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Where the Bullsh1t Lies

Where the Bull **** Lies Slipping through the cracks as every seam starts to unfold, feel the weight of your hands full of emptiness freezing cold. As the mind bends then falters starting to spin downward again, the heart breaks it's reality, escaping to start over begin. The Classical Irrational, spastical, the emotional wreck cannon ball, becoming this thing, this ugly Being who rather not rise but fall. Traumatized and uncivilized, needing to be happily despised, watered down eyes she cries and cries living all the right lies. Control the Bull, the uncontrollable, is life really that portable, mimicking a stall, the full of crap hyperbole, how horrible, ... Just Horrible ... bmdavey@ 02/28/2016

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Timothy Hicks

Date: 2/29/2016 11:26:00 PM

I might have said this before, but I like how I can easily see a musical beat to go with these lines ... they read like rap, with the rain of rhymes. "Control the Bull, the uncontrollable, is life really that portable," ... sometimes we can't grab the bull by the horns and just gotta let life do it's thing, and hope you get through it. Good poem, my friend. Keep 'em coming.

Brian Davey
Date: 3/1/2016 1:18:00 AM

Thanks friend I do like to write in that way I guess, and I am happy to hear when direct things like that receive good marks because sometimes I get a little unsure before I post because I think most people would not like what I write or how I go about it. Blah Blah Blah thanks for the confidence booster

Damien Knight

Date: 2/29/2016 1:13:00 PM

Clever wording here, different but good none the less

Brian Davey
Date: 3/1/2016 1:13:00 AM

thank you