no more, No More

There’s no need to cry

(I’m gonna tell you why)

there’s no need to sigh.

All of your tears will dry.

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Fastidious Flout

nothing moves faster than stones thrown
by hands with something to hide

nothing is more clearly shown

like

true character of cracked pride

 

A Reading: Declaration of The Hill Dwellers

source post: Declaration Of The Hill Dwellers

You dare look me in the eye & say
the aged intensity of punk rock doesn’t smolder in my soul
That I don’t carry the torch of my fallen punk ancestors
Laid to rest by the 9 to 5
Spikes combed forward, ‘hawks brushed to the far left
lookin’ no good, no bueño
flown off to nowhere special.
Memories fade. Scribblings remain.

How Dare
You spit in my eye
as I walk down the aisle to claim the prize
The most damned prize so rightfully mine
of everlasting life & peace of mind
No price is right when the price hanging over my head, es
no good no bueño
Measured in wealth with no real value,
Chop it up thrice & serve it chilled sided with grilled
chopped heads of men & mice

How Dare
You poke me in the eye with sharp edges
from a bill you figured your generation would
have paid in full by now
Shoot daggers in my back, my shoulders buckle
under the weight of the price on my head
But behold this truth!
That the price is not mine! The price is not right!
It’s No Good, No Bueño!

That’s why I
Dare to fly northward &
onward & on & on
Gone that way, pulling the reverse switch
past 1992, past time
past the time of the No Good
Of whatever remains past the No Bueño
past the punk
rocking out with no one special

Memories fade. Scribblings remain.

A Place For My Stuff

ralphsteadmanbookofdogs8

Artwork by the legendary Ralph Steadman



a dog that chases its tail will be dizzy
not accomplishing anything
though it feels busy
can’t find its bones buried beneath the backyard tree
next to its goals
wow. that’s shitty.
if Melvil Dewey saw this, he’d be in a tizzy

but he’s dead.

and my shovel has dulled away from overuse
there’s a copious amount of my possessions
strewn about like a poltergeist had gone mad with vigor
i feel like i do when someone calls me a nigger
my emotions as tangible as a phantasm
my thoughts as straight forward as broken sarcasm

my cognition & body are skinny
& i feel as superfolous as Our Lord’s daily bread

………

some actions are better left undone
words left unsaid
scabs left unscratched
crimson tears better left unbled

oh, if only i had somewhere to rest my head.

Cream

pop will go your spot when the fervor gets a little too much

if it’s just some kind of fling

then why does purple electricity appear whenever my mind thinks of The Thrust?

trust. when i tell you that
something inside of me is chugging ’round like a train
something inside of me, all up in my membrane
what is the meaning of this purple-charged lust?

it can’t be ignored so i guess, i guess….
I Must

with your consent
we’ll both be content

the beast with two backs
an aroma of fresh coffee in the air
with a side of Cream

silky & sweet
goes down smooth
if you know what i mean

a kind of dream
just fun, nothing ethereal
take the superficial and let it drop
& let’s get on with the ShaBoogie-Bop





Daily Prompt: Sparkle