a shoebox full of a past forgotten

All or nothing

I don’t conform
to style
or technique
there are no dictionaries in my world
no need for them
no rights
no wrongs
it is what it is
will be what it will be
I listen to many
take advice from few
as I think of other things
too doo,
the constant bombardment
of words
upon my tomb entices my muse
as I tarry on
in this journey of life
waiting
patiently
for redemption from
death, life ,love,
the mistakes of the past
of tomorrow
but never of today,
for today is exactly what I am
what I will be
nothing more nothing less
for life is more than I expected it to be
but much less than I thought it could be
of course we all seek the never ending
search for acceptance
and of course a fondness for diet pop
helps along the way
It’s really all one needs,
all one wants
like it or lump it
the sky is grey
there is no in-between
today and tomorrow
for the future is nothing more than the past
in denial
the words are there
they always will be
just reach into your heart and rip them free
or gently coax them from the wings of butterflies
and all will be fine
just ask the greats
i am sure they knew
ezra searched for the cantos
and found fame and madness
for what
a castle full of ghost
and screams in the night
dragged through the streets
for what
the ideologies of man
is nothing but a life of pain
and a heart full of shame
bukowski searched for a way out
and found a way in
but still couldn’t accept it
until death walked him away
in the dead of the night
god forsake not the light of the day,
hem a giant amongst giants
said it all
until he said to much
for the war was close at hand
the drums still beating
until the very end,
fante searched and found it all
until the cruelty of life dissected him
then all was left were his words
and a dying fame,
me?
not even a scribble upon the frayed pages
of lost thoughts
of those that at one time
ruled this genre like dinosaurs
waiting on the brink of
extinction,
still!
well
what can I say?
Infamy,money and fame,
has evaded me
not much left to say
other than
satchmo plays in the distance
as the night sets me free
and I dream of,
crystal heels
white pumps
diamond rings
cocaine fantasies
satin nightmares
as demons of the past scream
sweet nothings into the deadness of my mind!
still
not enough?…………..

a shoebox full of a past forgotten

troader

Joined April 2009

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 44

Artist's Description

just words….inspired by a shobox full of photos that i thought was lost but were returned to me by a friend….how that could inspire this is beyond me?

Artwork Comments

  • JRGarland
  • troader
  • Vesna ©
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  • Rhinovangogh
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  • timbuckley
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  • evon ski
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  • autumnwind
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  • Bootiewootsy
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  • sandra22
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  • CanyonWind
  • troader
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