Brewing Blemishes

Aside

          Brewing Blemishes

The ocean sways gently.
The earth. It never stops its productivity?
As my body brews blemishes, along with many aches.
And as I begin to prepare a ship, for an unpredictable journey.

Thirteen years. It’s been a long time.
And these days at port, will never be seen, again.
My worry, it has revealed the wrinkles.
Along with the fear, which until recently, hasn’t been shown.

I’ll be sure to pick up a few things….
Before the next thirteen years begin.
Only this time, the hours will be controlled by dangerous waters, and random tides.

Blemishes. Are they just scars? Or is there some emotion to back up the story?
As the sun sets on this opening chapter. . . .
And as I raise the anchor from the ever-changing sea. . . .
With my magic parchment at hand. . . .
And a pretty cool hat, if I must say so myself.
I’ll float into the distance.
With blemishes to show as lessons learned.
And a past, where the good weighs out the bad.

These ancient waters continue to sway.
As if they were born only yesterday.
This land of green and these skies with a blue finish, still remain productive.
As my body brews blemishes. . . .
My sail goes up. . . .
While the opening curtain, comes down.

Dedicated to Blountstown High School’s Class of 2010.

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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My Mother and Father’s Accuracy

Aside

          My Mother and Father’s Accuracy

My Mama always said that dribbling is important. 
And Daddy emphasizes aggressive behavior on hardwood floors.
He’s deep in real life, while Mama cares for angels. 
For corrections our inevitable during adolescent turmoil.

My Papa loses pictures, and my Mema’s ulcer bleeds.
Carbonated water is for the birds, and Mama and Daddy are right.
Regretting life is not an option, it is, but everything’s ok. 

And my baby fat disappeared.  Mama said that it would.
Most bullies live in cells.  Incarcerated bastards!  They never had a chance.
And at the end of ’04, tree’s bare, St. Joe in town.
I knelt in tears by my chester-drawer.  The Soviets slaughtered America.

My Papa loses pictures, and my Mema’s ulcer bleeds.
Carbonated water is for the birds, and Mama and Daddy are right.
Regretting life is not an option, it is, but everything’s ok. 

Mama said that a game would become work without regulation.
Daddy did all that he could.  I’m aware that tension resides.
Coaches failed me, and I never learned chi.
But my mother and father still help and support me. 
The rainbows, parallel and many; Disappeared, but I’m breathing.   

My Papa loses pictures, and my Mema’s ulcer bleeds.
Carbonated water is for the birds, and Mama and Daddy are right.
Regretting life is not an option, it is, but everything’s ok. 

My Mama wants to go back to school.  She deserves that opportunity. 
And I write these lines because appreciation is a branch on the family tree.
Forgetless memories.  Let down by the blue man.
The kunt-bitch from my mind’s sea. 
But Mama and Daddy are here.  They’re right, right, right. 

My Papa loses pictures, and my Mema’s ulcer bleeds. 
Carbonated water is for the birds, and Mama and Daddy are right.
Regretting life is not an option, it is, but everything’s ok. 

I felt the wind depart from world’s end at day’s beginning. 
Mama and Daddy, thank you. 

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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Facebook Notifications

Aside

         Facebook Notifications

A bitch I’ll refuse.
A whore I’ll deny.
I respect these individuals.
But it’s not my style.
Beauty from the outside, and vice versa!

Give me a message.
Give me a sign!
Sometimes I refuse to try.
I know its destiny!  I know my needs!
Beauty from the outside, and vice versa!

Searching the unseen constellations.
Grasping for air with a considerable mass.
I glance at the screen; a red, numbered, Earth!
They’re all from Europe and Asia!
That’s too far away!
Beauty from the outside, and vice versa!

Communication strategy # one.
Ethic, logic, kinesthetics….
Doesn’t matter….will build together.
I’m not a smooth talker!
But I’m a good man!  I know I am!
“I swear to God I am!” Salinger writes.
Beauty from the outside, and vice versa!

Live!  Live!  Live!
Die! Die!  Die!
It happens every day!
It is the absolute truth!  Maybe?

There’s something in between.
A reason, a taken season, two reasons.
Both are the same.  Both are equal.
An angel, a scandal, an angel, a scandal.
Give me it all for just one day!
Beauty from the outside, and vice versa!

A bitch I’ll refuse.
A whore I’ll deny.
I respect these individuals.
But it’s not my style.
Beauty from the outside, and vice versa!

Don’t leave me here to die….

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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http://twitter.com/#!/RADsPeace
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