With an endless supply of wine and creative imagination
One can accomplish anything
World domination, Murder,
Peace for all man kind
The possibilities are limitless
Only limited by the limits of the person’s imagination
Karaline Devine
She had fire in her eyes
And hate in her heart
She…
Had been wronged
Some dumb soul had darkened this woman’s eyes
Though she didn’t set out for revenge
Revenge sought her out
Presenting her with a gift of happenstance
Between the thin line of madness and sanity
She existed
With all the fire and fury a woman could be
She rained down Hell on those whose hearts were dead
In the infinite verse of life
One thing comes to mind I find
Trouble not the hearts nor mind
Of those who you spend time
Cheap Time- Disregard My Rhyme
I’ve got cheap wine
For a cheap time
Marking words
That’s my crime
Charge me a fine
I’ll do the time
What ever the game
I’ll hang loose with my name
Like it matters though, I’ll never know fame
Cheap Wine and Cheap Words-Poetry(If that’s what you want to call it) I’ll call it garbage!
He writes on the white paper
Fighting the urge to run away
The story pours onto the page like a bad memory
Scribbling lines of misery
He ties together a sentence with a plea
He leaves the note beside his bed
Freeing his life to be who he wants to be- nobody
The Mask of Modern Vanity
And all that we are is desire
Waiting to be unleashed
Awakened from the slumber of civility
She masquerades in plain sight
Wearing only the thin mask of modern vanity
What we all wear to hide our own insanity
I lust after words combined, lined to make an idea so fine- it blinds. That is living. In the moment of feeling, I breath the fire! Once upon another life, I was an artist. This is my accursed blessing. Pay no mind to a wanna be Bukowski! Set me ablaze, light me afire, set me free of this painful desire!
Alive
It’s not about love or hate
It’s about the raw emotion of life
Not just feeling the freezing rain on your skin
But feeling it in your soul
That’s life; feeling alive
Rebirth
Looking out a window
I stare-not knowing what I’m looking at
Pigeons scatter for no reason
Other than to cause a ruckus
What kind of city is this
Its heart lost to the sandy despair of the homeless
Forgotten roots of mediocre beginnings
I think this city needs a washing
An epic cleansing that brings life anew
In a wave of contemporary resurgence
Highlighting the cerebral poetry of life
