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Horror and Sin -- Runes etched in skin

by JD Glasscock 3 days ago in humanity

Various pieces of poetry and lyrics

Horror and Sin -- Runes etched in skin

A Room with no walls

Lyrics by JD Glasscock

I've been singing songs

in a room with no walls

Wondering how I got here

Wondering where the time went

You look back upon the road

you see choices made and spirits that were broke

and Her hips were the trance that made me dance

and I stumble upon the hopes of another chance

and she's long gone to a distant dream

Tomorrow is but a breath away

as i sway to a melody on the tips of tongues

I struggle to remember when i was young

and everything seemed but a step away

to hard work and a world where she stayed

Don't live a life of could of beens....

You'll end up someone's Hucklleberry Finn.

and the music moves on....

she's long gone, write yourself a new dawn

I've been singing songs

in a room with no walls

wondering how i got here

wondering where the time went

ON days when you feel spent

lift your head, and don't lament

move your legs and step step step

on days when you feel spent

lift your head and don't lament

move your legs and step step step

Don't live a life of could of beens

you'll end up someone's Huckleberry Finn

and the music moves on

she's long gone, write yourself a new dawn

I've been singing songs

in a room with no walls

dreaming dreams and making plays

looking for morrow's day

in a new smile, in a new way

got places to go and plan to make it to the show

go go go, go go go

we reap what we sow

Spoken wyrds

(poem written now 8/24/17)

By JD Glasscock

I look upon a moment, upon eyes glittering truth...upon curves spelling doom, my passion upon a skein of flesh....and her spirit resonates lullabies to my secret sweet....to my future spun upon weaves and a stumbling in belief......and as my older bones stump imprinted runes upon a tone of a rhythm bound in interwoven intonations of her thighs spread upon my hips......i carnivorously throw edges upon her nectar...upon the woman that seeks to tame my wildness, my unforgiving heat and bow to her strength, her everything riding my spirit to ground and benevolance......let us spread feathers upon the thermals to a forever ending and smiles on the womb of stars.

1951 (wrote this now 5/1/2017 1130pm)

Lyrics by JD Glasscock

I've been the cool daddio

I've been the step back man

I've been the crazy mofo

and in a lonely heart band

skip bouncing sins into the night

It's in the dawn, the soft light

crayon drawn, her silouhette long gone

her smile, the story that made everything bright

and if she had stayed, everything would of been, could of been, alright

It's an old song, talking about old wrongs,

talking about where we belonged on those days

when we got along

It's an old song, talking about old wrongs,

talking about where we belonged on those days

when we got along

But it's yesterday when we thought today

would stay the same

when the dreams were young

and the word "love" slow danced tip of tongues

before yesteryear became broken tears

in the falling year of 1951

When Macarthur of Army Days was fired on back steps

hip cat strays

and Alice fell through a looking glass

and everything seemed to have more class

when street cars named desire

and african queens in raging fires

played hopscotch with americans in paris

and the earth stood still and the radios tossed pills

hello young lovers

I wont cry anymore

hello young lovers

I wont cry anymore

But it's yesterday when we thought today

would stay the same

when the dreams were young

and the word "love" slow danced tip of tongues

before yesteryear became broken tears

in the falling year of 1951

When Macarthur of Army Days was fired on back steps

hip cat strays

and Alice fell through a looking glass

and everything seemed to have more class

when street cars named desire

and african queens in raging fires

played hopscotch with americans in paris

and the earth stood still and the radios tossed pills

hello young lovers

I wont cry anymore

hello young lovers

I wont cry anymore

It's an old song, talking about old wrongs,

talking about where we belonged on those days

when we got along

It's an old song, talking about old wrongs,

talking about where we belonged on those days

when we got along

I've been the cool daddio

I've been the step back man

I've been the crazy mofo

and in a lonely heart band

skip bouncing sins into the night

1951 was a year of years, alright

1951 was a year of years, alright

taught me how to fear and how to get lost in the midnight.

Short Musings by JD Glasscock

An old man on a river of regret sings out his lament to the croaking of toads and the slow buzz of Dragon flies

Ive fallen to a house at the end of a long road, where miseries and the dreamless go....the lunatics built this place in an age way past when, as the moon had it's birth and the Earth was in the beginning of it's first dirge.....I sat in a parlour with a bar at it's center, mirrors rolling the walls and my thoughts on a bender, and the monster in the story had just begun...

I wrote a pensive story to the woman i loved who had a pension for prayers to above yet left me on an isolated piece of mud...the man in the mirror screamed obscenities so clear and as i slept the nightmares he sowed became so dear...

I now live in this hovel, of endless grovel to clarity and truth sewn in the semblence of lies...I seek a different room in which i can shed my gloom and find my self in the drift of release and churned up story teller sighs....

But the lunatics in the timbers scream out their cinders of ever hateful vision, and it is in their call, i find myself fall and scream " Here's Johnny!" let us begin......this house at the end of a long road is dead

The insomniac in the mirror screams out his fears rolling bones to the syncopated tones of eternity

Riding the ethers in a thermal up draft reaching broken limbs towards the sun, a solemn promise to the requiem of love,a prayer artfully articulated to the empty spaces between God's teeth

humanity
JD Glasscock
JD Glasscock
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JD Glasscock

J.D. Glasscock started as a slam poet on national teams in 1990. Written and Directed 16 Award winning short films...He also has 16 self published books of poetry, lyrics and film.

Owner of StormCrow Productions

See all posts by JD Glasscock