I have ants like Easter eggs lost in the grass.
Feeling the wasp nest in my neck like a mass.
I bellowed because my head has no chance.
Like grasshoppers who can’t prance.
I belong because I am a basement floor.
Who gets cracks in it like a burning core.
I belong like spiders sipping on the harmful dust.
Hurts like sandpaper we can’t trust.
But I belong because I am like Saturn.
That rusty, reddish pattern.
Head musty like decisions.
No kind of revisions.
Shocking.
Spiderwebs interlocking.
Belonging isn’t always kind to me.
I still am a glob in the sea.
Soap scum come to fruition.
I was just wistful fishin’.
The screams of the broken echoed forth
The pain of the wounded bellowed
We prayed for redemption
We prayed for silence
Firecrackers whirled in the distance
Ears ringing
Endless searching for hidden safety
Hearts beat in rhythmic panic
The world I once knew shattered in an instance
The drum roll
beats out control
in a game
of warped reframe.
On a coiling balustrade
plays meister masquerade
to craft the will
at bellowed drill.
Docile rule
disarms to fool.
With artful ruse
the vapid lose.
This mind is forever desolate, lost within the tides
Peace of mind I have never known
Find me among dripped tears
Follow crimson footsteps that lurk under
closed doorways
Locked knobs to keep the world at bay
Don't help, Don't fix me
You listened behind those hinges
I thought the noise was stuck in my head,
Dreams that echoed into reality
The screams were this hidden voice that bellowed
Lying that I am fine
I've tried, I've tried
I feel so empty, lost
I want to let go
But who believes a crying wolf.
A tourist named Joe from Dundee
Got lost by the bright sunny sea;
He bellowed, “Where is my map?”
Searching, he fell in a trap;
He yelled: “These trips aren`t fun for me.”
i love it
bioacoustics stuff
not hoots, nor twit twoo
sensory imagery
i hee-hawed
to the office
squamates and development hell
floods of tears and memories
of hungry hungry hippos
i bellowed in the closeness
the closeness of you
you go in this direction, i go in that, and we must meet.
(belt).
Postman Pat's cat is called Jess.
how cooler and grittier it might have been, had it
been called Jesse James
when they excavated my back yard they discovered dinosaur bones
It was an intact skeleton of a stegosaurus, and it bellowed at them.
Being men, they were afraid, and left the area, but not without screaming.
My girlfriends and I went out to investigate. One of them called her a fossil.
The skeleton cried. “I have a name,” she told us. It’s not Fossil!”
No one but me heard her, so I sent them home. I wanted her to myself.
Her name was Gladys, and she had been in the earth a long time.
I brought her into the house through the sliding door.
Taught her to cook, bake, and vacuum. We had a great life together.
I could not tell just anyone this, but you are my therapist, right?
On sunny days, I feel a little dazed,
And see my life as easy, bright, and blazed.
Until the next day when it rains so hard,
I bellowed my thoughts and saw them get marred.
As the coin flickering head or a tail,
When tossed up to redeem your fragile grail.
Life vanquishing well your prejudiced say,
With a flick of her magical foreplay.
And in intercourse she may be quite rude,
Untamed or tranquil depends on her mood.
rainbow chicken was in one of her moods, not of delight.
She sat on the fence kicking her feet; she is not always bright.
Her outfit was outrageous, as it often is, of course.
The rest of the barnyard poked fun at her, especially the horse.
Who does she think he is? the horse bellowed to the sheep.
The sheep kept quiet, for they often do not make a peep.
The rooster got irritated and tried to pull his daughter off the fence.
A fierce struggle ensued that did not even make sense.
the two- ton Iowa steer gave me a ***** leer
over hear, dear, come be my ever-loving peer.
Smile sheer, he wore rings in his nose and right ear.
I resolved not to go near until I had consumed my beer.
Nothing to fear bellowed the steer. Over hear dear, over here!
The gossamer on a child’s frame, looked new and ancient,
all at once. A ghostly smile, a trick and treat, directed at me.
No wrinkles on the hand of time, his godforsaken finger
pointed at the stabbed pigeon. I followed the tracks of blood
down to the river. I seemed to have no choice, in this misty
sequence. A grief-stricken mother lay next to her child.
A solo, red shoe alongside the body. Gossamer-boy wore
the other shoe, pristine-white. A wicked groaning bellowed
from inside the frame of this devil’s child. The mother moves
beside a grave and deposits dead roses on her son’s tomb.
She lost both her children that night. One she claims
a t the gate… the other is left to his fate.
This is a story of wee mental Blair minty Wilson,
he was a father a brother a nephew an uncle a cousin and one true friend,
he was loved by everyone that he did meet,
His mental health hid from all to see,
And the world was cruel to what he was going through,
On the outside he was full of joy, and he was so proud of his baby boy,
no matter to where he went, he took his dog jack walks through hills and glens,
He was some kid that was so kind, on the outside he smiled,
But had loads on his mind,
No matter where minty went,
he was a funny lad and loved to the end,
we will keep him close to our hearts,
and he will never ever part,
Such a shame you could not speak, to how you felt so we could not see,
wish you opened your heart, and we knew you would never have to part,
but we hope your with your mum and your grandparents love,
till we meet again r i p our friend,
in the church they bellowed out kodaline tune,
that touched our hearts too, and at the grave we said goodbye,
with a tear in our eye,
but we know you will be there, and hear us all in our prayer,
till we meet once again, sleep tight minty till we meet again,
On sleepless nights, down winter's road,
A lonely knight in silence strode.
He raised his drink, a golden hue,
And bellowed deep, as sorrow grew.
A sudden quake—his soul it stirred,
And through the haze, strange voices heard.
He counted souls with trembling hand,
Each one like grains of dying sand.
The night grew cold, the stars grew dim,
No cheer nor warmth remained for him.
But lo! A ferryman appeared—
With staff in hand, four holes it speared.
Aghast, the knight beheld his face,
Time had worn it—left no trace
Of youth or mirth, just aching bones,
A mirror held to silent groans.
And then his glass—now slick with mold,
Slipped from his hand; he felt so old.
“Au revoir,” the stranger sighed,
To charred-eyed knight, whose heart had cried.
Then toward a light from darkened skies,
He went—no fear, no need for guise.
A star, perhaps, or something more,
A beacon to a distant shore.
And thus the tale, now soft and thin:
A knight finds peace from strife within.
For he may rest, his journey done—
A life well lived, a race well run.
From way down in "Bama"
Stirring echoes of Big Mama
A thunderous storm that brewed from the Deep South
Each word could be felt when it left her mouth
With her immense presence, showmanship, and confidence
She would capture the hearts and minds of her audience
She stood tall, shoulder to shoulder amongst the sultans of Blues
She didn't have to put on airs 'cause she stood comfortably in her shoes
A woman, a beautiful black woman oozing with creativity and soul
In her kitchen, she took lemons and made pitcher after pitcher of sweet lemonade that she always served cold
Oh, Big Mama you brought that good medicine to the soul when you sang
You bellowed melodies that reached up and tugged on heartstrangs
Oh, Big Mama I see ya' cookin' with your horn, too
Blowin', just blowin' so beautifully as only a few can do
You were so good that some felt a need to copy you and steal your money
Shameful shadowy expressions of a "Hound Dog" depraved music industry
Never to be replicated or duplicated
One of one, you were, but still, you're often imitated
From way down in "Bama"
Stirring echoes of Big Mama
The church bells echoed
chimes across the field
and filled the air with
wonders of their cause.
At first my ears
deciphered peace and joy-
yet too, those echoes
shed a solemn tone.
The church bells echoed
chimes across the field;
their mournfulness now
bellowed through the sky.
Those echoes touched
my heart- as if I knew
they tolled in tribute
to a rising soul.
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