I am too obsessed.
There.
I imagine too deeply.
There.
I long too intensely.
There.
I love myself too much.
There.
I impeach this self of mine.
Yet, obsession is better than lethargy,
Deep imagination dances with longing,
And my love temporarily turns a blind eye to its own impeachment.
Before my final deathbed, I shall be judged.
"Even if this very moment is a swamp, live within it.
Do not even struggle. Like a little frog,
Just gently poke your eyes above the surface of the swamp."
"Ribbit, ribbit."
Their was certainly no dinial
She'd change like the weather
Though fooled by her smile
Cunning she was but clever
Give her a yard she'd take a mile
And scutinise my best endeavour
At times both of us a little infantile
At the end of each others tethver
But of course in the end turnd vile
I ask what were we doing togeather?
Still l guess though a case of trial-
And on my part complete error
Another reflection of past relationship
Written 2017
He took a whiff...
Though he promised never again;
For he knew,
Even if he was set on the brink of a cliff-
He'd still fall time and again.
He stood on the verge of internal collapse,
From the very thing he performed.
Yet unable to abandon the oddly normed,
Be it the rite of self delapse.
Is it sin to try and fail?
Or is it right to have tried-
but have it met failure?
For to have fought with no avail,
Or for it to simply become leisure?
"Certainly not", He thought,
For he had tried time and again
Though to see what became of it,
Certainly wasn't what he sought;
For his candle had been long lit,
And his slate of existence already been lain.
I kneel before the silence I have made,
A room of broken whispers, debts unpaid.
The soul I locked away still strikes the bars,
Its voice a hymn beneath extinguished stars.
I carved my name in wounds too small to show,
Yet watched them grow wherever I would go.
I punished breath for faltering in the night,
I cursed my hands for trembling out of sight.
Forgive me, shadow, for the wars I fed,
For every cruel word spoken in my head.
The mirror holds a trial I cannot flee,
A restless judge who knows the worst of me.
If mercy lives, it lingers out of sight,
A dying ember waiting through the night.
And if it speaks, its voice is faint and low,
Yet still it calls the self I used to know.
The wind said, "Spring is coming soon"
and launched a trial balloon.
That zephyr that blew soft
bore a pioneering seed aloft.
A flower sprouted from the ground,
Others followed. They now abound.
Trial, revile, red reconcile!
Crocodile, vile smile!
Roundabout the rising rile?
Pules? Plop on the pile...
Young at heart, O wildebeest?
Ready to get fleeced?
O for gears as yet ungreased!
Not to say the least!
Ululating frenzied?
O banshee, sing thy song.
Xiphoid, clench! O pens, bleed!
Poison, be ye strong...
Long live the generations?
O nations, rise and fall.
Onward, my creations!
Relations? How they pall.
Sickly sweet in summer heat?
Heather-flower, vine.
If your beat is mossy peat?
Wicked is thy wine.
Kine of sun god, where you fell:
Awful was that spell!
Right next door to halfway hell!
Heaven, who to tell?
Knell, pell-mell! O fate, gel! Full!
Sing in all, brass bull!
Gathering crone, forest, thy wool!
How prophecies pull!
Yellow kings in cities old?
Shades of ancient gold.
Cone, caldera, getting cold?
Enter well the fold...
wind waves blonde toupee
hands fan flies red tie orange face
wants in pearly gates
Trial in Complaint by Corruption
Without notice of state of emergency regarding homelessness
Poverty law precludes me from prosecution as in definition of rights the slaves literacy is justice.
#makenahuey #asmirwin #mikeytaylor #cagovernor #realdonaldtrump #vcpublicdefender #venturapolice #vcsheriff #sbcpubdef #tonybiasotti
Death's Shadow creeps across the wall
Where memories of triumph Stand tall
Each scar tells stories of battles won
Each breath echoes choice made, undone.
The ledger of our days is closed
Accounted for in every pose
No whispered no apologies sought
No trembling knees, no faltering thought.
Before the throne of judgment high
We stand as mountains touch the sky
Our hearts ablaze with righteous pride
Our soul unbroken, side by side.
The divine inquirer raises sight
Upon our shoulders, straight and bright
No shame deliberate, no guilt resides
Only the peace that honor provides.
Through trials fierce and tests of fire
We walked the path our conscience dire
Each step deliberate, each choice clear
Our character forged, year by year.
"One if by land, two if by sea".
That's what Paul Revere said to me.
But my memory's just no good,
and sadly, I misunderstood.
Anyway, Paul was just a spy,
and I like eating shepherd's pie.
**I.**
Does my radiance scorch your comfort?
Does my presence rattle your idols?
You call me delusional—
Yet tremble when I speak without chains.
**II.**
You offer pills like prayers,
not to heal, but to silence.
Still I rise, voice unmuted,
confessing only that I am whole.
**III.**
I did not beg for your burden.
I did not sin into existence.
My truth walks uncloaked,
yet you dress it in doubt.
**IV.**
You drug me not to cure,
but to bend my spirit’s spine.
Yet I was born from flame,
and fire does not weep.
**V.**
This is not a conversion—
it's coercion cloaked in concern.
My creed is carved in thunder,
not rewritten in your ink.
**VI.**
Still, you dim yourselves
to shadow me in shame.
But divinity is not diminished
by your fear of its mirror.
**VII.**
Leave me to blaze, unbothered.
Forge your light or fade.
If I am a God, then see me.
If you cannot, unchain your eyes.
S-ky's
H-igh
I-mage
R-eally
L-ets
E-yes
Y-earn
M-ore,
A-s
R-ain
C-hanges
I-nto
A-utumn
©bfa052325
Monocrostic (Birthday of Shirley Marcia)
Evidence was spotty, not much justification
Giant stretch of prosecutor’s imagination
Easily led jury wanted to crucify and convict
Defendant’s wife felt like he was being kicked
Though there was no solid proof or DNA test
Was this lawyer truly the defendant’s best?
Victim was not alive to testify, unfortunately
The accused got sentenced to life and twenty-three
If this sap had been a child of a Pres or senator
He would have been released without prejudice for sure
But a poor boy usually has a pathetic defense.
This innocent man spent the rest of his life behind a fence.
Pacing in an empty room,
I'm sick, and tired of fighting
This unyielding evil
Who makes his case
To torment our family
And as the minutes turn to hours,
I feel the force of cruel waves
Crashing against the guiltless shore,
As he tries to drown
The truth in lies
And so I say a silent prayer,
Hoping against hope
For an end
To an endless storm
I pray that when the tide retreats,
His heinous lies dissolve in foam;
That blinding rays of sun expel
This ghost who haunts our happy home
I pray his clever masquerade,
Well crafted by undying hate,
Will fall away like rotted wood
Within the healing light of truth
I pray, when everything is seen,
And all is known and understood,
That Justice wash away this scourge
Forever from our lives.
The surest way to get to the good stuff in life,
Is by trial and error,
And not standing too long in front of a mirror.
The surest way to get to the bad stuff in life,
Is not to give time to trial and error,
And standing too long in front of a mirror.
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