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Part 5

  Carnage in a lullaby

  poem by JD Glasscock (Intro to my award winning short film Blade n Blood)

  His first steps in the mud she carved worthless on his bones, on his soul, threaded scars spelling runes that whispered "Men are weak, men are nothing" Mother was the word she demanded, with respect, with careful bent knee reverence of tonality......then years expounded upon the skein, and her age came bruised upon her flesh and she dug her own grave in blood and bitterness and he wandered, lost, forsaken, even the agony she caressed his shriveled spirit with was something, better then nothing, ........lost......a dream broken and disused, then, the seductress, the femme fatale, her keen eyes seeing his torture, her skilled hands roaming his unfinished canvas, and she picked up the crown left in tombs of mothers and forged him, crafted his steps into horrors and twisted paths that brought her covetous jewels and wealth and the ending of threads, of looms of men that clawed her memories of a father's too intimate touch that was the mythos of her past......he was her blade, her rumination, her ruination, her veangence, her purge of too many groping hands on her nubile youth..........and they strode together like Gods, like giants in a meadow of sheep.........till the day the seventh thread of a seventh corpse found it's end by his grasping touch.....and in that moment, and in that stretch of sand trickling glass, she had reached too far, stretched the lie too much, and her life was broken upon a blade that cuts in both directions......and a revelation, an ennui of momentum and clarity writhed, inked within his tatts, within his history, and the birth of a demi divine icon of murder stepped forth, one goal, one road, balance and salvation, a killer of killers, all things must find truth.......and the shadows have never found more midnight within their folds....

  West Texas (New song)

  In the lonely wind of a West Texas drawl

  You remember the night you lost it all

  When the coyotes sang in the wee hours of dusk

  And she walked away, broken heart, broken trust

  And the tumbleweeds lament

  It started on days watching oil rigs bobbing up and down

  Shit kicking and drinking

  Moving time around

  And then she came

  And nothing was ever the same

  Good ole Odessa

  Where cowboys and truckers still roam

  Good ole Odessa

  The dust bowl I hang my hat and call home (Chorus)

  Good ole Odessa,

  Beautiful beautiful Odessa

  She was new in town

  Her long legs, sultry steps and bounds

  Sin two stepping eyes

  Curves that told no lies

  Soft goodbyes

  Made you drown

  Had a certain sound

  Goes something like this

  (Guitar solo)

  (Repeat Chorus)

  We met on the tilt of a moon

  In the Silver Light Saloon

  With whiskeys neat and too much heat

  Ending in hips and breasts and sweat soaked sheets

  And her lips were a prayer to the sky

  Dreams drifting between her thighs

  Love, a ballad on the back of a dragonfly

  Stumbling to the Dawn

  Moments drifted to breath

  We were as inseparable as death

  As weeks hitchhiked down the road

  A flower that blooms in a story untold

  We were aragami in spherical folds..

  She told me her soul was a promise

  And I put it in a pocket

  Like some forgettable locket

  And my memory still weeps

  I still smell her scent in sleep

  She was new in town

  Her long legs, sultry steps and bounds

  Sin two stepping eyes

  Curves that told no lies

  Soft goodbyes

  Made you drown

  Had a certain sound

  Goes something like this

  (Guitar solo)

  (Repeat Chorus)

  It began with small slips

  Taken for granted hits

  a kiss not returned

  a slow burn

  Words I love you said

  nothing back but going to bed

  I could say it started in childhood days

  loving embraces not my Momma's ways

  and I know there are those out there who understand

  be what may

  bruises on bones that never fade

  but history doesn't make a person stay

  and off she went, a yesterday

  a yesterday, a yesterday

  (Full band instrumental)

  In the lonely wind of a West Texas drawl

  You remember the night you lost it all

  When the coyotes sang in the wee hours of dusk

  And she walked away, broken heart, broken trust

  And the tumbleweeds lament

  It started on days watching oil rigs bobbing up and down

  Shit kicking and drinking

  Moving time around

  And then she came

  And nothing was ever the same

  (Repeat Chorus)

  She told me her soul was a promise

  And I put it in a pocket

  Like some forgettable locket

  And my memory still weeps

  I still smell her scent in sleep

  Counting sheep

  Everybody has an off day

  Death rounds hollow eyes

  Contrition & compromise

  Fleshly it’s advance

  Stalwart it’s determination

  A lonely boy beggars on a lonely street

  In a lonely town on a lonely day

  Lights from corner lamps flicker

  Shadows on crumbling walls

  While somewhere a woman

  Cries for a child lost in dream,

  In the inability to touch.

  Concrete, man skulks in

  Back alley streets tapping

  Fingers on murals trying

  To figure out the rhythm of life.

  Old Ghetto Joe

  Strums blues & croons about

  The way it used to be….

  Lines form & rustle in a rush to

  Trade blood for food or for just

  Enough money to needle their way

  Through another day

  While brokers, lawyers, politicians finger money

  Till shades of green permeate skin while

  Somewhere in a desert a soldier clasps

  Hands to stomach stuffing entrails in

  The hopes of prolonging a foregone conclusion

  Sadness has a certain appeal when faced with joy

  Somewhere a child breaks his toys

  Parents watching as they fuck

  Smoking joints through slips of lips

  Tips of candles wavering flames for a celebration

  Of religion while priests fondle young boys

  Explaining to them the merits of celibacy

  How right it is when faced with temptation

  Motel rooms flash neon

  Wanderers searching for the

  Reality of God

  While teenage girls rubbing swollen bellies

  Wait for the next trick to pick

  And TV’s keep losing the picture….

  Perfection is as inevitable as death

  Living Hard

  Sometimes life seems so so hard

  And the road were on so so long

  So i sit by the wayside

  And play on my broken down old guitar

  I'm singing about things

  Fingers dancing on strings

  And goes a little something like this (Guitar solo)

  We stare at the sun and want to run

  from all our fears, just want to have fun

  but the world aint having none

  puts iron to our head and pulls the trigger of the gun

  So we stand ourselves up, drink that whiskey from the cup

  numb ourselves to the drudgery of this rut

  and play rope a dope, do our best to trust our gut

  Sometimes life seems so so hard

  And the road were on so so long

  So i sit by the wayside

  And play on my broken down old guitar

  I'm singing about things

  Fingers dancing on strings

  And goes a little something like this (Guitar solo)

  Hope is a coin we flip to the moon

  days slipping by, our graves coming too soon

  and our bones rattle to the edge of dream

  truths dying within the rotting of the tree

  and all we wanna do is fly free

  but the chains are too heavy on these bloody streets (Full band instrumental)

  We stare at the sun and want to run

  from all our fears, just want to have fun

  but the world aint having none

  puts iron to our head and pulls the trigger of the gun

  So we stand ourselves up, drink that whiskey from the cup

  numb ourselves to the drudgery of this rut

  and play rope a dope, do our best to trust our gut

  Sometimes life seems so so hard

  And the road were on so so long

  So i sit by the wayside

  And play on my broken down old guitar

  I'm singing about things

  Fingers dancing on strings

  And goes a little something like this (Guitar solo)

  ,

  The end is still waiting

  our friends our now dead

  the night is now falling

  and the tune is fading in my head

  the tune is fading in my head

  All has been said

  all has been put to bed

  There's a light on the hill..

  Unjustly cremated in the paint of artifice

  Adage of the wanderer......we sleep and we dream.....we breathe.......skin...rune scarred....etched with sin in symbology...as deep as wisdom in the bottle of tears triaged upon the broken road.....wings trailing within rain washed sculpture of mud.......and the radio hits keep piling their fluidity of marketing in back drop dime stores of shallow architecture...spelling script prophecized and unwieldy in it's diaphonous duplicity.....she licked the page turning the Nietche Plato Socrates emblem of turning wheels.......and we roll the roles penned to our own cremation as we finger paint the stick fables of our own untimley break falls.....we are shadows.....trailing puppets to the movement of a good promotional campaign

  River Rat Blues

  There’s some sailors on the water front

  Who’ll show you some gold

  There’s some girls in the whorehouse

  With stories untold

  But there’s a special place you have to go

  It’s called by the name of the River Rat Show

  There’s gamblers and bankers and lawyers around

  There’s mayors, presidents and corporate hounds

  ‘Cause there’s rats in the river

  Swimming against the stream

  There’s rats in the river

  And it’s all a fucking dream

  You’ll see mysteries, fantasies and

  Willful woeful stories

  Sex shows, coke blows

  And whipping, spanking frenzies

  And this is a god damn ugly scene

  But it is a dream of reality

  It’s dirty and smelly and

  Downright slutty

  It’s crazed and mad

  It’s a type of leprosy

  ‘Cause there’s rats in the river

  Swimming against the stream

  There’s rats in the river

  And it’s all a fucking dream

  There’s some sailors on the waterfront

  Who’ll show you some gold

  There’s some girls in the whorehouse

  With stories untold

  But there’s a special place

  You have to go

  It’s called by the name of the River Rat Show

  Rats in the rivers

  Rivers and the rats

  There’s Skeletons in my Closet & Fruits on my Lips

  Salty memories carve scars

  Down cheeks

  Caressing softly, gently

  Lovingly

  Eyes roving past broken concrete

  Buildings condemned & crumbling

  Flashbacks in past supplication

  And as I walk these streets

  In hard earned starvation

  Thoughts flit across lids

  Closed in half remembrance

  And the story forms,

  This is how it goes.

  And as I turn the corner of dreams,

  Salutations,

  I see the old man I always see,

  Rag starved skeletal frame,

  Eyes glazed & powerful,

  Gray strings of wise hair

  His hand cleaving air,

  Beckoning, urging

  To follow

  And I do follow like I always follow,

  Night in, night out

  Footsteps heavy like thunder

  Unsure like a child’s fragile movement,

  Passing through earthly ruins,

  Churches fallen & forsaken,

  Bodies frozen within passages of time,

  The jagged teeth of alleys

  Swallowing histories,

  A procession of crows on rooftops

  Waiting, sensing our arrival,

  Swooping down behind us in

  Acrobatic wingtip feather tucks,

  Symbolistic runes in wispy sprays of wind

  And he talks to me,

  Mad ravings of futures circling

  In on themselves,

  Pasts that haven’t happened yet

  And the old man flicks gestures to

  Beliefs long dead,

  Righteousness no longer viable,

  Prescient insanity fortelling doom

  In the sedated sparkle of eyes

  Worn thin,

  Moving, dragging aged body,

  Filthy rags, bony frail legs,

  Shuffling down roads less traveled,

  Unadorned & atheistic,

  Stopping to contemplate cemeteries

  With ghosts dancing in soft silent segue,

  Graveyards with crazed woolen laughter,

  Oblivion in snapshots of black & white

  My feet synchronized to his step,

  Him moving like he’s forgotten the dance,

  Fumbling, stumbling always to

  The same destination,

  To a door framed in lunacy’s cackle,

  A door with a sign that says

  “All morality ends here!”

  And this is where the dreams gets

  Really strange

  This is where the old man turns to me, turns,

  Head twisting, body immobile,

  Like an owl, like somebody who doesn’t know

  What a spine can & cannot do,

  His gray strings darkening to

  Raven feathered locks,

  His glazed sedated eyes melting

  To furnaced flames,

  Frail body tightening to

  Mused youthful flesh,

  Wrinkles to unblemished skin

  And there he stands before me,

  Now hip cat cool,

  His words a mixture of blues & jazz

  Surreal soliloquies

  Burning liquid

  And this is what he says

  “We are all bastards in a world of flesh

  and Death knows your name!”

  His gaze tears into me jack hammer proud,

  Then flicks forward, his steel grip

  Peeling back cackled door

  And I

  Stumble through

  And now the lights are red, blood bright,

  Illuminating shifty seedy salvo,

  Shelter of lust

  And that’s eyes glued to morphing mood,

  Wall grinding wall,

  Lewd leering clowns,

  Flesh on flesh,

  Corner floor funneling entanglement

  Of limbs in salivating drooling

  Mixtures of positions,

  Moans & groans dribbling

  Off fevered tongues

  And with a little twist of head

  Conflict confronts

  With shaking sweating youths,

  Eyes blazed,

  Actors acting sweet rapture,

  Injecting themselves with small silver streams

  Of needles crawling across scabbed up vines of arms

  While my tortured veins of sight covet closure,

  Escape from drug dug yellow brick road,

  Slow stopped by

  Mad jazzed youth of furnace flames,

  His feet flurry two stepping

  To up tempo blues stroked by

  Whiskey jigging brass blowers lacing

  Shadows on chipped scuffed floor

  And again my feet follow,

  Blind man’s bluff,

  Bleary eyed sleuth of slavehood,

  Chips freeing poker grins,

  Tripping toes laying deuces in

  Cigar style stove of smoke,

  Twisting through enmeshed undulating flesh,

  Straddling & sliding past sorrowful

  Eyes, ghosts with fingers flicking futures

  Up inflated elbow crooks

  And here he is again, circling me,

  Hoarding me to dust deaf hall,

  Liquid movement, calling card called

  Pry wrenching jacked up maw,

  Jaw unhinged in terror

  Loosening

  Tightened teeth

  And now the sounds draw out, fade

  To some other morning, waking dreams of ash

  Burnt out fires in glory

  And he hammers me,

  Pounds fresh nails to

  Skin scraped suffering,

  Walls hooded to neck back flesh,

  And then smiles, the kinda smile

  You see in horrors, the kind

  That creeps forward in inches,

  Hits with a bricked fist

  Then it happens, happening,

  Bones popping & contorting,

  Sagging flesh puppeting itself into

  Shrunken frame,

  All hallow eyes glowing

  Winter white,

  Soft sane shift of summer,

  Limbs circling tiny spirals

  Now toddler touched,

  Child cherished

  And he exhales whispered intonations

  “Sir, I know the way, follow me,

  we’ll find it together.”

  Innocence floods fuel filling battered bruised tank,

  Tiny feet clicking,

  Wandering munchkin merry dance

  And now I hear the flute flowing

  Melodious song,

  Shadows gone,

  Pan pipe doorway fog

  And we did arrive, I was there,

  Wide eyes, clouds, blue strewn bright,

  Warm waving sun,

  Child of white winter sight holding

  Trembling nerve needled hand, fragile fingers,

  Shows me morning mists in infancy,

  Deep sloping pastures tipping emerald green

  Tickling soles & souls of feet

  And we fumble, stumble in remembered steps,

  Shape shifting through dreams on

  A star dust wave,

  Down, down,

  Hills melting valleys into dirt destined paths

  Where he leads me, leaderless,

  Now falling knee cap smacking

  Stone ring of tired tinder,

  Rejuvination waiting in small flames

  Licking triggers

  And his finger pointing push tough tongue of fire to face

  “We are at the birth of cages, choices, mazes,

  and this is where your road begins”

  And with this simple sifting truth

  The child of mirrors & memories opens smooth palms

  And holds out

  The knowledge of fruit

  WHAT?!

  Lyrics by JD Glasscock Circa 1997

  We move & slide and flurry our feet

  we chuck & jive to the hit of the beat

  and when we grind to the crack of the blow

  we wiggle our asses and start the show

  I said What?!

  What did you say?

  I said What?!

  What did you say

  I said What?

  She wore a dress just for night

  cut real short and wrapped up tight

  walking the streets under the city of lights

  made men drool and started fights

  So there I was shooting some pool

  when she walked in and took me to school

  now i used to think i was pretty cool

  but with a shake of her hips I play the fool

  I said What?!

  What did you say?

  I said What?!

  What did you say

  I said What?

  So now I go to bed dreaming of eyes

  her sweet sweet hips singing lullabies

  and when i drift off to sleep

  her sad sad beauty makes me sleep

  I said What?!

  What did you say?

  I said What?!

  What did you say

  I said What?

  We move & slide and flurry our feet

  we chuck & jive to the hit of the beat

  and when we grind to the crack of the blow

  we wiggle our asses and start the show

  I said What?!

  What did you say?

  I said What?!

  What did you say

  I said What?

  What did you say?

  I said what, what, what, what ,what, what , what , what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Someone finally drenched the dry desert of my fallacy

  Sometimes in the hip pockets of romance spinning pirrouettes along her meat succulent thighs I find myself high.....stimulated in the curvatures working themselves against my dancing tongue....attempting to form etherial words into palpable passion in the arc of mouth to womanly nectar...and as they spiral pelvic thrusting to the articulation of my thoughts...my hands roam landscapes hoping to esoterically draw runes in ancient script with the exploration of fingers within caves.......moist in the rubbing of wishes against dreams.....she thought she had it made.....moans dribbling prehistoric scriptures of paintings depicting erotica in the grunts of stories.... ..and the sweat of her heaving chest (Landscapes of lathering rhythms) immersed me in a river...my frame and limbs swimming deep throat swells to the planting of my heraldic staff....it's symbolization a rippling flag to the art of sculpture in the ephiphony of prophetic wanderings.....her womb was my tomb and my pillow.......rest and howling unrest both riding low against the straining muscles of my moving hips as grinding became the dervish I railed feverishly against the wet deep burgeoning of her eyes spiraling into ever increasing circular moons back lit to the playing of flesh.....we both prayed to last but in the tumble of night falling blanket to the early depths of filtering dawn ....we collapsed.....smiles stretching celestial bodies across the fabric of our ecclestial depletion......we would both be a memory on the morrow's tides....but this moment...this burning ember in the drifting of wishes purcolating within the orifice of destiny would etch itself within the bones of our drunkenly weaving cognizance....and in days broken into old age....we would both reminisce back to the sliver of sand in saturn sage ....in which we perpetuated the continuing weave of our forever dance at least one more turning of the wheel...some day it will be more..... some day it would be love....

  Poem by JD Glasscock

  She said my mind was an egg shell walk, a house of cards in a perpetual slow motion fall....i told her she's right, it's upon the edge of fragility where my paint brushes find the most canvas....where her silhouette in that low key lighting as she steps over the horizon provides the most inspiration, creates the Davinci of her fading soliloquy

  Deep Grove Monday

  Written 7/27/2019

  Dark steps, twisted into breath, holding for dream...I am trying, crawling, to see.....lies make things cloudy, even when the sun's out......truth is a hard beast ....it bucks and slithers in hands.......the scars are old.....long in the tooth.....memories.....I still remember her hips.....easier to throw up anguish.....mud step misery to the local pub....

  As i said, truth is a harsh (Sensored)......I dig mondays, slow, bluesy, got a certain slow bass beat rolling along it's spine...you can feel the heavy, the guts of it. I feel most comfortable there.....always been that way....child hood a weight i carried through broken cobbles.....wrong turns, upside down falls.....She said my name once, as a whisper in sheets....i still hear it sometimes....

  Age comes upon us in slips between cracks...in years that seem like just moments.....it creaks and bends and breathes.....Yesterday was a drift game to tomorrow....and My Daddy was a long ago shadow tripping into nothing....I forgive him....

  One night, under the luminess of a deep moon.....I hope to find my fate......see it come to fruition after a life and a road of scraped flesh and too many beat downs....too few smiles and too little belly laughs......she never truly said goodbye......think that bothers me still.....my momma luvs me...always been a boon that.......my head dips into the pages of books that are my signposts...my pillow i lay my head to gallow rest....that requires rope i think..........drift......future spun along the beat of the bass i mentioned earlier......on a monday.....yea....luv mondays...

  Automate revolution

  Now here’s a story

  short & sweet

  about a girl & a boy

  of course they meet

  It’s like slick thick oil

  on a vinegar pond

  like hot sex sugar

  in the morning dawn

  It’s like a rooster race

  with a one eyed jack

  it’s like a crack house condo

  on the coasts of Iraq

  Like dreams & sand

  shaking the land

  creeping in my eyes

  like a rocking band

  like a rocking band

  I’m losing my mind mind

  I’m tasting her sweat

  I’m springing like a candle

  in the deepest night wet

  ‘Cause we are the Tin Soldiers

  Automates in the revolution

  Corporation

  Annihilation

  we are the Tin Soldiers

  Automates in the revolution

  Corporation

  Annihilation

  Now the story’s done

  like a sunset dream

  and the corporate swine

  are squealing for green

  Cause we are the Tin Soldiers

  Automates in the revolution

  Corporation

  Annihilation

  we are the Tin Soldiers

  Automates in the revolution

  Corporation

  Annihilation

  So here's the story

  from me to you

  in a corporate world

  where romance is...

  where romance is...

  where romance is...

  No longer true....

  Cause we are the Tin Soldiers

  Automates in the revolution

  Corporation

  Annihilation

  we are the Tin Soldiers

  Automates in the revolution

  Corporation

  Annihilation

  What revolution

  what revolution

  what revolution

  we're still looking for the answers

  to evolution

  To Sail the Seas of Broken Dreams(Poem)

  There does it’s mast blow

  In the broken seas of shattered dreams

  Where all things seem

  A probability of impossibility

  Where love drowns like a drunken sailor

  Back washed in the storm of the sun’s shade

  Where all things made come undone

  Where a little girl in the back

  Of candlelit rooms

  Huddles in the shadows of remorse,

  Bruised and abused

  In the memories of floating debris

  Contemplative in the waiting of things that will never be

  Where prayers crest and break

  Upon the bars of cages buckling but never bending

  Where groping hands of daddies

  Rip innocence from the tender hearts

  Of molestation’s grime

  Where husbands in drug dug daze

  Beat submission with meated hands

  Possession tattooed in a skin once smooth

  Where even sacred maternal chains

  Shuffle love like a chess piece in a game,

  Like the backbone of a promise

  Thrown as garbage in alleys

  Where rats knaw the blood of sacrificial bliss

  Where even a true kiss means nothing

  Where all things lost become more so

  Where even the sharpened sword of true love’s bite

  Cannot carve away the years

  Where fear grips like an iron beast

  Jagged teeth sunk to sorrowful soul

  Where even the lure of another’s

  Pain licked eyes can not go

  Can not compromise the eroding of time

  Where the storm of broken hope blows

  Where the letting go of breath

  Waits for that which she will never find

  Except maybe in the smile

  Of Death’s hollow promise

  Shades of ghosts stealing away the day

  Amidst a circle of flames

  Where a man kneels weeping

  For all that was lost

  Blade of lowly means shattered in broken seas

  Where a gleam in his eye holds the love of a dream

  Morpheus

  This isn't your dream

  your caged in your own nightmare

  this isn't your dream

  your caged in your own nightmare

  Morpheus is walking on your soul

  crumbling statues littering the road

  Morpheus is walking on your soul

  crumbling statues littering the road

  You see what you want to see

  golden bricks & mazelike dreams

  little kids & sandbox greed

  broken dolls & girls to kiss

  bloody lips & lucid trips

  moonlit thighs & tricks to lick

  Morpheus, Morpheus

  Morpheus, Morpheus

  You see what you want to see

  golden bricks & mazelike dreams

  little kids & sandbox greed

  broken dolls & girls to kiss

  bloody lips & lucid trips

  moonlit thighs & tricks to lick

  This isn't your dream

  your caged in your own nightmare

  this isn't your dream

  your caged in your own nightmare

  Morpheus is walking on your soul

  crumbling statues littering the road

  Morpheus is walking on your soul

  crumbling statues littering the road

  You see what you want to see

  golden bricks & mazelike dreams

  little kids & sandbox greed

  broken dolls & girls to kiss

  bloody lips & lucid trips

  moonlit thighs & tricks to lick

  Morpheus, Morpheus

  Morpheus, Morpheus

  Let our breath leave our souls

  the king of dreams show the road

  lead us from this nightmare's toll

  lead us from this nightmare's toll

  lead us from this nightmare's toll

  A Lollipop Garden

  I got soul burn broken blues

  I got a skirt in the peripheral of my crap shoot

  and she, she, she.....

  I got soul burn broken blues

  I got a skirt in the peripheral of my crap shoot

  and she, she, she.....

  Hit the video

  That's where the truth is

  that's where the truth is

  that's where it can be found

  in this curvy shaking ground

  That's where the truth is

  that's where the truth is

  that's where it can be found

  in this curvy shaking ground

  A lollipop garden in the sun

  A lollipop garden in the sun

  A lollipop garden in the sun

  A lollipop garden in the sun

  She's looking like a girl in a dress so fine

  walking the lines in a garden of time

  rolling her eyes like a web caught in the moon....

  in the falling starlight

  falling starlight

  starlight....

  hit the video

  A lollipop garden in the sun

  A lollipop garden in the sun

  A lollipop garden in the sun

  A lollipop garden in the sun

  That's where the truth is

  that's where the truth is

  that's where it can be found

  in this curvy shaking ground

  That's where the truth is

  that's where the truth is

  that's where it can be found

  in this curvy shaking ground

  I got soul burn broken blues

  I got a skirt in the peripheral of my crap shoot

  and she, she, she.....

  I got soul burn broken blues

  I got a skirt in the peripheral of my crap shoot

  and she, she, she.....

  A girl flit flutters while I sputter obscenities checking my pockets for gold

  My suicidal dives cross lines within a passage of time and yet still I walk , still I talk, still I breathe and it does seem a trifle slow, blow to blow, where is the golden joke I was promised, the eternal road to laughter

  . I met a girl , she seems so nice, so still, but she tosses my frills like it's all a bout a game, name, I think friends was the word she used, but now abuse, I think that fits it better, storing away stolen tongues, drifting dreams for escape, how hate is such an easier thing then love.

  I mean doesn’t she see how when our eyes meet it makes our hearts beat, our knees shake, and our feet how they slide so smooth, like the way we shoot pool, so cool. I mean we take out people like were mowing the lawn, taking out the trash, like the next hit is the next to last, and we roll and we roll and we roll till we say thanks to the next victim taking a stroll, but you see that's where I run the toll, my body stacking up coins like I got a free pass past death, like I'm sticking my tongue out and waving my hands, like saying "hey death come on over here and take me to your lands, I'm burned out on dream's dreary sands."

  I mean I got liquor flying down my gullet like it's the a-train, Like I’m on the next merry go round called insane, numbing the pain, cigarettes filling my lungs like it's the next rung, like it's the universal drug of compromise, yet still there she is again, those liquid eyes saying friends, friends, friends, till my thick skull hits the dead end, but then here we are trying to twist and bend, glide, cause this ain’t the ride I bought a ticket for.

  I mean doesn’t she see how when our eyes meet it makes our hearts beat, our knees shake, and our feet, how they slide so smooth, like the way we shoot pool, so cool but I know, I know, I know, I'm the master of flunking school time rules, where all she does is flitter and flutter while I sputter obscenities checking my pockets for gold, for the next road to take me on out of here, cause I need a cigarette and one more beer, please!!

  Poem JD Glasscock

  I am strong,I am weak.....I have an ego that sometimes balloons to ridiculous heights...I have insecurities that are overwhelming....I have more talent then most, a sign of dead end recurves back to nowhere, with no heart behind it, means little...sometimes my heart is a cadaverous thing, secrets that won't share....other times, riven with passion as bright and burning as distant suns, sins......I can shine with more fury then anything in the room,a dim candle in shade, other times, bulldoze my way through sensitivities in callous recremination.....I am alien to those around me...the wyrd they hope goes away.......the same look for coattails to catch a lift......I am no-one, someone, anyone.......unique......I am the stranger strange as strange becomes.....I am alone....I worship truth, some say,a liar`s paradise....I am resolute in pursuit of creation and success...I often stumble over my own feet.....I am a grave with little memory or remembrance...I am legend that will never die.....I am delusional....I am overwhelming to most if not all.....I would lay life to protect another...I am a coward in wolves carcus......I have so much fear, fear is my everything, my burgeoning nothing....the integration of impetus to completion.....tool I caress to intimidate lovers into never being so.....celibacy is a cause,a justification to rebel.....to explain away my deficiencies...she never opened her legs......I am dream in a sleepers sleep.....I am the breath that never exhaled....I am dichotomy.......I am a poet in a back alley scrumming for change and a meaning to my frailties......I am humanity, ever devouring life......my tomb is a rune etched to tomorrows.....today is yesterday........her eyes are the womb I never found my way out of.....we are fragile, faulted creatures....glass thrown from dizzying drops.....shattered into a thousand shards of reflections......love me.....I'm in the back of the garden, near the reptile

  Smoke rings are dreams

  I blow smoke rings around life, exist in the Haze it creates... Hold poverty like a Linus blanket.... Suck my thumb and dream about could bes.... Would of beens.... And count the tick off second hands spelling the terms to falling....I once..... Yesterday..... Do I matter..... The shroud of midnight does a slow Calypso to the ever ever of broken toys. .. My eyes are half lidded and thinking of you... I'm sorry..... Sleep is the one place safety seems assured... Egg shells strewn across sand swirling in a Kaleidoscope of idioms..... My lips echo beauty to the ending of small things.... The door is cracked and the light frail and wavering...a candle gutters in a strong breeze...... Simmetry is left to those with more money then I.... The Haze is slowly drifting apart... The blanket forming holes, eye slits to bones.... Tombs are back drops to ghost stories told in the wee hours of doubt......I crawl through the left overs of the hungry.... Someone save the young..... They are broken on the wheel of progress.... Heavy pockets of old men counting green.... My breathing has slowed... The moon has spoken love..I listen and hope....

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