"hatters" poems
Every couple 'a years or so
Our family reunites
It takes a couple 'a years or so
To recover from the fights
A family like our'n
Doesn't party like most do
Ours gets a little out of hand
That's why we have so few
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
There's daisy dukes and forty Lukes
They're racing trucks and burning rubber
There's jugs of moonshine everywhere
And at least a hundred bubbas
There's a smoker fired for the food
the size of two large trucks
It hold 4 cows, and fourteen pigs
And at least a hundred ducks
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
There's pickled this and pickled that
And things you just can't swallow
That used to live down in the swamp
Way back there in the hollow
There's at least ten shotgun weddings there
And the groom might be rail roaded
But, the wedding isn't legal
If the shotgun isn't loaded
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
There's greased up pigs and muddy runts
And at least ten bobby sues
and when they all get greased up
You can't tell which is who
There's horseshoe pits for tossing shoes
And games of every sort
Most of them aren't legal
And would get you into court
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
But, it's the way we like it
Drinking shine and acting out
Tossing things that aren't tied down
And wrassling about
There's music there of just one kind
It's country and that matters
Any other sort of sound
Sets the crowd off like mad hatters
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
There's always someone who's so drunk
And it's normally the preacher
Last year we married him off
To the back up first grade teacher
There's Chevy trucks of every kind
And one covered in sod
Mary Lou showed her tattoo
"Jeff Foxworthy is my God"
It's the best time of the year for us
And it's sad when it must end
but, you gotta haul your *** away
When the cops come round that bend
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
I AM BEAUTIFUL
I am beautiful;
but my heart is locked
from the pains of yesterdays
in knowledge, I do have
the good and the bad
I get happy and sad
I get overwhelmed with emotions
of feelings that cut so deep within me,
oh, how my heart
bleeds out in ink
for all to read about me
what it is that I feel
and what isn't seen
on the eyes of hate,
from my own hatters
I stand up for who I am
no matter the pain
that comes my way,
I am Beautiful within my soul
I am elegant yet brave
but at times I am afraid
I am a woman of knowledge
I know I have so much more to learn
as this life keeps on turning,
I will keep doing what it is I love
even when I am aging with time
I will keep on writhing
and fighting for me
while the old pen bleeds the ink of me.
Poetic Judy Emery © 1990
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 10:13 AM UTC
so
here we Are:
Arnold......Shortman,
Shorty......Meeks,
Mr......Meeseeks,
Ezekiel......Whitmore.
Morphine,,,,,,Morpheus,
Neo......Geo,
OG......Sour,
Sour......Diesel.
DeeDee's......Brother,
Cousin......Vinny,
Vinny's......Lover,
Brothers......Grimm.
Grim......adVentures,
Billy......Madison,
Hansel,,,,,,Gretel,
Chelsea......Grin.
Grimace,,,,,,Misery,
Mister......eBonic,
Bonny,,,,,,Clyde,
Kyle,,,,,,Kenny.
Kenny......Powers,
Powder Puff Girls,
"Girls Girls Girls",
Girls Gone Wild.
Wilee......Coyote,
Coyote......Ugly,
Ugly......Betty,
Betty......Crocker.
Doctor......Parnassus,
Doctor......Krieger,
Doctor......Horrible,
Doctor......Evil.
Evil......Knievel,
Felix......the Cat,
Captain Jack Sparrow:
"Captain......my Captain".
Tinman,,,,,,Scarecrow,
"Rowrow Rowyer Boat",
Bo......Burnham,
Earnest,,,,,,Vern.
Verdict,,,,,,Votive,
deVotion,,,,,,Vengeance,
aVenging......Evey,
V,,,,,,Vendetta.
Denace......the Menace,
Crystal......Globes,
Snow,,,,,,Aesthetics:
Skeletal......Shedding.
Head,,,,,,Tail,
Sally,,,,,,Jack,
Jack......Rabbits,
Magic......Hatters.
Shattered......Glass,
Glasgow......Smile,
Guile,,,,,,Vega,
Akuma,,,,,,Ryu.
You,,,,,,Me,
Beneath......the Bleacher:
Jeepers,,,,,,Creepers,
Reapers......of Seeds.
Seeds......of Chucky,
Chuckie......Finster,
Principal......Muriel,
Yuri......Gagarin.
© Copyrighted Jesse James Adams
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
captain kirk ate kittens. the azaleas
marched in the dark
and no moon wept snow.
it was that
dark.
all quiet rot, healing now...
we clay inside but dis-urn
we have no kiln. no kin.
we move
like a dreaming fetus
in the womb of all prisms.
like lightning on
a pin.
we have ever been
the king's
vassal.
star chattel in the manger .
happy mad
hatters.
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 9:50 AM UTC
That night your great guns, unawares,
Shook all our coffins as we lay,
And broke the chancel window-squares,
We thought it was the Judgement-day
And sat upright. While drearisome
Arose the howl of wakened hounds:
The mouse let fall the altar-crumb,
The worm drew back into the mounds,
The glebe cow drooled. Till God cried, “No;
It’s gunnery practice out at sea
Just as before you went below;
The world is as it used to be:
“All nations striving strong to make
Red war yet redder. Mad as hatters
They do no more for Christés sake
Than you who are helpless in such matters.
“That this is not the judgment-hour
For some of them’s a blessed thing,
For if it were they’d have to scour
Hell’s floor for so much threatening. . . .
“Ha, ha. It will be warmer when
I blow the trumpet (if indeed
I ever do; for you are men,
And rest eternal sorely need).”
So down we lay again. “I wonder,
Will the world ever saner be,”
Said one, “than when He sent us under
In our indifferent century!”
And many a skeleton shook his head.
“Instead of preaching forty year,”
My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,
“I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer.”
Again the guns disturbed the hour,
Roaring their readiness to avenge,
As far inland as Stourton Tower,
And Camelot, and starlit Stonehenge.
2.5k
tight are the waxers
with gelatin scrub
their alcove smiles paired
on a check-board slate
dive jackets
and coveralls
mark the blue persuaders
stuffed lockers
and lattice straps
for a cold
pilgrim's stare
cork boots
and poly rot
rest in the C block
rank and file
mask a heavily
worn charade
windows wide
and curtains
thread bare
greasers
and **** rats
pardoned
on principle
chain link and
tether held
firm in the grasp
bead bites and
castle tops
slip in the **** steam
chants and speakers
blast from the back wall
elements stacked wide
for tainted leaners
strummers and pickers
held high on the jimmy jack
a chilled base breeze
at the ****** hole
rogues and hatters
stir at the mixer
an imitation face
closing in on the feast
maiden hands clasp
hard at the inseam
scuffed heals shuffle
on the peripheral scene
a cloaked man scurries
(chilled in his double sock)
moonshine
and mickeys
turned up in the jar
light streams blind
the paranoid eyes
laggards peeled
from the wretched
framework
veneer shattered
on a point strip groove
an overwhelming trauma
from slaughter
harbor
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 3:16 PM UTC
one undead sed to one too undead: "id **** for a romancer whos a necromancer."
Well, abracadabra with just an ounce of my magic
i produce half a cadavre and then the other half grab it and shake it until it blabbers:
"well im awake but id rather be underground with dead matter."
and though ive never been sadder i had to grab her and stab her a thousand times in such patterns
that all was left were mere tatters, talk about beaten and battered as all the pieces were scattered
(i made em smaller and flatter til they looked good so i blabbered):
"you look amazing"- "im flattered"
she sed but that didnt matter. im just a ****** whos madder than Hell oh well whats it matter
the feelings of a mad hatter madder than other mad hatters collaboratively dont matter
in fact the maddest just happens to have had all his dreams shattered.
evacuate bowels and bladder. souls eaten, demons get fatter, eternal state of dead palar,
dying in Hell, almost had her. god ****
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 3:59 AM UTC
I am getting older
and my body is in tatters
My Doctor's say, "You're fine, You're fit"
I think they're mad as hatters
Each day a new pain rears it's head
My body falls apart
My Doctor's say, "You're fine, You're fit"
As they listen to my heart
My bladder's my new stop watch
Each night I rise to ***
I get up once at half past ten
And then just after three
I'm cold and then I'm sweating
Sometimes both in one breath
It makes me feel I'm crazy
It's a slow, nervewracking death
My knees ache every morning
And my hips pop as I walk
I have to work my jawbones
Just so I can start to talk
I've had surgeries on my body
Just to help me stay alive
I can't see where I am going
I'm can no longer go and drive
But, my Doctors say I'm healthy
They say I'm healthy as a horse
But isn't "Flicka" served in restaurants?
His flesh is now a new main course
I use a cane when I go walking
I have a seat to go upstairs
I wear a wig when I'm in public
I seem to dress myself in layers
I need a pill to wake myself up
I need another so I sleep
But because my bladder's my new stopwatch
I never go to sleep too deep
Today I'm going to get tested
To check the hearing in one ear
Please excuse me for a moment
What was that you said my dear?
Now my Doctor's keep insisting
That there's nothing wrong with me
Like I said, I think I'm crazy
They're the nuts and I'm the tree.
they've got me tricked out special
I've got orthotics and a cane
My bursititis hurts like crazy
And I think it's gonna rain
My oxygen tank is empty
And my voiding bag is not
But I'm still having those flashes
I still feel cold and hot
With the bag I sleep much better
I don't get up twice to ***
But it wasn't fun last birthday
Having a colostomy
But, my Doctor's say Don't Worry
Your'e as fit as fit can be
But I tell them it's distressing
For I'm not yet thirty three
I'm sick of always hurting
Each day more vigor do I lose
But today I am excited
I'm getting velcro for my shoes
I think some exercise might help me
With all my aches and all my pains
It may help me to feel younger
Feel like thirty two again
But my Doctors, Oh my Doctors
Say there's nothing wrong at all
It's just a natural part of aging
It's mother nature come to call
But I know, I 'm getting older
and it's just a part of life
I'm just glad I have a drug plan
To help me with this strife
Now, my O2 tank is full now
And I've got a buzzing in my head
That means my battery is running low
So...Goodnight...I'm off to bed...
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 7:36 PM UTC
I dont support any kind of war.
Dont care how important,
Killing evens no score.
Keep the aura as bright as you can,
Take down the rope
From the ceiling fan.
Do anything different,
And we're all mad hatters.
On the inside is what counts
But on the outside
Is what matters.
I'm not a fighter,
Im usually a lover.
Feeling like a foreign spy
Who's about to lose his cover.
But since im just an evil soul
Cause I believe in a moral goal,
I'll throw my penny in the wishing well
And I hope they serve beer in hell.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 1:43 PM UTC
We nestle into chaos like an old friend’s embrace,
Spitting fire-encrusted words sharp as the smack of my palm on freckled skin,
Under skyline bespeckled night like ebony, hearts like stone,
We became a self-consuming ever-implosive volcano.
***** slithered through our veins igniting synapses into eruption,
Your fingernails dug into my palm, your name hoarse on my throat,
We crave these embittered words, these scorched nights.
Mad as hatters, we beat on, drunkenly gulping down saltwater tears.
In the morning I’ll kiss your temple, love.
We forget our sins.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
I don't care if you are the water or the groove of the stone. I want a place In your arms that feels succinctly like home. I want to be encircled like an old oak tree, with a breeze in the air that smells radiantly of you and me. I don't care if you are the tongue or the groove. I want a place within which all these walls I can remove. There is a river that cascades between us that keeps us far from home, but I don't care if you are the cancer or the broken bone. I don't care if you are the sweetest peach or the rattle of the snakes tail. All I want is for you to arise each time you fail.
I don't care of you bruise easily or become yellow from the inside out. I don't care if you walk away silently or you scream, stamp your feet and shout. I don't care if you are the water and I am the stone. I do not care if for your secrets I have to atone. I want to you to seek the hiding places I hold so tightly, and I want you to seek them daily and nightly. I don't care if you think this is overdressed, or I show too much flesh. I want you to see how I look for you when I calmly undress. I don't care if you are the thunder in my storm. I don't care if you call this safety or if you call me home.
I don't care if you are the salt or the falling tear. I want you to know that me not caring is not what I fear. I want you to know that true love is true acceptance In it's ultimate form. I don't care to know if you're broken or you are torn. These words I asked you, but they are routine and true. I could repeat , dry my face and carry on, but I don't care to do that for you. I don't care if you are weak and strong together. I care about you whatever the whatever. I don't care if you wish to compete and you have won. I want you to know that those secrets were already awake and done.
I don't care how many times you walk away, I care about the how many times you stay.
I don't care, because In the end nothing matters, and in here, we're all mad as hatters.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
Dreams, that's where I have to go
fulfill my fate and reach my destiny, so.
Focus on things that matte,r
isolate myself from all those mad hatters
To see your beautiful face no longer
I distance myself and let reality conquer
consume every bit of me, uphold and devour.
I sit down in alienation and let the music linger.
Scenario's of your absence is rather different from your presence.
I then just realize, that your presence upholds hope's essence.
Hope, hope there's a conversation
between you and me, just us for the whole duration.
I must drift and set myself apart
it's what's best, it's mine to take part.
If you ask me, how I'm doing?
I would say I'm doing just fine, resisting.
I would lie and say you're not on my mind.
But I go out and I breakdown for I'm blind.
Finally I'm forced to face the truth, no matter what I say I'm not over you...
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 6:37 AM UTC
A sunny serenade of Cyan Skies
On a Strangely soothing Sunday afternoon
In the south wing
The White Rabbit tells me about
Beautiful Butterflies batting their wings
To the beat of a bohemian movement
and I blush at the gesture
And
The Mad Hatter tells me about
The Kevorkian crawdads clawing at each other
Under the crystal clear stream
Bent like a Candy Cane
And I cry for the dead.
I hear her, I hear her
But I also hear the
Marsh Hare
And
The Marsh Hare tells me about
The analytical anarchists armed with arms
Marching around the inner atrium screaming
"All hail Anarchy!", "All hail Anti-Society!"
Aiming for the heart
And I amaze myself
I hear her, I hear her
And because of her I hear
The chains and restraints
The Queen of Hearts tells me about
My fantasies of White Rabbits
My dreams of Mad Hatters
My imaginings of Marsh Hares
And how only she is real
The straps are too tight
The clothes too thin
The walls too thick
And she stabs me
With a Red Rose
All in white, The Queen of Hearts Says
Wake Up Alice
And now I can see
My sunny afternoon is shady
And
I am barred from my butterflies.
Jun 27, 2011
Jun 27, 2011 at 12:07 PM UTC
We arrive at the place
Water running off our faces;
Looking like disgraces
Glibly explaining
That it is still raining.
Just a smattering patter.
Not that it matters.
We'll just sit and chatter
Like social Mad Hatters
At a move-down afternoon tea.
We're all hooked on surreality.
The ladies-who-lunch bunch;
Character assassination over brunch.
Some gossip while we munch
Embroidering on a hunch.
Anything to stay in out of the rain.
After all, it's not our personal pain.
It's some other sucker's sorry.
We will forget it by tomorrow.
For today, while we quickly forget
We just sit and watch the streets get wet.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 3:39 AM UTC
If you go chasing white rabbits, you could fall down a rabbit hole,
And enter a world like none other and take a stroll.
Now you’re stuck in a Wonderland of malice,
A place where we are all Mad Hatters, and we just killed Alice.
So walk some more and go explore,
Soon you’ll find that the Queen is just a *****
You can wish to get out of a land like this,
But it brings you a little bliss.
It seems like you’re getting a disturbing little smirk,
Because you realize you have this twisted kind of quirk.
Where the idea of pain,
Has become very plain,
So you decide to turn everything to ash,
Burn it all down before the high wears off and you crash.
Just then, you open your eyes, only to realize that mere minutes have passed,
And it was just your imagination that you harassed.
People start to notice that you’re truly insane,
A situation you can’t change, a situation you can’t explain.
They put you in a padded room to keep control,
But all they’ve done is dropped you down another distorted rabbit hole,
Will you be willing to take another stroll?
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
I often find myself in wonderland
Talking to cheshire cats
And rabbits in waistcoats
I feel normal here,
For nothing is normal here.
The land is peculiar
And the earth feels unstable
I wish to leave this obscure place
I wish to go home.
Then I am brought back to reality
My wishes have been granted
And I have found what I was looking for.
Yet now it seems unwanted
I feel unnormal here
For everything is normal here
I wish for cheshire cats
And rabbits in waistcoats
A place where I can be accepted
And explore.
I wish for adventures
With strange creatures that can only be imagined
A place that seems like a dream
And is full of dreams.
Where a mushroom can cause a change of perspective
Where hatters are mad
And the queen has no heart.
A wonderful land
I often find myself reminiscing
Talking of cheshire cats
And rabbits in waistcoats
Of a place where I seemed normal
For everything was unnormal
I wish for a land that is peculiar
And the earth feels unstable
I wish for wonderland.
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
A clothes hanger
clutches a line
of paper lanterns
lighting my next step
on streets my shoes stick to
from wheat beer
I hear the ‘Pit' coursing through cracks
& inebriating aged clay bricks
‘Pat”
of rain on rooftops
& falsely take it
for Charlie Parker's
'Hot House'
but it’s 2am near Tulane
& they’ve graduated to
tracks from Tremé;
Brass jazz & barflies;
Mad Hatters & Mademoiselles
dancing barefoot
in the French Quarters
under red fluorescent lights
under cloud-covered stars;
She gets them drunk off dance & song;
Guaranteed to make locals
late to last call;
shows them back-country gems,
the beautiful ruins known only
by bayou gals
& city folk
outside, in search of sirens
where the ceiling's missing,
dancing 'till their bodies taste like rain
They 'crash'
&
'splash'
.....breaking through worn wooden floors
& cracks in plaster walls
lead by the ‘Pit’ back to the street,
&
‘Pat’
as other strange drops join the dance,
descending from skies to rooftops;
Finding lower highs
in search of Bourbon Street
lost & looking
& near Tulane at 2am
my blue suede shoes are dying of thirst,
stuck upon each step;
lacking direction
& looking for jazz
waiting to drown
in the 'Pit'
& 'Pat'
& splash
of this daily rain dance;
Lose myself in this listening
as dreamers do
on the streets near Tulane
At 2am;
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 9:29 PM UTC
Here you are
here you are,
yes you are
yes you are
you are here
you are here
and here
you
are.
Aye indeed
in the flesh you do appear,
yes my friend you are indeed,
certainly here.
Don't judge a book
by it's cover,
but what's inside is what matters,
I leave that to philosophers and their stones,
I say they're all just as mad as hatters!
Here you are,
where ever you may be,
there you are,
for everyone to see.
Reading from some screen,
because this won't make the front news,
on the technology we all love,
to make and use.
There you are,
showing off your prowess,
all the while you're thinking,
"Boy, i'm a mess!"
Well,
be it as it may,
not that I'm one to say!
You are a testimony of only you,
and a testimony
that only you can do.
How you sit,
stand,
approach another,
or flee,
no matter how you walk,
talk,
or sound,
you're still apparent to me.
You are a testimony,
of God's Grace,
or perhaps you are,
a testimony of truth and hypocrisy,
of the human race.
How you live,
is none of my concern,
it matters not to me,
what you make,
or what you earn
You are who you are,
oh how true this really is,
from the ol' boy from the hicks,
to the golly gee biz kids.
So today, be a testimony,
for all the people to see,
that when they look to you,
it's you they want to be.
Because you can do good,
or better than that,
with only a start of a smile,
and a tip of the hat.
You are a testimony,
of you got here,
so take off the shades,
enjoy the sun,
it's time to make your life clear.
Be strong, and virtuous,
diligent and mindful,
be passionate, and courageous,
but most of all be faithful!
I wish you well,
in the coming years that does run,
I wish you the best of luck and health,
and some better days under the sun!
So testify yourself,
in all things you do,
because in the words of Dr. Seuss,
"No one can be you-er than you!"
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC
I might as well be a madman
Drive that rusty red truck straight up
Into a brick wall at breakneck speeds
What does society need with another romantic
A hopeless dreamer dreaming of a better world
Just throw out the tonic and fill my life with gin
Hand me the poison I’ve taken worse swill in
There is no way I am going to win
Against the corporate interest and the hate mongers
The powerful money makers that make us monsters
Just give me a good sixty to eighty miles per hour
Then watch me turn into a gooey blood shower
A swollen then exploding rare crimson flower
As my body shatters cause it never seems to matters
The politicians and the mad hatters run this show
And I don’t see this life getting any better
Cause I don’t believe society will heals it wounds
We’ll just be open sores for all to see
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 8:32 AM UTC
I didn't feel so conflicted
till I got in the moment
holdin' strong egos,
like chessin' opponents
who could hold out and show they're the strongest
of love
tryin' to hide they ever felt any
but how could they
when everyone's the enemy
why would I trust you, when I'd do to you,
what you might do to me?
So cat n' mouse chase
won't look ya right in the face
lying to myself that I don't miss the ****** embrace
why even care when its just a race
for that feel good first hit
when it aint found
claimin rights to quit
quit ******* what
life?
ya man I'd be the first to tell ya
I've written a verse
on sacrificing myself for the own good
of the ******* earth
but hands on the shoulders
stopping the ******
from the right to shed skin
they're own contraband
n' now its tough
everyone thinks they're the diamond on the ruff
but told true to dwelling in the soul hard n gruff
keepin to the sunrise, lookin to the set
under nights hand guard
everyone's a threat
guns in the temple
consider em mental
for resenting the present social norm
of talking to everything and everyone
just to mold n conform
light n dark is a misconception
cuz there's lots of beautiful **** to be let in
by your own definition thas what matters
can't be bothered by other mad hatters perception
give what you need n always be freed
from the chains set in place by societies greedy ****** need
and
its all to god **** beautiful
to the human hating anti social
to admit they'd slice the life to their own sacrificial right
not abandoning light but the body gifted to the sight of others
that's what brings the sadness
cuz from the dirt, leaves and trees
is this made up ruling tyranny
madness to take flight n life
is just plain beautiful sadness
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 2:14 PM UTC
Asphalt, steaming screams swear words
The offensive smell of pavement post downpour
I think I’d like life better if it rhymed
The chatter and clatter mad hatters me
Sleepless and hopeless with Romans
And their online roads and aqueducts
They slither and snake but there is no more wild in the west
Automated scarecrows with AR-15’s stand guard
O’er amber waves of grain
Eyes open for outlaws and injuns
Cattle ranching of the future
Feeding the world one cubic meter of methane at a time
Dec 5, 2021
Dec 5, 2021 at 4:53 PM UTC
Expectations of others still holding me at gunpoint.
Everyone and their mothers, I know I'll disapoint.
Not everyone can win if this internal battle continues.
But everyone could win if we stop the abuse.
The abuse of others, the society around,
Could become productive if we listened through the sound.
Listened to the people but not the words they say,
Because everyone communicates in their personal way.
If we listened to ourselves and followed what we feel,
Maybe everyone in this world could go home to a meal.
Maybe someday we will love and the fighting will cease,
and maybe someday we will be people of peace.
For now Im alone and considered slightly mad,
For straying from the norm apparently Ive gone bad.
Someday we will all stray from the norm.
We will all become "mad" rather than conform.
When that day comes the norm is gone for good.
People will be free and I will be understood.
With just a free spirit you can help to release,
A whole new world for the people of peace.
Nov 21, 2010
Nov 21, 2010 at 12:49 PM UTC
Kicking and screaming children
With their troubles and complaints
Force words from minds of dreary states
Realizations some won't meet the date
A bitter taste enters the air
Cloudy grey **** tangerine
Brightening to the tune of the loon
A broken down *** with a gun
But faster then we are here we are gone
A fatalistic but hopeful parody
Cracking glass jars in the twilight moon
As my sister brunette watches the toons
Littering through the concrete sidewalks
As the grandma's sagging sit down to talk
These registers are filled with monopoly money
And I just watched a movie of ******* Bunnies
An eccentric with one hundred ways to love a woman
A man that gave the game plan
To a high hearted man glittering sands
Ziggy the man with the amazing hands
For we are on a high and mighty moving picture trip now
Caught in the lit lie of the illusion
Asking the nurse for another freebie transfusion
And a peek from the geek under her sheet
A silly break in the world is the only thing a mad man CAN do
Because sometimes the only sky I see is slightly hued blue
And the men that elude to hatters that are mad
Playing with words in rhyme just make me sad
Brought up as a back door man by my own accord
I caused mischief and terror like every other outlaw
A foreigner in a seemingly "comfortable" land
Nowadays everything seems to have a ****** plan
Where tomorrow is that day and the next will be that
And the guy who you get take out from is wearing the same hat
But the hate you feel deep and preach onto the electronic page
May drearily, hopefully, perhaps distastefully give you a wage
Oh where does the madness stop if it only ends with money!
For these worries are from a sagging face watching bunnies
And eluding to grandeur nearing signs of a menstral manager
And a cosmopolitan back break with the blackening beauty of a snake
Lo,
Here I wait,
For sweet mornings embrace
Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 8:57 PM UTC
We crashed into this world
Punching and Kicking,
A promise and a fortune clenched hard
Between our teeth.
I've been a sinner and a beast before,
A lost meaning in a world full of lies
And policy haters,
A ****** for experience
With a blood lust for love and life.
I've never been one
To try new things
But I've found comfort in those
You've brought to me.
Within all the lies and misfortune,
The world seems brighter through your eyes
And I thank god every day I awaken
That there are people like you alive.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 3:43 AM UTC
The world has stepped into a whole new kind of era,
Plastic islands float through oceans claiming they're neo-terra.
They scream 'get on board or sink like land masses before us'
While the tides rise in all directions drowning beaches.
They know the whole globe will cook in the sun
and when its done,
the plastic will melt
and the surface of the earth will have a rubbery pelt.
Plus the water that washes the land is so toxic the airs getting harder to breathe.
Fish go to death the way of mad hatters,
cackling with bubbles that make the sea appear boiling.
So much toiling.
Then those fish float to shore
where they're bought in a store
And poison becomes a pick-up only service, no delivery
Mankind shows mother nature no chivalry.
Tough times for plants to survive
as we squeeze out their lives,
and besides...
We all do agree that the end has come near,
but we don't say it in fear,
we just concede to what appears.
So the strength we dig deep for is important to share,
Like atlas' shoulder for the people who care,
Because if we go down then it's all in together,
So keep your heart strings to others tightly tethered
And when it ends,
our loved ones will make it feel better.
Terra nouveau.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 10:57 PM UTC