life In Poetry Motion Authors cut <lifeinpoetrymotionac>
"Poetry from the Eyes of An Adult With ADHD, more research should be put into Diagnosis"
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 | Goldilocks | hace 255 días | ||
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| What porridge does she eat? Whose bed does she prefer? Stay tuned. Goldilocks, Rapunzel, Jean Harlow (the "blonde bombshell" -- ever heard of a "brunette bonbshell?"), Marilyn Monroe, Blondie, Lana Turner, Jane Mansfield, filmy blondes with perfect fantasy faces in coffins, looking natural like angels (angels are painted as blondes too only sleeping) blondes for beaches, CD covers, ads, videos, posters, a blonde for every occasion, a blonde getting fucked on Channel 69 and screaming for more, make sure we see her hair, eyes, lips, his aren't important, a blonde raped then laughed at by police because, you know, blondes are dumb, they're funny, can't take what they say seriously, the officer wanting to fuck her himself after the paperwork's over, and his desk is clear, the speechless blonde who can't pick the staple out of her navel, some things go too deep, don't show up in the photographer's negatives, don't make probing questions for an anchorman, bring on the next blonde, make her smile, see, she looks just like Goldilocks, ask her does she want to make it big? | ||||
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| Should be dreaming | hace 255 días | ||
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| My mind's always screaming when it should be dreaming With nary a hint or warning: My thoughts always attacking the slumber, I'm lacking well into the wee hours of morning. I've tried some red wine thinking that would be fine, but only made the voices talk faster: On reading a bit to see if that would do it was just a chapter by chapter disaster The sheep I were counting were endlessly mounting into pastures littered with white And the late night routines on workout machines kept my muscles flexing all night I've abstained from the cookie even tried nookie But neither one helped in the matter: Though she slept with a smile on her face I got back up ate a whole platter. So now, I'm resigned and fully inclined That it's a battle me versus them; That the voice I am hearing are only enearing in the morning at 2:30am | ||||
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| Thank you for still viewing my page | hace 255 días | ||
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| Wow havent been on here in ages great to see people are still viewing my page, been writing some poems lately but this is more of a fun thing for me now, had a few Poems published in magazines and books but there really is not money to be made in it. Please keep looking at what I put up in my blog as there is no more room on the page to write anything else under the Poems, feel free to leave your comments  | ||||
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| Golden and orange | hace 423 días | ||
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| The sun is a fireball Golden and orange The sky is a blue saphire And fluff clouds move swiftly across the sea. Cars as fast as Chetahs, roar like lions A baby whines, my heartbeat thumping like an Elephant Jumping The smell of sweaty armpits drifting through air. Wrestling the scent of melted chocolate and the reek of dog poo | ||||
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| A mist obscures | hace 423 días | ||
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| A mist obscures the smoke that's obscured the fire and my sense of having been sent down like a satchel on a crumbling step My straps unstrapped. The song in my head over. When the song had said drift I drifted when it said take out your heart and eat I took, I ate I swore I could distinguish everlasting from the Eternal-by little blup of bliss In the latter and surely it shone. I was in the last seconds of a last try on a last poem, and they to would pass. A window opens. Figure movement, figure moment of needing the formely stunned world. Alsomost poular | ||||
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| Stined Immaculate | hace 423 días | ||
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| I'll tell you this... No eternal reward will forgive us now For wasting the dawn. Back in those days everything was simpler and more confused One summer night, going to the pier I ran into two young girls The blonde one was called Freedom The dark one, Enterprise We talked and they told me this story Now listen to this... I'll tell you about Texas radio and the big beat Soft driven, slow and mad Like some new language Reaching your head with the cold, sudden fury of a divine messenger Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of god Wandering, wandering in hopless night Out here in the perimeter there are no stars Out here we is stoned Immaculate. | ||||
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| Stoned 2008 | hace 423 días | ||
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| I stop and wonder why I can't get my baby on the telephone. All I get is a busy tone. The connection flies off into wrong directions. "Fuck!" I mutter to myself. She left me standing here just high and dry. What a way to go. I got into bed and turned out the light. "What've you got so much to talk about, anyways?" I mused. "Can't you get no satisfaction? You never stop!" I told you once - "Never break this heart of stone." But she never listens to me. "An't it strange?" I whisper aloud. "She left me with no warning." "It's not easy living on the telephone." Living on your own is hard. I decided to call once again. Busy once more. "It's off the hook." I assure myself. The pain in my heart has me running for shelter. Sitting around the apartment late tonight has me in deep need of an emotional rescue. I leave and find solace with a girl that I know. We all need someone we can lean on. I return home the next evening and I sit looking out the window from the top floor of my block. Imagining the world has stopped. "What a drag it is getting old. Things are different today." I guess I'll feel the same tomorrow I dial her number again. "This will be the last time." As tears go by all I hear is the busy sound. It's off the hook. | ||||
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| Ted | hace 424 días | ||
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| I was looking under my bed For my bear named Ted, But what did I see? A batch of dust woovies . . . I ran into the kitchen and got the spray. I ran back to whisk the dust bunnies away, But they weren't there! They were in my hair! I did not know what to do, So I ran into the bathroom And got the shampoo And washed them out of my hair. I found Ted. Now he had dus woovies in his head, And I said, "Oh , man,! Not again! | ||||
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| Elvis Reborn | hace 424 días | ||
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Guitarman backed by the stack of wtithing Silhoutted guitarists The man jamming with his friends Raunchy, bluesy was the guitarman Adorable, punching string after string Elvis showing the world who he really was Like Mohummad Ali in the ring Fleeting looks, hypnotising an audience The intimate chuckles Wowing the girls and coming out on top Standing proud in white his guitar by his sid | ||||
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| Life is like an Ice cube | hace 424 días | ||
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| You and I were chatting And you asked for some advice I said you should remember That life is like a cube of ice! Ice-cubes are very useful - More useful than you think. They can help reduce a swelling Or just enhance a drink! You can place an ice-cube on a wall And hope that's where it will stay But if you leave it long enough It will melt and fade away! You must learn to take that ice-cube And use it there and then. If you decide to wait 'til later - It will have disappeared by then! That's why life is like an ice-cube You've got to grasp it while you can - You must never let an opportunity Slip right through your hand! If you have a dream just live it! Don't let life ever pass you by - Just pretend that life is just an ice-cube And don't let chances pass you by! Once that ice-cube it has melted It's no longer of much use If you stand and watch it melting You must have a good excuse! Take that little ice-cube Make it really count for you And there'll be nothing in this life-time That you really CANNOT do! | ||||
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