Best Pawn Poems

I was cursed with ink 
intoxicating blank canvases 
with toxic scribbles,
releasing twisted tales 
of suppressed troubles.
I was a forsaken  ebony rose 
in satan's grasp,
kneeling on ungodly needs
in a gothic fortress 
of woeful odes,
surrounded by black knights
and colorless blossoms,
searching for legitimate sestinas
and versatile villanelles
to ignite...

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I met her  in a pawn shop on a warm summer night
When running from the rubble of  my shattered life
To sell a broken dream that would never come true
An engagement ring to pay for the rent that was due

There she lay sleeping in...

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Tortured and destroyed I fall to the floor,
a darkness waits anxiously for more.
It laughs and croaks as blood falls,
more and more as it splatters the walls.
It stands up to enjoy the kill,
I lay still for I have not the will.
Pleading for a hasty end the...

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Clever you are
playing your game
you   are   no

   common crow

However preened your plumes
blades of night to obscure
far from blind
I can see right through

   to the dawn

You thought me taken
but myself I have given
I want to be your

 ...

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It sat with double doors propped open
inviting the poor, the sad, the broken
Its dusty shelves stuffed and sated
with objects – some fresh, others dated

I carried my dreams with heavy arms
formerly dazzling magical charms
Now in tattered cardboard boxes
a life in unresolved paradoxes

Prized possessions, cherished memories
adored as...

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Clouds roll in to bruise the sky as rain falls from the sun's black eye.
My clothes are sodden within seconds - I dive for the first door that beckons.
The pawn shop smells of age and dust, a heady mix of past and must.
Then, from the...

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There's someones trash,
Others rare treasure,
A lost estate,
Someones eviction furniture,
Electronic doo-dads,
Scratched cd's
Colored glass,
X-box games,
Something for everyone
Sometimes a cafe next door 
for those who spend the whole day!...

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Yes indeed, their inhibitions have been freed;
they knew the public in this republic,
They knew them well and our bent towards hell,
They made up a bill while drinking their swill,
to destroy a nation by charm of oration.
They chose a man from a different land
with the power...

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There is a spirit of adventure, when you open the old wooden door
of the old Main Street Pawn Shop,  a wonderful place to explore

I hear a tinkling sound, from the suspended brass bell
And when I enter the shadows, I am under the spell

I often...

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Casino down the street, rings lined a mile long 
Is this a gambling habit or marriages gone wrong? 
How'd they get so many guitars strings still in place 
Wood polish shines brightly inside the velvet case 

And what about those guns and tools ? 
Belong...

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This a place of souls
more precious than all the gold,
payment without sin
to heaven one is promised.
The trap door to hell, busy.

© Harry J Horsman  2013...

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this is not a free country
pick a place on the globe
they force the laws upon us
US - free people of the world

i am not free to do as i wish
says the man i have never seen
my freedom to act, my free will
taken away by the...

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In a window down on Main St.
Sits an old pawn shop guitar
Its strings are like a slinky
And its finish has been marred

But when a dreamer has a vision
They keep shooting for the stars
It's not about the glamour
It's more about the heart

If that old pawn shop...

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We flip the hourglass for time,
use moments as each hour's pawn.
Then store Today, when past its prime,
midst Yesterdays--now finished, gone.

If we could make one moment stay
just by flipping the hourglass,
how to choose the hour, the day
so many moments come and pass.

Or, as time's measure disappears,
will...

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Lamet!

is what she hears first
him, screaming her second name
as he descends upon her
no time to process
gravity
a thud, tearing her core to shavings
Maiweeeee! She is puzzled.

His baritone dropping the 'n'
agitation
a wooden scrabble.
Nothing is left between her
and Pee, not a grain
all’s crushed
smothering their screams
interlocking their groans.

He is...

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