Best Stick In Poems
A Stick In The Mud
the ground was wet on that hot day
beautiful ashes torn in the mockery of its sphere
yet I stand alone here waiting
waiting for a next move to be made
my couch is my friend
a dismal purpose to construct my laziness
onto a distant land I seek yet alone on my two feet
I washed the residue off my face
this time I see a mere reflection of what's good inside
days of endless worry in such a reflective way
humble myself to bow the knee to pray
words can express the love that one has inside
Some search as if nomadic herdsmen in sight
others ponder the reluctance to reach heaven's door
still inside there are screams falling apart at the seams
we sweep the rubbish under the rug
falling head long into the vile extreme
we slowly come unglued as fools learn to swim
yet I'm stuck in the mud with the hope to endure
the steam of hot lava erupting from within
one can become carnal if their head is not on straight
tossing and turning through the madness of the day
release the fire from within to find the hidden desire with out
a cause to reflect in its sparkling array of brilliance intact
Under the knife with a poke and a prod
That tube's stuck in where, say what, oh my God
Pain throbs to the nth degree
Everytime Willie goes pee
Putting something in there should be outlawed
You filthy rodent
Why did you eat up my plants?
You're a stubborn pest
You stick in the mud
Why did you chew up my crops?
You're very naughty!
Shame on you, silly, hairless rodent!
Remind me to buy some chicken wire or rodent traps!
4/26/13
Dedicated to a church friend by the name of Pearl
She has a big front yard and a huge back yard
I have a stick in my eye.
It looks like a puppet's
Whos been caught in a lie.
The whole of my world
Easily sees
The strangling hold
This stick has on me.
It burns and it stings
Never waivers its fire
And it catches and snags
On any might desire.
This stick in my eye
Is so demanding of me
insisting my focus
An intolerable degree.
All thought and perception
Are owned by this minion
As is my "self"
Kept from release
Too preoccupied and pinioned.
Months had to fester
And now red with anger
Time heals this not
For infection does linger.
I would like there to be a stick in your eye,
My rugpulling playmate,
With heart gone awry.
You were there when it happened,
'Twas about your own fable
And though I love you still
Of this life I'm not able.
But the lil' one of mine,
With a star in his eye
Keeps me from leaving
With his light
in my sky.
you hear voices through the veins of unearthed societal rampage
a whole host of angels driving us forward filtered through the solace of my mind
the tempter deals in the fade to black notion of reality
we swerve to release are final testament
eyes today with spots having holes living by sight
viscous long hanging fangs that bite dripping blood off side
we embrace the arts only as a filter for are own selfish agenda
lines are being dram in the sand when will we ever live to understand
the grass withers and the clouds will fade
still I feel I'm a stick in the mud with no love
although it may appear that way on the outside I choose to run away hide
in my vast dreams with kings & queens
block the silence from my fragile egg shelled mind
the crucifix is for those who are willing to tast faith's reality
as they live in a land of make believe
through the vast correlation of a dream where people scream
drawn out the silence with a bit of violence
only to bask in the vast expanse between space & time
why does one equate logic for free for I shed a tear to numb the pain
not having love in my heart is driving me insane like life in the fast lane
we have come this close not to turn back now
can't ever let go when your hands on the plow
still I feel I'm a stick in the mud
sweeping things under the rug
life gives you a shove
inside we hide behind four walls that bind
its the bling leaders of the blind
although at times I feel as a social outcast but that soon will pass
through a variation in a dream you can draw people in
wearing decorated masked a face filled with laughing gas
you may think your having a blast by not fearing the reaper
but your day will certainly come the books will be opened
the verdict will be read for the walking dead
a challenge to be free is a question of time my one solution is using my mind
living on the edge and its going to my head sitting up at night all alone in bed
following the rainbow to the sky I see a vision of you pass me by
Our war were in is almost over its hard to believe I lost my lover
but soon you will discover the notion of madness ensues
what hurts you the most is it in pain