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Juneau Aug 2014
on this pale blue dot that we all populate
to each other our stories we begin to communicate
some stories get aggressive and begin to dictate
believing we all should share a similar state-
of mind, and simply cannot tolerate
to see others whose ideas they cannot relate
will make them go mad, make them all irate
they want their own story to completely dominate
but no ideas last forever, our minds were built to create-
explanations to what happens after our expiration date
the meaning of life may still be up for debate
i think we make our own and there's no such thing as fate
perhaps the whole point of this is just to procreate
is there a such thing as nirvana or a heavenly gate
there's no way to know these things we all have to wait
death will always be a mystery so make this life great
August 27, 2014
Twenty-nine
  Aug 2014 Juneau
Shel Silverstein
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
And every time he did a trick,
Everyone felt a little sick.
And every time he told a joke,
Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke.
And every time he lost a shoe,
Everyone looked awfully blue.
And every time he stood on his head,
Everyone screamed, "Go back to bed!"
And every time he made a leap,
Everybody fell asleep.
And every time he ate his tie,
Everyone began to cry.
And Cloony could not make any money
Simply because he was not funny.
One day he said, "I'll tell this town
How it feels to be an unfunny clown."
And he told them all why he looked so sad,
And he told them all why he felt so bad.
He told of Pain and Rain and Cold,
He told of Darkness in his soul,
And after he finished his tale of woe,
Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no,
They laughed until they shook the trees
With "Hah-Hah-Hahs" and "Hee-Hee-Hees."
They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks,
They laughed all day, they laughed all week,
They laughed until they had a fit,
They laughed until their jackets split.
The laughter spread for miles around
To every city, every town,
Over mountains, 'cross the sea,
From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee.
And soon the whole world rang with laughter,
Lasting till forever after,
While Cloony stood in the circus tent,
With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent.
And he said,"THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT -
I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT."
And while the world laughed outside.
Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.
Juneau Aug 2014
there was a man
with hair on his face
it grew and grew
all over the place

there was no place
it did not grow
a face so hairy
only his eyes did show

his big thick beard
was almost black
but red and blonde hairs
he did not lack

over his lips and ears
it did so drape
so he took his scissors
and began to shape

he took his time
he snipped with care
but in the end
he cut too much hair

his hair lay in a clump
within his hands he did cup
and thought to himself
well i ****** this all up

looking in the mirror
he really felt sad
thinking back 5 minutes
to the beard he just had

all and all
this really did blow
but it will be back
in a few weeks or so
August 26, 2014
Twenty-eight
Juneau Aug 2014
Introvert, extrovert, people of every kind
The toughest battles we face take place within the mind
So take what you need to try and unwind
You're not the only one who's feeling behind
We all suffer the same so remember to be kind
You never know what other troubles people find
Without the needless actions and speaking of others with malign
If you've ever done this leave those habits behind
So that we can all focus on alleviating our own internal grind
August 21, 2014
Twenty-seven
Juneau Aug 2014
There are plenty of flowers that flourish in my garden
Too many to pick just one, but all the days of my life to enjoy the ones I choose
One at a time I pluck my next blossom
I choose just one and allow her inside
Her beloved aroma excites my nostrils
Her beauty brightens each day I am with her
However with each day that beauty dims
Those vibrant colours dull and fade
My once beloved fragrance now bores me
For its been the same smell day after day
I ask "What’s wrong my love, why are we no longer satisfied with each others company?"
My love does not respond to my query
Yet her reply does come to me in time
Nothing in this universe shall stay the same
My flower is no longer the flower i once choose from my garden
My love for this flower is now gone with my realization
Does this make me a bad person?
I think not
isn’t love just an emotion
Can I not as easily fall in and out of love as I become happy or sad
With this thought I travel back outside
To choose from the many flowers that flourish in my garden
2008
I hope I have improved over time.
Juneau Aug 2014
please oh please don’t feel sorry for me
just because my love happens to be poison ivy
she makes me itch she makes me scratch
but I’ll always be ready to jump in the next batch
she makes me rub until I am sore
but with out her my happiness fades more and more
every few weeks she clears from my body
green leaves of three why won’t you love me
I try my best, I just don’t know what to do
when i venture through your bush I’ll even take off my shoe
I dream of the day it’s just you and I
but until that day I’ll sit here and sigh
I sometimes wonder if i should just call off the chase
but I can’t just stop thinking about you, you’re all over my face
I know I can’t change you so I won’t even try
i love everything you do to me especially that rash on my thigh
so don’t pity this boy and his green leaves of three
she has spread to my eyes and is now all I see
First poem I ever wrote in highschool. 2008
Juneau Aug 2014
As the road gets dangerous,
begins to incline.
I realize my future,
starts to get tough.

I look to my past,
at what I called mine.
Reveals my lost love,
my gem in the rough.

My eyes blur with tears,
but I am not sad.
My head swells with fears,
I forgot what I had.

The roads are my home now,
in them I found new love.
Life as a vagabond:
pure as light;
white as a dove.
March 23, 2012
Fifth
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