He heard that the zoo was for sale;
a donkey and tiger he'd 'nail':
'I want' - to the lass -
'your pussy and ass!'
(And that's why he's banged up in jail...)
i argue
and place a honey dipped finger
on your mouth
shh baby
a snatched back
consequence
look at me straight on
am i easy?
I’m not a one way ticket
I’m a hard earned dollar
but you pull the trigger
and hold the bullet
consider it
between your skinny
sweet fingers
then tuck it in your pocket
my mouth is always smoking
like a ‘67 tempest
picking at the holes in my
t-shirt
barefoot and grinning
getting sand in your seats
i don’t know the reason
i don’t know the answer
but nothing is make believe
i’m on your shoulder
crying for the state
of my salvation
the edge of my wisdom
i eclipse my own youth
with a pulled down
banged up
rattle can sort of
voice
i don’t want it
but it won’t leave
corral me in your little
heart
where i can sleep and get better
than i ever was
10 no’s
1 yes
pretty tough odds
i’ll bet you anything
i won’t go home
i did have to comb
what had been left of my dome
while i would be home
had been lead astray
God told us we should obey
Use underarm spray
much sugar with spice
had been found in paradise
without sin or vice
with great precision
biden did make decision
need more religion
rather than trashing
biden gave out compassion
which he would ration
when in pinch would feel
needed to have sex appeal
biden be big deal
we know God is wise
and have heard to our surprise
bible did devise
God would break the code
our sins were a heavy load
make sure lawn is mode
(gifts on us bestowed)
after taking knap
God said we should cut the crap
also shut big trap
God gave me big broom
so i could sweep off my tomb
flowers bloom by bloom
when in chair would sit
by lightening bolt had been hit
needed first aide kit
saw banged up fender
had been made by male gender
quite a big bender
I sit watch want to weep
seeing you sitting on the street
with cane made of wood
hand carved not very good
a banged up sign in hand
sitting unable to stand
cars just pass you by
my heart wants to cry
no one worrying how you fare
a world that does not care
two cigarettes in a empty hat
hair tangled in a mat
you sit wish me well
as you sit for a spell
a homeless man down on his luck
hoping to get even a buck
i took him coffee wished him well
he was grateful I could tell.
I took a chance,
that you would be the one
my banged up heart
beating new beats
life flows in through windows
and doors
long closed
love peeks through mirrored lenses
asking me if I feel lucky
well do I??
yes...yes I do
On the run, again
Being chased by rogue police
I got to protest
That I’m innocent
I’m a law-abiding criminal
I mean citizen
On the last exit to wonderland
I ended up all banged up in hospital
After this constant battle
With guns and knives
Another one bites the dust
On my hospital bed, I’m reminiscing
Of how many friend’s I lost
To this urban war
I thank God
That I don’t drink Bourbon anymore
Side effects lets me land face first on the floor
So, that chapter of my life I had to close the door
I’m currently checking my final score
I’m not going back to the lab again
I went from vegetable to a surgical guinea pig
Talk about Frankenstein’s worse nightmare
I’m out again now you can stop and stare…
I have been in your prisons
I played the game
I know about loneliness
I felt the pain
Being banged up, 23 hours a day
This is good for no-one
It can drive you insane
The strong will live
And the weak can die
You say its rehabilitation
I know that is a lie
Men getting bullied, the strong will survive
You did not brake me
I will not die
where is the job
As I now want to work
But no-one wants criminals
I now feel a jerk
Kids need to learn before its to late
As I wish I had when I walked out the gate
life is a struggle, it really is rough
But I should have thought about that, when I thought I was tough
FATHER
Which love is not a struggle to the mind?
Tis easier to think love glides along,
regardless of a road not there to find,
or never caring what is right or wrong.
One love, of child, a father's steady hand,
protecting innocence, through many years
as if he knew the way, and had it planned,
to heal each mortal wound as it appears,
as if all things begin with his okay,
the good, the joy of life to build upon;
demanding right, and hoping in some way
he's always with you, even when he's gone.
The banged up knee, your losing of a friend,
are yours to feel, but his to comprehend.
© ron wilson aka veebdosa the doylestown poet
FATHER
Which love is not a struggle to the mind?
'tis easier to think love glides along,
regardless of a road not there to find,
or never caring what is right or wrong.
One love, of child, a father's steady hand,
protecting innocence, through many years
as if he knew the way, and had it planned,
to heal each mortal wound as it appears.
As if all things begin with his okay,
the good, the joy of life to build upon;
demanding right, and hoping in some way
he's always with you, even when he's gone.
The banged up knee, your losing of a friend,
are yours to feel, but his to comprehend.
© RON WILSON AKA VEE BDOSA
O great encompasser
of the three AM world
and the boundless countryside,
where the wind sprints gently
shedding its high heels,
I wish you would come more often,
to rest a weightless hand
on a banged up shoulder,
and to plant a tender kiss
on a pale grizzled cheek
ripped raw by the winter wind.
A mute descending avalanche
to drown the car horns, the obscenities, the talk shows,
with all united under a single banner,
One that needs no name no color no country,
only to be embraced for what it is,
the rarest of all treasures, the soundless.
Return to me now, voiceless friend.
I could use your wisdom,
and your brotherly embrace.
But it seems you visit most
with those who roam after death,
your dearest, best-listening friends.
As a good gardener would do,
she had to evaluate the quality of her trees plants and fruit,
She saw that some were rotten; they had spoiled at the root.
Unforgivness and resentment suffocated her delicate tree,
It was time to prune the essences of it in its entirety,
Finding the initial cause was how she would now prepare,
Going a little deeper into the earth that had many layers.
From the time this tree was a seed,
It had glitches, cracks and lived amongst weeds,
Perhaps damaged from the packaging
Or banged up through the sifting
Causing some deformities and in need of some spiritual lifting.
Resenting the other trees,
For they were far more stunning than thee,
This garden had suffered through many damaging storms,
Causing animosity that took on different shapes and forms,
sometimes her fruit seemed a bit bitter and irate
Forgiveness was the only cure to transform this ugly hate.
Sniping away at what was easy for her eyes to see,
Then changing the soil all together to make it once again healthy
For in a season or two, what all this work would do
Would allow this trees fruit to look and be brand new.
By: sabina Nicole
Contest: secondhand emotion
Written: 1-14-12
The more I think about this strife
The more I want to take his life
Some sickening, evil, hellish brute
Returned to his primal roots
And every step that he will take
His humanity shall forsake
God help him if we cross
For I’ll make him atone for our loss
Enraged and blind, there is no pain
There’s only solace to be gained
Now he’s Abel and I’m Cain
He won’t breathe again, can’t breathe again, won’t breathe
The only mistake that God has made
And on his grave the sun shall fade
He’s declared war and soon he’ll know
That we never walk alone
He must have suicidal whims
Even without his intentions
To kick us while we’re on the ground
Dirt isn’t all that’s down
I’m wide awake and I thirst for blood
Nothing satisfies like a flood
I’ll turn this ground into red mud
Breathe…
I don’t care if I’m just as bad as he
I’m already banged up mentally
My vengeance is all I can see
He won’t breathe again, can’t breathe again, won’t breathe.
He had come in all banged up.
I normally lust after the tall ones, and he is relatively short --
Having just returned from a weekend of Mixed Martial Arts,
His left eye was swollen.
He had a bruise across his right cheek bone. But he was smiling.
He was smiling, and happy, and kind, and gentle,
brought in freshly made frittatas:
“You know he’d do it.
“But Katie’s a nice woman. She really is a great woman.
I love her. I absolutely love her.”
I want him to slam me against the bathroom wall,
tear off my clothes,
restrain my arms and have his way with me.
It would be so easy.
So easy for such a quick, cheap thrill.
It is winter, after all
(Too cold for roller coasters).
I roll it around, taste it on my tongue.
“Oh,that Katie, you would love her. I miss her. She’s just the happiest, cutest little thing”
I’m too old for that. I’m thirty now. I have morals now. I have morals.
I tell her so,
Tell her! --
Tell her I have morals! --
I finger his card in my Rolodex,
Make note of the ten-digit number.
Myriad end users round the globe
Chat rooms occupied – users at throb
Kinky creative thoughts on age no bar
Sex should be feminine but the location should not be far –
Messenger on buzz – Alas!
Aah! ‘PING’ came upon and banged up on his luck.
First few formalities – schooling, hobbies and passions were out pouring
Awhile later that too became boring –
He went on his way on her looks –
Said to be, she is beautiful.
Curious his mind – in doubt if she is committed
As told by her – she is single.
He showed some ways of his personal magnetism
That mulled over her for some sensualism –
Followed by few chit-chats for couple of hours
And when the time came to exchange their numbers
He promised he would surely call her by midnight –
He was shocked, he was enraged, he was mad
When he found – after he called
The voice over the phone sounded a man’s.
My dreams, my love, my hope could have all died.
My laugh, my cries, with little white lies.
That day could have been my last, leaving with no goodbyes..
The reck made me terrified,
I laid in that hospital bed, there was when i realized.
My mistakes, my fears, i began to cry.
I could have died.... but with all the fear i had, someone showed me it wasnt my time..
Now i wonder, what would have been said, if that day would have been the end.
I now realize i was so lucky and blessed, to be writing this poem,
and living the rest......
Note: Saturday i was in a car reck and i could have died if we would have got hit on the door
but i was so lucky cause God was watching over me.... I did so many things wrong and
reality hit me... literally hit me.. I had to ride in the ambulance and the driver my ex step
dad we think was stoned and b.c of that and not watching i may not have been here today to
write this poem.... This is what i feel.. But im banged up right now and thats about it.. Thank
you for reading this..
Yours Truly.....
-Elizabeth
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