Inconceivable Saint

Exhausted and worn out and spent,
An angel of the highest Lord was sent,
One more miracle,
Left to perform,
So his halo,
Could continue to glow.

He slowly walked along,
Dragging ass,
While his mind sung a song,
Paying no attention really,
By the way,
His name was Beautiful,
And so he was……….really.

Inside and out,
A deliverer sent from above,
To bring faith and hope and love,
Was what he was truly about.

God spelled backwards,
He was man’s best friend,
That’s why he was just perfect,
For his master’s latest project.

The Messiah’s expectations,
Were seven wondrous happenings per day,
Fixing frustrations,
And making generous donations,
When they were done,
He would make meticulous notations.

It happened that today,
This angel was looking to perform his last sensation,
In order to stay worthy,
Of his current station,
Under the Holy Master.

So with that his mind was occupied,
But even so,
Soon he smelled some greasy goodness,
And saw a sign,
Saying that to eat something fried,
One only had to walk on inside.

This may not seem,
Like a likely way,
To find something,
That needs a miracle,
But he did,
He found the someone,
He was intended to,
And they looked downright pitiful.

When he eyed the bar,
We can all relate,
To what that unlikely messenger saw,
Hunched over a plate.

Tattered and torn,
And the tears in the eyes,
Made the person appear forlorn,
So the dog ran up,
And got between the person,
And their cup.

Sitting on the chair,
Beside the one going through,
A living nightmare,
He woofed and wagged,
Until their shoulders,
No longer sagged.

Soon they started to talk,
Pouring out their woes,
And though this was an angel,
Who could not speak,
It healed their heart,
So they could forge a new start.

Before leaving,
He was offered for reward,
A mouthwatering meal,
And when he finally cleared out,
From God he got,
The day’s final seal.

Mission accomplished!
Thought he with satisfaction,
Now he’d corrected a deep sorrow,
And would be permitted,
To work miracles on Earth again tomorrow.

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.

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.

Angels Await

**********

Super short,
Oh so fucking beautiful,
At times full of shit,
This accurately describes,
Each of them,
But even now,
I’ve a love for them,
That will never quit.

**********

Beyond the clouds,
These two wait for me,
And right now,
I look up from below,
Wishing that I too could go.

About now they’re walking,
Streets of gold,
Called names like Glory Road,
And Hallelujah Boulevard,
Pretty as any picture,
On a Pacific Island postcard.

I wonder what they do,
Now that trouble,
Isn’t able to be gotten into?
Because they’re Earthly behavior,
I’m sure isn’t tolerated,
By any Angels or the Savior.

I sure hope the boy is over his fear,
And lets the pony near,
Because together,
Is always so much better.

Truth be told,
They may be better off,
Up there as they trod down,
Golden roads,
Time will pass,
But they will stay as they are,
Never growing old.

Most call retirement,
The best years of their lives,
But I don’t return that sentiment,
As the years after being laid,
Into graves,
Is the only time we’re thoroughly released,
From being this world’s slaves.

Of course I wish for them back,
That cannot be helped,
But when it’s making me feel down,
I imagine them there,
Wearing their jeweled crowns,
And gone from their faces,
Are those ever-present frowns,
They seemed too frequently to wear,
When they lived with me here.

**********

I guess it’s a giant place,
With plenty to see and do,
But still I’ll be insulted,
If I find when it’s my time,
That they never looked back down,
Glancing out beyond space,
For a reassuring glimpse of my face.

**********

The Fate Of The Attractive

It’s constant paranoia,
And makes a mind miserable,
Can cause gaps not bridgeable,
It’s in a way terrible,
Really,
Being so pretty.

And that’s not snobbery,
It’s pure and simple fact,
Brought to light by comments,
And the way total strangers react.

You can’t begin,
To imagine the bullshit,
Take as example,
The way other humans,
Will lie or throw a fit,
Without reason,
Just to take your name and trample it.

Personality plain and simple,
This lady once,
Was brought up by peoples,
Stuffed to the gills with oppressions,
And the results are this,
Her unsurpassed beauty,
Brings on sporadic depressions.

It sure would be good,
Going for something to eat,
Without being looked at,
As though she was the meat,
By someone she doesn’t even,
Ever want to meet.

Let’s see,
If this can be worded correctly,
To make you know,
All strangers are suspect,
Because her mind,
She must protect.

With a friendly shoulder touch,
She didn’t want to,
But smiled and said hi,
To the odd individual,
Day in and day out,
She ignores the looks he gives,
Because she finds him pitiful,
And knows he just wants her,
To lay claim on the one they all call beautiful.

This is daily dealings,
Trying not to hurt too many feelings,
Hers must stay on mute,
Lest she be labeled as trouble, drama, and problem,
Eventually,
For sanity’s sake,
She’s desperate to get a break,
All this acting cute,
To those whose balls deserve a heavy boot,
It sickens her,
And she’s not sure,
How much longer it can occur.

Done,
Just so fucking done,
She refuses to fight an uncalled-for battle,
That shouldn’t need to be won,
So she will withdraw,
And stick with those,
Who walk on hooves and paws.

I’ll Just Leave This Right Here For Y’all…….

http://slacker.com/r/Cdvg5Q

True Story

Hi,
From the backseat of a car,
From a little girl,
Almost in tears,
Aged maybe ten years.

Do your eyes see,
What mine are seeing?
I don’t think I’m dreaming,
But I tried,
And it’s no use screaming,
No one will listen,
For this black sheep,
It’s no use uttering even a peep.

Up ahead,
Tangled in exhaust fumes,
I see dragons and monsters,
So fast they drift away,
Between cars and truck trailers.

This was to be,
Her first remembered encounter,
With things of the spirit realm,
And who,
Pray tell,
Was at the helm?

They sure weren’t wearing,
Any kind of disguise,
But even so were seen only,
By this girl’s eyes.

She tried telling mommy,
But was told to shut up,
To just stop making up,
Another crazy story,
So she zipped her lips,
And as mommy didn’t heed the warning,
The spirits got their opening.

**********

Hindsight now says there’s no doubt,
That the source of origination,
Was those peoples she saw earlier,
They were all dressed in black,
And at the same time as her,
Decided they needed,
To have a little snack.

Eyeing her party up and down,
While wearing smirks and frowns,
Details of what transpired,
May never be known,
But apparently they were able to acquire,
All that was required,
Before the girl left town.

**********

Not much time passed,
Maybe days,
Possibly a couple of weeks,
Since the spell was cast,
And apparently demons attached.

One night Grammie,
Decided to come with the girl,
And her sister and mommy,
It’s been too long,
To really remember,
What was the errand,
That to this day,
Could make ones hair,
Stand on end.

It must have gotten late,
For it was dark,
When a man tried,
To make them his mark.

On a two lane road,
In a little New England town,
They were on the way home,
When the semi ahead stopped dead.

Dead in the center,
Of a two lane road,
Then he got out,
And they didn’t really know,
What this was about.

Bad things could be felt,
As soon as he stepped down,
From the cab,
So with a frown,
Mommy prayed,
As he sauntered towards,
Their little car,
It made no sense,
At the time,
But by now the grown-up little girl knows,
He was on assignment,
To cause them harm,
Maybe even death,
To reap earthly rewards.

He was almost up to the window,
So mommy rolled it down,
Stuck out her head,
And asked him why was he stopped?
What was so bad up there ahead?

He said something,
It made no sense,
As it was of course nonsense,
Telling mommy her car lights,
Were blinding his sights.

Then he turned tail,
Got back in his truck,
Oh what luck!
Driving off to who knows where,
But at least he got,
The hell away from there.

Within days of that brush,
With certain torture and death,
Lord it’s been so long,
There’s no way to remember,
If it was before or after,
But Satan himself was there,
For she heard what recently was confirmed,
As his laughter.

Driving along,
A country road,
It was curvy,
And the grass hadn’t been mowed.

There were woods all around,
And at some point,
Mommy’s car acted up,
Out of nowhere,
It started making scary sounds.

Around the corner,
There was a big dirt area,
Where cars could pull over,
So mommy turned in,
And right away from the forest,
Came a deep manly voice,
Saying ‘HA-HA-HA’,
It was loud and clear,
And pissed off the little girl,
The moment it hit her ears.

She rolled down her window,
And at the top of her lungs,
Told that man to shut up,
In the rudest way she knew how.

Mommy may have known,
Who was out there,
Because she freaked right out,
Frantically yelling “Roll that window up!
We’ve got to get home”!

**********

It’s been a few decades,
Since these episodes,
But life being life,
It’s been a bumpy road.

There’s a war out there,
And it’s all supernatural,
The more that’s learned,
The more this and that,
From the past,
To her mind it all returns.

So lucky to be,
One of the few,
Whose eyes got opened,
Who knows everything is magical,
Though only some’s from Heaven,
So be aware,
The rest comes to you,
From the depths of Hell.

**********

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.

Made Possible By Snowmen

A Christmas wreath,
Flying through the air like a frisbee,
Grabbed by an unseen hand,
Settled on top of,
A pudgy snowman.

The snowman shook her head,
She was confused,
Feeling something around her head,
She reached up to unseat it,
But it had become fused.

Her head began to tingle,
Where the wreath sat,
And then the bells attached,
The wind made them start to jingle.

Every year,
The very same wreath,
Floats down from the air,
And picks out a snowman,
To help with Mrs. Santa’s Plan.

Someone at the North Pole needs a snowman,
One that isn’t made,
Of their magic snow,
So Mrs. Clause sends out this wreath,
To gather one that she can’t reach.

During Mr. Clause’s,
Christmas Eve run,
Mrs. Santa has things,
She needs to get done,
For something in particular,
She’ll need the help of this one.

You see snow from the outside,
Is the only thing,
That can make things go unseen,
And she wants to hide.

No!
It’s not like that!
She’s not doing anything shady,
But those elves are nosy,
And she wants time to herself,
For a cozy evening,
Like a regular old lady.

So up and away,
Flew the snowman,
And when she landed,
In that Far North Land,
She was greeted by the twin,
Of Santa’s famous deer Vixen.

“My Lord”!
She exclaimed,
Upon looking around,
“I’ve never seen,
So many like myself before”!

“Ah, but they’re not like you”,
Said the twin of Vixen,
“Ours are made with stuff magical,
And cannot do the job,
We’ve collected you to do”.

And so in the short time it took,
To deliver her,
To the Clause’s door,
He provided swiftly,
A brief North Pole history.

Mrs. Clause heard them coming,
And threw open the door,
Calling out a merry greeting,
Around the mouthful of Christmas cookie,
She was eating.

Now Vixen’s twin plodded off,
And the non-magical snowman,
Was left with just Mrs. Clause,
Who explained she needed a night to relax,
A total break,
From the whole Christmas act.

“The elves would take this as a sign,
Of great disrespect,
And my husband would worry,
I wasn’t taking our job seriously,
So year after year,
I bring one of you here,
For the snow you’re made of,
Gives off a poison shine,
And if elves look upon it,
Their eyes go temporarily blind”.

So the non-magical snowman,
Was asked by Mrs. Clause to guard,
Posted right at the property’s edge,
So the elves’ views of the place,
For the next twenty-four hours,
Would be barred.

All throughout the coming day,
That woman had a ball,
She had,
After all,
Waited a whole year,
For this day to fall.

Half was spent lazing about,
Watching un-Christmassy things on her telly,
Then she cooked and ate unhealthy cuisine,
Like sausages with sour kraut,
Before taking time out,
To read a book,
Instead of being,
The elves’ cook.

Peeking out her front window,
She saw the non-magical snowman,
Was still there keeping watch,
But the time was up,
On this trick,
She must get ready,
For the arrival of St. Nick.

It would be another year,
Before she would again be clear,
Of dear Mr. Clause,
And before he showed his face,
The evidence of what happens in his wake,
She must be sure to erase.

For of course Santa Himself,
Would be able to see through,
The non-magical snowman,
As he’s much more powerful than an elf.

Let me tell you gladly,
It does not end badly,
For those flown in to assist,
Mrs. Santa makes damn sure,
They are compensated for helping her,
She turns them magical,
Rather than returning them,
To where the first sign of warmth,
Would have them die a death most tragical.