"lable" poems - Hello Poetry

Okay fine. Okay fine, Now you are racist, If you don't want to date someone other than your own race, Just because someone else won't approve? You are homophobic, If you're not nice to gay or lesbian people, Just because you were raised that way? You are sexist, If you don't like the other gender, Because you have learned that your own gender are more supportive, reliable, compassionate, understanding or trustworthy than the other? Okay fine, There may be political problems, But why care, If your own country are too deep in the **** To get out? - and no, helping won't solve it if racism, sexism or homophobia is still such a big deal! Deal with gay or lesbian people, They have excepted the fact that they may be wrong to love their own gender, Why can't you? Deal with people of the other *** You live in a world where you have to talk to both, Talking to a gender you don't like, Does NOT make you any more lovable or understanding, It makes you human, So get over the fact that the other *** may be worse than your own. Racism, Have you seen a white person tear up? Have you seen a black person tear up? Have you seen an asian tear up? Have you seen a brown person tear up? Have you seen a colored person tear up? Have you seen an indian person tear up? To either one of those, you must have said yes, Have you seen any of those, who have cut themselves? Do you know of any one of those, whom might have had smelled, tasted, heard or even die and decompose, In any other way, than your own race? We all have red blood, We all decompose in the same way(taken the different ways of decomposing of a HUMAN), We all have the same struggles; Financial, Love, Peace, Statuses, Popularity, Even more personal like illnesses. How can you believe in the belief you do, If you hate? In a way, all of our beliefs are the same, They are all linked, Because it goes about peace and love! Okay fine, We are not all the same, But we are. We are all different, But we aren't. We all want to achive stuff in our lives. Get over the fact that some people are darker or lighter than you, This is the 21st century, Get over yourself and the need to be better than anybody else or the need that you want to lable someone!

0

Aug 12, 2015

Aug 12, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC

AdriaanH612

Okay fine.

Okay fine. Okay fine, Now you are racist, If you don't want to date someone other than your own race, Just because someone else won't approve? You are homophobic, If you're not nice to gay or lesbian people, Just because you were raised that way? You are sexist, If you don't like the other gender, Because you have learned that your own gender are more supportive, reliable, compassionate, understanding or trustworthy than the other? Okay fine, There may be political problems, But why care, If your own country are too deep in the **** To get out? - and no, helping won't solve it if racism, sexism or homophobia is still such a big deal! Deal with gay or lesbian people, They have excepted the fact that they may be wrong to love their own gender, Why can't you? Deal with people of the other *** You live in a world where you have to talk to both, Talking to a gender you don't like, Does NOT make you any more lovable or understanding, It makes you human, So get over the fact that the other *** may be worse than your own. Racism, Have you seen a white person tear up? Have you seen a black person tear up? Have you seen an asian tear up? Have you seen a brown person tear up? Have you seen a colored person tear up? Have you seen an indian person tear up? To either one of those, you must have said yes, Have you seen any of those, who have cut themselves? Do you know of any one of those, whom might have had smelled, tasted, heard or even die and decompose, In any other way, than your own race? We all have red blood, We all decompose in the same way(taken the different ways of decomposing of a HUMAN), We all have the same struggles; Financial, Love, Peace, Statuses, Popularity, Even more personal like illnesses. How can you believe in the belief you do, If you hate? In a way, all of our beliefs are the same, They are all linked, Because it goes about peace and love! Okay fine, We are not all the same, But we are. We are all different, But we aren't. We all want to achive stuff in our lives. Get over the fact that some people are darker or lighter than you, This is the 21st century, Get over yourself and the need to be better than anybody else or the need that you want to lable someone!

60

Hello there, Let me introduce myself. My name is Punching Bag. It doesn't matter how long you neglect me, Because, when you need a scape goat, I'm just as tough as the day you first met me. Hit me all you like, I'll barely budge. And no matter how hard you throw that punch, I'll only move closer to you. Not once will I ever swing back. You'll find those more well-aquainted with me sometimes call me, Used Tissue. When things get a little too messy, I'm the reliable one who cleans you up. Get sick, I'll take care of you. A broken heart? I'll dry your tears. I'll fix your make-up. Then, when the exitement is over, Just toss me out. I won't mind. As you spend more time with me, I'm sure you'll learn to refer to me as: Closet, or even Mirror. A part of the furniture you're used to having around But even whenyou get bored with the look, You don't throw me out. I'm a place to point ot your insecurities, Then hang them up along side your skeletons, locked inside me. Then, seeing yourself as better than you are, Go on with your day. Go ahead and stick a lable on me reading Story Book, Even though I'm still fairly empty of fairytales inside. I won't even read into your faibles; There's nothing more exciting than a history that never really happened, right? Make up what you think might be fun to tell before passing me to someone else, To read and add on more. But, now that you've gotten to know me better, why don't you call me Staircase? I let people walk on me, walk all over me 'til they reach the top. I'll have to warn you about this though. I'm not made of marble, stone or brick. I'm made of wood that's been warn away by heavy boots So, each step is a little less thick. One of my dusty, rotten boards might give way and you might fall. Please, don't blame me. Even with all my identities, I can't change what I am. As har as I try, I'm still only human.

0

Apr 17, 2012

Apr 17, 2012 at 7:43 PM UTC

freak

Alias

Hello there, Let me introduce myself. My name is Punching Bag. It doesn't matter how long you neglect me, Because, when you need a scape goat, I'm just as tough as the day you first met me. Hit me all you like, I'll barely budge. And no matter how hard you throw that punch, I'll only move closer to you. Not once will I ever swing back. You'll find those more well-aquainted with me sometimes call me, Used Tissue. When things get a little too messy, I'm the reliable one who cleans you up. Get sick, I'll take care of you. A broken heart? I'll dry your tears. I'll fix your make-up. Then, when the exitement is over, Just toss me out. I won't mind. As you spend more time with me, I'm sure you'll learn to refer to me as: Closet, or even Mirror. A part of the furniture you're used to having around But even whenyou get bored with the look, You don't throw me out. I'm a place to point ot your insecurities, Then hang them up along side your skeletons, locked inside me. Then, seeing yourself as better than you are, Go on with your day. Go ahead and stick a lable on me reading Story Book, Even though I'm still fairly empty of fairytales inside. I won't even read into your faibles; There's nothing more exciting than a history that never really happened, right? Make up what you think might be fun to tell before passing me to someone else, To read and add on more. But, now that you've gotten to know me better, why don't you call me Staircase? I let people walk on me, walk all over me 'til they reach the top. I'll have to warn you about this though. I'm not made of marble, stone or brick. I'm made of wood that's been warn away by heavy boots So, each step is a little less thick. One of my dusty, rotten boards might give way and you might fall. Please, don't blame me. Even with all my identities, I can't change what I am. As har as I try, I'm still only human.

44

I married this charcoal Fast as you took my soul Dole out the pills Monday Tuesday Wednesday If-then statements that don't make sense Read the side effects On my lable You see, I'm putting this all out on the table My spirit is a flighty bird You can't trust me, haven't you heard? I don't have an owners manual Oh my dear, this articulation is far too gradual.

0

Aug 9, 2013

Aug 9, 2013 at 6:03 PM UTC

ann-beaver

Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday

I married this charcoal Fast as you took my soul Dole out the pills Monday Tuesday Wednesday If-then statements that don't make sense Read the side effects On my lable You see, I'm putting this all out on the table My spirit is a flighty bird You can't trust me, haven't you heard? I don't have an owners manual Oh my dear, this articulation is far too gradual.

12

Looking away as you begin to speak. . . Your words were slurred. . . Your voice was weak. . . Night after night. . . You pour another round. . . Bottle after bottle. . . I watch as you drown. . . I wish I could tell you how badly this hurts. . . I see you suffer everyday, while your drinking gets worse. . . But, I stay silent, as you stumble and fall. . . Deep down I know this burden is not your fault at all. . . I remember back when we were younger. . . When you were sober, Just a year or two before the alcohol took over. . . Back then you spent so much time with me and my brother. . . But our relationship slipped away as the years carried on. . . And slowly, you shut down. . . Pushing away your own sons. . . You burned many bridges. . . You sealed many doors. . . You didn't have time friends, Or loved ones anymore. . . Almost like a sickness once it began to take hold With no way to stop it. . . We sat and watched alcoholism unfold. . . We would catch you as you begin to lose balance every night. We help you in to bed when you stumble, You hold on to the walls, Wobbling and stumbling the harder you tried. . . Even with us helping you to bed you would still curse us We tried like hell to lift you... And if we ignored you. . . You would try to fight us all instead... Including my friends. . . You would think this process would. . . Eventually get old to someone. . . But for you. . . it never did. . . We still see the same thing everyday, And yes, It's just as sad each time it repeats. . . But we continue this routine. . . Watching you **** yourself slowly. . . Drowning yourself daily, In alcohol, pain and misery. . . day by day. . . night by night. . . “Dear Lord please, show him a sign. . . Clear his mind so he can know and see. . . The hurt , the loss and the sorrow. covered with a wave of lies shadowed on it's lable. . . The problem here is very clear... Actually , at the bottom of that bottle. . . Is all the proof you need. . . ” “I pray that one day you get a chance to see our faces once more. . . To truly see that we are still here. . .And we still care. . . Through those glazed over eye's of yours." “Please dear lord, consider this prayer I ask of you. He isn't lost show him the way to you. . . Show him the love we have for him. . . Please God… Just let him see the truth. . . God, from my heart, you know these words are true. Thank you Dear Lord for listening like before. Thank you, I love you Dear Lord... In your name I pray... Amen.” “Lord, I put all my faith in you.”

0

Mar 24, 2015

Mar 24, 2015 at 9:41 AM UTC

brandon-k-stephenson

Glazed Over Eyes (Extended)

Looking away as you begin to speak. . . Your words were slurred. . . Your voice was weak. . . Night after night. . . You pour another round. . . Bottle after bottle. . . I watch as you drown. . . I wish I could tell you how badly this hurts. . . I see you suffer everyday, while your drinking gets worse. . . But, I stay silent, as you stumble and fall. . . Deep down I know this burden is not your fault at all. . . I remember back when we were younger. . . When you were sober, Just a year or two before the alcohol took over. . . Back then you spent so much time with me and my brother. . . But our relationship slipped away as the years carried on. . . And slowly, you shut down. . . Pushing away your own sons. . . You burned many bridges. . . You sealed many doors. . . You didn't have time friends, Or loved ones anymore. . . Almost like a sickness once it began to take hold With no way to stop it. . . We sat and watched alcoholism unfold. . . We would catch you as you begin to lose balance every night. We help you in to bed when you stumble, You hold on to the walls, Wobbling and stumbling the harder you tried. . . Even with us helping you to bed you would still curse us We tried like hell to lift you... And if we ignored you. . . You would try to fight us all instead... Including my friends. . . You would think this process would. . . Eventually get old to someone. . . But for you. . . it never did. . . We still see the same thing everyday, And yes, It's just as sad each time it repeats. . . But we continue this routine. . . Watching you **** yourself slowly. . . Drowning yourself daily, In alcohol, pain and misery. . . day by day. . . night by night. . . “Dear Lord please, show him a sign. . . Clear his mind so he can know and see. . . The hurt , the loss and the sorrow. covered with a wave of lies shadowed on it's lable. . . The problem here is very clear... Actually , at the bottom of that bottle. . . Is all the proof you need. . . ” “I pray that one day you get a chance to see our faces once more. . . To truly see that we are still here. . .And we still care. . . Through those glazed over eye's of yours." “Please dear lord, consider this prayer I ask of you. He isn't lost show him the way to you. . . Show him the love we have for him. . . Please God… Just let him see the truth. . . God, from my heart, you know these words are true. Thank you Dear Lord for listening like before. Thank you, I love you Dear Lord... In your name I pray... Amen.” “Lord, I put all my faith in you.”

69

The summers love was a harsh winters heartbreak as the rain came crashing down as I watched thoose tail light's fade. No words reflect the pain that as men were told to ignore. The lable faded as the feelings inside. It was gone without reason. Making as much sense as it's start. A funeral for one spiders create the webs casting shadows apon the sun. The void filled with pain addictions touch where you never did. Empty as two in heart. A losser in grace shakes in the open. Only to display my weakness in utter isolation. Outside the storm builds pushing others away. Jokes fill conversation. Laughs keep away the worried looks. Wasted I feel the warmth of happiness thats so far from all im not. Lines leading down a road apon a mirror I close my eyes only to imagine how it does reflect. Her body warm. her eyes as vacant as the room in which i exist. Taking comfort in a action losing all with sweet release. Fire cant exist in icy water's of a fractured soul. The moment was a series of traggic events that forges a mind twisted like steel Death was a wish when you can no longer taste life. The addicts logic can never overpower the junkies mind. Roads that seem distant are only seconds away. That person a stranger whos return. Is a threat and Id welcome his destructive return. In the fog you feel nothing. As the lost never seem to understand. I know the secrets to the citys slum. A blood spattred canvas of eternal blue. Dim lit nightmares a yerning for a end to a favorite memory that never was you. I see the world so traggic tainted underneath dark glasses so very clear. A drifted soul is but a leaf apon the ocean. Driven by winds heading somewhere with no direction. Just one of the many nights outcast. Many truths no the power of a lie. Sunrise comes to fast and the bottle wont be a lasting friend. In thoose moments alone we see how togather we truley never are. Hold your secrets close as lovers. tangled and so perfectly ******* up as yourself. And wake in the bliss of are addictions Love the flaws and forget the dreams from which we soon wake.

0

Jul 29, 2010

Jul 29, 2010 at 5:07 PM UTC

john-patrick-robbins-aka-gonzo

Just A Dream From Which I Did Wake

The summers love was a harsh winters heartbreak as the rain came crashing down as I watched thoose tail light's fade. No words reflect the pain that as men were told to ignore. The lable faded as the feelings inside. It was gone without reason. Making as much sense as it's start. A funeral for one spiders create the webs casting shadows apon the sun. The void filled with pain addictions touch where you never did. Empty as two in heart. A losser in grace shakes in the open. Only to display my weakness in utter isolation. Outside the storm builds pushing others away. Jokes fill conversation. Laughs keep away the worried looks. Wasted I feel the warmth of happiness thats so far from all im not. Lines leading down a road apon a mirror I close my eyes only to imagine how it does reflect. Her body warm. her eyes as vacant as the room in which i exist. Taking comfort in a action losing all with sweet release. Fire cant exist in icy water's of a fractured soul. The moment was a series of traggic events that forges a mind twisted like steel Death was a wish when you can no longer taste life. The addicts logic can never overpower the junkies mind. Roads that seem distant are only seconds away. That person a stranger whos return. Is a threat and Id welcome his destructive return. In the fog you feel nothing. As the lost never seem to understand. I know the secrets to the citys slum. A blood spattred canvas of eternal blue. Dim lit nightmares a yerning for a end to a favorite memory that never was you. I see the world so traggic tainted underneath dark glasses so very clear. A drifted soul is but a leaf apon the ocean. Driven by winds heading somewhere with no direction. Just one of the many nights outcast. Many truths no the power of a lie. Sunrise comes to fast and the bottle wont be a lasting friend. In thoose moments alone we see how togather we truley never are. Hold your secrets close as lovers. tangled and so perfectly ******* up as yourself. And wake in the bliss of are addictions Love the flaws and forget the dreams from which we soon wake.

51

An anxiety attack holds the body pressed against a table, unable to even struggle as the ropes pull and fold the layers of your mind like a peeling lable Cloth begins to cover the exposed skin, over a layer of sweat that starts soaking in, panicked and encased in claustrophobia with weaning breaths that sound out a hallowed hymn Skin pulled tight along the muscles, layers ripping across the joints like papyrus separating blood vessels, body pressed so tight that straight knees crack with the buckles Unable to evade the stout flame hooking into the small of your back flaring up to the ceiling charring the body black, its a panic attack that has you trapped Mummified and cremated without a hope of escape while motivation lays in ashes around the structure left behind in the agony of a triggered perception All without the grace of an execution outside of this institution, locked away from happy thoughts and depression, the trauma stops only when it waits to feed on the negative pollution.

0

Apr 13, 2016

Apr 13, 2016 at 8:06 PM UTC

anthonyasylum

Anxiety

An anxiety attack holds the body pressed against a table, unable to even struggle as the ropes pull and fold the layers of your mind like a peeling lable Cloth begins to cover the exposed skin, over a layer of sweat that starts soaking in, panicked and encased in claustrophobia with weaning breaths that sound out a hallowed hymn Skin pulled tight along the muscles, layers ripping across the joints like papyrus separating blood vessels, body pressed so tight that straight knees crack with the buckles Unable to evade the stout flame hooking into the small of your back flaring up to the ceiling charring the body black, its a panic attack that has you trapped Mummified and cremated without a hope of escape while motivation lays in ashes around the structure left behind in the agony of a triggered perception All without the grace of an execution outside of this institution, locked away from happy thoughts and depression, the trauma stops only when it waits to feed on the negative pollution.

6

When the Spirit's around - that's the third of the Three - He regularly raises fresh questions for me: The sought and the seeker the truth and the teacher the help and the helper the gift and the giver? The breath and the voice the chooser, the choice the anointer, the oil the peace and turmoil? The joy and the cries always there to baptise the bearer of fruit with fresh gifts to boot? As wild as the wind He'll breeze where He will I've tried to contain Him but He won't remain still. I won't ever define Him or assign Him a lable just accept He's my God and that my God is able to be true to His Word while resisting defining He'll still leave me questions but that's not surprising. He kicked off creation was around from the start and I'm just the latest to play my small part.

0

Jul 5, 2019

Jul 5, 2019 at 1:28 AM UTC

stevejeff

When the Spirit's around

When the Spirit's around - that's the third of the Three - He regularly raises fresh questions for me: The sought and the seeker the truth and the teacher the help and the helper the gift and the giver? The breath and the voice the chooser, the choice the anointer, the oil the peace and turmoil? The joy and the cries always there to baptise the bearer of fruit with fresh gifts to boot? As wild as the wind He'll breeze where He will I've tried to contain Him but He won't remain still. I won't ever define Him or assign Him a lable just accept He's my God and that my God is able to be true to His Word while resisting defining He'll still leave me questions but that's not surprising. He kicked off creation was around from the start and I'm just the latest to play my small part.

32

there is a word on my forehead as though God took a big rubber stamp and a bright red ink pad took me by the back of the head to steady me and pressed it right on making sure every letter was permanent then He let me go. i wandered around lost for awhile at first only vaguely aware something was there i knew very well the looks i received meant i had a lable i could not see but the more i squinted at myself in the mirror the deeper the lines bled together i knew i was smudged but was still illiterate. i woke up to it one day the world suddenly all too clear. and when i looked in the mirror then reading the word meant now i could define it no longer allowing the opposite turning stigma and shame into something i can work with.

0

Apr 6, 2011

Apr 6, 2011 at 10:57 PM UTC

hannah-johnson

the rubber stamp

there is a word on my forehead as though God took a big rubber stamp and a bright red ink pad took me by the back of the head to steady me and pressed it right on making sure every letter was permanent then He let me go. i wandered around lost for awhile at first only vaguely aware something was there i knew very well the looks i received meant i had a lable i could not see but the more i squinted at myself in the mirror the deeper the lines bled together i knew i was smudged but was still illiterate. i woke up to it one day the world suddenly all too clear. and when i looked in the mirror then reading the word meant now i could define it no longer allowing the opposite turning stigma and shame into something i can work with.

25

_Sorry I Can't repair you, I'm broken too Sorry All i ever wanted To be the one to speak her name as mine Sorry For hurting you over and over again It hurts me too Sorry I keep saying it's good for you but i doubt my honest feelings Sorry That you don't understand me when i say I love you Sorry For not comming with a warning lable "dangerous, do not speak with" Sorry For not telling you And never going to Sorry You could've guessed I'ts to late now Sorry I'm kinda stuck But you can't help me out Sorry Do I want to stay or not Well I don't really know Sorry For lying to you and never stopping It's a big cycle Sorry I really am but remember_ It's just a game

0

Jan 8, 2019

Jan 8, 2019 at 3:22 AM UTC

gothmetalnerd

I Kinda Sortta Want To Apologise

_Sorry I Can't repair you, I'm broken too Sorry All i ever wanted To be the one to speak her name as mine Sorry For hurting you over and over again It hurts me too Sorry I keep saying it's good for you but i doubt my honest feelings Sorry That you don't understand me when i say I love you Sorry For not comming with a warning lable "dangerous, do not speak with" Sorry For not telling you And never going to Sorry You could've guessed I'ts to late now Sorry I'm kinda stuck But you can't help me out Sorry Do I want to stay or not Well I don't really know Sorry For lying to you and never stopping It's a big cycle Sorry I really am but remember_ It's just a game

37

I'm in love With a girl With bright green eyes She is bare faced and beautiful Messy haired Dressed up as who knows what Flushed cheeks laughing at someone's dumb joke And I am reeling I am in love With the one With big hazle eyes In a beanie In a bit of eye liner and beautiful They are looking off to the side For a friend maybe And I am looking for them In the background of photographs I never asked them to join even though they were right there I am in love With a broken spirit And it's too late to invite them into the picture I am in love With their slightly shifting eye colour that was "legally hazle" I am in love With never knowing exactly who they where and why'd they need a lable anyway I am in love And they and are far to gone for that to matter

0

Sep 11, 2016

Sep 11, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC

xenaphobic

I'm In Love

I'm in love With a girl With bright green eyes She is bare faced and beautiful Messy haired Dressed up as who knows what Flushed cheeks laughing at someone's dumb joke And I am reeling I am in love With the one With big hazle eyes In a beanie In a bit of eye liner and beautiful They are looking off to the side For a friend maybe And I am looking for them In the background of photographs I never asked them to join even though they were right there I am in love With a broken spirit And it's too late to invite them into the picture I am in love With their slightly shifting eye colour that was "legally hazle" I am in love With never knowing exactly who they where and why'd they need a lable anyway I am in love And they and are far to gone for that to matter

26

i want to see faces with no traces of the places they're from you're from here i'm from there this isn't fair its dumb my castle is tall your portion is small get against the wall you *** we shouldn't use pigment to lable indignant our souls get malignant and numb if we could build paradise it would have to be nice don't even think twice just come violence will stall prejudice will fall there will be justice for all not some

0

Jun 4, 2016

Jun 4, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC

chump

some

i want to see faces with no traces of the places they're from you're from here i'm from there this isn't fair its dumb my castle is tall your portion is small get against the wall you *** we shouldn't use pigment to lable indignant our souls get malignant and numb if we could build paradise it would have to be nice don't even think twice just come violence will stall prejudice will fall there will be justice for all not some

24

Just in case What if Eve, as an easy lable for YMRCA, were the first wombed man with wit to make her will known, vocally? What if she could sing, and smile, wink and blink and look away, coy, from the crib. She steals, so'ld say the tales, her daddy's heart, but not so fast this is, say 120 KYA, as current model mortals mark time since most recent common mom... walked balanced, upright... I bet she could dance and sing... but some reason or another, now no offspring of any mom alive when YMRCA walked, walks now. Not upright, ya sher... maybe eve was the only wombed man. What if, any of that, but this is a strue as we may know... all construed facts point to life being struely not as simple as a boom... though there are ways to end it, as we say we well know, we've seen the cancers... mental deranging during mind wandering, we have heard the stories, Hydes who remained, but only Post-mortal Marvel has myths where Hyde is the happy side. Silly, I would love to have friends. But no stupid people, none un willing to use a word of the day to escape a bout of ignorant rage -- Brubeck, Sonny... yeah like the Sundance Kid's prison flick, -- but Sonny was a first gen Jesus Freak, with one of those, at will, eididic memory's. He also owned the first digital watch I ever saw. I thought he was rich. In a rage, Sonny once screamed in my hearing, GOD WHY MUST THERE BE OTHER PEOPLE? as orderly types were taking him, strapped to gurney, to Camarillo State Hospital, a truly beautiful place for solitary rememberence of everything you ever said or did. Like, the window of your soul become the big screen, with no body projected there... all around me everyone is not there... then I see, I guess, this is a way that prayer was remembered as Sonny slowly rose to re ify a present with other people in it, but masked.

0

May 2, 2020

May 2, 2020 at 9:41 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Something seems too phunny

Just in case What if Eve, as an easy lable for YMRCA, were the first wombed man with wit to make her will known, vocally? What if she could sing, and smile, wink and blink and look away, coy, from the crib. She steals, so'ld say the tales, her daddy's heart, but not so fast this is, say 120 KYA, as current model mortals mark time since most recent common mom... walked balanced, upright... I bet she could dance and sing... but some reason or another, now no offspring of any mom alive when YMRCA walked, walks now. Not upright, ya sher... maybe eve was the only wombed man. What if, any of that, but this is a strue as we may know... all construed facts point to life being struely not as simple as a boom... though there are ways to end it, as we say we well know, we've seen the cancers... mental deranging during mind wandering, we have heard the stories, Hydes who remained, but only Post-mortal Marvel has myths where Hyde is the happy side. Silly, I would love to have friends. But no stupid people, none un willing to use a word of the day to escape a bout of ignorant rage -- Brubeck, Sonny... yeah like the Sundance Kid's prison flick, -- but Sonny was a first gen Jesus Freak, with one of those, at will, eididic memory's. He also owned the first digital watch I ever saw. I thought he was rich. In a rage, Sonny once screamed in my hearing, GOD WHY MUST THERE BE OTHER PEOPLE? as orderly types were taking him, strapped to gurney, to Camarillo State Hospital, a truly beautiful place for solitary rememberence of everything you ever said or did. Like, the window of your soul become the big screen, with no body projected there... all around me everyone is not there... then I see, I guess, this is a way that prayer was remembered as Sonny slowly rose to re ify a present with other people in it, but masked.

42