Emotional Geography 70
BROKEN lines, with a crazy smile,
eyes pointed up, towards the
burning sun.IS this it, you yell
at GOD, or just another bad trip.
BROKEN lines with some happy dust,
a woman sits by herself, with her
pipe, and drugs, is this it, she
yells at GOD, or just another bad
trip.
BROKEN lines mend as one, they
wash there bodies in the water
of GOD, is this it, they both yell,
yes says the king, now go back
home.
BROKEN lines, with crazy smiles...
poem by David Gerardino
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Ready For The Storm
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
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Cant Sleep
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
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Smile On The Way Out
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
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Gigantic Moods
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
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Silent Peaple
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
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Creepy Visions
A tast of copper in my mouth,
some creepy visions in my head,
and chemicals going off like the
fourth of july, relax says the self
helpers, we can get throw this, just
take these pills, and shut your eyes.
BUT these natives are restless,
these visions are pushing their
way out, like the sun does to
the night, and these chemicals
are going off in my head, like the
fourth of july. relax says the
self helpers, just take these pills
and go to bed.
poem by David Gerardino
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Tast Of Copper
A tast of copper in my mouth,
some creepy visions in my head,
and chemicals going off like the
fourth of july, relax says the self
helpers, we can get throw this, just
take these pills, and shut your eyes.
BUT these natives are restless,
these visions are pushing their
way out, like the sun does to
the night, and these chemicals
are going off in my head, like the
fourth of july, relax says the
self helpers, just take these pills
and shut your eyes.
poem by David Gerardino
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In The End, A Sad King
ROAMING free, in a spell bound
dream, there are snakes here,
dangerous snakes, and the isolation
of a drunken king. one man grapples,
another crys, another throws himself
into the wicked night.
ROAMING free, into the devels arms,
theres are drugs to make you like him,
and drugs to stop your heart.
there are snakes here, dangerous snakes,
and the isolation of a drunked king.
ROAMING free hand to hand, there is
hope here, and death to a wicked king.
poem by David Gerardino
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Bipoler 2
this ghetto got its own moon, its own temtation, and i whole new set of rules, this ghetto got its own pregnant night, and brokerness, and drugs that bite, .and the moon, , and the moon turns into glass. this ghetta got its own blood, and guns, and different time zone, and the moon, and the moon turns to glass...this ghetto got its own bed, and a night light that looks like the moon, , , , , and the moon, and the moon turns into glass, , , , , , , , , , , ...
poem by David Gerardino
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