The Spirit's Heist

Well it was Rob and Hol and me,

planning the heist with some care you see.

Hol was here, the charming dear,

and Rob was there, the big ol' bear.

The walls were tall and we were short

but we had to get in that big old fort.

There was gold in there for you and me,

We'd get rich quick and you all'd see.

Cause this was the heist for glory and gold

and it's better to die then to get bored and old

So we started our journey to make our name

whether rich or dead we'd have our fame.

So we popped the fence, and ran the yard,

We snuck right in and we popped the guard

but search and search as hard as we might

no gold was found to much of our fright.

So we hid away to try and regroup

But the guards were lurking and starting to snoop

So we ended in a closet, just barely covered,

and there, a door, we blindly discovered.

Cause this was the heist for glory and gold

and it's better to die then to get bored and old

So we started our journey to make our name

whether rich or dead we'd have our fame.

We opened the door and it led to a cave,

and I swear I thought this might be my grave,

but we kept pressing on to find our prize,

when we got to the end I couldn't believe my eyes.

There was a treasure room with mountains of gold,

and some skeletons that looked kinda old,

So we filled our bags to the very brim,

but as soon as we did things looked pretty grim.

Cause this was the heist for glory and gold

and it's better to die then to get bored and old

So we started our journey to make our name

whether rich or dead we'd have our fame.

Well the skulls lit up and I knew that aint good,

so we made for the exit, but there it stood!

An apparition appeared and my heart stood still,

but my feet did not, cause they knew the drill.

Rob fired a shot and I swear it went through,

but the spirit kept coming and though slowly it flew,

We were trapped it seems, on this darkest day,

but it was that runaway bullet that showed us the way.

Cause this was the heist for glory and gold

and it's better to die then to get bored and old

So we started our journey to make our name

whether rich or dead we'd have our fame.

The shot went through the dark cave wall

and a flutter of light was seen down the hall

so we circled the ghoul and made our way past

the cave wall we'd see was really a cast!

We broke right through that old fake wall,

and found a sewer that broke our fall,

We ran down a bit but the spook didn't gain,

it seemed in the cave it would still remain.

Down the sewer we crawled our way out,

Yeah we were dirty, but rich, no doubt!

That's how the three of us got to walk away

From the greatest heist the legends would say.

PTL writes a country song!

Now I remember.
My first steps here
The shear excitement, and that subtle fear.
Now I remember.
How we first met
You came right over,
and some time we spent.
A name of angels,
and a face so cute
Straight through my heart, 

you sunk that root.

but this is college
no time for chains
My daddy told me,
y'all women like trains.
There's another comin.
Comin right around
I'll find my baby,
She must be found.

Well soon ya left me,
for another man
left your old lover, your biggest fan.
And I threw some punches,
and I got around
and before you knew it,
My new baby was found.
Her eyes like oceans,
and her skin like silk
This one was better,
much past the ilk

But this is college.
no time for chains
My daddy told me,
y'all women like trains.
There's another comin.
Comin right around
I'll find my baby,
She must be found.

And soon I left ya.
I said no more.
Behind them blue eyes, 

was such a bore
So I began to wander 

and search around
It seems my baby
just can't be found.

but this is college
no time for chains
My daddy told me,
y'all women like trains.
There's another comin.
Comin right around
I'll find my baby,
She must be found.

And then I found her
where she'd always been
Searching round just like me
Not where, but when.
And we went for dinner.
and we saw the stars
and we watched some movies,
and we hit the bars.
We made that bed creak,
with sounds of lust
That heart was beatn',
you cleared the rust.
I found my baby
But she ain't fond me
And so she left me,
Despite my plea.

And this was college
and I want some chains
My mamma told me
y'all women like planes
We can soar together,
But now I'm goin down in flames
I found my baby,
But she ain't found me.

The Cliff of Opportunity

Here I stand on the Cliff of Opportunity,

Wishing desperately for an ounce of immunity.

The fear has settled to deep down inside

but if I miss my jump I’m in for a ride.

With such great risk it’s easy to fail.

but the head is surely the envy of tail.

The jump off the cliff is much, much too great,

but life won’t let me deny my fate.

Here I stand on the Cliff of Opportunity

and failure to jump will have no impunity.

The brain is raw from the internal fight,

but the heart is strong and knows it’s right.

The fall is deep and I know the peril,

but the other side is much more sterile.

The grey and gloom will change to bliss,

the scars and scabs now a hug and kiss.

Here I stand on the Cliff of Opportunity

as time stretched on it became a community.

For here we sat in fear of our fear, 

when the answer to jump was clearly so clear.

The Hunter's Lament

The prowler stalks the populous wood,

the prey is among him, he'd strike if he could.

He follows and corners, but stays his hand
He searches and hunts throughout the land

The largest, the grandest, the greatest alive,
Was sadly his quickest for death to arrive.
The hunt was over before it began,
The prize was caught before it ran.

The ultimate catch, it hangs on the wall.
The envy of many, it's know by all.
Yet the hunter is restless, not stalled by the prize.
With each passing night, his soul slowly sighs.

The hunt had ended before it began.
Years of training, that made the man.
Does he shed the glory to finally be free?
To hunt in the woods, to feel god's glee.

Though envied he is, happy he's not.
Ashamed he's not as proud as the lot.
The hunter has claimed the grandest prize.
but it never was really about the size.

A God's view

The concrete carves the flesh of earth,
the little ants must prove their worth.
All we perceive to be so big,
Would, to a god, be but a twig.

Thousands of trees
the people, the bees,
both big and small,
both short and tall.

From the view of the heavens, with angels and harps
all that below is like spilled paint on the tarps.
A canvas of wax, painted and cut.
The squiggles and lines are both beauty and smut.

The Final Draft

The sweetest of dreams like the whitest of creams

will melt your mind to its end.

When danger's afar remember the scar
and the message she wanted to send.

When safety appears remember your fears

And you just might just come out on top.

The love and the lust like the gather of rust

Just might make the dream pop.

But the lightness of love, like the flight of a dove,

Is free and graceful and kind.

When the search is all over, like a little Mars rover,

It takes a mission to make a big find.

Like a star in the night, so pure, and so bright,

The soul is clean and so clear.

Like the dove in the sky, not timid, not shy 

I found the one I hold dear.

The greatest prize, with the grandest of size,
Is the smile you bring to my face.
In such a long hunt, came an answer so blunt.
It is better to jog than to race.
Now we're alive, toward completion we strive,
to better each other and ourselves.
To be your man, and do what I can
and with memories we'll line all the shelves.

Like a dream come true, despite shit gone through,
a record you easily break.
A night of beer and one lustful leer,
and the heart is free from its ache.
Like the wheat is gold, and the sunshine is bold,
but one day and my heart is fed.
Will it go on forever? Just never say never,
and you'll always be My Red.

Lost Thoughts

Lost are the thoughts that burn like wood
Though written they're lost in some foreign place
If I could find them, then share them I could.
If I could find them, my mind would not race.

I scribbled and scrabbled as the plane flew by
Time was my friend, and words poured
the meter and rhyme as pure as the sky,
The meanings tugged, and the message roared.

Alas! I sit, discouraged and shamed.
With only a glimpse of what I recall
In this book was my most famed!
But now life came and took it all.

Trash to most, but a treasure to me
The ink and paper held my thoughts
A small glimpse of the world that I see
But now that image slowly rots.

We have a way to save our work,
It's better than a silly book.
Life will laugh with a crooked smirk
Laughing at your angered look

Davenport

The pins of light strike the flesh
A sight to be seen, a feeling so fresh.
The stillest serenity suddenly stirs,
the breeze of life in the greenest firs.
The fun fell light on each of our souls
the branches bow and the river rolls.
A place so alive, seems so dead
A place so free, from a home of lead.
Out of place but in their spot
a slice of heaven somehow caught.
at liberty from light, such strangers to night
yet ready and willing to face the fight.
Out from the site, a force so nocturnal
embraced together, three brothers, fraternal.
but peace prevails in heaven's slice
a perfect trip disrupted twice.
And when we returned to the most dreadful place,
I never forgot nature's clear face.
Our camp in the forest with all of the creatures,
the birds our fans, the branches the bleachers.
Out of our place but in our home
Davenport was truly nature's Rome.

Lips

The smoothest of things cracks under pressure,

in laugh or lash, or something much fresher.

Where warmth is clear, even when cold,

Each word is made, shy or bold.

No sight as sad as to see them quiver,

When happiness can flow just like a river.

To flow so free, and grow and shrink

thoughts and speech you freely link.

The bringer of love, and the giver of hate,

the softest flesh, the most tempting bait.

The tell of mind, and body, and soul,

On the longest of journeys, the very first toll.

A venture worth taking, a stop you cant miss.

start down the path, take the first kiss.

writing

Thoughts can flow so free like the breeze,

unhindered by hills, or mountains, or trees.

While some might warm you from elbows to knees,

Others latch on like a swarm of old fleas.

Tis better to save them, to write, if you please.

To cover the page with a poetic sneeze.

Whether out with bang or out with a wheeze,

Wring your thoughts out, give that old brain a squeeze.