Michael Gale Poems

As the Swan song'd father beat it's breast....
Strike the main sail-bold of test.
Hasn't thy verbaged, done as told? ...
Like'nd the rest....Of ancient old.
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Yes-fair maiden, 'pon yon voyage...
diss dem people torn from hell.
Why sense evil from afar? ...
Git right back inside thy car.
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Sweet, sweet sorrows of bemoanments...
Allocate my love for peaced allotments.
Herald my secret crest...
Harden and coddle my tempest's breast.
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I awaken from rocking bed...
I awaken to a sledge-hammered head.
Iron's in fires too many...
Burn't too long, to a well, remembered song.
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Go have a brew...
Or not too few.
Go and annoint the pain away...
Go and ang'st the heart stain to sway.
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Death does travel down deeply into my nest...
A resting peace, one welcoming best.
Be ever thy bravely silent...
Mayhaps thy eye is bent as struck.
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Lip's textured radiance of thee....
Shinn'th thy most, just for me.
The redness glares light, blinding per sight...
Your love for me, gives a happiness, that delights.
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I hate and detest hotdogs of the human kind...
They seem to have a low content's of the brainaged mind.
They appear to be forever cursed, to be loud mouthed show-oafs...
These people are not hard working, but are lazy and constantly meat headed loaf's.
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A chessful piece, to and fro'...
Which way placed, to show the go.
Upon thy board of chekered white and black...
Dictates a horse or queen.
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This rosely thorn born of heartbreak's trials...
Begets heated sorrow of heart's denials.
Send breathless love in heated signals...
For the morrow of decadent greet.
...