Saturday, April 30, 2011
When sisters kill the day for rest,
-day to get dressed.
To stare into a half broken mirror
That once before eviction belonged to Stella
Blue light bulbs rest by day.
Blue light bulbs are blind
They do not see their sisters’ unswept abode
Sisters slaughter smell with 'deos' cheaply bought
From down town illegal dealer
With hardy earned dollar bills.
Blue light bulbs sense of smell is blunt.
Blue light bulbs do not see
Neither the pants stashed into drawers
Stained with used oil in the showers,
Nor creased dresses spilling from an almost ripped up basket
To evade the dusty floor
Just before the clock strikes an evening three.
Blue light bulbs neither hear nor see
But I’m sure they can shade some dim light
On men’s pants lying tight
Each night in their blue bright
Cause blue light bulbs and sisters are one
They rest by day and work by night.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
They fly away when you try
To scribble a riddle
Or describe a nettle.
Words are like an eel,
They are slippery still,
If well put they may heal,
The soul of a beloved ill.
Take words for a thief
That has taken the wife of a thief
And may get caught if,
He has come to a dead end, the cliff.
Words sometimes bite
With their ironical might.
They may provoke a fight
Or keep one awake all night.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Did he do it on purpose
Put a Dark Spot on a Blue Planet
And let the World treat its people like they are 'worthless'
what was he thinking
was he thinking
Because, me thinking
But me stop thinking
Because what me thinks...
myt send me to a hot place
After someone rings the death knell
That place rhymes so well
which contains the liquid I'll so very much yearn for
in the domain of the Angel that Fell
But since i'm going there anyway
for all I've been doing
please end my pursuing
He didn't plan it
He didn't do it on purpose
He didn't put a Dark Spot on a Blue Planet
and make us worthless
Friday, April 22, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Breathe and think
Don’t mind the clock’s tick
Think of picking up tick by tick
Never do look at Dick
Fumbling-chewing away his pencils stick
Composure is the tick
To grab, in an exam, at each tick.
Say your short prayer
Not loud, not silent, but fair
Then take your pen and prepare
Jotting all you have with care
Not to doodle doodle away the day.
With the first hours chime
Panic not, cheat not, its a crime
Stare at the time
And with each second write in rhyme
After all is done
Breathe and think
That all you have won.
Friday, April 15, 2011
minions mutilated and murdered millions
that had opposing opinions
He slept smiling while broken mothers wept
crying over what was left
screams serenaded him
in his violent dreams
fishermen and Fishers of Men pulled dead fish and body parts out of
orators no longer spoke words with ease
everything shivered even birds in trees
The Serpent slithered
taking in the picturesque scene
no longer green: Life's flower withered....
Monday, April 11, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
I cannot bear this,
I will not bear this.
I am troubled.
What will I tell him?
How can I reveal it?
I’ve been robbed,
I’m no longer myself,
Not exactly as I felt.
My brother is angry.
He cannot stand it.
My life is on standby, paused,
Not ready to be presumed.
My sanctuary is rotten,
Suffering pain from being rode on.
I don’t feel the same,
As I will not, never again play this game.
Who will like my appearance?
Or who will carry this disturbance.
My life has been battered
Like a hot knife through butter.
I’m still to decide,
If I can perform suicide.
I can’t wait tom live any-more
I can’t live my life any low.