Best Barreled Poems
(just kidding, maybe should be titled: H to O)
career plan
He wants to be a pool boy
sitting round the pond
with a leather-tan employer
wearing nothing but her blonde.
when too little is not enough
He wanted to be a pool boy
so he wore a string.
She fired him ‘cause it covered
just one tiny thing.
The rebel who came to town
In search of inner peace
She roams the American West
Specifically, the Texas Hill Country and South Plains
She keeps a journal of her adventures and fights
injustice where she finds it
With a revolver and her dead father's sawed-off
double-barreled shotgun!
Ol’ brazen Brenda, battlin’ biography,
Banters bewildered brave boatmen at sea,
Brushstrokes besieging her beleaguered brain,
Broadsided by fiction now baking insane;
Balanced between both broken and brilliant,
Buried by sorrow, bereft not resilient,
A ballyhooed author, back in the day,
‘Fore Brian betrothed her then drowned near the bay;
Basking bereavement, believing though more,
Books barely bound newly found in the store,
‘Betaken, Broad Beauty’, Brenda’s new write,
Beveled bare bitterness abruptly bright;
Barreled, brought breathless by Bernie, beloved,
A character boating where dead Brian shoved,
As buckets with bottoms knowing no end,
Begging attention did Brenda’s mind bend;
Blended for sanity, befuddled realities
Born when begins a life without boundaries,
Betterment bellows because Brenda’s words,
Boxed-up betrayal beneath binding boards.
9/18/2016
Grapevines flow in gentle lines
blanketing the rich hillsides.
Clothed in hues of golds and reds
harvest barreled wine in sheds.
Dappled light breaks misty morn
blackbirds stir and are reborn.
Spiders weave through branch and leaf
dewdrops glisten, earth smells sweet.
Lone oak spreads its branches wide
reaching up to touch the sky.
Lone cow lingers in the field
bows her head, then eats her meal.
Chill of morn gives way to day
butterflies flit ‘round the hay.
Workers glean the harvest crush
‘midst pungent smells of purple must.
Hours pass as sunlight fades
lengthening the shadow’s rays.
Vigor wanes as strength is spent
hours of labor, time now to rest.
Sunset rays fill fading skies
brilliant color prisms rise.
Luminescent moonlight beams
through fall leaves and harvest dreams.
Written on 11/27/2017
I noticed her two weeks ago.
She flew into my physics lab
like hell itself was after her
and tripped as she sat down.
She's always late for classes,
stammering her apologies,
flustered and myopic, her glasses
barely perched upon her nose.
Accident-prone, she barreled
through the library like Grant
attacking Richmond, giggling nervously
as she checked out her books.
To me she is a treasure, a whirling
dervish dressed in black and white,
always black and white, like for her
it's some particular religion.
I asked her to the movies. She acted
like I was the first who'd ever taken
interest, she was flattered but she
flatly and decidedly said no.
She had thrown down the gauntlet,
so I set out to woo her with my wit
and charm, taking every opportunity
to bump into her when and where I could.
Finally she acquiesced, and when
she slowed down enough to smile
and chat and laugh and joke with me
my heart was hers to keep!
A life uninhabited by the suicide soul
life ground him down and took its toll
once a fruitful hardworking life endured
grandeur created from dreams obscured
Being an Entrepreneur creating millionaire lifestyle
every year that past money making was futile
The fairground life was all that he had known
a place for amusement a place where he'd grown
betrayed by his peers sold out now insubstantial
business driven only means to survive were financial
life meaningless with all accomplishment now worthless
a requirement to living had now become surplused
escalating worry of money, health decreasing
only one outcome, a need to end it increasing
showing a deceptive facade to all he was fine
April 5th was the date to end a 50 year lifetime
accompanied by whiskey, gun and a Dictaphone
he recorded drunken passages of time all alone
He had drove and drove to his final destination
a desolate place for the act and no hesitation
pulled out a double barreled shot gun, lay on the bank
with a one shot to the head where the bullet sank.
You can not force me to sit at the back of the bus!
I was born after the 1960's Civil Rights Movement.
My grandfather barreled through the Share Cropping Era.
I refuse the force of your Human Capitalism.
I will sit right here before these steps and rest my feet.
You can not force me to sit at the back of the bus!!
Take your handcuffs off by way of police brutality.
My great grandmother was born a free woman of color.
I refuse to sit at the back of the bus!!!
I did not ask you to run a gynecology on my bloodline.
Keep your cameras that force scandal off me.
Cause I refuse to sit at the back of the bus!
There once was a nutter quite frightful
Who spent so much time being spiteful
When confronted with truth
Completely debunking her sleuth
She barreled into delusions most delightful!
If you want to keep
your expanding
civil liberty weight down,
we suggest you try the alphabet dictator soup
It’s demagogue-approved to keep the
public scrutiny town hall gavel pounds off of you
The letters F ... R ... E ... E are not in the can,
and radical talk chowder is totalitarian banned
You best clam up, if you know what’s healthy for you
But the split-lip pea soup tastes great liquefied,
if your jaws need to be wired shut
Fat ideas of human rights
will get you shipped to Siberia
on a dissident Weight Watchers bus
Sugary sweet intoxicating wine of independent thought
will get you government-issued gulag cloth
So don’t get drunk on too much First Amendment talk
Here’s something else you might want to try on the menu,
our peppery, Black Boot fascist veggie stew
It’s guaranteed to give you a mean kick
Only 100-percent propaganda tofu
is offered in this meatless, bicameral dish
No harmful voter allergens to alarm you,
and it’s debate-free healthy too
This totalitarian menu will slim your political weight
down so fast, it will shock you
Just watch what a few rubles a day can do
I know you still have cravings
for some red meat democracy
Need I remind you: this is a
media roast-free, autocratic dinner party
You will be amazed at what
a few influence-peddling dollars will buy
But please be advised:
Stay away from any amended second helpings
of the rich, decadent General Custard pie
Aw, shot ... it’s double-barreled delicious,
but it got major health concerns,
no Krispy Kremlin lie
Too many Constitutional calories
in each serving of this American dish
We urge you ... implore you ...
demand you not to give it a try
Those who taste too much sweet liberty,
tend to kick their totalitarian diet to the curbside
she knew all the moves
Queen's Gambit
Sicilian Defense
Bura's Desperado Sacrifice
with her arms wrapping me
we barreled the freeway
racing headlong into the wind
balanced on two wheels below
as free as mustangs in the mountains
abandoned in the moment with the herd
where the only destination
was in the hooves desires
when emotions move beyond
any resemblance of logic and reason
my arms began to leave
their grip upon the handlebars
wings were birthed, expanding in flight
soaring in a vision of Magnificent Frigates
liberty in the thermals, gracing the air
ecstatic and free of gravity
casting fate into another paradise
look, mom, no hands
when came the scream
the slap to my back
what are you doing command
as my hands returned
slowly to the handlebars
i returned the conversation
the universe was out of balance
i put it back, time to think quick
not every move is in a book
of chess
later over lunch, there was the lecture
where bad boys are brought to heel
those stern warnings
you will never do that again
there could be a rock in the path
there could be
there could be
one of those times
they will never know why
or will you really, the stars align
the anger in her face
telling you in large measure
how much she loves you
not in any chess book
it is secret men keep, silence is golden
because sometimes a woman's anger
is her most adorable moment
when you fall in love yet more
where every upbraid becomes a rose
reminding you how precious she is
one of those ways fruition luckily forms
and you get attention, a bonehead move
pays in dividends
like pulling ponytails
not in any chess book
but what is, a most arduous trial
never mentioned in the books
of chess defenses
when the king takes the queen
OKC 7/22
You love to double dare,
double down
Raise the stakes and double the bet
You love to double dip,
double back
Lower the cage and shark bite thru the double mesh net
The risk of getting caught
is part of doing the crime
But you don’t care about doing the time
You love to run in the shadows,
dark places where there ain’t no sunshine
You’re one double-hearted soul
with a double mind
Cheshire grinning to yourself,
you say: look what the cat caught,
look what the dog hid
You’re so evil,
so double minded
Joker laughing to yourself,
you say: see what the marked cards bought,
see what the fake bluff bid
You’re so devilish,
so double minded
Corrupting souls and selling them into sin,
buying their integrity and then profiting
But one day, you’re gonna try to stretch your
double mind into a triple
*** ... poisoned milk bottle
Lying lips sucking the death nipple
Then you realize too late,
your boss, the Devil got a single mind
He been wanting to kill you for a long time
They said:
you were drop dead beautiful
at the funeral home
Rumor spread:
when your face hit the plate,
from the doubledecker arsenic-laced burger that you ate,
how ironic was your fate
Your suffering, scorned double-insured wife,
convenient love of your double agent life,
did your double mind in with a double cross
And in doing so,
she earned a double bonus from your boss
Your double-fanged, black widow wife
bit you with a double dose poison surprise
And her double helixes, they got wiped clean,
when all the evidence vanished from the murder scene
At your coffin,
she gave your lips a doublemint kiss,
and gave her heart a double tap with the fist
She don’t have to double over anymore
from your double-barreled gut punch lies,
now that she gave you
the big sleep, double indemnity goodbye
Eulogy slammed your memory hard
... yes she did
Plucked flowers from the graveyard,
put it on your coffin lid
Hell is glad getting you on the underground grid
You’re so devilish,
so double minded
He rode in from Texas, calmly chewing a piece of straw.
Folks rumored him a Ranger, some sorta man of Law.
An expressionless face, eyes close 'n stern.
Long barreled pistol, well kept 'n tied down firm.
It was the thirtieth of October, I remember it well.
Sit back 'n relax, I'll narrate the Stranger's tale.
Beer 'n whiskey shots, made the Stranger's tongue loose.
Tugs at his scarf, revealed scars from a noose.
Said he'd come to Denver, to escape the prairie fires.
Recipients of his story, placed him amongst certain liars.
Utterances of bright lights, in a calm night watch dream.
Stampeded cattle, loud voices 'n a haunting scream.
Empty hollow eyes, like death the Stranger was cold.
The annual midnight curse, is what the Ranger told.
Awoke in the saddle, by a Dark Angel of certain death.
Calm night air stirred, vapors rise from cattle's breath.
Focus controlled visions of the chilled dark night.
Squinted images appear from his questioned sight.
At one stroke past midnight, the curse we all had seen.
The Stranger changed to a man of straw, twas now Halloween!
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright © : August 31st, 2003 ~ Sunday
Sandy ‘winds roars, deadly Sandy roar ashore
As the night darken, the people screams no more! No more!
You Ocean whore!
Along the broad walks Hurricane Sandy barreled towards land. ...
Ripping two beautiful little angels from their mother’s hand
Cockamamie dwellers, fled from their homes
The high winds were no match for fowl, beast or man
Sandy winds roars, Sandy roar ashore
Leaving tons of sand;
On the main land
Roof tops, the barbed wire, with sharped edges were defeated
Mortal men lost again to winds of fate.
Sandy winds’ roars, she whistles; she roars ashore.
The long summer of 2012 became a dream
While our footprints fade in the sand
Our hearts ripped apart
We prayed in the dark. : For calm and peace
Everywhere she went it was darkness
Our hearts ripped apart
We prayed in the dark. : For calm and peace
Please, please! Sandy spared us please.
the sun is bright
but doesn't warm my heart
today
Emily said that "thing with feathers" *
perched in my soul
would never stop singing
it does
and I just want to crawl back in bed
be unconcious
or binge something sick and sappy
that wets my eyes
all day
nah--
-- I'm gonna get in my boots
hike straight up that evil mountain
and flip a double barreled salute
at every-- "thing" above
and below
--on my way down
argue with God
whose sun is it
anyway
*From "... is the thing with feathers"
BY EMILY DICKINSON
I noticed her two weeks ago.
She flew into my physics lab
like hell itself was after her
and tripped as she sat down.
She's always late for classes,
stammering her apologies,
flustered and myopic, her glasses
barely perched upon her nose.
Accident-prone, she barreled
through the library like Grant
attacking Richmond, giggling nervously
as she checked out her books.
To me she is a treasure,
a whirling dervish dressed in black and white,
always black and white,
like for her it's some peculiar religion.
I asked her to the movies.
She acted like I was the first
who'd ever taken interest, she was flattered
but she flatly and decidedly said no.
She had thrown down the gauntlet,
so I set out to woo her with my wit,
taking every opportunity to bump into her
when and where I could.
Finally she acquiesced,
and when she slowed down enough to smile
and chat and laugh and joke with me
my heart was hers to keep!