once upon a clock
my house was but a pile
of cards
dealt badly to me
or so i thought
but as time rolled by
riding a mossless rock
i was inclined to think
i could rebuild my deck
using a straighter arrow
and some crazy glue
and make a  cosy nook to
theorize and dissertate
on the new and better
portion, for to sit on
my plate.
for as the wind blows
it can bring fortunate things
of gilded dust and dedelian
wings.
sonetimes it is the choice that matters.
and somtimes it is ok
to just sit on the dock
and watch it all blow away
but don't watch kettkes.for they are just introvert and shy... now the toaster however
is a pop up kinda guy.
ok so now this garden path is leading somewhere a tad weird
down past the zen all calm and white mountains
to the quirky and a little bezerky secret garden
wall and locked where all the gnomes have ned kelly beards, and the lions are dandy and a titch randy.
the dragon snaps are snippity and the roses
are just **** posers and the camelia's would **** for a good cup of tea.

but enough of the garden tour,
we needs must be giving attention to the
matter at hand tho sleight as it be
we have a house of cards to rebuild

it's past midnight
and my thoughts is just
fuzz, lintballs and
cotton candy
rolling around like
tumble weeds
across a vast and barren plain
that purports to  a working
brain.
i am so very far beyond
myself that i am forgetting
who i am....why...

it is grant writing season
and i have used my quota
of words ...

so just visualize
something wonderful,
off to the west over there..
while i sleep over under
this tree here....
and if i am quiet enough, maybe i will come back,
to me.

then the carniva,
will begin again
tommorrow...
sonetimes real life is
such a grind...

For my first poem ill start with a welcome. You have now entered my world now step back listen to the storys of a young boy from baytown  where hes from. I like to write mostly about life, and how sonetimes it makes u wanna **** yourself  with a knife.
Everyone can is welcome here, you dont need to fear, for im not god im just like anyone on here. -Arnulfo garza

Its not a suicide
Im not going to due tonight
Disclosure your not reading that note
Its a heart with a tendency to melt
The sleeve just shrugs and it slides off
Theres no back bone
It always falls to sorrow
Its a dark hole
That light trys to shine in
Its my life
Sonetimes it does a bit of good
But mostly it poison s and destroy s all that walk through
Its my heart
Its the one i got
Its messed up really twisted in an ugly way
Ruins days and dreams of suicide because it loves so much
Maybe its just confused
The rain knows too
The sun sees it soon
But the moon
It speaks the pain
The barrel to the chin
In the waves
Where a body can be drifted away
Dont fret
Im ok
I wont do this
Because my twisted heart loves too