I want to see the Northern Lights
And be overtaken with delight.
But, alas, it is not to be,
The city lights are blinding me!
He opened the doors to massive thunderstorms
The lizard king guzzling spirited drinks
Licking the air of the whisky a go go
popping off piping hot vocal strings
Many nights he was a neon light no show.
Chasing down an L. A, woman
in a revved up green highway machine
He fled the heretics of the California scene
accused of exposing his leather-studded thing
like an albatross he drifted over the cold sea
then died in a cheap Frenchy latrine
R.I.P. Lizard King.
Winter won't submit to the whims of Spring;
feathering the ground with white flakes of snow;
and burying any shoots that dare show.
There are no signs Spring is about to show;
for as Winter's icy breath forestalls Spring,
Her wailing winds fuel flurries of snow.
Trees, their frozen feet planted in the snow;
stand disgruntled with Winter's prolonged show,
shivering in the wind, they await Spring.
Smiling snowmen confirm: Spring's a no-show.
There once was a Florida resident
Who set quite a political precedent,
Missed half Senate votes,
But staff took some notes!
And now he wants to be president?
evening falls
darkness calls
every whisper
emotions malled
love stops
hearts clot
every move
stalled
emptyness sets in
seems theres nowhere to begin
here is to me all there is
sitting in a dizz
wanting to throw a tizz
hurt and pain
nothing there to regain
nothing here left to win
my hatred my sin
I was hoping to commune with
Apollo
On this cold bright sunny
morning
So up I jumped from my nice
warm bed
Just before the day was
dawning
So there I stood myself and
me
The picture of isolation
Waiting for something to flip
the switch
That begins the transformation.
But Apollo must have been
busy
Conducting a band of celestial
musicians
Or maybe he was busy
assisting
A team of stoic operating
physicians
So the pool of light far out to
sea
That stirred the imagination
Remained a shimmer pool of
light
Due to my no show inspiration
The two bit no shows
who fear what they don't know
The two bit no shows that won't believe
Because they think it too naive
As if they were made to misconceive
The two bit no shows that don't care
Like Baudelaire
Criticize and condemn without a second thought, so they declare
The two bit no shows that have no purpose
Search for it with a broken compass
Come up short, and deem life worthless
The two bit no shows
You are all fake
It's a competition
With no gains to make
Two bit no shows I'm sick of you
Everyone is fake
And I'm done playing
There's no purpose to it
By Nicholas A. Bello
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