Scatter my dada
Don’t let my enemies laugh at me
Don’t let me break through this hard times
Don’t let this Empty bottles of alcohol
Consume my heart
Don’t let my worries be my torture
Don’t let my dreams be my fear
I have been through this fires with it shadows smokes and flames
I thought it will shape me a new person
I have been calling for grace
I hope it don’t take a life time
So don’t let me give up on myself
I have been hoping all this times
I have been working hard all this days
Don’t let me break in this era of temptations
I don’t need to
Scatter my dada
Scatter my dada
I feel alone despite all around me
I feel like am drowning with no words
Yet my silence is louder than my quest
Don’t let me be far from favour
Remember my good attribute’s when am down and tired
Remember my words when is night
There is no sweet pain in darkness
So Don’t fail me when my energy is done
I was a survival with no remedy
My past are full of the art of actions
So don’t let my life be an empty vesel
Don’t leave me to break my dignity for vanity
Cos this will make me
Scatter my dada
A letter to my maker
appeal to
sensibilities
actualité
truth to tell
randomly
selected
the absurd
riding its
hobby
art
where
less is more
deconstructed
outrageous
spontaneous
inherent
simplicity
gathered
in
a happening
follow the poolside shadows
Venus of Delphi
daughter of bitter waves
peek through the peephole
of my glaucous thorax
open your byzantine eyes and
spurn your locomotor ataxia
one glance at our vitreous hands
– a sight for blind sore eyes
one brush of our riveted lips
– gone astray in malformations
one ponderous confession later
– immaterial as a shadow of the lash
let the weeping corpuscles lie
swarm and jostle in the grotto
rattle and blather away our days
I’ll wait for your recriminations
fall asunder under your touch
fastidious in my entomology
let the bouquet glide downstream
the scytheman is still in his kingdom
then we rejoice in endless daze
the lingering beaten with bravura
hobby-horse
performance
art
with
appeal to
our sensibilities
"MoMa Dada"
baby's first words spoken in broken English
the absurd
riding its
hobby-forze
we only wanted to be kids
not heroes.
we wanted to catch ships of clouds at the sky
not black seadevils in the drain.
we wanted lemons for lemonade
not salt for our wounds.
but there it came
the dramatic change of scenery
prohibition of dreams and innocence
he iron lung in the birth parlour
rabid dogs raiding the cathouse
curtains falling over our eyes
Mad Hatter suddenly cured & sane
Laura Palmer found safe and well
pitch-black darkness in the lighthouse
silver screen cockatoos on the loose
teddy bears in war with smartphones
hangmen having a morning espresso
moth children scared of Vincent Price
giant blood oranges with hematophobia
ballerina’s alcoholic husband tin soldier
drunk on moonshine from golden sunshine
such a wrong time to be a human being
paradoxically, we only wanted to be kids
at the wrong time
He came beating a path
That devolves everything
That is norm
Strangely kitted
Strangling patterns
Dawning and hatching
Stirring the hope
Of the unmasked kind
Erasing all dreads
Settling to rest
All that was held aloof
Dada, a.k.a.: "Cold blue hammer running red hot."
Limbaugh Mueller intrusion
Harsh fraud gangster Trump
Russian Democrat fusion
Vivid collusion
False doughnut rump
GPS hotel conspire
On sanctuary city impeach
Asylum California fire
Wall Pelosi dire
free speech
fake muse
by, Martin Braun
11/29/2018
.
Umbrella
calls
evening
This
,
bring
this
.
Your
for
rain
In
,
Pours
and
just
rains
it
when
it
i call you dada
yes you are my sister
though we are not related
your attitude concerns me
and you don't seem to care
because that's what you are
dada,my sister
that's no way for an african beauty to behave
hanging around bars and pubs
waiting on men to buy you drinks
i call you dada
that's swahili
it means sister
dada,have you ever wondered
why they call you malaya?
change your ways dada
i urge you
get a job
if you wanna make a life for yourself.
The
random
selecion-
a hobby-horse
art.