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When the world is in trouble and theres nowhere left to turn.
Well your **** outta luck till then theres the Gonzo report.

Live from hidden location in a Florida basment broadcasting
now it's time for the Gonzo report.
With your team of in depth and seldom sane news team.

Your anchor man Gonzo   co Anchor that Batsheba
weather chick Neva finally gotta mention Flores.
Sports with your favorite ****** Richard Shepard.

And then theres Paula Swanson  who's sitting on my other side
I dont really know why  but eveyone likes Paula so who gives a *****.
Who wants a sandwhich im just saying.
And are field reporters Jeremy Wyatt,Chris Smith,And Mr E,

This just in.
A old man lost control of his car running over 17 people
and seriously ******* off one dwarf.
And if your keeping track at home kids it's old farts 20 crazy texting while driving teen *****   15.

Theres big trouble in Cairo kiddies  with more  no the situation
are own version  of snooky Bathsheba   take it away.
the camera zooms into  the   queen of Hello.
I swear to God Gonzo if  dont back the **** up i will knife you
you crazy *******  and put some ****** pants on you ******.

Yes Bathsheba ******* the outside  and  kinda ****** all around as well
but enough with the foreplay children.
Oh look Paula made cookies!
Baths began here report on troubles that had befallen this country
And as i mixed a drink it made me wonder.
Were the **** is Eygpt.

Opps looks like i dropped my cookie.
Like a mighty ninja with a hot flash I was met with a searing
pain to my nose.
In the name of Cindy Crawford what was that for?

Thats for even thinking bout going under that table.
But .
No Baths replyed  then hit me again.
The pain the agony my modeling carear.

Now with coverage from the World Series  heres Richard Shepard
Richard Can you here us.
The cam camera  cut  to a shot of a monkey masterbaiting in the Bronx zoo.

Yes the production team of Goldie and Joel M Frye
when not watching hot oil dwarf  varsity wrestling death match
there top notch.

Richard  dear lord man were on air it's no time for that now.
This isnt Chris's  bachelor party.
That isnt Richard you ****** Baths  spoke in that charming yet
Voice that told me if i didnt stop I might get a free *** change
voice of her's.

And it's not the world Series you half wit it's the Superbowl.
No  wonder  there was no mention of the stanley cup.
Baths what do you not know.
So after i mixed another wild turkey and put a mirror under
Paula's nose to make sure she was still breathing.
I told her  the roofies really help with the nerves.

Finally The artist formely known as Jack Horner   was live on the screen  from some cult meeeting it appeared.
*** they've captured Fergie.
Richard take it away.

Well these ***** keeping fighting over this ball.    
Runnin back  and ****** forth its driving me ****** bonkers.
Oh yeah amigo I these knickers ya asked for.
Richard held a pair of black *******  to the camera yeah
smell of  no talent  and overproduced songs.
dam you slash.

Back in the studio.
Ummm haha well i didnt ask him to steal anyones *******.
Paula broke the awkward silence i dont wanna go to school.
Paula you alright?
***** you John Travolta.

Ok well also at the world series of poker Jeremy Wyatt and he's got a special guest Taylor Swift.
Great god of the traveling  flying squirrell monkeys pants.
anything but her.

Screaming like a naughty little school girl with a  bad texting  habit
on a unlimted plan i dove underneath the news desk for it's better
die at the heels of Baths and a tap dancing kinda drugged Paula than   face a evil more sinister than Drew Dillegence or Ghandi  combined.

Jeremy was in the danger zone note even knowing it for beneath that
yummy little body layed the soul of satan  himself.

It was Nashvile  a few whiskey laced years ago  I was a drummer
for local sessions  she was 16 I.
well I wasnt.
you mix in some drugs s0me cars crashes knocking over a liquor store or two.  
That little hell cat had a thirst for danger  and some  lets just say
weird habbits   okay it was more like a curse.

Strange things happend to here past lovers.
John Mayer,  The gay cowboy from Broke Back Mountain  you know
that movie about the sinking ship, and that lesbian  from the Jonas Brothers.

Yes just as soon as she wrote a song you were good as dead.
You'd vanish to here secret torture chamber were her music played
non stop   and your blood was drained slowley so she could feed
her own talent or lack there of.

Jermy puzzled  hey Gonz you there Baths umm Paula ?
Underneath the saftey of are second hand news desk hey look gum.
huddled togather like three okay one drunk monkey and a passed out frat sister and a very ******* Baths please dont stab me im
fragile   like a aged bottle of good whiskey im just saying.

We gotta make a brake for it look Baths  you distract her im blowing this joint  like a long winded madman  on a five day binge
let loose on old country buffet.

Baths   spoke   in a  language  that was always a challenge  for me
called sanity.
Gonz if you dont let me out from under this desk.
Im going to rip your heart out and feed it to the  homless dwarfs.
And heres a napkin Paula's drooling on you.

I have a heart?

After a brief break.
And another check to make sure Paula was still breathing we
returned.
Dear lord where's Jeremy!

Screams could be herd Jesus Richard   it's no time for killing hookers
But 10 dollar beers  are a real kick in the ***.
Oh well Wyatts  gone he'll be missed.
this just in Taylor Swift to release her new single Why  Not  Jeremy!

Dear lord sweet sallys *** it was code she had taken him hostage
in the love of all things lady gaga  someone had to save my amigo.
except me  cause that ***** was crazy  and she's got a hell of a bite
im just saying  stay  strong   Jeremy  and think happy thought's

I could feel the ****** clamps and smell the burning flesh
from the car battery as we speak but enough  bout me and skeeters
personal life.

now its time for the weather with finally she's gotta mention Neva voice like a angel  Flores.
thanks Gonz that southern bombshell replyed okay in the south.

Alright Neva that was great  like i need to hear the weather.
I havent been outside in  seven years.

This just in Mr E  has been taken hostage in Cairo.
Well kids all i can say is as much as this hurts
we dont deal with terrorist  like we could raise a hundred bucks.

The bulletin came across the wire Raitch with a look of dont **** with me   Gonzo  although Pepples  thinks your okay in a ***** kinda pervert way.

All hells breaking loose  a all girls school for hot super models    
in trainng.
Baths  in shock and mock concern replyed oh dear lord.
I dont who has chops to cover such a story in short notice.
Raitch  Oh Baths I dont know either   ive herd  there ripping  each others clothes off   hair pulling its worse than a prison riot with
hot half naked strippers.

Baths kept speaking but in the name of chain gang women
i was lost deep in thought over ******* and world events
while downloading  pictures of Fergie eating a banana
what im a health nut okay.

Yeah I dont know who should go cover such a story right now hint.
Gonzo Baths and Ratich spoke like a tag team of terror hint!
Hey I should go shouldnt  I  ?

Yeah Gonz  ya think ?

With some ***** looks from the people who much like my family
wish id forget there names.
So they wouldnt have to join the witnness relocation program
i love it when they play hard to get.

Finally i was off the trusty Gonzo Report news van  waitting for me a bottle of wild turkey and some fine reading materials by that thinkers mag hustler waitting in the back.

There my amigos stood standing togather waving goodbye.
crying tears of joy hey is that a keg?
Chris on the turntables im beginnning to think it was a party.

But if Chris  was there just who was driving the Gonzo van!

The little dwarf laughed in glee as we flew threw town
like Charlie Sheen on a coke binge.
I was tossed around  like a beach ball at greatful dead concert
as finally   over the cliff the van flew.

There was a explosion that could be herd for at least a half a mile
course that was drowned out by the party.

The party was in full swing  finally Paula awoke.
Hey what the  hell happend and why is Trimman
******* my leg?

                                  
                                  Is Gonzo really Dead?  
    
    Will Jeremy Wyatt ever escape the *** dungeon of Taylor Swift.
                    
                        Will Richard Shepard ever put out a book
                        how kick lots of **** yet win the hearts of millions
                        and do a co write with lady GaGa and Mel Gibson?


                    Will Neva Flores  get ****** over her five second
                     mention hunt me down  and torture me for hours
                     im just saying  a girls got needs.


                    Will Paula Swanson  kick Trimman like a field goal
                                                    or just pass back out?

               Find out in the next action packed trillogy  called
                                          The Death Of Gonzo  

                       Untill  Next Time Stay Crazy Kids
Sorry for this long gonzo write my friends.
If i offend ya well if you dont wanna mention although this is done as a tribute  i understand  just let me know.

These are writes not poems but there ment to give ya a laugh
this isnt my most funny work  but hell one thing i'll never be i hope is boring  thanks for reading.

And if ya ever wonder if im this crazy in real life no way kids
im way worse cheers Gonzo
SmArTy Jan 2018
Es kadaake wali..thand me chai ki tarah bankar aajao na tum.
.
Sukhha sa pada hai mere dil ka registan ek baarish bankar aajao na tum
.
Nhi raha jaata es andhere wali Zindagi me,
Ek roshni ki kiran leke aajaao na tum.
.
Sab jaante  nhi hai mere dil ki raani **,
Ek baar aake bta jaao na tum
.
Dukh bad gye hai intzar me tumhaare.
Ek khushi banke dil me sama jaaao na tum.
.
Plzz plzZ plzZ
Meri lyf main aajao na tum.
.
.
.
#SmArTy...
Feelings
From this barstool i have sat waitting for some moment
of inspiration to come to me.
But the only thing that that comes to me is
a bartender with another drink.

And in empty reflection lost in a jukebox's song
played by a lonley heart shooting pool.
I cant recall where the spark went.
maybe it fell to floor like the ash from a cigarette.

the page waits at home like a wife waitting in worry as her husban is off doing God knows what.
So worried only wishing he'd return.
And when he does the fear fades and the anger kicks in.

The bottle doesnt hold a key but it does know me well.
I kiss it's fiery lips and cant resist it's charm.
so I sit with it passing hours in a dance that will end in
nothing but another wasted night  and a bitter morning taken
out apon my  mind.

In a swirl of hungover thoughts id leave half written pages.
To soon find themselves collecting with my ever growing arsenal  of
drunken rants.
All ending bitter and cold.

But when the whiskey hits I'll make such great plans
that will never be.  
I'll write that epic that will keep in the minds
other writers.
And in the warm arms of women who wanna love a
trainwreck just to say they've known what it's like.

Whiskey wishes are like sparks from a much larger fire.
the sparks fly off into the midnight sky.
only to fade befor are very eye.
No longer at desk the typewriter has been given
it's final rest.
As he cant recall the day or year.

The once strong mind is closed the body
but a museum or tribute to what once was.
he his home but locked within himself.

Vist's from thoose who once knew the man
are like people viewing a body at a wake.
he calls from within the shell for for release.

Yet his lips will not move his voice never sounds.
Inside he burns for the chance to run as the river
chases the sea.

To be the man they never knew and the one he
could admire and both despise.

The page sits in typewriter like a willing
eager lover in bed.
Waitting in stockings that cling to delicate thigh.
the tears escapes it's minds prison.

He thirsts for it like a drunk for that morning drink
of whiskey waitting hands held togather trying
to keep from shaking.

He sits as a painter without hand.
watching the most beautiful sunset fade without
a chance of ever capturing this moment.

The ink is drying he feels it everyday.
Soon he hopes like the dust that does gather
he will be swept away.
Unlike most the mail thats filled with  annoying **** like bills and DNA results this one  stood out  for some odd reason.
The name seemed familar  the invite was a wedding better known as a stand up funeral  a gathering of  hopeful women  and hung over men.

But what called to my eyes like a driver  parked at a catholic schoolgirl
cross walk  on a windy day was a true statement of sheer  beauty.
Open bar  gonzo  didnt know much but he knew he had a busted toaster   and a bruised liver and purpose a  of which I never  truley do understand.


This gathering was promising many women of which  had no idea  
I was a total ***  were here.
This crowd included many types
large small  young old   cross eyed   lazy eyed and even **** eyed
but no time for foreplay  children.

The bar was calling yet for some reason we had to sit through this
wedding ****  who the hell comes to  this stuff to watch  such sappy ****
the bride  walked down the isle  in white  face covered  dear lord
she couldnt be that ugly  hey wheres the  guy who sells  penuts and beers.

I sat for hours in agony  waitting to meet with my open
bar mistress  like some hot ****  women waiting behind a  
locked door so willing   calling to Gonzo.
come drink me  drink me hard  you drunk ******* im so wet
and refreshing get your minds outta the gutter.

When the man  who seemed to be the cult leader finally shut up the
groom finally pulled back  that veil thingy like a bad episode of ****** doo to reveal   the woman underneath it.
I was shocked to see a familar  face  hey i remember her
Kathy, Susan ,Rebecca,Something  yes when in doubt always shout
out every name you can think.
that way you appear either a total *****  or if your wearing a helmet
*******.

I had left mine at home selfish  ***** of a brother  just had to have it
Gonzo what if I fall down from a seisure ****** man duck tape a pillow to your head.

the ******* aside finally came a true moment of true brillance the bar   the bar where the **** was the bar!
Like a child being told santa wasnt coming this christmas
cause daddy  got busted selling drugs to the same undercover cop again
dad wasnt bright  something inside hurt deep as tears welled up from
my shallow heart.

then she appeared  Sara, Rabeca ,Susan,Eunice what did it matter really?
Gonzo are you hurt?
You know how much I care for you always.
Yeah  not enough to have a open bar Tabitha,Elieen ,Bathsheba,Drew,Elliot ****** woman whatever your name is.

Really you selfish woman  what do you think just   cause it's your wedding its all about you and this oversized bodybuilder   who appears
very unhappy dam you network tv for canceling american  gladiators

Like any true man would do faced  in the same situation.
I kissed the bride for old times sake  kicked the groom in the ***** and ran  for the boreder i'll miss you Susan,Kat,Jessica ****** woman whatever your name is.

As i sit at the pub deep in reflection as jack ask's me  so what will
you miss about her  the most you crazy ******* a chicken tucked under his arm  but I seldom  cared  to meet his new girlfriends.

Yes after deep thought and many wild turkeys.
It finally came to me ya know jack it's probaly  the free ***.
yes i was gonnna miss   Rabecca,Susan,Samantha,Kat, Beth,Baths,
Becky,Tarzan,Eunice,Cheeta, Taylor,Elivis,Ladyy Ga Ga whats here name  cheers to ya darlin.

Love John, Elliot ,Chris,Jack,Gary,My Chemicle Imbalance,Obama,
Bob, JD,Drew ,Goldie,whatever the hell my name is.    

Stay Crazy Gonzo
Dedicated to a friend of mine thats getting married
she always said  gonzo why dont ya write about me?
well be careful what ya ask for.

Cheers and good luck my friend
Unlike most the mail thats filled with  annoying **** like bills and DNA results this one  stood out  for some odd reason.
The name seemed familar  the invite was a wedding better known as a stand up funeral  a gathering of  hopeful women  and hung over men.

But what called to my eyes like a driver  parked at a catholic schoolgirl
cross walk  on a windy day was a true statement of sheer  beauty.
Open bar  gonzo  didnt know much but he knew he had a busted toaster   and a bruised liver and purpose a  of which I never  truley do understand.


This gathering was promising many women of which  had no idea  
I was a total ***  were here.
This crowd included many types
large small  young old   cross eyed   lazy eyed and even **** eyed
but no time for foreplay  children.

The bar was calling yet for some reason we had to sit through this
wedding ****  who the hell comes to  this stuff to watch  such sappy ****
the bride  walked down the isle  in white  face covered  dear lord
she couldnt be that ugly  hey wheres the  guy who sells  penuts and beers.

I sat for hours in agony  waitting to meet with my open
bar mistress  like some hot ****  women waiting behind a  
locked door so willing   calling to Gonzo.
come drink me  drink me hard  you drunk ******* im so wet
and refreshing get your minds outta the gutter.

When the man  who seemed to be the cult leader finally shut up the
groom finally pulled back  that veil thingy like a bad episode of ****** doo to reveal   the woman underneath it.
I was shocked to see a familar  face  hey i remember her
Kathy, Susan ,Rebecca,Something  yes when in doubt always shout
out every name you can think.
that way you appear either a total *****  or if your wearing a helmet
*******.

I had left mine at home selfish  ***** of a brother  just had to have it
Gonzo what if I fall down from a seisure ****** man duck tape a pillow to your head.

the ******* aside finally came a true moment of true brillance the bar   the bar where the **** was the bar!
Like a child being told santa wasnt coming this christmas
cause daddy  got busted selling drugs to the same undercover cop again
dad wasnt bright  something inside hurt deep as tears welled up from
my shallow heart.

then she appeared  Sara, Rabeca ,Susan,Eunice what did it matter really?
Gonzo are you hurt?
You know how much I care for you always.
Yeah  not enough to have a open bar Tabitha,Elieen ,Bathsheba,Drew,Elliot ****** woman whatever your name is.

Really you selfish woman  what do you think just   cause it's your wedding its all about you and this oversized bodybuilder   who appears
very unhappy dam you network tv for canceling american  gladiators

Like any true man would do faced  in the same situation.
I kissed the bride for old times sake  kicked the groom in the ***** and ran  for the boreder i'll miss you Susan,Kat,Jessica ****** woman whatever your name is.

As i sit at the pub deep in reflection as jack ask's me  so what will
you miss about her  the most you crazy ******* a chicken tucked under his arm  but I seldom  cared  to meet his new girlfriends.

Yes after deep thought and many wild turkeys.
It finally came to me ya know jack it's probaly  the free ***.
yes i was gonnna miss   Rabecca,Susan,Samantha,Kat, Beth,Baths,
Becky,Tarzan,Eunice,Cheeta, Taylor,Elivis,Ladyy Ga Ga whats here name  cheers to ya darlin.

Love John, Elliot ,Chris,Jack,Gary,My Chemicle Imbalance,Obama,
Bob, JD,Drew ,Goldie,whatever the hell my name is.    

Stay Crazy Gonzo
Dedicated to a friend of mine thats getting married
she always said  gonzo why dont ya write about me?
well be careful what ya ask for.

Cheers and good luck my friend
Wuji Nov 2012
Controlled with words,
Leashed to some stranger.
Third wheels so expendable,
Away from it all in the back.
Staring into the streetlights,
The thoughts run past the open trunk.

Who knows what you did to me,
To make me lose all hope.
Yes it's a sad ******* poem,
No it doesn't rhyme.
I'm listening to mellow music,
In the back,
Of my car.
Waitting to leave this parking lot.

Just leave my life and stay away,
Can't play this confusing game.
I've got everything to lose,
And only one thing to gain,
I know I will misplace it,
**** all this pain.

I pretray a man of excellence,
But I just am I boy waitting in the rain.

I should be done.
But I'm not...
It was  at the crack of the afternoon always  when like some old circus bear i staggred to life.
Coffee surged through my veins with a touch of turkey to embrace the day to day troubles
with a sense of reason in the insanity.

The whispers were heavy like gunshot's that filled a early morning duck hunt.
Where half drunk men shared bottles and stories of conquest's some false others just straight *******.
He's losing it ya know?

They had read my scrbblings and saw the flaws yet dared never to speak the words to
the devil in the flesh.
But much like a villan or a dam good ****** with a std i was just waitting to
run yet again.

The Gonzo of old died hard and a writer of insanity
seldom was at a loss for words or  far from a intersection of trouble.
The road called.
And I her slave seldom ignored her for any woman worth her salt
was a cruel ***** at heart and thats what made them  so dam aluering.


I was the president of debauchrey the chairman of the boy's club
a locker room jester who seldom showed his flaws.
But time scars us all and I was no diffrent.

I had slowed yet went past that edge like a child who tears into a gift seldom
looking at the paper let alone who its from.
Still that gleam in the eye did exist and the danger was all but to real.

I was ready to claim it back although none could take it from me.
The bike was older yet still had a howl like a devils hound on a sunsets promise.
the drugs the ***** the women all where but part of the drive and freedom
of a perk.

Much like the whiskey that burns in my veins id never
water down my word's
Cold wether was pointing me south  the Key's were calling
in a tragic Hemmingway sense the old man's sea was but a bitter pill
and a islands stream of erased thought.

On a road that never grew old as I.
  Soon i was off.
And God only knows what would lead to this tour of destruction.
But all i can say is gentlemen start your engines.

For the chaos has just begun.

                                               Welcome  To The Boy's Club
                                                             Part One
I am a writer at heart and poet by nature and a force of insanity by the grace of
God or maybe a padded hand ina devils poker game.
But either way my words always hold there own.
Shade Pines  Mental Vacillty.

The room was packed the press ravenous  waitting for the return of the madman of the place in which we cannot speak of.

How could it be were the rumour's true shock treatments torture had Gonzo finally sliped over the deep end?
The press was dead silent as he was walked into the room
but the man in front of them looked nothing like the man they once knew  no wild turkey in front of him no sunglasses even worse no bloodshot eye's

The person that we cannot speak of spoke in the high almost like a cross between Brittney spears and Borat  accent.
To which the press all laughed yet the person that we could not speak of did not get the joke as usal.
Cause he was a word we cannot say.

I pressent to you my friends the new and improved Gonzo.
Now I shall let the man himself speak.
The man who resembled gonzo drooled slightly leaned into the mic
Hello im Gonzo.

And after a bit of a awkward  pause like when a alter boy cuts a **** they realized that was pretty much it for his deep speech.
The press astounded finally came to life like a seventy year old man who found a secret stash of ******.

Gonzo is this a joke ?   Gonzo wanna drink hey what about a ***** joke?
Im fine thank you im so happy to be here and be in your company
And I no longer drink well just water that is.

And may I say im so happy to be a changed man  no bad jokes from me.
Nope just good wholesome fun no ***** words well I gotta go to my bible study folks it sure was nice to talk to you all.

The press werent buying it the one female repoter stood befor the shell
of a man  and must have had a fashion mishap cause some buttons were missing from her top.

Um you sure you wanna leave?
Well miss im really sorry but I gotta be there on time there having cookies today.

And we gotta go over plans for the bakesale  and you really need to fix your top miss cause your gonna catch a cold.
The woman stunned felt as if she had spoken to a alien just what had they done to the man once known as Gonzo.

And had they really lost the madman to this bizzar strange human who now did reside in his body.
Was it the end of ******* and wild turkey?
Would Sanity set in and leave things as fun a watching paint dry?

Would ***** jokes and madness be lost forever.
Tune in next week kids to read the next spine tingling chapter
in this drawn out weirdness known as the new Gonzo.
Shucks  I hope  this okay.
And you all have a great day you gotta great day for it.
And always look both ways befor crossing the street.

And dont drink and drive or have *** befor marriage.
Or say ***** words cause thats just wrong.
Well im off to play with some kittens bye everyone.

Yippie New Gonzo
Undearneath overcast skies i stand alone to see none that once stood here before.
Faces I'd come to know and respect now ghosts burried by some who never viewed us at all.
In laughter we find truths of understanding that still cuts deep from wounds shall we stop the bleed?

I read words whom I once new as friends comfort is a mistress ive never taken grasp of.
A stranger in full view but unlike others I refuse to take my place amoungsnt the dead you decived.
Cowards turn there heads.
I stare into rejection straight as a arrow burnt on route towards the sun.

******* is for thoose whom belive themselfs better.
A sunset holds that emotion I was called compassion now ice does embrace my regret.
It's always in there eyes you see.
A well ment *** kisser is but a snake in the garden always waitting for a chance to strike.
When I view what its become I see nothing more than barren fields of once rich earth.

Mocking tone's seldom bite harder than silent thoughts.
Maybe they'll speak of me in shadow what they cant bare to view in light.
The bottel's hold was a vice a friends turn but a dream cast over a nightmare's decline.
***** them if they cant speak there minds.

Anyone can back down to fools with soft words and even weaker minds.
I still taste the bitter words like sand from the storm.
The fool is many things but seldom your pawn.

Ive just come here to view the headstones of a ****** up past.

Maybe I'll fade but never to anothers mush mouthed glee my words a venom
no rattle snake dare to match.
There's no friends in war and this false disney land reeks of ***** and cotton candy.


I'll take my place when they bury me alive for not everyones spine is made of paper.
***** the cowards for least the dead tried!
Rage is my thirst and no longer will I let you walk over
this grave without a fight.

The happy image is but a poisen pen a ******* up reallity in a ******* game I refuse to play.
Mock me to my face for i could care less.
For the thoughts of a coward are but rat dropping left only to decay and be forgotten.

Least the tombstones mark thoose who forever gave voice to what  a politician can never grasp.
When i close my eyes finale at least I rest my thoughts knowing who I truely am.
Enough said!
After stage exist do i leave a true self behind?
As the act has taken hold of my existance I view only one out.
With the dust.
Will hidden message be reveled my madness never was there a more true
poisen to pen than vice thats nothing more than the man.


Cheap motel's road trips have taken there toll as ive taken more from thoose with which ive shared a
sin laced night.
Im fine I swear.
And  even togather I assure you im alone.

Start out slow just to burn out fast.
Empty the glass washed down pills and forgotten conversations
the jokes a cruel subject may I be your life's teacher?

Emptyness Inc. hollow my hall's least  it's better than some
self righteous fool who has been left to preach.

A cheap **** and a firm shake.
You cant run with wolves and stay the lamb.
Uppers to wake ***** to slow and coke to understand its somehow it's gotta end.

Im sorry next time i'll call only to show the sadist within.
Pray they cant view the sweats man he truely lives his act or is his addictions living as what
he once knew to be him?

Moments I breath only to sink underneath waters drowned are my demons
care to hear there thoughts clear?

A angry voice lives behind vice can i calm this storm how can I grant safe passage?
When I cant even stand in the slightest wind?
Another night and still they ignore it because they hate to comfront for fear they'd taste the razor of tongue and face vice's all there own.

Art in any form should never be safe.

Hello she answers waitting for the line within mind
she know's will probaly sooner than later be read.
I cant say something I can never feel.

Remorse is great for hero's.
Im happy to be your villan.

Another town it's always a old scene.
Were the ****** up circus come to fuel a always burning ego driven fire.
A hot night a devil's pornagraphic scene.

What the dust leaves no true care of a honest ******* I fear none but myself.
Nights move  like a forgotten  ghost unwanted by all.    
A vision  unseen to all but one.

Down damp streets he haunts the same path every night just befor the dawn.
The empty hearts gather to drown togther in the sea.

Togther feeling so very alone.
Can we cast shadows in the darkness project happiness in such gloom to return the   same old haunts again and again.
A wheel  rolling  without question.
On into the emptyness of my night.

Waitting for a return that  never will be.
Cursing the problem never understanding it was her and me.
As the dream turn to the drunk.

The painter paints no longer sunsets but
Nights and his thoughts of blue to gray.

Warmth in the darker corners gives a view to
the young and  the still hopefull.
Tiping my half empty glass I wish them to never know pain.

Finding a home with other empty hearts caught.
In ***** sheets im haunted by the ghost of my
former self.

A puddle stepped in cast waves of reflected neon light.
As we play a roll unknown to all  
At typewritter  I sit.
Listening to To the bar and bottles clatter men and women's
laughter and soon forgotten fight.
Yerning to be free so is the emptyness of my night.
The cards have been played jokers once wild were part of a strangers fate.
The sudden ends promise seemed a fitting end to a sad play.
As in love were pawns to a changing emotion as restless as
the wind that blows off the sea.

Monster's my dear exist even within me.
Addiction has taken passion I can no longer love as in the page.
Suicide take's the person as in thoughts i'll blur the image.

I'll write the end only to erase my past.
Will they understand?
My solution was a bitter end and a finale  and retreat.

Anger doesnt understand the endless rage.
Empty thoughts from the shallow page.
Ive seen it clear apon a night cast with my demons fog.

The edge is past reallity will splatter me in a lifeless pile.
Madness greet's the creative mind.
As sanity clings like a mother to
her son waitting for the war.

Ive long over stayed my welcome now I embrace
the finale chapter.
The candle's flame was ment only to consume.
The moths will second to it's nature.

A burst of flame then a slow fade into the ash apon the floor.
Empty eyes of a child hearts never  stay broken.
We understood the play as traggic befor the closing act.

laughter my card a gift ive left in your heart.
Erased from sight I question the desire.
The edge wasnt there untill it was past.
Seems some were never ment to last.
Sometimes we cant
The page laughing at me the canvas cold and blank.
Winter filled room in the middle of june.
Why had my heart run a ground on such jagged shores.

Now I scavage for remains of my soul.
ragged I wonder would anyone remember me apon my return.
Would she stand smile apon face and regret in heart.

The page stayed empty for a reason.
They were all gone the great titles along with there writers.

Me the fool brave or foolish enough to  attempt the
impossible  with little to show for it.
A broken relationship and some bad tattoos  in
some  weird places.

To be stuck down in a  hollow .
Is fine  with suplies low and the truth a sober mind brings
time was ticking the false deadline was apon me.
And like a kid trying to cram in every answer on a school test.
I was stuggling  waitting for the teacher to say times up.

Hands shaking from the need throat dry  and a headache
that would last for a week.
Why had it always come to this  isolation.

Maybe it was the roads way of calling me back.
Like a lover calling me back to bed.
To entangle untill the mornings light.

Yet just like a passionet affair the struggle for the title
kept me trapped to this place for nights on end.
You cant grasp what is never yours its
like trying to see that sweet southern breeze.

Everytime you find  one with which your heart agree's
You find the titles taken.
life and love will always  bring you to your knees.


This is taken from what will be my first book
once through many long gin soaked nights is finally at it's final stages
and thank God cause it's been hell.
as of  now the title will be The Road Begins ?
Hell my friends if you can think of a better title to describe my writting feel free  to let me know   Always your slightly crazy  friend John Patrick Robbins
Clive Winslow Feb 2011
Beneath the earth in tomb I lay trapped in night.
I hear the voices speaking yet cannot reply.
They mourn my death yet no not my living hell.

As I struggle to scream no words can I release.
I hear the words dust to dust yet I am alive.
I here the coffin begin its final journey into
its bed of earth.

And as I am erased from memory I am
slowley buired alive.
No one to hear.  Unable to move  I am but trapped within a shell
and burried within this cacoon of sering heat.

The air growing thin every breath burns my lungs.
Why can I not speak  why must I suffer?
I strain but no words do escape my throat.

In darkness I lay waitting wishing to slip into a final
rest to escape my burning torment.
Strangled slowley in the devils arms.

Death a promise yet a far off nightmare
from this hell in which I exist.
Blind in life and bound in death.

A tear escapes my eye leaving a trail down my cheek.
The last water i shall know of heat and salt.
My last vision of darkness and the emptyness
from which there is no escape.

I pray to at last embrace the words.                        
And understand the true meaning of.
                              Goodbye!
Maybe it was the city's lights that took your
eyes from mine and lead you astray.
memories made in rythm with the citys traffic.
empty barooms waitting to create tales of another day.

Hands held tightly still can slip from anyones grasp.
Hearts filled with passion change without notice.
Old locket loves are bound by rusted clasp.

A walk to togather is so much better than one alone.
Attached by more than words.
Dim lit streets and a sometimes working pay phone.

City your cruel and unforgiving to all.
Cold as a park bench for a bed.
Tugs haunt the water over the sea's wall.

Cheap wine fire from the barrel.
The city reflects a vision of wicked carol.

So does the sun bid farewell to the day.
As the poets take to pen.
I reflect apon the citys lights that lead
your eyes astray
It sit's there apon the bar mocking me a clown in a insane circus of
never ending torment.
The music a backdrop to the madmans bluff.
Closing time never stops the want only speeds up my fire to consume.

Maybe it's time to slow down many say but when your breaks never were installed a crash is always certain.
**** it!
It's my vice and least mine arent hidden like thoose of others even through bloodshot eye's
I view just as clear as any other.
My hero's were all monsters to there own ego.
And when you belive your own ******* your as washed up as a name
painted on a wall left to fade.

Everyone gets passed by sometime.
But if this were a game I wasnt hitting them outta the park anymore and riding the bench
wasnt my style.

None had the nerve to stand up to me for even in madness my wit cut like a razor to a dull sense.
I kicked what was left back ordered another yes she was waitting.
And like a well trained dog for months I had swallowed my true voice to speak her lines
but ******* in breath is worse than a lie at heart.

Tonight i'd  cast it aside the fire in the glass didnt give me courage it only softend the blow.
I never needed a crutch to call a backbone my words stood for me and i lived them.
Tonight i wouldnt be that person silent meek or  drifting in the dellusion called love.

The bar keep gazed at me as a friend.
**** if not for that weak bridge of brotherhood id been cut off
hours ago.
I was at that point of rage and fury that made little noise just like a dragon the fire simpley
cast smoke in a dim lit world and shame on the fool who tested me tonight.

Trouble was a long lost friend that never ventured far when it comes to my thoughts.
My thoughts were blank and my world was at the point of change.
But no direction was always my role in the play.

Tonight i'd cast the first stone and destroy the mountain as well **** the view.
Give me space!
Emptyness is many things but a blank page is seldom a call for help.

As night met my warmed blood and cold heart I found solice as always in my own
thoughts some people need emptyness and isolation is but a sister to happiness.
I could always find a crowd when in need of shared thoughts and a simple laugh.

Tonight I wasnt empty for if i a flask in this thought known as life.
I was just half full.

Sometimes  you have to erase the landscape to see clear.
Change is something better left in pocket as tonight I did drown in a half empty
thought.
Paul Hardwick Apr 2015
When I met you
you where all I had
I told myself
Thak you Lord
but inspit of of my self
I fell in love with you
just outside there waitting
just out the circle
it was hard to say
witch way were you looking
was it me
you did feel
hold your breath
then fall
Just outside waitting
I don't know who
Lick the inside of my leg.
True story  P@ul.
I think at early age i saw the truth and its harsh light.
The dreamer was a sweet idea  the  reallity  a cold *******.
The poets to weak often found comfort in there vices.

The  washed up often found a finale page in there brains being splattred  across the room.
And the wise often found themselves wanting foolish
things.

Love it was a word often used and seldom felt.
It was that  fix down  Church street   it was a score for a moment a regret at best.

Love i hate it's existance it was the mirage that I saw in a cool nights fog
It called me once and killed me slowley one bad choice at a time.

Im not saying the young couple in passion is a time bomb  waitting to
turn into a  disaster at any second.
Im just saying it wouldnt catch me in it's aftermath.

The washed up thought it made them immortal.
The dreamers thought of it as air.
And the wise were to busy avoiding it at all cost's.

But the broken saw it as paper sailboat  caught in a storms drain.
I remeber her well.
In the end no matter what kind of  ******* you try to be.
We all hurt the same.
And pain washes regret in a pool of mistrust .
We all bleed in thought.
Paul Hardwick Jun 2015
Your safe and warm
got a brake from the storm
and visiting time seams like the past
and you just reched the part
where your losing  spirit leave you heart fast
and this giant of darkness surrounds you
it a long way to dawn
and your shivering to hide
so you wait for the sun
just to known a new day is began
but today you feel of glass
sitting on a shelf that you know will fall down
waitting to drop.
Not sure where this came from
maybe watch my mother die
but true story          P@ul.

One day you will understand.
María Mar 2013
He felt so small and insignificant.
He had hardly any wight and he was quite small.
Something was changing.
He opened his eyes and saw the light.
People around him where whispering.
They were waitting for his next movement.
Suddenly someone hit him.
He felt like crying and tears started rolling.
He was just born.

— The End —