A horn right where the heart is, A horn is where we started, Beasts of a Godhead, snort, What else would they know? Seven heads, Seven hills, a woman sits, Fearing what we couldn't fix is still amiss, On top of the hill, one digests the hits, The house my father built is sticks. This calls for a mind with wisdom, Or A horn right where the heart is. For economics, For a little longer, For when they finally got it, The realization, it was violent. Then floods, then nothing. No foundation to stand on, I must found myself, found my call, But the houses my father built are gone.
Beauty, all its mystery, Maybe this is all a dream, Belief instinctively, Anger, or misery, Or is it grief within me? Imagine living, symptom-free, Imagine, breathing with relief, Instead coughing and wheezing, Sleeping with vivid dreams, While sleeping in the street. A body smeared with honey, Head to feet, conceit, Declared supreme, Yet not even complete.
To write irate, Like Ivy failed, The time it takes, Is flies to drakes. Reveal beneath the cape, water, Fantastic I can see the shape. Father should I peel the grapes? I only question the time it takes.
Coastal Landscapes, plum, and dates, Noble Magnates, all things awake, Ocean to space, Poems to plays, Stone, earth and clay. Snow, October to May, A local band still plays.
Maybe more, Male Ego, Four visits, no picnic, What makes trees grow? Speaking indignantly? Gold fillings, your visits, Lazy form English, Everyday one grows cynical, It's in the way he spoke.
A horse runs, devoid of time, A whale dives, despite depth, Vowel Rhyme, Towel, dye, Common find, Calm in mind. Triage, lies, Between fires, Flickering light. Sometimes a horse dives, Often times, In your eyes, The horse survives, In my mind, one more time.
Like a rabbit in a trap, Wiggle dance, calls, Nobody calls back. Wiggle dance, candle wax, Like man, cash advanced, Calls, nobody calls back.
Feet scurry for cheese, Hurry before reading, No need for heeding, Just release then meaning. A fella down, dread, and doubt, I prefer to be the second mouse, Rather than become death, I prefer to see it out.
#THE RIPPER# Do yourself a favour When he hurts you Do not do fit a hug My hands will be tied When he abandons you Do not seek refuge in me I would have gone abroad When he despises you Do not come for my live I would be short if feelings My heart has gone sour Bleed out cold and dead My humanity's been shut I have gone all black and grey My heart seems to be missing Emotions are long gone I have accepted grief and pain Sadness and misery now clothe mW Love's been sent out of my window When he abandons you Your face ruthlessly smashed to he ground Your arms brutally ripped apart Your body gracefully cut to pieces, but by bit When I think of you Even hope despairs Faith has its doubt Bravery now shivers Your slow and painful death Is all I await For I am the ripper. 🚫 #paulopalz# #theripper#
Truffle, my gems are gone. All bets are off. Swan, water, ruffles, Trouble underwater, The fish will balk: Death march talk becomes bubbles, They beg off, shot in the stomach, Test nothing, swim to the bottom. Lord, I spoke to God. Soft, I sodded off. Man, laughter, shuffle, Trouble in the park, People just forgotten: Talking until nonsense, Their tussles long, Of consequence and knowledge, Then replaced by logs.
Job, Free me of what happiness was, Cartier watch, Armani galliard. Can I wake to a crappy alarm, Feel apart from country laws, Contract law, writing Sir John Condescendingly at the bottom. If three is a charm, And I keep it with me, Can I wake to live somewhere, Where you see the stars in all their beauty?
Big curls, bench presses, High dives into the deep end Swim laps Gettin' down with my boys Hard drugs through the weekend I feel that Bike ride through the trees See the colours change Run flat across the bay Just to tell my maynes I'm bored, ditched lessons I'm hitting up my best friends But I'll nap first Big curls, bench presses Torn bicep and a bong rip Yo, I'm good now Skateboard through the crowds Where the streets are paved Eat shit, get scraped I can feel no pain Easin' down with my boys Slow cookin' through the weekend I feel that A bit of strings, sum tings Got damn, such a feeling To feel that
Pretty one Having fun Full of love Joy in heart Not apart Like a dove Please just stay Please just play Just stay home
Maybe Eternity is just a concept, Maybe one day everything will end, Maybe in a couple hundred years, The universe will no longer be our friend. Everything we know we knew would be over, Can you imagine that, City lights and happy memories, Will all just fade to black. It’s funny how we think we’re so powerful, Yet we’re just hanging by a thread, By physics laws that if one day brocken, We will all be dead.
‘O Romeo Romeo wherefore art thou Romeo’, The birds sing along to Juliets cries, Is it so wrong to want a Tudor love, Lived through 21st century eyes. To kill yourself to be with them, Rather than have to live alone, It truly makes you understand, The idea that a person can be a home. And though some may call this type of love shallow, I say they’re lies from a person who does not relate, The need of a love so sweet and tragic, United by fate.
To know of monsters: They grow onward, One grows tired, Any failure untoward, Monster violent in concert. Even at a bargain, Bartering culture is nonsense, Gossip is gossip, Commerce is commerce, A monster concerned, With wandering darkness', finds himself lost, At last he is honest.
A treasure full of dreams A future wrapped in gold What our indecisions bring Within each box that life will hold Hidden in the square Amongst the corrugated seams Is more than just thin air And the light from distant beams There are memories we have known Within the box that cannot part Like the flowers that have grown Just to touch a gentle heart Upon these feathers within a box I shall sleep on them tonight And to the ticking of the clock I shall dance the angel’s flight Says the label dressed in red, “Never touch what’s in the box” So many thoughts run through my head Of all the moments we have lost Michael 8/5/2021
A field, Jar tightly sealed, Stature small, teal, Familiar feelings. Tired, field mouse, Mired with doubt, Steals from the house, Who take from ploughmen, Stealing from the mouse. A car, Jetpacks to Niam, Feeling large, carmine, Looking down, similar lives, but it's my time.