I have loved too much,
its just imagery in my head.
You can tease me kindly
and I'll love you fondly,
I know its flirting at the end,
Those all-seeing eyes
like the shining of bright
Pelicans flap and cry
when its not time to fly.
Dead at the end graffiti
A rebel's chest not perished.
These old steps decrepit
barely can take my weight
and my visions are serious,
recent until flaming wheat

You won't...
take
me as I
present,
and
the world
spins
in circles,
I fear
body parts
rusty
old
gears
and
washed
out
and
dusty
old
Shark,
with
his
wisdom
teeth
coming
thr­ough
to **** him.

I just wish to say
thank-you
for agreeing
that poem I wrote
shouldn't
have been removed.
I do apologize
for losing it
in the past,
and I'll try
much harder
to never again
and ignore them.

I wish the sound of the siren,
will get you off the roof,
you're a crazy ***-*******
but I can't lose you,
The best friend who
was kind to introduce
me to the sweet anarchy
of the pranks and tactics
like when we removed
the lights in a beach side
harbor of fish and chips
and all our chaotic ****.
The flash-lights of police
we had to jump
a barbed wire fence
and the others
got caught.
I was hiding
behind a tree
and I swear
the flashlight
caught my gaze
but you and I
were the only ones.
The three girls
and 4 guys
got carted away
but only you and I...
were the survivors.
It would have killed
our parents,
you sleeping at mine
and me sleeping at yours
Its a trick for the parents.....
God, I miss you my friend,
you may have landed a bomb
but you treated me
always with respect,
despite that police station
news for the nation,
you crazy *** mother.....
You always said,
you'll be on TV,
Hey, its your legacy.....

So, there're crumbs for the frail,
who can't ever hope to sail
And I as a son myself failed
I don't deserve to be bailed...

Dew splashes
in the
winter-time
saturating
everything
soggy
branches
but our
skin
wrapped inside
our houses
immune
to what
we need
on this voyage.

A soaking
in the rain
to me
is
satisfaction
on a grand
and wish-ful
scale.

I don't wish
to be saved
unless the scales
announce
I have failed
but as a flip flop fish,
survived the hail,
of fishing lines,
dreamy is red wine...
Fishing ends
These men
have it made,
as the *****
will flow
to their minds.