WordsWin

my heart does purr

my heart does purr
for visions of grandeur that’s for sure
i have a need, for speed,
and the action, is my main attraction
sit still, not me it makes me ill.
i have to move all the time
and my words have to rhyme
my thoughts never stop,
and my eyes always shop.
i very seldom buy,
and a lot of things i am too afraid to try.
in my soul is fire,
and i hope to keep it right down to the end of the wire
i like to drive fast,
and i don’t like coming in last.
fast like to skate,
i try not to hate
i try to forgive
as i live
but most of all i do,
look for what is true
i like my music loud
i enjoy a crowd
unless it is a traffic jam,
then i say damn
i like my coffee strong
sometimes i like to taste it all day long
most of all i like it black
and it gets my mind zooming on its racetrack
i like passion
it is my fashion
i like to feel the escalated heartbeat
to me that is a treat
i don’t like to bunt
i would rather go for it on fourth down then punt
to me that is fun
i won’t take a walk, but i’ll take a base hit
i’ll go for the steal to second, on first i won’t sit
my heart does sing
to swing
in the end i’ll just say i did it
and out of my soul i spit it.

“I don’t swat flies”

This is my new book of poems some old mostly new, if you’re bored it may be something to do, so read on, if you wanna feed on, my thought, the words are so milky smooth they should be bought.

fly around (creative writings)

does a bee fly around looking to sting
does it look for a thing
to sting
is that the tune it does sing
or does it once in a while get aroused and mad
and then does it act to this passing fad
it buzzes around
looking for flesh on the ground
looking to penetrate
it can’t wait
or does he have control
and away from the flesh can he pull
or does he have to sting
any thing
and if he does
does he still have passion in his buzz
or does he lose it all
does he now stumble and stall
or does he buzz the same
like a burning hot flame
or does he now flicker
because he used his stinger his sticker
what happens to the bee
what happens to me
what happens to the stung flesh
it hurts, its wound is fresh
and hurts bad
is the flesh sad or mad
is it the same
or does it give all bumble bees blame
does it want to be stung again
and again
i don’t think so
no
but let’s deal with the present sting
the flesh is penetrated by this thing
is it the same
i don’t think so, first of all there is someone to blame
because it hurt
more if the flesh is not covered by a shirt
the flesh remembers the feeling
and the pain it was reeling
and now there is something inside
under the skin it does hide
in the flesh there is something new
there is the flesh and the stinger, now there is two
out of the flesh the stinger may come
and the flesh maybe scarred some
and now the bee and flesh are different
because the bee did vent
good or bad
sad or glad
neither one is the same
and i don’t know if it takes passion from the flame
so be careful about a bee sting
it does change the thing
that’s what it does do
for both that’s true
so be careful of the bee sting
be careful if you’re the flesh
i hope your hears ring
because in the end neither one is fresh

digging (poem)

in my head i’m digging deep
i’m going down and it’s steep
i’m here,
but i’m there
i’m down i’m way under
and i wonder
i’m searching, i’m looking
my mind is boiling over it’s cooking
i’m digging a hole
looking for a treasure
and it fulfills my soul
there’s no way to measure
that’s why i left this place
but you can still see my face
but i’m there, and i’m here
and i’m digging and digging
and dirt is flying
and i’m wigging
and sighing
i’m onto something
it’s occupying my mind
and onto it does sing
it does grind
to this thing
it must find
people are standing over the hole
and they wonder what i do
what’s my role
and they look at me
and what do they see
they see my face
but i’m digging for a new place
i’m here, but i’m there
and they wonder
and they start throwing rocks and words to get my attention down under
and i feel their assault
and insult
but i can’t drop the shovel because i’m busy
time is running out
you see
no doubt
and i hit the tip of the treasure
that you can’t measure
and i have to find its core
its door
so i can’t stop
till i find it or dead do i drop
so i’m there, but i’m here
and i can’t stop
i can’t come back to the ground
no matter how big the rock or sound
so when you are talking to me
i’m there
you see
but i’m here

WordsWin

my heart does purr

“I don’t swat flies”

fly around (creative writings)

digging (poem)

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