When my time is done and I am finally laid to rest
I don’t want to be recalled as one who lived life depressed
So as I wrote my will, I chose to leave an instruction
That laughing gas be inhaled by all those at the function
No mournful eulogies will a pastor have to invent
For my funeral will be held under a circus tent
When dozens of clowns emerge from the tiny Volkswagen
Reams of my silly limericks Bozo will be dragin’
And as they’re read aloud, family and friends who knew me best
Will say, “She had a sense of humor, this we can attest.”
Mimes will mimic me trying to write the world’s best novel
As my corpse hangs from the trapeze, surely they will marvel
Laughter will ensue as they shoot me from the cannon
Flying high in my demise across the great Grand Canyon
All the children will smile and there’ll be no tears allowed
So no one will ever remember me as a “dark cloud”
There are people who seem to take life way too seriously
When I meet my Maker, don’t view this as a tragedy
Dad called me his “happy girl,” so let me go out that way
I want to leave them laughing as I reach my judgment day
Entry for Sidney Lee Ann's "All About You" contest
While a man was golfing in Fife
a funeral cortege was arife,
his head bowed in prayer
at this somber affair
to pay last respects to his wife!
"Each experience is locked within my heart and only I hold the key..."
Please do not edit the quote , or add anything to it, use as given.
It can be the first line of your poem if that is what you want
FAMILIARITY GROWN STRANGE, COMFORTS NAUSEATED.
CARRESSING HANDS CAUSING SHUDDERS WITH
THEIR CLAMMY COLD TOUCH.
PASSION PAUSES IN YOUR AVERTED EYES,
WHILE YOUR LIPS PRETEND TO SAY OTHERWISE.
THIS EMOTIONAL HAULOCOST
CAUSING MY ARMEGEDDON.
IF ONLY MY HISTORY,
IS TO REMAIN, RATHER
THAN REMAIN THE MOMENTS,
OF MY PRESENT REPEATING THE,
SAME SONGS OF SORROW.
METHOIC MEMORIES HYPNOTIZING EXISTENCE,
OBSERVING OTHERS ALLOWING DISTANCE.
BETWEEN SELF AND SENSE,
SEARCHING, THRU CROWDS OF CONFLICTS,
WITH THE OCEANS OF EYES IN THE HORIZON DROWNING,
IN THE SEA OF LIFE.
They tried to make you go to Rehab...
Shoulda' packed your bags ta' Rehab...
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Here lies a man who had no name.
There was a funeral; Nobody came.
No one cried, and None was blamed
Only three men attended; what a shame.
He was a great doctor,
A pretty swell friend,
An intelligent person...
Except at the end.
The Contest for my Heart
Ah yes, a one time event
Black widows, black roses, red blood flows
Capture my heart
With your affections or the carving knife
Cut and bleed me as you wish
Shower me with your passions
I shall drink to the butchers dream
Of dinner severed for two
Or me served on a plate to you
The table clothe is romantically red
Our love affair left me ending up dead
On my tomb the flowers bloom
The epitaph cryptic under the moon
Here lies a man without a heart
I had the candle
I had the wine
She had the bitchers knife
She committed the crime
I may be buried in the cemetery of the forgotten
However my heart remains ice cold
It’s still in her fridge
A crowded table, all suspended in shock
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?
Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?
They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?
Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman
SANTA KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY!
I asked for strength for the journey
But its in the journey I find the strength
I hear lost souls cry out
These are more than just words that I think
Yeah I'm on the brink of disaster
Lady Luck I'll come by and see you later
But at this time I'm ending the game I only got like ten minutes
But actually I'm running five minutes late
Yeah! its kinda like my life story
Yep, the red foe is crushed now
Sure, I'm just like lightning that is struck down
Like the beginning of wisdom, is to distinguish the differences
I face my fears, I continue in the face of resistance
Because the path of least resistance is what makes both men and rivers crooked
If I have another hearing the judge will throw the book at me
And last night, Oh my GOD why did you forsake me
I got on my knees and prayed for guidance through this darkness
I went back to where it started: and I walked away, took away the threat and became the target
Of course I'm more than just a product of my environment
I'm entirely> Aware that there are 2 kinds of conspiracy
The conspiracy of the government and the conspiracy of the devil
My soul is here just to show you, you must dig deeper inside yourself
I've reached way past the point where it seems hopeless
Every door in Sweetwater is closed to me
So I close the door to hell and open the door to heaven
It was God who said everything my hand touched would prosper
And my hand has touched this keyboard
And my voice is just screaming out to touch that microphone
"Get your microphone and make it pretty; Put a skull around it for this city"
Here lies the Rock Climber,
Who climbed up ol' Mt. Everest
And then let go.
“Coffins. Who’d of thought it? Catalogues for coffins. And the speed and efficient nature of funerals in general. I mean I know we’ve been doing them for years, but we’re very good at it aren’t we?”
“No, but really the whole thing has just been one task after the other, call the funeral home, call the hospital, call the crematorium, call the family, call the papers, call the lawyers.” She paused, “I’d half-forgotten someone had died!”
“And the things that always seemed like jokes – he always said he thought he should hedge his bets with the man upstairs just in case the religious folks got it right, but was that serious?”
“And the funeral director, oh the funeral director trying to tactfully ask if he was a fat man, by asking if we needed one urn or two.”
“I mean the whole thing is just too funny.”
At the funeral everyone cried.
I feel as though time is slipping away,
And more is gone each passing day…
He flung his arms in amusing laugh,
At the passing funeral bier,
Beside the herd of lily blossoms--
This stout little man, in his full air:
''What say...'', he asks with a chortle,
''And thus of laughter this man dies!?''--
Gave another big guffaw--
Tears filling his beady eyes.
The birds chirped, and the dogs--
They followed-up rather slow;
The deceased was laid in his cask,
With mourning women, crying low..
He mused a moment at the sight he saw,
Then burst-up in a loud 'Hee-haw'!
''Forgive me, but it's hard to take''.
(His belly danced, as he spake)
Slightly flushed,''now'', said he,
''I choke of laughter, do you see??
Tell me will I be dead next.....''
Then stopped to take a deepest gasp
With some force, and a wasp
Was sucked into that mouth and he
Agonized with pain, stifled and red,
Next we know, lay there dead.....
She chose a red scarf. The most red
of them all.
Of a dark red, a sweet and thick red color,
just as wine.
She carved from the red scarf
from the middle
to the size of a Martini glass.
Then she carved one more glass,
and she kept carving
till she fell asleep.
she saw her Beloved Moth
flirting with a Younger Moth,
carving together from a sweater
while she was getting busy,
carving in the shelves.
The Unhappy Moth drank lots of wine
She drank lots, too much
for a Moth.
The Unhappy Moth got drunk
and fell asleep
on the red scarf,
with a heart filled with peace.
She was not afraid no more.
Now she could be seen easily,
laying on the scarf
and easily crushed.
The Unhappy Moth was not
afraid of death no more,
at least, now she knew
how wonderful the red scarfs are
and that they taste
like red wine.
Henrietta just a pet chicken
Loves attention and holding
torments the jealous dog by tapping on the door
Plays dead like a duck once tooo often
Doggie thinks KFC....yum
Henrietta taking a dirt nap under a pine tree.
tears and sorrow!!
1908-1934 Not taken soon enough! Not only the good die young.
For Epigram Contest
By: Richard Lamoureux
At odds about the undertakers fees, Mark Twain jeered:
“There is a system of extortion going on here!”
What horrific prices to pay for just a box and hole
When it's not the body we care about, but the soul!
This clerihew is derrived from reading Mark Twains views on burying the dead. His only quotation is the second line. ( Mark Twain and the Carson City Undertaker) - February 1864
Sandra Hudson, 1/18/2012
People planters find it hard to tear
at the loss of your near and dear
At two hundred percent profits
Devastation gives them fat pockets
Diggers open up the ground
Where people sprouts can be found....
Sprouts or people dust....it is hard to know!?
She wolf of the poetic world who run
and struggle to maintain her dignity
Our words, our dreams are falling to pieces
By, the predators of this time period
We are the prey for the fearful ones
Who scrolls and display rude comments?
Deep within as you lament over our poems
we rise up stronger than ever
Composing rhyme, lyric and prose
Unlike your hatred about likes and dislikes
Narrative poems portrays the truth
We shine, we meddled, and somehow, we win
We are stronger; death with dignity is a poet emblems
Pieces of our past anthology anguish you
Your Savage behavior bites you each time;
We compose; you pursue
We are the death of your souls
Mr. Sleepless White Nights
Your predators, you editors
Are you addicted to your inner critic
We have our rights
You confounded wretch night stalkers.
Lady bug lady bug it is fun to play and look at you,
you seem to increase in size whenever we live in some place new,
you hide in my toy, you hide in my closet
what am I am going to do with you?
Lady bug lady bug look at you, when I turn on the lights
you run with your friends and fly away too.
Lady bug Lady Bug
I am getting tired of you, you run and
alluding me in to my shoes, even when I am over you,
eating my food, you look and seem
you want me to bless you to.
Lady bug lady bug I am not having fun with you,
I am getting my mom and dad to get the
exterminator to get with you and your crew.
This poem is about a five years old kid who never saw North and
South American cockroach in his young life.
Poetry 11/26/10 by Keith K. Relf
The Grace To Grow
Through peril in its intact
We have every reason by which to over react
The Grace to grow;
Many a shoulder to cry inflate the ego
Through our hard stance with fate
We lock our doors & protect out faith
In long lines at the store lest I emplore
Shades of trim left for me to begin
In oscillating ivory towers a man from Mars
The Grace to grow
From a little seed next the full grain blown to harvest once again
We can plant a seed deep enough through troubled waters come among
Shades of gems crimsome with rubbies
The cedar as a way of illumination
Perhaps I'm in need of a break on some long awaited vacation?
The Grace to grow
A funny little clown, a bright red nose.
Lots of make-up, and bright blue bows.
Children laughing, some fat and some thin.
Either dressed in new clothes or rags that are faded and dim.
Pretty white ponies with beautiful glittery saddles.
And again, those funny clowns are hitting eachother with paddles.
One clown keeps fallimg and pretending to cry.
The other is daydreaming and lets out a big sigh.
There are beautiful ladies whose costumes are rare.
And a man who scares the children by dressing up as a bear.
Fantasizing is a convienient thing, it keeps the shock low.
So the surprise about the real world won't be such a big blow.
"Surprised about what"? is what you ask next.
Its something you can't learn in a text.
You'll learn about life by the things you go through.
You'll learn about whats fake and about what is true.
You'll see that the clowns are still funny and have a red nose.
But then you'll see realize only money buys the ladies rare clothes.
That's also when you realize your clothes are faded and dim.
And you recognize how many times you've been beaten by him.
Yes, those clowns with paddles are at it again.
Funny. They are married and they're children number ten.
Thier children are scared and crying in bed.
Because thier big mean daddy made thier sweet mommy dead.
I do not know?
I RUN from FEAR.
I HUNT for FEAR.
I HIDE in FEAR.
I FIGHT cause of FEAR.
I'm FAR from you.
I'm SCARED cause of you.
You're the FEAR that I HUNT.
You're the FEAR that I FIGHT.
You're the FEAR that SCARED me for LIFE.
*Comment if you have any thought and if you like it. oh and some of the poems i write arn't
always my feelings. their some times just to get through other people so they can have
something to read that just fit's them.*
THE INVISIBLE BAN
I’ve known so many men who’ve left and I prayed they’d never come back
And then there is this one dude who left the North and traveled down south
He carried his meager belongs in a bag akin to Santa’s Xmas sack
He’s a dude who has never learned to shut his foolish mouth
He thinks himself wise yet he’s nothing but a fool
So he stands on a corner begging people’s ear
He uses his mouth as a rusted and useless tool
For he has nothing to say which people want to hear
They’ve heard the same things in a thousand different ways
Like Chicken Little and his assertion that the sky will fall
He begs the people to look up for he is a pious man who devoutly prays
Yet all of these people are wise enough to ignore his call
He’s got big ideas, a big mouth and won’t keep quiet on a bet
No one likes him as they try to avoid what they hear and see
He thinks himself so smart yet he has trouble with the alphabet
And I know he’s ignorant because that man is me
© 2011.…..Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Here lies Bea At a hundred and three
In the place she vowed She’d never be
She always swore She’d never die
Till all who bugged her
In the grave would lie
She hung on tight To the very end
No foe was left For flowers to send
Let’s raise a glass And shed a tear
She sure raised hell while she was here!
Copyright©2004 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved
Front and Center!
Those Gates adorned with pearls in Heaven.
White angels soaring.
If by chance,
Ordered to enter;
Through St. Peter's Permission;
I demand from you chancellor;
A swift insanity plea, submission.
For this troubled soul is plagued,
By vast displays of wicked ways.
Courtesy of meticulous examination.
Diligence pending Investigation.
Key Evidence, perpetually documented
In Sin's ominous catalog.
Rebuke my Judge!
For multitudes of shortcomings,
He failed to ascertain.
Moreover, present was He,
When Satan drafted me.
His Fantasy League...
"The Eternal Infernos of Pain"
Directing from my open casket
I commanded all the choir
To sing a holy hallelujah
To get the congregation crying
Shades of pine grafted in again resign
Shattered pine in elm certain grove alone
My meadow had a thorn certain credit
The factual harm of its heartless swarm
Featured within in the created design with pine
Eyes sharpened as a willow in garb
The tornado sequence has even the fog alone
Again tempors fly like never before
Blatant lies have come at no surprise
In parts unknown an aura of repute to harm
Sound the alarm in fetters arm
Choirs of saints in regard to its beckoning drawn
Empire strain inside my brain fragments of cure
The surface of the sun has tainted my vision with harm
Sound the alarm agiain my faithful friend by whom we can depend
Shattered glass on the parchment floor
An impulse deep in regards to the heart
Shades of pine will line the volume of scattered pillows
A willow in derision you made a final decision
A thought provokoing reason to believe in
Shattered memory's in the moments of innocence with a plight of disbelief
We have soon turned over a brand new leaf
Timeless peaks in a swelll shattered fragments from within
A great design still sublime in its timeless parts the heart
Jim Morrison had it
Janis Joplin couldn't stop it
Jimi Hendrix sought this quick fix
An unbellievable call being caught in the mix!
One frown is lost
At what cost now
Jack Frost has died
Sense Lucifer took the fall
We stood amazed at his no it all
In fashion abode in vice with sip
Having long viscous fangs that bite & grip,
In twilight through a darkened portal
We lie beneath the sentence waiting at deaths final door
The devil's children no it all
Their claim to fame is power & control
Yet not willing to ever share with others in need
They all long to watch as you bleed
With a sentence of death at Hell
Blackened silence filtered with flames of out of control vomit
Isolation is its chief aim & total surrender to their name
A chief aim to kill, steal & destroy
As Sodom's beckoning call hence the swift devastation to its call
The devil's children will forever burn
In heat of passion with swift shift & turn
A liars nightmare in the paradise of pain
Shattered hauntings is its chief aim
Abortions on demand ever stick it to the man
It is my hope that someday we will all live to understand,
As a caged rat that was hidden in a tiny hole
Devastation & bloody death grip hold
As road kill is set a shield in torment
Watch out !
I am an invisible man.
Try and see me if you can.
Shy and quiet I remain alone.
Silent is my voice’s tone
No one can feel my pain and sorrow
As I hide inside of my burrow.
Shadows consume my body and soul
As I embrace the misty cold.
The reason for my unseen being
Lies in the fact I hate being seen.
This life and existence’s of my own choice
And I choose not to have a voice.
I am silent. Invisible. Inexistent.
Yet I am invincible, an immortal being
If I told you that I cry when we argue
You'd probably say its time for you to leave
You'd say I care to much and I want more
Than what you can give me.
But I'm not asking for anything.
I just want you near me.
I want to be honest
But you have to stop
Threatening to walk away
If you were gonna walk
Away you wouldn't have let me stay
Something in both of us is not finished yet
I don't know how long this will last
All I know is that I'm not done yet.
We sleep deep with eyes reflecting sudden drag in turmoil
We lament then run full circles in distant fantasy parked by its brevity
In sleepless nights frozen conclave we insist that we get our way;
Shapes of frightened cold unleashed sway;
Colors flourishing in ambiance tempered in modest excursion
A sworn agreeable text to lament in hot regard to its pierced claim
Shattered glass on its myraid surface with plot;
Sadness in hearts that swell in its loosened conclave of ivy dew
Drops of loom loose filled the room faltered glow
For the kingdom of God is at hand!
Through a choiced drama
Through a blaze of glory an almost different story!
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more stormy and less temperate.
Rough winds do shake our fragile bonds of May,
And summer's temper hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot your sweat does shine,
And often is your beauty dimmed;
And every handsome man you do decline,
by chance, they leave chest hair untrimmed.
Part 2 Variation
Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art as stormy and as cold
And do leave me longing for May
And winter’s temper too long showed
Sometime too cold yours eyes shine GREY
Are you wearing black?
Yes it’s a funeral I know
But underneath the garb
Is that all black also?
No, it’s not irreverent
Picturing you in lacy black
There was no bigger letch
Than your dead uncle Jack
There is a dividing line between the chasm fault
Some are eager & content to appear righteous yet
They are only fooling themselves through a dance
One in twain marked on its blotted page yet fully intact
Working too hard can give anyone a heart attack
Lines have been drawn in the sand
When will we ever understand?
The visible from the invisible yet now were caught in the middle
Some our eager and content in playin second fiddle?
Clearer heads have prevailed yet
There is still known torture from within my friend
One will take the time out to listen
A sign of grace spread out upon a peyton place
Circumstances all for second glances?
Yet the heart from within will surface again
Fought back the tears with a smile still to know all the great while
A pen on a paper a stereo to caper
Me & Eric b & a nice cool plate of fish
Sorry to have missed its waiting bliss
In agony we will begin to see
A misfortune to a heightened reality as a key
Soaring ever higher then ever before reaching great heights
Shattered fragments on the pavement floor
Some are eager & caught in vice
perhaps another chance or a roll of the dice?
If you bring roses to my funeral, I will haunt you
I will rattle your windows,and go thumping
and bumping in your attic.
If you place mementos at my graveside
I will place dead birds at your doorstep
every morning, to scare your children.
If you cry and weep over my coffin
I will be sure to bring a thunderstorm
to all your spring picnics.
So, for your own good , please remember
If you must bring something, make it a drink
If you must leave me something, let it be a smoke
If you must shed tears, laugh until you cry
and play "Good Riddance".
YOU ARE NEXT!
Wedding coat finery
covering my wretched dismay.
After pinching cheeks
aunties would always say,
“You are next!”
as if saying made it so.
Countless times it happened
no matter how often I said no.
Until I discovered how to stop it
using this little ironic gem;
now when I see them at family funerals
I started saying it to them!
One thing said about politicians
They can gather money like morticians
Who bring dead for burial
That go to meet Gabriel
While politicians greet contributions
I do not know?
this may be your last day,
How do you want to spend it?
Laying out on the driveway..
Maybe under my car..
In the tunnel by the creek..
Perhaps in the bush on the other side of the fence,
Tormenting my dogs on the fence because you have no other defense?
Maybe leaving huge dukes in the planter and front yard,
Your day will come *****cat..
When all your obnoxious purring will pay off.
Ill open that sliding glass door and the last seconds of life will be chaos,
You'll try to scram up the fence, your butt getting stuck on a branch,
Tia and Freddy will be so happy they finally made their catch!
The undertaker at Butcher's Funeral Parlor received the dreadful call.
Seems old Senator Cheatum keeled over and succumbed at the local mall!
His untimely demise spurred the undertaker to set a series of events in motion,
To ensure that everything went smoothly with a minimum of commotion!
Senator Cheatum made prior funeral arrangements including the care of his cat.
He was to be interred in Glorious Sunrise Cemetery in a pleasant, shady plat.
Mr. Butcher, the undertaker, had to arrange for guys to excavate his grave,
So he collared three of the town's ne-er-do-wells, Arnold, Cletus and Dave.
He found them hanging out at Clyde's Saloon guzzling Old Milwaukee beers!
Those fellers had dug graves for dozens of townsfolk for years and years.
They loaded their shovels and a couple of cases of beer in Dave's pickup truck.
They figured on having the job completed before the sun set with any luck.
They measured the plat to a precise four by six and when all was ready,
Their elbows flew as they shoveled that hallowed clay, albeit, a bit unsteady!
They paused for a break every fifteen minutes or so to tap another brew.
As the grave reached the prescribed six feet, it grew more and more askew!
In their bleary-eyed state they weren't concerned about the esthetics of it all.
They just wanted to pack up their gear and head for Clyde's Saloon and Pool Hall.
They eyed their handiwork, drank some more and Cletus was heard to expound:
"Shucks, that old fart was so crooked that they could screw him in the ground!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Stay tuned - sequel to follow!
He had to be on his guard at all times
The swift forces of evil sifted through to receive his gait
Still in awe combersome state of resistance
What everyone simply needs in life is a chance
Then soon vanquished to its cryptic elemental heights
Some having even fought back the intense pain lest I refrain;
Another twist in prominant vice to promote its blow
Some our quite eager & content
In getting the best out of me...
Some having sifted through its canvas setting abode
Others ponder relics in an excursion filled up in cold & distant stream
By a clever heart of careless scheme
As fragmented cold yet distant hearts asunder
In stoic yet stark quiver in its plumetted excursion
Shelter lies dormant exposed to its inner beckoning call
Within a certain thrust to expose eternal vigilance
Today are society lies dormant;
Exposed to its desperate rudimentary elements!
In justification marked on its pivotal blank page yet fully intact
Gone our the days to frolic in a haze
We tend to vomit on each others neck
In regret with sore vent Vlad Impolaric ways
You stoled my heart then ran the distant mile away
Filtered in the mass hysteria with tiny nerves to sway
No shelter to cry we all fall for the lie
The liar is in us all
A peril excuse to next abuse
With a tug at the heart vanquished to even run the final mile
A jewel of the Nile with glasse cracked in desolation
Straight to Hell on your next vacation,
Surfing the videos on the web
What the Hell is going on inside our head?
Sweltering heat with bloodshed in our street,
The mind falters then crys with an ellusive side
Faltering critics in darkened demise having fins for teeth
Shattered in the wind six times then we begin again.
Out of the heart
Springs the many issues of life amidst
Throughout a distant embracing strife
Out of the heart a modest choice to make
In ardent springs embraced upon temporal negate
Comes about a correlation within its peace
Strong is it may seem
Out of the heart some may disagree/
Out of the heart...
One may equate logical persuasion out of a mist filled with reality;
The tender soil still quickens lending it to art as in some specific touch
Through a variation in a dream falling apart at the seams
Some are even very eager to engage in its deepest sympathy?
One may negate truth thus in order to twist its factual to live the lie?
Still others equate logical persuasion amidst;
Out of the heart form the issues of the heart/
Through darkened shades of Pine some may even spring a leak?
We still know what tomorrow might bring?
Amidst temporal chords of fallem mankind
We stand amazed at the glue of false fabrication
Twisted thoughts filled with thunder amidst its period of priority
Justification by faith yet they negate logic for a side order of fear
Twisted minds that plug destruction blaming third degree of fire on their very souls
Neglect to pick up the cross & to follow then soaring into sorrow
Never any hopes for a brighter nor that a better tomorrow;
Out of the heart the mouth will speak amidst the madness deepened creek/
Throughout darkened shades of Pine soiled in the breeze with illogical persuasion
We all still know not what tomorrow may bring?
Amidst temporal chords of fallen mankind
Under the surface of the bone filled there is still a layer of skin
Whence, do I need to ever begin again
Fallen man amidst a rise of the angry pagan
Flashlights with a dull pitch formidable response in its equated logical filled lies
Does all of the lie come at any logical big enough surprise?
once there was an old man on a lane
he always had many cats
then he took a train
and went down another lane
In time corpse shine twilight sun had tainted my inner vision
Shooting blanks at the rooster just supose another number feeling somber
Doesn't any wonder?
The inclusion within vile pathetic outrage
Shooting blanks as busy as Tyra Banks in bikini eating linguini
Torpedo, remember Frank Serpico?
Frantic in Autumn looking brightly colored orange
In pivotal choices sense of remoseful inclusion
In dirty laundry vile smell who could tell
A window opens air will blow to breath in the steam,
Shouts of glory to untold story morning glory;
Shooting blanks getting lost in the shark tank
Romantic interlude toward vanity
In tuned harmony to its hidden beasts menagerie
Shooting Blanks in the phone at the door
At the beach while Mrs. Polly eating a peach.
Here my guttural wombat cry
I'm envisioning a life without you...
This ridiculous school bus pandering-
Let the mafia emerge from underground
Shell the streets down
To choke this gasoline vibe
What were you hoping this time around?
Let the karma ferris wheel fly off the boardwalk
And skittles pepsi cola families
Hit the rebound
Your sucking the atmosphere dry
I'd rather dig a grave than participate
I'll be a carpenter bee
To your massive unparalleled stupidity
We each must believe in something to exist
Whether self is king or that in certain vice
To delegate a chance or that in some roll of the dice
Some our content in stoic & mundane
Wile others our frankly mentally insane
For the mighty God has done great things for me
Within pivotal yet fruitless gain or from borrowed chase
A reckless abandonment to an empty corpse shell
An angelic fervor of sorted chasm intact
For stregnth comes in like a flood
Just suppose we just faintly disagree
This does not negate the real fact of spiritual equality
We each represent a stoic source in truth
Yet devided we sore vex call it a viable truce
Through a barrage in ample demonstrative approach to appease
For the mighty God has done great things for me
With painted stone freshly on the outside patio decorum intact
Tolerance is never an issue anymore
Set in stone its attributes deminish through a slight in hand
Hoping that someday soon we will surely live to understand
For the mighty God has done great things for me
With his mercies endure from age to age
Through frolic in twilight pasture
In ardent song within its smoked filled room laughter
This in effect prepares no one for the great here after?