Brought to the brink, afraid I might sink, but I stayed on my feet, and never accepted defeat. Devastated by luck, lacking a single buck, yet I rise from each fall, and I rise above it all. Absent for too long, fighting for where I belong, and I’m still alive, with a pledge to thrive. It hasn’t all been fun, and I almost thought I was done, but I rise up yet again, determined to fight and win. This life and all that I face, and the hope to find my place, will no longer be a delay, for this marks the dawn of my day! I’m Back!!!!!!!
Here are some updates for everyone. First, I’d like to apologize for yet another gap in posting. My family is on the move and all my resources are focused on heading to a new home. Once this move is complete (looking at July 20th) I’ll be back with a more in-depth connection and activeness. A wider range of posts, but not leaving out the poetry and quotes that people have been enjoying.
Second, Shattered Reflections: Poetry in Chaos is officially up for sale as a Paperback and eBook. Within the next few weeks, you should be able to purchase at just about any bookstore or eBook retailer. Those that use Smashwords for eBook purchase will find it free for a few week on eBook, so head there and get a copy.
Thanks for following and I can’t wait to get back to the fun, after the move.
Have Faith, do the work, accept the struggle, and it will end well.
Welcome to the greatest lie,
an illusion of freedom already lost.
A debt beyond the day you die,
life comes at an insurmountable cost.
You rent a home even when a deed is shown,
Don’t dare miss the amount you must pay.
The government charges you for what you own,
and they’re more than happy to take it all away.
If you want to have an RV or even drive a car,
You must pay year after year for that right.
Refuse to give in and you won’t get far,
a lawn ornament is the reward for your spite.
Feeling a bit sick and need some medical aid,
time to flush out the bank account once again.
Sure, you have insurance coverage in which you paid,
The added fees and copay are a battle you cannot win.
Can you refuse any of these or get around the fee?
Can you stand up and say you won’t pay?
Homeless or in jail is where you’ll ultimately be.
Courtesy of the freedom in the U.S. of A.
Here’s to my father,
All that I shall be,
The only one who’d ever bother,
To make my dreams a reality.
With the love that you share,
And the courage that you show,
With the knowledge that you care,
And to all answers, you seem to know.
With you here for me,
Guiding me straight and true,
Helping me become what I want to be,
To my father, I thank you.
Happy Fathers Day!
Deep under the covers of an early morn,
Slumbers the saddest figure ever known,
Tangled in sheets, stale food, and ripped up porn,
Signs of a boredom clearly shown.
This figure has a pathetic look,
Built up from weeks of nothing to do,
Too lazy to even pick up a book,
So he keeps tripping on it as he passes through.
But back at the bed where he lays,
Half-naked and smelling like week-old socks,
This is an improvement of his recent days,
For he usually smells like rum and sweaty jocks.
Something far away causes him to stir,
An echoing ring of a distant phone,
With a glimmer of hope he wipes away the blur,
And picks up the receiver, just to hear dial-tone.
Frustrated that nobody ever calls,
He slowly climbs out of his messy bed,
But he trips over a book and steps on some tennis balls,
Crashing down and bumping his aching head.
Realizing that he’s kissing the floor,
He drags his sore body to his feet,
Slowly, he limps over to the bathroom door,
With a look on his face of utter defeat.
While in the shower, twice he hears,
What sounds like the phone in the next room,
Tripping over the book each time, he’s almost in tears,
As he realizes that it’s the television in the living room.
After twenty minutes of water but no soap,
He lazily dries off with a wash rag,
His face still filthy, how can he cope?
The answer lies with a forty in a paper bag.
Even with the T.V. on, he’s always watching the phone,
Hoping for someone to call him with a job,
But as the commercials blare, rant, and moan,
All he can think is “Who would hire a slob”?
Droning on like this, never changing a thing,
A vicious cycle day after day,
But he always remembers why the phone doesn’t ring,
For he never put in any applications anyway.
Black and White answers for such heavily colored issues rarely make for valid solutions.
A piece of my soul,
a hollowed out hole,
a terrible tole,
trapped in the dark.
An endless nightmare,
nobody seems to care,
thick is the air,
Trapped in the dark.
Body screams in pain,
Nothing there to gain,
Hope dies in vain,
Trapped in the dark.
Mind full of lies,
Black as the skies,
open up my eyes,
Never in the dark.