I said to the class,
"Now the first thing we're going to do, is feed this poem."
& I asked my friends, "Do you want to help me write an Arthurian epic?"
They replied, "Do we?!"
My son is writing a story, with a character called Professor Question-Mark
My daughter believes we're taking a plane somewhere every night
I picked up my children on the last day of their summer camp,
With my son running out the automatic doors uttering, "Let's get out of here."
Hundreds of pounds down the drain
Mad cheddar
Mad stacks of cabbage and
Post traumatic Christmas disorder
In the King's chamber at Windsor Castle
The audioguide informs tourists of its decorative history
Before announcing the bed in question in front of us is not the actual bed
A man groans and walks off
My mum asks me to go check on my dad in the public bathroom
I knock on the cubicle and say, "Dad, are you in there?"
He replies, "Yeah."
We find him at Victoria Square and I realise it wasn't him
There is mad screaming from another carriage on the train
I know we are near our station
Let’s get this show on the road,
The car's still empty and we can't seem to load
Susie's applying makeup, Jake’s playing video games,
Mary’s scrolling her socials, where friends call her names.
I want to get to the airport, I want to be
clambering into an Impressionist painting of the sea
Ride the chestnut ponies, get back to something real,
My kids are in a rabbit hole, they forgot how life can feel.
(Chorus)
We're on an oven burner, like a doomed toad—
So let’s get out of here, get this show on the road,
We'll ride wild ponies, neighing by the sea.
We'll go back to living, we'll go back to free.
It helps sometimes to leave a comfort zone,
Children connected to the whole world, but to me they seem alone.
The old ways had their wisdom, and a simpler moral code,
Let’s flip this circus upside down; get this show back on the road.
organ
organ grinder
get out of here orange, you do not fit!
Oregon
ornate
ornery
stop it orangutan or I’ll give you something to cry about
ordinary
orthodox
or what?
Put up your dukes
My life at stake and I didn’t realize
Where there’s truth there are lies,
That good could come from bad
Sorrow from what makes you glad,
Life sets us in many varying guises
deceit in her smile, malice in her eyes.
Life is one long stretch of compromise
Hard to break free before one’s demise,
Heaven, hell, sin, salvation, all hearsay
Life and death come and go but one way.
Trapped in time it’s hard to get away
To whom does this come? Lord, I pray
I must get out of here, must sever all ties
change my identity and assume a disguise;
With one heartbeat short, one breath away
The mighty death, Oh, is but held at bay.
In this world of depression,
You are always kept lost.
And to ever get out of here,
You will pay a hefty cost.
At first, you're unable to believe
And refuse the price to pay.
The longer you are stuck here,
Everything gets worse each day.
That high price you refused,
You see people willingly pay.
You begin to wonder about it,
You're desperate to get away.
In this dark and heartless place,
Your hope is replaced with fear.
Your nightmares become reality,
And you're ready to leave here.
The price that you must pay
Is the life that you live.
But to be done with depression,
Your life you freely give.
My life at stake and I didn’t realize
Where there’s truth there are lies,
That good would come from bad
Sorrow from what makes you glad,
Life sets us in many varying guises
deceit in her smile, malice in her eyes.
Life is one long stretch of compromise
Hard to break free before one’s demise,
Heaven, hell, sin, salvation, all hearsay
Life and death come and go but one way.
Trapped in time it’s hard to get away
To whom does this come? Lord, I pray
I must get out of here, must sever all ties
change my identity and assume a disguise...
With one heartbeat short, one breath away
The mighty death, Oh, is but held at bay!
the den is as dark as the inside of a witch’s hat, macabre as can be
someone with a green face and pointed nose sits across from me
her nose gives a twitch, there is too much make up around her eyes
her hat is pointed with inverted peak at the top, no big surprise.
my partner is dressed as a computer, with a square metallic head.
Her date is Dracula, red blood around mouth as if he’s eaten some dead.
my date is uncomfortable, I can tell by the way his eyes move around.
a more unlikely candidate for a Halloween party can rarely be found.
table is set in Victorian crystal; there is a pile of something on the plate.
hostess has just arrived dressed in drag; she is fashionably late.
We clap for her, for her entrance deserves some kind of applause.
Walking past our table is a dark grizzly with the longest bear claws.
Let’s get out of here my date says as a tail hits him in the neck.
Tail of a large sparkly purple stegosaurus who stops to genuflect.
Giving the hostess his arm, making his way back now.
Tail hits my man again. He jumps up and says “Holy cow!”
Crypt and memories of the past
I feel like a corpse in a morgue, I am already that, a living dead
My crypt is so cold, dark, blind darkness everywhere, life after life
I got up, but the door was closed, this is my prison, found myself here the eternal life
Passed years, passed life, forgotten love, only illusion of my life, and illusory of the world, deceit
Child age, youth, parents, family, our house, sisters and brothers, girlfriends, workplaces, church, and my bicycle have not existed, it was all make-believe
Hmm, very bad this cemetery life, the smell of death, infinite demonic life, and eternal suffering became my class after death
Maybe this is Hell. Is this the Hell? Hmm, I don't know, it’s blind of mind, but not a human life, not a man's life, not a human being anymore
I want to leave this life, but I can’t this crypt is my jail, there is no light, just memories, and memories from the past run everywhere in my mind
Hmm, I can’t do anything, I am a prisoner of my past, when do I get out of here? I don’t know, no idea, time is cruel, my memories kill my life
Unlike her eastern twin of the ocean,
she’ll shed no tear for the lost and alone.
No emotion for the wretched masses,
because her heart shall be as hard as stone.
In her fist she’ll carry no bright beacon,
to call those huddled masses to her shore.
She’ll tower above a locked iron gate,
no golden path stretched out before her door.
She will take your poor, homeless, tempest tossed,
send them back to the place from whence they came.
They will not be welcomed to her bosom,
but cast aside in America’s name.
Her barbed borders guarded by armed forces,
sending out her cold message loud and clear.
Proclaiming America’s new motto,
If you’re not rich or white, get out of here.
Finishing his last sip of tea, Sam said to Susan,
"I don't think that they were expecting us,
But I can't believe they left the windows down.
Busy with the sweetest tea she ever had, Susan
did not respond. Sam further stated, "Drinking
from a cup is not my best choice, but it certainly
beats not drinking at all". Susan still did not reply.
It seems that Sam just couldn't stop talking.
He said, "By the way, Susan, did you notice the
name of this place? We must tell all our friends".
Susan finally said, "Come on Sam. Are you kidding me?
They will laugh at us and think that we are joking.
Let's get out of here".
Boom! A thud echoes in the darkness, Voices call out to me,
Despite the cold and the night's chill, I'm drawn towards the mysterious sound.
A distant voice, I start to shake,
Is this for real or just a fake?
I step ahead, my heartbeat slow,
Not sure if I should dare to go.
“You scared me!” I shout in fear,
“No trespassing get out of here!”
Then comes a laugh from just one side,
A friend steps out, no place to hide.
“It’s just a prank,” they grin with glee,
But still, I feel unease in me.
The wind it howls, the branches sway,
And fear won’t seem to fade away.
Whispers taunt my mind,
Leaving unsettling thoughts behind.
On this moonless, stormy night,
Why play such games of fright,
When fear still lingers through the night.
so much darkness and gloom followed the tornado around Omaha
Some were dour and sour about it; I was numb, it had been a disaster
I have to get out of here, I told my husband. He understood.
Make relatives make Eeyore in Winnie The Pooh Books look upbeat.
As I wandered off, I discovered a sliver of blue in the horizon.
It was upright, and had a glimmer of verdent green at the bottom.
When I got closer I discovered a doorway into Happy Meadow Land.
I had not been there since I was five-years-old, but I remembered her!
I squeezed through the gate and began tumbling in summersaults.
Play! a soft voice said. Laugh, sing, love your life, look for the good.
I stayed there for a couple of days, refreshing and uplifting myself.
When I returned I figured everyone would be angry with me.
My husband gave me a wide smile. “Where did you go?” He asked.
I told him about Happy Meadow Land.
My cousins overheard me and said it was not a real place.
My soul knew better.
Chet wore his plaid pants up to his pencil protector
People ran from the cafeteria when they saw him
He was an incessant talker
Never let anyone else speak
We have all been cornered by him
His prattle is boring; scientific crap
Stuff none of us care about
Quantum physics, montum shizzicks,
We don’t even believe in whatever it is
We are from the Midwest
in a town of two thousand
He may be my cousin, but I am the first to say
Clear out of the way, I have to get out of here
He is an educated idiot
Spewing facts right and left
Over our heads they go, bouncing round the walls
flicking into the furniture like bullets
No one is interested!
We back up as he edges into our personal space
He has no boundaries,
it is all about him
and it is annoying
to those of us who
have a life.
What's that, that noise I heard through my music?
It sounded loud, is something wrong?
Was it something bad, or did I just assume it?
Maybe nothing at all and it's just the song?
What's that scream, is it from someone near me?
Was it a shot, gunfire from the person over there?
Are they coming for me, am I being attacked?
Do I make up every way bad things can happen to me?
Am I the next, the next headline to be on the news?
A part of the fatality that makes up a few?
Will the end of my life be on this day?
Or will I live on with safe passageways?
That person is too close, are they going to hurt me?
What's that in their jacket, is it a weapon?
Am I safe, how can I get out of here?
What do I do, have I gone completely insane?
Trauma has a funny way of messing with the brain
Never will I truly feel safe ever again
On guard, a knife carried with my crystals
Still isn't enough to save me from the paranoia
Josh once had a small tick on his rear
And yelled at it to get out of here
So the pesky runt
Crawled around front
And took a long walk on a short pier
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