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Irisgoesrawr666 Apr 2015
This is an anthem for the homesick, for the beaten,
The lost, the broke, the defeated.
A song for the heartsick, for the standbys,
Living life in the shadow of a goodbye.

Do you remember when we learned how to fly?
We'd play make-believe; we were young and had time on our side.
You're stuck on the ground,
Got lost, can't be found.
Just remember that you're still alive.

I'll carry you home.
No, you're not alone.
Keep marching on,
This is worth fighting for,
You know we've all got battle scars.
You've had enough,
But just don't give up.
Stick to your guns,
You are worth fighting for.
You know we've all got battle scars.
Keep marching on.

This is a call to the soldiers, the fighters,
The young, the innocent, and righteous.
We've got a little room to grow.
Better days are near,
Hope is so much stronger than fear.

So if you jump, kid, don't be scared to fall.
We'll be kings and queens in this dream, all for one, one for all.
You can light up the dark,
There's a fire in your heart,
Burning brighter than ever before.

I'll carry you home.
No, you're not alone.
Keep marching on,
This is worth fighting for,
You know we've all got battle scars.
You've had enough,
But just don't give up.
Stick to your guns,
You are worth fighting for.
You know we've all got battle scars.
Keep marching on.

On and on, like we're living on a broken record.
Hope is strong, but misery's a little quicker.
Sit, and we wait, and we drown there,
Thinking, "Why bother playing when it's unfair?"
They say life's a waste, I say they lack belief.
They tell me luck will travel, I tell 'em that's why I've got feet.
Left, right, left, right,
Moving along to the pulse of a heartbeat.
This could be the last chance you have to fly.
Do you like the ground? Want it to pass you by?
Man, you had it all when you were just a kid.
Do you even remember who you were back then?
What do you want in life? Will you be twice as strong?
What would you sacrifice? What are you waiting on?
Don't stop, march on.

I'll carry you home.
No, you're not alone.
Keep marching on,
This is worth fighting for,
You know we've all got battle scars.
You've had enough,
But just don't give up.
Stick to your guns,
You are worth fighting for.
You know we've all got battle scars.
Keep marching on.

Oh-ohhhh-oh-ohhhh
Oh-ohhhh-oh-ohhhh
Oh-ohhhh-oh-ohhhh-ohhhhh­

Oh-ohhhh-oh-ohhhh
Oh-ohhhh-oh-ohhhh
Oh-ohhhh-oh-ohhhh-ohhhhh

K­eep marching on.
Paradise fears, Battle scars.
Lindsey Jan 2012
Kinda of sick of feeling this way
Not sure what to do to push this feeling down
Just need your skin
I need your skin!
Farther, farther, ohhhh
Guess I gotta take another sip of that
Whiskey drink
That, that thing
That gets rid of this feeling
Ohhhh! No no no no more teasing me this time
Just get it in, get it done, ohhh rough and tough
Isn’t this enough?
Let’s just get ****** up
And I’m so frustrated with these aches and pains
Baby, baby, let me take another shot of of the whiskey drink
Yaaa, another pill
Another spill
Ohhh
Another sip of that whiskey drink
Ohh, baby baby don’t you wish you could be
Just as pretty as me
Ohhh, baby baby
Where are these words coming from!
Where are these screams coming from!
Ohhh baby baby
Just take another sip of that whiskey drink!
Blurring out the rest of the world around you
Ohhh, baby baby take another sip of that whiskey drink!
One pill
Two pill
Oh ****, looks like I’ve taken too many this time
Ohhh baby baby, another sip of that whiskey drink
Ya, that’s me
That ****** delusional mess spilled out on that couch
Rip these clothes off me
You know you can’t stand to see me without  my skin
Ohh baby baby
Touch me, up and down, oh, baby baby put your hands on me
No no no no more teasing me this time
Just get it in, get it done
Ohhhh and I need something to push this feeling down!
Something to get these voices out of my head!
Get it in, no no no no more teasing
Rough
Don’t you love it?
Ohhh, and another spill from this ****** mess I’m in
Another ****** wreck from this mess I’m in
Just this skin
Just this skin
And this whiskey drink
Just another, another….
Ohhhh baby baby
And take another sip of that whiskey drink!
Leave me.
http://lem97.tumblr.com/post/16056356088

I don't think this piece is finished yet
Classy J Apr 2019
Ohhhh yeaaahh! Oooohhh yeah!
Ohhhh yeaaahh! Oooohhh yeah!

I’m on that mountain.
Looking back at my past.
And I see..
The emotions that laid roots...
And I...
Reflect on my errors...
And I...
Move on my from there.

Ohhhh yeaaahh! Oooohhh yeah!
Ohhhh yeaaahh! Oooohhh yeah!

I’m on that mountain.
Smiling for the first time
And I...
Know it won’t be the last time.
And I...
Have gained some wisdom from my mistakes.
And I..
Am ready to go down to that valley again.

Ohhhh yeaaahh! Oooohhh yeah!
Ohhhh yeaaahh! Oooohhh yeah!
am i ee Sep 2015
meanwhile,

the Big Fat Yellow Bootay
was getting right tired of
waiting for the election to end.

so,

she set off down the highway
going ninety five...

"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried
as she gunned the engine and
threw herself in gear.

"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER *******!"
twice she cried,
"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER *******!"
this second time
for extra good luck
with the unfolding election.

cool Fall breeze caressed
her yellow metal,
her big fat yellow bootay,
a glorious day to
be out on a drive!

well, except where she had
come from.

beep beep
beep beep
always driving her
beep beep beeping insane!

it shore nuf was quiet
out this way!

she turned the shiny
silver dial to turn on the
radio.
'gonna have to get me
some better speakers
one day soon.' she thought
to her big fat bus self.

and what came out blasting?

"That's Alright Mama,"
by who else?
but the King!
Elvis!

Elvis has left the building
and now,
Elvis is ON THE BUS!

she didn't quite know all
of the words,
but what the ****,
she sure could sing!

As the big fat bus
with the big fat bootay
was driving along,
singing joyfully,
she glanced in the rear
view mirrow and what
did she see?

why the ghost of Elvis himself
was sitting right there
right in the back of the bus.

He starts strumming on his
own guitar and singing,
'that's alright mama.."

so she turned off the
radio to listen
to the ghost of
the King,
Elvis,
himself,
singing in the back
of her big fat yellow bootay!

she also watched him eating
a lot of food
in the back of the bus,
her bus.

his ghostly figure
seemed to
fluctuate between fat Elvis,
and skinny Elvis,
like a seesaw.

by and by
says he,

(not the really fat one
but not the really skinny one
neither.)

'I need a pit stop.'
says the King

so the big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
asks,
asks she,
'you wanna stop at the next
stop & go,
or
the next
fizz & wizz,
or
my fav if you really
need a constitutional,
the stop & plop?'

at this particular junction in time
this ghostly King,
was in the shape
of Fat Elvis
but very cooly outfitted,
bellbottoms and rhine stones
or were those all diamonds?

note to self,
the big fat bus
squirreled away,
check on that.
are those real or not?
more mulha is always
good
and this just might
be mana from heaven
in the form of Elvis the KING
himself
and maybe just one
of those diamonds
will fall out and
get lost in me.'

mighty strange happenings
going on around here in this
big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay.

' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied
with that
ohhhh,
soooooo,
divine Elvis drawl
and that darling little
thing he did with his mouth,
but was doing now
as he was sitting there in the
back of HER big fat bus
with HER big fat yellow bootay!

OH MY,
it really is a
HOKEY POKEY day!  she sighed.....
dear reader, i must admit, this is sounding even strange to me... it must be the stress of the election, so please pardon me.  and a very good night to you.
Title.        Never take for granted
the greatest power, the power to choose.
                ( An Acrostic ) of 50 lines.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never take for granted the greatest power.
             The power to choose !
Every concession,or subsidy in whatever form
       As a contribution or donation to charity
Value this as a highest prize , volition is the          
   Sacred power to choose ,use that power well
Efficacy empowering the production of results
   By marching forward in a positive direction
Ranges of choices sometimes oh so wide as to
   Make a decision very difficult indeed.

Two equally ,typically undesirable alternatives
     We get to know typically as a dilemma
An act of choosing to take up one option as
     Opposed to another to maintain momentum
Knowing that there’s no apparent option rather
   than the real , you have “Hobson’s choice”
Embarras de richesses you become spoilt for
     Choice, is the other side of the coin.

From the comparison betwixt the humble poet
      And the power hungry “Megalomaniac,
Optimising in an act of choosing between the
  two, voluntary ,of one’s own free will Choose
Rights to act or judge by your power of choice
   you may call this discretion,one or t’other

God grants such power as yet unmaterialised
    and unrealised which he labels potential.
Relinquish that potential at your peril
   you may never live to see that choice again
An area of power and influence you may get
    to understand as your domain but reflect
Never take for granted the greatest power,
   the power to choose.
Twitter and chat with all and sundry
    relatives you’re born to, friends you choose
Even if you use your power of wit n influence
   and see it as weight n clout you throw about
Delegate or depute and assign somebody to
    make your choices for you. No don’t quit !

The A to Z of choices takes no time to ponder
    If you take for granted the power to choose
Hub of influence power centre ganglion from
    which nerve fibres radiate to every solution
Even by commencing from “A”. Aha . Eureka!
   you have chosen first time lucky .But wait. !

Great though he may appear as the “Boy”
  of your dreams, will he stand the test of time?
Retiring back into your shell ,your”Colleagues“
  At work never choose to know the real you.
Every “Demi-God “or “Elder”that you meet ,
  give respect to ,spoil it all by choosing not to.
An “F” word muttered under your breath .
    A “Gender” question,which choice of path?
To “Hero-worship” then a real life commitment
      “Interpreters “ of choices thru a Drago Man
Established in the art of choice as lead by
  “Jesus” Christ “Knowledge “that it will not fail

Superimposed, will “Liquidise “and blend
    all the choices that are available “Mmmmm”
To the most “Natural “smoothie that you have
   ever chosen to drink. “Ohhhh” yes. !  

Pause and “ Pause” again ,do we really under
    stand the power of choice. Procrastinate  !
Oh put off until tomorrow, “Quit” whilst ahead
      “Realise” your winnings in the now.
Weather you “Seek” perfection ,or an easy
    way out . “ Take” heart it is your choice
Ethereal choice becomes the mother of
    invention, when and where necessities dwell
React with an un-earthly prowess and ability
   to establish what was to be the right choice.

The “ Virtual “ choice that you could have
   made under the circumstances, bono-fide.
Having and knowing you have the power
    Of choice, it leaves it in your hands.
Even if you get the choice “Wrong” this time
    it is your mistake , no one else’s

Pretty soon you will know the error and mark
  It with an “X” n strive to get it right next time
Only “You “ have this individual power
   To make up your own mind .You do, don’t you
We can all be as”Zealous “and pedantic as
   You like in life but choices win through .
Even if you can’t be bothered to take the
   Choice to read this poem, on and on and on.
Reacting in a moment of impatience.
  “ what am I doing wasting time reading this?”

To have a power of choice is a valuable power
    not granted to all people of the world.
Oh stay with me ! Tell me that you understand
    the meaning of this poem. Do I make it clear

Can you choose? Do you choose? Are you
   exercising a sacred power that you’re given?
Holy power, not given to timid mice sitting
  on the fence waiting for the right choice
Oh no ! Never take for granted the greatest
    power, the power to choose.
Onlookers and bystanders are you learning
   from any of the simple examples I have set?
See unless you see and understand the good
   and bad choices made by man thru ages .
Earth and the Universe would have failed
  In its quest to provide a Heaven that we seek
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 30/10/2018.
This is not your average Acrostic. I have incorporated an A to Z. Abcerian within its length which requires extra effort and stayed within a first person monologue. I hope the reader liked this effort. It took a week to write.
Sharina Saad Jun 2013
When I was small
I had a favorite game
A game only girls loved to play
Paper dolls, pretty paper dolls....

My sister Sara dressed the paper dolls nicely
Elegantly dressed, pretty dolls...
and we loved to style them our ways...
We got bored easily and Sara begged me to buy more dolls...
I used my childish charm to get a rupee or two
My grand papa joked about our  paper dolls
"no saree wearing dolls"? " no chapati making dolls"?
" No parantha making dolls?
and both of us replied.... " ohhhh.... shut up grandpapa"

When we grew up a little,
My sister and I were sent to a boarding school.
It was all girls school
and we were taught grooming, social etiquette
and how to be a lady...prim and proper
Dressed smartly, talked only when necessary
and sat up neatly, no head turns..
No giggling... only smile delicately
No tantrums or emotional plays...
just be poised... controlled.. poised and controlled...
Of course
We were not allowed to play paper dolls anymore

After awhile I hated the school...
Told my sister.....  They were turning us
into paper dolls...
Paper dolls have no say...
They only follow.. They are puppets
Remember paper dolls we used to play?
All pretty in the outside but there is no life
to breathe....
Suffocated i felt here.....all I wanted to do is flee
Sis, cmon this is certainly not us... let's flee

WE SAID GOODBYE TO OUR BED AND WE DID RUN....
We managed to be who we wanted to be in the end
to live in real world, be with real people
given a freedom to choose what we wanted to do
with life...
We enjoy our life not the traditional way anymore
Have career and still we dressed nicely and elegantly
We are real people...
Unlike the paper dolls , who only look poise and beautiful..
but inside they are freezing.... lifeless....paper dolls..
Donall Dempsey Jul 2015
Two fictional characters
walk into a bar

in Malta
( * Marsaxlokk - to be precise ).

"To...be....tooo beee. . ."
stammers Hamlet.

"Oh fer Gawd's sake...two beers!"
J. Alfred Prufrock snaps.

"You really milk that
"To be or not..." thingy."
J.A.P. scolds Hamlet.

"Tsk...tsk!" Hamlet tsk tsks.
( sticking his tongue out ).

Two Cisks are plonked
down before them.

"No...I am not Prince Hamlet or
was meant to be..!"
J.A.P. quotes him self.

"Awww fer Jaysus sake...loooook
just for the fun of it...the gas of it

we swop
texts!"

Hamlet interrupts Prufrock's
protestations.

"Ohhhh....o.....K?"
Prufrock ponders somewhat doubtfully.

And, so:
Hamlet the Dane

( for yea it is indeed he)
dares

(1) to eat a peach (2) wear the bottoms of his white
flannel trousers rolled (3) parts his hair behind even

(4) dares
to aks

the overwhelming question

"( Oh, do not ask, what is it! )"

Oh & (5) gets to hear
( ** ** ** )

"...the mermaids singing...."

Prufrock "Hum...."
kills the king.

Becomes the king.

Beds.
Weds
Ophelia.

" Buzz buzz...come come..go...go!"

"It's a very
foreshortened
Hamlet...I know

but - what the heck!

"See..? slurps Hammy
". . . now, that wasn't so bad...was it?"

"Another Cisk?"
"Naw...I'll have a Becks!"

"Jaysus Prufrock now
...what's up?"

"Don't know..."mutters J.A.P.
wearing a frothy beer moustache.

"HURRY UP PLEASE...IT'S TIME!"
roars the barman in Maltese.

"I can connect nothing
with...nothing!"
Prufrock almost sobs.

"Like that time
on Margate sands..."

Hamlet cuts him curtly off.

"Don't even go...there!"

"But I still get that squirmy
...you know...feeling

we are just
fragments of

the imagination of
some *
long haired Irish poet

sunning himself by
the waters of

the shimmering waters of
a Sliema hotel pool

...up up in the clouds!

Hamlet sighs.

"Yeah, me too
spooky...innit?"

Hamlet looks behind him
checking for what isn't

there. . .

"Ahhhh well, never mind eh?"

Prufrock attempts an attempt
at being cheerful.

Fails miserably.

"Let us go, then
you and I...

when the evening is spread out
against the sky..."

Like a patient etherised upon a table!
they both sing outta time and outta tune

stumbling one
into the other.

A long hair Irish poet
smiles as he watches them

go.

"Għaġġel fil-għoli...wasal iż-żmien JEKK JOGĦĠBOK!"
the barman roars.

NOTES

Pronounced MAR SA SCHLOCK. Those Maltese Xs being really SHs in disguise.

* Pronounced CHISK but the new barman is obviously new to the language and pronounces it TSK which makes him think that is what our two fictional characters are ordering.

Not to be confused with mobile texting but rather the literary texts of which both of them owe their existence.

*
The play bounded in a nutshell as it were.

One Donall Gearld Oliver Denis Dempsey is a good example of this sort.

* The No. 1 song all over Heaven...beating Sparks THE NO. 1 SONG ALL OVER HEAVEN  to the top spot.

** "Għaġġel fil-għoli...wasal iż-żmien JEKK JOGĦĠBOK!" Once again the new Irish barman hasn't got his tonsils around the Maltese lingo and comes out with this terrible mish mash of the typical barman's cry.
SøułSurvivør Jan 2018
It whispers in blood
Makes a flute of our bones
Makes vapor of sweat
It hums and it groans
It's a static in hair
Has a life of its own
We're empty without it
As cold as a stone

It has passion to warm
Has tongues that can talk
It will help to confirm us
To Christ and his walk
It's a Shepherd to guide us
It can heal the flock
It can chastise us
Can You Feel the shock?

O ohhhh... FIRE! (2X8)

It refines by its heat
Like a stone in a mill
It crushes the wheat
It can comfort & fill
It gives courage to hearts
Teaches us to be still
It's grace, it is art
It's simply God's will...

It goes up in red sparks
It's an eternal flame
Will press into the mark
And won't leave us ashamed
Convince with one word
Won't leave us the same
It's not going to change
And I AM is its NAME...

O ohhhh! FIRE! (2X8)

[BRIDGE]
It'll melt solid rock
Or is cold as the snow
From God's heaven above
Or from Hades below...

O ohhhh! FIRE!
(2X10)


SøułSurvivør
(C) 1/11/2018
I've been struggling with illness, so I haven't been on site much anymore. I'm on Facebook more, because I can post photos, music & videos. You can find me on FB by looking up Cathy Jarvis. I have the same avatar there as here. Thanks for understanding. Love you!
imagine a big dragon
Are you doing it?

"ye"

what color is it?

"b-blue and yellow"

Blue and yellow. Cute! Isss it big as godzilla?

"no, it's smaller
likee the size of a horse"

Dats a smol dragon
I like him.

"its not smallllllllllll
a smol dragon would be like, a neck dragon
hes big, just not hugeeeeeee"

Ohhhh okay. He's a big dragon, but not huge.
His teeth are like little point pearls
do you see how shiny they are?
and pink

"why are his teeth pink"

They are pearls.

"but pearls are white"

then his toofers are white.

"gooood
good hygeine"

Mhmm
One of those pearls in his dragon maw
his little baby toofeers
thats you

"why?"

because than you can fly with him everywhere.
Just imagine looking down through his mouth at the cityyy
as he flyyyys
and sitting all nestled in his lip
Blue and yellow leather
He could sing you storiessss and brushes his toofers so his breath would be warm but not stinky

"gooooooooooooooooooood!
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhh­hhhhh :3"

"My small tenant" He says to you.
as you crawl out of his gum and walk out onto his tongue.

What is your dragon houses name?

"his name is roxy"

He's making a very silly face, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes to talk to you
he sounds silly too
talking with his tongue out
"Welcome Home. "

"i loveeeeee"

Roxy the Blue and yellow Horse sized Dragon House.
"Ready to slide?"
he asks you

"alwayyyyyyyyyyys"

he swallows you
it's very slippery and fun!
like a water slide
And is warm, but not smelly becaus he brushes his teeth
you fly over muscles and liquids and tongue and land on a biiiig trampoline
You can hear Roxy from all around you, quite loud "Having fun, my tennant?"
You are the small size, or a dragons tooth.

"good :3"

"uh oh!" He cries
you see fire from his back
it's zooming towards you!

"nooooooooooo run awaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy"

You run up towards his tongue and trip into the sticky icky
The fire is warm and tingles oup your back
then is over
and you standup, the back of your clothes all burnt off and your front all sticky icky
"I'm sorry, tennant"
"I sneezed"

"its oki roxy."

Roxy fashions their tongue like a staircase for you to come back outside

"daddy? Im sleepy... Can we finish the story tomorrow night?"

me too Babygurl. ^^
Yes we can

"yay!!!!!!!"

Good night

"ninighht daddy. sleeeepppppp well.
i love you"

I love you too baby girl ^^
Sweet dreams.

You curl up in roxys empty tooth spot, he covers you in his blanket tongue. it is warm. but not stinky. and you drift soft to sleep
"Good night, Tenant"
"I love you"

"i love you ttooo roxy."
Usurp from quite possibly, the most Adoreable FB Chat
Oliver Philip Dec 2018
2010
Title.        Never take for granted
the greatest power, the power to choose.
                ( An Acrostic ) of 50 lines.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never take for granted the greatest power.
             The power to choose !
Every concession,or subsidy in whatever form
       As a contribution or donation to charity
Value this as a highest prize , volition is the          
   Sacred power to choose ,use that power well
Efficacy empowering the production of results
   By marching forward in a positive direction
Ranges of choices sometimes oh so wide as to
   Make a decision very difficult indeed.

Two equally ,typically undesirable alternatives
     We get to know typically as a dilemma
An act of choosing to take up one option as
     Opposed to another to maintain momentum
Knowing that there’s no apparent option rather
   than the real , you have “Hobson’s choice”
Embarras de richesses you become spoilt for
     Choice, is the other side of the coin.

From the comparison betwixt the humble poet
      And the power hungry “Megalomaniac,
Optimising in an act of choosing between the
  two, voluntary ,of one’s own free will Choose
Rights to act or judge by your power of choice
   you may call this discretion,one or t’other

God grants such power as yet unmaterialised
    and unrealised which he labels potential.
Relinquish that potential at your peril
   you may never live to see that choice again
An area of power and influence you may get
    to understand as your domain but reflect
Never take for granted the greatest power,
   the power to choose.
Twitter and chat with all and sundry
    relatives you’re born to, friends you choose
Even if you use your power of wit n influence
   and see it as weight n clout you throw about
Delegate or depute and assign somebody to
    make your choices for you. No don’t quit !

The A to Z of choices takes no time to ponder
    If you take for granted the power to choose
Even by commencing from “A”. Aha . Eureka!
   you have chosen first time lucky .But wait. !

Great though he may appear as the “Boy”
  of your dreams, will he stand the test of time?
Retiring back into your shell ,your”Colleagues“
  At work never choose to know the real you.
Every “Demi-God “or “Elder”that you meet ,
  give respect to ,spoil it all by choosing not to.
An “F” word muttered under your breath .
    A “Gender” question,which choice of path?
To “Hero-worship” then a real life commitment
      “Interpreters “ of choices thru a Drago Man
Established in the art of choice as lead by
  “Jesus” Christ “Knowledge “that it will not fail

Superimposed, will “Liquidise “and blend
    all the choices that are available “Mmmmm”
To the most “Natural “smoothie that you have
   ever chosen to drink. “Ohhhh” yes. !  

Pause and “ Pause” again ,do we really under
    stand the power of choice. Procrastinate  !
Oh put off until tomorrow, “Quit” whilst ahead
      “Realise” your winnings in the now.
Weather you “Seek” perfection ,or an easy
    way out . “ Take” heart it is your choice
Ethereal choice becomes the mother of
    invention, when and where necessities dwell
React with an un-earthly prowess and ability
   to establish what was to be the right choice.

The “ Virtual “ choice that you could have
   made under the circumstances, bono-fide.
Having and knowing you have the power
    Of choice, it leaves it in your hands.
Even if you get the choice “Wrong” this time
    it is your mistake , no one else’s

Pretty soon you will know the error and mark
  It with an “X” n strive to get it right next time
Only “You “ have this individual power
   To make up your own mind .You do, don’t you
We can all be as”Zealous “and pedantic as
   You like in life but choices win through .
Even if you can’t be bothered to take the
   Choice to read this poem, on and on and on.
Reacting in a moment of impatience.
  “ what am I doing wasting time reading this?”

To have a power of choice is a valuable power
    not granted to all people of the world.
Oh stay with me ! Tell me that you understand
    the meaning of this poem. Do I make it clear

Can you choose? Do you choose? Are you
   exercising a sacred power that you’re given?
Holy power, not given to timid mice sitting
  on the fence waiting for the right choice
Oh no ! Never take for granted the greatest
    power, the power to choose.
Onlookers and bystanders are you learning
   from any of the simple examples I have set?
See unless you see and understand the good
   and bad choices made by man thru ages .
Earth and the Universe would have failed
  In its quest to provide a Heaven that we seek
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 19th 2018. ~
Some poetry to live by ....  The greatest power
The reviews were in and as usal all were pretty much what I expected .
the crittics were so dam hurtful course what do you expect from a teenage windbag
who cant take a **** without posting on twitter how terrible life is.

But much like the **** on his hundred dollar sneaker's made in a sweatshop
by someone who makes ten cents a day .
There words much like there sad little yuppie cast life's  seldom amounted
to a pimple on the worlds ***.

What kind of tormented hampster take's glee in cussing out
a semi insane  carear criminal with a rap sheet that reads longer
than one of thoose Harry Potter books.

Being a man  of  much free time and plenty of found cash.
I decided to vist a crittic of mine.
And what better place to vist than a sunny state with not enough brains
to convict a woman who kills her own kid yes that true think tank
of complete dipshits Florida.

As  my plane touched I down payed close attention to my target I mean crittic.
It seemed he was versed in many hobies a few including.
Taking pictures of himself and his homies with there shirts off
wow no wonder this hampster was viewed so much by older gentlemen who run the site.

He also liked tiedie shirts and beer well honestly who doesnt the beer I mean.
Unless your a steriod fed pro wrestler or ***** hippie who wears that **** when there sober?

The name much like most things I could give a **** about seldom stayed with me.
Cause much like the hampster im writting about  honestly was as about as forgetable
as that night I spent with his mom ohhhh snap.

He was in a cult and it was a cult that had millions of followers
the cult of the yuppie spoiled ******* for which he was the states chapter president.
hey what can I say he was a good worker course that's what the guy bathroom
that used to be a politcian said dam you Sonny Bono  why  did you ever break
up Peaches and Herb!

But enough with the foreplay children.
It was bright as hell outside warm and annoying with all the people on the ******* sidewalk
Jesus man take the wheel im trying to mix a drink.

After some brief sidetracks what?
I figure why not   **** on a place thats biggest mark is hurricanes and ******* conventions
oh yeah and people who cant convict people who ****** good thing cause this vist was gonna be a breeze.

I stood at the door that stood at the gate that stood befor me and stood befor
my verbal punching bag locked in his yupie fortress.
Yes sir are you expected  the guard asked me.

Honestly no sir I wasnt but thats what happens when  a loose woman make's bad choices.
As usal like in the cases of most people that come from that clan we call normal.
he just looked at his list and prayed I would leave.

Sir Im gonna have to ask you to leave.
I knew this man's logic but seldom do I let sense and reason get in the way of a good
time or a Gonzo on a mission to payback a Yuppie ***** who much like his work
I often forget.
But hey look on the bright side when ya run outta toilet paper you always have
something to wipe your **** with.


The man kept asking yet like most people I simply ignored
his pleas.
Let me ask you sir what did the face say to the floor?
The man paused thought and as the tasser bit into his neck
and as his body went as limp as the states thought process
i kinda had to feel bad as he hit the pavement with a thud.

Im kidding I like I care?
Past the point of no return and little reason I was yet at the main door.
Were little now what was his name hmmmm  oh yeah young ***** Bagginns
called home.

Why you should have seen the suprize in his eye's
when he looked up from his coloring book to see his favorite
person to talk ***** about.

Or herd the screams   as his little **** was thrown into the wood chipper
hmm oddly enough red really wasnt his color.
Im kidding I didnt **** him right away hell that would take all the fun out of are little get togather.

And besides i bought all this kickass stuff at the hardwear store.
He kicked and cried.
For the love of facebook and texting i didnt mean it im sorry!
I was deaf to his cries for hours the torture went on.

And  just when he had hit the point of total agony I did the most cruel act of them all.
Well my friend time for a little TV.
What how the ***** that torture you idiot ?
Seems this little hampster still had some fight in him.

I pressed play and what appeared apon the screen was a horror so cruel it pains my long winded **** to
write it well maybe not.
Justin Bieber appeared on the screen.
Hey guess what ***** Ive set it on loop.

From the top of his lungs he screamed like a young school girl who fell victem to this
Pagan God.
Nooooooooo anything but that.

As I made my exit from his lare slash basement he somehow managed to muster all his yupie strength
breking his bonds a bolted like a yuppie cheatah he was to fast he had reached the shotgun befor
I knew dear lord! this was it I was gone for sure.

I cant take it anymore!
The sound was beyond words.
The celling was covered in yuppie sludge.
I felt myself was I dead?
Hey they got all the channels on this satelite kickass.
As I sat lost in my private time i had to wonder was it wrong
to target little spoiled shites that bully others and shouldnt we just try to reach out and understand one another?

Yeah ***** that what am I Dr Phil?
I have to admit young ***** really was cool now he lay dead on the floor and you seem so more open minded.

Course being it's blown  off it seems to help.
I laughed I cried I ordered like five hundren dollars in adult films on young ****** satilite.
Hey I was celebrating his life and staining his couch.
You cant put a price on revenge duh.

And as i bolted from that State dumping the corpse in the Everglades.
I had to wonder what drives a young ******* to cross a old drunk hampster
like myself ?  

Well like I was really conserned I was way to buzy enjoying the gators rip the
young no talent **** to shreds.

Note to crttics get a life and avoid me or I might be making a road trip to a city
near you!
Yes someones gonna get hurt and it's not gonna be me.

Stay crazy hampsters
Dedicated to a certain little hampster who belives cussing people out is being a crittic.
Heres the thing if you dont like me then dont read me.
Jay Dee Jun 2016
No. I have no terror I will avenge you.
You say karma will but I'm not waitin' on it. Besides I'm not afriad to.

You were my eyes when the fog I couldn't see through.
Tell me now. And tell me the the whole truth. Did he harm you?

No. I've never been here before. But you I will do it for. If I don't stop him he will try and do it more.

Ohhhh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhh.
Noooo. Noooooo. Nooooo.
No. He won't do it no more.


My sweet friend. I promise he wont
do it again.


My pleasure was inside his pain. I took retaliation in your name.

I'm the champion. I'm your defender. I will be your watcher...your preserver.
It was easy. ***** threw his hands up. Tried to surrender. But that didn't work...was already over.

You said that he harmed you.
Ohhhh. Noooo. Noooooooooo.
He won't do it no more.




-Jennifer DeAngelo
Copyrighted 2016
Goes good with sick guitar playing.
When someone you love needs help.
Oliver Philip Nov 2018
2010
Title.        Never take for granted
the greatest power, the power to choose.
                ( An Acrostic ) of 50 lines.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never take for granted the greatest power.
             The power to choose !
Every concession,or subsidy in whatever form
       As a contribution or donation to charity
Value this as a highest prize , volition is the          
   Sacred power to choose ,use that power well
Efficacy empowering the production of results
   By marching forward in a positive direction
Ranges of choices sometimes oh so wide as to
   Make a decision very difficult indeed.

Two equally ,typically undesirable alternatives
     We get to know typically as a dilemma
An act of choosing to take up one option as
     Opposed to another to maintain momentum
Knowing that there’s no apparent option rather
   than the real , you have “Hobson’s choice”
Embarras de richesses you become spoilt for
     Choice, is the other side of the coin.

From the comparison betwixt the humble poet
      And the power hungry “Megalomaniac,
Optimising in an act of choosing between the
  two, voluntary ,of one’s own free will Choose
Rights to act or judge by your power of choice
   you may call this discretion,one or t’other

God grants such power as yet unmaterialised
    and unrealised which he labels potential.
Relinquish that potential at your peril
   you may never live to see that choice again
An area of power and influence you may get
    to understand as your domain but reflect
Never take for granted the greatest power,
   the power to choose.
Twitter and chat with all and sundry
    relatives you’re born to, friends you choose
Even if you use your power of wit n influence
   and see it as weight n clout you throw about
Delegate or depute and assign somebody to
    make your choices for you. No don’t quit !

The A to Z of choices takes no time to ponder
    If you take for granted the power to choose
Even by commencing from “A”. Aha . Eureka!
   you have chosen first time lucky .But wait. !

Great though he may appear as the “Boy”
  of your dreams, will he stand the test of time?
Retiring back into your shell ,your”Colleagues“
  At work never choose to know the real you.
Every “Demi-God “or “Elder”that you meet ,
  give respect to ,spoil it all by choosing not to.
An “F” word muttered under your breath .
    A “Gender” question,which choice of path?
To “Hero-worship” then a real life commitment
      “Interpreters “ of choices thru a Drago Man
Established in the art of choice as lead by
  “Jesus” Christ “Knowledge “that it will not fail

Superimposed, will “Liquidise “and blend
    all the choices that are available “Mmmmm”
To the most “Natural “smoothie that you have
   ever chosen to drink. “Ohhhh” yes. !  

Pause and “ Pause” again ,do we really under
    stand the power of choice. Procrastinate  !
Oh put off until tomorrow, “Quit” whilst ahead
      “Realise” your winnings in the now.
Weather you “Seek” perfection ,or an easy
    way out . “ Take” heart it is your choice
Ethereal choice becomes the mother of
    invention, when and where necessities dwell
React with an un-earthly prowess and ability
   to establish what was to be the right choice.

The “ Virtual “ choice that you could have
   made under the circumstances, bono-fide.
Having and knowing you have the power
    Of choice, it leaves it in your hands.
Even if you get the choice “Wrong” this time
    it is your mistake , no one else’s

Pretty soon you will know the error and mark
  It with an “X” n strive to get it right next time
Only “You “ have this individual power
   To make up your own mind .You do, don’t you
We can all be as”Zealous “and pedantic as
   You like in life but choices win through .
Even if you can’t be bothered to take the
   Choice to read this poem, on and on and on.
Reacting in a moment of impatience.
  “ what am I doing wasting time reading this?”

To have a power of choice is a valuable power
    not granted to all people of the world.
Oh stay with me ! Tell me that you understand
    the meaning of this poem. Do I make it clear

Can you choose? Do you choose? Are you
   exercising a sacred power that you’re given?
Holy power, not given to timid mice sitting
  on the fence waiting for the right choice
Oh no ! Never take for granted the greatest
    power, the power to choose.
Onlookers and bystanders are you learning
   from any of the simple examples I have set?
See unless you see and understand the good
   and bad choices made by man thru ages .
Earth and the Universe would have failed
  In its quest to provide a Heaven that we seek
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 2010.
Never take for granted the greatest power the power to choose
Bryce Nov 2018
The coca-cola breath!
Flashing lights, tweetie birds, the rough narcotic stench

The sky is devoid, it is scared of the streets etched in starlight, everything shining-- tangerine and Coit and ohhhh boy
don't'cha know what you're in for?

Twilight and she is a figment on my mind
the bark of cigar is fiery opal on my slender frame
I can hear something along the lanes of love
Echoing behind me, the rising sun

Funny dudes in new suits, pressed, steamed, machine-rolled
pills in the pockets
shipped locomotive
Every etching has its china
every etching is porcelain skin
The fog is a silken balloon, unconcerned, wayward
The men longingly abide in its cool, the breath of an over-excited lover, singing in the showerhead an embarrassing microphone
over the west coast

It's all over! it's the end
the roads are devoid of the things that called you
They are a clarion horn on the Claremont, facades etched with windowpanes
here the americans eat tofu and pretend it's bacon

I am in the rapidly rotating spoke, enjoying the taste of woodchuck, upchucking my guts every Sunday, white knuckle-- praying to god
release
release

what a steal that's a fantastic car for the price!
it is only 10 years of payment
only 10!
House worth 40, kids worth 60, medicinal payments
corn flakes
Fortified iron gates and god says,
naw let them all out until they drown,
I'll never flood the earth but I'll make it puddles
and if they want they can lay face down

I am eating Korean stew and wondering what will happen
when unification builds a railroad from Moscow to Busan
I will travel it and write a novel or two
it will be
"On the Railroad"
and start in San Francisco or a little while outside
on an October evening with not a fog in the sky
Just sky, blue, blue sky
A child on the hillside
blowing bubbles in the apartment complex or the gravel mound
next to new homes, now cookiebread gingerbed frames
Doing tricks on BMX bikes, getting our elbows smashed, a designated paramedic
It's all built up now, concrete streets and lonely streetcorner lamps saying
Hey we're gonna light up this little space
Hope you don't mind
Please don't play too loud

And given that these spheroids are monumentally moving
hurling like a pitched water glass
everything staying put under the motion of it
Such a lovely rooting of mass

I will call alongside it, crawling towards answers etching on murals and on the stamping of curbs
E-5 West main
4451 Lowell Street
554 Happy Valley Road
It's all the fun little tributaries of surface waters
heading with precognition towards seas
roped into it by specific gravity

On the phone i spoke to Mr. Victorious
I asked him about his particular drone
down south there in the more direct limelight of the night
he told me about his uncle, in prose
of course
we just hung our heads over the speakerphone
Not sleeping the way we should
shouldering burdens as ***** in deserted zones
laughing and preaching to cottonfields

Then there was the girl
the one we forgot, truth be told
The one unrequited impetus for all art, all physicality and feeling
loved by god in the corporeal
She is the saffron reed in my eye, the one i forgot to preach Victory to
She that one oblong pebble, rolled by the stream
passing our campgrounds and continuing her journey to sands
small little microscopic tetrahedral perfection
I could get stuck in between my teeth
or perhaps left on the sweat of the skin
the lost moments of beachside living, love for the expansiveness, left in the diner seat of the car, gotta keep moving
Carrying her away and if not careful,
nestling her back atop the summits from whence she came.

it is a cola in the glass on the shores of the bay,
it is a divine moment of contact in the oceans
two sailors acknowledging their vessels
with light shows and the play of eye
off the horizon, a green light o' sprite.
Oliver Philip Jan 2019
Title.        Never take for granted
the greatest power, the power to choose.
                ( An Acrostic ) of 50 lines.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never take for granted the greatest power.
             The power to choose !
Every concession,or subsidy in whatever form
       As a contribution or donation to charity
Value this as a highest prize , volition is the          
   Sacred power to choose ,use that power well
Efficacy empowering the production of results
   By marching forward in a positive direction
Ranges of choices sometimes oh so wide as to
   Make a decision very difficult indeed.

Two equally ,typically undesirable alternatives
     We get to know typically as a dilemma
An act of choosing to take up one option as
     Opposed to another to maintain momentum
Knowing that there’s no apparent option rather
   than the real , you have “Hobson’s choice”
Embarras de richesses you become spoilt for
     Choice, is the other side of the coin.

From the comparison betwixt the humble poet
      And the power hungry “Megalomaniac,
Optimising in an act of choosing between the
  two, voluntary ,of one’s own free will Choose
Rights to act or judge by your power of choice
   you may call this discretion,one or t’other

God grants such power as yet unmaterialised
    and unrealised which he labels potential.
Relinquish that potential at your peril
   you may never live to see that choice again
An area of power and influence you may get
    to understand as your domain but reflect
Never take for granted the greatest power,
   the power to choose.
Twitter and chat with all and sundry
    relatives you’re born to, friends you choose
Even if you use your power of wit n influence
   and see it as weight n clout you throw about
Delegate or depute and assign somebody to
    make your choices for you. No don’t quit !

The A to Z of choices takes no time to ponder
    If you take for granted the power to choose
Even by commencing from “A”. Aha . Eureka!
   you have chosen first time lucky .But wait. !

Great though he may appear as the “Boy”
  of your dreams, will he stand the test of time?
Retiring back into your shell ,your”Colleagues“
  At work never choose to know the real you.
Every “Demi-God “or “Elder”that you meet ,
  give respect to ,spoil it all by choosing not to.
An “F” word muttered under your breath .
    A “Gender” question,which choice of path?
To “Hero-worship” then a real life commitment
      “Interpreters “ of choices thru a Drago Man
Established in the art of choice as lead by
  “Jesus” Christ “Knowledge “that it will not fail

Superimposed, will “Liquidise “and blend
    all the choices that are available “Mmmmm”
To the most “Natural “smoothie that you have
   ever chosen to drink. “Ohhhh” yes. !  

Pause and “ Pause” again ,do we really under
    stand the power of choice. Procrastinate  !
Oh put off until tomorrow, “Quit” whilst ahead
      “Realise” your winnings in the now.
Weather you “Seek” perfection ,or an easy
    way out . “ Take” heart it is your choice
Ethereal choice becomes the mother of
    invention, when and where necessities dwell
React with an un-earthly prowess and ability
   to establish what was to be the right choice.

The “ Virtual “ choice that you could have
   made under the circumstances, bono-fide.
Having and knowing you have the power
    Of choice, it leaves it in your hands.
Even if you get the choice “Wrong” this time
    it is your mistake , no one else’s

Pretty soon you will know the error and mark
  It with an “X” n strive to get it right next time
Only “You “ have this individual power
   To make up your own mind .You do, don’t you
We can all be as”Zealous “and pedantic as
   You like in life but choices win through .
Even if you can’t be bothered to take the
   Choice to read this poem, on and on and on.
Reacting in a moment of impatience.
  “ what am I doing wasting time reading this?”

To have a power of choice is a valuable power
    not granted to all people of the world.
Oh stay with me ! Tell me that you understand
    the meaning of this poem. Do I make it clear

Can you choose? Do you choose? Are you
   exercising a sacred power that you’re given?
Holy power, not given to timid mice sitting
  on the fence waiting for the right choice
Oh no ! Never take for granted the greatest
    power, the power to choose.
Onlookers and bystanders are you learning
   from any of the simple examples I have set?
See unless you see and understand the good
   and bad choices made by man thru ages .
Earth and the Universe would have failed
  In its quest to provide a Heaven that we seek
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 29 th. 2018. ~
Never take for granted the greatest power the power to choose
Linaji Nov 2011
11-11-11- past 11a.m.

I missed it.

I wanted for me what happened to my friend
in Australia
She was walking down the street and at
11-11-11- 11a.m.
almost everyone around her
took a bow to such powerful numbers
11-11-11-11a.m.

(Perhaps we shall be saved she said)

Today, my 11-11-11, I was shopping for my lovers feast;
Hummus and crispy organic veggies
Fresh beets and pure ****** olive oil
Local goat cheese to die for

My phone alarm rang letting me know it was 11:10
(I did not hear it) as I was talking to Max my grocer

About:

Just picked Arugula and sweet Irish butter
(To mound a top San Francisco sour dough)
He hinted to me not to miss out

On:

Butternut squash and meaty pomegranates
"A lucky omen" he said, "on a day like today."

“What do you mean A day like today?” I said
“Well it’s 11-11-11” he smiled
“Oh my goodness” I faintly cried (almost too loud),
“I missed it!” (I saw the time on the wall where I was shopping)
“Missed what?” he said
"Missed out on experiencing 11-11-11-11.a.m."

“Oh my dear you missed nothing”, he said as he reached toward me with
A huge ripe pomegranate.  I felt flush from wanting something
that now seemed so gone.

“No”, Max pointed out,  “you have more than feeling a set of numbers
In the movement of the day”,

“You were here planning a feast for a loved one
(yes I told him it was a lovers dinner)
What could be more in acknowledging the power of life

Than love?”


I said nothing as I beamed and took that pomegranate and

Ohhhh

I felt so good.



Linaji 2011

(an almost true story)
talentmabungu Oct 2016
Like a Lovely Heart
You Don't Send Me Lovely Hearts Anymore
Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Hearts
Stairway to Heart
Can't Take My Hearts Off You
Good Heart
Like a Heart
Goody Two Hearts
I plead Heart
Amazing Ohhhh No
Have You Met Ohhhh No ?
Mad to Sing
I Sing in Your Arms
Heart Autopsy
You Think I Ain't Worth A Heart But I Feel Like A Million Hearts
There's A Good Reason Hearts Are Numbered, Ohhhh No
st64 Dec 2013
marvel at the complex-pattern
painting such a span of swirls
light-panels less than shimmer
in the afternoon shadows on the wooden kitchen-table
biggest fear - your leaving


1.
beautiful summer-days lost in your eyes
oblivion dances like a wily-***** at hypnotising fire-licks
from our languid-bed, I'd lazy-feed you lox-on-crackers
and everything you liked
heaven never had it so good

........................till

woke up and *you weren't there

where'd you go to?
no letter, no call.. for days


2.
to overcome this fear
I brought in a  b-i-g-g-e-r  one
that used to drive me to serious-pitfalls in the past

off to the exotic pet-shop, my toes marched me
and I got one - very toxic thing on legs
without a natural terrarium

once home, I set it free
I set free.... my biggest fear
        to blot out your absence
        to overcome your presence
        to forget you

it crawled around and made a home
while I hardly breathed nor slept
and moved about on ginger-steps


3.
I kept feeling strands of your hair
          in my sleep
          on my cheek
          inside my cry
and woke to moonlight bathed in sweat

I did not wash your pillow, after weeks now
I bury my face in olfactory-memory lingering
and pine for you, but I see your missing set of keys and..

/ scratch .. scratch /

I hear a sudden scurrying
heartbeat jumps out cage
eyeballs to the parquet-floor

nothing.


4.
I'm getting used to this new pet
and she doesn't mind my breathing
                    oh, I swear she's a brain-scanner
                    when she looks at me that way
                    like she can read me.. through and through

I dare not pet, I dare not touch... ohhhh no!
       I leave her the daily-bowl of delicious, fresh worms
       to find it empty in the evening
I guess, thanks for freedom.. of sorts

one day, I left the window open
as I jotted down some poignant thoughts
at my antique-escritoire
    espied her legs upon the solar-sill
    thought she'd be running... a leaver, too
but no..    
                 she was sunning all her legs awhile


5.
the season's changing.. leaves are falling
crackle of wind in the air

now, I'm making me some coffee in my silver whistle-***
hot, solo beverage to calm my settling-mind
when.. ping-ping.. comes a text
lo and behold....
it is you...

you!


6.
delirium / delirium /
(I'm on cloud-nine... you're coming home tonight..
                                      you love me so much, you say..
                                      made a mistake..
                                       you've got something big to share..

I've taken time to prepare a special-meal.. candles and all your faves
but must pop out quick to get some lox...)



I'm back now, got the stuff now
key in lock
but the door.. jammed by a weight.. of sorts
can't seem to push the ****-door open...
shoving hard, I see........







fear compounded by a minus
simply multiplied
disaster





S T - 4 dec 13
plan(e) in the air.. pushing tin's a fine way to get there :)



sub: fly

days fly by
on wing of trust
in rusty-daze
Field Of Moons Oct 2014
Beady almond eyes, cocoa butter skin, hot chocolate on his breath.
     Grandpa is here, no worries or fear.
I adore the way his soft cheeks flush pink every time he laughs, and how his frame is so fragile during a hug.
     How is a man so weak, so strong?
When grandpa is here, everything feels safe, everyone is so kind.
       He makes me feel so special, I hope I make him feel the same.
        Ohhhh how I miss you so Grandpa!!!!!
My days are so cold and empty without you, I often sit in your favorite comfy chair and sip hot cocoa just to feel close to you.
Grandpa love is not strong enough a word for my emotions toward you.
    Grandpa......  I miss you!!!!
Shrek Ogre Sep 2014
take of yo *******, take off yo top
Ohhhh, yes!
babe!

BLASTOFF!!!!
Tilly Nov 2013
Curtains up
NOW OWN
~IT~

AS IF
  you're the King
   of the whole
    **** stage  

when

you're
really
  just another
player

acting out
for those
cheap seats
you survey

Where else
****
HERE

would
THEY
get to see
such a
[defamation]
-free play?"

(laughing)

"Best you
throw some sweets.

*
Indulge them


...
I'd say!
...I'd say!"


The Evil Queen 
smirks
&
a knife glints in her hand

Is
she
creeping
up

Behind You?
(or... does she need a real man?)


Ahhhh!!

    you see...

she's
exhausted
A-LADD-IN
& she knows
where to find you..

(evil laughter)

Ohhhh!

It's
just as well
you're in costume
...now  remember
your lines


"Don't props (& illusions) make a jolly good night!"

and baby, *WOW!


you look
Oh! Soooo cute
in those tights!

                                  *and with a sweep of the stage, the smirking Queen exits >               right


This stage
is all yours now

So Buttons...    take a bow
(us Brits love an underdog in a fight)

... Make your bow deep
~with a flourish of resplendence~
that captures their hearts

try more than That wiggle
-and a lot more-
than one dance!

                       To do it well...                                                          ­              
get a catchphrase

(which we'll ALL lurvey darlink from the start)

Believe me,
is good

Always
is
    another...

try
the one
    you've used in  
   rehearsals with the
  Stepsisters
- all dragged up-
looking
L
   O      
       V      U
          E            G
               L       L      
                                                 Y              (like their mother)

                                                      
 ­                                   cough                       ­ 
                        
                                **** it..
                               Everyone chokes
                               on the dry ice that swirls!

                     The audience ponders....

WHO's the boys ?

THAT's... a... girl ?!  

 
                            &
                      in
                 the
               low
             glow   
            they'll see      
    Cinders singing
of loves' sweet melody,
  those s l o w shoe shuffles    
        softly sliding across their        
                                             t
                                                   r
                                 ­                        a
                                                               ­ p
                                                              ­                             door hearts  
Laughing & crying along through
each emotion of the tattered  
sweet princess, who     
         simply hasn't had        
                     a Prince in her...                
    winks
                           sights             
                                  (YET!)  
       
then
  Act II ends
with

a Flash!
&
a Bang!


 
They all lived  
ever after...
      
Cinders' happy?

*THE END
Enjoying the merry-men-t of Pant-Oh!
;)
Pantomine...Traditionally performed from Christmas ' til mid January, with family audiences.

A popular form of British theatre, incorporating song, dance, buffoonery, slapstick, cross-dressing, in-jokes, topical references, audience participation, and mild ****** innuendo.

SHE
ditches
           HIS crown &    
            shashy's away    
             with a
           fabulously
               well        
              practised        
                             courtesan                   
                     sway
                         .

(written, as part of the Yule-tired man series in December 2012)
Sarah Treaster Jun 2012
Courtney’s old subaru stuttered and stalled as she sat at the red light. The large blue duffle bag sat ominously on the leather seat beside her. She couldn’t look at it.
God, Luci. Why did you get yourself into trouble? Courtney’s mind was racing. Ridiculous. This is ridiculous. She ****** her head to look at the bag. It was bulging.
The bag was stained and dusty, ripped along the seams in some places. Courtney’s phone rang loudly. She jumped, and held onto the steering wheel with one hand and answered.
“Hello?”She was silent as the voice on the other end talked quickly. “No, I’m not there yet... yes, I’ve got it.. No, I haven’t touched it... Yes, sir. She’s very sorry... I know, sir. Yes I’’ll tell her.” She hung up. Her face was ghost white, her palms and forehead sweaty.
Many voices argued in her head. I shouldn’t be doing this for her. She broke the law. But Luci’s your sister! That doesn’t matter. She caused the whole family a lot of pain and money. And now I’M breaking the law. What the hell?!
She looked back over at the duffle bag. It sat staring at her accusingly. She turned away. Her car was getting awfully hot, so she rolled down the windows, letting air flow through. Checking her watch, she hiccuped with surprise. Her foot slammed down on the gas, her head pressed against her seat from the quick acceleration. Her car’s enging groaned with the speed, but she couldn’t slow down.
*******, Luci. I really hate you right now.
Suddenly, she saw flashing lights and heard a sharp wailing sound behind her. A police car pulled right up behind her, speeding along, signaling for her to pull over to the shoulder of the road. Courtney’s eyes were wide with fright, and her palms were sweating profusely, leaving stains on her steering wheel. Oh god oh god oh god oh god...Ohhhh my goddddd.
Courtney slammed on her breaks, pulling over. A man in uniform knocked on her window, and she rolled it down slowly. There was a loud noise from the passenger seat and Coutney’s world slowed as she saw the duffle bag fall to the floor of the car, the zipper breaking and the contents spilling onto the carpeted floor.
The policeman’s face was horrorstruck.
“Ma’am...” He stuttered. “I’m going to have to ask you to...step out of the car and put..put your hands on your head.”
Julianna Eisner Mar 2014
O broken and battered beatnik!
My tormented kindred spirit!
  I offer you a hundred lifetimes of my self-condemnation
  How can I deny finding portals to your spirit and soul with such ease any
longer?
  Only now how to reach you out on the physical plane...

Kick down my door painted black so I may crumble in your ****** arms like a poorly constructed sand fortress, sobbing salty tears of regret, wiping snot-nosed drivel onto your cotton-wool blended Ceredigion suit

I'm sorry!
I'm sorry!

Let me explain the truths of my hesitant trust, battered and bruised -- like affectionate kisses on the cheek with open and closed fists
and childhood neglect turned adult isolation -- like visitations in dank bars with hitchhiking mothers

Let me tell you how I closed my eyes as they saddled up to the roulette table,
Licking their wintery chapped lizard lips, and
  rubbing together their sticky hands
Placing their lucky chip
(free with the price of admission!)
On bets
Red.
    Black.
        Odd.
             Even.
I tried to rig the loaded ivory ball to fall on odds Green, Double Zero
house's edge
                                                              ..­.but...
Momentum lost,
Screams muffled as I saw them
  parade in celebration
Blowing trumpets and twirling batons,
  taming dancing bears in crinoline tutus

What have I done!?
What have I done!?

Punish me no more as I cower in my remorse!
Remove this needle from my tongue!
So I may provide the unheard voice in your narrative gap
When I found you alone, in an empty theatre, heaved there by a
  force so Divine
Never could I have conjured up a Love so true!
  Ohhhh! The tears!

Let us construct resolutions of brick and mortar placed
  hand-over-hand
Become co-conspirators and together
  build parallel neural pathways in our
       Meta-Mind
Our synaptic impulses firing in unison as
One
  neurotransmitter
We'll scribe the words spoken in real time
  pulling inspirations from our restful dreamlands
    coiled together in fetal spoons

I am here!
I am here!

Please grant unto me my only request,
allow me to hermit here awhile in this new warm home where I feel safe       and happy and fearlessly blissful
A quiet refuge
   most needed to rest my Self
Away from siren squawks that
   deafen feather-tufted ears
I may venture out for the news or for weekend browsing in local record         shops, but
      here
is where I reside and come home to you each night
Keep my literal words as a gift only to you
(But please paint dazzling murals with abracadabra brushstrokes, with every colour!)
Do not pass around my sacred scripts of our lore (we've been warned)
My trust is the most honourable endowment you could recieve, please cherish it as you so deserve
Give this unto me and I will give you
           an
        infinite
        well of
       musings
         and a
         legend
            for
            the
           ages!

I love you!
I love you!

O broken and battered beatnik!
Tortured kindred spirit!
  I offer you a hundred lifetimes of my devotion
  Your spirit and soul my course of navigation!
  Using compass and stars, meet me
  Wandering cautiously out on physical plains

I love you!
Louis Brown Nov 2012
Her gentle love would guide me
At the time I first appeared
From that big slap on my bottom
Through a lot of growing years
She could look pretty tall
With that hickory switch in hand
Her love helped me grow into a man

Later at a football game
A young beauty cheered our team
When she offered me a ride I said
"Don't pinch me--let me dream"
From the first time that I kissed her
My heart was in her hands
Her love helped me grow into a man

While the road from boy to man can be fantastic...
                Some angels have to work a little magic

She was twenty inches long
When her mother cried in pain
The doctor smacked our baby girl
And, ohhhh, she raised some cain
But she got a whole lot quieter
When I held her little hand
Her love helped me grow into a man

A man grows some each season
Till he's all that he can be
From a mother's care, through a love affair
To the last but not the least
They all were sent from heaven
And it worked out like He planned
Their love helped me grow into a man

Tag:  Three angels helped me grow into a man



Copyright Louis Brown
Kylprin Feb 2019
Loud world I find silence
Love my own pain
Don't want to forget yesterday
Wash away the pain
Bullet in my brain
It won't take it away
Sitting idle and awake  
I won't forget my mistakes
Oh am so scared
I sit all day alone on my bed
Got my pillow wet with my tears
Weeping for no reason

I beat my self all day
Starving myself thinking it will help
Rather i grow fat while starving
At night i pray for the night to pass by quickly
Thinking the day will be better
Yet another horrible day

I cry for no cause
What is it that make me so scared?
What is it that am afraid of ?
Yet i cant figure it out
I push people away
People that care and loved me
I push them away cos i wanna be left alone
Yet i do that for no reason

Am i scared of not having the life i deserved?
Am i scared of not having the love i wanted?
Am i scared of the hope which seems to fade away?
Am i scared of death
Yet the puzzle is left unsolved

What is it that am scared of
What is it that make me so scared
What is it that troubles my mind
What am i afraid of
The answer is me me me me ..................
Am scared of me
Am mad at me
Am ****** at me
I hate me
Ohhhh am so scared of me
Andrew Parker Dec 2013
jump, skip, hop, then POP!
August 2, 2011

So here's a playful tune
to make your body swoon.
Shake and bake those hips
pucker up and lick your lips.
Because tonight, we're dancing!

da lada dee da daaa laaa la laa ohhhh

I love the way you move like that
jumpin' 'n jivin', you're one cool kat.
So now we're getting down
laughing so much, are you a clown?
In our serene meadow, together, we're prancing!

Lemme catch you off guard, sweep you off your feet
this is the most romantic way I could think of for us to meet.
Now don't get me wrong, I mean I dress to impress
but girl, for you, I'd much rather wear less.
If you know what I mean, hiding my eyes glancing!

Excuse me mam, but I don't mean to be rude
or have you think my humor is too crude.
But for a special lady, lady, lady, oh so cute
I'll give it my my all, gotta take aim, then shoot.
Gotta get, gotta gotta, give you my all, all my romancing.

Boop boop be doop buh bahhh tra lalalahhh

Baby, so I've got you now forever maybe.
Squeeze you so freaking tight, 'till your soul leaves.
Enters my body and we intertwine, as it mentors.
Me and teaches how to be we.

koo koo cuh cahhh shoop doop la lahhh
Jump, Skip, Hop, then POP!
Michael Ambrosio Aug 2024
The current day is May 1st, 2024. I believe I might have found Brianna. And she’s gone. . .

About eight years ago from this date, I would have my first encounter with this mysterious girl. With all of this having taken course over such a long amount of time, a lot of the details are blurry compared to how solidified they used to be to me. But, back to the first encounter, although encounter sounds more like a passive aggressive frightening experience, I’m not sure what other word I might use to describe it. Maybe it was a chance meeting or divine intervention, but encounter gets the meaning across a bit more fluently, as every time I would find this girl I would be in total shock, utter disarray, and my heart would beat so fast I’d feel as though a heart attack was right around the corner.

The first time I ever met her was through a dream. . .

I can’t remember what this particular dream was. I’m not exactly sure what happened in it, why I found it so profound, or how it even got me to begin thinking about this girl. All I know was that it got my attention and I began to pay attention to this idea, this one night miracle where I first met this mysterious woman.

The night I had that dream, I’m pretty sure I thought nothing of it. Who doesn’t have a dream every so often where they’ve met their true love, their other half, their once in a lifetime love of their life? I’ve always been a bit of a hopeless romantic and I’ve always known that this was one of my deeply ingrained character traits. From my first ever year in school in first grade, I had a very large crush on this girl, Ashley Amaya, and I remember wanting so badly to be her crush as well. I even remember a moment from school when I saw a spider crawling towards her and me while walking across a paved walkway to get to our next class, and I leapt towards it and crushed it, despite having a massive fear of the little demons at the time. But, I did it to impress her!

All that to say, the first dream wasn’t extraordinary, and instead it was just another more than usual somber morning when I woke up only to realize the beautiful woman I had just met was probably a mixture of something I ate and some tv show I’d probably seen the afternoon before. Time would go by, the memory of that first dream fading to the farthest recess of my mind with only a hint of any remote recognition still reminiscing in the deepest abyss of my head.

But, this is when what started out as a dream began to become a bit more substantial. This is when Brianna began to plague my mind.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I began to have recurring dreams of being in love with this mysterious woman. She began to become more familiar in a very inconvenient and unreliable way which was of course through the remembering of my dreams. In the beginning stages, I’d only ever catch glimpses of her face and the reset was usually a silhouette or a very rushed moment. The rushed moments were hard to describe but they were full of light, always this wonderful warm yellow light and though they were rushed, time also slowed down significantly in a perplexing way that I still can’t really understand to this day.

I’d see her dark brown hair flowing and filtering the light into these tiny and magnificent rays making a twinkling in what was usually a dark atmosphere. I’d catch the corner of her mouth turning ever so slightly into a warm beautiful smile as she looked away, something else in the vicinity stealing her attention for the moment. There were intense feelings of joy and tranquility and there was a warmth about the situation I could only hope to ever feel in the true cold and lightless world we all collectively call home. Something about her was so intensely special, and the fact that I even got to share a dream with her was the highest privilege I could’ve ever received.

As time would go on, I’d continue to have these dreams. She always stayed the same, with her long dark brownish red hair flowing ever so gracefully. It got to the point that when I would have these dreams, I would’ve preferred to not wake up, just so I could spend more time with her.

Over a year would go by. At this point in life I was still just in high school and still brand new to learning life in the real world compared to the sheltered view I used to have. I had just gotten a job at the local Home Depot as a cashier, literally a few weeks after I got my license since my parents were unwilling to pay for gas for me (as good parents should do!) I was still figuring out life with my friend groups and trying to balance the reality of starting to become more mature and take on more responsibilities while still trying to cling to my childhood of digging holes and bashing legos against the wall with my brothers! It was an odd time, which I guess many can easily familiarize themselves with the timeframe as we’ve all at one point been teenagers.

One of the biggest things in my life I remember being a bit troublesome though, was all my friends I had made and my groups of people I had become so entangled with. With going through these changes, I had some friends that were still absolute children at heart and some friends who were practically ready for college! I had loads of moments through those years where these friends I had grown up with would start to feel like strangers and I’d begin to not really feel as though I had a social place to call my own.

Work was a new outlet, and I actually used to love talking to people as a cashier, ringing up their items, and learning the social norm of small talk that would amount to nothing less than an afterthought. I made a lot of friends with people who were retired and with college kids who seemed to be the coolest bunch around, who knew how to live life and have fun doing it. It was such a variety of friends where I’d talk to Tina about her granddaughter or Jim about his retirement and stock options and then I’d go up to Isaiah and he’d tell me about all the dates he’d been on or all the party stories of him and his friends living life to the fullest. It was a pretty great time in my life though, because one thing especially it taught me was how to be social, though this process would still take years and years to fully develop until I was in my early 20’s to be fully confident in my ability to put it on and be charismatic if need be. The reason I mention so much about this job though, was there was still a deep  and unrecognized subconsciously aware desire in me to meet the one.

Home Depot of all places was the first time I saw her. In person. . .

I remember it was a day much like the rest of them. After having struck up some conversation with our customers and being a little groggy from waking up at the crack of dawn for the early shift, it was time for me to finally get some lunch. While taking my usually route from the front of the hardware store I stopped at my usual coworkers stations to say hi or make a passive joke as I strolled happily on my way.

I can’t exactly remember why, but I had the need to talk to one of my managers, and it was something I needed a response for by the end of the day, so I figured before I clocked out for lunch, I’d get that little task out of the way. But, on the way back to my manager’s office, which was this little 10 foot hallway with doors on either side, one leading to a bank of sorts, and the other side hosting two doorways to offices, I was stopped in my tracks. Right next to the old clock-in machine were two seats where you’d usually sit and wait if the manager’s doors were closed so you could catch them as they walked out. They were also the seats I had sat in when waiting to get an interview for this first job of mine, where I nervously and anxiously awaited the outcome so many years ago.

In one of those broken down, flat cushioned little seats was a girl so beautiful, I literally lost my breath at the sight of her. I knew immediately who she was. She was the girl from my dreams I had been having over the course of that past year or so. Recently through my dreams, I had learned a very crucial detail about her and that was that her name was Brianna, and there sitting right before me within a few steps walk was the girl.

I froze. I made eye contact. And I immediately turned around and walked away. How I wish beyond wishing I would’ve said hi now. . .

Seeing that my manager was currently in the process of onboarding her as a new employee, I decided to take up my little question with my manager a bit later and I went to lunch. While walking into our break room, I ran into one of my new co-workers who I had become pretty good friends with. His name was Brad Brad.

At this point in time, I had more of an idea and more of a recognition of the fact that these recurring dreams of mine were something special, though I hardly let anyone know because of how embarrassing and odd it was. I mean, who would go around blindly telling people about some chick that they’d been dreaming of that they were totally in love with?? (Definitely not me eight years late. . . ) But with Brad Brad, I trusted him and had told him about the story a few days prior to running into her.

Not knowing her name and only having seen her face, I walked up to my friend and asked him about the new possible employee. He immediately knew who I was referring to her as he had seen her just a bit ago and apparently gotten to know her slightly! I asked him if her name was Brianna, being almost definitively sure that that was her name, and just wanting to check to see if I was either certifiably insane, or possibly blessed with this odder than life knowledge.

Brad immediately confirmed her name was Brianna and asked if I had spoken with her, and this immediately had me out of breath, terrified of how the girl from my dreams was truly true and realer than life. I don’t remember exactly how the rest of the conversation went down, though I can safely assume I was blabbering like a lunatic and telling him every single detail of every single dream I had had of her before. I walked out to get lunch knowing that I’d finally become acquainted with Brianna over time in the work atmosphere which was a relief to me, knowing how social I was at work while in comparison to how introverted and quiet I was at school. Life was looking to good to be true.

Brianna, didn’t get the job.

A few days would go by and my excitement to go to work was through the roof. Never before had I had so eagerly gotten in my car, driven to work, and immediately clocked in in hopes of seeing this new girl around the work place. A week would go by and my thoughts of her were still as excited as ever, but I began to realize that there was still training, a full on hiring process, and that it would most likely take time for things to get in motion. A few weeks would go by and then a month and an unsettling worry began to haunt me as I started to wonder if she didn’t actually get the job.

I started going around asking all of my fellow co-workers if they knew her or if they had any ideas of if we were hiring anyone new. I became obsessed with what we called the, “war board,” which was a schedule of all cashiers’ schedules for the day, what departments they would work in and so forth so on. But, I never saw Brianna’s name pop up, and I began to realize that I might have missed my one and only chance of getting to talk to Brianna.

As time progressed I finally decided it was time to talk to Brad about this new girl since he had been the only one I had talked to about her, and this is when the strangest thing ever happened. Brad had absolutely no idea who I was talking about. He could tell I was obsessed with the idea though and he saw how persistent I was that I had had the conversation with him before, and he even sympathetically lied to me about knowing her just to appease my insanity by saying,

“Ohhhh yeahhhhhhhhh! I remember who you’re talking about!”

I was crushed that the only person who knew her didn’t remember her and at the time I’m unsure of why I didn’t ask my manager to see if they knew who I was talking about. Maybe it was embarrassment or the thought of not being able to see other potential employee’s information that scared me. Either way, I wish I had asked more and been more determined in finding information on what had happened to Brianna.

Months and months on end would go by and the fascination with work would disappear as I got older. I’d check the war board on a pretty consistent basis always hoping that by some miracle, Brianna would show up to work for the day! And even though we eventually would go on to hire an incredible Brianna that I’d become such dear friends with, she wasn’t the same one.

I remember how I used to day dream about Brianna walking into the store and how I would recognize her and how we’d instantly fall in love. Especially on those hot hot Summer days when I was stuck in the garden department with nothing but my thoughts and a dream. As life began to progress though, I realized I didn’t want to only dream about Brianna. . . but I wanted to find her! What good was all my wallowing around if I didn’t make any active attempts to find her!

Thus began, the searching for Brianna. What might just be an everlasting one. . .

I began to take a reality check on this recurring girl who haunted my every thought and when wondering on how I would find a girl from my literal dreams, I thought maybe the first best place to look would be there! Literally in my dreams. I took on an idea I had borrowed from the movie Inception where first thing in the morning, if you try to remember your dreams you’d have a better chance of seeing more details.

Doing more research into this line of thought, I read about dream journals and how some people keep entries of their nightly subconscious activities in order to become better at what’s called lucid dreaming, where basically, you have full and utter control of the dream and realize that you’re in it while still sleeping. My dream journal over time would start to slowly fill and fill with some pretty crazy stories and hilarious dreams. Actually, I wonder if I still have it. If I can find it, I’ll drought down one of my entries here for you to read. . . whoever “you” might be.

I won’t lie when I say I found it in about one minute. It was sitting on my desk right next to me. Oddly enough, my first journal entry is far further in this story than I thought as it was written on October 9th, 2022 (thank God I wrote down dates!) Here goes my first entry.

10-09-22 (#1)

My first dream, I remember being at Home Depot, working while pushing carts. I was very sick and delusional and the atmosphere was rainy and dark. All I could feel was gloom and sadness. There was no one to help me which added to the exhaustion. A customer managed to break 3 carts in half and I had to try and fix them, but I couldn’t. The feeling of wanting to go home was very strong.

10-09-22 (#2)

This time I was in a small class with two other men. It was our first day and our professor was already making us write books worth of homework. But, she soon assigned us Minecraft assignments and the rest of the class was devoted to playing Minecraft. A mixture of falling while playing the game repeatedly occurred and was frightening, yet exhilarating and fun.

Though my timeline of the dream journal and me beginning to write it might be skewed in this story I’ve been telling, as you can see from October 9th’s dreams of the year 2022, it was in fact something I started to do. There were quite a few pages from this journal missing and I can’t recall if they were pages of old homework from school and the notebook was one I self-recycled or not. But, I thought I had started writing these way earlier in my life. Maybe one day, I’ll write up all of these dreams into some sort of official funny document, but as of right now, they’ll all stay in that book. It might honestly be for the better!

Either way, it’s obviously apparent that I became obsessed with this idea of Brianna and I began to play my life events in my head over and over again, and this might have been harmful to me later on, but at the early stages of these occurrences, I was very much into reading. Being the introvert that I was in school, and having no access to a smart device, I used to read so so so many books all the time! My best friend in high school wasn’t any other student really but the faculty and staff, specifically our school librarian Mrs. Hogue.

Every time I’d walk into that library which was probably like twice a week, she’d see me and know it was time for me to become obsessed with a new story or spend the next however many months of my life engrossed in a series. I absolutely loved Mrs. Hogue and while she was very strict with all the other obnoxious kids, she loved me too. We used to talk about life and such and the day I graduated, she was one of the people I made sure of to talk to her and wish her a goodbye to.

Anyways, this obsession with writing and reading of mine was one that really flourished during high school due to these circumstances. It feels rather odd writing now when I haven’t gone about it aside from formal essays and school work since specifically 2018.

2018 was the year that I decided to run with a lot of these creative concepts my mind had created over Brianna and turn them into an actual book with full on character development, a family for Brianna, a place to live and friendships and occupations of all sorts! This is why I mentioned just earlier that this might’ve been more harmful to me, because, sometimes I can’t remember with Brianna what’s memories and what’s a figment of my imagination developed by a creative and passionate former younger writer of myself.

Either way, at this point in my life you could tell I was so devoted to the idea of Brianna being a real person, and this one specific idea plagued me like no other.

The idea was that Brianna was also dreaming of me and that we could only communicate through our collective dreams.

This idea for a young hopeless romantic was intensely alluring and from this idea became the now published and only book of mine, “The Fracture of Reality.” In this book, there’s two main characters named Ian and Brianna. Ian oddly enough matches almost identically all my physical and intellectual traits, some of the only differences being him having a place of his own, a pretty successful job and a bit more muscle, almost as though he were a version of myself I hope to one day be.

Brianna, well, she was and is the Brianna that I know.

The premise of this book was, well how should I put it? Better yet, I’ll just plug in the summary from the back of the book I wrote many years ago!

“Dreams and reality are relatively similar terms. Dreams describe and amplify events that occur in reality whereas reality can capture what little glimpses of the dreams remain. But, it never occurred to me that the two could blur together. Only when it was too late did I start to realize that reality was fracturing…”

Although this summary doesn’t really expound on what the book was about, only now do I find it so profound that I established this saying, this line of thought while I was still younger. I’ll write to you now that the basic premise of the story was a bit of a thriller! Ian begins to have these dreams where he meets and speaks to this mysterious tranquil and beautiful girl. He starts to fall in love with her as he slowly begins to realize that she is in fact real and having dreams of him also. But, with his dreams comes the slow beginning of his down fall where his dreams start to predict horrific events that will occur relatively soon. Along with the dreams comes the mental breaking down of his sanity with a deadly progression exponentially on it’s way to happen far too soon. Through the connecting of his dreams, he needs to find Brianna who he hopes when finding her, will stop the terrifying decline of his conscious nature.

In the end, and [insert spoiler warning here hehe], Ian finally meets up with Brianna only to have one of his dreams predict a horrible event of him and her being hunted by some men that Brianna had gotten in bad with during her youthfully naïve years. The story ends with Brianna and Ian in a cottage after Ian in real life has been shot. The story ends with Ian being unsure as to whether or not his dream reality is real life, or if his reality with the pain of the bullet in him is the truth. Brianna tells him that it doesn’t matter, and tries to convince him that the current peaceful reality that they’re currently in? That that moment and that present feeling is real, and that’s what really truly matters.

Look at me, doing a synopsis of my own books six years later! Writing this book and creating my dream journal and doing research was really the first phase of my obsession with Brianna. The older I’d get though, the more it’d become real to me. I’m unsure as to whether the past eight years of my life has made this idea so authentically real to me, but now I see this all as fact rather than speculation and a possible decline in my sanity that I used to be subconsciously aware of.

More years would progress in my life and would lead to the graduation of my high school and the starting up of college at my community college. There, I’d me one of my best friends which will most likely be my best friend for life KJ, but it was also a time of maturing and shying away from the ideas of Brianna as much. Rather than focusing on the idea of her, instead I got so busy with work at Home Depot, balancing friendships at community college, and still trying to socialize with my family that I hardly thought of her.

But, circumstances would change and even though I went a while without thinking about her, she was always there. When I began my first semester at Columbia State and accidentally sat next to this absolutely beautiful girl named, you guessed it, “Brianna,” I thought that she was her! Only to find out like literally two days into the semesters that she was married, whoops! But I still became friends with her and weird stuff like that would occur every so often, but at this point in time, life was changing so rapidly and my mind was always so distracted that Brianna began to fade.

I’d still have my occasional dreams and when those hit, it’d be more difficult than it used to be. The feeling of wanting to stay in those dreams was so strong and so hard to swallow when I woke up and realized it’d only been in my head.

With school starting though, my priorities changed a lot in life! My job was the least of my concerns at Home Depot and I’d more often than not skip all of my shifts as it always drained me of all my energy having to socialize with a bunch of people I didn’t care for or care about. All the small talk became irritating and whenever I was there, I guess I had come to associate that little hardware store with the idea of loss and gloom. I mean, if my dream journal didn’t speak enough for itself, I think it’s because I missed out on my one and only chance to actually talk to Brianna.

My new priorities were to make as many friends as possible and to turn this new page in life and that’s exactly what I did! I was incredibly social and went out of my way to introduce myself to total strangers just to try and escape the old Mike and pursue a new version of him.

It wouldn’t take long for Brianna to come back to me though.

Nobody that tells you how quickly life goes by can truly explain the depths of what that means and you sort of need to experience it yourself, and with the pandemic of Covid-19 happening around 2020, those two years at community school and the two years at MTSU would go by like a wisp of air. Like a breath, **** the time went by. Sure there was quite a bit of stuff that happened throughout that time, like me beginning to fall in love with creating content through YouTube about Minecraft, getting internships and freelance work for my degree as a Graphic Designer where I won competitions and published my art in many places and had the opportunities to be in a crazy high end internship.

But the amount of time, was just literally gone. I was too busy. Brianna became an afterthought.

That is, until fairly recently. To drop some dates for you, I created my first official youtube channel on September 18th, 2019 and published my first video four years ago a day after I made the channel. At first, my channel of Minecraft specific content was created both to prove to my brothers that I could create content as incredible as the youtubers we watched, but it was also just in hopes of turning it into an actual career since it was something I genuinely was okay at. Having had architecture for for years in high school Minecraft felt like a more creative and liberating way to express those abilities and live them out in an actual environment I had created. But also, Minecraft was an excuse for me to turn off my mind.

Covid and the pandemic was sort of the greatest thing to ever happen to me, because it gave me so much time to think and play this wonderful game. I know I mentioned above how I didn’t think about Brianna that much, and that part is true, but when I had those dry moments of playing Minecraft and grinding out some simple tasks of literally just breaking and placing blocks, my mind would wander to her. I used to choose the most essentially mind numbing tasks of mining for hours upon hours which only consisted of holding down a button and occasionally moving your character around to mine some more. But though the task was completely and utterly boring, my mind was active as ever thinking and wondering about Brianna.

Finding these quiet moments in life were far and few between, but I began to cherish them. All the moments from day dreaming while mowing the lawn and sweating to death in the 100 degree sun, to sitting in my car after a long first four hours at Home Depot while staring at a semi-vacant parking lot, to even just the long walks across my enormous campus at MTSU or the long walk from parking spots I chose purposefully to be super far away from my campus at Columbia State. These moments while rare, gave me a chance to keep Brianna at least in the back light of all the real life moments I was constantly distracted and thrown around with.

But, going back to Minecraft when I got into youtube, this changed everything.

I went from having at least some spare moments to having literally no moments at all. The only time I would rest was when I had experienced such bad burn out from trying to do everything everywhere all at once, and between that and the occasional sleep I would get, my mind had no time to think. I still can easily get into that workaholic mind set sometimes and it’s a dangerous one to be in, but I’ve gotten better as I’ve figured out why I believe I fell into that mindset in the first place.

The reason was to escape Brianna’s grasp.

As I went through school hanging out with friends and making new one’s internationally through the development of an ever expanding youtube channel, I had just about no time for anything. The only time I had to stop and think was my 10 minute drive to get food and even in those moments, I had no time to think, because I was too busy driving trying not to get killed by crazy drivers.

Three years of school went by before I finally said that enough was enough. With school being as difficult as it was, I decided to “retire” from my newfound love of youtube because in all honesty, it was driving me mad. My retirement video from Minecraft came out on December 5th, 2022. I stepped away from the never ending grind and set out to enjoy life and the little moments that life offered.

The only problem with this was that my mind began to ponder Brianna once again.

At this time in my life, after retiring I was actually working for a famous youtuber named PrestonPlayz. It was a random freelance job and for the past year or so I had been jumping from freelance to freelance work with little regards to cost and payments real life had always waiting around the corner for me.

This would make me end up ultimately getting a job back at Home Depot for a few months to pay off debts I had incurred from being financially stupid and buying stuff I didn’t really need. But, between all the financial problems and weird life situations I had so much more time to think about Brianna. The dreams of her still occurred every so often but the frequency at which they had started to occur was less and less. Maybe this was all due to me reaching a new level of maturity, but I’m still not entirely sure what caused it. Maybe it was the distraction of a busy workaholic life or the hopes to find someone, really anyone that was a girl that would love me that I could love back.

But, like I said my mind began to think about her more and more. I began to see her in my thoughts like I had years ago previously and it almost felt like I was back sliding into some weird territory I had just grown oblivious to with the amount of time that had passed. Either way, that was my life. A jumbled mess of thoughts and ideas all scattered in a brain far too busy to stop and breathe coming to the new age of silence and habit.

With my mind able to breathe, I thought of her again. . . and then I saw her again. . .

I can’t remember the exact day or time of year, but on one of these days of my “retirement” I was driving home after having just gotten some taco bell. (I was obsessed with the place back then) Driving up my street, I saw a girl with long dark curly hair and bright pink clothes, what might have even been pajama pants on her, walking up my street! I didn’t think much of it until I looked into my sider mirror and saw her face and saw that it was the one and only, Brianna.

Brianna was walking up my street right next to my house. In person. Alive and breathing.

I panicked and jumped out of my car with my taco bell nearly crashing to the ground as I roared into park in my driveway with my car. With bare feet, since I used to drive with no shoes when I went to fast food place, I dove onto an aggregate driveway and started running down it, knowing that there was no way on earth I was missing my chance to finally talk to her. I had nothing but time that day, and I was overly excited to finally introduce myself in person

But when I turned around, Brianna was gone. She’d simply vanished into thin air? I still don’t know how or why, but she was gone. . . possibly gone forever. . .

This experience drove my efforts to find her to another level of passion as I began to research through many google forums and sites and social media platforms praying to God that I’d be able to find her. It didn’t matter if I had to cross the entire ocean to get to her, I was going to find Brianna, no matter what.

I started to revisit old ground and went to the Home Depot I had worked at, asking the new manager there if he could search records and being able to find her that way. I found old coworkers I used to work with and asked around trying to find any trail or any lead and couldn’t find a single thing. I even managed to find Brad Brad’s Instagram and messaged him only for him to have literally no idea what I was talking about, go figure.

With nothing working and having literally no idea on what else I could do, I began to passionately work on a project called, “The Bri of My Dreams.” What this basically was was an ARG or alternate reality game which was a puzzle game I setup for my prior youtube community to solve and have fun with. But, it was more than that. It was the telling of the story of Brianna in a way that I could hopefully publicize and gain some popularity on so that maybe instead of me finding Brianna, she’d be able to rather find me! So, I started working on it behind the scenes unbeknownst to anyone in my community that I was going to use this new found passion project to hopefully find her, but also to bring me back to youtube content creation.

To this day, I’m still not sure why I wanted to go back to youtube. Well I know some underlying reasons, that being tied loosely to Brianna, but now many months later still being at it, I’m unsure as to the real reason why I still create stuff on there.

Either way, after creating an entire animated short film with a script and what I consider to be one of my greatest projects of all time, “The Bri of My Dreams” project was finalized and ready to publish. I put it out there hoping that it was only a matter of time before I finally heard from her.

Hardly anyone noticed I’d returned to youtube, let alone my project failing horribly as only close friends I knew even attempted the puzzles.

My final efforts produced literally no results, and well, this brings me to about right now, this moment that I’m actually writing this all down on May 1st 2024 at 4:21 p.m CDT. For the past few hours I’ve written down all of this while listening to The Caretaker album on youtube, a depressing soundtrack meant to represent the stages of alzheimer's.

This morning while sitting around doing nothing really, I looked up Brianna one last time, despite me telling myself I would be done with her after my ARG project. I found a girl, about the same age as me that matched the name and the description. Her father’s name was funnily enough the same as my own, Michael.

What I found about her and her father were obituary statements.

I’m unsure if it’s okay or morally right to even think that might’ve been her, but something I noticed when doing research about Brianna in my earlier days. . . For some odd reason there’s a lot of young beautiful Briannas who unfortunately die in their early 20’s. It’s an odd and horrifying fact I’ve come to know over the past few years through my odder than odd research.

But, this case I found today? Well the exact date this Brianna died on correlated almost exactly when my dreams stopped of her.

I don’t dream of Brianna anymore. I haven’t for years. . .

I think the reason I’m writing this, is my own way of finally saying goodbye. Wherever she is, I hope she’s okay. I hope she’s well. But as for me, life continues to go on and it’s finally time after these past eight years to finally say. . .

Goodbye Brianna. I’ll miss you. . .
Clay Face Nov 2019
Ohhhh you can lead a frown.
But don’t expect your crown.
For we’re not easily snowed.
Cause we know you’re  known.
Tough, you can pick a fight. Ha.
Weak, you are insecure.
We. Know. Who you are.

Please, be back soon.
Honesty. Awaits you.
Generous, we like to be.
So gracious, we should see.
You Lie, behind your back. Foolish.
We. Know. Who you are.

Ohhhh, you can lead a sin.
But all equal, and forgiven’
Seek, halfheartedly.
You’ll only exist, and die existentially.
For we know you’re known.
Feel, free to be.
Reality, you can’t see.
We. Know. Who you are.

Embrace, humanities.
Disgrace in your humanity.
But who are we to judge you?
And to say what we say is true?
Leave in distaste, find a new pace.
For who are we to strike you down?
You do that to yourself anyway.
Zead Aug 2014
Ohh the shattered vase of your heart
And the colors that refract
You are my lsd
You are my water
Quite tainted water
I stopped drinking from you a long time ago
But I still haven’t recovered
I want to love you
But I simply can’t live in reality’s lie
Your quest is ignoring the conclusion
That there is no foundation in your ways

I’d make you feel how you would do
But I know that my eyes were a gift from God
As they are slowly blinding down
I know that my sight isn’t true for me
like yours
once tools used in vanity

Ohhhh imaginary mizpah
My delusional YUGEN
Incessant love and fear under tamed pain
******* the harlot out of me

I can’t tell you enough
It’s foolsgold
Please love
No gender will be it seems in the gates of Heaven
And every emotion more magical than any tongue

Be the painter of with-in-side your veins
And craft from what you create-not destry
I envied, you Were my world
But don’t envy the world
Whatever yours is
It’s just us in the midst of spirit D-DAY

I hate writing songs for you
It makes them old and die
Too weak to say no
For your granted *** sake

Please forsake your ways ------ ---
I need you to ******* become sane

Be stubborn now be broken later
Get broken now and become what matters.
I know what you want
Fantasia is your middle name
But reality has another story
And when you realize
That your mind is limited
But can see beyond it
Then you can care less about all of the things that mattered to you
yellow-thoughts Jan 2018
hi, i'm blonde now.

and everyone loves it so much
but why?
why you people like this simple color
it's so boring and plain
ohhhh i hate it so much

it remainds me of perfection
it's just like BARBIE
that freaking doll
and you all like it
and i'm starting to hate
you all for that!
like what color should i get next? >.<
Justin Rio Sep 2014
My crush is online
I am too
What if i chat her?
I dunno

I typed a message
I like you
Just press the enter
I can't do!

She turns to offline
Ohhhh noo!

#love #sad #tb

— The End —