Long Blain Poems

He fell one stormy midnight clear,
His feet upon his head,
He deaf of mouth and blind of ear,
All purple, green and red.

He dined politely on a rose,
Then with a speckled hen,
He quickly drew himself a nose,
And...

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I break my back bone to cultivate your life,
Your life, I mean your daily rice,
The  rising sun never wakes me,
I am already on the field saying Good morning,
When my fingers dig with axe and...

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~ Homage to Walt Sing Matt Tilde ~

The art of the
     "FAKE" deal (according
     to Walt Dizzy Take a Knee Sing
     Matt Tilde)...

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Sleep deprived,
Feeling all the raindrops set off by the slightest 
Welcome to bad weather 
This thing called my life
Never been one to contemplate suicide
But damn if it doesnt feel like i live a lie

Let me...

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My heart is alleviated,
Wishing that it was all a dream,
Hoping to wake up soon,
From this nightmare,
Nothing else matters to me, 
I left all left behind,
Looking at your eyes bright,
Staring at me,
Feeling the deepest pain,
Yet comes...

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I.

The night hangs heavy in this room.
Only dead-folk live here now,
Except me: my eye-fires burn - 
Angers, regrets, remorses turn

Lazy circles, dancing silent
In bodies of these dead-folk
They have stolen.  What right have they?
I –...

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Comes again

The hills surround the green summer grain
A tractor passed us on the muddy lane
A field mouse scampers as I hear the coming train
A sky of blue as I look up to see a jumbo...

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Defiance

Chained, detained like a primitive animal caged, enraged. 
Jabbed, stabbed with finely sharpened venomous barbs, scarred.
Bled, fed nothing but hatred seasoned with dull puns, shunned. 
Blackened, beaten as ear-piercing cacophonous screams teem.
Laughing, spitting blood; my...

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Examinations is like a blain – 
It is like a teacher with a cane;
Rules and decrees do clearly lain
To discourage us purpose main.
We are made scared and wane
Many a times makes us insane
Brain is trained...

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Mfs speak the same story.
Trophey kids right?
We settle for the same glory.
Statistics growing up.
We've never seen the same jury.
But no father growing up.
Excuses be the same cornies.
Living life asking why he didn't want us.
Way before...

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I hear the thunder,
He yells of the pain,
That creeps into his soul,
With blotches and blain,


The lighting strikes,
Leaving his mark in the grass,
where will he go next?
Never to return to a already touched path,

Rain splashing unto...

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