Ha! Or Not!

Through and through,
It was solid,
You were certain,
Until things were revealed,
When up went the curtain.

Turns out underneath was tarnished,
And the gold was only varnish,
A coating so thin,
It could be cracked,
By just the prick of a pin.

Well it’s dreadfully degrading,
To an object’s rating,
When the cracked paint is peeling,
Being stripped away,
From floor to ceiling.

Ripped from it,
Faster and faster,
No stopping once it’s started,
Leaving it and all associated,
So very broken-hearted.

It’s been stripped bare,
There’s none left now,
But a stubborn speck,
Here or there.

Solid gold,
Was a facade,
A cover-up,
For something majorly flawed.

Black Ice

Hiding ,
An invisible danger,
It looks shiny and pretty,
Too late you see the light,
When you’ve already lost the fight.

Sure looks strong enough to hold,
But you’ll find it slippery,
And able to run you off course quickly,
Light fades to dark,
In the beat of a heart.

Once it’s grabbed all four wheels,
And taken full control,
This drive that started out serene,
Now it’s gonna get,
Nasty and mean.

It looked like nothing,
In the dead of night,
But little by little,
You comprehend that it’s chuckling,
While you it’s cutting.

Manipulation,
Thrilling to chilling,
In the blink of an eye,
Laughter’s changed to crying,
And living carefree’s been replaced,
With wishing for dying.

A glowing glare,
Fills your eyes,
So when you stare,
You’re rendered blind,
Free falling into the snare,
Without chance to react,
You become trapped.

It may melt,
On a sunny day,
But eventually,
Clouds always accumulate,
And therefore,
It’ll never regulate.

Glassy and slick,
Impossible to get a good grip,
You had it for a magnificent minute,
Until an unknown plight,
Caused it to take flight.

Super hard to handle,
A real danger to cross,
Causing much suffering and loss,
Are you ready yet for the exchange,
From snow boots to sandals?

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.

**********

Plot Twist!

Wait,
I thought it was set in stone?
Sewn up tighter than a drum?
…..But now this has come!

In truth,
Something from the situation,
Has always been a little aggravating,
Though a finger couldn’t ever,
Quite be put on it,
What can I say,
It’s always also,
Been plain as day,
And a subject for which I pray.

Now arrives this curveball,
Thrown at me from nowhere,
So unexpected,
But not actually a problem,
And I assure you,
If it’s the answer,
It won’t get rejected.

This can only go,
One of two ways,
And I’m counting the days,
‘Til this is the past,
And good for a few laughs.

Such a delicate decision,
With two top-notch choices,
But only one can win,
And so an invisible,
Battle begins.

To be sure,
Not one knows,
What’s going on,
But me and the,
Almighty God.

With a war in the spirit,
And only one truly right answer,
Letting Him provide it,
Prevents the choice,
From being a cancer.

Soon the solid rock will surface,
None will be winners,
But none will be losers,
His holy will will win,
And forever after,
The life He intends,
Will endure to the end.

Words Can’t Describe…..

It isn’t the first time,
And it won’t be the last,
Yet each sting,
Is worst than ones past.

Whirlwinds,
That are absolutely,
Stomach-turning,
Are they of God or Satan?
Maybe a little of both,
Either way,
They need a punch in the throat.

Near or far,
They’re like shooting stars,
Zinging past,
Like a lightning flash,
A bright little light,
In the night,
Before they crash.

You’d never sense,
Things going south,
It just jumps you outta nowhere,
And makes you throw up a little,
In your mouth.

As I watch it unfold,
It’s reiterated-
This is why people become cold,
Cold and black-hearted,
Swearing that never will another,
Chance get started.

They’ve outfoxed me before,
Left me blubbering,
On the floor,
But not this time,
Nope,
This time,
They’ll be the ones who choke.

Tired,
Just tired of it all,
Nothing’s left,
But to buy the pony,
They’ve failed the test,
And made their beds,
Now let them lie there lonely.

Dubious

On the one hand I get it,
On the other it’s a mystery,
Either way,
It’ll go down in history.

On the one hand I hate them,
On the other there’s much compassion,
Either way,
I’m not laughin’.

On the one hand I’m over it,
On the other not even close,
Either way,
Keep me bound in your ropes.

On the one hand it’s needed,
On the other it never needs be seen again,
Either way,
It affects the brain.

On the one hand I can’t wait,
On the other I’m scared shitless,
Either way,
I’m far from listless.

On the one hand I think you’re crazy,
On the other you’re my solid rock,
Either way,
I won’t balk.

On the one hand it’s a happy place,
On the other sadness saturates,
Either way,
There’s no telling what awaits.

On the one hand it seems so easy,
On the other nothing’s ever been harder,
Either way,
That’s an order.

On the one hand it seems predestined,
On the other it’s not even a possibility,
Either way,
I bet it’d have durability.

On the one hand life’s amazing,
On the other I wish I were never here,
Either way,
I’m glad that appeared.

On the one hand that sounds tasty,
On the other I just looked in the mirror,
Either way,
The picture couldn’t be clearer.

On the one hand it’s been long awaited,
On the other it every time gets pushed away,
Either way,
It looks here to stay.

On the one hand it’s there in plain sight,
On the other I’ve looked high and low,
Either way,
It’s not yet a hell no.

On the one hand that happened yesterday,
On the other it could repeat today,
Either way,
Take time to pray.

Better Luck Next Time

And ugly,
Was all that waited at the door,
Ugly,
Too terrible to mention,
And it could be likened,
To nothing preceding it before.

It started at this door,
Just here to the right,
Slyly it got pushed open,
Curiosity was awoken,
And expectancy was high,
But it revealed only a rake,
With rotten tines that poked and prodded,
Yes that door was a mistake.

Parallel to this door,
Was another door,
Hurriedly it was yanked open,
Desperation for a solution,
From the last spoiled door,
Was the only why for,
But all it brought was disappointment,
And need for one more chance,
To vent and repent.

Farther on down the hall,
We have yet another door,
Cautiously it was eased open,
Sadness was secretly the driving factor,
But time had made for quite the actor,
And all surprise was hidden,
Nope there was no cryin’,
When the lamb behind,
Ran off changed – a lion.

Now the next door,
Way over in another wing,
After awhile it was kicked open,
By a dare made when just jokin’,
Although only nonchalance was shown,
There was a hope deep down,
But all it did was drown,
Because behind that door,
Lay a coiled snake,
Who stole all remaining confidence,
When it angrily,
Slithered away.

One day a secret door,
Was seen up in the attic,
When found,
The feeling to ignore was emphatic,
But the ‘what if’ in the mind won out,
And it was shoved open with a silent shout,
A dog was disclosed,
One who loved to play games,
But who could not be tamed,
Before long it was obvious,
This dog was all wrong.

The door after that,
Is hoped to be the final door,
But where is the location,
And are there guts,
To even open it,
Are questions,
For which no one’s got an answer,
Take heed!
Will behind it be,
A snow-white steed?
Or will more ugly supercede?

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.

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.