who lit the candles
placed so eloquently
behind purple rock?
that sculpted radiance,
chapel grace
wound in a chosen
defined way
down the spiral
stone stairs

street cars dawdle
alongside
the packer slew
biding merchants
shuffle their wares
as the front man
and pock face
sing their
holy blues

cut jazz echoes
over the accompanying
gabble and drone
incense and haze
pour from
a lower trap door
sack fish, truffles
and splendid crafts shine
inside the stained glass fronts

a wide mouth snapper
with a bloated tongue
greets the
morning tide
(not camera shy
in the least!)
the fish traps
and beaneries
bring life
to the flourishing causeway

hula hoops
and circle ballers
join the
cobaine stage
favoured rogues
and mac jacks
speak easy
of the big daddy

beth’s triple by pass
taking firm hold on
tricky ****
and the nutcracker
maze ways,
taggers and
lost tunnels
of cu chi
strike a
nerving blow

a poised finger man
belts out his tune
(with a sniff sock
and iterating glare)
his nosey neighbors
cut artisan bread
(with a white wine
and jelly spread)
midwives push forward
for an afternoon
toddle and stroll

Nosey people annoy me
Pompous people bore me,
Pretentious people irritate me
Whilst drunk people irrigate me.
Opinionated people grate me,
Cheating people forsake me.
Sly people irk me
Lazy people shirk me.
Judgemental people cast me,
Bigoted people blast me.
Most people avoid me!

This is not my home,
I feel like I have come here
from somewhere else,
from a place beyond
anything we know.

I can feel the eyes of others
staring,
watching me,
watching my moves
as I go about
my own business.

It's kind of creepy,
the prying &
unwarranted stares.
Who are these people
& where do they come from?

This is not my home,
I am not from here
& they know it,
the nosey ones who stare,
who stare
& mind not
their own business.

Poor old Clarence Posey
His neighbors are so nosey.
They peek in through
His windows and
They catch him wearing hosie.

They don’t come in
They just stay out
They stay judgmental;
They scoff and pout.
They have no pleasant
Words to say.
They run through all
Synonyms of gay.

Pity Clarence Posey
His neighbors are too nosey.
No matter which
Fabric he likes to wear
They dislike what he chosie.

It isn’t like
They dress themselves
Some way that could
Be seen as flattering.
They’ve guts and butts
Like barnyard stock.
To see them naked
Would be a shock.

Poor old Clarence Posey
His neighbors are all nosey.
They’re nothing but
Awful aunties
That catch him wearing *******.

slowly slowly
oh so slowly
i like the way that you approached me

nosey nosey
they're all so nosey
you would like to know
yeah if only

good time
bad time
happy i had mine
nothing hurts more than anything thats the last time  

good time
bad time
laugh time
sad time
nothing hurts more
but im happy i've had mine

PLANET NAIROBI (When the sun goes down)
Nur…
They were on the verge of losing this battle… it was only a matter of time, and he knew that. Through the window, he saw them advance, with a fierce swiftness that would have put anyone opposed to them at unease. Trembling uncontrollably, he reached for his weapon and held it firmly, ready to martyr himself for his family’s honour and legacy if need be. For they were not, and never would be known as a family of cowards, they were royalty... and he would rather go down fighting than cowering, that was the bottom line. But he knew that his sword, as well forged as it was, would be no match for Rath and his five hundred man strong battalion. So, biting his lower lip he waited for the pounding footsteps to reach the top of the stairs where he stood, the one solitary guardian to the throne. Martyrdom was his destiny.
“Let he that stands between Rath and the throne fall like the city walls!” Rath’s dominant voice bellowed as it got closer, too close for comfort.
He braced himself.
Suddenly, the doors burst open. And Nur... Prince Nur, finally got to come face to face with the scourge that had terrorised the lands of the sea for so long. A man of whom he had heard about from stories as a child growing up. A man that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember. Nur realised that he had always been afraid of Rath, long before this moment, how was he supposed to fight this man when he was clearly at a disadvantage? For it was common knowledge that to go into battle afraid, was to go into battle prepared to lose.
Rath was a gigantic figure, and exuded the air of one who was accustomed to crushing his opponents and hadn’t experienced defeat in a while... if not ever. This man stood at almost eight feet tall, with rock hard muscles that seemed to pile on top of more muscle, threatening to tear through his dark skin. His long locks of unkempt hair fell over a face that could only be described as menacing. He had a permanent scowl that was complimented by his black, soulless eyes. And as they stared each other down, Nur couldn’t ignore the presence of sheer evil he saw in those eyes, a shiver of dread ran down his spine. He raised his blade.
“A child?” Rath barked, “A petulant child? Is that what this Kingdom’s defences have come down to? An infant?” He waved a dismissive hand at Nur.
“A prince!” Nur responded defiantly, raising his blade even higher and more confidently. This man may have been the epitome of terror, but Nur would be ****** if he was going to be talked down to in this manner, this was his palace.
“A prince huh? Prince Nur I presume? Your father was a brave man, I respected him. Even if I met his acquaintance only for a couple of minutes, before I slaughtered him. But I do respect a king that fights alongside his men, as opposed to other cowards I’ve had the pleasure of killing that had barricaded themselves in their chambers and let others fight their battles for them. King Thur was a rare breed... but a dead one all the same.” He laughed remorselessly as he said this. “And soon you will get to join your warrior father foolish one.”
Nur lost all sense of fear. Infuriated, his nostrils flared as he swung the blade with all the ferocity he could muster, slicing deep into Rath’s right forearm. Time slowed to syrup as he saw his adversary’s blood stain the sword, but realising that it wasn’t a fatal strike, he turned around swiftly, switching his stance just in time to see Rath’s massive blade come down on his head. Then there was a deathly silence.
The afterlife was nothing like he had pictured. It smelt of... he couldn’t quite place that peculiar smell. It wasn’t pleasant, but neither was it unpleasant, just unfamiliar. Then he turned around and saw her. He deduced that she was probably the source of the smell. He noticed that smoke came out of her nostrils and mouth every few seconds after lifting a sticklike object to her lips. Nur mused at how wrong the high priest in their kingdom had been when he spoke about the place in the sun... the afterlife. It wasn’t anything like he had described.
But wait a minute! He realised that the sun was still above him, in the sky. He could see it. He could feel it on his skin. So WHERE WAS HE? He felt dizzy, unable to comprehend. Only a minute ago he was in the royal palace, facing certain death. And now he was... he didn’t know where he was, or even what he was. Was he dead? Transcended? Was this just his soul? If so, then how come he still had his senses? All these questions raced through his mind at the same time. He turned toward the lady, who seemed unaware of his presence. She was tall and very light skinned compared to him and her hair was tied in ponytail at the back of her head. He couldn’t make sense of her attire though, she seemed to wear a lot of clothing, garment over garment that covered her arms and legs. She was also extremely beautiful and had a slim womanly body most warriors would **** for, he noted, and felt himself flush. He tried to see what she was squinting so intently at and concluded that she was just staring into space as she drew, he realised now, on the tiny stick and blew out more smoke. That was when he noticed how high up they were, this palace stood almost five times as high as theirs. It was overwhelming to say the least.  He got up and walked over to her, deciding to leave his blade behind so as not to come off as a threat.
“Greetings?” He said politely. She jumped as if she had just seen a ghost, dropping the stick she was holding. He had clearly startled her, so he took a step back lifting his hands in the air to signify that he meant her no harm. She breathed rapidly and began to speak just as rapidly in a foreign tongue. Nur couldn’t understand what she was saying, but the hostility in her tone and her demeanour was hard to miss. He took another step back, ready to defend himself from an attack if need be. He had heard tales of an island with warrior women who could match, and beat, even the strongest male adversary in combat. He decided to tread cautiously.


Nasim...
Nasim Naikuni was beyond peeved. Who was this ******?  He had scared her half to death and almost made her fall off the roof, not to mention burn her favourite grey, three thousand shilling trouser suite when she dropped the cigarette. And what annoyed her even more was that he didn’t seem to register how ******* she was. He just stood there with a blank expression on his face, like a schoolboy waiting for his mistake to be explained to him. Nasim couldn’t stand slow people, they got under her skin. She was yelling at the top of her lungs, which was taxing to say the least, seeing as she had been smoking just seconds ago.
“Are you slow?” She shouted, tapping at her temple repeatedly. “What makes you think you can sneak up on me like that you fool? You almost killed me. Do you realise that?” Then she stopped and studied him, out of breath. She noticed that he seemed unable to understand English and so she switched to Swahili, “Nini mbaya na wewe?” What’s wrong with you? Still there was no response.
She gave him a once over. He dressed strangely. His large, golden brown pants that fluttered in the wind seemed to have been made from an expensive material, though it was like no material she’d laid eyes on before. It bordered somewhere between silk and suede. His shirt was also made of a similar material, but leather brown in colour, matching his leather boots that were laced and reached just under the knee. He stood an inch or two shorter than she did, but she guessed that was probably because she was in heels. He had long hair that seemed to fall halfway down his back in one long braid. He looked almost exotic as he tried to communicate, but she couldn’t place the language or his ethnicity, for his skin-tone was chocolate brown but his hair looked almost like an Asian’s, dark and straight. He spoke in a tongue she had never heard before. There was also something really classy about this boy, whom she guessed to be around eighteen years of age or so. It was like looking at a darker, more pampered version of Sinbad the sailor.
Nasim relaxed a little and decided to give the fellow a chance to introduce himself, in whatever way he intended to do so. He seemed to pick up on this and started explaining something to her, making a couple of gestures, and at some point she thought she saw him mimic a fight, and then  point to the sky. Nasim still didn’t know what he was talking about, but felt a semblance of communication begin to take form. He directed her attention to another part of the roof, probably where he had approached her from. And she saw the blade! With catlike agility she swung her purse at him, the blow caught him square on the jaw with a thud! The bottle of perfume she religiously carried around in it serving a different purpose on this day. He hadn’t seen it coming and so had no chance of stopping it. He staggered backwards as she made a run for it toward the staircase but felt a hand grab her ankle causing her to tumble onto the hot cement floor. At that moment her heart sank, for she knew that she was done for.


Nur...
Nur was perplexed, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve the assault. The lady had seemed to be calming down, but all of a sudden she had lunged at him with a weapon he had first assumed to be a bag. Though, she didn’t strike with the strength that a warrior would have, and also had made an attempt to flee. This told him two things. One, she wasn’t accustomed to combat... and two, she had attacked more out of fear than strife. Which meant that she posed no immediate threat to him. Also, she was the only person he had met so far and his only hope of figuring out where he was. He couldn’t afford to lose her, not just yet, so he decided to try something he was ashamed he hadn’t thought of sooner. Nur spoke into her head.
‘I mean you no harm.’  He said, and waited. No response. He tried again, concentrating harder this time. ‘Can you hear me? I mean you no harm’
‘LET ME GOOO!’  Her thoughts screamed.
He could understand her, they had made a connection. Progress...

One year later. Nasim...
“Good afternoon people? You’re hangin’ out with me Nasim Naikuni on your favourite show Voices, where you can throw any question you have regarding life... and living it, at me and the voices in my head will answer them for you... yeah, you heard right, the voices in my head. I’ll be takin’ your calls for the next hour. Let’s begin shall we?” Nasim spoke into the microphone just before a voice-over added...
“NASIM NAIKUNI, THE ONLY RADIO PRESENTER THAT’S LITERALLY GONE BONKERS!” And then was followed by some rock music. ‘So what?... I’m still a rock star... ’ Pink’s lyrics belted out as Nasim removed her headphones to take a breather before she talked to her first caller. A breather... and also to have a bit of a chat with the voice in her head. She walked out of the studio into a corridor where she was out of sight, and concentrated, her eyes crinkling from the effort.
‘Hey, are you there?’
‘Uh huh.’ The prince replied.
‘Okay, we’re on in roughly three minutes. Make me look good babes’
‘Don’t I always?’
‘True dat. What are you doing?’
‘Breakfast.’
‘It’s one in the afternoon... ’
‘This is not my planet, therefore I’m not obliged to follow its rules. I can have a one o’clock breakfast if I want to.’
‘Brunch.’
‘What?’
‘Brunch, what your having would be brunch. Breakfast... aaand lunch?’
‘You see? You get all high and mighty on me about this and you even have a name for it? If it is so wrong to have breakfast at this time, then why would your people give the meal a name? I’m just saying.’ Nur said mockingly.
‘I give up’ She replied with a sigh.
‘Nas... Nas?’
Silence.
She walked back into the studio.
“Caller... you’re on air. Shoot.” Nasim said softly, leaning into the microphone.
“Hey Nasim, lovely job you’re doing by the way.”
“Why thank you dear, but I don’t deserve all the credit you know?”
“Yeah I know... you and the voices in your head... ha-ha! Anyway my name is George, and I’m kinda’ in a predicament at the moment. You see, I have a wife and a family... two kids, but I kinda’ got into this relationship outta’... obligation as opposed to real love...”
“Obligation?”
“Yes. I met my wife five years ago in uni’ and we dated. But looking back, I only got into the relationship because I felt I’d led her on and she loved me soo much, I just couldn’t disappoint her. So I got stuck in a phony relationship, at least on my part. Next thing I know, we are pregnant and... It’s been we ever since.”
“So you want to what? Get out of your marriage?”
“I want to be with the person I truly love...”
“Hooo... **! Scoreboard! Now we have lift off. And how long have you known this person that you truly love George?” She said this with a tinge of amusement in her voice.
“Six years... and we’ve been going out for the past two.” He sounded ashamed.
‘He sounds ashamed.’ She heard Nur say observationally.
‘No kidding.’ She retorted.
(In the past year or so, Nasim and Nur had come to an understanding somewhat. After she had struck him with her purse and the little scuffle they’d had on the rooftop, and after convincing herself that she wasn’t going crazy... or that the cigarette she had been smoking wasn’t laced with marijuana or some other hallucinogen, she finally gave in and listened to the voice speaking to her in her thoughts.
‘Please, just give me a chance to explain. I need your help lady!’ He sounded desperate.
She felt sorry for him, but still suspected she could be going nuts.
He continued. ‘I don’t know where I am. My father is dead and I don’t know where I am or how I arrived here, and you’re the only one that can help me right now...’
Nasim, touched now, replied. “How am I supposed to do that? And how are you doing this telepathy thing? Are you really doing this?” She shook her head violently, like a wet dog trying to dry itself, “I’m very confused right now.”
He looked even more confused. ‘Talk to me in my head, I think it is the only way we can communicate with each other.’
She didn’t know how to.
‘It’s simple, concentrate.’ He said reassuringly.
She tried. Still nothing.
‘I could hear you a moment ago, I don’t understand. Let’s try this slowly, repeat after me... Nur.’ He told her.
She heard him, and was thinking what?
He repeated, ‘Nur.’
She tried thinking the word he’d asked her to repeat as hard as she could but he didn’t seem to be getting anything. She decided that the cigarette must have been laced with something. Here she was, on the roof top of her work building trying to master telepathy, with a stranger who just happened to own a sword. This had to be a dream, a nightmare.
‘I must be high.’
‘Yes! Yes! You’re high!’ She heard the excited reply.
‘What?’
‘You did it!’ Nur said happily, ‘you figured it out. And yes, I was also meaning to ask you about how high we are.’
She had done it. Nasim could hear him and answer back, she felt oddly proud of this accomplishment. Then she asked puzzled. ‘High? You get high?’
‘I am high.’ Came the naive reply.
‘Oh...’
‘Why are we so high up? The palaces on our island are half the size of yours, are you that many in your palace that you need to build it so tall?’
Then she understood. And laughed... ‘Who are you? And how did you get here?’
‘My name is Nur... Prince Nur... how I got here? That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ He was being honest.
And thus begun an adventurous relationship between the two. Nasim took him to her apartment that day, passing curious and disapproving looks all the way. The most difficult part being trying to explain to her boss why she was coming from the roof in the company of someone who dressed like a ******, as he put it. She made up something. And he gave her one of those I’ll accept your story just because... looks. Nasim found that hilarious. But she was glad she had asked Nur to leave the sword behind to be recovered later. That would have been a tad difficult to explain. They got to her apartment block and were met by more disapproving looks from a group of nosey old women, the type that love to mind everyone else’s business but their own, as they walked to the lift. And when they got into apartment F6 on the second floor, she introduced Nu

Here Kid take this what is it? whats it look like? its a prayer book thing yes so take it and hide it under your jumper why? just hide the **** thing so Benedict hides the  black book with red ends under his jumper and follows Anne into the grounds out of the French windows Anne crutches herself across the grass and makes towards the round white table and chairs and plonks herself down in a chair tossing her crutches aside Benedict sits down in the next chair looking back towards the nursing home do you think we were seen? seen doing what Kid? walking across the grass no doubt liberating Sister Dumb-arses prayer book no Anne says Benedict turns around and stares at her dont keep looking around Kid or the penguins will guess youve been up to no good me been up to no good it was your idea to take the prayer book but youve got it Kid not me but you said take it and you did well done Kid Anne says smiling she rubs her leg stump and pulls the blue skirt down further what do we do now? Benedict asks looking at Anne tempted to turn around and look behind him sit tight Kid sit tight but I cant hide the book under my jumper all day he says pass it under the table to me so he passes the prayerbook to Anne under the white table and she opens it in her lap he looks at her his stomach tightening guess whose it is? Anne asks he shrugs dont know its only Sister Bridgets how do you know? has it got her name in it? no they dont own personal property its just that it has this prayer card in it with an image of St Bridget on one side and a prayer on the other and on the top shes scrawled Sr Bridget in her bird-**** hand writing God shell go ape he says looking round at the nursing home what do we do? shush Kid what do want them to know weve got it? he stares at the building imagines the nun galloping across the lawn towards them her black robes billowing behind her like Batman turn round Kid youll look suspicious he looks round and stares at her sitting in the chair as if butter wouldnt melt in her mouth on a hot day where are you going to put it? he asks out of the sight of their eyes she says where though? she pulls up her blue skirt and tucks the black prayer book in her navy blue underwear and pulls down the skirt and brushes out the any signs you cant keep it there he says why not my knickers she says are they going to search me there? she says now just go get my wheelchair and  we can go visit the sea out the back gate he sighs and wanders back towards the home trudging across the lawn leaving Anne sitting in the chair like some royal queen on her throne she lifts up her skirt and adjusts the book more securely just as well I wore the passion killers Mum bought me she says to herself and lets down the skirt again and sits staring towards the home as she sits a few of the kids come out and make their way to the swings and slide they know her and avoid her like a plague a nun comes out too Anne stares at her its Sister Lucy a young one green as grass more ****** that the Blessed ****** herself Anne says under breath the nun walks towards Anne her hands inside her black habit how are we today Anne? the nun asks smiling my ****** leg aches Anne says o dear the nun says looking at Annes leg visible under the table have you seen Sister Paul about some pain killers? no not yet Anne says anyway its not this leg its the one not there my stump leg o I see Sister Luke says staring at the unseen stump beneath the blue skirt I could pray for your leg if you would like me to the nun says might help Anne says putting on her pious pose its hurts so much I feel like crying she allows tears to dribble out of her eyes(shes an expert of conjuring tears out of her eyes) o my dear child the nun says coming around the table and placing a hand around Annes shoulders Ill ask Sister Paul about some tablets the nun says thank you Anne whimpers feeling the prayer book move slightly as she moves in the chair she tries to adjust it with her hand to a more secure position Benedict comes across the lawn pushing the wheelchair he sees the nun and his eyes enlarge and he senses danger have they suspected Anne already about the missing prayer book? he wheels the chair behind Anne the nun looks at him arent you a good boy she says yes hes my best friend Anne says smiling through the glassy eyes the nun smiles well I best get back Ill see Sister Paul about those pills the nun says and walks off towards the home that was close Benedict say she didnt mention the prayer book Anne says she just came about me and the ****** leg and offering prayers o I see he says gazing at the stump area thinking about the stump of her leg hes seen many times are you going gawk at my stump all day or are you going to help get in the ****** wheelchair? o right yes he says and helps her get from the chair and into the wheelchair holding it steady at the back make sure the prayer book doesnt slip out of my knickers Kid she says as she rises from the chair and plonks into the wheelchair she moves the book to a more comfortable position and pulls her skirt down pass her knee just as they were about to move away Sister Bridget comes across the lawn towards them like a rhino on heat hang on Kid here comes the penguin wait wait the nun says raising a hand Benedict pauses pushing the wheelchair and stares at the approaching nun keep cool Kid Anne says under her breath act innocent as the Pope at a nudist colony Benedict feels himself perspire the nun stands in front of Anne in the wheelchair a prayer book has gone missing the nun says gazing at Anne has it? Anne says in an innocent tone yes it was taken from the Common Room shall we help look for it? Anne asks have you seen it? the nun asks no not that I know of whats it look like? Anne asks as if butter wouldnt melt a prayer book is what it looks like the nun says eyeing Anne with her suspicious eyes black cover with red ends no cant say I have Anne says Benedict looks away at the trees behind of them at the avenue between them and you Benedict have you seen it? the nun asks staring at him her eyes over him like maggots he shudders no sister not seen it at all he hates lying to  a nun he feels as if she looks into his soul and at the minor sins lurking there like naughty children then the nun looks down in Annes lap gazes at the outline of the leg stump not hiding it are we? the nun says hiding what? Anne says my stump? no I tried hiding it but its always there each morning I wake up the nun screws up her eyes and peers at them both no I mean the book where is it? no idea Anne says Benedict looks down at Annes lap where have you hidden it? the nun says havent seen it Anne says one of the children says she saw you take it the nun says me? Anne says you cant take the word of child I believe what the child tells me Benedict looks at the outline of the leg stump the child says you have it about your person she saw you from the upper bedroom window the nun says sternly must be mistaken must have seen me rub my stump they always watch me rubbing it so nosey the nun sighs and gazes at Annes lap and at the stumps outline show me your leg stump? the nun says hands on her hips Anne pulls up her skirt to reveal the stump Benedict looks too wondering if the book outline could be seen under the knickers the nun looks away where have you put it? put what? the book the prayer book the nun says I havent seen it Anne says as innocent as she can muster innocence lies will get you to Hell the nun says and walks off across the grass like a bad tempered bear what now? Benedict says Anne takes the book out of her knickers and hands it to him warm and scented what do I do with it? he asks shove it on that other chair under the table and were off to the beach so he puts the book under the table and pushes Anne off in the chair off out of reach.

My water tower in the sun, my pillar in the dark.
Rust on a warehouse door, **** anatomy of a shark.
A hidden, naked cartoon, vulnerable and hurt.
The afternoon rays of light, exposing my empire of dirt.

Squid in a dark room, forgotten seat for you to ****.
Discovering rotten apples, the fruitless empty pits.
Far on the *****, the eye is negligent to mankind.
No on has *****, yet "American ****" isn't hard to find.

From this floor to the next, watch out for the holes.
Stalactites are forming, between the rods and the poles.
The gang is all here, each with a gat.
Questioning Detroit, wondering "where da party at."

A symphonic silence, from abandoned piano keys.
For the love of the city, the birds and the bees.
A ladder to assist you, in anything but a climb.
Wasting away the day, when all you have is time.

Where they once opted elevators, they now offer only stairs.
Peacefully residing, in the asbestos, grime, and the glares.
The walls they're all puking, a paint chip epidemic.
No chalk at the chalkboard, a failed academic.

Some sign walls in scribble, some bless us with art.
Beautiful light fixtures hang, while sanctuaries fall apart.
The debris and the rubble, wooden frames and the splinters.
A back road in the city, in the dead cold of winter.

An altar to stand at, with no sermon or expectation.
A pew a sinner can rest, with only God's examination.
A wall devoted to an *****, hymnal at hand.
Stained glass more exaggerated, with shards in the plan.

Dancing on floorboards in rafters, climbing up to rooftops.
Wandering and trespassing, trying to avoid cops.
Panda bears, pillar ****, and playing in the snow.
In the shadows and the blackest rooms, I really like to go.

Pussycats in hallways and the golden lightning kitty.
Posing seductively in vacancy is where I feel pretty.
I've seen the light at the end of the tunnel, I've found King David.
Interrogated with the whys and don'ts, though I wish they'd save it.

Picasso in the projects, Sloth and Marilyn Manson.
Fairmont Creamery Company, a view held for ransom.
Some window panes are for looking out, some for looking in.
Struggle Buggy Snow White still sleeps, forever strugglin'.

I've seen them ask for me, "Warriors come out to play."
Detroit is to me, what night is to day.
I caught Pikachu and have seen a **** elephant.
In the frost of the Fisher, I found a heart that was spent.

But the cardio made of brick, spoke with such sass.
Resting bones at the Packard, in an armchair that's trash.
Patriots are nosey and robots attack.
Never putting an hour on when I'll get back.

On top of the world, or looking up from the bottom.
Abandoned buildings, schools, churches, there's something about them.
Where a tree has a better chance of rooting and planting.
When a society suddenly seems a bit slanting.

Color a flower on a wall that's been broken and charred.
Breathe life into a battlefield, encourage the scarred.
Take away ego and vanity, glance into a filthy mirror.
Don't just listen to a person, actually hear.

Sure maybe at times I may seem a bit morbid.
And my words can be harsh and approach kind of forward.
But when you're standing alone, in a hallways that's dead.
Whose last bell has been rung and last book has been read.

Then you hear footsteps from the floor up above.
It's in that uncanny awareness.
And fear...
I find love.

Sometimes I whisper my secrets to the ceiling.
Only when the lights are off,
And the fan is spinning.
The fan is very nosey.
I think he is a German spy.
Or maybe I'm the German spy,
And that's what my secrets are all about.
No one will ever know.
Except,
Of course,
For the ceiling.

(for John and Teckla Clark)

Ours yet not ours, being set apart
As a shrine to friendship,
Empty and silent most of the year,
This room awaits from you
What you alone, as visitor, can bring,
A weekend of personal life.

In a house backed by orderly woods,
Facing a tractored sugar-beet country,
Your working hosts engaged to their stint,
You are unlike to encounter
Dragons or romance: were drama a craving,
You would not have come.

Books we do have for almost any
Literate mood, and notepaper, envelopes,
For a writing one (to "borrow" stamps
Is the mark of ill-breeding):
Between lunch and tea, perhaps a drive;
After dinner, music or gossip.

Should you have troubles (pets will die
Lovers are always behaving badly)
And confession helps, we will hear it,
Examine and give our counsel:
If to mention them hurts too much,
We shall not be nosey.

Easy at first, the language of friendship

Is, as we soon discover,
Very difficult to speak well, a tongue
With no cognates, no resemblance
To the galimatias of nursery and bedroom,
Court rhyme or shepherd's prose,

And, unless spoken often, soon goes rusty.
Distance and duties divide us,
But absence will not seem an evil
If it make our re-meeting
A real occasion. Come when you can:
Your room will be ready.

In Tum-Tum's reign a tin of biscuits
On the bedside table provided
For nocturnal munching. Now weapons have changed,
And the fashion of appetites:
There, for sunbathers who count their calories,
A bottle of mineral water.

Felicissima notte! May you fall at once
Into a cordial dream, assured
That whoever slept in this bed before
Was also someone we like,
That within the circle of our affection
Also you have no double.

What if she was caught drinking and then the nosey nellies would be thinking again
of just how ****** up She could be and how they have something fun to spin
the Doctors of Spin
the Ladies of Sin they call us when we get all liquored up and forget about our children in the pickup truck
the cursed reality of boredom and monotony
the drowning days of diapers rotting in the corner of the bedroom...while She visits with "friends" in the hall
Take a drag
Turn into a hag
Get so mad cause the nosey nellies just don't understand how messed up your "life" is
and how much you hate
yours,
your friends
and
your family's
Cause none of them really care...they just love to stare and spin there tales of woe
Pointless woe
Turn into a ***
and next year it will be more of the same to start at the beginning again.
She won't remember what she promised or what she lied about
She might remember what you cried about
It will be ok though cause in 10 years, that kid will be out the door
Peddling the hash
Stealing people's stash
and one day it may come....he turns into a man
while his momma is just too numb.

I checked the mail everyday hungover feeling like **** probably looking just as bad.
The mail clerk always looked at me strangely .
How's the writing going ?

I had made the mistake one time of speaking to her one day.
She saw I was always sending out envelops to different magazines it was a small town what can I say she was a nosey *****.

Well I'm almost making it I replied to her walking out the door.
It must be great seeing your words in print .
I don't know when they are I will tell you what it's like I replied .

I  was standing at the door more than ready to leave get back home mix a drink and start my routine all over again.

She looked puzzled .
You get so many back surely you must get some things published .
There rejections they always are.

Aww come on you haven't even read them yet .
I'm psychic I don't need to read them.

How come you keep sending them out then if you know the result?

Well you see just like women turning me down I seem to never tire of asking besides if I badger them long enough just like a woman in a bar after a few drinks maybe I just might get lucky.

She just looked at me .
Well you have a nice day MR Robbins.

I left made my way home  happy I could make the nosey ***** uncomfortable I never understood peoples need to know everything I loved my privacy I hated social networks there false ******* happiness all on display it was like a store window all fake all ******* mannequins and fake smiles .

It was never reality besides who gave a **** what you had for dinner !

I sat the mail on my desk or on that over crowded thing that I believe once was a desk  .
Mixed a gin and tonic and began the self abuse that was reading rejection letters .

Most were the bland same **** .
Sorry to say no , We have to pass sorry and good  luck .
One was a card not even a rejection slip these people were pros to bad the women didn't hand these out at bars .

Dear sir.

Thank you for buying me drinks all night making crude jokes while staring at my ****.
Sorry to say not if you were the only man on earth and even if there wasn't a battery left in this world for my ******* .

Sincerely
Valarie  .


Now that would at least be good for a laugh I thought .

I got to the last one some little college paper known for there edgy ******* .

Dear MR Robbins  

We are happy to inform you on your recent  submission to us.
We will be publishing your poem.
A Good Day To Feel Slightly Bad .
In next months issue of are paper thank you again and please feel free
to send us more work.

******* I thought to myself.
Now how would I ever face the post ***** again knowing that I was a total fraud as a psychic.

Well either way I was always happy to be wrong.

I mixed another drink I thought about telling friends about my recent success.
Then I thought to myself.
I really didn't feel like making any today .

Cheers .

Gonz .

"The elephant seal is an unsightly creature.
I heard it today on TV
Then a special on smart and wonderful dolphins
Who never would wish to be me"

"All this rubbery ******* I use for a face
That my mother just says she adores
Is a hideous masking of elephantine proportions
That nobody else could afford"


You're not ugly, oh dear elephant seal!
You are mountains more graceful than that
Don't ever wish you were a rabbit
A turtle, a dog, or a curious cat

So a parrot can talk,
But it gets him in trouble
And a hamster is cuddly
But untidy--makes his home in the rubble

Sure, you haven't got fur
but you haven't got mange!
You're *****-and-span as your ocean
Your sea home-on-the-range

And your nose is real big
But you've never been nosey
You are much too polite
To make others un-cozy

I have watched you go swimming
You're majestic as waves
And you love to explore
All the watery caves

You have beautiful eyes
And I think you're just swell
Look, someday, you'll be happy
You'll be so proud as well

"Well I guess I am funny
I like to make friends
I've gotten good at catching squids
And other popular trends"

See--that's just the spirit!
You're as magnificent as any
But what makes you so great?
You're more humble than many

there once was a tall nosey stargazer name Alexander
who love the night sky and love to stare
at it -one night while staring
he saw a bright star falling
he imagine reporting the ******, pushing off the falling star.

Phone rings, only breathing
Landlord yelling, dog barking,
Mexican music, nosey neighbors
Long cigarette and goodbye girl
She’s absent and she’s catatonic
She’s boiling in unwanted fever
She hums as she irons unplugged
She hums as she cleans up the blood
She’s levitating against her will
She’s nailing the door shut with a candle
She’s rolling him up in a carpet
Yeah, your high horse and your sports
Are just heavy metaphors
For something a lot sweatier
****** Made Her Menstrual
You supplied the weapons

It was still there
the old outhouse
on the edge
of the woods,

he saw, making
his way around it,
his eyes scanning
each part, each

memory soaked
into the wood
grown old.
He opened the door

and peered in.
The smell faded
through lack of use.
Cobwebs still hung there,

spiders raced
across the ground.
No other sound.
Memories stirred.

He and she had ***
here once; door locked
against the world,
against the nosey neighbours,

her parents, the night wind
and bright moon’s glow.
He can smell her scent still,
that smell she had,

fresh apples and hay.
He walked about
the small space,
his footsteps moved

over where once they lay.
Not planned, out of the passion
of that meeting, kissing
and holding, young flesh

stirred and the need
to be satisfied.
He leaned down
and put his fingers

across the ground,
rubbed where once
her buttocks rested,
her legs wide, her eyes

in shade of the semi dark,
her body captured
his juices in the passion’s tide.
Long since gone

she to some other place
that one night of ***
ingrained in his mind
and on the ground

and outhouse walls of wood.
He’d love to see her
here again and **** her
once more if he could.

Light this up real quick lighter
****** hear Sage and they go insane
Who's to blame
Lonely soul just a name you can't detain this brain
Scandalous
Triple six what the **** is sane?
Seeing kittens without the ******* haze
Stroke game long and fast that's Usain
Can't hear you over your girls moans, what the ******* saying?
Super lubin
Leaving all you spoofs
Stupid ****** leave me drooling on the stool
So above to even fall for these hoes cause they come and go like my sadness that makes me feel like a ghost
Too legit to even roast on my foes
Thoughts of overdose
But I can't die cause I am the Goat
Dismiss the dope
Very cynical
Self heal without the clinical
I've been there
I wish it was that easy but it was too difficult
Get it from the back and yo girl in fear
Always teased for being weird
Changing routes like I'm swerving the steer
Off some xanax and all the *** isn't pleasing my emotion to disappear into what's really real
That's death and thats what make you ****** squeal
Ruthless, heart of steel
All I see is snakes when I walk the halls
Down to ball
Never for a *****, money and nothing else
Helps me dwell
Living well trapped in this mental cell
214 ***** where I learned to be myself
Live to excel and to focus on my wealth
Dumb ****** live to flaunt what they cant even cop
Your girl pop lock and drop on this 7inch ****
Dumb ****** get socked up in this world like if their throats clogged
****** sour lime
These acts so undefined
Yo girl kinda fine my girl a ******* dime
The truth I'll help you find
In time we'll be divine and our hearts won't divide
I swear these ******* flinch when I leave em cause the sticky getting to the *******
Up on a podium on some potent
I told myself I'd quit cause I'm just a student
Bish yo man got them moobies
Bish I'm on yo girls mental movies
Bish we smokin some doubies
Bish we making moves
Bish keep up with the groove
Bish yo girl got them cooties
Bish you acting pretty goofy
***** not into materialism but this **** is Gucci
Bish we trip on some lucy
Takes me a minute to make yo girl juicy
Nosey ****** boogie
Bish I'm genius but I'm still pretty gloomy

Will Rogers used to say he never met a man he didn’t like.
I admire people like him.
But I’m not one of them.
I meet people I don’t like every day.
It just happens.

Little Grudges, my friend Sal used to say.
“You have a lot of little grudges.”

My neighbor for example,  banging the trash can lids
Outside my window
Two in the morning
Not that it woke me up
But I get up to look
Peek down there
Naturally nosey person that I am
And he’s pushing pushing
What in hell is he pushing at that hour?

So, Will Rogers I am not.
I probably wouldn’t have liked him either.

i

there does seem to be a lot of nosey parkers
things can rapidly become darker
a momentum of their own
soon,again,be traipsing across broad

fields of fresh bone..intellectuals are
usually the first to go the written word
suspect decadent art the smooth hand
and on till we are all looking over our

collective shoulder..work worshipped
lord what we believe in the name of
collective security and a bigger better
future..!?

ii

the goldfish in our park pond however
seem very happy together
they patiently wait their turn
and take a small bite as required..

they know they are many small smaller
all the various colours and the big ones
but there is the sun and there is suffice
they will circle love and say ola..

*
inspired by executing society

Who are you truly, behind closed doors?
Do you respect all that is theirs and yours?
Do you smile at yourself like you do on the streets?
Or is that just a cover for your sorrowful heartbeats?
Are you reluctant to doing all that you scorn others for?
Or are you just a ***** hypocrite and nothing more?
Do you truly care about the answers to these questions?
Or are you just nosey without a spine or suggestions?
So many questions but too little answers,
the verdict will **** us all like cancers.

Anny Horowitz
pressed her nose
against the glass
window pane

of Nero’s coffee bar
where you sat drinking
coke in ice in a glass
her ghostly

blue eyes
peered at you
a smile lingered
her small hands

were palm flat
on the pane
so that her lifeline
and headline were visible

where she pressed
you beckoned
with a nod
of your head

for her to come in
and she came in
and sat in the seat
beside you

her phantom
1940s clothes
seemed neat and clean
and her blonde hair

was ribboned
and looked fresh washed
Anny’s hand touched
the back of your chair

her eyes searched
about her
the fingers
of her other hand

toyed
with an empty glass
on the small
round table

she talked
in her soft voice
and asked about
the drink in the glass

and you told her
and she smiled
and was fascinated
by the bubbles rising

around the ice cubes
a couple came in
and a took a seat nearby
he went off

to order drinks
and she sat
and looked at you
then away again

not seeing Anny
sitting there
Mozart music
playing

in the background
Anny sat listening
her head
swaying slowly

to the music
she said
she remembered
the music

her feet
in black shoes
swung back and forth
under the chair  

she said
at Auschwitz
they played music
but it made her sad

to remember
you took out
your mobile phone
and spoke into it

did they play Wagner
at Auschwitz?
you asked
she said she thought so

the woman nearby
looked at you
wondering who
you were talking to

then looked away
what is that?
Anny asked
my mobile phone

you said
phone?
she said
it’s like the telephones

in telephone boxes
years ago
but smaller
and you can go around

with them
in your hand
Anny nodded
but the woman frowned

giving you a stare
you sipped your coke
nice and cold
refreshing

against heat
coming through
the coffee bar window
Anny gazed

at the woman
then put out
her hand
and touched yours

and it was cool
and soft like silk
as if a breeze
had blown

against your skin
you gazed
at her ribboned hair
her blue eyes

then she faded
and was gone
just the nosey woman
giving you a stare

not knowing
your little Jewish friend
had come and gone
and was no longer there.

There a few things I need to say, and this isn't a poem. its more of a letter or a ***** out. I have seen the crap you post. I don't get u *** u act like u were some innocent victim. Im some horrible lying **** who broke ur heart. ***? Let me say my dear boy that I have loved u from day one and I still do. ur the one whos got this anti -me thing going for no reason *** ur afraid of letting your true feelings be felt and delt with. I may have said a fib or two when we spoke online the first time but at least everythg I said then wasn't a complete lie unlike others...... I don't hold that against you. I don't bring that up to you and talk **** about it. You seem to think that just because I didn't ever say I loved you that I didn't... it was so hard for me not to say it or to try and not feel it *** of her sitting in your bed each nite. that's why I didn't ask you stuff *** I didn't want to seem like I was being all nosey and being all in your business. you didn't ever say so I didn't ask. I figured if you wanted to tell me you would. I didn't want you to think I was trying to know your all of ur personal ****. I tried so hard to not have feelings for u and I thought I did a good job but that too was a joke. I have never felt like I do about u. it ***** that we don't talk like we used to and really ***** that we don't see each other....I miss u so fuckn bad. I still cry over u *** u were my perfext match. you are strong where I am weak and vise versa. Ur really great in the areas I need help in and I can help in the ones ur not in. I still want you to read to me. I still remember the things u said to me the first times we used to talk. the time where I fell in total love with u. I pains me to see some of the stuff u say on there. I didn't mean to not ask things or seem interested in you or act like I didn't want you to come over....I did that *** I wanted to see if u really wanted to come over.. um...all I wanted was to be with u from the beginning and I still do  but I don't think u will *** your trying your hardest to forget me. I guess im  not one to stand out and keep one wanting ......I wish I could erase all ive found out since oct 1st *** it makes it even harder to get over u....I don't want to but its really stupid to keep trying if you have made urself believe that u hate me or convinced yur self u do. I will write more if I remember but I have to go to bed now and I hope u sleep too... It just upsets me that I meant nothing like the others and that uve made urself hate me.....when I cant stop loving u.....this *****.

It is as unpleasant as a nail in a your tire
or getting burned by fire
it is sometimes better to think twice
like before stepping onto the lake's ice
it came at us full speed
& with no warning label first to read
it disgusted me in every way
a party favor I wished that hadn't shown up to play
it wasn't at all like the rest
unwillingly I was given insomnia to give a trial test
mistaken for something we assumed was STILL there
but instantly after letting go of the black swan
we knew something really odd started going on
the usual way was UNusually strong
still we shrugged it off like nothing was wrong
dancing, picture posing, shot taking & celebrating
...looking at that time now, **** what a first impression it was creating
a night oh so memorable
definitely did we make it extremely unforgettable
we attempted to call it a night & get some shut eye
wide awake hour after hour sleep never joined, only failed attempts to try
so questions we're asked, "WHAT THE **** DID WE DO?!"
this whole time they thought we already knew
thank goodness we only had that one
could you only imagine what any  more of it may have done??
.....Sadly though, it gained itself another follower & it didn't take much
that mind just couldn't control the urge & resist, got ****** into its clutch
while passing the time, since the sandman missed our eyes
in the stillness of the room...there was countless clicks & flashes of us trying to "SMIZE"
Top Model had nothing on how awesome we pose
SHOOOOOOT, we at this point, are do it yourself picture pros!!!

....Now after some months have gone by & it's the New Year
& I knew it...the time had come, something I had too fear
...following it had returned & continued
tagging along was a ****** ******* attitude
fighting & arguments began
I wanted it to stop, trying so hard to end it was my plan
nights of wet cheeks & swollen eyes, tears dripping
it seemed the further & further away defeating it was slipping
I knew after that night
Winning the battle wasn't near in sight
the ONE party favor that just continued having an endless after party going
it's break obsolete, it just kept on flowing
with unsuccessful outcomes every time I was offered to join in
I STILL REFUSED to just let this monster win
&..... ONE DAY.... with help from my best, it all came to an end
into the toilet & flushed was what we did recommend
it was finally disposed of & far away
....A year or two passed & people didn't stay

....Summertime, when troubles are being destroyed daily & forgotten
of those who treated us quite horribly rotten
road trips to enjoy, nights out dancing & drinking
not a care to bother with, at least that is what we were thinking
new favors had graced our presence in our new party scene
& for once, our company was drama less & far from mean
Thizz was the past feel good choice we'd chose
when along came Molly, she showed us how feeling GOOOOOD realllly goes
Well **** it girl, you weren't lying now were you??
You're a whole new experience that I could get used to
"I JUST WANT TO DANCE"
"OHH YESSS, COME ON, they're playing 'Bad Romance' "
at first I needed some good old fashion peer pressure
I was nervous, scared, & kind of unsure
But I was easy to convince
& so thankful for each & every experience
Very, Very glad it was a risk I didn't miss
there's just nothing that compares to this....
.....Well along came that wicked, wicked party animal
who hadn't changed at all
single now, with a new attitude & mind set
....I risked it & decided to put it all in & place my bet
"WINNER, WINNER CHICKEN DINNER"
..........months later, " Hmmmm, have you gotten thinner?"
Where our weight had gone
was all we were questioned on
pretty soon rumors began to spread
so much dumb **** was accused & said
Oh please, give me a ******* break
Soon they were smashed & proven all to be obviously FAKE
jealousy & nosey that's all
haters will always be hating but will never be my downfall

...We found ourselves, the ones that got lost & abused
broken down, scarred, voiceless & confused
We were only off our fates course
disoriented from a toxic source
Our souls found their center again &
it's only fueled with peace
With high hopes to keep it continuing to increase
peace is what we needed to be saved
no savior with his crucifix could've changed our souls that were slaved
Peace is all you need & it exists, just believe
don't be fooled or tricked by those who try to deceive
peace is all about respect, love  & unity
a positive sense of mentality
being an optimist is pretty ******* dope
....Never giving up & always having some kind of hope!!

They say your past makes you wiser
My past just haunts me
It makes me see what a fool I’ve been all these years
To think that I could actually love you
Or the fact that you loved me, as you said

With age comes wisdom, they say
Laughing and tossing around sayings of the past, age and wisdom
I’m sitting thinking what my age brought along with it

The nights filled with empty liquor bottles as I try to drown my sorrows
The long evenings spent watching the stars come up and thinking of your eyes
The way we used to be
Or maybe it’s the mornings
The ones where I wake up and you’re not there next to me
And then I get that feeling of regret and I start to beat myself up

You know I think it’s the afternoons that take the gold
‘Cause by this time my boss is calling me asking me to explain what the hell is wrong with me
And honestly if I told him what was truly wrong, he’d call me crazy
So I just sit there in silence until he tells me not to bother coming in
Cause by now this is my third and final strike
He’s gone and I’m left with just the dial tone, or maybe it was my heart beating

I throw the phone down, but it rings again
This time it’s the landlord asking for all the rent I haven’t paid yet
This time he doesn’t say cover it in next month’s rent, he tells me to either pay or get out
I wait and wait and wait for another word, but all I hear is the dial tone

I push the phone off the bed and try to focus my eyes, but all I can make out in the distance is your smile – the white gloss that shined whenever you opened your mouth
I try to push myself off the bed and I landed face first on broken glass
I couldn’t remember anything about glass, but I seemed to picture the fact that I was so mad at myself I smashed the bottles still filled with liquor to the floor
Letting it sink in the rugged carpet
I laid there for a few minutes, or maybe it was a few hours, I couldn't remember

Finally it was evening again, but I wouldn't be watching the stars
The phone rang and rang and rang
I pulled up the strength to get off the phone and answer
But at ease it was my co-worker, you know the ones that never seem to mind their own business

The questions that never stopped, why am I not there yet
Do I know I’ve been fired, blah blah blah and so on
Finally, I’m tired of it and just hang up

I drag myself to the bathroom
Watch myself up and get ready for the night round
I try to clean up the broken glass, but all I see is your face rather than my reflection
I leave the glass where it is, in one big pile on the floor next to my bed

I moved to the screen door and opened it up and began my way down the long stride
I walk down the street, cigarette in left, liquor bottle in right
I look up to the stars and there is a big dark, glowing…

SNAP BACK TO REALITY

I’m still walking that small, narrow street; the only difference is it’s the night
I always run out of liquor way before I finish driving my sorrows away
So this time I packed extra, and I mean lots of extras

I’m basically wasted by now and I keep walking trying to make out where I was at the moment
Somewhere between Crazy street and Mental Lane
I took out another liquor bottle smashing the last one to the ground
I waited for the sound from the crash, but nothing
Heard nothing in return, not even a thank you
You ungrateful ******* ground
I continued my unthinkable walk not yet sure where I was going
Somehow my heart understood and gave me what I needed
Not what I wanted
I ended up, blacked out wasted on your doorsteps

Somehow, my heart understood what my pain couldn’t make out for me
And you took me into arms just before I fell

Woke up the next morning with a massive hangover
I was in a bed, but this time I got out and onto the floor
But this floor was different; there wasn’t any broken glass on the floor
There weren’t any phone calls from the job or nosey co-workers
There was just peace

I found my way into the kitchen and there the memories struck me
I thought of all the times we spent together, but now I was a drunken mess

Somehow my heart understood and there I was
All this just to end up in this room with all these memories
My heart explained what the pain couldn't
And it felt what the tears couldn't

The sirens,
They always make it seem worse,
But not this time!
Relief was felt in the house,
They knew,
Reality kicked in,
She wasn't walking away from this one!
That eerie silence,
The calm before the storm,
Then,
Panic, tubes, masks,
Certainly not the norm,
Nosey neighbours,
Sandwiches,
Condolensces exchanged,
The prying looks,
The stuff she took,
The pity about her age,
Saddened mingled anger at her actions,
Neglection of left over siblings,
Endless feelings of blame, and guilt,
The stupid, senseless ramblings,
But letting go, in just a while,
She'll leave this house for ever,
Her self destruction, struck a blow..



(c) eileen mcgreevy 2009

April 24th around 5:50 pm a group of boys took it upon themselves to laugh.
I proceeded to look around to see if someone had fallen, to see if someone was wearing, or not wearing, something they shouldn’t,
I waited.
I began to walk faster.
“But It’s Better if you Do” by Panic at the Disco was blaring in my ears so whatever they were saying was blocked out by the blare of Brendon Urie’s voice…
I still don’t get what was so funny—but I have an idea.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been subject to jokes about how I look.
I am the **** of everyone’s fat joke,
My comedy is a product of every snicker, every cackle, every time I’ve been called Big Momma or Rasputia.
My pearly white smile is painted by the white lies I tell myself and everyone else to get through the day.
I wonder if people ever stop to think if there is a person, suffocating, lonely in the center of this big, fat meat suit.
I wonder if people ever think before they speak or laughing at me when I eat.
I wonder if people know that I was raised by the strongest single mother in the world, so I have skin tougher than steel so their words can’t hurt me,
A mother who raised 3 children on her own.
A mother of an 8 year old
Whose father died in Honduras 2 years ago after being deported back 2 years before that—she told us it was a car accident,
but my mother taught me was to be nosey and to always search for the truth, especially when it’s being hidden from you.
My little brother’s father, the love of my mother’s life, was gunned down murdered in cold blood.
She is a mother of a 23 year old
Who has had Asperger’s his entire life, has dealt with being shipped from school to school because it’s so hard to find a special education program for him.
My mother taught me patience is the biggest virtue, and that my anger with his repetitive questions and running around is nothing compared to the anger he feels with himself every day for being a “burden” on those around him.
A mother who
Beats herself up over the fact my brother my father’s side is addicted to drugs,
My brother’s mother was a drug addict and so was my father at the time,
And even though my father was able to clean himself up, he had so many warrants out for his arrest it forced him to play hide and seek with the police and his own children
So for months at a time my mom would take care of my brother, thought about adopting him, but of course that didn’t happen—
His mom got clean.
My dad was finally caught, things were looking up
Until his mother got ***** again, rolling with dogs, her arms look like she was eaten up by fleas
My father was never a father,
Disappearing for weeks without so much as even a breath and reappearing as if he never left
No wonder my brother can never stay clean.
My mother taught me to love my brother unconditionally, that no matter what I have to laugh with him when he needs a laugh
Because my brother doesn’t know what stability is, he doesn’t know what standing on his own two feet feels like because he is always high.
She taught me to always laugh with him because I don’t know if he’ll come down the next time he gets high.
A mother of
An 18 year old girl who suffers from clinical depression and anxiety, but has to keep it swept under the rug because the public school system failed in teaching her about mental illness.
However, my mother taught me that as much as I depend on her she depends on me, that I am her backbone and she believes that even if I sink I will learn how to swim before the tide engulfs me and I’m taken too far from the shore.
I’m ripping off this big, fat meat suit because I’m tired of suffocating,
I’m learning how to swim.
I can feel the sun now.

Amazon heats her burning waste,

she’s tickling time with paint squint eyes.

With a sinkhole grip of uncertain hold;

she just babble talk babble, babble just blah,

blah and blab.

She dropped the room flat cold -

down so down.

Stole the show, priced the surprise;

little to show and much too nosey,

mind your business, it’s all go go.

2010 Barry Comer