Chad the bad was extremely glad he pinched a pint of juice
He had no time to pick the best, but got one 80 proof
The next to find a great long line to fill his nostrils toot
To blow his mind over the time it takes to get more loot
He’ll foul a friend oh don’t pretend you think you know his game
Remember it’s done under the moon he never wants the fame
booguloo@live.com Michael Yost
The pinion of gears the minion of fears
Twisting in the coil and boil
Throughout the years of tears and sears of flame
The wrenching pain and who’s the blame
For the toil
Who’s to shame why the game
Face the gates to a new fate
Forget the hate
Drop the bait
Step into your new found state
The state of mind above the grind
Left down behind the barn
The barn so long ago
The maladjusted souls
And the youth they stole
booguloo@live.com Michael Yost
Never the less always the more
Same as it was never before
Going uphill rounding the bend
Dry as a bone wet as a hen
Go fly a kite bug on the wall
Stop on a dime don’t drop the ball
Up in the air down on the ground
Just silliness nothing profound
© 2010-2011 Michael Yost booguloo@live.com
Busted seams of tattered dreams deeds hidden from the sun.
Driven by the dawning twilight, only to be spun.
Twitter tweakers face aglow, nursing a warm beer.
Sweaty fingered Razor tweeting, “McKenzie needs a lift here.”
Last lick bindle prick, reflection surrounds the spoon.
Shifting stance, shoulder glance, hiding from the moon.
Rubbing thread bare Ruby Rigid swollen with desire.
Live for today, never stay, time will soon expire.
© 2010-2011 Michael Yost booguloo@live.com
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Drug Use, Lonliness, Mental breakdown, Mental Health, Meth, Perspectives and Opinions, Poetry, tweaker
Pout
Embrace the moment before it goes
Deep hollow echoing’s seem to expose
Nothing within and nothing without
But always something about to pout
© 2010-2011 Michael Yost booguloo@live.com
Michael's Lair 