The Masked Sleepyz

The Masked Sleepyz Dec 2013

Lady Gaga's poker face is off,

While I hear Dr.Frankenstein maniacal cough,

Marlyn's eyes pacing and keeping with her anxieties,

with Bob Dylan telling her about his newest sobrieties,

Bunch a ******* cards says Loretta Lynn,

I'm all in says he with the masochistic words written on his chin,

Gaga throws her dark shades on her slave Popculture,

he bows and tries to back out the door,

When Elvis and Kerry Grant grab his collar,

and tell him to earn his dollar.

My hand is nothing but missed connections,

and different lives I might have lived.

I fold.

The Masked Sleepyz Dec 2013

I'd burn it away if it wasn't typed.

Read it, She says with sly eyes and a caring voice, There is my choice, Be fine, pack your briefcase, hat, and pen, There is never a place to go, only a when, Don't walk up to the house and knock, You'll see only the girl with saddness in her little walk, You have choice, put away the pen, walk away with prideful sin, And never come back, But your tied to her heart and the type, So sit down and see what you write, But there is nothing. You stand in the doorway of other people's memories, Watching them sing and close your fist at the sight of weak knees, Grit your teeth and curse inside, But never let them see you cry, Old man you have too much pride, Take your notes and move onto the next room, Things I'll never do, always and forever, Stare with trivial eyes at a place I thought I had hidden. This is madness.

The Masked Sleepyz Dec 2013

By: The Poet.

News feeds and nose bleeds,

staring back through the screen,

shouting, and screaming,

everyone is doing fine if you catch my meaning,

photographers and band members,

but the poet, no one remembers,

singers are showing their songs,

and painters are filling their bongs,

messengers going on benders,

but the poet, no one remembers,

they are burning up the page,

with their eyes filled with ambitious rage,

saying things that have meanings to another,

everyone likes,

everyone acts like future lenders,

but the poet, no one remembers,

everything is great,

in the pictures they take,

doing something that matters to the rest of the Earth,

people heralding what they have done since their birth,

born into ambition,

showing another used up rendition,

to them, it is but just the beginning of soon to be embers,

but the poet, no one remembers

This is my usual format so if you look at my other poems not like this you can get a better idea of what they should look like

The Masked Sleepyz Dec 2013

I didn't go overboard but i'm barely hanging on

Think of her as the pills go down the hatch, ask for a cigarette and strike the match, think of her as take a drag, try to hide that your mad, mad at you and yourself, take a drag think of her and cry over your degrading health, breed the pity, and walk with a crutch, old man you can't take much, before you wind up here, stare at dying the dying cigarette with fear, two more doesn't matter, when its all that's left.

Follow the commas and get the breaks

The Masked Sleepyz Dec 2013

Will she have green eyes, or is this another bad rhyme

I should have run to Japan, to be the writer that I can, to sing folk to girls who are smiling because they can, I should have road the rails, staring at the never ending cities with hearts ablaze, ducking down into a dreamland maze of alley ways, give my poems to hobos and gays, and find any naru to sing karaoke, go into dens and clubs that traded air for smoking, I'd be the talk of toast, and the **** of the island, or I'd get drunk with samurais on a foam pylon, I'd ask a geisha to dance, but get nervous and spill my drink all over my pants, I'd go with malcontents and roughdy otakus as we hit the arcades on speed, I'd stay at a hotel and get married married in the states, I'd fall in love with a girl for a weekend and shed tell me she hates fancy dinners but loves dates, I would end up sleeping in the hills, high and full of chills, I'll tell school children what the stars mean, even though they can't be seen, I'll write a poem about my sin, of wanting my right, my right of a writing man, in Japan.

The title is suppose to be about Naru, a fictional character(who has green eyes) but represents that true love

The Masked Sleepyz Nov 2013

Untitled

I said I'm sorry in a tone,
I always feel alone,
but you know the right words,
a humming to rival birds,
as you clean the dishes,
I proclaimed I'll make you proud,
in a voice so loud,
even rocks thought it was true,
no resentment no grudge,
even though you'll never budge,
on seeing me better than what I am,
so as I know I can call once the day is done,
every hero was a son,
I couldn't ask more and I hope my own sees me like I see you,
no other words can be my hero my father,
but I love you.

My padre is sjr1000 and I look up to his writing and I felt I never have done him justice...hopefully this is a start.

The Masked Sleepyz Nov 2013

I'll hold your hand as the bombs drop.

Ive seen the end, a beautiful end to rival summer, transforming into fall, a heart stall, as another word is said, I fall and smile to the dance of the dead, I don't fear what may come, because every moon has a sun, a dance with dragons, and a simple song gone with the wagons, I don't fear what you surmise, because even with doomsday there is still a beautiful sunrise, don't be scared of what may come, because every moon needs a sun, I'm scared I might be trying, and with your smile I'm scared you are losing, there are many to say they loved me and I attempting to return the favor but will never do, just know as friends or less...ill never forget or leave ..