I Cry Alone ~ The Tear
I cry alone, among threads coming apart at the seams
Tattered torn tears weather the hide ‘n seek gleam
Cheek frowning among smile’s positive~negative esteem
Emotions running the gamut of enduring extremes.
Poet inside true grit’s pain scratching core ingredients
Heart beat thrust daggers, upon turmoil’s expedience
Reigning down deep with cancerous cesspool lesions
Ranting venom molten lava released venting reasons.
The tear of fear digs deep in the psyche’s trap door
Haunting toxins fermenting ‘n simmering vat sore
Writing Poetry’s living suicide dark revolving-door
Treason to die; reason to mend, heal, - then to explore.
Horizon revolves storm’s vibrating vengeance stages
Skies thundering downcast in vicious venom rages
Cellulose canvas whipping post on word rampages
Transferring volatile fingered words onto napkin images.
Napkins absorbing ranting reign torrent stream statements,
Verse later destroyed, discarded, or saved abatements;
Rainbow sprouts spring, reclaiming rejuvenated movements,
Therapeutic medicinal cleansing - negative abolishment.
Oh, sad tears weep into fabric twists among positive changes
Wringing out haunting pasts among enlightened exchanges,
Misting eyes filling in hollowed dark eyed grave open pits.
Garden temporal universe in Free Verse therapy puzzle fits.
Oh, Poetry extreme imagery ride roller coaster HeArt Beat words
Never Tali-BAN ban the American Artmosphere poetic spirit
Ranting in Vietnam Conflicts ‘n Mission Accomplished questions
Where a White House ‘n Corporations ban Liberal Art expressions.
So sad is the grave tear of an American Poet, “Terminated for Poetry.”
Being HR banned from writing therapeutic verse 24/7 - for a lifetime!
Fingers at home fermenting acidity amputated on lost loves right of rhyme
Alabama Tali-bana rocking chair home - nothing to do but die with prose.
But with living suicide of one’s own home, you must be set Free
Writing winds among forced retirement’s Freedom ‘n Democracy.
Mobile homes of motels, friends, ‘n rest stop sleeping “Poets.”
She glides down the road, a partner seeking Artmosphere’s home.
Next stop, Philadelphia cradle of brotherly love’s History ‘N Heritage,
Where Ben Franklin Poetry flourishes among self-expression patriotism.
Founding fathers, who never invaded Home Sweet Home Independence.
I cry alone - the tear of patriot birthrights in Civil Liberties Free Verse,
“We the people” Declaration of Independence’s divine artistry of cohesion.
Oh, words rage on upon this page’s venting ‘n ranting fingers
Feel the canvas napkin tear RIPping apart the characters core
Pieces of puzzles ringing extremes of positive to negative to …..
Swings of pen stoking power of the inner most poetic HeArt beats,
Now take the napkin away and say you are banned from using it,
Support the right for employees to write Poetry in their own homes,
After all Home Sweet Home, even in Alabama, it is one’s castle.
The people of Alabama have been blessed divinely,
But do they think Corporations are plantation owners,
Whose houses are subject to 24/7 banned HR edicts.
These unwritten rules of compliance for legal reasons
That the courts might strike illegal if written down.
Alabama make all HR edicts, subject to recorded evidence.
Even in a “Right To Work” state, workers need Democracy
In “Home Sweet Home Alabama” of “God Bless America”
Writing down verse in song lyrics, Terminated for Poetry.
Oh, rant within the napkins the tears, why it was a crime
To write on them with Vietnam rants in venting Freedom
That therapeutic Democracy is being amputated damn silent.
Ole man, weathering on Main Street rocking chair ghosts;
Deaf, mute, blind: member of dead poet society grave future.
David L. Young 05/09 to 05/10/08©
De-Terminated poet, somewhere in America not on company time