Cold

Cold.

As bitter as a lemon and

cutting like a knife. Just

toget away one would give

their life.

Cold.

Billows through a building

with imbittered voices. Making

one turn up all heating devices.

Cold.

Makes teeth chatter in a

death like rattle. Some

chose to fight with endless

prattle.

Cold.

Bobby Kennedy

Not a movie star was he, 

yet to his brother's presidency he was key. 

Looking past the infidelity he was the conscience of JFK. 

Living life in giant leaps and encountering responsibility 

in heaps and heaps. 

Religious, 

faithful 

and pious he keeps. 

Vengeance not even an idea, 

and yet into his life it creeps. 

His final answer is death's murky depths.

Written: 4.7.2011

New Thing

This is the new thing.
Lie to the self and say you need it.
Argue with the financial advisor in your head.

YOU NEED THIS! 

It's so pretty and it goes with many other pieces you own. 

When you buy it everyone will admire you. 

You will be so sexy in your new thing. 

YOU HAVE TO HAVE THIS!

The new thing makes the (wo)man. 

Every one says you need a new thing. 

This new thing will define you.

YOU WANT THIS!

Mom has one, too.

Mom would love this new thing.

This new thing is so useful.

This is the new thing.

Remember

Can 

  you 

remember 

  me

?

I used to be that little quiet mouse, and now I am the booming thunder.

Can 

you 

remember me?

I had a small dream of a small life, and now I am shooting for the stars in my rocket.

     Can 

you 

     remember 

me

     ?

I had the largest ideas of my dramatic life, and now I am at peace with my world.

Can you

             remember

                            me

                                 ?

One little mistake

I really did not know, but this was just that one time.
I asked if I could just say that it was one little thing, yet it would be counted as my crime.
I wanted the goodness of my nature and not the sublime.
Asking, pleading and wanting to change it back to how it was will do nothing.
I go and ask forgiveness as I sing.
I gaze down and think of the one who gave me the ring.
Maybe it is all a blessing.
Here, Now, This is the thing!

Food

Such odd little pieces of meat. They didn't mean to cut up the cow, but they did. Each cow is just a number on the list. Once in a pretty meadow, and now in storage pens. Should I truly eat another being who my society uses? Living life is a tragedy for such creatures, so death is a release. Perhaps we need to look on things like Buddha does; in that, all life is pain and we can't escape it except in nirvana; hence, death is nirvana.

LIsten

Are you listening?

 Do I have to?

Where are your manners?

Dead and buried.

Where is your respect?

In rap stars and fallen celebrities.

Nothing

How bleak and dreary is a nothing, or does nothing exist? 

Can we really deny things? 

This and that, one and two, every, all and any... 

can all these be told no?

Something

I all ways start my stories with something. Oh, it's nothing intentional. Whenever I write it starts simply with something. I scribble other things, but that's how it starts. You may plead and beg, and that's something. No one would believe how many dozens of writers start their great works with something. Maybe it's an accepted start, and even Shakespear noted that it's all sound an fury signifying nothing, so that's something.

Something: good, bad, else, new, blue, used, new, strange.

Flight

Points of light blinking a morse code of little towns as the wings graze the sky.

 Almost impossible to embellish any life, 

so I gaze out wondering when that ladies baby will cry.

 Gathering light on the horizon 

showing large cities to come.

Child

small feet stomp on stairs;
love in giggles and yelling,
growing up on the wall in pairs.
Like salesmen parents buy what they are selling.
Give hugs and kisses kids.

Natural

Faded like noon time sun. Even though your time has just begun. Living life like there's no tomorrow. Knowing this world is someplace you borrow. Now seeing that life can be fun. Possibly waiting to see who has won.


Sent from my iPhone

Fall

Falling fire lands in piles of embers on the green grass, and defeated match sticks hold on to the last remnants of life. All true things shrivel up in protection. The old and worn out float carelessly to the ground almost as warnings to the little ones of what happens to spent life. A thick and grainy coat guards tender secrets, and as rough as it is, so it is needed against a horribly harsh and cold location. All things are silent now as the clock has wound down, so the breeze bellows the eternal bells; additionally, one last bend and the equal of fifty years gets carried away farther than we could imagine.

Home

She dreads him and yet loves him so that they’re not a sin. She feels that there was a race and that it is still in progress and that she will not win. The plane comes taxing in and she gulps at the sight of its fin. Her face is not done and her hair’s a mess and she feels as if she’s gone in for a test even though they are kin. Luggage seems to revolve and she sees his suitcase and his brief case she picks them up with a grin.
He sees her as the woman that was once young and full of life now she’s just his wife not a stand-in. He now looks her over like she’s a piece for auction and sees her body is not a paragon of physical discipline. His eyes traverse to his two children who are standing like a pole and a pumpkin. His relief at the sight of his son is apparent to his daughter who feels that she is like a used napkin.

Wall

It keeps me in

It keeps them out

It keeps to its self

It never regrets

It never remembers

It never rots

It keeps silent with

a stiff upper lip

It bonds

It breaks and then

it fakes that
                                  it is just a wall.

80s

Admittedly it was before my time, but I can still remember it as the earliest days of my life. The music and styles had influence over my life as a child and the times were good. As a child I never really did what I should. No one ever played the piano or the fife. Life was centered on possibility and the future. Sadly I was too immature to notice the potential of that day and age. I only wanted to move on to the next stage.

Feelings

The range of emotion the feeling and motion we all have. We obtain them by being around others and there wave of emotions.

Now What...

I plead for past moments not to haunt,
but they stand there and they taunt
like ghosts of old, they hang there gaunt.
Some in pain and some in fear.
I do shed so many a tear
now my dreams will never be clear.
of all that I see in the day,
sometimes there is nothing to say
accept to the psychologist who listens, and then
I have to think of them and be zen
as the time it takes
to hit the breaks. The time will be to long tis' time
I hit a wall
and that's not all
I breath in death and stall
for my body is ready
my mind is steady
come and claim me death.

Apr. 4th, 2005 at 11:40 PM

Education

Teaching is a constant pressure of thought that is like preaching
when your congregation wants to learn about numbers and seems to be reaching
Then comes along a problem that involves humanity
you figure it will be better than campus activity
then you see the reality
this mission that shows the proclivity that there is to calculate
I see you don't let that detour you and you don't procrastinate
but work smartly and do not see the walls that apperate
Many think the your power over math is great
and I agree for it is fate.

May. 2nd, 2005 at 1:36 AM

Eyes

I see it in his eyes 

that pleasure I can not describe

it's as if he and I are part of an ancient tribe

Our lust has no end in sight

neither does the pain we fight

apart we seem to know something more

a wise truth that shakes us to the core

we watch the streets below

all the neon that doth glow

people like rats lost in a maze

many of them in a bored daze

but not in him do I see

the spark of glee.

Aug. 10th, 2005 at 11:51 AM