Gift to The CreatureWith a name such as Creature,
Or something as;
It Came From the Drive In,
Horror comes to mind,
It’s only a name and a title.
For in further look,
He’s a critic,
Looking for those small details,
Or larger ones only found in,
Entertainment . . .
From going to oldies in looking back,
Or what is going on today,
He never disappoints.
Just the broken mirror error of sight,
Before knowing . . .
The Creature is peaceful in form,
But his reviews are another,
Yet to fear if the goal in mind,
Warms him greatly or ice’s him,
Is another game in thought?
Really it is.
A good friend he’s become,
Level-headed at best,
Witty when needed.
Who lives in the drive-in movies delight . . .
Means no harm and wishes,
For all to listen to his words . . .
In the end,
It’s not much to ask for,
In the long run . . .
I very glad I didn’t miss out on his words,
Others might not see it,
For they may only being looking at,
What is there upon,
RANT: Reaching a PointIt becomes as it sounds,
Where you’re reaching a point,
On becoming that to see what is before one’s eyes,
If it is worth the time or not . . .
In a case like this,
Oh yes there were times that it was fine,
It was all but nothing to walk away.
Wonder of how time goes,
In few lucky moments,
It’s short and engaging as spreading sea salt,
Over an open flesh wound,
And silence never leaves one throat.
Maybe in time the wound will heal,
And a joyful face will grace upon oneself,
But now a face of confusion is all there really is.
To see what eyes have come upon,
Undoing will never happen,
For it’s there,
Hollow in the easiest way of saying it,
Worth a moment,
Differs for those unknown of what’s to come.
But as again,
It’s reaching a point,
To really care anymore,
Lacking any care is now,
Moving on is the next move.
Be done now,
And let it die,
As a slow but soon healing,
Scar fading in era.
Paint a Picture No. 29In far of the distance, just outside in the world, that is beyond one’s home. As the windows slowly opened upon the hours of darkness’s chill, a lone strip of sky is enough to see, but the wonders of what eyes wished to see, must step out farther than ever-so before.
In a rush to know the understanding, one eye’s would leave, the house’s warmth, and into the yard for a look of the atmosphere at a much better explore.
Neither at first nothing, lone rays of even moonlit blinds the air, thinning what is left, neither but nor far in shortening time. Just best of by, of the evergreen tree’s tip, planted years ago for it was to sign that of one’s growth; a joke it was but now, worth it for what it can give.
A whip; smooth and wide, of a passing winter cloud, cascaded; as a growing scar: leaving the night to blacken more as spilled ink. Hours it would feel, as the winter has taken a small toll on bumping one’s skin, but the wait is sure to be worth it
Gift to Jockerlee77He’s a writer,
He’s a speaker,
He’s both with a soul.
Problems roll along with him,
Life changing in some ways,
But it doesn’t come close,
In stopping to form words,
For all to hear and read!
Simple as he is,
His work goes afar that.
Like all else,
We want to be heard,
But stop midway,
With fear that no one will hear,
Don’t give a fall of doubt to follow others.
For he falls into a new path,
Doing what makes all come together.
And in a world like this,
Fear of what can’t in control,
Should never define one,
Take in case of that,
And do what could happen . . .
In the matters of wills,
To that is what in,
That large plays of consciousness and compassion,
That is Jokcerlee77.
Smart Ass: Takes Smart and Ass Working TogetherCome little into the night,
Silent is something is weak and unneeded,
Loudness is the only way to handle oneself.
Little to none,
But that is soon,
Compare what is so soon,
But not at all!
Silent means weakness,
But to that wellness grows in time,
Hyper fact yet not . . .
What has comes in minds,
Would leave some wondering,
Who is sane and not.
But level all one wants to know,
But not at all!
Human mind becomes so small,
Yet larger than one’s space world!
Take notice of something,
Shelter life comes nothing,
But means tiny thoughts of another,
Be that so.
Is where it ends . . .
Come on soon,
The mind may grow or shrink,
Relies on the owner!
Who are you?
A thinker or a floater,
Come with an answer and be human.
Or something more,
That’s all could ask for.
Be a smart ass,
If you want,
But it takes to be smart and a ass,
Getting my drift,
Oh wise reader?
Thy One Fear Is . . . (No. 3)I won’t get them, I will never get them.
Nothing on this planet will prove me otherwise.
Intake goes into the body as needed, not for control of the unknown.
There will be one room that is just a room, not a life saver.
I won’t change.
Nor my life outside or inside.
Sight will stay the same, my body will even out, and organs will function as they do.
Sweetness will not be my down fall, to whatever form it takes, will never near me.
They it’s a lifelong road once it starts.
Not to me, not ever.
I will fight it; change my lifestyle by all means for it to never happen.
No one will look at different if so to happen.
No needle to stall it . . . for it only does so much.
I wouldn’t get it.
Never in this life time!
It’s a brand of direct I just couldn’t handle.
Gift to TimeParadoxEvery moment to hear this name,
Reminds of things that opens gates,
Within a paradox,
There is coming a time,
That combines fun stops,
Enough to enjoy what it is,
A paradox that comes in time . . .
That is where these come from,
Small doses from who carries,
On the fun,
Not as crash course as others,
But when does so,
It is worth it.
TimeParadox does it,
With a heart that be like the TARDIS,
Not what you think it is,
Until you step inside and a whole new world,
Is there for you!
I went there,
Someone who isn’t a fan of Dr. Who,
Made a shot at it,
And said it is not as good as,
TimeParadox who catches more of a finer thing . . .
Different people have different strokes,
And he has it,
Find what he can do,
And enjoy what he gives.
Just a Little to KnowTo chances and back,
To little or more,
It has become that of what we all know.
Coming little to the truth and seeing nothing but large lies.
But what else is there in life,
As we only have one . . .
One that could make or break one soul,
Belittling all of nothing,
But be that of something,
Could only rely,
On one person.
A task will come,
To where it is begging you to fall for it,
Or take it down.
There is only one life,
Another will come and fill in that space,
Once you stop breathing,
But until that is to come,
That is your spot.
Doing this things that make people remember you,
Or be forgotten,
Simple as just someone,
Telling you drop off the face of the world,
Or be something.
But who is that person to make that last choice,
Before the last breath leaves the lungs,
If I have to say it,
Have missed the point of this.
You only live once,
Make something of it.
Long from now,
Go do it.
That’s all one could ask for
Gift to SomeJerkFromBostonKeeping it as it is,
There are just SOME moments,
We got to be honest.
Even to others,
It may be just as a rude man,
Even coming off as a honest voice,
To be others,
It may just be a JERK really,
Got to love it!
FROM one person to another,
Being reasonable is one thing,
Being just human with a smart mouth never hurt,
All one must to meet this man,
Is all way in BOSTON?
The best smartasses,
Are in the unlikely places,
This in is not one those times.