Friday, July 22, 2005
Highway Story

The endless serpent midnight
that guides us towards
our chosen futures.
Reconciliation with unforgotten faces
or the winding towards
the resolution of some chaos.
We part through the curtains
of that pungent aroma of the noble creatures
that sacrifice their lives
to feed our children.
Little whitewood homes
whose interiors are ablaze
with a warm and welcoming light.
Each has a family.
Each has a story.
Now we soldier on
in search of a story
to call our own.

Posted at 09:07 pm by lpsage81
10 Holla'd Back  

Sunday, July 17, 2005
Carousel Music

The carousel music played
as she scratched at Bobby's name
that she delicately carved in her arm.
Bobby gave a deep sigh
as he gazed in the eyes
at her platonic crew passing by.
At her urging he promised not to do harm.
His suspicions grew
as she greeted her crew.
He tried to clutch her close to his side.
But she and Jacob embraced
and she kissed the side of his face
to which Bobby tasted disgrace
and his jealousy made moves on his pride.
The oath was undone in his soul
as he took leave of control
and his measure of wrath was displayed
as the carousel music played.

Posted at 06:04 pm by lpsage81
1 Holla'd Back  

Friday, July 08, 2005
Family Tree

My family tree is rooted in abuse
in a garden tended by masichists.
The sun rarely shines here.
The limbs are weakened by apathy.
Only a few loving leaves remain
and good fruit is a rarity.
This tree is an obscurity.
A temporary lodge for vagabond crows.
Around it flows a luscious river
that spills life onto the bank.
Grassblades and cat's tails wave
to the blackened, dying tree
and mock us with their scornful colors.
All the other trees seem so full of spring and life
and they house a complete managerie.
Their fruit is absolute eye candy.
This petrified mopnster does not belong.
No blooms come in the early spring.
The spidery, bare branches are a midnight skeleton.
My tree besmirches this living garden
with its perpetual depression
and we all wait for lightning to strike.

Posted at 12:29 pm by lpsage81
2 Holla'd Back  

Sunday, July 03, 2005
A Thing To Fear

My omnipresence is a thing to fear.
Wherever your foot lands you know I linger near.
There is no whisper I cannot hear.
I'll even invade your dreams.

I'm the unseen directly to your left.
The slightest wind across your neck is my hidden breath.
I'm surrounding you with the ghost of death
and she's holding hands with me.

I'm the force that diffuses terror into your mind.
I intercept your prayers and then laugh with the divine.
Wherever you try to hide I won't be far behind.
I'm the nothing that makes you scream.

I talk with your subconscious just to wound your pride
and fill your mind with imagery of suicide,
There is no refuge in which you're safe to hide
because I am everything unseen.

Posted at 02:14 pm by lpsage81
1 Holla'd Back  

Wednesday, June 29, 2005
I Can't Walk

I can't walk
but you can walk away.
I'm tortured when I breathe
but you can easily breathe
your venomous disease
to any fool who glances down your way.

You're a twisted parasite
who burrows into my punctured skin.
In your own name
you inject me with pain
for the satisfaction of your shallow audience.
Well, two can play that game.

I fight wars to move short distances
but distance is your nature.
Intimacy is a cross you cannot bear.
Just leave me be
to the paradise of agony.
I can rage against the demons that devour me
but I cannot take your brand of despair.

Posted at 02:31 pm by lpsage81
5 Holla'd Back  

Friday, June 24, 2005
Break My Heart

Break my heart.
Remind me I'm living.
Pain is better than nothing.
Pain paves the way to forgiving.

Break my heart,
I focus best in anger.
What is breathing worth
without inhaling some danger?

Break my heart.
Our routine is too flawless.
Let's stir the proverbial waters
while enjoying the process.

Break my heart.
Give me two fates to choose
for the greatest gains are made
when there's nothing to lose.

Posted at 12:36 am by lpsage81
2 Holla'd Back  

Sunday, June 19, 2005
Roads

Fuck a road less traveled.
All roads lead to destiny.
Logic serves as my guide
as I swerve into my legacy.

I'll pause at every sinful detour
and rest with drugs and sex.
The only way to drive is drunk as hell
never fearing what comes next.

My communion chalice is a Dixie cup.
I navigate through innovation.
I'll drive my life with the system up
and enjoy my inebriation.

Posted at 03:19 pm by lpsage81
3 Holla'd Back  

Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Moonman

Moonman! Moonman!
Bringeth forth your light.
We've seen the darkness long enough.
Penetrate the night.

Sprinkle sparkles on the city
for every eye to see.
Sing an invitation into your world
where you dance with all divinity.

Hand the children words of wisdom
and help consciousness expand.
Heal us with the magic touch
of one friendly sequined hand.

We rejoice and sing your angelic melodies.
All ages, races emerge to hear.
You exalt us to a higher place
because you drive away the fear.

Moonman! Moonman!
Bringeth forth your light.
Navigate explosive clouds.
Penetrate the night.

Let the angels play in your majestic kingdom
and illuminate us with imagination.
Forgive us for our invasive gaze.
We're lost in fascination.

Eliminate borders with your faith in love.
Compose wonders for our dreams and memories.
Vulnerability has empowered you.
You are the gift of remedy.

We will march in nonviolent armies
as prophecy unfurls.
Every soul will hold a morsel of your light...
the light that heals the world.

Moonman! Moonman!
Bringeth forth your light.
Guide us by way of song and dance.
Penetrate the night.


Dedicated to Michael Jackson. For my column on MJ's innocence see sage etc.

Posted at 05:20 pm by lpsage81
3 Holla'd Back  

Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Everything's Evil

One more day.
One more cry.
One more regret.
One more high
to blaze the trail of perpetual monotony.

One more enigma.
One more moon.
One more sign
of impending doom
that carries on my legacy of ignored prophecy.

One more look.
One more rumor.
One more insult
sans original humor.
Everything's evil and mankind is a ransom.

One more judgement.
One more storm.
One more malediction
in predictable form
as we sleepwalk on the endless random.

Posted at 02:45 pm by lpsage81
3 Holla'd Back  

Sunday, June 05, 2005
Get Back

Dustin is a mack so tried and true.
He'll meet some dame and try to screw.
Even caught a dime or two.
Get back, player.
Get back.

There was one named Eden who was foul as hell.
Her feet were packin' a satanic smell
but Dustin fell into her spell.
I said get back, player.
Get back.

There was Erica who has these bee-stung lips
who lies and steals and pulls anger trips
but she managed to have Dustin whipped.
I said get back, player.
Get back.

Then there's Elissa who is bi and all.
She'll slap your face and strike your balls.
Still yet Dustin tries to call.
I said get back, player.
Get back.

Sierra came and Dustin drooled.
He tried his best to act cool
but she left him hangin' like a fool.
I said get back, player.
Get back.

See, Sierra's small but her attitude's immense.
Her wannabe mom trained her to be dense.
Dustin loves a girl with no common sense.
I said get back, player.
Get back.

Now there's Froggywho is pregnant, right?
Dustin tells me still her body's tight
and she talks dirty and loves to bite.
I said get back, player.
Get back.

Dustin say "Be with me because
I'll raise your kid and give you my love.
So, let me suck them tits before the baby does."
She said "Get back, player.
Get back."

Posted at 09:29 pm by lpsage81
1 Holla'd Back  


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"Hang yourself, poet, in your own words. Otherwise, you are dead." -Langston Hughes

Sage is a young poet from Indiana who has overcome poverty, a broken home and a rare and incurable genetic disorder. He wrote and published his first poem at age ten and since has created more than 400 pieces. In addition, Sage has written and recorded rap songs, has created short stories, and does pencil sketches. Sage enters college this fall and plans to study journalism.



for information on the disease sage survives with please visit: www.cgd.org/uk


please visit The Children's Inn website for information on this exceptional charity service that has served not only sage but several families who visit The National Institutes of Health for treatment of their respective illnesses.

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Please read the October 1994 GQ article The Untold Story by Mary Fischer which details the conspiracy to frame Michael Jackson in 1993


For more opinions and other musings check out Sage Etc.
The lastest post: Michael Jackson Is Vindicated...The System Works.


***all poetry and opinions are the sole property of matthew wright a.k.a. sage. any use of any portion of this site without consent of sage is unauthorized.***

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