The Forgotten GuitarThe Forgotten Guitar7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
The Forgotten Guitar,
I walked alone,head in the rain,hands in my pockets,facing down marching on as always.........alone.
When a spark,a mere glimpse of you caught my eye.....standing there.......faced down...beat up....and yet so........ perfect.
In your own way.
You snares where rusted,your body dirty,you stood alone........forgotten.
All the care that went into you,forgotten,neglected.......the bare sight of you standing there faced down,and so alone.......forgotten.
It hurt me....so i took you home,and sat there for over an hour just looking at your bare perfection....a reall blues guitar you where,and now definately blue you stood
Missing without a trace...Missing without a trace...8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The Missing Without A Trace
Its my house that lies in ruins.
my horse that is long dead.
Gone is my clothing and the family i once had.
They have gone missing without a trace.
As if they lived in another place.
A place not far or near from here.
Exactly the same spot.
Yet they have gone without a trace.
And clothing styles have changed alot,
and my house...it lies in ruins.
There is still the fireplace where my wife used to sit.
Its the only thing standing from my life.
But yet my wife is missing without a trace.
The path to my house is gone.
And where is dear Mr.Mc Neal who used to live nearby.
I thought i saw him yesterday,h
Three Doors Two HatchesThree Doors Two Hatches8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Three doors and two hatches...three coats and two patches.
Always one to stay behind, always one to miss out on things...four people three cars....always the luck of being unlucky.
Five bucks and six men...never counting...not even noticed...two guys one girl.....always lonely never together...four guys three homes.....freezing walking in the rain...a growing and unstopable pain...three doors two hatches there's never any room for me...three doors two hatches and i missed out terribly....three doors two hatches...two ways out but not for me...
A Boy Who RealizedA Boy Who Realized8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
As days and days,they all went by,he waited there and sat to die.
He would no longer accept a lie,he would sit right there and watch.
He watched and and watched but never saw.
Hes life it was a gaint flaw.
But then he woke and showed he could.
His effort made his life quite good.
He sat right there and watched but this time with his world untouched.
His happyness came flowing forth.
And all his knowledge came to pass.
The people were no longer blind,and found the best that they could find.
Finally he didnt have to wait behind.
He finally got his recognition,and grew into a big position.
He watched and saw his weird life fuzzle,it
MosesPoint your finger down at the river, dip the point in.Moses8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Watch the life-water meander around your docile stump.
Follow the snaking streams of
An unnerving love with a childish gaze.
Trace the double-ended bastard sword of an
Unjust existence; with your eyes.
They can't feel it.
They never do.
Cry a little harder,
Lose sense in your perceptual peons,
Commanded to see the dry rivers of corruption,
Dense with apathetic sabotage.
The work of modern day atheroma terrorists
Hidden under a fleshy, freckled guise.
Go back, to the time when rivers under your skin
Flowed with a great intensity.
When the rhythm rhymed with itself,
Silent NightSilent night, holy night,Silent Night9 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Gunfire sounds from left and right,
Mary lies cramped in a damp straw bed,
Joseph's gone out, she fears he is dead,
Sleeping in heavenly peace,
He's sleeping in heavenly peace.
Silent night, holy night,
Sheep huddle closer striken with fright,
The shepherds lie motionless, eyes wide and round,
Blood trickles out from their wounds to the ground,
Gone to heavenly peace,
They've gone to heavenly peace.
Silent night, holy night,
All borders are closed, no way through in sight,
The kings stand in silence, one smokes a quick fag,
Gold for bribes is drawn out of a bag,
They don't want heavenly peace,
Is It Love?If I hugged you,Is It Love?7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
would you never let go?
If I kissed you,
would you cherish that moment?
If I reached for your hand,
would you take mine gently?
If I needed a shoulder,
would you let me cry on yours?
If I needed to talk,
would you really listen?
If I needed to scream,
would you do it with me?
If I needed to go,
would you come with me?
If I fell for you,
would you catch me?
or just let me hit the pavement?
Paper FacePoint the pen at the ground.Paper Face8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
See the potential, that unified spire,
The epitome of solidity.
Squeeze the barrel;
Disregard the trigger;
It'll get you there faster.
Draw me a smile on my paper face.
Thick black lines of disgrace.
Smell the fumes, feel them burn.
Maybe this time I'll choose to learn.
Play old games with onomatopaeic resonance,
Scrish, scratch, scritch.
Every line another spire in my heart,
Every note another thorn in the bush.
Plip, plip, plip.
Feel the ink drip
A demon puddle next to your feet,
Where it belongs.
Draw your eyes shut.
I don't need you anymore.
Draw another production line crescent moon.
My Midnight FriendMy Midnight Friend9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Feel the tempered breeze of a midnight moon
Kiss your neck,
Slowly, softly, like it means it.
Taste the icy winds dance intricate temptations of moisture on your parched tongue, as dry as the evening masque.
Lurch as the night-chill
Tickles your frozen bill,
Doing that old jig we all know,
With a slight whiff of that drunk whom we said no.
Icy callouses being exposed to the nightly tundra,
Enduring pain, eating the raw skin,
Seeking alms, nothing more.
The hungry hand opens wide,
Susceptible to the cold of the cruel night.
"Feed a poor geezer tonight, mate?"
Burning cold strikes, making the loneliness only harder.
Backs of coat
Those Quiet EyesI look in despair at the sputtering flame that clings feebly to the candle in my hand. Once lost I may as well be dead in this treacherous terrain with it's wiley crevasses and deadfall traps. Blackness stalks around me, expressionless as the hood of an executioners' robe, pityless in lust for the blood in my veins. My guide dissappeared long ago, I begin to wonder whether he ever existed. But could I merely imagine eyes so deep and understanding, a voice that spoke thorugh me like a whisper to my soul? And why then do I clutch this candle if not to see the map he gave me when he dragged me out of the cage that I was born in, taught me to hatThose Quiet Eyes9 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This