Work Flow

Its hard to write your thoughts down in a concurrent manner. But by writing thoughts I've determined that sections of an idea are the easy part, developing them into something a reader could enjoy is the hard part.

To me......
Thoughts have to go through my brain like a work flow; often rewritten hundreds of times until the misplaced statement becomes organizes and flow is established.

While I can write decent ideas, combining them into a readable entity is a totally different animal. The spontaneous brain determines how a story can flow or zig-zag around.  Simply "going for it" hardly ever works for me,  its best If I write some ideas "first down", and then toss them around into a work flow.


                "Words have a lot of power when written correctly and agreed upon by all."

The Wondering Crack Head

"I'm Crigity Crack",
yelled the hack,
He smokes the smack,out back,

"Yuns fellas all yackity yak,
till the day is black",
He's still holdin his hurricanes in the sack,

Now Mr. Crigidy lives in an ally,
And gets kind on rowdy,
When he sees "outsiders",

"What you lookin at you googly eye fool?"
He hates it when outsiders drool.
There shock and awe,
Created this cesspool,

But taking advantage of their befuddled state,
Mr Crigity looks on with his eyes filled with hate,
Reaching for his tin,
He shouts,

"There’s only one rule",
swinging his arm like he's attempting to duel,
"Dolla, Dolla, d...DOLLAR BILLS YALL"

Frightened for there lives,
The men run away with their wives,

Their footsteps echoed,
A rhythmic beat,
For Crigidy Cracks,
Rapping feat,

"Bj's for my baby doll,,
Don't go running,
Down,
my hall,
Unless you want to have a ball",

Hour upon hour,
Mr Crigidy continues to yell,
damning everyone to hell,

And sometime after the the sun set,
He collapses where he stood,
Spent,
And his mind content,

He glanced down at his hurricanes,
"I brought this on myself, you stupid old fool" he thought,

But his dreams of fame,
Did not falter,
Until he looked into his cardboard box,
And was filled

with shame,

The Lost Weekends

Our weekends,
wrap around,
decaying molecules,
until there is nothing left.

Should we report the theft?

Can you spare a glass of water?

An Ocean
In the oceans,
There are meadows,
Where the children play,
and drink laxatives,

But they don't need,
any diapers,
cuz nature wipes away,
their crap.


Red Dot
A storms a brewin,
out on the horizon,
the seas be chopin,
to that jazzy rhythm,

dont chum no water,
when the sharks a floatin,
out on this desolate,
ocean.

Its half past ten,
on the eastern seaboard,
that news be playin,
till eleven o'clock,

crash boom bam pop,
show us that red dot,
of a possible,
plane crash.

Hello, Hello, Hello

I can see,
The world on TV,
For bigger then it appears to be,

But without the danger,
I meet no strangers,
or friendly faces all the same,

I jump to action,
at a sound contraction,
burning the couch with gasoline,

For world is small,
why not have a ball,
with strangers and friendly faces,
the same.

The cost of life

I choose life over death,
at any cost,
cuz one things for certain,
I am here.

Blind

If I had to choose,
    which sense to loose,
          It would have to be,
     The right to see,

A first impression,
       Is a decision,
            A predetermined rendition,
of the a past visualization,

As pleasant as it sounds,

The person you meet,
           might not be as sweet,
       as they appear to be,

Because if I was blind,
You might be able to sneak up
                                       from behind,

But I would not be fooled,
           By your mask.

The Garden

If you plant,
enough seeds,
eventually,
something will grow,

Somewhere,
Anywhere,
Everywhere,
A seed has an opportunity,

But to better your chances,
Add,
Water, light, and soil,

Now don't fret,
when your seeds,
turn out to be weeds,

Because at least you now know,
That something can grow.

Fragment

I am a fragment,
Of an imagination,

Because when I think,
It flows,
Only in sections,

Wrapping my ideas,
Together however,

Must be siphoned,
And filtered.
Before they are devoured.

Photo

My face is known
     throughout the land,
So I hide in my home
     and come up with a plan,

A clever disguise,
                     the paparazzi demise,

I'll just let time take over,
to allow my beard to grow over,

ecaf siht.

But shut up in my home,

            I realize,

There is time to burn,
           So I lay on my couch,
awaiting for the days to turn,

Glancing at my window pane,
                  A sense of dispare remains,

I leap and close,
         all the windows,
                 before it rains.

I race all around the house,
           but not before,
    I saw the man,

snap snap snip-bitty snap snap,
         his camera went 
like the sound of a register,
              going haywire,

and that was when,
           I closed the blind,
      but not before,
             the seizure hit me from behind,

The carpets soft,
     but absorbs my convulsions,


   I hope he got his moneys worth.

On Empty

I was too naive to see,
that my gas tank,
was on

E,

When my car died,
            on the side,
     of the road,

But the real panic struck,
      when i was caught in the muck,
Directly in the path,
         of a semi-truck,

Clickity
    click
     click clack.

beep
    boop
      boop boop,

Clickity
        click
         click clack,

beep
       boop
         boop boop,

Clickity
click click,

booooooooom..

A Perfect Ending

Everyday when I come back home,
          Is a day that I'll spend with you,
For those moments away,

Can't make a hell of a day,
               Unless it ends with you.