And the mental illness they have achieved!
The stinging bluntness of it all,
Helps them to seek
The best medication
To sedate
Their craze!
Episodes they chose to live without meaning,
In a bitterness that is dazed!
And even morphine can not subdue,
Their screaming!
Or remove the memories that haunt their days!
Their jealousies and evil ways,
Have created their diseases…
Somehow an ‘allure’ of this sickness pleases them,
And stays!
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There’s nothing left to be said,
A consciousness missing,Can not be knocked…Into the head,Of one whose thought process has stopped,Been blocked, stiffled or dead!A waste of time occurs instead!If a shallowness is groomed…Room for depthnessHas long been shed.So even if those wishes are shown,We must gather those feelingsInside of us condoned.And hopefully a thought to thinkWill begin to sinkInto others left…
Make me believe,
You wish to release,That is genuine.And not for sale.I want to receive,What you give.As if it is only for me…That the heat you sizzle,Boils hot!It it is not…I don’t want it!No ‘ifs’ to add.No ‘ands’ to understand.Or ‘buts’ to diminish with excuses.
Repeat…
In the divinity being preached…To you in such excess.Something is missing,From the listening process.There are too many claiming,To have this access that’s exchanged.Observed is a continuance…Increasing a confusing mess that’s gained.Whatever is being confessed,In these ‘obsessions’ one has and receives…Where are the blessings being bestowed,To spread from these ‘sessions’Digested and professedWhen congregationsDisperse and leave.Repeat…If there…
Life…
And life…Is the nectar sweet.Life…Is what’s inside of me.To live as given.Life…Is no mocking bird.And life…Can be just a word.But life…Is what’s inside of me!Not here to prophecize it.Or criticize or try.Nor do I push aside…The reason why,Some live denying.Life…Is my meaning.And life…Is the nectar sweet.Life…Is what’s inside of me.And I’m gonna live my life…As…
Your lips,
Reminds me,Of torrents drenched with Turbinado sugar.Harvested raw and fresh,From the rich lava whipped grounds…Found,On the Islands of Hawaii.And I yearn to have this melt upon your tongue.As I enhale deeply the warmth of your breath,Spiced.I’ve used some on the baked chicken.On the tossed green salad!Made with Romaine, garden tomatos…Vadalia onion, mixed peppers, lemon juice…
As a child,
To have fun playing games,Of hide and seek!I wanted to be found.As quickly as possible.To explore and adventure.Not the last one to be discovered,In hiding.That was years ago.However,Some I know and knew well,Back then.Many are still crouched behind places.Hiding.Trying to win…At a game that has been long played out.And nothing anyone says,Will remove the elaborate…