i am...my mind reels with riches..
i am a spoke speaking
the gadfly bohemian universe
sharpen the senses of the
lull in the calm of ordinary
like skipping a stone

life is a blight..
we can change...places...
i know many a ukranian
or russian
willing to let me take their
gun...their basement
shelter to have my
five cents right now
fact ..in my pocket
for theirs...
how exilharating
for both...
i know weapons
had to put down
animals
helped skin and prepare
a beast for the winters
feast
know how to survive
keep my head low
lead the pack
and work tail end
charley
old hat...

why i appreciate the
dull static and listless
days
commuter existance

the mind wanders on
yes...
here...and should\
i zap in fictional
exchange
so true and to
..
i would fall in there
i know me
gunless or pointless
blasting

either way..the fear
of the end...
peaceful
wait for it......
or suddenly
or not..
will arrive
no one lives forever
no one
broke..
i truly have five cents
i will never see bahamas
but i saw people who
had money..from bad
ju ju.....afraid to move
surveillance..eyes..
ghosts.....
i cut their grass shovelled
their snow
and they bitched about
how much they had to pay
me....gloating about their
white slavery friends
and yes..they had a
late model tornado in
their trailer park home
where they hid out..
no suprise they died
alone a few years later

i quit living for visitors
long ago when i asked
for two bucks for donations
for the tour of spectacular
stories...
got rid of the riff and
brought me the raff who
slipped me twenties
in my times of need
found out who the
true friends were

ha....Love this ass kicking
[poem] cause it rings
truth..and people
hate the truth..
stick their fingers in
their ears and go
la lah la...
funny as hell...

keep er real and keep
cranking epics like
this out...

thank u

w

your right...i was because of the bi polar..laughing..so far out there with madness
got a lot done though...work..paintings...but then the crashes...crippling depressions
self abuse...lucky i got instruction enough in the good...birth to eight..sunday school
united church...glad parents put in the effort...kids today...and adults from past had
no instruction..given no choice....climb the ladder...run through the gauntlet sign on
to organizations that did help many to survive..but i like that i had choice....
i did not like spending most of my life..happy and sad only...there are many who just
got nothing better to do then mess with your day...took me years to figure out how
to deal with these interesting characters...soul stealers..dream stealers my chums
call some of them....and their right....the confidence now to stand up for myself
and broker deals.....not get ripped off...cause it does happen....taking a run on my
kids...no no..not anymore....so i got oomph now....and i never got into the full score
of the new found strength....God dont want people to be doormats or slaves...he
freed moses....says change is the closed door locked from the inside for good..
i got people....but i was not the thugster...i got a brilliant mind....always broker a deal.
always got invited on good rides..missions..treated like a brother from the brothers..
and a brother from tthe sisters..top to bottom...way it works...respect ....they like it
if you got balls...know your going to be a good bud this way....if you got happiness
and sadness thats great..emoting is good....and if you got it grounded and stable to
be able to ration and reason welll without people picking on you even better....anger
like adreanlin all the time kills yah...bad for the heart...focus...time..and soul...
thanks for your comment...like your straight up ways and poetry WonderWoods..

mr wolf!

I like this poem a lot. It speaks to me of the tragedy and frustration of trying to serve and communicate... perhaps as a teacher. In this poem I think the rhyme works well as a mortar to hold its bricks together. It strikes me as a quite honest poem. I especially think the ending line works well.