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F T Scorza Jun 16
Beavers and hogs are into some ****.
They see rats above, flying on wings.
Pumpkin seeds are scratching their feet,
They don’t know what the future brings

Old rotten apples always cajole
Fresh oranges with some trickery.
Like papayas, they fall into a hole,
Cooking a juice of pure misery.

Ancient mushrooms fluoresce in blue,
Deep in a forest under crescent sky.
Pungent flowers of sulfur bloom,
Bringing the coarsest monkeys to die.

Suddenly, the old elks awake
Oblivious to their common mistake.
F T Scorza Jun 14
I woke up from comatose
For taking a strong dose
Of some freak herbal tea

My hands were feeling cold
They looked wrinkled and old
From sleeping by the sea

Then I was told
By a lady wearing gold
That I needed new clothes
For I was shattering my teeth

She said I could get some gloves
At a warehouse down the road
And shoes for my feet

So, I drove my shopping cart
Down the Street of the Destitute
There to the old mart
To get me some mittens and boots

On the end of the road, I saw
A decrepit brick wall
Where the old market stood

It was forsaken place
Long left in disgrace
With windows of rotten wood

I walked through the parking ground
Until by the gates I found
An ancient pig as guard

I knew I was out of luck
When my vehicle got stuck
And I couldn’t run a yard

As the crinkled hog struck
I quickly tried to duck
Behind the shopping cart

The beast jumped like a goat
And it almost got my throat
But I escaped by a hair

I promptly offered him some wine
Because I knew that a swine
Would drink without a care

My gift worked out fine
The mean creature got benign
My neck it would spare

The guard got drunk as a skunk
And I quickly dived in the junk
As a stuporous pig laid on the ground

In a pile of scraps, I sunk
And amidst the waste I found
A pair of gloves for cold weather
And boots of shiny leather
F T Scorza Jun 13
My energy levels are down
Batteries depleted
A broken robot stuck on the ground
Beaten and defeated

I’m close to self-destruction
I need an electrocution
A power charge flowing through my circuits
Toasting my bits, baking my pieces

Someone, please help me
Erase my memory
And reset me free
F T Scorza May 16
Sailing an aluminum can through the plastic ocean,
Cruising across narrow passages and dangerous ways,
Rocking and rolling under the continuous motion
Of dark poisonous mercury waves.

The boiling sun elevates a sulfuric mist from the sea,
Its torching heat blisters his darkened skin.
His mouth stings as if full of bees,
A desert of fluorescent water, not a drop to drink.

Zombie sharks surround the little cask,
Decaying fish breaths make him dizzy.
Corroded by acid, the tin starts to crack,
Escaping certain doom will not be easy.

Rowing, rowing, faster, faster,
He seeks the long-lost Island of Bliss.
The only place where he can find Her
And perish from a venomous kiss.
F T Scorza May 15
I don’t care about dying
I don’t even feel this life is mine
I just want a restart
To get it right this time

I wish I were born again
Back in 1982
So, I could erase my mistakes
And do the things I didn’t do

I wonder what it would be like
Living from my guitar
Singing songs from my heart
Travelling under the stars

Now I’m bolted to an office chair
Enclosed by partition walls
Losing my graying hair
Tormented by phone calls

I wish I were born again
Back in 1982
So, I could erase my mistakes
And do the things I didn’t do

I should’ve never let go
Those deep emerald eyes
That sunny smile that shone
So beautifully under blue skies

Now, I’m hiding in the kitchen
Pursued by my two ex-wives
Running around like a chicken
While dodging flying knives

I wish I were born again
Back in 1982
So, I could erase my mistakes
And do the things I didn’t do
F T Scorza May 14
Hey, New Western Oligarchs!
We can’t travel on the rockets you fly
To take the fortunate to Mars
And leave our own planet to die.

You spread misinformation
That inflames our younger minds
Crushing a whole generation,
You ruin the future of mankind.

You level mountains for rare metal,
Seeking digital immortality.
You break our Earth for petrol,
Your greed finds no morality.

But in the end, you’ll see
You are of the same dust as me.
F T Scorza May 12
Dark clouds gather in my head
Forecasting a thunderous storm
They cover the blue sky
A thick haze form
Obscuring my mind

Flashes explode everywhere
They stun me
I can’t see

Thunders resound inside my skull
Their thudding echoes make me so dizzy
I feel like falling

Freezing rain starts to pour
It drips relentlessly from my eyes
Cascading over my chest
Frosting my heart

I seek refuge in myself
And contemplate the storm
Trembling
Waiting
Letting it be

Until it’s gone
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