THE ULTIMATE POETRY COLLECTION 2003
BOOK #01
FULLY OUT OF THE FANTASY
No more,
Gods, saints, or demons for me;
I’m climbing my own tree,
Stepping fully out of the fantasy.
January 19, 2003
SHANTY SHACK
This is my place,
The correct address of my face -
This shanty shack,
Where lights break,
Drips tap;
This is my home,
My earthly womb,
This is where,
I smell home’s perfume.
I’m back,
And happily living,
In my shanty shack.
January 19, 2003
MY MAN
My man,
Is masked -
I have no clue,
Of his hair color,
Eye color,
Shoe size,
Build;
He’s a blank cloud -
His hand I’m yet to pull,
His voice is yet to sound,
In my ears ring aloud;
I’ll hear it one day,
Hear it across the hallway;
That’ll be a great day,
A wonderful new quay.
January 19, 2003
TURNING MY OWN TYRES
Mr honesty – Mr “Purity”
Is a horny kid sleeping in a bunk,
A total drug addict/drunk,
Who keeps hoards of whores in his spare trunk;
Rumored to have born,
A bastard baby already –
His facial hair isn’t even shewn.
The bare truth is,
Bunking is all he aspires,
That and owning something which causes internal fires;
I’d never go his way -
I kind of already knew this,
Just was learning with his fib comparatives.
The fantasy was a nice game,
But I’m sick of the costumes -
The internal stage I’ve lit on fire;
I’m living,
Turning my own tires.
January 19, 2003
January 20, 2003
MY EMPIRE
Any man,
Who wants to be with me,
Will have to follow me.
I’m not playing second pan -
I’m first and one,
My own ruling sun;
I’m not going to run -
When I move,
It’s going to be to my own hall.
This is my empire,
Others rules here fall -
This is where I rule all.
January 19, 2003
January 20, 2003
DISINTERGRATING CHAINS
The girl looks at her wrists -
Chains where still on her,
She didn’t even notice.
She fiddles with the cuffs -
They instantly disintegrate;
Her mind overtakes,
She breathes and confidently makes haste.
January 20, 2003
THE REALITY
The reality is,
The only saintly one is me -
I’m the one with the view,
Of waiting on a love so true,
Before I give my pure love out -
That’s me – I’ll never turn about.
But T is a drunk,
A down-to-earth, warm, fun, honest,
Highly intelligent, carefree, swearing, pill popping punk -
With a vicious temper;
He’s the kind who whispers any sweet-nothing to a girl,
To get into her panties,
And cause a whirl;
C – well I know not too much -
Nice upfront -
I’m told he holds a malice temper when it’s in full brunt;
Smokes bongs - that I know;
But I don’t know – never really studied him,
In the window;
M – well he’s the sweetest guy from Jerk County,
With eyes heavenly blue;
He’s got an overblown ego too,
Thinks intimacy is dunking a girls head into his used loo;
Holds a tongue which lies to “protect you,”
He smokes nicotine, womanizes, and swears too;
Yeah, he’s a stupid fool,
Who never realizes he squishes ants,
With each step of the shoe.
That is the guys,
Out of the dreamy skies -
And quite frankly I’m done,
Putting everything in the bin.
I’m living my life – my dreams within;
And hopefully with my smile,
A little delight is what I can bring,
To this world which is shivering.
January 20, 2003
DREAMING BABY NO LONGER
It’s no secret,
I’ve been inwardly getting stronger,
Since my life’s lapse and collapse -
I’m a dreaming baby no longer.
I’m walking my path,
My own boat I row;
Yeah I’m driving my one-person motorbike,
Doing what I like;
This is my real life,
The playing of my fife.
January 20, 2003
UNKNOWN
It’s no secret,
I’ve been following my head,
And not attraction or my heart -
And this is where we really make an interesting start;
In a relationship,
You need to find a balance between the two;
Need understanding, honesty, truth, and trust,
Yet also comfortable and content when two bodies are close too.
I have no idea,
Who this mystery man could be -
He’s a shadow standing in front of me;
An unknown who’s yet to in front of me step.
January 20, 2003
THE CAUSE OF MY SHIMMER AND TINGLE
I’ll perhaps,
Be married one day,
When I meet a guy,
I like that way;
But I’m willing to bet,
None of that,
Is for a while yet.
I’m happy being single -
I care not for senseless mingle;
I’m reaching for my aspirations,
They are what currently give,
My tongue, skin, and eyes their shimmer and tingle.
January 20, 2003
THE ONLY WAY TO FIX PROBLEMS
Sometimes you’ve got to stop running,
Have to just slow down and come to a halt,
Before turning around,
Finding the problem,
And with a wrench work on tightening the loose bolt;
Yeah problems are only fixed that way,
That’s the only way to make them fade away.
January 20, 2003
THE END OF THE ROAD
The desert-lined road,
Comes to a dead end -
The girl kills the engine and steps out;
Looking about,
She finds lush green mountains all around;
She spins – no man –
Just her, the air, and ground.
Suddenly a horse’s wail sounds,
And out from a ditch,
Comes a pure velvet black mare,
With flowing brown hair;
She stops right in front of the girl,
And brays a warm “hello.”
The girl laughs.
“So it’s you and me now?” she asks.
The mare rises onto her hind legs,
Neighing while the sun shines from behind;
“Alright;” the girl says,
Hopping on the mares back,
“Let’s make track!”
The horse lunges forward,
For the hills of pure green -
Sun shimmering.
January 20, 2003
STEPPING FOR YOURSELF
So very different it is,
Stepping for yourself,
And out of a dream;
You see where you’re walking,
And not imagining on a screen.
When you’re stepping for yourself,
You step with meaning -
It’s so different,
From the demeaning private screening.
January 20, 2003
RECOVERED FROM RAPE
My life,
Has been raped away from me;
Never again will that be.
I was a dreamy child once,
Who desperately thought she needed,