So grace me through
my colors
Let's Start

God Grace me

Someone was smart
To raise me
But the blaze
came and love
pursued me
He pushed me
Into his hot blaze

His ***** of fire
A big part of the script
Another lift in his
desire
But my lips
Got raised up
But couldn't.sustain
the fire
The glossy shimmer
Sky hug
He Aint nothing but
a hound dog goodbye
Raised me Orange
Red Robin fly

But how you
face me
Never to
disgrace me

You pick me up with
all my goods
Odds with the bad
Honorable Gods
And so many facets
of my moods
Watch out!!
Starburst
Or a war curse

We  evaporate
In fragments

Orange segments
Sliced and eaten

Love forbidden fruit
One hidden

Embrace the warm solitude

all over your face,
Someone is rude
Fresh Orange
told you
It's Fate

That brought us
together
Orange juicier sun

So many love forms
Whose terms? Just run
This world full of
germs
But to juice things up


How the colors of your
eyes came to an epical stop

But nursed me
orange juice hip hop

He dazed into me
After-life
They named her
Saucy before-life
See ablaze
orange zest
See me and fly me
At my very best

My breast was
so nicely raised


Lips so fruitful
he cannot
resist you know
the rest??

In the mix of orange
things
Pink rings
Butterfly eyes
winged

Was set so privately-----*

The red tail hawk
Was the talk of the 
 Orangey words flowy
Popsicle poppy eye town
No time to refresh
my colors

Free bird orange up
The ramp no lady
and tramps
Just (Gypsies Orange Vamp)
The rocks fall to thump
Trump orange fixtures
Towers Forestal Gump

The soothing smile of lights
He came to you pop features
All over my place
So cultural to the race
The colors of
Orange mellow
oh! no
Here comes yellow----

Creaming into his
creamsicle
Gelato
popsicle
My feeling divided
like politics

Been sliced by
the orange Super bowl
Erotics
Sunny California Kist
Rodeo drive what a
list
Satanic red
Orange Christ
But that orange
She Shh_ sheets
Had the most vibrant
juicy beats
Tomato vines Rome
Lend me your orange
No ears no other
color of tears

Villians of vineyards
Orange bowl of fruit
No Junkyards
The owl started to hoot
Towards the bad apple

My heart was galloping
Shrimp and scallop
Right in my western charm
boot he takes off

Another mix of paint
Orange isn't carrots and
pumpkins
Austin Power Mini-me
Munchkins

Or goblins spooked
Mandarin Orange lovely
Divinely licked
Gingerly lovely Cayenne
Sweet Pepper he looked at her
Lucky 7 Orange ring karat

Whats up Doc_

Any cracks of his cravat
Orange Key-West lock
Doesn't turn get off
my block
I am going to
Bangkok
With Chuck

Having Orange Tang
He was holding me
777 karat ring
The  Mediterranian
party
Why so dead sea
Pink Smarty
Orange blosson tea
Orange Marquis
Louis and Diamonds
All clockwork
Orange movies

In the lounge of
Raymonds of ring
junkies
Pour OJ for me
**** a doodle doo

Flash of orange came at me
Do you want to?

The operation of heartless
surgery
The Showstopper emergency
Revived refreshing lady
of purity but no orange
The
((Orange Marquis))
Off to see the Wizardly
Orange field gorgeous
WC fields raise

Writer with the
lucky pen praise
Her editor was
the perfect color
ten

Miss coralline with
her coral rock
The mixed infusion

Next color comes up
Raise your brow reaction

Needing a follow-up

Orange rinds
Another call-up
Giddy Apps up
Orange glittering
passion fruit
paintbrush
Soap Opera beauty
and the beast
Another gulp the
pulp pretty in pink
psst_

Orange-pink tropical
girl orange whirl
The orange-red ringlets
She curled inside him
Glass raise you cup trim
In your villa stucco orange
You were breastfeeding
his orange suited juice

No time to see another
color
Orangey wiz showbiz
Arabian sky sunset
burnt orange
The caramel bump
of the camel
Her favorite one
mural

Lips of tang so foreign
She is flaming like a
flamingo bed

Get his color out of
Cotton picking head
Your shampoo
The
"Orange Oddysey"

Hey, what do you say?

Just open your
eyeshadows
He shadows her in

Or a site for sore eyes got
puffy war of
orange bubbles begin

Feather me
orange wings
The fringe orange
suede
flops
you happy

The A+ diet of fruit
he was the
hotshot
Glass
You're at the
bake me
What do you know
he passed

The spa refreshing
orange peel
mystique

Long lace-lit
Unique
He was coming on too
bossy orangey burst
cheeks were falling
Rise up not down
Orange Julius raise
his price
Fed Ex orange truck
got closer to
Her alluring butterfly
Orange U glad
To catch her
To court her
Fast Orange perfume
She Sha shala
femme
Orange flames came
from his cleft

Still no time for your
spouse whoa he left_

Now please let me know

what I left out
Orange you glad

this is the only color love
him madly

The victim list keeps growing

But no one really cares

The gristmill claims another one

Keep your hands in and don't stare

Hollywood is the golden land

The eternal silver screen

But many souls are lost here

A lot of greats or never beens

Child stars and veterans

The names can fill a book

Look, we've lost another one

Keep on moving, no time to look

We show concern when tales we hear

Of celebs dying young

We ruminate on films not made

And songs they've never sung

Each busload brings another group

To fill the starstruck void

And the next bus has a dozen more

With dreams, too soon destroyed

It's been this way since film began

The streets are filled with scores

Of undiscovered junkies,

And photogenic ******.

Some you know and some you don't

It's a list a mile long

It's amazing how these fragile folks

Could end up going wrong

The studios were pimps back then

With bennies all the rage

They loaded up their bonus babes

And then they sent them out on stage

We've seen the Little Rascals

You know Alfalfa Switzer, but,

Did you know he died a ******

From a bullet to his gut?

Scandals, lawsuits, hidden trysts

These stars were fully amped

Girls below the legal age,

Made Chaplins ***** a *****

Arbuckle committed ******

Other's just od'd

It's amazing how the failures

Make for a better read

Oh look another bus trip

Past the houses of the stars

All manicured and landscaped lawns

Just to hide the ****** scars

If you look behind the curtain

Back into the world of Oz

You'll find the munchkins getting plastered

And dear Judy dead because

They made her a screen idol

They broke down the girl inside

They milked her for her talent

****, they took her for a ride,

For every one like Garland

There's a thousand more in line

Just waiting for their chance to see

Their name upon that sign

Keep together, Keep on moving

There's lot's more for you to see

River Phoenix from an overdose

John Belsushi killed by speed

Peg Entwhistle jumped from high atop

The Hollywood sign we see

She decided she had had enough

In either 32 or 33.

Hughes bough loads of starlets

He liked to hide them round the town

But he was always way too busy

Getting up or coming down

James Dean died in a car crash

Add his name unto the glut

And there was young Grace Kelly

It seems our Princess was a ****

Jean Harlows husband shot himself

Clara Bow liked  having fun

In fact she ******* the USC football team

And I think she might have won

Look up and see the smiles

Of the ones who reached their dream

But, many do not go unscathed

In Space they can't hear you scream!

Sal Mineo was murdered,

Then there's dear dear Natalie Wood

They're not saying  RJ done it,

But it sure does not look good

Remember the curly headed kid

Who played Buffy on tv

She ended up so full of drugs

It's a list from A to Z

Now, when stars have problems

they do reheab and they hide

Back then they never had the chance

They just committed suicide

The man of steel, George Reeves

Was found shot in the head

They're not sure who killed Superman

So they said suicide instead,

Bob Crane, our Colonel Hogan

Made **** films and did drugs

But, whle Hogan's Heroes was still on

This was swept under the rugs

We can keep on this forever

Listing failures more than gains

For to be a fallen idol

comes with alot of pain

Child stars, just brushed aside

Their names and faces lost

Their lives are but a footnote

Is their loss the final cost?

You can peek behind the curtain

The wizard's still there today

But, if you come to visit

Please don't make the choice to stay

For, the victim list keeps growing

It gets longer every year

But, for many of these fallen stars

Is there one who'll shed a tear?

It's an image on a silver screen

We love the work they do

But of each ten thousand who do try

There's only one who's dream comes true

So, watch and listen closely

For in Hollywood you'll find

A list of tragic stories

Who the movies left behind.

I remember running to first, faster then a scream
Now that kind of speed is just a foolish dream.
Age is such a vicious foe, slower by the day
My anger yells at speed of light with nothing real to say.
I still dream of hitting first against the burning sun
Each Saturday was just a game, a war that must be won.
The ball was hit just like my soul soaring in the air
Its always true life is foul or sometimes it is fair.
I loved to hear my father’s yell when the play was on my turf
The yells from distant fans of mine screaming for the smurf.
Even munchkins have to age according to the word of  Oz
But baseball dreams have no rules and  it's sons they have no laws.

I just started my new job
As the handyman in the land of OZ
Seems things haven't been going the same
Since the Wizard up and left that day

First off is that house from Kansas
The one that fell on the Witch of the East
There's no way the Munchkins can move it
So we're going to renovate it right there on the side of the street

And turn it into a Bed & Breakfast
Where all the Good Witches can relax and stay
Then they all won't be so apt to
Commandeer a sphere and float away

After that I'll need to buy some silver paint
As the Tin Man is looking rather dull these days
And while I'm at it might as well, some yellow and green
To give the road and OZ a brand new sheen

And since the Witch of the West has been put to rest
I have all the Flying Monkey helpers I can use
As my professional skills will be put to the test
Giving her dingy castle a good ole OZ spruce

I wonder why they've never had someone before
Oh yea, I've also gotta fix that Knocker on the front door
There are so many things that need to be done
Me being the new Handy Man in the land of OZ

A LETTER FOR YOU (AND, OF COURSE, FOR ME, TOO):
It smells like my grandmother's house in here.
Like lazy Saturdays, of dripping sweat, of climbing trees, of building Lincoln Log houses for ants or Deathstars of Legos but I spread my legs and that smell of--regret is not the word, nor is shame--I feel neither--but of came, of stale, cold air and stiff comforters on top a bed at the Best Western--A living proof of how you've changed. After you finish and inhale and burst your exhausted, satisfied breath, I sweetly kiss you--your neck, your jawline, your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids. You hold us in and sleep as if a few drinks are enough to forgive. I tell you to slow down because you owe me about 5 years to make up for lost time. You slip your tongue down as if I had not broken your heart. But a man learns, and that's our biggest difference--man and woman, you and I--you've grown cold and moved on to content loneliness and betterness than to give a girl who's hurt you a second chance.
Me--I've grown to let the warmth run over you, like a hot glass of water from a motel room sink after an ******. Past content, loneliness and betterness than to obsess about a boy grown sour from a girl too hurt to not want to take back the past.
We check in for the night to "make up for lost time."
We check out.
What's a girl to do?
Other than watch you sleep so still like you used to next to me, even with still blankets, it's cold. Hold me?
We walk out to our cars on a hot, departing Fourth of July.
I coax you into closing your lips over mine before you leave, but the key is already turned in. We already ate our free breakfast, ******, scratched, bruised.
You've already checked out, so
what's a girl to do now?
What's a girl to do?
AND
I cannot forget Whitman's words: "We were together, I forget the rest."
AND
Vonnegut's epitaph: "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."
AND
"Every time I kiss you
After a long separation
I feel
I am putting a hurried love letter
In a red mailbox"
AND
I feel like a one night stanza written by you who is more beautiful and unforgiving than words on a page
AND*
I am not drinking quickly enough--or enough, despite the speed
AND
Bukowski's poem:
year-worn
weary to the bone,
dancing in the dark with the
dark,
the Suicide Kid gone
gray.
Ah! the swift summers
over and gone
forever!
Is that death
stalking me
now?
No, it's only my cat,
this
time
AND I DIGRESS BECAUSE
my dear sweet Ambien Walrus has abandoned me in reality among the living. So blissful breaks, only a stomach churning in the minutes passing of a long night.
No worries, Mr. Walrus. I'd abandon me too. Only drinking, imagined aliens, crying and words here--words to document your blessed coming and mournful going into the wee hours of the unforgiving days. There is no glory in the mornings. I watch for you as I watch the hours pass. No bliss in the minutes stretched over the midnight break. Only words, no blessing, no grace, to pass the heavy nagging of the night. Will I see you again?
"We were together, I forget the rest."
What's a girl to do?
AND
oh yeah, drink more. Fingers crossed.
What more can a girl do, really?
OH
take another drink before the liquor runs out.
AND DRAW UPON MISTAKES PAST
I know this letter is getting out of hand
BUT
hear me out for all the words you never had to hear. I promise I'll throw in a joke somewhere.
AND
I sneak outside for a cigarette and watch an armadillo rummage closer to me while I search for another poem to make me feel better, another poem for this letter to you I will never send but maybe, if the situation's right, to read to you on some drunken night. I promised you a joke, but now, I giggle at my own feelings. Maybe you will too. I hope you laugh too--At my hands so aching, at my torn apart ******, at my silly feelings and words to help me forget a reminiscing night of you pushing my hair from my face so you can see my eyes when I purse my lips down below.
SO
here's your joke, I suppose.
This one's on me.
IN CONCLUSION
"At 23, the best of my life is over and its bitters double...I am sick at heart...I have outlived all my appetites and most of my vanities."
Byron knew the futility of joy in little things. In my quest to overcome a trivial ache, I have re-imagined a familiar road to uncertainty, instability, and insanity.
How great thou art!
Give me sleep and less slipping into this place of comfortable communion with the illnesses of my mind.
Of the body of Christ.
Amen.
Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the words and I shall be* sane.
Like Lazarus from the grave:
"This is not what I meant, at all."
"That is not it, at all."
God bless the blue.
What else is a girl to do?
BECAUSE
From the wards, I smell the mourned words of a place that I called home--this imaginary place that we must reinvent ourselves. Maybe mine is on Corporate Woods Drive, and all this--this is just a yellow brick road with little munchkins sweetly singing, follow it back home. I'll skip in a pretty dress with my friends and my babies to smell the grey walls and be asked of safety. I get lost every once in awhile but the Cheshire Cat asks, "where do you want to go?"
"I want to go home," I answer.
"Then," says the cat, "it doesn't matter."
IN OTHER WORDS
"I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir. Because I am not myself, you see?"
"I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think: Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, 'Who in the world am I?' Ah! that's the great puzzle!"
SINCERELY YOURS (AND MINE, TOO)
Natalie

As I wiped the blade the congealing efforts of
what had perspired dripped in raindrops of lost essence,
I started to be nostalgic of when it all started and I smiled.
It isn't easy you know doing this hobby
                                        its a full time commitment,
I have responsibilities. And before you ask just because I live
in my moms basement it didn't have any implications to this
and what led to my endeavours of what I do now.

"You cant just go out stabbing people that bath salts territory
for goodness sakes,

Ok when did it start, around fifteen years ago give or take.
To think about it I was quite violated by the sight of blood,
I passed out at school when someone cut there finger. I know
from fainting to where I am today the paradox of it all.
So I was walking home and I thought stupidly to take a short
cut, I know that's just asking for a dilemma of consequences
but I was running late and thought overrode reason.

"Safer than sorry my mother would say,

I should really listen to words of wisdom than to just throw
them aside and regret them later. Well this time was a moment
of ignorance and I delved into my darker side and threw abandonment
to the winds of chance. I saw that idiot and knew without a thought
that his life needed to be forfeit in the eyes of the many.
In haste I went out and without planning I just used a unregistered firearm. These are so easy to find in ponds, lakes, rivers.You just have
to be stupid enough as I was to delve into them with a wet suit.

It was like swimming in the disgrace of humanity and I accidently
swallowed more of humanity than I wish to admit. As I reached
the shore of the golf course I had found a stupid amount of guns....
Do these pools ever get dredged?? how many angry golfers play
on this field?? but I just cleaned a few out not wiping away the prints,
silly little fools leaving there prints on the weapons.

I must admit the first five or six people that were my pleasure
of ending were just **** holes, total and utter ****-tards....
I know you just cant just going around killing totally
worthy munchkins. But it was my weaving of knowledge
into the formula of departing my subjects in a manner so that
a milk carton was the only focus they would get.
Never to show that they were an item of interest but a random appearance of some disillusioned person in a vendetta of misunderstood reasoning's.

But this lost its stimulation of enthralment  pretty quickly
due to the vacant space between us. It wasn't as if they knew
my face, it was just a finger pull and I ended them to hastily,
I even felt somewhat remorseful for them not knowing the
perpetrate of there demise. and a few ran still lingering to this
existence, do you realize the skill set to hit a moving target.
But none got to far, I didn't take it personally, it was a fight
or flight reaction.

But they were always vacant of life when I walked away
from the scene. I was always throwing these weapons
after a few uses, those that had used it before there prints
still viable. So those that had used it were to blame for
these indiscretions that I had partaken in. Karma was about
to visit upon those lost stories that drowned in that pond.

Learning was a curve that was thrown, and one that hit me
square between the eyes. I had slatted the impression that
I was in the right, and even though I wanted to seep the blade
into the flesh of my perspective victim. I had to watch
the implications of what I had preserved  in that moment.
There were struggles and definitions of what was acceptable.

I still had to hold a job, I worked in a hardware store,
"what are the chances, I know. But where you would think
someone that could easily end the breath of another would
stand out only the crazy ones. We the methodical ones were
patient,  too many and whispers starting and I needed silence this
had to be obeyed and enforced by myself. Urges had to vetted
another way and painting was my outlet for these compulsions.

Each one of us had as we called it our own unique ****** kits,
well what did you think we were going to call them hobby boxes.
Me I had a ways to disable my prey, a motion to move them concealed.
I had a people carrier,
                     "I know the humour didn't escape me either,
I had constructed a vessel to keep them static so not to move
and give the game away, kind of like a straight jacket restraint.
For the murmurs I had constructed a gold fish bowl of sorts,
constructed around the neck and then white noise is pumped
in  revoking the screams because of the frequencies of the
human voice.                
                            "science is so cool,

Do you realize it took five years of planning and a college
class in science to do many aspect of this hobby.
But where do I take them, to there own home, always
checking there schedules. Movement = time = opportunity.
And this is how I have worked all  this time, consistency is
what keeps the path clear for other endeavours.
The sense of smell in each home is unique, some people
though no respect of there surroundings and who may visit.

Do realize that some don't voice opinion as they know
if there in this predicament no words are going to change it.
Some struggle, but I learnt to use a paralyzing agent to render
them motionless. Sedated only tears fall from there suspended
features. I never clean up there mess, I'm not a house maid for
goodness sakes all must be as it was. But I clean up my killing
venture so there is no evidence of there parting here.

I have a little spot, we all have our own hiding places,
research is the key, and mine was a secluded place....
I cant explain where, as that would be telling and who
knows who's reading these passages. I must admit though
this is a full time obsession, "norms, that's you people.
Wouldn't realize the stresses that happen upon my psyche.

All I would say is
                 "Don't quite your day job
This isn't really a hobby for most, they don't have the
patience the needing of planning and the waiting of
who shall gift you their last moment then nothingness.
I am wired different to you people. My empathy for
your feelings is non-existent, we are a moment in time
and I plan to silence your hour glass, your grain is about
to fall into oblivions sights and it will swallow you whole.

Is there really a Middle Earth where Hobbits live or a Land called Oz
Are there really munchkins or  a Yellow Brick Road

Is there really a Lion, a Witch and a Wardrobe
do Harry, Hermonie or Ron live at Hogwarts
Or is it a Land of make-believe

I treat beef like lions in, the Ramada inn, dying to sign into the luncheon,
go to work,
     I punch in,
these beefcakez, is munchkins, my dough nuts, and bunch Keens.
We Brady Bunch,
and Punch like Kens -sheens.
we punching through functions
like a bunch of alienss at the Days Inns working equations off all kinds of ocassions, mostly Caucasian, facials so amazing, when their facebook, if they face them..I page in,and they page Kim, to let him, know that I'm waiting; the appointment meant, we dating, no promo, so stop your hating. take a selfy in the ****, stop ur waiting. ctrl, alt, delete. there's no.escaping- staple the email to your upper lip, recycle trash every other weak in. ***. Ginny, run, Freddy creeping. slow, creepy walk, Jason mask out the Lake Inn, my neighbors laughed, Chevy chasing there ***, child's play with a ****** hockey mask, i'm up to task. dog had a limp,so I made him part of the cast! Bruce Lee kicked, thier ******* ***, I'm talking full body cast.

The days hold America’s rare air
as the election cycle once again ramps up
enough wealth to end poverty
spent daily on advertisements
aimed at convincing the masses
that they can end poverty simply by
being elected –
campaign managers bash statisticians
for expressing pole numbers
not conducive to their bottom line
relying instead on sound bites
and FOX news so-called reporting –
Hundreds of households held for ransom
with “voting” as the only way to avoid
repercussions and retribution
from self-righteous Republicans
wringing their hands, awaiting a win –
mandated munchkins munch on museum merchandise
manufacturing baseless accusations
manipulating the mainstream
always, for more –

Sad poppies salute
those who lie in comrades' arms
in lost, lonely fields

Soft lips blow kisses
that ****** the fragile lust
of deluded minds

Bright light signals stop
to impatient ego trips
that know no better

Sad eyes betray grief
that obscures joy's emotions
with tragic picture

Blazed sunset beacons
a final, glowing farewell
to its daydream child

Oz shoes carry girl
safely over the rainbow
Munchkins cheer loudly

i dreamed i was in oz beyond the milky way
where everything was lovely and where the munchkins play
i saw a yellow brick road and i walked along
singing to my self a happy little song
then i met a tin man while i was on my way
he was stiff and rusty and began to rust away
then i put some oil on and he began to creek
i put on some more and he began to speak
we walked along together  standing side by side
when we saw lion and he began to hide
he was very scared his courage it had gone
so we took him with us then we carried on
further down the road we met a sad scarecrow
he was looking for a brain so his feelings he could show
then we met a wizard and told him of our plight
he said i can help you and put your problems right
then he cast a spell and there troubles went away
now they live so happily every single day

Who could have known
Or ever proposed
That Kansas farm girl
Would land back in Oz

Who could have guessed
All this no less
From that moment on
Would be such a mess

All because Dorthy
Went High Royalty
Ever since those ruby reds
She's had a need for the bling

Now she likes to buy
Everything in her sight
With Munchkins for servants
Who serve her outright

Then came the day
She ran out of dough
And the Lollipop Guild
Mentioned the road

Where few have been told
And even less know
That the Yellow Brick Road
Is really made out of gold

That's the happiest she's been
Since she arrived
As the shimmer and glimmer
Cha-Chinged in her eyes

She called her three friends
Clueing  them in
The Lion, the Scarecrow
And of course the Tin Man

As a matter of fact
Tin Man bring your ax
I have just the job
For you to get down with that

That's now where we are
I am sad to report
The Yellow Brick Road
Is now nothing but dirt

But sweet Dorthy dear
Has plenty of stuff
Though she still has her eyes
On the emeralds of Oz

Goblins, ghosts, faeries, friends and foes
Witches, werewolves, warlocks, and even the crows
Vampires, skeletons, and angry jack-o-lanterns
Makes Halloween a treasure for all little patrons

We dress up in costumes and sheets
Then we do wander the city corridors and streets
Knocking on people's doors
Tens, no hundreds, of kids by the scores

Calling out, trick or treat
Just to get something sweet
Happy Halloween
Is such a perfect holiday scene

Vibrant kids, both young and old
Bravely enduring the freezing cold
Just to keep this custom alive
Hopefully it will endure and thrive

Pillowcases filled with candy galore
The older kids desire even more
But for me this Halloween night
Gives me pure pleasure at the very sight

Of spooky hobgoblins running here and there
Smaller children being led by their parents with care
Halloween definitely is a fun filled night
Costumes of all types fall within my sight

Young girls dressed up as Jasmine
Some of those kids are probably mine
Here comes my GI Joe
His successful ventures this night surely do show

A ***** alley filled with eerie sounds
Double mirrors, chainsaws, and scary clowns
Rabied hounds which chase us down the maze
Is something everyone craves

This is why Halloween is a special treat in the fall
But the most important of all
Is the joy of seeing all these little munchkins
Who have dressed up as pumpkins

Though I am now too old to don a cap
For Halloween treats, I'm still a sap
I see a familiar figure striding up the street, in his cowboy costume
Luckily none of them ever rode home upon a magical broom.

So this Halloween night
When everyone looks a fright
Be happy, cheerful, and alert
As each child their hands do insert

Into my candy filled cauldron
I sure have their complete attention
Me hopes they don't see the heavy, woven net
That will swoop down and capture you, my little pets

I'll take these children, yes, each one of them
And fill them with candy and cookie crumbs
Then send them home all fat and sassy
This Halloween night has been fantastically, classy

Written by:
Jason Cheney
October 2021

i dreamed i was in oz so very far away
watching all the munchkins as they began to play
then i saw a straw man and a tin man to
followed by a lion beneath the sky so blue.

walking on a road yellow and so bright
dancing as they went filled with such delight
searching for a wizard to tell him of there plight
he lived in a castle so big and very white.

they say he granted wishes to anyone in need
that he was very kind very kind in deed
strawman needed brains to be clever as can be
lion needed courage to be coward free
tin man needed heart to be human too
then he could fall in love like the humans do.

they got to the castle big and very white
then heard the wizards voice it gave them such a fright
they told him of there wishes to see what he could do
wizard said dont worry ill grant your wish for you.

they were very happy there dreams had all come true
strawman had is brain now he felt brand new
tinman had his heart just like humans do
lion had his courage and was braver too

this what i dreamed a fairy tale come true
with an happy end just like the stories do

happenstance collided, coincided, coagulated, et cetera
with hormonally graphic, dumbfounded circumstance
hence, only by a fluke did I manage
to worm winning trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
vowing confidence
as a confidante sans this generic guy,

would never breach insidious, impious,
illustriously scandalous
tidbits, into a an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the motley crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed
sound (cloud) proof coed bunker,

though escapades emanated noise asper a clunker
subsequently followed by wail of “just dunk her,”
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby queer
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,

whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendents,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, andhandily did ap pear

and despite one hundred percent bug free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz

any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),

and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert,
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick

got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave orgiastic party
with orgamsic oohs and aahs
***, drugs and rock and roll,

that a band aided elf(ves)
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged
***** and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,

when alias Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting *******
code named Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally
besmirching her virginity

via ****** cavorting
amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied
with feverish boogie woogie flu

which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky gangnum style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and *** offenders if not worse.

I’m not sure how I got up here and I’m kind of scared to try and get down. I’m all alone in this castle and it’s kind of hard not to frown. I try to smile, and make the best of every day. But my mother, my father, and siblings are just so far away. They probably think I am dead. Which I don’t blame them, for I’ve said, I may as well be gone, even though I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong.

“Little bird, little bird, help me fly away. I really don’t want to be here, I don’t want to stay, stuck in here for the rest of my life. I want to find a prince and be a wife! Oh, and have little munchkins running around the kingdom. If only I wasn’t the evil witch’s victim.

Half moon high
In a deepening sky
The clouds like spider cotton,
Like blue ivory husks betwixt
Umber grey misty fog,
The diablerie of dusk
Dark sky and stars

The streets flooded,
a river of headlights, flashlights,
Sidewalks’ pedestrian traffic,
An Armada of munchkins, crowds
Strolling by Chinatown’s
Crisp neon plazas,
A necropolis bright with
Cartoon sharp signage
Accessorizing restaurants with
Jade And gold, foot spas
And red doors…
Horrors of hangings
Roast ducks and pigs decapitated…

Yet the evening is dressed finely still
All eyes lurking
Shadows floating by
Not to be forgotten tonight
Dias de las Muertos
En espanol…

While down the road
Neighborhood way
Skitters Lilliputian creatures
In shells of Saver’s costumes
As squeals of laughter festoons
Boulevard life with
Tiny tintinnabulations
Like baby rattlers
Against the dark
(Maracas for chupacabras)

Timorous parent folk
Encouragement as company,
They Scurry past
Down dim spatial street
In demand of what is given freely
From each and every door
Treat and sweets
Caries galore
All their tricks cached in grins
Of baby teeth
turn candy corn…

Mischievously the meek milk
All Hallows' Eve For
Hallowed be the glee
Even tho' beneath
The web of grey cloudy sky
Life is precious
To deny
The thirsty as it rains

Misery’s loss deep dismal graves,
We should live in celebration
Childlike everyday
Sing and dance
In the October rain
In this wonder
Like rattlers against the dark

Far from wastes of
Hollow wind and pain,
Chilling cries, bleeding eyes,
Undead the unseen
From this cirque city of sins
Offsprings on the strip
Fearless on the boulevard
Treating & tricking
With ole candied lies…

All done up in bright disguise
Happy Halloween.

Not because it's
the land of Oz
or Toto
wants to go,
but I need to sleep
while the Munchkins meet
the Lion, the witch and
the tin man,
ha
bet you thought
I was going to say
wardrobe.

I got swept up by a tornado and landed in the Land of Oz where I met the munchkins after accidentally killing the Wicked Witch of the East

Then Glinda Told me to go to Emerald City after giving me magical shoes so I can get home

And on the way I met a scarecrow who needed a brain and a tin man who needed a heart along with a cowardly lion who needed courage

And after meeting the wizard he sent us on a mission to steal The broom from the Wicked Witch of the West

And when we got in trouble I threw a bucket of water on her to save us from her wickedness and she begins to melt then we took the broom to The Wizard of Oz who happen to not be a wizard at all but really just a man with many tricks up his sleeves But he managed to keep his promises as I click my magic heels together I'm back in Kansas once more Poem By Shelby Kathleen Nightingale

follow the yellow brick road
for it is the path less taken
for it is the path expected to be taken

prostrate and prone
accept our office and entreaties
bless this feeble scarecrow with a mind
bestow upon this rusted tin man a heart
inspire courage in the soul of this cowardly lion

take this wretched runaway home
for i am tired, great wizard
i am tired of running
and forever being protected
from that which i want most

censor my memories
in poppy reveries
i wish to sleep a little longer
if it means not having to cope
with the reality of my disillusion

knuckles cracked and bleeding
from the cold
i am the lone spectator
unwanted, unneeded
they only notice you're gone
if the spotlight shines without
a silhouette of a star

chittering and smiling and
shuffling and laughing
an orchestra's grandeur:
the urgent bowstroke of a violinist
the whimsical striking of chimes
the hollow plea of a clarinet
conceal my uneasy
temperament

observing from afar
like a scarecrow who cannot scare
a lame tin man who cannot love
a pathetic lion who cannot rule
this is not my diem to carpe

i live vicariously
through my simian anxieties
a birdseye view from
the abyss of hell
somewhere over
the rainbow

a silly girl playing make-believe
castles and witches and enchanted forests
nothing more

my noose will be braided of
the whims of my childhood

******* munchkins never
needed dorothy anyways

even he who dwells
in the city of emeralds
is but a man,
and like all men:
vulnerable, and at least
once having felt the desire
the prerogative
to not
exist