F raught and caught
B i'partisan creep-up-scular
I gnominously dystopian
America is not coping; and some.' How dark are days.? So; so black become' its all down
As in the scales of melody.? As in those
Of judgement fallen. ( For we truly see' ) its down the
Scale of depravity, amidst a wallowing with
The most detrious acts despicably, oh how much filth there
Be.' Enough to make a scum-sicle hard and
so cold.!
That needs shoving up the innards.'
Through the ether.? And into the nether
Location of the countrys whole.' Complacent
populace..Complicit if not now agahst.? At the sight of America.' Shown on the world stage'
with its pants down at half-mast.! Oh no!
I must say, to the very great; and INDEED!!
Most massuve overpowering...? Farse.)
A new day dawns,
A tired body yawns,
Spawning into reality,
I dream of things to be,
And what may lie in front of me,
As I play with with possibility,
Creating the day wish to see,
Secretly feeling my way,
Staying close to the heart,
I start seeing it all unfold,
Maybe I'll find some gold,
It's cold out there,
I'll find something to warm to wear,
Caring for all my needs,
my body feeds off the love,
Something it can't get enough of,
The sun shining from above,
Shoving light in every pore,
My entity screams for more,
It's charging your core,
With energy to explore,
Just what you came for,
Adventures awaiting your consent,
Now that you've opened your present,
Presenting gifts galore,
A world like never before,
Believe in yourself,
Then step out the door.
A new day dawns,
My Tired body yawns,
Spawning into reality,
I dream of the things to be,
And what lies in front of me.
As I play with possibility,
Creating the day I wish to see,
Secretly feeling my way,
Staying close to my heart.
I start seeing it all unfold,
Maybe I'll find some gold.
It's cold out there,
I'll find something warm to wear,
Caring for all my needs,
My body feeds off the love.
You can't get enough of that,
The sun shining up above,
Shoving light into every pore,
My entity screams for more.
Charging it's core,
With energy to explore,
Just what it came for,
The real adventure,
Venture into your consent.
Open up The Present,
Presenting gifts galore,
A world like never before,
Believe in yourself,
Before you walk out the door.
Who's closest to the Source?
Why children of course,
The new force to evolve this course.
Uncorrupted and pure,
With a connection to who they once were,
Turning another page of their story,
Earning a set of new memories.
Advancing the degree of understanding,
Growing under controlling arms,
Learning not to harm another.
The other just a sister or brother,
Someone to smother with love.
Children rise above every challenge,
Until taught to be dependant,
Starting the descent,
Into asking for consent,
Bending the truth.
Our youth, the key to the future,
They come knowing who they were.
The cycle is closing,
More hearts are opening,
As moments bring us back together,
We remember living forever.
Never to repeat the mistakes,
That take away the treasure,
Of the pleasure life was meant to be.
Children can already see,
Until we train them to be 3D,
Shoving them into a broken Society.
We are all gods family,
And the children are the key,
They come with a plan already.
I love my friends.
I said a solemn vow to myself to protect them.
I ordered that if I can't be the best man I can be to all, I might as well be a protector.
Some days I wonder where we will end up in 10 years,
Looking into each other's expressions.
I just hope I meet them with a smile on my face, and that in the end I dont give them a reason to dread me.
Some days I worry, though.
I worry my love is not enough, or is too much.
I push so hard, I worry about shoving relationships off the edge.
I'm not exactly sure why the people who claim to be friends hang around me.
Its another thing Ive struggled on.
I see myself as a man stranded in a fresh ocean, with no water to drink.
Ignorant to all my own problems.
But I dont get how others can see me different.
I look in the mirror and see the dark circles under my eyes, the coffee-stained yellow teeth, the gray dead eyes that show im in pain.
But one day, I asked my friend what he saw.
He told me “I see the soldier that got to come home”
And since then Ive always wondered..
What war did I fight?
Something’s rumbling inside me
pushing, kicking
shoving, shouting
And it won’t let me go, oh no
It just won’t let me go…
I should consider
Why I was selected for this
But I never do
I accept it as if it
were free airline tickets
Something not to turn down
Something to cash in
Oh yeah, almost forgot
The topic is writing
Yes, writing
Its grip on me
is what sets me free
Casanovas slipping into the red-light tangle;
Forbidden fruits, where temptations dangle.
A carousel sequelae of transient fun,
Shoving precious life through a darkened dungeon.
Herpes, a saboteur of life's quality;
Silent falsehoods, pernicious in totality.
Retrovirus tainting the filthy foray—
Courtesan's fate wrapped in tragic dismay.
The French disease, resurging like a dragon,
Greatest mimicker, its curse on the wagon.
An avalanche of despair, harrowing as the Holocaust;
Fleeting morale fulgurates, bruising life's bitter frost.
Relationships crumble, akin to a precarious card cascade—
An insidious monster of misery, lurking like a ticking grenade.
Dire repercussions of the aftermath,
Grueling the innocent's once-quiet path.
Serenading the cognizant wizard,
Salvaging thyself from a tumultuous blizzard.
Historically the books are written by a well-known writer
The characters are formed to choose the sense of flight or fighter
The library of the mind stows away the facts from the fiction
The sequence of events unfold, memorised with restriction
The nature of the story, can cause the mind to cry
The loss of peaceful innocence in those days gone by
The imagery of barricades in a crowded stark front room
Foreboding silence and tension create a sense of doom
In the old terraced house, there’s a closure of ranks
As the fighter steps forward and the other flanks
The pushing and shoving in the silent stark room
The circle decreases and a flash warps the plume
The memories jagged as they cut like a knife
As she’s hit by the boxer and fights for her life
The dry autumnal street carpets red and gold
The crunch of the leaves cushioned the blow
The flash of the memory vivid and sharp
Innocence held with such disregard
The nature of the story, can cause the mind to cry
The loss of peaceful innocence in those days gone by
A witty saying proves nothing,
Especially in a generation that
Doesn’t tend to be so loving
To one another because of the
Love of money.
So much pushing and shoving.
Illusion is the first of all pleasures.
We constantly dream of personal
Satisfaction, especially when we don’t
Have ourselves together.
A selfish mind has sex with
A woman, then wakes up the next
Morning just to realize that it never
Met her.
I just want to see the day where
I can hold my head up high and
Keep my life together.
My life is a struggle.
I find myself having to juggle
With emotions that are so confused
That they want to snuggle.
The ear is the avenue
To the heart
And the power of the words
Can tame it or tear it apart.
It’s not enough to conquer,
One must learn to seduce.
Seduction is a sexual tactic
Used to daze and confuse.
The masters of it simply
Recycle the same words
To reduce and reuse a-
Forget it.
I’m waiting for an astronaut to save this place.
Like a detective from outer space.
An astronaut is faceless.
And strangely, graceless.
As he bounds over.
I ask what his laser is for.
Or why he’s shoving me through that door.
I ask if I could get a phone call.
He acts scared and almost falls.
It’s not how I expected.
He is someone I once respected.
I wish someone on planet earth would accept our pleas.
But red is all they seem to see.
Racism is like someone shoving a bunch of M&M’s in their mouth and trying hard to convince themselves and others that each color tastes different.
No longer will l sin
Treat my temple like a bin
Shoving all and sundry in
So l will bear and grin
Take it on the chin
To be happy in my skin
Be healthy within
No more biscuits from the tin
Against the bulge l will win
Today l will begin
To do and feel better!
We dream ourselves free and in our pride, we concoct lofty words of praise,
"We are democrats, lovers of liberty, free from prejudice and hate,"
In our furnace, we build the great human experiment, a dream always worthy to follow;
We speak melodiously, with noble sentiment, growing gardens of ideals meant to be seen.
But in reality, we are a vulgar mob, shoving and sharing quarrels,
Where passions are easily stirred by demagogues, media, belief profiteers, agitators.
Blasphemies uttered, this is called "the society of free people"; it's a heavy word,
What can we offer the world but overly full plunder we've stolen from humanity's land?
Under the hallucination that this mad theft can be called progress and bright culture,
We substitute our being in a blind race, too often tempted by subliminal deceit.
Everything is built on the foundation of illusion, a selfish altar on which we sacrifice common sense,
And we lose our hopes and dreams in the abyss of momentary prosperity, the delusion of a lawful happiness.
It's Saturday morning and off we go to the mall
The traffic just to get there is painfully slow
Upon arrival, it seems that parking spots are tough to be found
Up and down the rows of vehicles we finally get a break, someone is homeward-bound
As we enter the mall pushing and shoving start to ensure
We find an opening and make our way through
The list of shops we have to visit is much to long to count
It now seems the headache I just developed has started to mount
My credit card I know will take a pounding today
It is going to take me months just to repay
After a long day, our shopping trip has finally came to an end
Next weekend we will be back here again, this is becoming a trend
clunky chunky unfamiliar words
not easily understood due to their tweets and pops
shoving themselves against my dendrite highway
hidden yet acutely felt
dancing the brain Watusi
I wonder if I will ever write again
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