Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sammy Said

I always wonder,
Why it takes fifteen seconds to fall,
When it takes years to erect a wall
That stretches across your face,
s**t,
It's coming back to me now,
Love isn't actually
A-miss,
It's just this
Grey-zone list,
Of numbers and meaningless pictures fit,
"god, god, god"
he didn't speak a-word,
Though the clock was ticking fore,
Something seems to have gone wrong with all the lore,
"more, more, more"
Whore,
It's coming back to my core,
The ways I adored it
When you hit the floor,
Four more saw,
The sins I'd implore,
These metaphors are s**t,
Someone had better start the wit,
It's stopping the dysentery of this century.

Ma'am.



Poetry is Gay

Consort with your abuser.
Incandescent confuser.
Sometimes we hear.
What is really best to fear?

Smooth and candid glow…
Where did your fire go?
Acquired tastes for luscious foes,
Never thought you'd hire rows…
And rows of roe.

You sold your soul
For a lesser alter ego.
Hearts seep,
Damaged, deaf and deceit.

I wish I could peel back your hand,
Reveal that land,
Where hearts revel,
in tiny run down hotels.

Ancient band,
Henceforth command
To prove,
To prove,
To prove
Nothing new.



1957

In the summer of 1957
A boy was born.
Clockwork interior and leather arms.
He loved long and hard.
But he didn't know where to start.

Who was the very one who showed him how to play his part?
Not Mary Magdalene, nor the Father of saints.
It was his mother:
She who was bold and great.

She had hair of ivory,
And Tusks of gold.
I loved her always,
Just like my very own.

We parted ways,
Said our farewells.
Then down came Jesus,
Who spoiled the broth while we rose in our very own homes.

"Curses to your children,
Curses to your meat.
If I haven't seen you for this long,
Then I haven't seen in weeks."

The boy in question,
Who hasn't left the streets
Is young and virile
If it wasn't for the lack of movement in his very own feet.

Harharhar.
very much appreciated.