Girl in the black dress

Oh, that girl in the black dress,
gave grievance without redress,
she came to me sweet as a candy,
but then left me to my gin and brandy;

why can’t I let the memory pass,
someday I’ll show her who’s the boss,
she tears me as she giggles so sweetly,
who makes her laugh a lot,yours truly;

the day I saw her in the black dress,
I knew she was the one for me, yes,
is she now a black clothed vampire,
sucking my blood even when not near;

tell her this isn’t a game and I ain’t too clever,
ask her to trust and walk beside me forever.

 

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What is life

What is this life
one minute boisterous
another preposterous.

Why live it at all
wish we were in mother’s womb cloistered
forever from harsh pressures non flustered.

It ain’t a choice
one just shouldn’t have a chick
for no one is ever there to stick.

What is to live
to drive, push and shove around
where is hidden the old playground.

What is hell
the earth where all live in terror
and devil, just look in the mirror.

What is heaven
it is in our bank account and clock together
just got to unfollow one and slow the other.

I am a kid

I am a kid that never grew up,
never could do chores on my own,
dreams are gone, now empty cup,
peace at last, no skill to be shown;

now saw out of my safe glass house,
true love and joy, where no money was,
daily gather, simple feast, without grouse,
here grand dinner alone, what profit or loss;

yet he wants here, I want there,
all want money, bull or bear,
please hear, after life’s wear and tear,
won’t count money, rather your cheer;

don’t heed him, it is a poor wolf’s cry,
smile a lot, laugh aloud and hold high.

I chanced upon

I chanced upon
a deep green pond
that sought my whispers
and echoed along.

I was lost
in my sounds
and croaked at the stars
croaked at the moon
without a pause.

Us frogs’ croaks
filled the night time sky
no silence all around.

I once heard a cuckoo
sweet music aspired
in my croaks.

The cuckoos were silent
as I croaked on and on
and I swore to be mute
and not croak anymore
but my nature was just
that I couldn’t shut.

So at last
to give and find peace
I prayed to forever croak. 
(as in die)

That cuckoos may sing
may be spare a song
for us foolish frogs
that tried their hands
and went away for peace.

I sit here alone

I sit here alone
musing to myself
as silence echoes the night.

For days together
save for an odd word
here and there
with a solemn shopkeeper
my tongue is tied.

What do I want?
Money in my kitty.
Success celebrity.
Be loved as I am.

A whisper sought
this desperado
said queen of diamonds
will beat you
queen of hearts, best bet.

Queen, diamond or hearts
not for us failures
who’ve played our hand
and lost unto the cons
who rule this world
all in the name of love
or call it kindness.

Try again, a chorus heard.
How many times.
How many ways.
The world quit us
yet we won’t quit life.

The journey goes
and so will we
for we made a vow
to stay till the end.

Murky liquid

Murky liquid frothing in dazzling cup
shady poison
carry you worlds beyond.

Why?

Those that don’t find
peace in this world
lost forever to this.

Some for respite
ease their pain
yet some to enjoy.

Some for company
maybe with friends
or business associate.

Here too company
to cheer my solitude.

Slowly I count

Slowly I count
with bated breath
like little kids do
in a game
of hide
and seek.

One, two, three.
Unlike them
l don’t count
as moments pass.
I pause for days
sometimes weeks
at times much more.

The count does grow
gradually in its own pace.
I am in the thirties, my age.
In the fifties, my count.
When will I see the millions
I see elsewhere.

What do I count
not shining stars
not money in my account
nor the pages I’ve written.

I count my follows
and why do I do that
don’t I have chores.

I do it in hope of finally creating a stage
for my final grand master piece

MY LIFE.

I struck at the world

I struck at the world in mad rage,
which reached back in kindness,
with its infinitely wide visage,
yet I couldn’t accept my blindness;

why mould me into their image,
I will not bow to their highness,
and will never share their cage,
uncouth I’ll never know their finesse;

I am human and share the same page,
yet will never shun the inner brightness,
and will tear evil, mighty power’s camouflage,
for that in myriad ways shaping my fitness;

end not count, where, how travel, nor farewell,
but along path, how far love and truth dwell.

I am a full grown sheep

I am a full grown sheep
tethered to a post
for I’ve known to been lost
even inside a pen.

I chew my own hide
that my body is bare
and no wool to be had.
I am of no use to myself
or to those around.

I was tended kindly
with all love they could muster
all comforts of the world
and much much more
yet I can’t pay them heed
all I can think
is to escape the pen.

Am I the proverbial black sheep?

Now there is talk of
tying me to a tigress
though some call it ewe
they say its for my own good
and that’s how the world goes round

If not how will there ever be wool?