We all need to hope,
in life so we can cope.
It will give us rest,
then we can do our talented best.
Hope can be a great friend,
to the very end.
Hope where would I be without you?
I do not have a clue.
Ravine, art thou real?
You certainly look deep.
Thunder, o'er volcano peal!
Through the boneyard creep!
Hope, just take the night off.
O prisoner, take heed:
First you squat and then you cough.
Golden is such greed.
Emptiness, seep into me!
Flicker, fancy-free.
Time immortal, blessed be?
Sink him in the sea.
O Alliance Black Abyss:
Today I must die.
Yawning chasm, blow a kiss.
Shiver as you sigh.
Back in ancient Carthage?
O state religion, new?
Serenity, O my sage?
O agony, accrue.
Gulf within me, fissure wild.
Robot: reconciled?
Mother, father, clasp thy child.
Floor, monolith, tiled.
Dreams of our tomorrows?
I cannot miss the point.
Endless are such sorrows!
O bitter art, anoint!
Giving up? Why, yes, sir.
I do not have a clue.
Reality, whir a-blur!
Doubt and derring-do...
It doesn't matter how I pray.
Don't need any fancy words to say.
God already knows what's in our heart.
All you and I need to do is start.
I tell Him how I really feel.
Or what part of my body that I need healed.
I ask forgiveness for things I've done wrong.
The Sins in my life that do not belong.
When I do not know what to say.
I say what I'm thinking anyway.
Even times I do not have a clue.
God knows it all, He created you.
Sometimes I'll read a Psalm and will say.
"God please help me in this very same way!"
As for any Church that charges for Prayer.
For me it's a red flag that saying "BEWARE!"
Jesus never once said "compensate Me!"
He healed and preached. He did it for free.
In 2 Corinthians 9 they were "ASKED" to give.
So that poor church members had a means to live.
Don't trust everything the modern Church may say.
Pray and ask God to show you the true way!
Before I had a credit card,
My car, newly repaired,
Required cash to pick it up
And I was unprepared.
I borrowed money, then I got
A MasterCard - hooray!
It changed my means of payment,
Which I still do use today.
Along with checks and cash, that card
Could pay for all I’d need
And up until quite recently,
It seemed that way, indeed.
But then there was some money
That I wanted to convey
And a credit card or check
Just wouldn’t be a way to pay.
Then how ‘bout Zelle or Venmo?
Was the question I was asked.
Alas, I called my son and
For this favor, he was tasked.
It isn’t fair that things that worked
For years no longer do
And with this new technology,
I do not have a clue.
frothy fluffy frazzled fluff
lives in my bellybutton said agent ****
Frenzied frogs do not have a clue
Having no bellybutton as they grew.
My bellybutton is an instant reminder to me.
Placenta which provided nourishment to thee.
Myself and placenta attached by a fleshy cord.
Severed in delivery room by a young doctor’s sword.
Tired of malicious gossip and rancid rumors
of generation X versus baby boomers.
Tired of 24/7 news tickers mixed with commercials
of politicians speeches and shopping channels.
Tired of professional liars and fake success stories
of stock market bubbles and financial worries.
Tired of living in fear and eating sugary crap
of being left in the cold without a coat or a hat.
Tired of being told what to do
of listing to people who do not have a clue.
If the end was near would we know
or would there be another TV reality show?
To fill the void to fill the gap
for where we are going there is no map.
SELF PORTRAIT
To be objective about oneself is hard
All the others’ competing observations
Reluctant to let them into a conclusion
Yet one remains trapped in confusion
Despite all those awkward aberrations
A basic personality cannot be marred
To see a mirror image is just one view
A painted portrait offers yet another
But with no accuracy in introspection
It can always benefit from correction
It’s a close call from one’s twin brother
But for most, they do not have a clue
A photograph may capture one look
But underneath you know it’s unreal
That big fake smile, just for prosperity
As one waved goodbye to all sincerity
Never sure about how one may feel
So many characteristics in the book
A unique tattoo may carry a stigma
Identity may never be quite the match
Under hypnosis, one can be anyone
But as psychoanalysis has finally begun
Even if one is labelled a suspect batch
Who one may be, remains an enigma
After quite long I again saw those eyes
And it felt like there are still some butterflies
It was like my feelings got another rise
I lost one more time, from where it all arise.
I can see myself still desiring to wait
To just have a glance, outside the school gate
Observing your each giggle and every trait
How do I get out of this unpleasant state
I force myself to present
Try to forget each moment
But then I see you with your present
Your head in her hands, with something so pleasant
that you shine so nice, and she deserves your peasant
I know she is the best match for you
So best that I do not have a clue
You are happy with her and that is true
I accept it, fitting myself in your shoe.
**This morning I had awoken, with this swelling in both
my hands,
And however this had started, I do not have a clue.
I wonder if there are people in my support who
understands,
Is this another symptom, that I will have to go through?
**One thing that will upset me, is losing my ability to
write,
I'd be very devastated, if I could not finish my book.
I swear that this condition, is like a thief in the night,
Disguised up as the Devil, who is nothing but a crook!
**| still cannot believe, how fast this has progressed,
Or how it all began, I honestly cannot see.
I also hate the fact, it's making me feel depressed,
I just think it's crazy that this crap is happening to me.
**So Lord, right now I ask You, to reserve my hands to
write,
So I'm able to inform others, about what Neuropathy can
do.
Have Your angels surround me, as they come to me in
flight,
In this I ask in Your Name, for I dedicate my book to You.
The two hundred pound monster was a red kangaroo
I saw him after I had downed quite a few
This story is full of lies and a lot of jeu jeu
He chased an emu who knew how to moo
This fable incudes a weird holiday shrew
She was the meanest loudest hag that I ever knew
She scared relatives from Atlanta to Timbuktu
She shook the kangaroo lose from the bar, nothing I could do
The emu painted a mural of a zebra in my sister’s loo
It makes me smile when I squat in there for a lovely pooh
Through the wall I smell a delicious emu stew
As to the rest of this story, I do not have a clue
**Why does my mother think she can keep on doing this to me?
Yet even a few years later, I do not have a clue!
Though I've told her many times over, so what is it she still doesn't see?
Nor does she consider, what all I'm fixing to go through!
**Plus I clearly mentioned my surgery, it's now less than one month away,
Yet stubborn as she remains, she just has to have us there.
And everything I have said to her, it doesn't matter what I say,
Neither is she considerate, I can't believe she just doesn't care!
**So she'd better get a home health aide, before I mentally break,
Because my family nor myself, can't keep going like we've done before.
For I have literally hit my breaking point, I've just had too much to take,
For this is a losing battle...I cannot fight anymore.
©Melissa Darsey 2021
Under the illusion of a crimson sky
Demons devoured hot steak ale pie
The sky was blue, not crimson yet
What they discussed was a secret you’d bet
Skin pure pale and white
Seemingly staring at me what sight
Restrictions and rules like meanders in valleys
Sing deviously plotting their rallies
Sighs of desperation, disbelief and uncertain times
Hidden agendas of elite and their crimes.
Hand out the dollars, dish out the pounds
Keep deaf ears falling on our resisting sounds.
Keep believing the lies of these clowns
While wearing on our foreheads constant frowns
The demons ate their steak ale pie
Under the illusion of the corruption and lie
The sky has turned crimson from brilliant blue
And the sheep led people do not have a clue.
You taste like honey coated love
And I am sweet on you,
And your heavenly musk
You taste like the most flavoursome
Citric tangy fruit,
Your the sweetest taste, ain’t that the truth
You remind me of the fresh morning dew,
You are the kind of taste I’d always choose
You taste so wholesome, no wonder I love you,
You are my health food
I don’t want to be rude,
But angel, believe me,
I’d eat you, in an instant,
And I do not have a clue
What side could accompany,
Such a perfect taste as you it’s true
But you’re a beauty to digest,
Believe me when I say you’re the best,
Try to not get angry,
Try not to get vexed,
I am complimenting you
In everything you do,
You taste to me, simply way too good
Succulent and tasty,
You are the food of the God’s to sate me
You are the perfect taste in the creating,
And let me tell you this my girl I am not overstating,
what is true.
You are sexy so you flaunt
Your body around and want
The attention from all guys
They are staring with big eyes
When you walk across the room
Their heads turn and start to zoom
In your direction with such ease
All they want to do is please
Every whim and wish for you
But you do not have a clue
There is just one reason they
Act in such a crazy way
The tight skirts, pants, even dresses
Turn them into nutty messes
Makeup covering your flaws
Painted nails look like claws
Hair is done up with such flair
Thongs instead of underwear
They don't see the realness
That is hiding behind this
True beauty is not in boxes
We can still be real foxes
With our kindness, acts and hearts
Not with fake and store bought parts
Look inside and bring it forth
Then you will find your true worth
"Out of the blue the bathtub broke."
Grout it bloke. I am worried and troubled because someone chocked my wheel with a chock.
Some said he chocked my wheel with a choke. He said, she said,they said it was chocked by him with the choke but I do not have a clue of who did because I was fast asleep, indeed, in my room when it was choked.
Confused, Mr Cap, i need a nap in my room. Perhaps, when I wake, i shall forget that the wheel was choked by a bloke I know.
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