CrazyIs

Crazy Is

a woman scorned heartbroken and shattered

Neglected by a prison of her own making

Deeply feeling the cut of every broken promise lied so stylishly through paper doll lips

Crazy Is

thinking higher of the brilliant mind’s potential barely reflected in the truth of the day

Seduced into believing her presences can blast down the wall made thick by nature’s blows

Crazy Is

the reaction of cold heart nostalgia in brushing off all past lovers as unsteady and overbearing

Denial of whose hand grips the sword of silence

Falsely offering friendship as bread crumbs for severance to untrue love

Crazy Is

holding on to fleeting connection as if it were a human right to bear witness to another soul standing bare chested, exposed and short of breath

Dissolving all trace of you, me and us for gut wrenching survival to get out of the maze

Crazy Is

Pretending at grown up while playing teenage fling shocking the system to contemplate forever

Ripping through the silky web of polite interaction in front of sheer rage and hate

all those thing we are meant to keep tucked away in composure

Sweeping clean depressed longing and shame raised by a family of wolves dressed as sheep

Quick to avoid the view of the other in order to appear

Not so

Crazy

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Accepting love donations to contribute to my writing quest. No amount is too small to keep the dream alive. "A buck don't suck"

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Tears of Sorrow

Oh such tears of sorrow

Sand creek ghosts ahead

The grief of white man’s blood lust

Hangs a noose on his offspring’s bed

Venom and rot within

No mercy for the ones next door

Hum rattle Great Spirit

May we rip these guts

No more

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Donations

Accepting love donations to contribute to my writing quest. No amount is too small to keep the dream alive. "A buck don't suck"

$1.00

Old fashion love poem

There you were as I peeked around the corner flashing me with those wide god eyes

Washing away my shame and wiping star dust off my heart

On a rainbow bridge skipping to the place in the sun carved of lovers and bubbles made of roses

Strawberry sent reflects in the mirror casting out the shadow of doubt painted with everlast and evermore

My hand glued to the electricity of me and you with butterflies singing familiar tunes to relate to

I finish your thought without a sound reverberating off the silhouette of merging flesh

Let me drink off your brain drops as you gather all my heartbeats

The place where love out weighs fear and all that troubles you meets ears erect

Syncopated step and leaving no man behind as we gallop into the night sky to feel the moon beams on our naked skin

Twin flame heat igniting the world to see nothing but the essence of our joy and the story of love’s hope

Moving mountains to tell the tale beyond the forefathers sight

No domination here only giggles and dandelions

Crushing the lie and hiding the boundary wrapped tight in combined arms solid in gentle hugs.

 

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Donations

Accepting love donations to contribute to my writing quest. No amount is too small to keep the dream alive. "A buck don't suck"

$1.00

Liberty

Washed wander wetlings dropped raw into the abyss

Split silent spat on false ground fed to the fire

Perfection dancing in raindrops whirling winds of lost chances

Speechless nostalgia torn back from careless slumber

Nothing left to determine who’s who and what’s what

Gliding bashfully on inspiration and impulse

Hop scotch and candy canes drawing nothing out of arrested bliss

Coffee cups and cigarettes plays double dutch to feel a bit

Dark shades upon the eyes to see another’s glory in fear to fade your own flame out

Sinking mud to swallow shallow formations in loose concrete paying homage to backward insight

Monuments to dull creation and lost dogs to give up the fight

Ghosts blowing tears off lady liberty and fairy godmother wrapping Alice in a blanket of wool

Warm bunnies crawling out of the wall to catch a frog tumbled hopefully from the sky.

 

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Donations

Accepting love donations to contribute to my writing quest. No amount is too small to keep the dream alive. "A buck don't suck"

$1.00

Do I hear Happiness in there#!?firstcycle

Minimum requirement for life pinched off

up the mountain blindly climbing
Receiving bread crumbs in thankless blood, sweat and tears

Minimum wage slapped the hand that feeds fast food bellies

to vote for more struggle in martyred justification

Holding your bladder in frozen smile lined up for the next task

Holy glory in overtime saving complaints to look good to the almighty

Dragging hollow bones to the time clock grumbling undigested cornflakes in the gut

Minimum expectation weaved and mined in dungeons our grandfather’s built

Speeding up the hamster wheel to trick reality into smelling plastic pansies

Walls closing in, hung with color pictures of conversational oasis

The gall I shame you to insist your feet soak in the tub to break blisters on the concrete floor

Retro fit the golden coffin nobly entitled to work ethic blue collar pride

Hyenas wander the ledges keeping out spiders gated throughout cookie cutter houses

Minimum effort in consequence of a bad attitude sourced from intuition locked in a closet

Small business taxing mummies to hold up its dream spiking the punch in drowsy baby cries

Shining the laser light towards the fancy key to take charge of the herd

Dissolving hope to soul death lost in the kinetic bubbling up of once upon a time

Fuzzy voices praising the potential of all you can be

Tasting the fire of sweet satisfaction doused in briny swampland catching fish through the tips of ragged fingertips

Ripping out the core of self-deprecating convenience making master rich patting obedience on the back

Done when the floor invites us to rest our head that tumbled the body off the bed barely capable to press the palms together forming an interception that shifts another day gone by in a new dimension

Inviting mass productivity to shake the stage and force a void in business as usual

Picket fence fallen on yellow grass blown to the wind with parched earth settled delicately on the fine leather seats in the weekend convertible un-garaged for the summer

Indentured servitude building your crystal castle at two shakes of a lambs tail and the promise of cocktails at the end of the day

Pencil skirt and Windsor knot parading powerhouse wisdom locked in uniformity to convince

the pocketbook that the ladder will appear in a smoke of praise gathered in exhaust fumes

No fight left to go up against a lineage of capital industry embedded in nature and driven by the invisible ghost possessed by us all

Shedding layers of self-esteem broken up by ambition to trophy attractions and love not of character but of status and steadiness

A club of masters that haze a generation on the backs of peasants and peacemakers with false compassion to the plight of the weak, lazy and loyal donkeys that tread through the canyon trails wishing for nothing less than unclaimed significance.

Loyal soldiers content to wear the badge that blood made sacred and suits made legal

Weary on my brother pulling his weight to hold the family together rocking the baby to sleep

Wonder more dear Mother watching the children play in the field of buttercups

Resting to dig deeper with the soul seekers blessing the wanderers escaping in patience and

giving new earth in simple satisfaction to  us all.

A paradise lost upon its victims and set behind a backdrop of revolution charmed in the book of history maybe to repeat and comfortable to not.