Intuition

 

Listen to me,

Let me guide you,

When truths try to hide from you,

Let my voice,

Help you make a choice.

 

I’m your gut feeling,

A part of you,

That you may not believe in,

But if you’d maybe stop to listen,

I could become the one,

On which you most depend.

 

I’m that impression in your mind,

That’s more like just an inkling,

Though not coming off too forceful,

My message is still powerful,

It can save you from countless circumstances,

And prevent you from taking needless chances.

 

When I send shivers down your spine,

It’s not just some nobody,

Feeding you a line,

Don’t discount it,

But take the warning,

To save yourself from mourning.

 

Proceed with caution,

When I send a premonition,

Consider seriously,

Before proceeding,

When you’re met,

With that foreboding feeling.

 

If you feel me in your bones,

There’s a reason for their moans and groans,

It’s paramount you pay attention,

Else your soul stop singing,

And funeral bells begin ringing.

 

I know I’ve raised your suspicions,

And given you a hunch,

In a bunch of situations,

When your mind seemed out to lunch,

Now here,

Accept a final warning,

Take heed,

So your eyes open come morning.

Independence Day 2020

The Earth is beautiful,

But the World is one hot mess,

Are we all fuct?

Have you all given up?

 

Because I was born,

The same way I’ll die,

And that is free,

One hundred percent,

Not just to some degree.

 

Some people seem to know,

Just what buttons to press,

To start another war,

It about makes me envious,

Of those about to go knocking,

On death’s door.

 

Before all the land was settled up,

The pioneers had the right idea,

They were wild and free,

And lived off the land,

Never submitting to laughable laws,

Of another man.

 

Slow and steady,

The years passed by,

The population grew,

And everyone thought,

They knew what was best to do.

 

Now there is this piece of shit,

Known as politics,

No matter how far you travel,

There’s no escaping it,

They’re at your local grocery store,

And at the nearby sea shore,

Face it,

Once you’ve dared,

Walk out your door,

You’re not free,

And nothing’s fair.

 

Now here I sit,

Trying to make,

Some sense of it,

It’s looking like half are lying,

Just to set the others crying,

It won’t be long,

And the tables will turn,

Somehow everybody’s right,

Though both sides say,

The other is wrong.

 

This year,

Freedom is not ringing,

It really hasn’t for some time,

Well last I checked,

My taxes are paid,

So I’ll do as I please,

In this supposed Home Of The Brave.

 

Excuses to sidepass unconstitutional rules,

Should not be essential,

And a possible arrest,

Should not even have potential,

I ask,

Why celebrate the Fourth,

If you don’t discern its worth,

And if you do indeed identify,

Rather than fall prey to political lies,

You should act free,

And you should act brave,

Until you are called,

To your grave.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hmmmmm……….

I don’t know why,

A storm rolls in light before sound,

But I do know this,

The rain it brings,

Makes the browned ground rebound.

 

I don’t know why,

Black is associated with evil,

But I do know this,

Colorful things can be lethal,

And darkness can be regal.

 

I don’t know why,

Trees can produce paper,

But I do know this,

If we keep being takers,

We’ll regret it later.

 

I don’t know why,

It’s normal for heads to grow hair,

But I do know this,

I’d wear a lot more hats,

If up there were bare.

 

I don’t know why,

Green means go,

But I do know this,

There’s always at least one,

Determined to go too slow.

 

I don’t know why,

Good belongs on the road less traveled,

But I do know this,

It’s supposed to be worth it,

At the striking of the final gavel.

 

I don’t know why,

Pies are made round,

But I do know this,

I’ve found they’re not worth,

The extra pounds.

 

I don’t know why,

We let machines replace people,

But I do know this,

Progress’s side effects,

Spiral down,

And cause something else to cripple.

 

I don’t know why,

The movie is never as good as the book,

But I do know this,

So many will never know,

Because the book they’ve overlooked.

 

I don’t know why,

It’s impossible to get out of life alive,

But I do know this,

Lately it’s a wonder,

If there’s anything left,

For which to survive.

 

I don’t know why,

Hearts are commonly drawn in red,

But I do know this,

It makes perfect sense,

Because any time they’ve gotten hurt – they’ve bled.

 

I don’t know why,

Wasted time seems to fly,

But I do know this,

What you must do next,

Will force your expression to wry.

 

I don’t know why,

The sun doesn’t shine at night,

But I do know this,

Missing its light,

Doesn’t make the dark,

Any less of a welcome sight.

 

I don’t know why,

Time can’t stand still,

But I do know this,

It would be a convenience to have it at the beck and call,

Of my own free will.

 

I don’t know why,

Fire is hot,

But I do know this,

It makes marshmallows,

Taste as they ought.

 

I don’t know why,

All religions believe themselves correct,

But I do know this,

It appears they all,

Need to be fact-checked.

 

 

 

Catastrophic Controversy

Hell is here,

But don’t let that get in the way,

Of living your life today,

Put your angst aside,

And get the fuck outside.

 

Hell is here,

That much closer to Doomsday,

And the Man Downstairs,

Is trying to take,

An early payday.

 

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

You won’t find no sugar-coatings here,

I say,

Fucking relax,

Because facts are facts,

Your time is your time,

It is predetermined,

By not your brain nor mine,

If it’s meant to nab you,

You can not halt it,

And if you’re meant to survive,

At the end you will still,

Be fucking ALIVE!

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

 

You must realize,

It’s coughing all around us,

Now we’re coated with its germs,

So expecting the worst,

From this curse,

Everyone’s common sense,

Has become paralyzed.

 

Hell is here,

Stupid souls,

Let it take control,

Rather than live and let live,

Blame is thrown at others,

Who just innocently go about their business,

And long after this is done,

They won’t think it’s fun,

When their targets,

Find it fucking impossible,

To forgive.

 

Hell is here,

What was alright,

Has become taboo,

At least to you,

But speak to another,

And you’re told it’s no thing,

Really,

The world is about to recover.

 

Hell is here,

Times are dark,

Days have vibes,

Like the witching hour,

Daunting and full,

Of the Devil’s power.

 

Hell is here,

It’s been a long time comin’

And would you look at that now?

Many who talk a big talk,

Are frantic and running.

 

Hell is here,

It takes just a sneeze,

To knock a once-badass,

To their fucking knees.

 

Hell is here,

And that black-clad bastard,

Is trying to shine,

So let’s not let him get away with tainting,

People and places divine.

 

Reality

Here in the real world,

It’s too busy for Christmas,

Too busy for the Claus’s,

Mister and Missus.

 

Out here in the real world,

There’s money to make,

The world for us revolves around work,

And there’s no time to take,

Holiday breaks.

 

Here it is,

February now,

And I know it’s way past time,

But here in the real world,

I’m just now finding a minute,

To put pen to paper,

For a Christmassy rhyme.

 

Sugar cookies never did,

Go into the oven,

No stockings were hung,

Or carols sung,

Here in the real world,

It’s not important to build traditions,

For we are all on a mission,

That holidays don’t seem to fit in.

 

Seasonal frippery,

And packages full of mystery,

Under a flashy tree,

Aren’t part of the real world,

Here we barely notice,

That these things have come to be regarded,

As a great importance.

 

Here in the real world,

We’re generally busy,

With no spare time to prepare,

A monstrous feast,

So we gladly give a miss,

To the customary gathering,

Where anyway there is always,

Too much blabbering.

 

Out there in your world,

Christmas is a big priority,

And you view those over here,

As some kind of freak minority,

With kiddies to raise,

And memories to be made,

Presents must be present,

From wall to wall,

So you buy out the whole mall,

But here in the real world,

We have other things that please us,

And it’s not feasible,

To deal with such fuss.

 

 

 

 

 

The World’s Wrong Turn

Ah!

Another Thanksgiving,

About to come to a close,

And it may leave you in awe,

That all I did was doze and watch shows.

 

I did not have a celebration,

Hey don’t worry though,

I’m suffering from neither,

Sadness or starvation.

 

The worst part it seems,

Of this once-revered holiday,

Is the way people fall prey,

To what’s known as Black Friday.

 

One minute they’re lazily,

Sitting around,

With friends and family,

All stuff their faces,

And name off the year’s blessings,

Then low and behold they race,

From place to place,

Completely losing any trace,

Of their earlier grace.

 

But I won’t be bothered,

With such a shopping slaughter,

It does not matter,

How good is an offer.

 

When the fuck did people’s views,

Become so skewed?

This is about the farthest,

From a celebration of harvest,

That the world could have moved.

 

When did Friday,

Start to begin on a Thursday?

And when did shopping,

Become paramount to turkey,

And popcorn popping?

 

It has become commercialized,

And so full of fucking lies,

No longer is it just the start,

To a time of giving,

And don’t kid yourself,

We’ve all played a part,

In the season’s right reasons leaving.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Proverbial Angel And Devil

There is a battle between good and evil,

It’s raging in everyone’s soul,

It takes two halves,

To make any of us whole,

It goes a little like this:

“Do this,

Or I’ll get pissed”!

And,

“No! Please!

Don’t listen to that!

I smell a rat”!

 

These two whisper battles,

Day in,

And day out,

Trying to win my affections,

So I’ll follow their directions.

 

One so bad,

He should make me mad,

But when he speaks,

I hear happy squeaks,

The opposite so good,

I should maybe knock on wood,

For when he says walk,

I cheerily ask,

For guidance to his flock.

 

I’d be better off,

As a one-man show,

But in each situation,

Inside my skull,

My conscience hears two little voices,

That just won’t dull.

 

What the fuck?

Is there a way,

To shut them up?

They’ve been keeping everyone company,

Since the Dawn Of Time,

Shouldn’t they have expired by now?

I’d think they should be,

Way past their prime.

 

I picture the one having horns,

Bearing a black pitchfork,

The other wearing a white robe,

With twinkling stars,

Hanging from delicate earlobes.

 

They represent the two main things,

That drive this world,

Wicked and righteous,

And as thoughts of both,

Course through all our minds,

It would seem we are all one part sinister,

And another part divine.

 

Does either one,

Ever win?

Can one being be,

One hundred percent,

Just goodness or sin?

I’d say no one is perfect,

We’re really each a mix,

Of halos and that creepy,

Six-six-six.

 

 

 

We Frustrate Me

Nothing but distaste,

For the human race,

When further I think on it,

The more the hate,

Picks up the pace.

 

They strive to thrive,

Headfirst they dive,

Into normalcy,

Also known as crazy,

And what a waste,

It’s not as though,

They’re leaving alive.

 

Flitting about here and there,

And most don’t care,

About a thing,

Unless it’s theirs,

And even then,

It’s hard for some,

Not to act like scum.

 

The other day,

I was at the store,

Everyone was there,

Rich and poor,

Saints and whores,

As well as everything between,

After looking high,

And looking low,

They all had,

One thing in common though,

They all needed something,

Their money couldn’t buy.

 

I’m sick of dealing,

With them and their issues,

There’s the alcoholics,

And there’s the apostolics,

Some are even diabolical,

I wonder,

When the fuck,

Did this psycho mix,

Become typical?

 

Let me tell you,

The whole lot is fuct,

If they keep waiting around,

For a run of good luck,

We each make or break our own fortune,

No one is immune,

Now quit looking so god-damn forlorn,

And go grab a new life,

By the horns.

 

Are you wondering when,

I’ll make my point?

There isn’t one,

Yet this wasn’t written,

Just for the fun.

 

 

 

LOL @ “Love”

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

I wish you well,

My fellow ladies,

And may you forever steer clear,

Of the ones who are crazy.

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

 

It does not exist,

At least,

Not in the genre,

For which we all hope and pray.

 

It’s fictional,

And I am not being stereotypical,

But it’s simple fact,

It exists abundantly in other forms,

But that one,

Produces toxic storms in swarms.

 

I wonder why this is so?

Why we let bliss turn into,

Row after row?

I’d almost rather,

Never have had it at all,

Than go through,

The predestined fall.

 

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

 

First you think you’ve found it,

Seems to you,

You’ve found a perfect fit,

Then the storms start to brew,

And someone changes their view,

Before you know it,

You’re back to just you.

 

Now here you are,

Should you try again?

Yes,

You’ve decided,

But the sweet wears off,

And again one takes off,

Like a shot.

 

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

 

It’s a joke,

A waste of time,

And that’s the commodity most precious,

So why do we waste it,

On something fictitious?

 

I’ve made a list,

Weighed pros and cons,

Seems the emotional investment,

Is not even close to worth it,

The most you can hope for,

Is staying a tad bit detached,

So when the time comes,

You can walk out the door,

Without being dragged down,

Left to live depressed and sore.

 

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

 

I see your smirk,

But you will see,

It will not work,

He will turn face,

And be a mighty jerk,

Once again,

You’ll need to begin anew,

Because of what,

He’ll put you through.

 

 

The Mighty One-Man Cartel

They’re all untrustworthy and slimy,

If you fuck with them,

Your life is destined to become grimy,

It’s said don’t ever trust a dealer,

Not any one,

Not any kind,

Although one exception,

Does come to mind.

 

These guys like to hide,

And send others out to risk their hides,

But while his abode is hidden too,

You can deal with him directly,

This one’s not inaccessible to you.

 

This dealer deals in miracles,

Not at all like those who peddle,

The addictions we’re used to buying,

And he advertises honestly,

They’re never laced or watered down,

And then sold by lying,

Plus there is the perk,

That the price is free.

 

He’d rather deal out free love,

Than make a fortune selling drugs,

And if you cannot pay,

He will not order you slain,

Instead you will be smothered,

In a never-ending hug.

 

When he goes out gambling,

It’s not cards he’s dealing,

And he won’t be risking dollars,

He’s unquestionably there to place a bet though,

He’s betting he will,

Save your soul.

 

There is no need to speak in riddles,

As what he’s got,

Is not contraband,

To him you can plainly speak,

Ask him straight-out,

For whatever it is you seek,

For though it’s a sort of black-market,

Nothing he deals can be banned.

 

Any time,

Anywhere,

Any kind,

He does not care,

Most assuredly,

If you’re experiencing a withdrawal,

Know that it will take no time at all,

For him to meet you there.

 

You won’t have to chase him down,

While he’s selling coke or toke,

All around the town,

He’s got a better product,

And he knows right when and where you need it,

And instead will hunt you down.

 

Indeed,

It sounds so good,

How can it be true?

But give him a try anyway,

You’ll be happy when,

He answers you!