No One Is Silver, And That One Is Definitely Not Gold

**********

I hear I’m such trash,
I hear I’m a crazy,
I hear I’m an idiot,
But I hear it all,
From a bigot who’s lazy.

**********

It’s time to cut ties,
With all the lies,
Snip it off,
At the root,
Give their ass the boot.

Playing both sides,
Walking a fine fine line,
Always promising to be there,
Pretending to care,
Until it’s time,
To face reality,
Then their face,
You’ll never see.

Going nowhere fast,
And wanting to drag you down,
With their sorry ass,
Keep your focus forward,
No need for glances back,
Those kinds of minds,
Aren’t strong enough to attack.

Facts are facts,
And truth is truth,
It’s not your imagination,
Though they’ll tell you otherwise,
To cover up those lies,
Listen to your inner man,
When you feel him prod you on,
To a different destination.

Hear their silence,
No peace in its presence,
The meaning is demeaning,
Or sometimes malicious.

In proximity,
But just out of reach,
Assuming you’ll save the day,
You’re kept around,
For when desperate times,
Call for desperate measures,
Then in a flash,
Your name is preached,
And they’re stuck like a leech.

Together and caught off guard,
In a battle with bloodshed,
You’d be the one dead,
They’d never give cover,
If you had a bead on your head.

Weak links,
Who fall apart under pressure,
I see them like poor abused dogs,
Beaten and caged,
But deathly afraid,
Thinking without bowing down,
They will starve and drown,
In truth,
They’re even worse off,
Because something they lack,
Is courage to bite back.

**********

I hear I’m such trash,
I hear I’m a crazy,
I hear I’m an idiot,
But I hear it all,
From a bigot who’s lazy.

**********

The Famous Lamb’s Blood

It’s like a wave from the ocean,
But dry like air,
Not breezy like wind though,
It blankets your body,
From head to toe,
As it enters your soul.

You’re left with a feeling,
You’d like to keep on repeating,
Complete,
Though you’re vacant and starving,
Very soon you’ll need more. 

Now you’re unsoiled,
Even if covered in mud,
Found by the blood,
Makes you supernaturally cleaner,
Than you’ve ever been.

Dark forces will try,
Telling you it’s not real,
For what they’ve never experienced,
To them can’t have much appeal.

Do not let them steal,
The way it’s made you feel,
Remember the best paths tend to be narrow,
And at times have never even seen a harrow.

This life’s a long hard road,
Lucky,
Now you won’t be going it alone,
You’ve gained a spirit guide,
Who’ll lead you safely,
To the better side.

Can Trouble-Free, Be For Real?

Just where in the mother-fuck,
Is easy street?
It’s a confusion I guess,                
Because something for one it might bless,
But put another in quite the fucking mess.

If I’m fortunate enough to make it,
To easy street,
Will I be given gracious greetings,
And presented with treats?

Maybe it’s not here at all,
There’s a possibility,
It can’t be uncovered,
Before we cross over.

Wherever it may be,
I wonder what’s to see,
And what’s waiting for me,
When I reach easy street.

What does it even mean,
To find easy street?
Is it time to kick back relaxed,
And stop being overtaxed?


Do you have a clue,
What there is to do,
Upon reaching easy street?
I assume there’s constant fun,
Because everything’s already done?

Are worries washed away,
When you set foot on easy street?
Is forgetting misfortunes,
A side effect of finding that place?

Maybe easy street finds us,
When we’ve all but given up?
Must you be invited to go there?
But by who……….
And could that be why it’s so rare?

Is easy street,
Even a factual place?
Or is it just fictitious?
Of this I’m suspicious……….

Hey Little Kitty-Kats

In this classic case,
Of being in the wrong place,
At the wrong time,
They picked up their pace,
When the Strange One,
Opened up his jowls,
And let out a heinous howl.

Being so much smaller though,
The cats were too slow,
And the stray wolf,
In need of a pack,
Turned them,
And now there’s no turning back.

Basic house cats,
They were out on a stroll,
For some Halloween laughs,
And sad to say,
That was the last time,
They’d have a normal-cat day.

It was a fun time,
People watching,
And clawing jack-o’-lanterns,
Until they were unrecognizable,
Until a dog walked by,
Who was quite sizable.

Weird vibes emanated from him,
But they paid no mind,
Until it was too late,
Now running was out of the question,
They were out of time.

*************************

That was last year,
And now it’s been a whole ‘nother year,
Halloween,
Has come ’round again,
It’s been accepted all around,
Although it still feels foreign.

Now they’re wolves,
The Strange One,
Couldn’t find a pack,
His magical abilities,
Made others of his kind stay away,
As though he were overrun with fleas.

Due to lack of fans,
The Strange One took matters,
Into his own hands,
He made his own pack,
Out of house cats.

There’s no way out,
For him now,
Though he’s happy to have a pack,
There’s one thing that,
He cannot stand,
And this is when they meow.

All the other wolves,
Howl and bark,
Sometimes in the daylight,
But mostly when it’s dark,
His mostly talk,
When the sun is up,
And each time they meow,
He wishes they’d just shut up.

*************************

Strangely enough,
The pack is content,
You’d think they’d be upset,
But they’ve got a silver lining,
Because to them,
Their master is in debt,
They’re spoiled rotten,
And they’ll never let what he did to them,
Be forgotten.

Godsend

A flood of peace,
Swept through my soul,
It temporarily patched the hole,
And made me feel,
Almost whole.

I was able to sleep,
More than a wink,
Like I hadn’t,
In almost a week.

**********

But let’s back up,
To when thunder struck,
And every imaginable,
Type of hurt,
Made me wish I was under,
Six feet of dirt.

There were hot spots and cold fronts,
But I must be a dunce,
For I held out hope,
That this time I may be taken,
As more than a joke.

The hot spots did not last long,
They were like maybe just the first bar,
And the cold fronts were endured,
As long as the rest of the song went on.

**********

So back now to present time,
I could not think,
There was every negative emotion,
Swirling through my head,
Like a storm out in the ocean.

I tried to calm down,
But as no definitive dreams came,
My mind continued to drown,
Then I remembered a trick,
That can solve any problem,
And the only thing needed,
Is a certain book about two inches thick.

Without a doubt,
It was time for supernatural help,
Answers weren’t coming on their own,
I’d have to conjure them alone.

So out came the giant purple volume,
And I closed my eyes,
To ask about the burden,
Eating me up inside.

I call this my magic eight ball,
And it always answers when I call,
My hands were guided to the exact needed excerpt,
And I was prompted to pay attention most especially,
To the one numbered as twenty.

Oh I don’t know why I was even surprised,
The response was just what I had surmised,
And that night I was able to close my eyes,
And sleep for the first time in ages,
Soundly until the time came to rise.

**********

Now if the patch can hold,
Until the conclusion,
At what’s bound to be,
One hell of a reunion……….

Downfalls

We’re usually blind,
To our own failures,
So if you don’t mind,
I thought to be so kind,
As to give you some hints,
That may save you from a bind.

If your weakest link,
Isn’t very strong,
You’re gonna have problems,
The rest cannot fully make up,
For what is wrong.

Maybe it’s a part of your being,
It could be someone you’re seeing,
But if you don’t cut it loose,
There’s a guarantee,
It’ll be your noose.

It’s time to take the bull,
By the horns,
Instead of keeping the wool,
Pulled over your eyes.

Who’s that person,
Toppling you over?
They’re a rusty link,
That you should rethink,
Nothing but,
A fair-weather friend,
On which none can depend.

You have a choice,
To use your voice,
Silence isn’t always golden,
It will leave you beholden,
To your own mind,
Which should be a crime.

Leaning too much,
On that tasty crutch,
Has made you feeble and fat,
And a slave to that,
It’s as easy,
As the words ‘hell no’,
But it seems you choose,
To self-abuse.

Always talking a big talk,
But seemingly unable,
To follow it up,
With walking the walk,
Whatever it is,
Causing this mental block,
Is a plastic link,
In a chain made of rock.

All of that arrogance,
You’re so full of self importance,
In the end your conceit,
Will equal defeat,
Your chain to you,
Might seem sturdy,
Too bad though,
That this trait makes it,
A tad less hardy.

I Sit Here Contemplating……….

What if people looked to their holy bible,
For their sole means of survival,
Instead of giving up,
When on a stroke of bad luck?

What if grass grew pink,
And with lots of kinks,
Would the animals still want it,
For their main cuisine,
If it were not straight and green?

What if there was no sun,
And there had been none,
Ever since the world had begun,
Would there still be such a thing,
As the dark being frightening?

What if people could fly like birds,
But it was normal not absurd,
Would airplanes still have been invented,
Or the idea not have even been presented?

What if the weather were more even,
And there was no such thing as seasons,
If that were so,
Would Earth be mild, hot, or cold?

What if people were not progressive,
And didn’t desire things impressive,
Would we regress back in time,
And if so,
What exactly would be on the line?

What if the pants of a liar,
Truly did catch on fire,
Would the world turn into a great big blazing pit,
Because it would catch everything around it?

What if everyone got along,
And stood united and strong,
Would the world be one big affair,
Or would people still form pairs?

What if the world were colorblind,
And colors had never been defined,
Would it become less challenging to choose,
Things like clothing and shoes,
And could said articles,
Still reflect one’s personality and mood?

What if more people would fight,
For what they know is right,
Instead of following easy street,
Though they know it ends in defeat?

What if coming home,
Were a better option than to roam,
If people were comfortable,
Sticking to their roots,
Would this not prevent,
Quite a bit of disputes?

What if blue did not mean sad,
And red did not mean mad,
Could anything else describe,
These emotions to which our brains subscribe?

What if money,
Wasn’t everyone’s honey,
If it had never been invented,
Would the world be less demented and tormented?

Love, Be Gone!

********************
I don’t like it,
So if that’s what this is,
Its hold on me,
Has got to give.
********************

Oh yes,
You bet it’s true,
Heart disease,
Is a most deadly killer,
But it’s not about that organ failing,
On which I stake my complaints,
I’m meaning more toward,
When it’s bruised and torn,
And makes us want to wail,
Because someone else,
Has made it mourn.

Such a deadly disease,
That eventually,
Befalls us all,
And sad but true,
If it hasn’t yet,
It’ll get you too.

Its fatality rate,
Is not known,
But if I were to debate,
On if it’s high,
I’d push to the affirmative,
As even though,
You may be alive,
You can’t really live.

Though able to move freely,
You’re paralyzed,
From a brain swirling,
With flashbacks of lies.

A smile that,
Goes on for miles,
Suddenly replaced,
With a wan face,
Brought on by nausea,
From that tormented mind,
And now your days are trials.

Years of torture,
Had fucking well better not be my future,
Knock on wood,
That it doesn’t take,
Much time to heal it,
Because I’m sick to death,
Of feeling like shit.

********************
I don’t like it,
So if that’s what this is,
Its hold on me,
Has got to give.
********************

Weird, But It Works……….

Prayer and whiskey,
Does that combo sound crazy?
Oh but darling, trust me –
It works splendidly!
Now add some sunshine to that mix,
And you got perfection, bitch.

Laying in the sun,
While sipping on a strong, strong drink,
Then thought of a prayer,
Just sent it up,
And the problems disappeared,
Right into thin air.

Even if they were still there,
I would not fucking care,
I wouldn’t feel them anymore,
That’s for fucking sure.

I’ve got that whiskey numbing my blood,
And protection,
From the Lord above,
I’m golden,
Thanks to the outlets I have chosen.

Good to go,
Because I’ve let it go,
The shit show,
Has all but been forgotten,
And it’s fuckin awesome.

How To Make Santa Angry

A polar bear,

Without a care,

Was skating mindlessly across the ice,

Thinking about a steaming bowl of something nice,

When down swooped a pigeon,

Who tried to get him to join up,

With some cultish religion.

He turned quickly around,

To get away,

From that awful sound,

And that’s when he heard,

The most welcome noise,

As it ran past him,

So swiftly it was blurred.

It was his good friend,

Elvis Elf,

The one he cared most for,

Besides himself,

And he was singing a version,

Of Jingle Bells,

That would have had Mr. Pigeon,

Saying he was doomed to the Hells.

“Peter White”,

Said Elvis,

When he was close enough to be heard,

“I dare you to help me make Old Santy mad,

Let’s make this song of mine,

A new North Pole Christmas fad”!

And there Elvis began to sing:

“Jingle Bells,

Mr. Santa’s balls smell,

And I wish he’d go away”……….

Laughing,

But at the same time horrified,

He agreed,

To cooperate,

I’ll make it known here,

That this polar bear,

Had a personality snare,

That prevented him,

From turning down a dare.

So the two put their heads together,

To plan what might be best,

As the elf had a vendetta,

With Mr. Santa,

To get off his chest,

And of course the bear,

Was excited to prove,

He was not too pussy,

To perform such a measly dare.

It took some doing,

But their brains finally did figure out,

A way to easily go about,

Making the wild tune,

Something all the North Pole’s peoples,

Would willingly shout.

Old Rudy was taken,

To a cabin long forsaken,

Peter stood watch,

To be sure he got,

The best possible care,

And to make sure,

If any others came by,

His roar would give them,

A gigantic scare.

Elvis distributed a bulletin,

With the lyrics of his shocking song,

And advising,

If they wanted their lead deer back,

They would have it learned,

By the time dawn cracks,

A fortnight from now,

And at the end was written a post script,

Warning if they breathed a word to the Head Man,

They risked being whipped.

It was a different sort of missive,

That got delivered,

To Old Santy and his wife,

It started out “Dear Sir and Ma’am”,

And ended with,

“If you’re not there,

It will cut through our hearts like a knife,

Love and kisses,

Signed,

Your Faithful Elves”.

All day every day rehearsals were held,

Meeting in little groups,

To keep the Boss from finding out,

Yes it would be a most unwelcome time,

For him to start nosing about.

With a foreboding feeling,

All learned each and every line,

And before they knew,

It was time to assemble,

In front of the grove of pines.

The morning of the singing,

Turned out bright and sunny,

And not knowing the truth,

Both Clause’s put on cheery finery,

So they would look their best,

When they went to see,

What pleasures were planned for them,

By these little darlings,

Who barely came up to their knees.

When they pulled up to the pine grove,

Things were very quiet,

So much so,

That against all the brightness and snow,

It seemed almost eerie.

There before them sat,

Rows and rows of elves,

Still and silent as the ones,

Who sit upon your shelves.

In just a moment,

Elvis stepped up to the sleigh,

“Now out you get you two,

And follow me this way”,

He said sans a greeting,

Then walked off towards the special seating.

Soon the Jolly Man and his woman,

Were settled in to watch,

“How blessed we are”,

Whispered He to Her,

But how fast this changed,

To “Let’s get ourselves the fuck out of here”!

When at Elvis’s urging,

All those threatened elves began to sing.

“Jingle Bells,

Mr. Santa’s balls smell,

And I wish he’d go away”……….

And then from around the corner,

Darted the red-nosed reindeer,

For whom during the past two weeks,

The Clause’s had lived in fear,

Of never seeing again,

And he proceeded to tell them all,

About the how’s and why’s,

Of his sudden kidnapping.

Meanwhile the song was coming to an end:

“Jingle all the way,

Oh it’s fun to take and hide,

The one who leads the Sleigh”……….

In Elvis’s eyes,

Things were at long last even,

Between him and the Big Man,

Tit for tat,

After last Christmas’s embarrassment,

He had finally taken a stand.

Oh though,

What an oops this was on his part!

To assume all would resume,

Business as usual,

After that knife he just purposely thrust,

Straight through Santa’s heart.

He thought himself high and mighty,

But Santa was just waiting,

For him to go night-nighty,

Then with a little Christmas Land Magic,

Elvis was modified,

Into a figure most tragic.

When he awoke,

A monster stared back from his mirror,

And as the day wore on,

The fact it was no joke,

Became increasingly clearer.

He was then banished,

To guard the North Pole’s secret entrance,

Their own abominable snowman,

Who walks with a limp,

And a candy cane club,

Being deemed unpardonable,

By both the Clause’s,

For certain there’s nothing,

That can cure this curse.