I've worked hard damned near all my life
but now I'm on the dole
while greed's allowed to have run rife
loss of self worth haunts my soul

Like most I thought I Was my job
(I could build 'most anything )
'cept a defence from those who'd rob
our chance to grab for that brass ring

Each day I still wake 'fore the dawn
old habits never die it seems
I'm that guy you could depend upon
to construct your home of dreams

Roses are my fave...
they make one brave...
upon the button holes of kings
and
upon the graves of mankind...
roses we all find...
yet do we know...
Roses never fade,
in the book’s pages
in the shelves of time
they continue to lie
that's why
roses never ever die
When you open a page of time...
roses come to your mind ...
the fragrance remains
and
love doesn't stain...
roses,
as roses even though dry ...
come alive and forever remain......

What sung the crow to the dying sun,
As passed day unto night;
Beheld the moon as she begun
Her usurping of the light.
At silver light the raven calls,
A silence fills the halls.
No man can stir, no beast can bear,
The coming of night fall.

No this is what you think it's not an impromptu / Usually I let my words hoola hoop in my mind til I lose the rythmn / Cause even on a decline I am forever lost in thought / even without being spoken thru a mic / my words possess me / So excuse me as I exercise that thought region / I can't remember that's what side of the brain / Maintaining sanity in such a mad world /History repeating cause somethings can't help but remain / Those that lose more then they gain / Find ways to become stingy / Those who are overfed / Only grow more greedy / People walk pass me everyday a

out of six strings
the girl has two
she knows what she wants
and that seems like nothing
she's cluless in her perfect world

out of six strings
the girl has four
she knows what she thinks is need
no one has changed like she swears they have
and he has done nothing wrong

out of six strings
the boy has eight
i know he cares
he just doesn't know what to do
or what to say

Confessions

She is Venus
watched from a distance,
making merry
with her soiled sisters,
buying rounds of mulled wine
in the shabby brothel,
fortifying resolve
against the dangers
of chilly night.

Finishing my tot of gin,
I place thempty vessel
on the scarred
wooden bar top
as the soft smile
of a refined gentleman
plays at the corners of my lips.

Awkward Thoughts…

They shovel words down our rarely used throats,
trying to make us swallow or gag so very hard.
Standing on squared circles like silly old goats,
with Hamster chin pouched necks, bellies of lard.

Angry though we get we’re always in the wrong,
excuses are made for our uneducated upbringing.
We can never use truth to voice our helpless song,
unfortunate people trying to sing, no just mudslinging.

Con artist

Frank Wright had an idea

                                             Bob Frost had an idea

Which popped into his head

perfect slalom
through vintage track hiss
these lights gleam bright
like halos
like second sight
and you let the belt slip through
your lacquer
the thin mouth open feeding
the stream
a scream of cooked purity
I can fly as I slip away
so easy how heaven
can ease to hell

bent over with smudged glasses
bad teeth
your spine like a worn range of
mountians
like a sadness in the spring thaw