Killer Silence

At times it seems,
My head’s went all-out insane,
No one can tell,
The total hell,
One has been through,
As they judge,
And push their views,
From downright different shoes.

I felt it slide,
Across my side,
Creating a big divide,
It was a sword I swear,
For I felt a blade tear,
Though one was never there.

I thought a bumble bee,
Had done and got me,
So bad was the sting,
And something sure did pierce me through,
But when I went,
To pull it out,
No stinger,
Was anywhere about.

I felt the weight,
And the roller skate,
As I got bowled over,
I was plainly bruised and shaken,
And things were broken,
Even though,
You can’t see nothin’.

I’ve become deaf,
From its sound,
Though my ears,
Hear just fine,
Because it’s everywhere,
And it’s all the time,
Nothing shuts it off,
So they are blocked.

I’m crippled from the bullet,
Shot through my back,
And it has thrown me,
Far off track,
The deck seems stacked against me,
Though to those looking in,
Nothing unusual’s been goin’ down.

My eyes have converted,
They now see with my mind,
Which renders me blind,
I gotta say,
It’s very scary,
Seeing clearly,
But with eyes,
Blind as blueberries.

Help,
Is just around the corner,
Help,
Is just around the bend,
But time is of the essence,
And though to the Help,
It’s right on time,
The sufferer isn’t sure,
How to survive,
‘Til its deferred appearance.

All Over The Place

Better to be sure they know,
Than let them speculate,
So what if through their narrow-minded sight,
You’re no longer great.

How much,
Does one good man cost?
Count it up,
Maybe it’s good he’s lost.

The black and white,
Covered is small,
It’s the grey areas,
That apply to almost all.

Little does he know,
She knows his deepest knows,
It’s practically transparent,
The way to her,
The unseen flows,
So good luck tryin’ to hide it!

Why does the rain,
Have to bring joint pain?
When it can wash away all else,
From golden grain,
To an enormous freight train?

The fat man,
Who thinks he’ll win,
Judging others’s sins,
Is about to see,
The outcome spin.

When all else has failed,
A dog prevails,
Friends ’til the end,
No matter what,
Comes next around the bend.

Broken,
And never again,
Will believe words spoken,
At any rate,
None from hinting men.

But in the meantime it sucks,
‘Cuz in the meantime there’s the waiting,
And in the meantime there’s the not knowing,
Oh yes that’s fucking irritating!

Hi, it’s me,
The one always cast aside,
Like a seashell stuck in sand,
After the high tide.

Do you think that maybe,
The sun has a smell?
And it is actually possible,
For it to be hotter than Hell?

The color of chocolate brown,
Should be warm and inviting,
But they’re cold and icy,
Even when they’re spicy,
And looking at you nicely.

The match is worn out,
And the embers are dying,
Yet all throughout the air,
A fire is flying.

At the bottom of the ocean,
Many treasures lie,
But is the risk worth it,
If it’s just going to make you die?

A big fat waste,
Of our fucking time,
But somehow us people,
Keep being just that blind.

Coming home,
Such a joke,
All that’s there is you,
The one whom deserves to choke.

It’s not the person you miss,
But the emotions that were felt,
From their essence,
While you were in their presence.

Just expect it,
The sweet will soon,
Melt away,
Like cotton candy,
Overtaken,
By a rocky road,
Then be on its way,
Leaving you shaken and forsaken.

If there wasn’t snow,
I would go,
Reckon,
I’d be there in a second.

Spiritual Warfare

Almost,
I’m used to it,
But almost doesn’t count,
Proof being when the thoughts,
Come flooding back,
With their malevolent attack.

Sneaking in,
Through the backdoor of my brain,
Causing my head to hear crazy,
I see why some of the weaker ones,
Go insane.

I get it,
How that one became deranged,
Why he chose his own day to die,
Uncaring he would cause,
Us to cry.

It’s making sense now,
Why some do things,
That make the rest of us speechless,
Except for maybe,
A “what the fuck” or a “wow”.

Things are crystal clear now,
How some people,
Seem to suddenly go dumb,
Throwing tantrums,
Like one who still,
Sucks upon his thumb.

It’s just hit me,
Like a ton of bricks,
How it is that demons,
Managed to take over,
The way his mind ticks.

It’s becoming understandable,
Why they say their head is, like……….,
But can’t find the words,
After all,
Heads are not expandable,
So inevitably all of this commotion,
Will one day lead to an explosion.

Presently it’s plain as day,
The reason one day he’s normal,
The next he’s doing shit unfathomable,
Going quickly,
From angel to infernal.

Currently,
I myself feel it,
And it’s in no way pleasant,
I want to rave and rant,
But must remain silent,
For to project this everywhere,
Laying it all bare,
What would be the point?
When without a doubt,
No one even cares.

The who and what and when and where and why,
They don’t even matter,
It’s impossible to think,
The way the thoughts are stirred together,
Like a gone-wrong batter.

Almost,
I’m used to it,
But almost doesn’t count,
Proof being when the feelings,
Won’t go away,
No matter how much we pray.

Tel Mah

So much fun,
And isn’t the attachment rare?
Even so,
I don’t care,
That was yesterday,
But as for today……….I hate you.

Will it change?
I guess that depends,
On how you play your game,
All the innings should be,
Just like the beginning,
Once you stop sowing,
You quit reaping,
As then you’re not worth keeping.

If you turn to slime,
I stop wasting time,
Better halt the acting like,
I’m some gruesome daily grind,
Rather than a relaxing relief,
For your fucked-up mind.

Everyone wants to have their cake,
And eat it too,
And here’s that chance,
Pretty much offered to you,
On a silver platter,
Better figure out,
What’s the matter,
Before it dries up,
Like a dead tree stump.

Whether the near future brings,
A sickening sting,
Or a sunny song to sing,
I guess we shall see,
Which you’ll make be.

Is staying miserable,
All you can handle?
Or can you shut that door,
And move on to what’s in store?
The unknown isn’t really,
All that scary,
I speak from experience,
And P.S.,
This thing isn’t just coincidence.

Are And Dee

Like an angry wind,
He stirs things up,
Makes people’s minds bend,
Like a tree bowed over double,
Amid a storm’s leftover rubble.

She follows him,
Like a loyal dog,
Pleasing his every whim,
For her card’s pulled,
From the same deck,
And it’s not that hard.

What a life they lead,
Nosy, nosy, nosy,
Laughing ’til their cheeks are rosy,
Happiest when meddling,
Putting on,
A Christian facade,
Thinking they’re not sinning.

Pretty is,
As pretty does,
These are two,
Downright ugly slimy slugs.

Oh it sickens those,
Who’ve been bruised,
By their ruse,
But what can we do?
Other than pray they stray,
From their wicked ways.

Solo Confidence

The little boat,
Drifts along,
In its heart,
Beats a psycho song,
Full of anger,
Full of angst,
Mad then sad,
It goes far beyond bad.

The song appears,
To come and go,
Caused by whatever weather,
Has determined,
The river’s flow,
But from the banks,
We never know,
To what extent,
It’s taken its toll.

Look it over closely,
Before taking the little boat,
Out for a drive,
Look every day,
In case a storm showed up,
And riled its waters,
While you were elsewhere,
And it needs a repair.

You can’t know for sure,
At only a glance,
So why take the chance?
From where you’re at,
There’s no telling,
If winds were blowing,
Making holes that aren’t showing,
But will be made known,
After you’ve taken it,
Away from its home.

You must remember,
The storm has no friends,
It tosses every boat,
In its path,
And some are made,
To resist its wrath,
But some just can’t withstand,
A strong storm’s demands.

Though it’s controversial,
Technically,
Boats are optional,
And it’s more than acceptable,
To let that boat,
Be for someone else to float.

Though the river is mandatory,
How one navigates it,
Is their own little story,
A boat is escapable,
If you’re capable.

All Cut Up

Intensely felt,
Gashed down deep,
But unable to bleed,
Caused by a thing,
It feels like from which,
There’s no being freed.

It’s immense,
Needing stitches,
Though it won’t be sewn shut,
The best of soothing salves,
Can’t begin to mend the halves.

Weighted down,
By something not seen just felt,
Nearing now to the bottom,
Not quite but almost drowned.

Invisible,
But so powerful,
Easy to forget it isn’t obvious,
Since it’s gathered you such an audience.

Uncomfortable,
As a broken bone,
It assures,
You never feel at home,
Though you know it’s just in your mind,
And indeed,
You’re in reality just fine.

It seems fake,
Compared with headaches or toothaches,
You’ll be told to suck it up,
And made to feel like a fuck-up.

All too common,
Because society is rotten,
Sick in the head,
Is what will be said,
An insult,
That will make you see red.

Never talking of emotions,
Always leads up to explosion,
Tragic though,
That you must choose between,
Being wrecked,
Or causing some bullshit commotion.

What A Terrible, Terrible Man!

Maurice Michaels,
Is he cursed,
Or is it patterns and cycles?

Maurice Michaels,
Any lady,
Who’s tried that man,
Has turned tail and ran.

Maurice Michaels,
King of all psychos,
Calls cute sweethearts,
Little hoes.

Maurice Michaels,
Denies the King of Kings,
Meanwhile,
He’s got absolutely nothing.

Maurice Michaels,
Likes to stare,
At the pretty lady,
Who for him,
Will never care.

Maurice Michaels,
Sickeningly shady,
And with a personality,
Straight from hell.

Maurice Michaels,
Lacks self esteem,
What he wants,
Will never make it,
Past a dream.

Maurice Michaels,
Without willpower,
Picks on others,
Can’t do shit for himself,
So studies habits,
And makes fun of another’s.

Maurice Michaels,
A big round belly,
The rest of him well balanced,
He looks so silly.

Maurice Michaels,
Never was one more rude,
And just so happens,
He’s also a prude.

Maurice Michaels,
Has a heart of stone,
All he does,
Is piss and moan.

Maurice Michaels,
Always willing,
To lend an ear,
To someone wanting,
To laugh and sneer.

Maurice Michaels,
Sends out bad vibes,
They mirror,
Where his heart resides.

Maurice Michaels,
Is one fucked up guy,
Never has one,
Told more lies.

Maurice Michaels,
Doesn’t know how to have fun,
He may as well be done.

Maurice Michaels,
Is spiritually blind,
To the devil,
His soul has been signed.

Maurice Michaels,
A first class jerk,
Not worth the work.

You May As Well Convulse Into Hysterics

Why so serious?
Why all mysterious?
Let laughter overcome you,
Fill you up,
Body and soul,
It’s one of the rare things,
That can make a broken soul whole.

Its presence,
Heightens the appeal,
Of a personality,
I look for it,
To come from deep inside the belly,
To consume the whole being,
So much so,
Mind and body become unworkable.

After quick observation,
If one doesn’t possess it,
And would rather stress,
Or beocme depressed,
Communication,
Must come to cessation.

It’s like some peoples,
Have a stick up their ass,
The temperament,
So ramrod straight,
They’re very easy to hate.

I knew someone once,
Humorless and solemn,
Who would have been,
One in a million,
Except he didn’t know,
How to laugh and relax,
So he had to be told,
To make tracks.

One of those all-natural cures,
That’s been around for years,
But no one uses it these days,
Without first checking it over,
Thirty-thousand ways.

A real miracle medicine,
All it’s values are pretty impressive,
It even stops excessive aggression,
Preventing you from committing sins,
Amongst other things.

Better to be loud and bold,
Than cowed and cold,
Despite what you may have been told,
Go ahead,
Get drunk on it,
Altogether lose your head,
Save the gloom,
For your own private tomb.

Huh

Is it worth it?
Time will tell,
If it’s the path to peace,
Or another highway to hell.

Similar situations,
Always cause such irritations,
But it takes a leap of faith,
To sort through the rakes,
And since someone must do it,
Here I go,
Sorting through it.

Funny how,
A split-second decision,
Made in the here and now,
Can either complete your vision,
Or cause in your life,
A major collision.

Unfortunate how,
You cannot know,
Until riches flow,
Or you’re dealt the blow.

Last I checked,
Hindsight is supposed to be perfect,
They call it twenty-twenty,
But would foresight really be disastrous?
Or also fucking fantastic?

How horrendous,
The former always shows its face,
Way too fucking late,
And the latter only exists,
For those with special gifts.

**********

Something to think about,
As you wear yourself out,
Waiting, waiting, waiting,
To see what’s the ending:
Is that your faith that’s bending?
In turn making your mind,
Do some overextending?

**********