Well what can i put.? I saw piers morgan
Interview him.? And well he.? Made morgan look good.! I saw a great empathy
For the pepple around, even morgan.'
He now.. Jhonny broke new ground.' He put Piers at ease, there was noticable wisdom
And anecdotes, he had me smiling, from a
Subtle joke.' All respect to man who called
Saville a word.' Ammounts to pred-o-vile
Search the net, for this intervew, it will be worth your while.)
poetics be as from
a poe-attic view
as if...
a periscopic mind
be in charge
of a...
sub mission to
observe all round
then launch...
from one imagination
to another image-nation
poetics...
of a sub-misson
effecting a noticable as
right writ..
stan
So many critics in our world
technology has made it more so
Your dress makes you look a tramp, m'dear
Sharp opinions wherever we go
You are to chubby to be a model
and so the cycle starts
Young lady born to anorexia
words to shape her mind and heart
A little boy walks with a noticable limp
at recess kids laugh and point fingers
he stands all alone, pain in his bones
fighting bone cancer that lingers
Don't open your mouth or type those words
think first about how you would feel
if those same words were pointed in your direction
use kind words to help people heal
The highway ended its' way in the West
As a sun made a watery descent,
A stream of carriges
made both ways at once,
Tender thoughts emerge
While the sky began its' daily color change,
Then the moon
in a first quarter dress,
after an aftrenoon climbing spent,
(a noticable performance of stunts,)
Gather a look to my eye
Then streached it over the range.
____________________________________
To be brutally honest with you
We stake our claim to fame
Among falling ambers with feathers for wings
Through a barrage of disgust & then,
For a fallen world in quite a rush
He knows that if he can control your thoughts
That in effect he can control your mind
At one time I could see yet today I'm totally blind
To be brutally honest with you
That effective fervor prayer of the righteous one
From such prayers availeth very much
To resist him will result in a flee
The bruised reed shaken in the wind
Although, Papa was a rolling stone;
He was never to be found very far from home
In matters of solace degree
To be brutally honest with you
A transformed hermit was once a slave
That fully claimed thread,
In noticable silent dread
Some engrafted in essential sought after fabrication
With silver streak to faintly prey on the weak
To be brutally honest with you
A slight of hand once delivered out of divination
In solemn mass to profess a vested proclamation
To be brutally honest with you !
This world lives by pseudobeautificationality
Let me give you a translation, to bring it to reality.
It is the perfect people we see in every magazine and TV program.
We know its fake, but we are all victims to this scam.
We see them and want our bodies to look like theirs.
So we diet insanely and run up and down the stairs.
Men try to mirror the perfectly impossible six-pack,
and women pay to have a more noticable rack.
We buy the most expensive make-up and workout machines.
Sending the message to be perfect, before we're even teens.
Trying to push our bodies beyond their humanly possible borders.
Then we wonder why early teenagers have eating disorders.
We need to see the real beauty in the human being.
We need to know that beauty, goes beyond just what we're seeing.
Get rid of the smoke and mirrors and come back to actuality.
But it will never happen, in this world of pseudobeautificationality.
*****for Paula Swanson's contest "If you build it, they will misuse it."
Night By Night
Day by Day
My mine swirling in continous confusion
Searching for a soulful melody
That would feel that empty position
A staircase that takes me to a place of no where
A door that is open
Though it does not promise a place of growth, comfort, and acceptance
Rather a place that is indescribable
No one person can describe its power
A place of silence
A noticable place of tranquility
But by creating its tranquility
The tranquility is disrupted
A place that controdicts itself
A place we all find ourself lurking upon
A road that we are forced to travel
Yet a choice that we make
A choice that will possibly lead us to self incrimination
A door, a room, a space that we are left to design
To alter, to perfect, to make a haven, a paradise
But by creating this paradise, we may be forced
To fail, to die, to burn
And learn from previous mistakes
An oppurtunity to transform your world from
Inconsistancies and disappoints
To a world of
Fortune and ultimate fame
Or easily vice versa
A key is offered unexpectedly
Into this full but empty apartment
Of love
Fourteen, that's all I am.
Wisedom not yet noticable though my age
But wise I am not
Stupidity comes once so often.
But harsh and unforgiving
Please save me from it.
My eyes, my heart endured so much.
From scarlet red hair of my demons
To the way they treated me
Brainwashed I was.
Best Friend
They would whisper
and fear they would not.
But torn down to my depths.
Reach my angel
Find my lost heart
and fix my eyes to see the heavens.
For Fourteen thats all I am.
But wise I am not.
Another day is gone
the days feel like weeks and the weeks feel like months
I did this to myself or did I
can I use an excuse for my behaviors my feelings and addictions
or wont that be good enough
they all do what they've got to do to get through each miserable day
at night when we lay our heads down to rest
we're so alone dreding the next day
praying that the last day of addiction will come
maybe we will see the light after the long fight of being our own prisoner
our thoughts poking at us our mistakes resting heacy on our chest
our conscience eating at our unforgiven souls
this life hasn't quit the way I wanted it to be
I'm still not free
always running fast trying not to look on my frightning past
I cut my hair I change my look
living so many lives I could write a book
all I wanted was to be a star
I see I didn't make it far
now I'm left with another noticable scar
they got this girl walking down the street head high hair flying in the wind
skirt short but not revealing make up noticable but not covering up true beauty
I'm feeling her she makes me feel good.
they got this retard smiling just because while others look at him
n disgust. His smile just gets wider simply because
I'm feeling this retard and he actually looks goods
there's a child walking down the street bouncing a red ball bright as the reddest apple
I'm feeling this boy so hopeful and proud I'm feeling a lot of things in and out of my
thoughts swimming around feeling me with sight touch and sound. Feeling me with feelings
that I'm really feeling right now.
I used to be okay.
I used to be happy.
But then I was used.
My heart, no longer unbroken.
My skin, now raw.
Bleeding.
From the constant torture I put myself through.
I need to get rid of the pain.
And as you lied, the cuts went deeper.
My scars, more noticable.
Your voice.
Chased away my sainity
Making me cry
Making me scream.
The tears burn, as they touch the scars.
Never going away.
No more room left on my skin.
Where will I hide this pain?
From being used.
( 2004 )
Generation CLASS
Time is showing on our ASS
Bulging hips and aching knee caps
God doesn't hand out an "Eternal Youth" free PASS
Dear ME
The flabs are plain to SEE
I guess we're on our way now
To our advancing DESTINY
It is noticable by any MEANS
Can no longer fit in those sexy Levi JEANs
What do I do when I have to SIT-
and those seam lines start to embarassingly SPLIT?
Women no longer FLIRT
and I can't bend over
to peer under their SKIRT
It is no good to swear and COMPLAIN
All I'll end up with is a brown smelly STAIN
As crazy as this really sounds
Our Generation(and Myself)
ARE PUTTING ON THOSE POUNDS!!
When he met her
His head was burrowed
Deep within the sand.
He stood at length for days
Admidst his alcohol binges
And factory work.
She could break him
Like a babbling brook.
And finally,
He lost his high that
Always sat considerably low.
He could feel it in his face
Like he was drowning.
That rubber hose stayed
Taut around his neck
As she tugged the shell
Off his shivering limbs.
It was already going on eight o'clock
When he realized that she too
Was easy to break.
He felt her skin crack
Within his summery palms.
He fed her figs at twelve
And watched her eyes dance beside the fire.
They were branched off in bunches
Like grapes or tourniquet legs.
Left unfinished like
The cradle by the lake
Or the portrait of Dorian Gray.
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