freedumb Poetry (50)

and i MEAN THAT DEVOUTLY it's just most of your e-mails are like telling me stuph i've long ago lost intest in....such as if i use a word out of context, despite the fact that i did it purposelly....i just want people to wake up and think about Jesus, whether or not He was The Son Of Man i do not know, but I can say with surety that a man named Jesus of Nazareth walked this earth....now think about what a world this would be if everyone lived as He proscribed. I wouldn't be an arrogant moron, the first Bush didn't want war, no babies are ever killed, sexually mutilated and thown into the nearest dumpster. Methinks my Lord and Savior would frown upon what we are doing to this planet whereupon lobbyists in Wash.D.C.take $ to produce medications he wouldn't give his family because one of the side effects may be that you WILL DIE!

THEY SAID REPENT AND I WONDERED WHAT THEY MEANT

I revel in close calls
And that which I do takes balls
I’m comfortable hanging by a thread
While I eliminate the thought of my being dead

I swim through rough waters against the tide
And just keep repeating “Satan is on my side”
One must be aware of what turning a corner may bring
Because I look at life as if it is simply a fling

Each day is a joke and I am its punch line
And I don’t advise anyone to live a life like mine
It’s frightening and fearful and every day I fret
I worry about those I will meet and those I have met

I’m a man who lives with close calls and has balls
As I wander through lengthy and eerily dark halls
There’s always the haunting sound of someone turning a knob
And that’s what makes being an addict such a difficult job
© 2011.…~free cee!~

three people read my poem a day
shit that's three more than none
WELCOME TO MY NEW HOME

Welcome here you all
And my, you got so tall
Mom, your hair looks great
As usual dad is late

Latently late on such a day
He hasn’t seen me since I went away
Dad’s hip hurts and his hair is turning gray
But the game of my being ever wrong he’ll still play

Mom, how’s Aunt Sally and Uncle Joe
I know both of them move very slow
Their son Derrick comes to visit when he’s able
And he brings along his girlfriend named Mable

So tell me is the house in good shape?
And how about that lovely landscape?
I always loved that 300 year old oak
And when I was a child I believed that tree and me spoke

So Derrick, you knew the tree with wisdom one learns not in school?
It said “Sometimes one must but it’s better never to break a rule
But I wouldn’t listen to the old oak tree whenever it spoke to me
And that’s why I’m behind bars for twenty to thirty-three
© 2011.…~free cee!

ALL I REALLY YEARN TO DO IS RING A BELL LOUD ENOUGH SO AS TO YANK READERS BY THERE THROAT AND DO NOT LET GO UNTIL HE FEELS YOU, THE WAY I FEEL ENGLAND!

A BRIDE AND A DOOM

I know that’s what she wants me to be
But that’s just not me
As I stood on an oak floored alter
All of my friends certain I would faultier
But no one should ever fault her
The poor little lady was made so weak
while all the while I wanted her to speak
Tell me what bills are due
tell me what’s new
But especially explain to me how the blind man knew

I must get betrothed for a lot of money I owe
So this, to me, was something I had to do, that I know
Because Big Black Bruce is a dude you don’t want to owe money to
So I pretty much was being made to vomit out “I do”
Bruce told me that he wasn’t going to kill me with a knife or a gun
He would just make me wish he had used one
And let me tell you I was in $1,950 deep
Because 80 percent pure heroin in new york city wasn’t cheap

So there stood she,
My bride to be
With a countenance that counts
And nerves of steel for when trouble mounts
My only thought was fight, flight or flee
Because she was marrying a very “ not me”
Yet she always accepts everything I’ve ever done
So what do you do when your flesh tells you to run?
But look out in the pews
Women wearing their fanciest shoes
They all came to party after the “I do’s”
Yet and still a small voice couldn’t summon my words I refuse
But could I stay united with someone who had married a fake?
And be forgiven for every errant action I ever make

How long would our hiding place still be that lovely little lake
And as for me I feel as if I’m making a cataclysmic mistake
What with all the vows I am about to make and breach
Shit, I remember Belize with another lovely on a secluded beach
holding the girl with golden hair and tickleings the sand
And just at the right time she took my hand
Or perhaps I’m wrong and it wasn’t Belize it was a floral field
While I’m afraid my secret will be revealed
Oh so very pretty in all puffy and fluffy white
But suddenly I realized I was definitely right’
So I grabbed my best man and we didn’t drive……… we flew
And I still wonder how that blind man knew
© 2011.…free cee!







A BRIDE AND A DOOM

THAT'S NOT THE TITLE OF THIS POEM I WROTE A POEM THIS MORNING AND POSTED IT AT TEN A.M. MAYBE IF YOU SEE HOW MANY PEOPLE VIEWED MY POEMS, THE AMOUNT AS OF 3p.m.e.s.t 431 PEOPLE SOAKED IN MY LIFE,
MY VIEWS ON LIFE, AND MY VIEWS ON PEOPLE LIKE MOST OF YOU WHO BURY MY POEMS BECAUSE YOU'RE GIRLFRIEND MIGHT SEE IT AND SAY "DAMN IT YOU FOOL, WHY CAN'T YOU WRITE POETRY LIKE free...AND I'LL BET MARRIAGES ARE BEING BROKEN UP AS..OH NO...I DID THAT FOUR TIMES ON A.O.L. AND THAT AIN'T NO LIE BECAUSE I NEEDED TO CALL MY LAWYER I FIND OUT WHAT
A CO-RESPONDENT IS...I KNOW WHAT A CORRESPONDENT IS BUT I NEEDED HIM TO TELL ME THAT THIS IS THE FOURTH MARRIAGE IN 11 YEARS YOU'VE BROKEN UP--HEY, TELL THESE DUDES TO SLEEP IN THE SAME THE HEVENTIES

THE HEAVENTIES

This man had a plan, man
Yet I never considered the bridge the seventies would be made to span, man
Either everything I dreamed of would die and turn unto dust
Or the universe would agree with the topic we two had discussed
The universe and I agreed that I owned the seventies until they end
And that was my right even the universe would defend
I wasn’t so much a rebel as I was a letch lost in the woods
But back in the seventies you could always find me in the wrong neighborhoods
If it was of an urgent matter that you needed I’d make time for you
And I was the man to see if you wanted something illicit to do
I owned midnight, noon, and I owned the music and the moon
And the dances people did were always to my tune
Then, when the sun would wave its way away
I realized there was now one less day
One less day that I owned the seventies and all it comprised
But I would never be bought and the seventies wouldn’t be compromised
It felt beneficial to awake and know you owned today
Yet comprehend that the inevitable will eventually turn my hair gray
And then came New Year’s Eve to welcome in a new year
Alas I was the only one to shed a sorrowful tear
Because what I did when I owned the seventies will send me to Hades
But I remember a tender ten years until the seventies gave way to the eighties
© 2011...this could only have been written by a poetic prince
~free cee!~
GOD DAMN I AM SO GOOD I WANT MY OWN AUTOGRAPH FOR THE FUTURE!
IF YOU ALL HAD BEEN MORE RECEPTIVE TO MY POETRY I MAY NOT HAVE BEEN AS BELIGERENT AS I AM TODAY.....COME TO THINK OF IT I MAY HAVE, AFTER READING THE LOVE NOTES SENT ACROSS THE 7TH GRADE ENGLISH CLASS
YOU PEOPLE BABBLE ON ABOUT! PEACE AND LOVE TO ALL OF YOU...ANYONE REMEMBER PEACE AND LOVE...I DON'T TAKE A DENIM JACET OFF ON WHICH I MADE PEACE SIGN IN THE FOUR QUADRANTS IT SAYS FREE/DUMB/PEACE/LOVE....WAKE UP PEOPLE INSTEAD OF WISHING YOUU WERE ME LEARN FROM ME i'll help if help will help
yours in sarcastic sincerity,
(c) 2011 ~free cee!~

something out of the ordinary
something unexpected
something i've never done before
something that at the end of the day i could say
hey, that was an exhilerating feeling
doing something out of character for me
i'd like something for someone else to come true
i'd like something wonderful to reach the heart of someone who fully deserves it
i'd like to buy a couple a wondrous dinner and be the waiter to serve it
i'd like to see someone smile at a stranger and I'd hope a stranger's
grin would turn into more
until they're kissing good night at her door
i'd like to do something for someone whose heart is in the same place as mine
i'd like to make a new aquaintance shine
i'd like to walk a mile, sit down by a lake and drink raggae champagne
i'd like to say to someone, "oh, i'm sorry, the raggae champagne made a stain"
i'd like to help eradicate the stain
and if they feel the need i would try to rid them of their pain
i'd like to help someone i don't know with their stress and strain
i'd like something blatantly extravagant to occur
like finding her
a woman un-like so many others who've asked for gems, luxury and floor length fur
i'd like to find someone to make me completely, un-mitigatingly, startling and unexpectedly feel at ease
to forget for a while the threat and debts of my enemies
i'd really like someone remarkably new
Without my being presumptuous,
could that lady be you?
(c) 2011.....~free cee!~

i don't know about you
but as for me
i do a whole lot of talking to me
while all alone
alone but for the drone of dreary drums
as an aria arises from rows of reverent conundrums
and a symphony of sounds from such sorrow to which sadness succumbs
as my mind stoops over in order to pick up bits of my conscience crumb by crumb
i spend an inordinate amount of my life thinking about my lot in life
a thread, a thimble, a thorn, and a thin slice of tomorrow
a bed, being nimble, a horn and the petulance of sorrow
but what about the seeds as yet un-sewn?
and all of the needs the needy need that as yet remains unknown?
but at last, sans any roots, yet and still i am a tree well grown

grown of grenery and not by any means human bone
and is there a precise measurement for when a pebble becomes a stone
and a stone to a bolder
i mean did anyone ever space the weight between the two and put it in some folder
to be reviewed when he gets a bit older
i suppose, if given a choice i'd opt not to be a boulder but just a little bit bigger than a pebble sized stone
but just becaue i were only a pebble i still need my cell-phone
unless i don't like the boulder's voice and tone
and yes, i am and remain all alone
consecrated by convicts
a pacifist who cares not for conflicts
but right now i'm off to bed
to rid the ridiculous out of my un-quiet head
while beyond the white picket fences
Mrs. Delano sits as Mr. Delano comes up with one of his inane defences
so good night, and i pray the Lord my sanity to take
as Mr. Delano agrees there are too many leaves and tomorrowhe must rake
but if God doesn't rob me of my wits this slumber
and God knows that boulder must have my cell-phone number
then unfortunately when i awake i should be only semi-insane
and to make it perfectly plain
i'd prefer if i were in an instition for the totally insane
they won't even bother taking an M.R.I. of my brain
at least then guiltiness wouldn't be weaving its way into my medula-oblongata
oh, and I asked Jose the gardener if he had any money to pay a debt to me and he said
"nada"
but he commented that his economic status is because his hot wife buys a shit load of products by Prada
and for some reason he asked what was inside my head and the truth was, in my mind was also "nada"

you know.....rubbing me the wrong way ain't right
now damn it........good night
and by the way, if a grub is crawling on a tree but doing it incorrectly wouldn't that mean he was grubbing the tree the wrong way?
see, i can't keep a flood of inane thoughts such as that one at bay
so please, lash out the bright
and just say "good night"
(c) 2011.....~free cee!~

wouldst thou believe that which others declare as prophecy?
wouldst thine ears perceive that which others consider accuracy?
wouldst thine eyes open wide enough
to view what I consider reality?
must thou pierce his image
only to find The Son Of Man to be but a ghost declared?
then allow the great Shepheard and thou to be paired?

some swear Him God's most sovereign and righteous son
bearing so much anger they drop their Bible and pick up a gun
but He would rather thou layest down the sword
then for His name be the catalyst for damnable discord.......

upon a mount His sermon was thusly spoken
delivered to lepers and assorted souls all broken
His voice was heard by the righteous ones
and today woulst pray all enemies lay down their guns

so having pierced His flesh with thou finger such as a probe
I ask you now, wouldst then you bow before His righteous robe?
(c) 2011....~free cee!~

WHAT FINALLY BROUGHT A BOY JOY

There stands thee with a secret in your locket
and a man’s phone number in your pocket
You’re too pretty for descriptive and alliterative ‘English phrases
And I wonder , do you go through men like phases?

One day he’s in fashion the next day a fad
And you don’t suffer well men who make you mad
Part of you I’d worship, the other half teach
As you had a goal for years you simply had to reach

And quite honestly I admire that as quite a great deal
Always knowing how to touch then learning how to feel
Because somewhere in the center of an adolescent was desire
But how to tell mom and dad , because it’s not like her to be a liar

So she awaited for the time to be precisely right
And when all the obstacles were no longer in sight
The lady began jumping hurdles and vaulting them all
And so many men in line begging her to call

I can’t imagine the heart rendering kind of pain
While I would watch as the moon would wax and wane
The lovely as a young boy wishing he could wear Barbra’s dress
And then someone might ask if he wants to confess

Yes, you’ll confess, you’ll admit you beat them all
After all, they weren’t the ones so many men yearned to call
So now sit’s a gorgeous woman and a lady refined
But at age ten what must have been going through a young BOY’S mind ?
© 2011.…~free cee!~ ’

I HOPE YOU PEOPLE ARE PAYING ATTENTION TO HOW A GREAT POET, SUCH AS I, KEEPS THE PEOPLE'S ATTENTION, BECAUSE OFTEN WHEN I CAN'T GO TO SLEEP I LOG ON TO THIS PAGE AND THE BOREDOM OF MOST OF THE POEMS LULLS ME GENTLY TO SLEEP

TWO OF THIS BUT ONLY ONE OF THOSE

Four white wall tires and one white whale
One tuxedo and a ripped and ragged sail
Four cops, and one criminal in jail
A hundred bucks in my pocket but it’s two hundred for bail

A pair of doves and peace declared from above
A hundred eighty pushes but only one shove
Some salt on the table but assault is a whole different thing
Three thousand copper bracelets but only one real diamond ring

Steal a bit of time and steal that one real diamond ring
White picket fences and a fence that will buy almost anything
One cerulean blue sky beset by a single cloud
One silent prayer but ten million said aloud

Let me take you to wherein oppression ends
Ain’t no such place in a world of a hundred enemies and only two friends
Oppression leads to depression and depression leads to death
Now breathe deeply for the doctor and take your last sacred breath
© 2011.…~free cee!~
POETS CAN ONLY BE DECLARED POETS WHEN POETRY IS THEIR MAIN CONCERN, AND NOT JUST TO TAKE UP THE LONELY SPACES OF TIME BUT TO TRY AND MAKE YOURELF MORE PLEASANT---AIN'T NO CHANCE OF THAT HAPPENING, CUZ U AIN'T FORGIVING AND YOU AIN'T A POET....BUT THEN AGAIN, WHAT WOULD MAKE ME THINK I AM AWARE AWARE AWARE AWARE AWARE OG ANYTHING....YOURS IN BORDOM, BELEAGUERMENT AND BEASTS THAT EAT ONE'S BRAINS OUT, GOING FROM THE MADULLA OBLONGATA TO ~~free cee!~

AWARE DOESN'T MEAN I CARE
so it's like i'm hanging out at a bar one night
and I met Nadine under the neon light
we had a very nice conversation and i thought being friends was alright
but she had another agenda so as to hide from the bright

oh yes, says she, and commands with such conviction
and then her leaving without saying goodbye made fiction non-fiction
because i thought she and me might be friends the way it was meant to be
her to ease the pain of losing the closest one to me
and i to help her when help be her plea

but you see one must see past the flaws of an ex-friend
except when they're not willing to flex or to bend
one day I thought we were friends the next i was grieving
because that's what i aways do when a friend doesn't say she's leaving
(c) 2011 (as if this has to copywritten, it's only to one unforgiving, oblivious and heartless soul who found a way to have a falling out for a reason sshe caused in the first place.....twice.....poets are supposed to have soul enough to say "hey, i did make it seem like we were friends and then took off without a word, maybe he had a reason to feel abandoned, betrayed and all by someone who wanted his help as well...maybe it's easier to say "I enjoy living alone" than iit is easier than to say, "i wish i had someone to live the rest of my life with, but maybe I keep
making the same damned mistake. some people never become AWARE!
~free!~

the air was sticky and smoggy that night on a Harlem highrise
the only thing that was different was a young kid with bue eyes
he was a youth in search of a peace not found at home
and so the boy with blue eyes was begotten then to roam

he wandered into a world of darkness to seek and to search
having long ago been abandoned by both school and the church
neither education nor religion could comfort him so he took to the road
heading far from the comfort of his family's hearth and abode

so there stared blazingly blue eyes on a rooftop's domain
talking to a black man who could ease the boy's pain
thirty bucks and a handshake would send him on his way
and so he returned to that rooftop every damnable day

long island had raised him but that island wasn't long enough
and middle class madness would leave him with sorrow to rebuf
day after day he'd climb those stairs whereupon the two would meet
a tall black man and a young boy with blue eyes just trying to be discreet

darkness sold his wares by the dollar and the bag
the boy with blue eyes thinking about his toe with a tag
because in Harlem death is an indeterminate threat
and a young boy with blue eyes had better pay every debt

sometimes the air was thinner with a cold winter's night weather
yet and still they dared danger while huddling close together
Harlem had been his tutor and that rooftop his incubator
and here sit i with blue eyes and a habit sixteen long years later
(c) 2011.....free cee!

NEW BIOGRAPHY
I JUST WANTED TO SEE
IF YOU KNEW THAT SINCE YOU DON'T KNOW ME
DON'T ASK ME WHAT
BECAUSE YOU DON'T REALLY KNOW SQUAT
COME ON GIRL...ALL U HAVE TO SAY
IS PLEASE GO AWAY
BUT REMEMBER PLEASE I WAS THE ONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW
I DIDN'T KNOW YOU'D LEFT AND WHERE YOU WOULD GO
YOU MAY SAY THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUISINESS ANYWAY
BUT ONE WHO ENJOYS ONE'S WIT AND HER STYLE
IT JUST MAKES ME THINK AND WONDER AWHILE
SO BAN ME FROM YOUR WORDS AND ANYTHING I KNOW
AND A REAL FRIEND WOULD HAVE TOLD ANOTHER REAL FRIEND WHEN SHE'D GO
~F!~