Monday, May 16, 2011

A Crush

Alright, I admit. My crush is for Him.
Why not? It's the first one my family can't rot.
Up to me, my decision. To choose not a pigeon.
Has been a rough patch,
I'm caught.

He is a Man I won't meet; Impossible feat!
The safety of which felt so neat.
He cannot go cheat! Disappointing me; reap.
So clarity finds that Blunt is a relief.

From Family attacks, of sisters that rack,
any man, any guy that I might.....; Flee!
Each one that I met, was just their next bet,
of how long it took to bed him; Accept.

So, I did give it up. It was not my cup,
of tea, or coffee or sup.
One day I did hear, five years ago Dear,
a song that annoyed me so much.

Oh Beautiful rang, again and you sang,
of perfume I wear, I give up!
Este Lauder named fragrance,
that I did wear only, for year, upon years, I erupt!

Who is this man?
He is singing with band,
a song of mine to annoy?
Why did you rip off, the name it's a Tip off,
of what to do next, I declare!

I did not know your fame,
for it just came to name,
a Wedding Song? I replied in my hide.
No!! A Funeral Tune, Oh yes, it's full of gloom.

On did I trudge, through the store, didn't budge,
before I did claim your CD.
Low and behold, your name did not hold,
a memory of fame that I knew.

Excitement, I roared, inside I was bored,
I listened to it straight on through.
Again and again, a month spent on him,
to annoy the man in my home who would not move.

Freedom did come, my sister did run,
to aid me in the latest removal of him.
Mistake did she make, when she hit her take,
on someone that simply wasn't him.

Again, I did shout, "Get back!," I do doubt,
that this is the man for you to demand.
Now present at large, was one at no charge,
but anger did fill that sweet day.

I laughed and I played, that CD away,
she raged down beneath such display.
But onwards we marched, across the sweet marsh,
landing in Texas, Oh May.

Wrong time it was, she left me because,
dear Bluntie was still on display.
At stores, that would bore,
I had to abhor, my sister left me for Jamie's repore.

In the middle of no where,
I sat and I said,
"You've got to be kidding, its clear."
On "My Space" I saw, Bluntie's favorite hooray,
oh Beautiful sang it was clear.

There were songs that did play,
his face on display,
of all that this girl did fear.
I thought to myself,
oh,my, I did stealth,
a joke on a guy that I hear.

I thought it might pass, but to my aghast,
my other sister did near.
Again there goes Bluntie, upon what is funny,
Help Me! I'm laughing, oh DEAR.

My family is crazy, they do what to me? their lazy.
Go find your own man,
or your own CD plan.
But release my dear Jamie,
He isn't so plainly,
the guy that I'll meet in this year.

On went this insanely, for months I did jeer.
Please, find repose, I insist this, this year!
Oh NO, it got worse, I found I was cursed,
by a guy that rehearsed in a bathroom, not Hearst.

Although I was glad,
that my Soul Mate did have,
a problem with toilets and sinks.
I found that he copied,
my ways I did think; the obvious became so clear.

I kept right on walking, without me talking,
to watch how badly this seared.
The ones that thought,
I would near this man who is singing this year.

Don't you wonder, why they plunder,
on a guy I simply revered.
Almost to day, a five year tape,
of life that we're living not near.

Back to my story, for it is the glory,
of forgiveness and trouble I see.
I met a guy in random reply,
on notes to a dungeon, first year.

I took the date, for I wanted no rape,
at a place that Bars were a fear.
So off we did go, on that night I did show,
that Bluntie was the force of the year.

I thought it would work,
 to free me from quirks,
of men I felt sad for each year.
It simply must be the Blunt Force to thee.

Using again, what became a dear friend,
it did not work and I fuddled the gear.
This jealousy witnessed,
I had to be fitness,
for fucking got boring; a tear.

Dear friend I don't know,
a ready reply flowed,
on Internet access and safety he showed.
No response ever, no meeting was planned,
it's over, I'll move on from here.

Now I was stuck, in a bit of muck,
the shit did pile way up.
But, the teasing was clearly,
so pleasing and weirdly,
I think I did fall for this game.

However I thought, I just couldn't stop,
the morass of the illness was like.
They're jealous of all, you may have to fall,
for sisters did claim,
 we're Angels of Lear.

Such command of a Man,
that is free of this hand,
it's poker, I'm betting the band.
Everyone was on stage for the plan.

I had to stop writing, my written reverse,
I erased and deleted my words.
Treated with wishes of Lords and the like,
I trucked it all off in only one night.

The website did close,
the rules of repose,
didst change the way it did write.
I felt bad and uptight!
I got kicked off of J.B.'s site,
somehow I felt it was right.

Oh Well, it's not mine,
it's the Blunt Force behind.

A total truth would be,
a fight you see,
between what she said to me.
Blogging is difficult,
when you come from a cult,
and anger or rage you may see.

Innocent Me!!

I did retreat, for Billy declared,
I was a menace to the closed society,
of the Bluntie Board web site and more.

So off I went, in a huff that's not tough,
I'm free from all blame of thee.
(My dear Jamie)
Why use his name,
when it's just a game,
to catch my dear sisters in sheer.

That plainly play on my life,
with real proposed strife,
to kill me in Spirit and Soul.

Now I did come up missing,
my Heart did some glistening,
in another I found myself sound.

What a disaster,
I fell for a pastor,
of song and prose of the know.
Get out I did say, my heart its away,
give what is mine, did you find it Bluntie that's coming from behind?

Now do we applaud,
what was simply a nod,
a game to find out the truth about,
a family's reprise on the one with no eyes,
that is me.

For I never was, made 'ware of the joke,
that seemed to be happening back there.
A scapegoat I was,
it's my fault, I accept,
it's my job since whenever, who cares?

Why would I object?
I didn't know till five years ago, 
that all the disaster of family I held.

Unaware of my plight,
I take some delight,
in ignorance of mind; it's alright.
To not point the finger,
without factual ringer,
to bell with the sound of I might.

So, Mr. Blunt really,
became what is surely,
a knight in armor so bright.
Protecting a girl with a problem in Worlds,
of Family, and Sisters and Friends.

The laughter for them,
still doesn't end,
but in the here-after,
where funeral are nigh,
the voice that you'll hear cannot be denied.
The sound of a Muse is not I.

I've got two weeks,
to be what is weak,
on streets and in lines,
for cots and the signs,
to sleep the night for free.

It's all so exhausting,
this girl that is tired,
of all the ones,
that make her run,
accept the guy that is truly so fun.

Thanks for the show,
for I really do know,
we'll never meet, it's a "no go" to speak.
For Twin Souls are very simply a no.

Can I have my heart,
not on a chart,
just release what did start,
for a Man and this Tart.

No reply needed,
it's an address of the treated,
so cruelly and without what is right.
But it is my Life, and I do not mind,
the walk to the ones below,
they are tight.

So, 666 says, "Good Nite!" 
to find love.
It is just like a glove,
that hits you into a plight.

The pain of which is not for me,
to real, to long, I'm tired, I'm wrong.
To know what is right,
is to stick to the night,
where I scream in my mind,
for a door from behind,
to open and show,
a day without terror and smite.

Karen A. Placek 

The Isle Of Crete

Do Kangaroo's hop to you?
Does such a shot make, HIP,HOP?
Singing 'round the World,
is exhaustion ever found?

You look at words in written verse.
I wonder what you're thinking? Curse?
Compassion, curious or just plain purse,
is it money? or is it funny?

I watch as you do. No Heart of Gold, resides.
Copy words in memories guise,
is weirdness or another course.
To close, we travel nice.

The strange repore can be ignored,
if me and you look wise!
It is the mount, that may recount,
should people push these lies?

To stay at the Bay, my City it's true.
The birth records my stay.
So dear friend of, the County Upton,
this is not New England's way.

An Island shore, of North repore,
is where you hail not.
For Spanish days are long in May,
and call you home today.

This is the best direction of,
a man that's on display.
Turn right, not left, go straight away,
to home on the Isle's Crete.

Karen A. Placek

Girl Of The Pew

You sing at funerals.
I write of death.
It is such a bummer,
we have not met.

I will be older,
so you will not die.
Men go so much younger,
while girls do not fly.

I won't be without you,
are age doth does match.
A young man with feeling,
sex might be best.

So, let us not meet.
Let dreams become wet!
Laughter is better,
fantasy won't let!!

It's fun to be daring,
free from all sin.
Happiness from freedom,
of nothing that's been.

Cheer on all your memories,
write from within.
Deliver the treasure,
of measure not men.

Hypocrites will listen,
to lies of the few.
Will you be the witness,
to the girl on the pew?

Karen A. Placek

Innocence Declared

I am tired of screaming,
let alone all the dealing.
Preach not your delight,
for it is not my light.

Religion is proclaiming,
and God is your aiming.
Belief is not blaming,
a structure, some training.

Creation dualed breath,
whilst life sought whats met.
In between its a giver,
not Lords, best go hither.

Exhausted from fight,
from birth, was not right.
Mother filled with such hatred,
daughter moved and just might.

Jamie makes me laugh,
Sesame Street, such a trap!
A Triangle Regime,
not a circle or a wrap.

He sings not a loop.
He gives me no favor.
A Twin Soul won't leap,
our Hearts cannot meet.

Strength doth declare,
and not on its knees.
No God, No Command!
Innocence is at hand!

Karen A. Placek

Blunt Force

Demons come out,
when death is about.
No reason for fear,
if real is near.

Your Court date is set,
in depth of your net.
How much do you charge?
To lie while at large.

It's not what you say,
for that will give way,
to spirits of treason,
that feel the season.

Be scarce if the terror,
reaches down to touch where.
The bog is not well,
and the fen will be; Tell.

Contracts of thoughts,
noise of the bought.
Cost me to much,
in gold, it's abrupt.

Sold while I slave,
sleep while I wave.
Tired I save,
loosing what I made.

Told from my zero,
you will not be a hero.
Satan's Spawn is your mire,
you will be my retire.

My soul she did buy,
with the blood of the guy,
that signed for my life.
In contracts of strife.

My eyes do not close,
as I can repose.
The verse of the nurse,
as the demons rehearse.

A play or a roll,
will not make you whole.
For the truth of soul,
is the Blunt Force of Old.

Karen A. Placek

The Wild

A continent away,
I feel the sway.
Let go the throttle,
and feel the rot.

No Orgy will bind,
the mind of the bound.
Only filth of the words,
with the birds around.

Be careful my friend,
for women will round.
Make a circle, a coven.
To cook you; an oven.

Sing not what collects,
but what shall connect.
Not you, not me,
for we don't make tea.

Look hard in depth,
study not what you've wept.
Write words to a tune,
that will sight you a Moon.

Richness is felt,
when the wealthy do welt.
For the Metals are real,
won in Wars of the past.

Attacked in the park,
it was no lark.
Assigned to the one,
it is time to run.

The pain is to real,
to where what I feel,
is not what I want,
I feel the taunt.

Better off dead,
is not in my head.
This they do chant,
my family they rant.

Passion in your song,
even though you are gone.
Speaking so plainly,
its rough and its training.

The tears that don't flow,
gives strength to my anger.
For rage is my fun,
the Wild is done!!

Karen A. Placek

Terror As Fear

Death is sharp.
Funerals real.
Buried deep,
it is surreal.

Do not frown,
walk on in town.
Smile failed,
you have been nailed.

No cross is needed,
a trial not had.
Death Court closed,
as it should have.

While you wait,
impatience, Hate!
Homeless bound,
I have no sound.

Exhaustion sets in.
Breathing made hard.
I accept my shroud,
for in death there is no crowd.

My fight is long,
since birth, First Year.
No love is known,
no home, no dome.

My origin claims,
I am not ordained.
My family's wealth,
is not mine to well.

My life, my love,
is not my need.
My crime to date,
my birth; no rape.

Lost my luster,
lost my will.
To live in peace,
prepare below.

I bow to none,
I rise to all!
Exhaustion beats me,
friendship burns.

Loneliness is my cross,
sadness my nails.
Terror is the rope,
as fear hangs me.

Karen A. Placek


The mystery of the survival of a Malignancy.
Why do the children of;  Heard from?
We carry enormous burdens around,
our backs are sore, our minds bound.

The ones we know start church's that are cults.
Sex is the main topic of all the dolts.
They sit in front of the crowd and announce,
how it is only them, no other, no contact outside, they trounce.

They are the only ones that can forgive, they say.
They are the only ones that know,
if you can stay or if you can go.
Held over your head like a giant show.

Stanley Kubrick made, "Eyes Wide Shut,"
A true account of odd memories,
do they do the things you see?
Or do they only need?

My mother started her con in 1970,
its been going long ever since.
I have been silenced ever by,
Fear of Death, Fear of Fear, just terror is near.

I would like to speak to what is real.
Testify to what is good.
Remembering why I should,
not hurt, but  be strong and straight; don't hate.

Crookedness ran rampant then,
on days, on nights where horror replied,
"if you talk, we will kill you,"
"if you talk, we will deny."

Karen A. Placek