Posts Tagged ‘ thoughts ’

Oh Won’t You Be My Neighbor

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I keep
my self busy
To
distract
the holy lonely.
I try my best,
Not to
think of you…

The itch
scratches at me
Like it’s my
one & only.
So like
an old habit,
I reach
for you…

The past visits
with
temptation
baring gifts.
Giving me
the feels,
Like I got
nothing better to do….

I sit and I stare
As I
adore you
At work,
You never
Look back.
Making me worry
what I mean
To you…

I look into
The mirror
Reflecting my
Thoughts
a bit deeper,
And no one
can prove
That they’re not true…

So like
A good
Neighbor
Who stitches
Dreams
& concepts together,
i can’t picture
Any sweater
That’ll fit me
Much better
Than you….

Duo tone

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With eyes
Full of pride
And a heart
Full of ache,
Ears tired
Of the lies
And a tolerance
Sick of the pain,
That the wise
Think they hide
And the mannequins
Attempt to fake,
In her strength
She will ride
Every super natural
And cosmic wave,
No matter how wide
A yawn is still a sigh
Oh how close we resemble
The path that they’ve paved,
Issues put off to the side
Grow & tower like high tide
Increasing the volume in tremble
That no mere man is able to save,
The thought
Reaches my eyes
And I’m unable
To contain,
The tears
That reprise
My previous
Emotional state.
I want
What I consider mine
And hope that it becomes fait,
That breaks me out
Of what is shy
Rushes me into the needed
And finally takes me away.

shooting for a dollar

I shoot for a dollar

as I sit on a dream,

I extend my hand for change

but it appears as if I’m an unseen,

they know not what I’ve been through

I’ve seen plenty of things,

so I give my two cents

as I yell out loud with something obscene,

to passers-by who go out of their way

to not acknowledge me,

further encouraging my hatred for people

and continuous ranting,

If I speak I expect to be heard

but if you don’t want food for thought I can’t force you to eat,

give me a dollar for my sorrows

or cut to the chase and bring me something to drink…

The All Seeing Death

I can’t lie

 I’ve accepted,

The madness

That slowly incepted,

 There’s so much

 That I don’t wanna stress it,

So I unwrap

 Exhale

and injected,

 All the poisons

I thought

Would replenish,

 All my

inglorious

 Whip ins,

Hurting so bad

I Won’t stop

Till it finish,

Similar

To a terrorist

 mission,

 I’m so many man

And I need

 me A witness,

 O lord

There’s about to be

Some killings,

I can smell

the sweat

From the thick of the tension,

Here I am

Tickled

 in suspension…

a voice says

 This

ain’t your fight

Carry on,

To the

depths

Of the

Armageddon,

Bring all your

 guns

 This is going to be a

war,

Knifes need

to pierce quick

 Best sharpen up

your swords,

A bible

for a shield

And the weapon

is the word,

What is your

 bare fist

Going to do

against a swarm?,

 of Ice cold hearts

that Stand strong

Against

the warm,

Best

Turn up The heat

Limbs

need to be torn,

Against actions

 that laid back

With our oaths

that were sworn,

We need

a re-doing

Weve done been

Re born,

Because what we’ve been

stuck in

Aint

Cleaning up the source,

IT’s

 only fueling

And causing

more & more,

 Destruction

From the pure

 that’s already

been torn,

And what about

the child

That we’ve

already bore?,

It’s far

too late

For the simple

 to ignore,

 It’s either

do it right now

 Or

 mother fucker hit the floor…

Power of Nancy

There is no

denying the truth

and sometimes depending on perception

can make that next move uncouth

we think things into existence

so before you chicken out and fly/leave the coupe

know that the car goes where you steer

and in the end you do what you want to do

if it doesn’t do any good

then what does it really prove

negative nancy doesn’t leave what she fancies

so she remains unable to break her glue

inspiration or creation

thoughts like random brain farts

normally float out

but im being hit with concepts

that are sly talking their mischievous way in,

suddenly and yet not fast enough

the ground is in the sky

im falling up

and I can’t tell where something ends and where it begins…

angles and theories

jokesters who seriously

don’t know if their delirious

or sane enough to know the difference from righteous,

 sitting on top of clouds

getting a tan from an eternal sunshine

 of a mind that at times

seems as packed as time square and then empty and spotless