It is Springtime
when the sparkle of sun
lights up
the stage
where the frogs
commence glorious practice.
I stand unknown to their singing.
I would sing myself. But they are baritones!
My soprano is mute.
Deep and in tune with the day
they cannot be out of tune
while Mother Nature smiles approvingly.
Dedicated to V.D.
I adore you
I bloom.
You are there
every day
in my strawberry heart
I’m a self-starting engine
But I’m running on empty
Gasping for some fumes
Solitary without a choice
Sentenced to house arrest
Isolated with no helping hand
With a sociopath in charge
Incompetence is his recipe
Brewing malignant neglect
Extended to those suffering
With greed the sole ingredient
Thin the herd-rule the world
I postulate that I still can believe
they must rise, make for the strange rooms
where madmen dandled with
the sadness of the coke-filled wounds
which sang and sang all night
and the mad must appear salved
by those old-type native foolish things
which don the jeweller’s hocked
and sin-beleaguered rings
and the scene was direly set
to feature fools who should not
dive in the pools (once called the lakes)-
the stage was cold and would not
darken the faces of death’s cot…
demurely, night must swallow day?
More at https://www.jamesbellamy.org/.
The only thing the world
Needs is more love
Yet we go out of our
Way to hurt and destroy
The people that matter the most,
Yet we think we are
The dominant species
Who think know what love is,
If we truly did would we destroy it?
Out of the window of the quiet night
is a group of spirits,
On the right are the meteors of yours，
On the left is ａ bright moon of mine.
The world is so quiet now,
There‘s the darkness still blooming,
There’s a light that’s not awake yet to has fun.
I confess it,
There’re many scenes that aren’t lustful.
I confess it,
There’s brewing a lot of determination
from all the hopes and lines.
The night had come without ａsmile,
Setting with silence and cold.
May you can look at the bright moon at this time again，
May you can wish for the meteors
without any doubts or pains.
Hiding inside my story line
Under the skin I live in
The bones
That keep it together
An unmade bed
with rumpled sheets
Dreaming in 3 D
The mask of many faces
Can boil your blood
Kiss your heart
Draw you into the breath
Of chaos
Move right in
Ponder these words
On the page
And dress my naked Metaphor