just imagine you're God
but no PA, no staff, no one
just wonder
that you are alone
and
the world calls you …
GOD

and you have no PA no staff
no one to see how you fart,
no one to give a helping hand and tell you,
you are unstable
when your off to land
and then shake your hand
and say here I am God
come bow to me,
I have made a work of creativity
you may call out to me
and the world that I have carved,
from nowhere,
is the magician’s flair..

Sitting sequestered in his chair
cheap pen poised to write a line
which he'll pluck from the thin air;
unschooled, unlearned how can he dare
to try to write a poem that's fine?

At once his pen drops to lined page.
A thought enters his empty head
a thought of beauty (he shuns the rage)
written with no regard for its gauge
using only how it sounds instead.

As the summer takes its will,
and foliage breaks its flush,

our dust edges come alive
thinning from there summer bloom
as black eyes seek the sun,

while cunning beaks take free feeds,
crown’s of thorns are no deterrent
as eagerly they seek the fruit,

Its now with bucket Grannies come,
charged with equal season life
to fill their Pails,

while prying eyes await ,
to take what’s left behind,

but a grandchild wont miss any strays,
as nectar bleed on a stick face

soap and towels at home await.

Thoughts are collasal higher then skyscrappers more like sky chasers

If ever evolved into vapor one thought could consume a society and make front page of a paper

WHILE DOUBTS ARE MINISCUE I SHOOT THEM IN THE POCKET LIKE POOL

DOUBT IS LIKE THAT ONE KID WHO NEVER LEAVES THE SIDE OF THE POOL

My thoughts have after thoughts pictures and images that take after art

I ought to put my thoughts on stage I apologize for the sarcasm

GLUE ME
Somebody, get the glue
before I split in two.
what’s that crack
in my back, I hear.
Christ, I’m stiffer than dry wood !
Splinters are falling everywhere.
Protect my heart.
Save my soul.
Don’t let me lose my hair !

Glue me,

.
to faith, the physicist remains adverse
determined there’s no god, says there’s no need
for a designer, as the universe
itself, could be the cause of its own seed

with postulates of branes (no, no not brains)
and strings and bubbles (scientific slang)
while using math enough to cause mass migraines
they guess what happened prior to the bang

although the math displays what just could be
it seems to me a foolish thing to claim
with tools of only one reality
one can disprove what’s outside known domain

"Gone with the Wind" at cinemas,
A favourite with the mas and pas
But not so dear to you and I
For we were younger, didn't sigh
When Gable's goodbye at the door
(a loser in the civil war)
Meant Southern Belle was out of luck
When she heard "I don't give a damn."

’’love that night’’

That night never ceases to be
a night of my life
of all my dreams,
of those small little pieces of love
I had always forever nursed
in my minds youthful eyes
that day, decades away.

Time slaves..

Who made man a slave to time, life
like sad printed lines without music
or rhyme.

So immersed are we in this uncaring
bondage of speed, allowing in only that.
We steal fleeting moments of pleasure
as the second hand collects our breath.

Do we need a slow ticking down of
our dreary days, or the sprinting hands
that steal what happiness we may
encounter from birth to death.

Fear
-
-
by RW
-
-
The dark woman kneels beside me
only as my eyes are closing
Her long hair tickles my nose in the night
her soft motion birthing eddies
from the shadows
she's riding on my nightmares laughing
she's got something for me now
-
-
she's like the seeds that fall to earth
among the thorns that choke the birth
of all but dank, low-lying mist
her red eyes shining daemon kissed
what called her to my room this night