I found a troll...

So my co-workers friend has a son with down's syndrome. He's 19 and is fine at home by himself, so one day he was calling both his parents at work all day saying he caught a troll. Both parents are busy at work, so they are like "sure son, I'll look at it when I get home." His mother gets home and he is all kinds of excited, "I caught a troll mom, come and see!" So he walks her back to his room and there is something in the closet banging around. He has barricaded the closet door with chairs and everything else in his room. Not knowing what to expect, his mother opens the door, and a very angry, flustered midget pops out. I guess he was a door-to-door Jehovah-witness salesman. True story.

Amerika

The countrysides on fire
the sea is thick with salty glory
and swells with pride,
every person is hitchhiking
everyone needs a ride.
On the sides buildings lick the clouds
stuck in the middle mountains are long
surrounded by flats
the opinions are loud,
no one owns cats.
Dogs work for dinner
and deer are never winners
living on seasonal cycles
while the air gets thinner.
Cities glow with violent light
giving the heavens above
the gift of sight.
Angels and demi-gods fight
for majority vote
like little kids with cards in their bicycle spokes
Pretending to have singular, universal dreams
laced with prejudice and motives unseen.
Slicing trees predicts the future
while secretly planning exploits
of crusade-esque blights
running like roaches when you turn on the lights.
A border of twisted vines
skeletons and sands of time,
vast indifference no longer a sin,
Keeping people out?
Or locking us in?
Modern whiskey, the beverage of gladiators ,
rogues and gunslingers of old
like most of us
it won't do what it's told.
More than sailors rule the ports;
Not fishermen of a sorrid sort.
Artisans, craftsmen and visionaries
design their own resorts
getaways turned into towns.
The king must eventually turn in the crown,
while another promises to turn things around.
We watch for four years as the
apples turn moldy and brown;
but the farmers raise honest crops
to testify when the dirt is on trial,
maybe we all just need to stop and think
every once in a while.

Blended beginnings, puréed endings.

The orchestra planned the whole thing
right from the beginning.
trust in the situation began to waver
Taking a thousand years(to ants)
to regain its flavour,
I did not savour it long enough the 1st
or even the 3rd time,
Like a genius that doesn't know how to dress itself(Asexual)
or billionaires that refuse to spend their vast amounts of wealth,
things are fundamentally flawed when Michael Jackson puts himself
back on the shelf.
But things work out
they have to
always will,
Not forced optimism
but an enigmatic prism
of opportunity
Dispersing light made of ingenuity .
Play me off the stage
and I'll be happier with age,
My burning rage lit this torch
and I'm going to carry it
to the wisest sage I know
Lighting the way with constructive anger
Build a temple to worship everyone
and no one at all,
Violins always playing upbeat fiddle music,
not sappy sounds for cruise ships,
the way monks practice being kind
as to never loose it.
No one was framed here,
in a picture or behind bars,
unless you you count records
locked in the trunk
of a 70s muscle car
All in good condition
which means they were unloved.
Yes the orchestra acted alone,made that call,
The orchestra planned it, started it all.
Unwitting masterminds to an extraordinary degree,
the music saved my life but there's an everlasting fee,
I have no choice but to sell chunks of me.
The music however is a different story,
Music finished it, the kill was slow, painful and gory.

Kowboys and Injuns.

Too wrapped up in others affairs

I forgot happiness can be a comfy chair;

Quit talking so much before I charge you for air.

This demented cowboy's gonna ride off into the sunset

Never look back, and stick it to the man with a rusty bayonet.

This is one spider you let pass

Thrown outside aided by paper and glass

She'll eat insects for another day

(insert british accent here)A pleasantly 'orrible masquerade

and the first time I'm caught without a mask,

would a shot and a smoke be too much for this lone ranger to ask?

I am told yes

and even though I don't care about agreement

I find myself distressed.

My muse isn't mine to have

and a part of me is glad to put it all to rest.

Skipped fall and the better part of winter.

This is the only Poem I wrote the year before last, at around this time.

Permanent frost settles
as desert wind embezzles
time as it stops in a triple-lateral back-flip
in an ice tray that refuses to melt
but chills to the smooth tones of Crosby, Stills, Nash
and sometimes Young.
What is being done
to the space my mind used to be,
the vacuum there sucks up internet ads
Put there for me but they don't know the searches were random,
A tandem jump into the surreal world.
Sonuvabitch though, someone's always watching
sitting in my smoke alarm or pocket.
I should get advice from Stephen Hawking
to turn whatever responsibility I have into a black-hole
with icicles
Cold, Numb, can't tell I can't feel anymore
doesn't matter its for the birds
which I can't stand
avian prejudice must be heard.
Eternal icy discharge falls from the sky
into both eyes
which poke forth from beneath the sand
The new-age afterbirth is at hand
to eat babies not fetuses
Kill Santa Claus and social-security
Promote nationalism and poison, minority stereotypes
convert them all into megabytes.

Don't think I don't know...

Laying in a Dentist's chair at another's mercy.
Comfort, air and water must be too much to ask.
As I sleep in broken glass
dreaming of stained robberies
I eat thieves alive like hoards of zombies.
You stole my wit!
Made it a prison out of shit
and there's only one-ply toilet paper,
I have my right to battle the master-shaper.
Molding wigs out of light-bulbs
is the brightest idea to bald men scared of the dark.
My closet is too full to hide monsters
so they stand in plain sight
Showering those who listen
with mighty and terrible undead insight,
The things I hear erode the night
chipping away my helpless state.
The gas turns up, all I can do is watch...

Internet.

Irreversible copies that cannot be explained
made by the deranged cloning of a mad-genius.
Damned if there's a way
to access the misplaced island.
Understand this and this alone,
Bones salt the earth with innumerable waste
A recipe that is add to taste
A bland dish at best
covered in bear mace.
All the skulls are the same
Forensic tests blame faulty equipment,
But true-believers know
Out of one seed many plants will grow.
Looks will only get you as far as the burning sun,
which melts faces and destroys everyone,
Giving life from afar
Taking it away
when you see it's scars.
Stars have no prejudice
and cannot be bribed,
But nothing to worry about
If your gears spin right on the inside.
Pride, a fools errand ran by a man playing god,
Igniting existence flipping switches and knobs,
Making everyone the same is a tough job.