Unloved...
Reasons known...
Unmoved...
Who cares?
My soul others own,
stole or gave away?
Who dares?
Truth smeared
in life’s needs.
Lies reared
and Feared.
Do, I must
Caesar’s deeds.
Giving Caesar what is his.
Temples again, filled with money changers:
US, always in search of Gold;
And, lotteries.
Bills paid. Responsibilities
met. Nothing left.
Things. Things. And, More things bought.
Treasured stored where?
What price the soul?
Never again to trust.
Baskets in the reeds.
My Heart,
Oh, so full of rust.
But, I ride on....

The Harley Black,
and Orange,
dressed in Chrome bright,
I ride, A ride named Keats...
For to ride,
always, what is right.
The sound under me,
Roars and Terrors Galore...
The power, the lust, like my love.
Like my thrust. Like my dreams.
No patch on my back.
I follow the light.
No flag to pledge.
Riding the range,
along the ledge
always on the edge. Alone.
Never backing away
I, from a fight..
But, I ride on.

All must bury the past, in the cemetery of our brains.
But, I ride on....

A steed of Steel,
A ride of truth, My ride,
a sled of dreams, riding...
Thinking of what is real.
And, where to eat my
next Meal. Alone.
A Latina? Dark and Golden love...
Texas food,
Hot and spicy,
like the love I seek.
Not wanting a woman who
is meek,
Do I.
But, I ride on...

A cowboy
by no means
upon my Iron Horse
dreaming of
whores I have known.
Christians All.
Of, blow jobs past.
Not here, some bitch’s toy...
Ahh, to again be blown,
licked and smiling like a clown.
then, never on my face
a frown.
But I ride on...

In a world
where life has no meaning,
and death is a true reward.
Wondering if life is Just God’s dream....
I be...
I ride on...

Been told once,
"there’s more beauty in the truth
even if it is a dreadful beauty."
Knowing Eden is East, I listen...
But, I ride on...

Only fear and love there is, I hope, I fear.
I am terrified to see how much of my life, is touched with yours.
With such quickness my soul is pulled to you;
Is pulled into your heart.
And, I have not even touched you yet.
But, I ride on...

Of my Black Heart,
Do I sing...
for, I know you are there.
Somewhere’s...
Pain gotten
to an art,
Hatred has that ring,
feelings rotten,
they say I should share. Talk, they relay.
Fuck them All...I say.
Left wingers, right wingers,
one and the same, stealing choices..
Stealing dreams. Harming all
by judging all.
My pain,
Their gain.
My song,
They are wrong.
My rain.
Tears do stain.
Lessons learned
and yet repeated.
But, I sing,
my pain,
riding along the cane,
a poem,
a ditty,
thinking of your titties...
But, I ride on.

God’s voice in my ear.
But, will I hear?
What burden to bear...
Will I care?
Will you listen?
Will I share?
Are you there?
Do I dare?
But, I ride on...

Imagery is for the sight unseen;
places never been,
pictured words;
the dreams it holds belong
solely to the rider of the unknown.
But, I ride on...

Tis’ true, A dream is an
answer to our question we have not yet asked.
But, I ride on...

Why do I ride?
They ask
those who have never
heard God’s sweet words.
Or...Felt the sunlight
and bugs on their faces.
Those with rat race traces.
Ask, why the child smiles.
Before asking me about the miles.
Ask me, why the sun also rises,
before you ask me more
about my vices.
O Blue Bonnets, Bloom.
Give me open room.
How to put freedom into words?
A warrior stuck in a land without battles,
nothing but lawyers. A man judged by money and things.
Words, honor cums in last places.
Ever heard the sound of rubber on road?
Emptiness is fine when putting along, for there are no lies in the wind.
No ties that bind.
So, as the button’s say...
"If you have to ask
I cannot explain."
But, have you never
walked in the rain?
Wanted to fly?
Wanted to know your own pain?
Wanted to Cry?
Will they ever?
Will I? Can I? Should I?
A question asked.
But, I ride on.

Scars lie,
But, I ride on...

A putt
down lanes of memory
I ride,
telling my story.
I roll,
my time to bide.
I go
under blue skies,
or,
before the
Texas weather winds
change again,
like
that road around the bend,
I fly...
I trek...
I Harm none...
But, I ride on.

Days of white lines past.
Yes, this will last.
No more do I
feed the
demons from America, South.
Tis’ true no coke
in my mouth. No sniffles. Nose is clean.
My teeth just fine. The bees no longer ring,
power powder no longer brings,
the doubt gone, the shame lost.
Money safe at home.
Sleep gotten.
No smoke in my lungs,
never was weed for me.
No more feeling like dung.
Now, I drink just a little wine.
I just be...
But, I ride on...

Remembering the one
who went away.
No Good-byes...
Just lies.
She knew why Christ died...
so, she could treat me this way.
Sin free now,
coke all gone,
and throwing stones....
She can, you see
washed in the blood and all....
Lessons her mama Taught her.
A life in words only, as most Christians are...
The tree of life, cut down to print books.
Never to practice what is preached.
Organized oppression, against the tongue.
Conceited enough to think God needs them.
The prophets of Ignorance shall dwell in the pits of zero,
the law of three wins again.
Christians, Lovers of death,
Inventors and destroyers of dreams.
Will excute all, but hate abortions
as life belongs to God.
But, I ride on...

So, I ride along
old Galveston Bay. By
The seawall made of stone
like my soul. hardened,
lonely, salt rubbed in...
Hoping to love again to try.
A Pagan sings of the Rede
and the rule of three..
Yet, listen as I cry of Christian sins...
Making me as bad as them..
Oh, I know the Commandments ten
not suggestions be.
Non-conditional are they...
How to teach without Judge?
for I must teach what I most need to learn.
How to learn without hate? With anger off?
How to live without want?
Will they ever watch
for me as I ride?
Always the Devil fault.. Not their job
to hold accountable. Mine is...
But, I ride on...

My boys,
my life,
in another man’s house.
Happiness wins out?
Now, where Mickey Mouse?
Stories told
and believed.
My boys
her toys.
I feel so old.
Not knowing where to fight.
Wondering if I have the right.
Enemies unclear,
Foes hidden...
Twice bitten.
Adam and Eve,
Jewish history,
stories old....
Lies cold....
Shadow books mysteries...
Where the path to Light?
Pain and hate,
People to rate.
sex and cum,
Anger to come.
love and honor,
Friends or loner...
all the same?
On her, Off her...
So me, you can sue...
Is life so tame?
Why, do I feel
no shame?
Wife taken cue...
now, gone.
Love, she needed
I could not give.
God, this is lame.
But, I ride on...

I am...
A Pagan man,
The son of dust...
A man of lust...
One you can trust...
A Ragan fan,
single again and free...
All, I can...
Bridgett believing born...
Her fire still burns within ..
An Irish mans wish...
Bridgett to wed Apollo.
For Apollo does ride,
hot and sure,
on his Golden chariot
with horses four
harnessed abreast,
with me on the floor.
O My Father who Rides in Heaven above.
O, God of Sun and Poetry...
Knower of sorrow
and Pain.
Bro. to Diana,
Death to Python,
Arrows true,
O, God who is never blue.
Ride with me...
Or, me with you...
Be it to
Avalon, or Summerland,
to a land beyond my wildest dreams
or into the depth of my worst nightmares,
I go...
Between reality and fantasy...
But, I ride on...

I Am...
But, I ride on...

I ride on...
Written by...
George "Papa" G. : papagtg@swbell.net