Sand on the seashore,
Wand and a bezoar,
Rustle of lace,
Legolas’ face,
Dragon’s and ghouls,
Monkeys and fools,
Knights, and Queens and fights

There is an age old story in a place called middle earth
About Hobbits, Orcs and Wizards all fighting for there turf
It all involved a ******* ring too much for what its worth
Sending all men crazy when its wrapped around their girth
With their finger in the ring who knows where they may surf
Wars began when worlds where new the creation of times birth

So what exactly does it mean by lord of the rings
Is it the golden type or does it mean other things?
Being a lord of a ring who knows what that brings?
Is it a Drawf ,an ugly Orc or an Elf that swings?
Or a Hobbit with hairy feet bouncing on bed springs
Maybe its a Wizard or some ***** Queens and Kings
Something with open ***** spread wide like Dragons Wings
Could it be a merriment of drunken Men or a Bard that sings
A mystical sword detecting Orcs while the blue blade 'Stings'
Or caught inside an arachnids lair when her webbing clings

If the one true ring is reaching out can you hear it call
Is this the case for Hobbitses spread up against a wall
I'm not sure if its all powerful or enough to make you crawl
But its certainly a finger trap when your about to fall
Dont get caught up in a song or a bar room brawl
You'll end up exposing your ring laid out in a sprawl
First there was a fellowship so that explains it all
An Elf, a King, a Warrior and a Wizard that was tall
One Dwarf and Four Hobbits oh so ******* small
A band of miss-matched fellows so too much **** and ball

There wasn't any ladies present none in their vicinity
No big boobed buxom vixens so no sweet femininity
Just a load of sweaty men so too much masculinity
One true ring to rule them all and the loss of their senility
Nine guys on a long quest with the need of strong agility
Half way up a mountain heading for their own affinity
Inside a cave "You shall not pass" Gandalfs grey divinity
With staff in hand the Balrog's Bain both falling to infinity
Frodo's lose and upset the fellowships diminishing ability
With the hope of something more for the lose of their virginity

Just take a look at Bilbo Baggins with his transfixed eyes
With his finger in the ring is what he would visualise
His persona will be changing to what you wont recognize
But he wont want to give up the ring or even compromise
Could it be the feeling he has of the rings sweet tantalize
Or leaving this reality behind under his minds hypnotize
If he does not surrender the ring he will be so unwise
Coz Gandalf will get so ******* with Bilbo's demoralize
An obsessed Bilbo Bagginses he's under a different guise
If the ring then turns him gay it will come as no surprise

So if your in the tavern and you spot old Boromir
And he's got a pewter tankard quaffing froth and beer
If he handles the one true ring who knows which way he'll steer
He'll end up in the cocktail bar the ring will turn him queer
Mr Underhill is waiting with the ring will he ever get gear
Waiting for a stranger while the patrons look and leer
Some people in the tavern they may even laugh and cheer
But I doubt they'd be too happy if they where taken at the rear
Frodo's mistake ******* the ring his invisibility may be severe
Black riders are not far behind so there is something to fear

And if you looking for a man who's name is Strider
But you're not really sure who he is a friend or an insider
For all you know he could be a foe or a even a Black Rider
He is just a lying **** his false name is his divider
At the Prancing Pony Inn he may well be your hider
But it will be a team effort and not a soul provided
Be careful of that ******* ring your tail will get much wider
You don't want any hindrance or a ridicule derider
Don't lose your ring deep in the woods within a ***** slider
That's nothing to what lies ahead when you face a giant spider

Just beware of those Ring Wraiths the nine riders of the black
Cos you don't want to use your ring if your going to be slack
Resist the use of the ring or they'll stab you in the back
The eye of Saurons watching you blades of evil in your crack
If evil gets into your heart you'll become one of their pack
At Elrons river their taunting you cos they are right on track
They will beckon you to Mordor but it's courtesy they lack
So warn them off defeat those Wraiths a sea of horses to attack
Time and pain could have been saved and a hell of a lot of flak
If you went with the Wraiths and it was them that you could hack

And you really don't want to come across the army of the dead
There are far too many of them and you'll run out of lead
You should get out while you can just don't loose your head
Make a bargain with the Dunharrow Dead to avoid bloodshed
The protection of those ****** rings protect your own instead
Is it worth all of the blood spilled when you could have fled
Sam should keep his guard up as he may fear to tread
Cos Gollum's out there stalking you as you lay on your bed
He'll **** to gain "My Precious" filling your heart with dread
Attacking you while your asleep and any of your stead

Smoke rises from the Mountain of Doom and the hour is late
Gandalf The Grey rides to Isengard of this he cannot wait
Seeking council with Saruman but he doesn't know his fate
The lord of Mordor he sees all I'm afraid that is his trait
Sauron's great eye's looming my old friend's fallen for the bait
Reason abandoned for madness the insanity of Saruman's hate
We must join with Sauron but then what would that create
The hour is later than you think are their staffs twisted or straight
A fight within Orthanc tower this was Gandalf's one true date
Escaping the clutches of Saruman's trap his former friend and mate

Have you ever wondered how Gandalf turned from grey to white
The quest began but too their dismay the Balrog came to sight
Deep within the cavern walls the desperation of their plight
No way back on a stone bridge during that hopeless fight
The danger of the crumbling rocks falling a great height
Gandalf will not let it pass the whip of the Balrog's blight
Was it that confrontation when Gandalf turned dark into light
Or when he got tossed of that bridge was his grey cloak getting tight
Is it the strain of whiplash pulling him or the fiery Balrogs bite
Gandalf will return on Shadowfax and the Eagles will take flight

Gandalf and a group of men the Great Eagles they had mastered
So why didn't he take the ring himself the selfish ******* *******  
Those Wars could have been prevented instead of death forecasted
But it seems they'd  rather people die populations maimed and blasted
The burden Sam and Frodo faced too long their quest had lasted
It could have been completed sooner if certain spells where casted
They where to suffer seemingly with rings they should have fasted
Instead of which they shared the pain with others that contrasted
Gandalf could have flown that ring without being flabergastered
But he'd rather smoke his ******* pipe and surprisingly get plastered

Battles ensued that needn't have been so was that really fair?
Gimli will have to get his axe out so you better all beware
He'll team up with Legolas and they'll **** without a care
Keeping score of all their kills cos they are a strange old pair
Aragorn would join them and he'd take on his fare share
But Legolas was a nice boy with his lovely long blonde hair
He liked to score with Gimli perhaps he had that certain flair
I'm not sure which way his arrow went I'd ask but I don't dare
Was it fair on Frodo the heavy burden was his own nightmare
Especially when Gollum leads you into a trap inside of Shelobs lair

The anger of Samwise Gamgee at Gollums treachery and betrayal
Fat Hobbitses don't like Smeagol a defence that was quite frail
With Frodo succumbing to the ring it's to late for him to bail
He wished the ring had not come to him afraid that he may fail
So do all that see such times when you could fall off the rail
Isn't that how its always been with the kings you have to hail
It's bad enough taking the ring when your led right off the trail
And maybe facing certain death not knowing if you'll avail
Don't let the ring take control or you'll end up going pail
Bilbo has already been there and back again in a Hobbits Tale

The great horn sounds attacking Orc's and 100's of their creed
A valiant fight but to no avail when protection takes the lead
The wooded Hill of Amon Hen Boromir died of his last deed
On the grassy ***** near Parth Galen the death of lust and greed
If he didn't want the ring so much there may have been no need
For hordes of Orc's to strike him down with arrows of great speed
Aragorn's comfort of a dying man a confession to take heed
He tried to take Frodo's ring so now his heart will bleed
Men will die and get obsessed the one true ring will breed
Rings will come and rings will go so don't you spread their seed

To gain the power of the ring many battles have been fought
If the ring wasn't so desirable then we wouldn't all get caught
Killing was Smeagol's desire his stressed mind in distraught
Deagol's demise to obtain the ring is what Smeagol sought
A birthday demand a savage rage a strangled death resort
Gladen River's legacy Smeagol's friend killed in a fraught
Downward spirals of sheer desire is what the ring has brought
Gollums years of torment but still nothing has been taught
If you don't resist the ring you'll lose your male support
The power of the ring's too great and far to hard to thwart

A sneaky ******* in our midst the slime was almost dripping
The foulness of this slimy guy Theoden chilled heart ripping
Chief adviser to his feeble king the oldness of poison sipping
Exposed as Saruman's agent and spy allegiances kept flipping
A name like Grima Wormtongue you'd expect a double tipping
Unless he used his wormy tongue for a tonguing and a slipping
A henchmen of the slimiest order his tongue is always dripping
Stabbing Saruman in the back his treachery deserves a clipping
Escaping from their Orc captives good old merry and pippin
Treebeards wooden victories he'll give those Orcs a whipping

The towering strength of fourteen feet and a unique repartee
He Ent stumped and he Ent felled and he's not potpourri
Do not be hasty in times of need take notice of our plea
With Meriadoc and Peregrin they where the power of three
Going to war that mighty oak for cutting down the tree
Branching out coz he's hacked off at Saruman's killing spree
He'll ******* stick one on you so those Orcs they better flee
Cos his wood, timber and leaf are his trunks aristocracy
So don't you ******* Treebeard because you will not foresee
His bark is worse than his bite and his log's his legacy

Death is just another path give me a ******* brake
But being a lord of a ring that is a big mistake
Forging of these ****** rings why are they on the make
The one true ring that ruled them all off this I can forsake
How many wars have been lost how many lost their stake
With people killed and deaths occurred within a battles wake
At helmsdeep Gandalf the White returned from grey opaque
Sword aloft taking a stand making those Orc ******* quake
On the back of Shadowfax the rumbling ground will shake
It would not have happened if the rings where ******* fake

Sharp black mountains up winding stairs was Smeagols secret way
He'll Lead Frodo into a trap he'll make those nasty hobbits pay
The heaviness of stagnant air the darkness consumes the day
Unaware of what awaits when SHE comes out to play
Weaving webs of shadows the dankness of black and grey
Deep inside of that dark lair is where Mr Frodo lay
The Phial of Galadriel's silver light keeping darkness at bay
Sam's glimmer of hope the Elvin blade Shelob he tried to slay
Feeling the 'Sting' of Sam's despair he made that spider sway
Dark defeated by the light but Gollums pleasures gone astray

Arriving at the fires of mount doom the volcano's of Mordor
Destroy the ring throw it in the fire but Frodo wanted more
Just let it go and don't hesitate what are you waiting for
As Sam looks on the ring is mine Frodo's last withdraw
******* the ring is hard enough especially if your not sure
Don't be too obsessed like Gollum was by being the rings *****
The following of footsteps Gollum's foul bite of blood and gore
Frodo's severed finger ring lost from a blooded scarlet claw
The joy of regaining 'My Precious' was Gollums goal and law
Falling in the fires of mount doom his death ended Frodo's chore

With Gollums Demise the ring destroyed our stories nearly told
Mount Doom has fell all things must end including rings of gold
Mordor has crumbled the defeat of Sauron and enemy's of old
Great Eagles came Frodo and Sam saved from Mordors fiery fold
Frodo's fellowship reunion at the bedside of the brave and bald
They'll never be the same again but no longer Orced or Trolled
Cheering crowds the Return of the King Arwen's beauty to behold
The Hobbits bow before the king but they really should withhold
My friends you bow to no one kings honour for the hobbits mould
A kneeling of the whole kingdom bestowed the Hobbits over bowled

Thirteen months to the day our returning to bag end
A familiar sight our home the Shire we left to defend
The beginning of the fourth age Sam's marriage to attend
Sam's choice of bride Rosie Cotton his wife to wed intend
Home at the Shire was too hard to fully comprehend
For Frodo's old threads of life the bonds of a true friend
There is no going back some things time cannot mend
Some hurts they go to deep the book that he now penned
The completion of Lord of the Rings a few pages to extend
Giving the manuscript for Sam to continue the written trend

The galleon is waiting and its time to break the chain
Bilbo's journeys are over the last ship to leave the main
The time of men has come and the end of the rings reign
Gandalf's work was over the brave Hobbits teary strain
True endings of the fellowship seas call us home again
Don't be sad and do not weep but Frodo felt the pain
Not all tears are evil Gandalf knew of Frodo's wane
A departure of emotion the tears they could not retain
The saving of the shire but it isn't quite that plain
Frodo's sad farewell the Gray Heavens don't refrain

The fellowships disbanded but as if that wasn't known
Quests for gold are no more the dead are dust and bone
Elvish has left the building the trolls have turned to stone
The one true ring has been lost so its no longer shown
Hobbits are back in their holes so all of them will groan
Hords of Orcs have now ****** off after lowering the tone
Towers have been toppled, Mount Doom's collapsed and blown
Gollum has lost his precious so he'll have good cause to moan
The Dwarfs are not around no more cos their not all fully grown
Ring bearers have been and gone so they'll be on their own
The king has now returned and he's got his ******* Throne
The story has now ended but you know how far we've flown
So thank you J.R.R Tolkien thanks for your story loan
But it isn't exactly Lord of the rings so its not a ****** clone

Swords flash with a mystical brilliance
For enemies, it only means demise
Bright blue eyes that look into the distance
Deep as the sea and bluer than the skies
Skin, like ivory, paler than the moon
Hair, that is almost like woven sunbeams
From light rose colored lips come Elven tunes
Perfect armor over his shoulders gleams
His aim is never off--he hits his mark
Whether it be enemies or my heart
There is no one sweeter--it flees--the dark
If ever we should meet, we would not part
This is Legolas, of the woodland realm
When I see him, my heart, he overwhelms.

Elven prince
Tender of trees
Molder of leaf-covered mansions,
And brother to the green and growing;
Older than Dwarves,
Older than Men,
And Hobbits,
Younger than Ents,
Eternally young,
Fading slowly
To the West....

Truer heart
Never surged,
Inscrutable,
Unfathomable,
Anchored in Old Codes,
Time out of human mind,
Hidden motives
Sometimes revealed,
Sometimes blind....
Worthy of fearful trust.

Friend to true-hearted
Hobbits,
Men,
Dwarves,
Eagles,
White wizards,
Hunter of Nazgul,
Blade-armorer.

Warg Enemy,
Orc Killer,
Spider Foe,
Sauron Hater,
Murdering Mordor....

i could conceive the western concept of the rehab,
but then for 3 weeks i was in poland
i didn't touch the bottle for that period of time...
i don't see how an addict with a bunch
of addicts can be cured by anything other than
stigma... i'm actually happy addicted to
addiction: i entered my reading-mode...
   that said, most people can't digest a Kraszewski
book... **** me, we read Bradbury in snippets
just to tow in an essay for A-level english...
       philip augustus, or the chess player concerning
the Angevin family... great stuff...
   i didn't choose the book, my grandfather did,
he owned half the Kraszewski collection and read
nothing of it, he had to find a ******* "bored"
enough to read one of the books,
   and as i once said: i've seen the movie adaptations
of the Sienkiewicz trilogy...
         the cossack uprising, the swedish deluge...
and i said to myself: i can't and i won't...
thanks you jerzy hoffman, and yes: thank you
peter jackson...
              the infinite supply of elven arrows
and Legolas shooting orcs at point-blank range did
it for me...
                thankfully i can write something
as obscure as this, and know, for certain, that
there's a back-alley of the human populace out there
that might be searching for something like this...
   but that's what i found entertaining,
i actually had the opposite of wanting to compliment
the film adaptation of sienkiewicz, with an actual
sienkiewicz book... mind you: Kraszewski covers
the same period... and it's all the same time frame...
   should i write a proof that i read the **** thing?
maybe... but the main idea is that:
a metropolis cannot provide the right environment
for a book... or completing a book...
books are read in the countryside, in small towns,
in palaces... in hunting lodges...
          and i dare say: reading a book, getting into
full swing of the narrative is best done in daylight hours...
and i'll come back to the daylight hours,
  as a drinker and writer i chose the night...
  you know how long it took me to restore my
biological clock, and regain the nocturnal realm after
spending 3 weeks with a clear schizophrenia
of sleeping in the night and wriggling about during
the day? 2 weeks! i restored the biological pendulum,
but i have to admit: i feel ****...
    but i guess it's a worthy sacrifice...
i'm planning to go back to my country of origin
during late spring to read some more books...
i couldn't have read don quixote, the brothers karamazov,
bertrand russell's history of western philosophy
    yada yada yada... or kierkegaard's either / or,
or finished off kant's critique without my place of birth...
  and isn't it like a badge of honour?
                some will tell you to speak out an eastern
mantra... om... and the shattering of chandelier...
the western mantra is also a type of hypnosis,
you have to find a rhythm with a book...
  the mantra is the narrative of a book, and the silence
that incubates you has shark-teeth should anyone approach...
   but urban living makes this spot harder to find
than a begger or the ******... you can read books
in large cities... before you head home you're
bombarded with the psychology of exploiting your
literacy, in adverts, in orientating signs...
        with them being so authoritarian, it's hard
to find time for a liberal attitude to books...
            esp. what books are, best described by people
who'd probably like to throw them like molotov
cocktails in protest marches: thick as bricks those
gargantuan apostles of the void are...
       and so we are: sitting in times of hyperinflation
of literature... if that isn't the case, let me know by
Tuesday next week, i'll brood the assumption myself
until then...
      that's 2 weeks it took me to return to my writing mode...
to get back to the nocturnal realm
where everything is doubly black & white...
                 the point is: i want to write at a time when
the surrounding world sleeps...
     last time i remember, i didn't get a message in my dreams,
i'd love to see letters in my dreams, fortunately
i can't... i haven't seen these artefacts in dreams,
      but it's hard to blame memory as not strained enough
to do so... the unconscious and memory don't really
interact that well... it's a paradox that they even do
and that dreams have some sort of existence involved in
the architecture of our psyche...
                        last night i dreamt of lego batman because:
d'uh his endearing sarcasm... and godzilla!
   boo ya!         and this large city being eaten up
by a tornado, and other things phantasmogorical....
well pandemonium here, pandemonium there...
    don't get any ideas about the nature of dreams and
oedial repression... please! unaffordable housing prices
these days can only mean i'd really earn a mortgage
if my ***-drive went to the dogs, of the profession.
    so 3 weeks of a sober life and enough time to read
books... and my return into a writing life, a nocturnal
life, and drinking...
   mind you, in between there was that masters final
with ronnie o'sullivan (at least romford is famous for
something) vs. joe perry... in the last frame, when they
had 30 odd points each, and they were plucking at the
last remaining red ball for the snooker?
       snooker is a metaphor for the savannah...
you either watch snooker, or a david attenborough naturalist
show... there's the herd of buffalo (the red *****)...
           and the cue ball the hunting predator...
well... it's all a bit abstract, there are just ***** on a green
table... but still... at least in snooker you can bug
the "pawn" (red) ***** without having to *** them,
in chess you destroy completely... the pawns go...
there's no time to keep them for a no-man's land pause...
and i just turned 30... which goes to show:
                  if the game of football was perfect,
i mean perfect like tennis is with hawk-eye and
    6 judges vertical, 4 judges horizontal...
                  then football wouldn't be so passionate,
so religious... the reason it is so religious is because
judging it is so ****** imperfect...
     there's a reason why football can't be perfected in a way
as rugby can, where the referee can pause the game
and ask for a replay... the unfairness principle!
it has to be unfair in order for people to feel even more
impassioned by it! that's why in that film
when Alec Baldwin says something along the lines:
god comes first (while his hand holds out
the index and *******), and football comes second
(the index finger disappears)...
      football can never be a sport that has perfect
refereering... which makes me surprised as to why
it can grace the Olympic games...
                   football (in english, not that theme park
of jumping torpedoes) - yes the football known as:
ballet with hairy legs...
                   it has to remain unfair and subsequently
quasi-religious because it generates the most money,
but apart from that, it has gained a quasi-religious
status because it reflects a sort of life we acknowledge:
the referee made a bad decision, god did this... blah blah...
  and we get passion, religious passion that's
best represented by football hooligans...
                        but whereas other sports perfect their
techniques of refereeing a game, football hasn't done
the least possible, because it requires the whole debate
of: life's unfair!
    if it wasn't for unfair refeering, the game would not
be alive, as it is alive, to stage a confrontation
with: apache west ham, and sioux millwall...
       it's the best way to ensure tribalism...
         make the refereeing unfair, don't improve it...
blame it on the man in the sky, or the ponce in new zealander...  
mind you....
   the last football match i went to was at Stamford Bridge,
Chelsea lost to Newcastle United...
             i just just there like a stoic twant...
           i couldn't imitate the screams and the chants...
   i was just mesmerised at how it's so different from
watching a football match without the television acting
like a microscope... i am sure i was looking elsewhere
when someone scored a goal...
                 i probably went to the toilet when i
missed another goal...
                        and i'll reiterate...
   it can't be a gentlemanly sport, the rules can't be fair,
that's why they call it the sport of the rabble,
they have to contain the illusion of being unfair...
       because it's a "rabble" sport...
the referee has to make bad decisions,
otherwise there would be a "what if" dimension...
ask any Pole about the 1974 semi-finals with Germany
and ask them about the weather that day...
  then ask about the Polish wingers... and how fast they
were... and how the pitch was so slosh, and ice-puppy
fudge that the slow germans won it...
                     because the Poles always say:
we could have beaten the Nedetherlands in the final...
        again: football, if it is to be stated as the secular
alternative to religion, has to have an inherent unfairness in it...
all the other sports will perfect their judgement,
football will not move an inch... just like a religion -
perhaps that's also because we live in times of
cold-consumerism,
       a quick comparison is:
   the reactions of antonio conte vs.
                       ivan lendl -
   the former looks like a raving lunatic when something
good, or bad happens...
   the second? is he watching tennis, or playing poker?

Haiku

Secrets fill the air
Whispered through the swaying trees
Though they make no sound


Nature Poem

The wind is an unpredictable beast
Clawing, tearing, ripping
And yet, gentle as a baby's breath
Strong, frigid, freezes to the bone
Hot, humid, sweltering, offering no relief
And yet, can be pleasantly warm or refreshingly cool
What it might bring, no one can know
The wind is an unpredictable beast





Metaphor Poem

Euphoria is a green too bright to be real
Filled with intensity that's possible to feel
It is a heated blanket that has too much power
Though it's unplugged, it lasts for an hour!
Euphoria is a color that projects too much light
It is a blanket that does its job too right!

Letter Poem

Dear Bel,
At first sight, many people consider you a monster.
And for what cause? Because you're different?
If that were to always hold true, wouldn't everyone be afraid of each other? It's not to say you're perfectly harmless, that's true.
But that's why we all admire you.
Myself, Legolas, Tauriel, Fili and Kili, even Thorin.
Because you are different, special, and quite able to hold your own even against an army of orcs. Not many people can make that claim.
How is Mirkwood? Rivendell is the same as always,
Though for some odd reason, my father's been in a really good mood.
It's really quite frightening.
I love you and miss you quite terribly.
Please send my best to Legolas, Tauriel and King Thranduil.

                               Ever so sincerely,
                                   Sari

His deep intense gaze
Never wavering either side
Locked upon his target
No, his enemy can't hide

An instantaneous moment
And an arrow's locked into place
His enemy frozen in fear
For no blade can wound his face

The metal pierced its skin
Before his quiver ceased to shake
His pale blue eyes satisfied
As he watched his enemy quake

His tunic sways in triumph
His confidence never wavers
As he returns to his home
To the woman of whom he favors

I used to swear I was born in the Shire
right next to Bilbo Baggins.

Not because of the allure of being a hobbit, their squat bodies and hairy feet.
The shire was refuge from the eye of the witch king.

I would rather be an elf like Legolas with a bow of rowan wood
Arrows fletched with swan feathers, twin gold inlaid swords, and eyes keener than a hawk.

My weapons in this world are a bleeding tongue and rusted teeth
Maggot-filled reasoning, an understanding that middle earth is no more.

The Shire never happened for a ******* child.
The witch king came and raised me proud.

Fantasy is all I have left.
What could I possibly have for you?

Human desires
Cross seldom the mind
Of one who has shifted
The need paradigm
Yet often I find  
Myself craving a taste
Of her strawberry field
Or the diamond embraces
Of nothing is real

To think and to feel
Cascading emotion  
Is still but a drop
In infinity's ocean
Intangible quotient
The product of self
The sum of its parts
Is but dust on the shelf

And there lives an elf
Who communes with the trees
His arrows of wind
Sailing evergreen seas
As he writes eulogies
Detached from the world
For his dying earth mother
As time keeps on turning
Mankind on each other

No...more...bickerin,
your eyes flickering you're nickering
your nit pickin' lost it quick as the Dickens
My tracks a hell of a kickin'
you're just the next feckin victim,
of the flow bound Hurricane of sense and rhythm,
The Sensemilla Sensei Kempei of verbal Kempo's home,
Like Alladin and Saladin mixed with a Party Boobytrap a Paladin of Palindrome...
The Storm rider glider blasts you through the  other side of the Thunderdome
My - Spitfire drips Ire as ******* ***** fire Surprise in your eyes quick blast from the past from a .50 Cal Microphone-
Fiend in me soul under control you failed your roll,
will check failed-I check wills,its a Checkmate mate you-best quill your will and will to build some soul
Its a dill of pickle you're in - you're a nickle worth of Nickleback stickleback sticklebricking best Lego
I let go last, I'm the Legolas of the fast pass in the underpass stick you fast now you're stuck fast I buck fast at your glass of Buckfast
the Truculent, ever vigilant-words are Succulent got you diggin' in
diggin' out a liddle bit of Lidl in a stolen digger,move quicker stop the friggin' in the riggin' little Pigpen Pigeons time to drop the bridge in...

I love children.
Okay let me rephrase that:

I love children that aren't mine.

I have abso-positively-*******-lutey no responsibilities attached to them.
They didn't leave *my body completely wrecked.
They don't look at me and call me "momma"
or any other variation of the name
and I love that
because frankly,
children scare me.

Okay let me rephrase that:
The idea of ruining a child's life scares me.

First off:
I wouldn't think my newborn child is beautiful.
Newborns look like potatoes and I don't particularly find potatoes attractive.

Secondly:
They'd have a name that haunts them in their sleep.
I named my dog Legolas after gorgeous Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings so don't try me.
I will name them Harry ******* Potter without batting an eyelash.

Thirdly:
I will be brutally honest with them.
When they ask me why the sky is blue,
I will say that I don't know.
I didn't pay attention enough in school to know.

When they ask me why some boys kiss boys,
I will say that it's perfectly normal.
Mommy probably kissed some girls and boys at some point in her life.

When they ask me why the little girl in their 2nd grade class comes to school with
bruises on her arms,
with her hair in two pigtails,
a smile on her lips,
but fear, loneliness, and heartbreak in her eyes,
I will say that some people in this world don't deserve Angels.
They don't deserve to be alive at all.

When they ask me why they don't ever see their great aunt Perla,
but hear her name whispered at family events,
I will tell them to ask the little girl in their 2nd grade class.

Fourthly:
They will learn to clean house, top to bottom,
The way my momma taught me.
They will hate it.
Then they will hate that they love it.

Fifthly:
I will argue with them every step of the way until they can learn to hold their own.
But until then,
No, you may not have $60 to go shopping.
Unless you're buying books or music.
Then you can have $100.

Lastly:
I will teach them to love.
My love for them will be overbearing, smothering, and unwavering.
This is how they will love their children.

But when they finally ask me what love is,
I will smile,
bittersweetly,
and say that love is...

Love is drowning in the ocean,
gasping for air that never quite reaches your lungs,
but when it does,
it hurts
because water doesn't belong in your lungs.

You can't help breathing the water in, however.
You just want it.
Want something to fill you, to overwhelm you.

Love is repeating this, over and over until one day,
the breathing
doesn't hurt anymore.

There is no more water in your lungs.
Just air.

There is water still, all around you,
but you are not drowning anymore.

You're swimming.

You, my dear, sweet, beautiful, hypothetical child,
are swimming!

*which is something that I have yet to do.

Start
where my world had ended
ten years have passed
but the sights
sounds
feel hasn’t bended.
I still can picture
like a photograph of the past
the tree that marked
the step that was my last
before the world disappeared
into the land of unknown
at the age of seven
in the woods
all alone

My mind froze
like the ground in October
as I gazed out past my tree
my line
the Pacific to a kid who was trembling all over.
I turned from the place that had been told to me
as being the limit
of where I was allowed to be.
The queen
the leader
the one I call Mom
the one who I’d been trained
to think had known all
requested,
NO
commanded,
that “I shall not pass”
but she was the Balrog
and I was Legolas.
But still,
I was scared
trained to trust in the words
but oh
how my heart ached and how it yearned
to be set free
from these boundaries on Earth.
In the mind of a child
Up
up
was away
so I began to climb
And I'll climb to this day.
From the branches I’d gaze
out across the fields
and the trees and the blades
Weren't  green
they were black
as if cast in a shadow
about to attack.
I screamed, inside
outside I fell,
from the branches
of my mind
no rope
not a repel.
Fast was the descent
for I caught myself
on the truth of the words I had heard from
no one else.
They were mine,
not the queen’s
not the leader’s
not my mom’s
and the fact that they weren’t
made them seem twice as strong.
No field could haunt me,
No field could do harm
so as I envisioned prior
I began my journeyed on.
Past the tree,
past the line,
past the Pacific of my mind
and into the darkness
that was only black through the blinds.
For all I had to do was draw them back
and then i could see,
that past my line,
my Pacific,
there was nothing but more trees.

So now,
seventeen
I journey back to the place
at the edge of my ocean
that is an ocean I now crave.
The point past the tree,
past the line I had drawn
and into the green,
and the light
and the thoughts
that now come to mind
not of fear or
of doubt
but of joy
and of fun
and I can’t live without
the knowledge that the tree
that has meant so much to me
instead of a line
is
an ocean,
My sea.

This pumice really rubs me the wrong way.
Matadors moisturize with oil of ole.  
Heidegger has moves like Jagger.
Any critic - Jaeger; Typhoid Mary - plaguer.

Who's the top chef that goes derpa derp derp?
Wyatt Earp.
I'll drain the swamp like Dagobah's.
A Clovis Person.  Legolas.

The ******'s best on chicken breast.
Pin that on your Pinterest.  To show all the dispossesed.
Witness Godwin's Law at work:
******, you're a ****.

Pick up the phone and call Cthulu.
Get hung up on by Shaka Zulu.
Chalupa mis huevos, says the chihuahua.
Hey Tarzan. Ungawa.

Jesus walked across Titicaca.
Crane thinks the Bridge is over.
Biddy bah bah.

Panic at the Disco
And I'm at the edge
Thank you for my place
Thank you Sister Sledge

St. Patrick comes around
Chicago River green
Alicia Bobby blue
I read Things Not Seen

My grandma in the kitchen
Look there at Herself
Charles potato chips
Legolas the Elf

My mother in Toledo
And my Uncle Jack
Walnut Heights, Ohio
I lay on my back

              ?

This is a mean old world
Try and live in all by yo self
Need some help from Gandalf
And from Legolas the Elf

In my solitude
Movies and my bookshelf
Can't be with the one I really love
She's out ballin' someone else

The Transition to Sameness
Means psychiatrists make a lotta money
I like Billy Crystal
Steve Martin still is still is funny

So is Kate McKinnon
Saw her on SNL
Fear at times of phoning
Fear of Eternal Hell

I like Life of Pi
It is the better story
Wonder where I'll die?
This train Bound for Glory

                 Charlotte!

the hardest evil to resist
is the evil in oneself

if I point the finger at others
a book of my sins still on the shelf

but something must be said
against this Land of Whiteness Wealth

so I take a little stand
and wish for Tolkien's elf


                                            Frodo lives!

I shared the bipolar
And it's possible
They know me
Better than I know myself

If so: caution. care. cunning.
And protection
From Oxford
And from Legolas the Elf.

Just went to the carnival
As everybody should
There are some freaky strange ****** up folk
In my neighborhood

Took two years of Latin
Wasn't very good
Honeymoon in Rome
Fine Norwegian wood

Not an Academic
Markson on my shelf
Not an intellectual
I like Legolas the Elf

Ashes to the ocean
Lightning in the sky
Holy Toledo, Batman!
One for Scott and Ry

           Ay! Ay! Ay!

Can't find what I'm looking for
Anguish of the search
Not in a happy home
Not inside a church

Battle of South Mountain
Battle with my self
Seattle in the winter
Legolas the Elf

Oxford was quite beautiful
Twilight grey on blue
Mario Cuomo's article
Me at Seattle U.

Let centuries pass
Box clicks slowly open
Susan Darlene Meek
Holy holy spoken

                     Red Pine!

Didn't sleep too well
Cemetery Road
Mount St. Michel
Ghost of Old Tom Joad

Tired, weary waiting
Not much to do today
3 hours work
Basketball to play

Exoplanets spin
Extrasolar water
Never read Anais Nin
Don't know what he taught her

Merciful within
Compassion for myself
If Trump or Desantis win
Then Legolas the Elf

                  Guelph

What did you think recipe is
Eminem manifest destiny is
I should quit pathetic
I get it.
Like a ***** flick.
******* before
Actors practicing  exiting
Amityville. Damnd if he will.
Say yes to the dress again
Hand at the wheel
Transgender
Extraterestrial
Disecting pedestrians
Like genesis
Not scripture.
Talking the saga.
Rather the myth the legendary legolas.
The ring is a curse
Dwarfed when its
next to this
Fear of rejection
Of an obsession
sick. As dimensia medicine
For  Vietnam veterans
Dimensional benefits.
Like **** size in a tetris fit.
Its minus 77 red ink
Red face imbellishment
Period like a 7.7 point deficite.
You faking. Your pregnant
You got a point
But the ketchup smears selling it
Think in heinz sight ill
Invest in it

Interest percentage
Lending attention
To your
******
Mentorship
The way you handle
Your staff.
Like a 7.7 point deficite
Is inches in industry.
And your **** just invented it.
X y factor equation
Next gen tech there developing
Exposes. Plot holes.
Oh no science returns
To relish this ****
Like *** with ketchup
Mayo take your ***
Away I dont beef so lettuce
Be friends again

Flirting with ***
And eminems ****** instruments.
You know you sound
Oblivious.
And frivolous. To all the men
You had casual *** and ****
Like you didn't know
They all had *****
When they hit that ****.
Okay thats actually rediculous


***** who you pretending with
Cut with the sob stories.
Difference in indifference
Is pretending you different
Heed Goliath for what he is
And aim at deliverance
No affidavids
Daily diligence
Or brain games
At millennial
intelligence.
Pass as female satire.
Or be fire and flame
As hot as turbo chrmical accelerant
Wreck it Ralph
And Hectors ******
Hetero deceptive
Secretive intelligence
I got a
Masculine past
Relax your a mannequin
Still **** and
My fashion staying relevant
Your ******* it up.
Cha just kidding  bro your cellibut
Switch up with the rhyme scheme
Though
Like a flow from
The west side of heavens bed


Frame persuasive arguments
Like a painting from karmin
Or my dead aunty Margaret
Clothes and
Garments
Marked for bargain basement
Retail prices noone can argue with

Fashion on bark. Talking dog park
Evaluation. **** yeah bag it *****  and walk with it
If you got **** from
My corner store. I got a deal we can spark it quick
Like a moth drawn to a lamp
Or a cigarette **** to the carpet
I'm probably the
Dissatisfied customer.
Returning my product for bargain chip.
Its not defective. Just not selected
By the demographic we marketed
We targeted an audience.
And relentlessly marketed
But the target market.
Wasn't smart enough
To scarf it in.
I guess there not starved.
Like your *******
Heart for him.
******* martyr sin
I just bought my own *******
**** I marketed

For the record
This whole things dumb and ******
Marshall Mathers *****.
And ketchups never good on subs
My fashion isn't relevant.
Mann again.
With plastic mannequins
Chemical  imbalances
Of us

The ring is actually a curse
And tetris never fits.
Its a two dimension  curse.
Goliath was a *****
David put him to the dirt.
And the deficite. Would be less
If you put the period first.
Whats the point. I'm dotting
Eyes. Crossdress tease em with the verse.
*** the beat is never thumping
Less theres living
People in the hurst

There is no divine intervention
God is Silence Itself
Gimli is the dwarf
Legolas the elf
We have too many guns
Too few books upon our shelf
September 11th
October 12th

            Help!

Often I pray more for than to
Worried for my family
Wishing for my friends
Afraid

Politics portends
America could again go deeply wrong
Somebody done somebody wrong song
Tirade

The Hobbit and Poe on my shelf
The fighting knives of Legolas the Elf
Satellite Beach
Not Miami Dade

Grateful for quiet
Conversations
Board games
Magic played

              Nat turner: flayed.

Charlotte is a pretty name
She warbles as she flies
She and Bob in Tokyo
Smoke gets in your eyes

If I died in Paris
You could go to Notre Dame
If I died at sea
You could Ishmael your mom

I want to go to Germany
Have a Bavarian pretzel
I too know anxiety
Just do your best, Ms. Emily Wetzel

Moby **** in my car
Mr. Markson on my shelf
In Seattle Green Arrow
In London Legolas the Elf

Nuclear war is likely
The Apocalypse of Fire
Shakyamuni indeed correct
Suffering is caused by desire

The Zen Center is silent
I bow and bring my tea
Hagia Sophia
Please let the future be

              Correspondingly

Everybody's bipolar now
Psychiatrists makin' big bucks
I eat miso soup
Drink Jarittos at taco trucks

Lucky to have had some good teachers
Middle school myself
Stepping stones, Zeroes at the Bones
Legolas the Elf

It's ok to die; please help me, Ry
Not to be afraid
Ashes greenblue ocean
101 Taipaid

                     Wayed

I'm drawn to myths and legends
Maybe because I fear time
Legolas the Elf
Cranberry juice with rhyme

Please forgive my trespasses
Help me forgive others
Quietness at home
Memories of our mothers

Some trauma in my past
Like so many people
Please keep Mark safe
Silence is my steeple

Help comes from my dad
I miss my brother Scott
Endurance when I'm sad
Rootbeer floats we bought

                    Yum!

Trump draws big crowds
The Abyss calls his name
Legolas the Elf
Gandalf's Secret Flame

O Canada!
We could use your help
Vegetarian burritos
Miso soup with kelp

I have an Olive Buddha
Silently sits and knows
Compassion in our suffering
Kamakura snows

I like yellow curry
Vegetarian Thai fried rice
South Side of Chicago
Oooo dat girl looked nice!

                   Prince4ever

The bipolar brings grandiosity
So step by slowly step
Long term game
Patience.

Basketball is hope for me
Jokic might get a ring
I got the Denver thing
Asians.

Ordinary is boring
I am boring myself
Legolas the Elf
Aging.

Arrival got my attention
Dr. Banks, xie xie thanks
China. China.
Engaging.

            2072

It's gonna have to be posthumous
Emily
Markson
Melville
Vincent's Green Eyes

Frodo
Legolas
Amber
Oxford
Gandalf the Wise

1937
Guernica
The Hobbit
The Cost of Discipleship
Als Ick Kan

             (I still tries)

It's not just because I'm bipolar
She really is a wonder
Legolas the Elf
Can you hear the rolling thunder?

Lost in Translation
Found inside me
She's my infatuation
3033

                     Si.

I hope a Wounded Healer
Needing help myself

David in New York
Markson on my shelf

Me in Oxford's night
Legolas the elf

Dublin early flight
Book of Kells true wealth

          To your health.

In therapy again
I probably need it
******* all the time
Talkin' to myself

Jack Burden
Lina Mayfleet
Jonas
Legolas the Elf

      Please help!

I'm nobody's hero
Can barely take care of myself
Bipolar is my burden
Legolas the Elf

I like sci-fi movies
I like middle school books
Susan Darlene Meek
Thai curry from Thai cooks

I'm truly unimportant
Kamakura snow
Aye! Aye! Aye!
Yoko yo yo yo yo

                 On we go ....

Easy to fight corruption in others
Hard to fight it in oneself
Please help me, Professor Tolkien
With Legolas the Elf

My life so often boring
Exoplanet Sky
The cruelty of women
Cry, cry, cry

Sacramento Mark
Casa Roble High
Will anyone remember
When I do and die?

Rothko blue and green
Markson on my shelf
Fairfax, Virginia
Thank you, July 12th

Just a sliver of a crescent moon
And two green lights
If Aragorn goes down
He only goes down with a fight

Guernica on my mantle
The Brothers Karamazov on my shelf
21 Pilots
Legolas the Elf

She is A Fine Frenzy
I would like to meet her
Trinity Episcopal in Boston
I would like to seat her

Just a sliver of a crescent moon
Two beautiful green lights
Alex reading in Tucson
We preparing for the fight

          Buenos Noches, Anita.
                     Good Night.

Post office in my little town
I take it as a sign
Ms. Dee Ann Reeder
I wait. Yes, I wait.

Legolas
The fighting knives
Oxford. Inklings.
I do not hesitate

He said he's 37
We might play some ball
I drive in Mary's land
Destiny, not fate

Facebook has been fun
Surely She's the one
Three young sons y
Wendy. Susan. Cate.

         not too late