The Invisible Ones

The misfits mesh with me,
I like that fire,
Strong as a sting,
From a honey bee.

It doesn’t get quenched,
It can quiet,
But hidden embers,
Are always there,
Waiting to stir the air.

The misfits mesh with me,
The freaks and the geeks,
So much more desirable,
Than the cool ones,
Whose lips leak cheek.

Their hair has flair,
They mean what they say,
Their speak isn’t weak,
No matter what,
Day of the week,
Or what mood,
Churns in their gut.

The misfits mesh with me,
I see their personality,
Making others hide and flee,
But it makes me laugh with glee.

It’s so delightful,
And I don’t care,
Who toward them is spiteful,
That sarcasm,
With me won’t cause a chasm.

The misfits mesh with me,
And for this I am not sorry,
Rather than full of things angry,
Their eyes hold pain,
And are starry.

The difference between,
Them and the popular,
Is really nothing,
Except which demons and such,
Bother them much.

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.

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.

A Note From Above

Dated: The Beginning Of Time (AD)

To: My Children

Maybe not what you want,
But what you need,
Will you accept the gift this time?
I pray you heed.

Other opportunities,
May seem like something,
That you’d much rather,
But in the end,
If you go with another option,
You’ll wish it was by my hands,
Your story had been penned.

Something or someone,
Is always knocking,
Some should be kept,
The rest told to keep on walking.

It seemed meant to be,
Sewn up so fast,
Until it exploded,
With a powerful blast.

It turned destructive and deadly,
Provided by,
The wrong authority,
Instead of me.

Wake up!
Wake up!
I see every second,
The whole play-by-play,
That’s leading you astray,
As I hover close by,
Waiting on you,
To open your eyes.

It’s right under your nose,
Being handed to you,
On a silver platter,
But it’s not what you had in mind,
So to it you are blind,
Not what you wanted,
So by it you’re daunted.

It’s in your way,
Like a stumbling block,
But only because,
You’re hard-headed like a rock.

Time’s ticking away,
On your mental clock,
You see just one road,
And it’s making your shoulders,
Carry an unnecessary load.

Receive what’s right,
In front of your face,
Stop shoving it away,
Because in the end,
You’re the one who always pays.

And the price every time is hefty,
You sometimes feel guilty,
Or dumb or embarrassed,
I suppose such is the way,
When the area is so gray.

You wish it could be,
More black and white,
And cause much less,
Of an inner fight,
But the war is real,
So just remember,
My saved sinner,
No matter which you choose,
Only one’s the winner.

Each time you lose,
Is like a blessing,
Accidentally refused,
Seek wisdom before,
Making a choice,
If you elect to listen,
I’ve a very loud voice.

Signed With Love,
The Lord God Almighty

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.

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.

Welcome To The Real World

Too good to be true?
Yes I think,
Maybe that describes you,
About to admit to happy,
Then I feel it,
Fly right past me.

Is it worth the hell?
Time will tell,
Overnight elated,
Then lightning fast deflated.

Electricity,
Pouring into and out of me,
Not too long,
And it bordered on too strong.

Good,
But always shy of good enough,
Luckily,
I’m made of fucking tough stuff.

Nothing special,
So I’ll wrestle,
To get past this devil,
So I don’t go mental.

We’re all the same,
It’s only a game,
I know all are scum,
We’ll have to see if one,
Is better than some……….

He Is A LIAR

Read on,
It’s plain who I speak of,
That one always deceitful and spiteful,
Out to steal from you,
Every single breakthrough and miracle.

He makes what’s fake,
Go down sweet like cake,
Only once you’ve swallowed,
Will it leave an aftertaste,
Like rotten kitchen waste.

You came in agreement,
Beleived for it,
And finally received it,
But it didn’t last long,
He’ll have you believe,
That you are wrong,
Were stupidly deceived,
And that’s why you grieve.

But I think you know,
Who dealt the blow,
Who caused the row,
That formed the rift,
That stole your gift.

I pray you recognize,
His devilish disguise,
That you shut that door,
Before it overtakes,
And all things good and holy,
Have cause to forsake.

One thing leads to another,
He’s got many chances,
To pull you under,
Put him on notice now,
Before his performance,
Earns him a curtain call,
Complete with applause and a bow.

Buckle up,
For a bumpy ride,
No one forces,
Him to flee,
Without him circling back,
Trying to knock them,
To their knees.

**********

He comes as a feeling,
That in the end,
Leaves your mind and body reeling.

He comes as a friend,
That in the end,
You’d never recommend.

He comes as a place,
That in the end,
Is devoid of grace.

He comes as a thing,
That in the end,
Has a deadly sting.

**********

He wants the human race,
To turn their face,
And renounce faith,
So no more souls,
Make it into,
That most glorious place.

I hope you’re in it to win it,
Because this is just,
The beginning of it.

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.

Hey Little Kitty-Kats

In this classic case,
Of being in the wrong place,
At the wrong time,
They picked up their pace,
When the Strange One,
Opened up his jowls,
And let out a heinous howl.

Being so much smaller though,
The cats were too slow,
And the stray wolf,
In need of a pack,
Turned them,
And now there’s no turning back.

Basic house cats,
They were out on a stroll,
For some Halloween laughs,
And sad to say,
That was the last time,
They’d have a normal-cat day.

It was a fun time,
People watching,
And clawing jack-o’-lanterns,
Until they were unrecognizable,
Until a dog walked by,
Who was quite sizable.

Weird vibes emanated from him,
But they paid no mind,
Until it was too late,
Now running was out of the question,
They were out of time.

*************************

That was last year,
And now it’s been a whole ‘nother year,
Halloween,
Has come ’round again,
It’s been accepted all around,
Although it still feels foreign.

Now they’re wolves,
The Strange One,
Couldn’t find a pack,
His magical abilities,
Made others of his kind stay away,
As though he were overrun with fleas.

Due to lack of fans,
The Strange One took matters,
Into his own hands,
He made his own pack,
Out of house cats.

There’s no way out,
For him now,
Though he’s happy to have a pack,
There’s one thing that,
He cannot stand,
And this is when they meow.

All the other wolves,
Howl and bark,
Sometimes in the daylight,
But mostly when it’s dark,
His mostly talk,
When the sun is up,
And each time they meow,
He wishes they’d just shut up.

*************************

Strangely enough,
The pack is content,
You’d think they’d be upset,
But they’ve got a silver lining,
Because to them,
Their master is in debt,
They’re spoiled rotten,
And they’ll never let what he did to them,
Be forgotten.