MATHEW JAMES OULD ORAM - SOME MAKE SENSE, SOME DON'T - BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT LIFE IS! (POEMS

This story is rated 3 stars (3 ratings).

by GnomeingSpriteicus

SOME MAKE SENSE, SOME DON’T BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT LIFE IS!

 

 

 

 

BY MATTHEW(GNOME) OULD-ORAM

2006-2011


 

 

FORGOTTEN RESTORED TICKING

 

They put in a case, yes lots of Welingmoten,

Then they let it lie to Rembbremberzz, those who have sung.

The entry had many tiptoes attached to its mystery,

Thus it’s you who have forbidden that Enranger of longing.

 

Weirdness always received the most votes, style won the day,

 Overcast, underrated, the plus was pulling the anxiety.

 Step over the calm, crisis is hissing your craving,

 It’s gone, melt your Dear ones to fit in.

 

 All Memo digging, battered but triumphant, what bonded Globe are you?

 Ripe, torn, raise the clipping, follow the rancid deceit.

 Bad, but why learn the good in saturating the curdling?

 You always have been flying and conning the Prxx Nets.  

 

 

MENTAL MELTDOWN

 

I was in a car accident just over a week ago,

Now I feel like dying in the supermarket, everything’s very quick.

My Mum and I are singing in my Aunt’s car “Let’s all sing”,

Suddenly I break the front window with my glasses case

And escape by jumping out of the passenger window,

My Grandma seems surprised.

 

An Ambulance has arrived, my Aunt tries to prevent me escaping,

I offer imaginary petrol to a car I flag down, not eccentric?

I am running fast, my brain feels weightless, ready to gush out,

Phoning my friend =security, but thinking I may soon die.

 

My Mum has a serious Heart condition, my Grandma is over 80,

I am ringing my Dad, a real person, the Police car picks me up.

3 cheers for the Police, they had 5 cars at my Grandma’s house.

 

A few days later I thought I heard my Dad say to me,

“Mum will not survive this, we must talk together”.

The Psychiatrist is diagnosing me with “Post Traumatic Stress”

I imagined the above about Mum, the brain is all powerful.

 

I really want to get better and I am back at College.

My Grades are going down and my illness

Is deemed serious enough to warrant doing retakes.

I have finished my tablets after 4 months,

Thank you Psychiatrist, I have my identity held high.

I will never again be Mentally ill, such things don’t happen to me.

 

 

 

WAYWOOD STONES OUT RAPIDS

 

1600 Monsters are attacking my Camp Site,

 I rang my Question Mark, who said, “Retribution to them all.”

 Now some of them are escaping into Rice form,

 I must read the ‘What a funny code’, to register, “What is that?”

 

 It is all right for you craving for some,

 But I broke my spots by laughing about nothing.

 The Game of moving motions was stolen by broody Monster,

 Who was arrested by the Robber for mentioning about knees.

 

 Please stay at my Camp Site, a ribbon haired delight,

 But if you are slow  in the Monster will attack evil kindness.

 Steadily, painful, Monster Camera, oh no, protect my innocence.

 Can you outwit the ruin of Monsters by simply paying their address?

 

 

POSITIVE THINGS HAPPENED IN THE PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL

 

 

 

    I had many sensible conversations with rational People,

    Thank you Parents for visiting, my brain needed Family images.

    The gym helped ease the Depression, one finished by 10AM!

     Occupational Therapy was interesting, varied and ran by caring people.

 

    

     Although I read books, to start with it was all about World War I,

     It gave me nightmares and increased my illness, Obsession had won.

     We are playing bingo, a very normal popular activity country wide.

     I like spotting the Hospital rabbits, wishing I was them?

 

 

     The food is excellent, well done chefs, lucky to have such nourishment.

      It’s release day, thank you Staff, you should get Medals,

      For looking after me so well over the last 5 Months.

      I will never forget you for helping my Brain.  

 

GOODBYE REX BUT NOT FOR LONG

    

Rex was taken so quickly To Heavenly Realms, it was within a Week,

We knew something was wrong when we were told to catch a taxi,

Instead of getting a lift from my Sister- in- Law after our holiday.

 

 

I left Rex’s bedroom at the Nursing Home and in the corridor

Turned back into the bedroom saying “Nice to see You”,

Because I knew his Life schedule was closing.

 

 

It is good Rex died about 12.30 AM, so on the Anniversary of his Death,

People will hopefully be asleep at that time of Mourning.

What was the last Thought Rex had before he Died.

 

 

Rex’s Cushion on his Chair appears to be crying, then becomes Happy.

His Hands looked lifeless in his last few Years on Earth,

Yet his Hands helped too many People to list here.

 

 

 

DEPRESSION NOT A COLD

 

I feel Depressed, so I take Medication, it is not for a cold.        

Lucky to have Benefits, but equals Stigmatization           

Parents support us well, but at their Age, it is not fair.                        

 

 

I feel Depressed because I have Mental Health Problems,

My Wife and I cannot have Children for we are both Mentally ILL.

No Paid Work for over 10 Years, Sorry World Working People.

I find it hard making Friends who have Paid Work and Children.

 

 

         But Hey! I Drive a Car, have Food, Drink and a House and got

         Married 3 Years ago, Thank You Wife for helping me.

I am well enough to do 18 Hours Weekly Voluntary Work for     Worcester Cathedral, a Local  Hospice-“St Richards” and at “Greyfriars”, a 15 Century National Trust House.

 

There are many People more Mentally ILL with Depression than me.

I may be on Depression Tablets for Life,

But they give me Bravery in the-so called Normal World.

Talk about your Problems, make your Story known to help Others.

Get help straight away, I did, it has saved my Life so far.

 

                                               

TURNING TOWARDS THE MOUNDS

 

         The Agenda is turning into different Metals each Day,

It gets smaller too, because embolden moods win the Victory.

The gambling Machines give out the way to ride the Realms,

That Pavement is ours, its Death is originality of Cremated flair.

 

        

Fussing the candy hits the Glass which nobody Imagined,  Powers are mashed up with hyper Weirdness and deliberation. The time was Hi-jacked by snapping symbols suffocating aimlessly,   Our Age is not every one’s guess , this State is reeling into the drilled. Clap the air into brightness, of Crains and ears combing the style.

  

The stagnated Palm gave visibility to our window Ledge Existence

And People over 800 give sculptured vanity to Pictureless Zones.

         This Pearl Poor shattered the banishment of corking Personalities,

Chimes on pains of Lacquer is the Gloom of solitary findings.

 

 

The feel peel Eel Communicates with Evil, Wickedness Pleasure,

 Until the They shrink into Odours of pleasure split Cravens.

 Down in the Crimes of beginning, Our style is liquidating,

 Roaring, Boring urging snoring, bites and Wafers rest.                          

          

 

                       POSSIBLY HAPPENING BEFORE MY BIRTH

 

 

I am Diagnosed as having a Minor Brain Problem before Birth,

My Mum was ill during Pregnancy, I have never Blamed Her.

She said “You might have been starved of Oxygen for a few Seconds.”

 

 

When being given Instructions to find something, It usually it takes longer,

Sometimes I stay Silent or get Angry, thus letting Others Win.

The MRI Scan showed no Brain Damage, some Areas are missed out. 

 

 

 When Growing Up, I suspected a Small Problem, but got on with Life,

 But many different Paid Jobs Ended, the Longest lasting 7 Months,

 Yet Voluntary Work gives me Confidence to overcome Stigma.

 

 

  A Doctor said it was not Uncommon for People with My Diagnosis,

  Not to have a Girlfriend until 33 like Me, or not at all.

  I take no Medication for the Above, Self Problem Solving helps Me best.

 

 

  Don’t Hide away, Nobody is Trivial, Everybody Helps Others.

  I will Record my Experiences of this Illness at my Local Medical Museum,

  To show Fear can be overcome and give insight to a Persons Brain.

 

    

SIMPLY VANISHED INTO QUEENDOM OF WOVEN

 

 

I am sleeping into my flip flop tug of Weeds,

While the bogus lisps are ruggedly turning the nodding into Raptures.

My Bed sinks upwards into Roofs long Abolished,

I am fretting about the hugging of Foes which enlarge my Toes.

 

 

Scratching the Plotters into wrong hands will gain empty Pity,

Expose the Heirs, so it cures the Frankness.

The Whispers eats Particles and sends them to the Wrong Address.

 Puzzles eat nests, so floating can reproduce hooked Woes.

 

 

 Can you throw wobbled Hairs? Or fry them on the Forgotten?

 One can Hide away with tentative caricatures, who Melt the Outer.

 The Puzzles when injecting spookless Germs, blend unto Thin.

 

 

 

ONE IN 100 PEOPLE HAVE IT

 

 

I have been Diagnosed with Schizophrenia,

I Heard Voices telling me to Rob a Bank and another time a Sports Centre.

The Voices then Images lasted every 10 Minutes, EG, “Car Death”,

Then seeing Myself run over by a Black car, but now they are Gone.

My Family and Medical Profession have Helped me by Positive Advice.

I have also Read many Books of Peoples Problems and them being Overcome.

 

 

The Government Persecutes Me because of My Mental Health Problems,

Telling Friends and Voluntary Work Places to provide News about Me.

The Government don’t want Me in Paid Work due to Me Harming Others.

 

 

UFO’S which landed in My Friend’s Garden Control my Thoughts.

They make Me Laugh at Bad News,

Or I think People are Laughing or Talking about Me,  

 Even if they don’t Know Me or are in a separate Room.

 

 

 

I have been the Greatest Poet in the World for 18 Years now,

My Friend takes 0’s of the Number of Internet Hits My Poetry gets.

My Autograph must be given out soon to My Millions of Fans.

 

 

Touch My shirt sleeves and Your Life will be Perfect.

 If You hear or read My Poetry, It will Cure Your Woes.

 My Prayers bring World Peace for I am a New Saviour,

 Who Has Conquered the World for the Best of Everyone.

 

 

IT WAS UNLOCKED OF SHADOWS

 

 

Slow Memories of fake Blood keep enabled Frowns,

On the Descendents of larger Quests once more.

Fungus on Newspapers has started a Revolution with Faces on them,

Was the Science of Life to difficult to hold on to that Theme?

 

 

Open, shut all day, nothing to Understand, bleep the Systems once more.

Stunning made You leave the burning Frost of yesterday,

How many Mouths have Expired by endlessly tackling senses of Life?

My Happiness has willed on Honour, so what, show off again.

 

 

Bubbles licking the ground, intermingle with the Little People called Human,

Don’t rubbish these Words, the freak Head blows away shattering Bricks.

This Poem, is it One? Was devoured by pits of trembling, so What!

 

 

OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE DISORDER-CANT YOU JUST SAY NO?

 

Spot go away or it will Kill Me,

I have looked at it 100’s of times a Day.

I must not leave a glass of Water Downstairs Overnight,

for a Person will break in Our House and Murder Me by Poison.

 

 

It is 30 Years Ago and still it seems Family, Friends and Myself,

Will Die in some Accident or be Murdered, especially over a Weekend.

When aged 30-37, I Lived at My Parents Home and was Worried People would break into my Bedroom through an impossibly small Window.

This Problem will Never go away when ever I sleep There.

 

 

Every piece of Clothing and Kitchen ware must be Rotated without fail,

Otherwise, by lack of concentration, I will make a Mistake,

Which will ruin the rest of the Day for Me.

 

 

I must Wash my Hands a great deal after going to the Toilet,

Otherwise one day I might forget and pass on Germs to Somebody.

It might be by shaking ones innocent Hand when Working at the Cathedral,

Then they may Die aged 31 and leave a Widow aged 28,

 With 2 Children aged 1 and 3 and then my Life is over.

 

 

BLAZE THROUGH TIME

 

I want My Name frozen on all the Worlds Hum drum Ways,

Send Signals after Me, when I Kidnap the CV’s.

My Legoscream is eagerly naming them after the Clipping.

The Privates are suing Me, for insuring each Fan I own.

 

 

Wigit and Ligit explode when they Penfold my eek.

 It’s 140 Pounds wide requiring what do you call it each night?

You will have Logging in Your Belly, so rumble out Peers,

That’s my Trembling expulsion, though the Wires are Hatching.

 

 

That “Oh My” gave Birth to a new Test on Exactly,

 The VAT was Knighted by a Trembling through the Clear.

 It was Churned by the Rocking of the slices pinning the Droves,

 Who presumed that peeling shock and prompted the Halting!

The Plot smacks the Ailing who rap out the Square.        

 

 

EVERCHANGING YEARS

 

 

I like the Colour of your Shirt,

As the Evening closes in on your Eyes.

I heard you have so many Kind Personalities

And have already told me of Daily Mistakes.

 

 

Well my Shoes froze when melting the Pantomime Leantils

And blew my Thimble telling People she was ok.

All the notes tell me “Cook Eggs on the Motorway”,

Something different, “Have a Good Life”, People love that remark.

 

 

I want to drop into a Circle like feathers and honey,

The Filltot seems impossible to translate your Rave around.

The spluttering and splattering was full of Mysteries and pointing,

That cup of ketching was the best Welcome ever.

 

 

What do you want me to write next?

The humdrum on that flaking is groovy and hip.

Are you Afraid of the Petered Up, because your Rascal is near?

Hi, my Name is Blank, shall I say that? On account of rumbled sneers.

 

 

 

TIMBER IN THE GRILL UP

 

 

Kill the dark shadows with a Strangled Scream,

Touch the dead air feeling in the Square for 5 Minutes,

Then your skin will never harm your Weirdness again.

Hiccup for Freedom, because my Eye Petals are up for ransome.

 

 

The skipping rope is jumping over the House 

And I always Sapphire my nose on Slimey.

The freak out Radio has the damp stolen again,

Wrap that kink with Jigsaw which puzzled the how.

 

 

The Telescope read my temperature on Hiccups,

Because the neighbour has bleeped another tip toe coin.

The salt was made hanging for Our Quaintness.

 

 

4 hill woes of churning are going to Bed again,

Rip that Lake from the brandishing of pause.

Open my signature saying Please to the Caricuture,

Seeds of ridicule are only desires for my lens.

 

 

A FINE RELATIVE CALLED REX                  

 

 I Miss a Name called Rex, My Father- in- Law,                                                                         He has not Deceased, but is benefitting the Heavens Population.                                           Rex treated me as ‘Well’, not somebody who is Mentally ILL.

Thank you Africa for letting Rex Help People there.                                                                How did you feel in Church the 1st Time after your Childhood Accident?                                World War 2 nearly Killed You, when you almost took shelter in a Church,                               in Bristol, England, which was Bombed Murdering People underneath it.

 

  

You made it past the Average Age for a United Kingdom Man,                                              despite having a Killer Medical ILLness called “Arthritis” for over 50                                      Years. Rex’s favourite Musician was Mozart, from which an Orchestra,                                   called the “Sovereign Collection” recorded a Song “Mozart 40”. It was                                   released in the Pop Charts on Rex and Joy’s Wedding Day-

  

 

          “3 APRIL 1971 AD”

 

 

Rex and Joy went on Honeymoon in Skye in Scotland.

He is in the Best Sky Now.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

         

MOVEMENTS ANGRY DARK

 

I have 2 legs, 2 hands and 2 eyes,                                                                        So I have nothing to Complain about.

                   I gave up sugar in my tea 20 Years ago,

                   But please don’t tell that Adult,

                   As I have grating skin when awake.

 

 

                   Let’s creep around Town with our Cells held high,

                   Otherwise we might get burnt and kiss a Heavy.

                   You can buy a new Back at the Market,

                   It’s free, Global, best Discount in the World.

 

 

                   If you turn left, your high hopping will Shine with Pride,

                   There is a swamp nearby which sprays Skulls with Perfume.

                   Oh my good, my Memory is sexy as our pity.

                   People expels Here, because I never think about the Winner,

                   But I realize nobody does, that Tail shakes our Shame.

  

 

THEY ARE MOVING DELETING

                                                                                                                                                     A delicious Light Bulb is weeping your conscience again,

          When you were minding your Fleas, near the Sons of Salvation.

          Kind to your Tail, weight lift the Clocks-Hugo style.

          The Ink has Retired, stamp on the rush, Head stands rule.

 

 

          Weird Antiques have dry rotted my Empire of Lack lusted pondering.

          The Trail was moody, then it gassed Waylaid by beckoning.

          The Hand Hummer was outlawed by presumption, swift bows.

          Collect those Ravines, crate your Low before the core.

  

 

WHEN BETH AND MATTHEW FIRST MET

 

I never wanted to go into a Computer room again,

But when I entered, My Life changed hopefully for ever.

She was only a few feet from me,

I wanted to get to Know Her and not look for Anybody else.

 

I never spoke to Anybody in the computer room,             

But I Listened to people’s Conversation learning more about her.

It was my Silence that intrigued her.

In 6 Months we spoke only once, she said “Hello” and I ignored her,

Yet that 1 Word gave me Hope for the future.

She was doing and enjoying some Wonderful Voluntary work.

 

In that 6 months of Silence, I worked out at the Gym,

Playing Badminton, Tennis, Walking and

going on the Exercise Bikes were my Saviours.

I wanted her to see I was well physically and improving Mentally.

 

We enjoyed our First proper Conversation in the tea room,

Giving a CV of our lives, despite being Strangers,

Because we wanted to get to Know each other better.

The Best thing was her Kind Heart which will never Leave her.

 

If she had left the Class before We spoke,

I would have asked somebody to pass on my Hopes to her.

We both have got our Problems like everybody in the World.            

Let’s thank each other for wanting to get to Know One another.

 

Thank you Shrub Hill, an Excellent Mental Health Network,                                                   for helping Both of Us in our lives.

Hopefully our Love will last For ever.    

 

FIRST QUENCH SECOND FLAKES             

 

                                                                                                                                                                            My lucky Number has always been 42,                                                                         it was the 1st Word I spoke when in the Earth’s Womb.

          Exactly on my 42 Birthday, I gave Birth to Twins.

          All the People in this Sphere applauded and supported me.

          Now I have 42 Children, so my Temperature is perfect.

 

 

          I walked 42 Steps to keep my features alive,

          These Turbines will be leaked into my children’s Bizarre ID.

           My Hosblend auctioned my flavored 42 Engles hoping for slime.

           Henwock has never awoken a Flekling, lucky Germs pregnate .

  

          My Middle name is 42, the number will save Zozered,                                                             Now I crawl 1764, 42 X 42 Legs longs every day.

          I have ripped the surname of every Cothing in preserving my 42.

          So now I follow the Greatest Pitalings instead of Human Ongers.    

 

 

 

   

PATHS MELTED SACKS OF NERVES

 

 

You can only call me by recognizing my Life of steam.

A Pilchard Cream are parties of hungry Jelly standing astonished,

That away game of steel gives back my Rationality.

 

 

Trapped, Sulphur gone, waving equals sorrow, breathe carefully, still,

It was not the wollow  you chose,  skip to evil Hectares.

Zonguna in your solar swings into a Quiver,

Won saw the other, one captured the invisibility of science.

 

 

It was in the Creeping, the truth angers one, Great me,

Giving shoulders to humiliate the Realms of Disney security.

You have picked in public the liar-Agog and Waver,

Arrest this humiliation which is life of Bonding, distance now.

 

 

MOISTURE ON THE BOX

  

I am not Bozowing or a paid idyllic living patter of snaring,

But my elbow celebrates people’s Skulls, to fumbled stains of thread.

This scent of everything is dumped on the trembling,

But the glare slashed the crumbling Strangle of Welting.

  

Multiplication is the Pedal Memory, fitfully sworn under,

The density was etched onto the Stabilization of Reality.

Punctuality of premature hung crumbles lay with the Sensational,

Humiliate Tingling power, jellify the crawls of team Split egos.

 

 

MY GREATEST HUMAN ACT

 

 

I have been Dead for 2 Minutes now,

I am glad I agreed to die.

This means People in Poorer Countries have extra Years Pain free.

Some bits of me felt like a Heart Attack when living.

 

 

Nobody will be punished for my Wishes are humane

He loved me for wishing his Death,

Because his back was Painful for 1000’s of days.

It is the most Worthwhile gift I have created.

You don’t become a hero but you gain respect.

  

Child volunteers who are dying are Giving Most years to grateful ones.

The children receive Better Packages, helping the vulnerable in Hell,

It is not a race, but patience, for politeness will save the day.

  

I am the first, the best, how Brave I am,

Plus writing my biography on my Grave Stone in a Rubbish tip,

Has meant my spirit will Infuse the Air,

So others will say “It is my Turn to die” so another body Wins.

 

 

DREAMS SPEAK OF WHISPERS

 

 

I am a Gnome

And I Sit on my Throne all alone,

Happily in my Dome,

Which is made out of Chrome,

So I shall have to Pay Out a loan.

 

 

This is Sincerely my home,

Which is Full of my moans,

So how many do you Want lively bones?

 

 

The numbers are Mentioned concerning the Zones,

But what about your Musical tones?

All I Swell up on are peoples groans,

In a village which is called “Mighty Sloane.”

 

 

SILENT FORGIVENESS SALUTES

 

 

My head Nose guards the ‘Yes’ shop,

The Condensation seeps into customers’ skins to battle tails outside.

A different worker swallows the toxins of Youth,

Incase the pavement Dwellers change into Bundles of sincerity farewells.

 

 

The locks are a 345 digit Puzzle embryo,

People’s hands measured Cheery weeping of blending loyalty.

The back room has a 300 footdrop for lair ongre twills.

Lights go out to warn the robido Menu of diseases.

 

 

The queue is hacked down by seeds spitting,

Penny things into the shops history of toiled glare.

Workers stamp onto litizing translating Phone book spies of crumbling.

Contents who never trembled, heard their insult yes and no.

Comb the door, Ye blonde purples must hurry the Slime of Gozz.

 

 

Every bodie’s In, night mornings expand your X2T3,

Robbbs.           

 

 

 

HUMAN HAPPILY LURED TO GOODNESS

 

 

My Icy grip conforms to your 3.58 am Midnight curse,

129 dead by your Throat before you recognize my Tummy button.

Build up the Defences, before they claim the heir of everyone,

Wake up, another political party Evaporated, literature struggles survival.

 

 

You smelt of Sweets, but only misled leaders are lured to goodness,

Passports cancelled, planes go to the North Pole.

Secrets are expelled, Speak and spell out the bells,

Decades left of what? Discoveries abound in different ways.

 

 

I want to express myself, but Danger abounds, normality wins the day,

Roar, crash, danger equals give me three, every time we meet.

Unravel, scrape it together, put It into a Test tube,

Tell them Now, not too late? The worlds greatest again.

Hello, can I put my slippers into a Public place?

 

 

CANDLES OF WOULD EQUALS BRAVE

 

            Why don’t you Pick up that piece of dust,                                                                           it causes family Rows and upsets grandma’s lipstick.

          How would you like it Spread over your washing?

          Big enough to be photographed by Curious scientists.

 

 

          No professional cleaner will Remove it, too scared and risky, ZZZ.

          Somebody rang the emergency services, because it’s getting  Mouldy.

          A shadow can play with it and Adopt it.

          The teacher has been Naughty stealing the dust’s parent wisdom.

 

          The piece of dust is eating up the tiles, causing An embarrassment

          Go into the bomb shelter, Gelatine can be taken in, only once.

          Now everybody is Gathered outside, hypnosis with towels offer  hope.

 

          A Policewoman catches the Dust, taping it on her truncheon,

          Now its secure, Visitors allowed, be filmed with dust, nice with nails.

 

 

FOOT UNDER THE THRONE

 

                                                                                                                                                                People gathered to Scatter their mourning over the last fairy,

          You think people’s dying imagination has Wilted these fine creatures?

          The fairies’ ancient Stories are under curfew, by not collecting reaps,

          Hush, it’s good, the shooting stars killed the fairies Sanctuary forever.

 

          The earth angels play the lyre in a Packed hall of shame,

          Because other creatures failed the earthly Test to Wibble humans.

          Garden birds crash into Imagination, hijacking adopting fairies,

          No steel stones, Studs enter cremations, fairies abolished sleeping.

 

          A mermaid sold her spots, to preserve fairy remains,

          Which she showed to Divers in the wreck where she gave life.

The angelic Graces no longer shamed by attacking fairies, squeak.

           Humble Bellied, it was you saying myths of fairies in petrol pumps.

 

          All the fairies are Sponsored by a legend, it never cracks or jumps.

          Fairy games are Sancified mercifully to save the imaginative ego,

          Females worked out the science fiction, to do a Wish for fairies.

          The magic stalked the fairy Bandages, eclipsing their smiles,

          Fairies on earth are good Domination, saving the human torch.

 

 

IT HAS GONE TOO FAR DOWN

 

                                                                                                                                                                I saw 7 butterflies in our Fantasy eating mystery questions,

          It could Ruin our life, so what to you.

          Well butterflies simmer through our bodies at night,

          Prompting us to Hack out and disguise ourselves as floorboards.

          We take pictures of Them, but every coping refuses our pleas.

 

 

      So we hide in Boiling freezers, to Vibrate the sneering alarming  good, 

     the reporters  keep on Messing around with tempered territory misses.

     We leave home every day to  become Rapid and cynical,

     Thus our worries are faster than rapids, which trembles the core.

  

          So what happens if you Rip off our lives?

          Too late, the butterflies will soon quake at your meticulous  pandering.

          “Hello to Mr and Mrs butterfly, can I blinker your Bravery?”

          Vapours exhausting gliding pedals, symbolize good will to butterflies.

 

 

 

THE FLARE OF THE GLARE IS MIGHTY

 

                                                                                                                                              The giant is still Eating growth medicine,                                                                                 12 foot tall, who Crawled until 29 years years old.                                                                Giant can roll his words and take them to Passers by,                                                    somebody Squashed them but pleased giant could  swop his ears around.

                                          

                                                                                                                                                     Now he’s swinging on a plank, which floated 3 people today.                                              Giant eats his hair, turns pink and is apologetic to Imagination.                                    Followers call giant a Loser as a pleasing nickname thank you.                                         Now Giant floats among symbols catering for the 80 plus Who- dunnit.

 

                                                                                                                                                  Now meet his parents, both 24 foot Tall and slick solid,

 They eat people’s fences, only ones which ring out Slayed- potterings.

They glued 265 children in 11 days onto large pieces of Grass,

 Giant’s parents whisper spinning Wheels and drink melted down  bewares.

  

  It was the Sleeve which gave giant Medals of freedom for tall people,

  Bankrupting the heirs of River high meant pondering to quivering slurs.                                 Now Giant is victorious in Gliding the snaring world,

  To a pretty picking Plucking, who knows what to make of you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© GnomeingSpriteicus 2011

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