Category: Poetic rants
hb
Posted in : Poetic rants
For those uninitiated to the vernacular of online chatting, "hb" is the same as saying "hurry back" -or- ("happy birthday", "hilarious boobs" or "humping bunnies" ... depending on the context).
I write this because the early morning cleaning crew has had way too much time on their hands lately and they require some direction from the 'executive branch', which (as per usual) is out to lunch, on holiday or 3 sheets past the yardarm - one of the three. The crew has been idle, mostly because there hasn't been much of a mess to clean up (aforementioned executive holidays) 
I've interceded into this blog space partly b/c I was asked to (and never fail in my duties - just ask my wife 
)
Lest you think the world has stopped spinning on its axis - which is partly true and one of my many theories on "what's really causing global warming" - there have been strides made on several fronts (just need to figure out which ones).
But I digress (and often ... in bracketed or parenthetical ways) and now to the point of the post! (POTP)
...
Fuck.
Where was I?
(Thank god the boss is away, eh?)
Hell on earth?
Posted in : Poetic rants
Black, empty, devoid of life,
Yet, somehow, full of strife.
Ancient panic in my head,
Distant echo's of being dead.
Millennia later, in one screamin' gasp,
Holding hope, tight in my grasp.
Reality engulfs my mind once more,
Is it time to abandon the final straw?
To finally surrender to the abyss,
What part of the war will I miss?
Did my skirmish end the war?
"Please don't send me back for more".
Got this feeling in my head,
That "it" begins once you're dead.
True life starts, the war is huge.
"life" on earth is just a refuge.
Politics and Bombs
Posted in : Poetic rants
What is it with this fucking world,
it's filled with lunatics.
The ones that aren't using bombs,
are in fucking politics.
They target the innocent minnions,
blowing their world to bits.
They don't think of fucking talking,
and sorting out their shit.
Do they think the politicians listen,
to a word we fucking say.
Can you imagine if we shout,
How much attention they'd fucking pay.
We should put you all in a room,
to sort your fucking problems out.
Then shoot the ones left standing,
so you stop fucking our world about.
So take your bombs, your bile, your hate,
and shove it up your fucking arse,
because politicians that actually listen,
are pretty fucking sparse.
Journey
Posted in : Poetic rants
Journey
Do you travel through your life
Constantly having the soul from within
Torn out through your skin
Ripped out by uncaring others
Though they say they are your friend
And they'll help your soul to mend
Do you care for others less
Though they burn you to the ground
And don't even stay around
Heedless of the grief
The rebuilding of your soul
Never intended to be their goal
Should you be less involved
Keep your soul locked up tight
Never let it into the light
Build a wall good and thick
Do your best to keep at bay
Those that'd take your soul away
Would your path through life improve,
With a soul that's never torn
Never ripped by others thorns
Held tight deep inside you
Clasped to the only loving chest
Caring not for all the rest
Would you fester in this pit
In the darkest depths of your mind
Which no other is able to find
All alone and unloved
But also unhurt and still whole
Would that be best for your soul
Should you listen to me at all
Is the path I show you right
Will the journey avoid this plight
Should I avoid all the others
Bypass the anguish and pain
Make your soul whole again
Would you thank me if I did
Tell me in the end
That I am a true friend
Would you understand the lesson
Or would I just be like the rest
Ripping your soul through your chest
I tell you this, all straight faced
Posted in : Poetic rants
They say that pain lessens, with the passing of the years.
They say that your heart mends, with the flow of your tears.
They say that your mind adjusts, to repair all your fears
They tell you this, all straight-faced, do they believe their ears ?
The deceptions of the shallow.
The pain they seek to find.
Can't they see their transparency ?
How obvious is their mind ?
They tell you that the meek will inherit the earth, in the end.
They tell you to wear their yokel, for they really are your friend.
They tell you that they have you in mind, in everything they intend.
They tell you this, all straight-faced, do they think you're round the bend?
Their actions shout out loudly.
Their cover flaps in the breeze.
They duck and dive relentlessly.
Standing out amongst the trees.
They teach you their way of thinking, just to help you along.
They teach you how to sing correctly, so you can sing the family song.
They teach you how to live your lives, the meaning of the gong.
They tell you this, all straight-faced, they swear they know right from wrong.
They think, therefore they are.
That's what they need to believe.
They feel they need to control you.
Would they like what they'd receive ?
They say there is only one path, you must follow it to your grave.
They say their is only one answer, and you will know it if you're brave.
They say it is the way it's done, no matter how much you save.
They tell you this, all straight-faced, it's normality that they crave.
Here endeth the lesson,
Did you learn anything today ?
Did you gain a grain of knowledge ?
There's nothing else that I can say.
Am I normal ?
Posted in : Poetic rants
A man, sits on a chair, in a room,
and he says, "this is not normal"
and he is right
A woman gets on a bus and pays her fare
she has the right change,
and she thinks, "what are the odds"
and she is right
A child comes in from school, sits down for their tea
at the table, with mom dad and brothers three
and they gasp, "this is unnatural"
and they are right
what does it mean, what does it say,
He is abnormal
And you are right.
For nature has no rooms, has no chairs,
There are no buses to where you will go,
You will not sit down for any tea,
nor will brothers three
For that is not normal
And I am right
