standing,
we fight as thunder rolls,
Over this hill of skulls,
as we **** for that law of the land.

There can only be one.

Grisly horror jawbones Kristallnacht
totalitarian brandishes, flaunts, launches
global threat half cocked.

Vladimir Putin itching
to loose nuclear bomb
end of the world scenario ofttimes
iterated throughout history
though an atheist (actually Unitarian),
no doubt this, that or another psalm
countless times the Bible
references Armageddon and doomsday
impossible mission to remain
cool, collected and calm.

Whether affiliated with donkey or elephant
Democrat or Republican viz
blue war red respectively
political hot issues don't amount
to a (Sam) hill of beans
when Sword of Damocles count
approaches zero hour
as global tensions mount

signaling increased chance
trigger finger will free
avast nuclear winter
(across world wide web) re:
leasing plethora, pyrocumulus
mushroom clouds tree

mend us planetary explosions
annihilating webbed wide
world, an irrevocable
indeed earthlinked debacle
spelling widespread species
multitudinous extinction
ex post de facto after super
bowling powers (wannabe) vied

to wrest empowerment spanning
entire realm sans third rock
from the father, sun and holy ghost,
who turned substantial pockets
of flora and fauna
once populating oblate spheroid ad hoc
significant swaths of life forms
pulverized and/or turned to ash
transformed into radioactive wasteland
giving T.S. Eliot a run for his money
after war mongers brash
lee usurped hegemony
(ruling inhabitants
of Gaia with an iron fist
with a smidgen of flavoring
courtesy of Missus Dash

superfluous taste enhancer,
when sibling burnt offering views
between Venus and Mars incendiary
tolled mourning news
smithereens sole remnant
poisoned every square inch
from weapon of mass destruction

that did cruise
engendering thick noxious fog
disabling fox but not cockroach
while smoldering seas and continents

skull and crossbones didst poach
amidst the gasified, liquified, pureed
where holographic ghoulish super bowl coach

rendering lifelessness home for menagerie
where virtue trounced vice as organisms
(particularly one primate) didst try
(predominant 21st century simians)
tool heave with amity, comity, and empathy
animals and plants an experiment
that went awry

presaging a nuclear winter with nary a winner
implicating mankind as the absolute sinner
instantaneously after Doomsday Clock
signaled point of no return
where grim reaper the sole grinner
feasting on human flesh for dinner.

Am I a poet
or a publisher
of inner demons
a fire groomer
a flood channeler
a flag raiser
for inner collapse
a grinner
for inner suffusement
a reteller of never said
a printer of listening
a this of that
or just a sound
hoping to go round