Saint

There's a haint in a cain't
that drifts when it's faint
broken boards without paint
A til for a taint
and an is where there ain't 

Thoughts On A Soft Rainy Day

I watched a young girl bring
A nearly dead animal back to life
And I thought
For all the things we could be again
But for the what and why and then and when

Tempered Summer
Then Autumn come
And I feel colorful
like a new leaf
ironically
A bending ending to the blending
of life
every singular page

Watts In A Nom Beauregard (beautiful gaze) 

nicks-
Beau
Bo
Bo Bo
Bozo
Boplonsky
BB
Bug
Bugsy
Bedbug
Snugglebug
Stinkbug
Boo Boo
Bluster Butt
Bunches
etc
etc
etc
Mini Me

 kcar wrote: 
Forget all rules, forget all restrictions, as to taste, as to what ought to be said, write for the pleasure of it... - William Carlos Williams

You have potential!

My 9th grade was in 68-69. Viet Nam was in black and white. So was the violence in my city. Monsters were and still are real. Not subtle. Easy to spot. They look like bullies and cowards.
That much hasn't changed. 

 oldviolin wrote:

Erections On A Theme

Trump eats detractors for breakfast because nutrition. Ugly but true.
He doesn't give a damn about me, and he doesn't give a damn about you.
His empire of dirt is an empire of hurt.
Like a Bible for a prop, like a worn out dirty shirt
When a body is unhealthy, that's when disease thrives,
taking what is vital with dull and rusty knives
So don't look for Biden, he doesn't exist
Another middle finger from a crumbling litmus fist.
Propped up by dregs of vassal forces , vacant suit hard to miss
Formaldehyde and acid stained, sealed with an empty kiss.

carrion my wayward sun
with your play on worlds
your spotted affairs
and indigo flairs
for debridement

 oldviolin wrote: 
Old fridge is in the scrapyard
the words in a jar
no matter how fast we run
we won't get far

Chicken in a bread pan
pecking out dough
Pandora's box wide open now
row boat set to go

It all sounds bad
but could be worse
above the dirt is better
than riding in a hearse

You can gum up the proof
with a flexible tooth
a puff and a poof
to hide under the couth
with the assayer's sooth

because

From co(s)mic anomalies to pericope winkles
we tug at our skins and smooth out our wrinkles
we polish the water to a high glossy sheen
and matter the weaving from ends to the mean
for with that keen input, those bit roots, brash strokes
we eye of the tiger and all that evokes
in witness to wonder the standing lie down
the cacophony ended, with nary a sound

I looked into the sky today
An orange haze everywhere
Is this the beginning of the end
Or is it the glasses I wear
It’s an Oompa Loompa kinda day
Waiting for the next bushel of oranges to drop
On my naked feet’s 
Oh FÜ¢k’s that hurtz 

Work cancelled today but I still have a million things to do
It's beautiful outside for the whole day through
Maybe I'll just hang around here and harass you, you, and you
What else is a part time ne're-do-well going to do?

candy-coated popcorn
peanuts and a prize
that's what you get 
with the skies flinging pies

sitting on a park bench
bag of pickled smidgens
wizard of the waste land
feeds the homing pigeons

Everyday you spread your lies
Trying hard to open eyes
But you're the blind one.

Each day you spread lies
trying hard to flip the script
But you can't, so stop.

The crap you post can't
even be believed by you
Give us all a break

Takes all kinds of dirt
to bury the dead
Takes all kinds of hurt
to witness with dread
Leave talking to the talkers
when the talking's been said
Like living with the notions
of dying in your head

In a dimly lit room one might see in shadows
what they might imagine in grief
With life and death the currency of doubt
and a pallid witness to abandonment and belief