Birthed From A Bad Place

Nothing,
No one,
And meaningless,
No good,
Worthless,
And useless.

Insignificant,
Pointless,
And empty,
Flawed,
Imperfect,
And valueless.

Can’t get it together,
Having trouble sorting what I’m seeing,
Like what the fuck,
Shit doesn’t add up.

This sorry hide,
Pushed aside,
No not the end,
But getting deathly sick,
From all the bends.

Going once,
Going twice,
Going fucking crazy,
From some psycho that’s shady.

Unhinged,
Certifiable,
And batty,
Ballistic,
Eccentric,
And unbalanced.

Deranged,
Demented,
And loco,
Unsound,
Delusional,
And irrational.

Little bitch gots a secret,
That needs to be spilled,
Little bitch gots things latched on,
That makes him all wrong.

**********

Up goes prayers,
To the only one who cares.

**********

For All Those Still In Bondage

Behind the eye,
Many a thing lies,
The sort of things,
That cause a sting.

It’s dark in here,
But even so,
It’s plain to see,
The savage show.

Images,
Views,
And opinions,
Concepts,
Ideas,
And convictions.

Running around,
Unable to rest,
Demons trying their best,
To ruin what’s left.

It’s a crazy thing,
But from time to time,
Light gets let in,
And infiltrates the dim.

For awhile there,
Are carefree thoughts,
Contentment reigns,
‘Til back in floods pain.

This brain travels,
A rocky road,
Conflicting thoughts,
Cause a spray of gravel.

There are no brakes,
Which makes for a headache,
The only way to force stop,
Is to paint a fantasy backdrop.

To play pretend,
In a fucked-up head,
Make believe so well,
That the devilry mends.

Dear Lucifer

**********

World,
You should see,
What this guy tried,
The last time he lied!
Yeah it looked so pretty,
But it didn’t take long,
Before I saw right through it,
As my brain’s not that itty-bitty.

**********

Your tricks,
Are not gonna happen,
Your lies,
Won’t be taking hold,
I’m not that slow,
I know at the end of that road,
There isn’t really,
A pot of gold.

Get off this ladder,
That is my life,
I won’t be giving you access,
To another rung,
It’s time you step down,
You don’t even have a crown.

It’s not too hard to hide,
From your sorry hide,
You’re not omnipresent,
And to get anything done,
You’ve got to possess,
All the undecent,
In my presence.

Such a sorry,
Piece of shit,
Forever damned,
To be cast,
Into the pit,
You’re just pissed,
Because you’ve no way,
Out of it.

You’d better sharpen your skills,
‘Cuz the war is on,
And I’m not easily killed,
Remember now that proverb,
That a curse without a cause,
Cannot land,
And just so you know,
A hex on me,
Is a waste,
So you may as well,
Call off your lackey post-haste.

You’re not too bright,
You’ve had great moments,
And been brought to great heights,
You’re climbing higher still,
But you know how it ends,
At the final fight,
Your little kingdom,
Is gonna fail,
It gets exposed,
A little more each day,
As we get closer to,
The time you will pay.

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

Your head will become,
Quite the circus,
When everything starts to surface,
It’s totally bizarre,
How it comes from nowhere,
But also everywhere.

No matter who you are,
And where you’re coming from,
You’ve seen some shit,
That you can’t forget,
We pack it away,
Until when one unexpected day,
The feelings left behind,
Spring forth in our mind.

The choicest ones,
Are always amusing,
They’ll take you on,
A wonderful walk,
You’ll smile all rosy,
As if smelling fresh-cut lawn,
Or cinnamon buns.

Some seriously sadden,
So sharply and so strongly,
When you go back there,
Bound wounds open afresh,
And you become such a mess,
That it’s a tad in doubt,
If you’ll manage to crawl out.

The worst will beat you down,
Make you good and angry,
So you wear a frown,
Your blood will begin to boil,
As you recall being treated,
Like a bed of rotting soil.

Once in awhile,
There’ll be one that amazes you,
And makes you wish to travel,
Back to when that one particular,
Was a fresh-made smile.

All the while you’re being assaulted,
With this reminiscing,
Some disappointing,
And others satisfying,
As these recollections flood you,
Mind, body, and soul,
Don’t let them take total control,
No,
Not even the happy moments,
Or you’ll end up going,
Down a deep and depressing hole.

……….But, That’s The Majority……….

Is there anything more irritating,
Than someone who lies,
To and about,
The one who tries?

One is lying,
While the other’s trying,
But who cares if the trier cries?
For sure not the liar……….

And it sure is lies,
When they say you’re loved,
Yet to the farthest corner,
Of their life you’ve been shoved.

Just be there,
When they remember to care,
Just be there,
When they’re down to the bottom,
On their mental list,
Of who might care,
Just be there,
When a slot opens up,
For them to ask “what’s up”?

Be there,
Or else!
You’re packed away,
To the backmost shelf.

Other than that,
Fuck off!
Who do you think you are?
You,
The trier,
Taking up the precious time,
Of the liar.

So, liar,
Now you’re hated,
Because the you you showed,
Has been long awaited,
But this complicated,
Hot then cold,
Is not a friend,
For on that,
No one can depend.

Shock Of The Century

How are you doing lately?
Hanging on by a thread,
Why’s that?
Because I feel like being dead.

Oh no! – Why?
Because that one’s been sly,
Doing what?
Turning his back, making me cry.

Oh! The nerve!
I hope he gets what’s deserved!
Same here!
Although that’s also my fear!

How so?
Because I never chose,
For him to become foe,
Oh, indeed?
Yes – for real,
I rather picture him,
As a knight with a steed.

That sounds like quite the conundrum!
Yes, it’s a problem!
Whatever will you do?
I shall pray,
For he’s one of the precious few.

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.

Two Fourteen

This thing,
“Valentine’s Day”,
It reminds me of those church people,
Who only remember,
On Christmas and Easter,
Who is King and Master.

It does not matter,
What they say,
It’s just stupid,
And it’s always been that way,
It does not matter,
What is said,
If it makes you that excited,
You are fucked in the head.

A heart worth snagging,
Will never be impressed,
By heart shaped boxes,
Maybe I miss my guess,
But if that’s all it takes,
For a fucking yes,
You haven’t won a thing,
Worth all that bragging.

Mr. Fancy Pants,
Is taking her,
To the dinner dance,
How very predictable,
But the rest of the year,
You know they’re miserable.

Making time,
By skipping work,
As if he’s not,
Usually a jerk,
As an added touch,
He’s picked up cheesy flowers,
Knowing it’ll amp up his advantage,
That when you’re out on the town,
You will let your guard down,
Mentally sign yourself up,
Together for another year,
Bound to be,
An even deeper disaster.

Bears and candies,
Line the bar,
When you wake up,
And head for coffee,
In your jammies,
This is supposed to make right,
Every time there’s been a fight,
Please don’t fall for it,
Another fucking year of bullshit.

**********

It’s not the life for me,
I prefer to be free,
You may call it lonely,
But I say,
It sure as shit,
Beats your misery.

**********

Ramifications Of Remaining Silent

First impressions,
Aren’t always right,
I’ve found sweet expressions,
Sometimes hide unsaid confessions,
Someone you think,
Will be a love,
You may have to tell,
To go fly a kite,
Though with an old enemy,
You may eventually,
End up friendly,
Sharing a similar destiny.

We’ve all got things,
We keep hush-hush,
Just remember though,
They’re not all,
Little innocent secrets,
Once we know,
They can deal quite the blow.

Meeting others,
For the very first time,
Lately I’ve learned,
To keep this in mind.

It used to be fun,
Getting to know new someones,
But recently I’ve had to realize,
Enough is enough,
Better to criticize,
Than have wool once again,
Pulled over my eyes.

You think you know,
All there is to know,
About that hoe,
And her friend Joe,
About your beau,
And your long-time foe,
But this so-called knowledge,
Is likely laced with lies,
Just half-truths,
The rest of which,
You’ve chosen to blind your eyes.

Knowing everyone’s complete history,
What they may have done,
And how they actually feel,
It would change both your stories,
And neither of you will ever know,
If it would cause the other,
To become cheery or sorry.

A silver lining……….
Not all untold thoughts,
Are ones that bring things,
Such as shame or strife,
Some if you were to find out,
Would probably change for the better,
Your whole way or walk of life.

For sure,
If more people,
Would become less paranoid,
And make their thoughts speakable,
Rather than keep them classified,
It’s possible we’d attract more like minds,
And with one another,
Become overjoyed,
Rather than always being annoyed.