Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes

Photo By: Madamchryzl “Canyon Lake, TX

May the numbness settle back in…

Deadened nerves are what’s left in the end…

Smiles systemically generate…

Flesh can pretend…

I am a robot, nothing here to liberate…

A prisoner of my own crimes, not one statement to defend…

Sentencing from the highest court, I waste no time attempting to deliberate…

Treading water becomes routine when you live in the deep end…


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Tuesday Song-Monophonics “Bang Bang”

Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes

Tuesday Song-Monophonics “Bang Bang”

This song has been done and “re-done” a few times… I do believe I have listened to all the versions and this one just gives it a whole different feel… 😉 In second place would be the very haunting version by Nancy Sinatra done in 1966. 🖤

I was five and she was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
I wore black and she wore white
I would always win the fightBang bang, she shot me down
Bang bang, and I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me downSeasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called her mine
She would always laugh and say
Remember when we used to play?Bang bang, and she shot me down
Bang bang, and I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby…

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Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes

Glimpse Of Something

I imagine The Universe is allowed to make mistakes…

It fixes its own-self and erases the accidents that it makes…

Time and people disappear…

Intangibles we are told to hold dear…

Time is to be kept and glorified with silver and gold bands…

People are bound by ticking of minute hands…

Stories re-written…

Love becomes un-smitten…

People are dismissed…

Lips never kissed…

Moments no longer matter…

Reflections left to scatter…


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Anti-aging cream….Or…. you could just go get older…



    Anti-ageing creams,
    pills and potions,
    anti-ageing masks,
    scrubs and lotions,
    put them on your skin,
    to smooth away the years,
    pat around your eyes,
    your neck up to your ears.
    And don’t forget your hands,
    they will give the game away,
    they show the years you’ve toiled,
    they must be hid away.
    Keep your body trim,
    and the skin must stay elastic,
    if you’ve worshipped too much sun,
    you can always add some plastic,
    but don’t look too ‘worked on’,
    because that’s not seen as right,
    your youth should be all natural,
    you must fight the ageing fight.


    You could just go get older,
    with the lines this life has carved,
    the years you laughed and lived,
    the years you did not starve.
    Ageing is not something,
    that we women should avoid,
    it’s a gift of time and years,
    that not all of us enjoy.
    And Mother Nature…

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    Don’t ever give up. Don’t ever give in.



      Don’t ever give up. Don’t ever give in.
      Don’t ever stop trying. Don’t ever sell out.
      And if you find yourself succumbing to one of the above
      for a brief moment
      pick yourself up, brush yourself off, whisper a prayer
      and start where you left off.
      But never, ever, ever give up.

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      ‘Poetry Partners’ update — The skeptic’s kaddish

      Whispers of a poet's heart

      Just over one month ago, I launched a poetry sharing initiative here at the Skeptic’s Kaddish, called ‘Poetry Partners’. Since then, I’ve been grateful to get many poetry submissions, and more continue to come in. Thus far, at my rate of posting one new Poetry Partner’s poem every Friday, I have had the privilege of […]

      ‘Poetry Partners’ update — The skeptic’s kaddish

      Follow and join this site…

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