Is this the kind of cruelty that God intended?
This is the tale of the fate of a trio, blended.
From the fruit basket, a banana was copped,
thrown in the Osterizer, and brutally chopped.
Also unable to avoid the cutter,
was that poor spoon of pitiful peanut butter.
Finally, horribly tossed, and so hurt,
that smooth Greek, self-styled Yogurt.
This is the way that their lives ended,
as a smoothie, down my throat, descended.
Blazing humidity & amazing stupidity
In a lather the palaver rather pathetic
Erasing hopes fans gazing splenetic
Starc’s all round pink ball cupidity
Never clever with willow or leather
Wide wild wafts at end of our tether
Snicked off again just a little feather
Helter skeltering in sweltering weather
The Aussies strengths of line & lengths
Our bowlers retort let’s go wide & short
Flopped blame copped catches dropped
No defense or pretence was just nonsense
Not just below par couldn’t wouldn’t spar
Which is why we say ta ra and au revoir
To the Ashes at our bete noir “the Gabbatoir”
You copped down the Magnolia tree,
it was one hundred years old, easily;
and now I am in mourning;
you should have given me a warning!
Mr Nobody
Mr. Nobody is the one who did it,
Guilty as charged of accused crime.
Incredulous innocence looks on his face,
Mr. Nobody was culprit time after time.
It wasn’t me cried Mr Nobody,
Why am I always to blame?
Mother had eyes in the back of her head,
She knows perpetrators name.
Our house had several Mr Nobody’s,
No need of reproach or scold.
Who was the offender this time?
Two paces forward brave and bold.
Occasionally I was Mr Nobody,
Though cried my innocence in disbelief.
As the eldest often copped a clip,
Even when the youngest was thief.
Mr Nobody again screamed Mother,
All up the stairs now, early to bed.
Ignited by short tempered fuse,
It wasn’t me; it was my brother instead.
Those enemy soldiers, they weren’t too well trained
They weren’t gonna take back the ground that we’d gained
But I thought I’d copped it with no shred of doubt
When that hand grenade landed in my dugout
I’m telling you boys, my resolve didn’t crack
I just pulled the pin out and threw it right back
The gentleman spoke to a man
Who walks away shaking his hand
Fifty dollars he dropped
That another man copped
At work he was giving the can
It was around 1830
There lived a man who stole
His face was pale and dirty
His clothes were full of holes
He had no job or money
He was forced to steal
He was just surviving
Then along came Sir Robert Peel!
A short letter to this Hot Summer Day,
I get it, you’re a furnace from the sky.
And you want to play chef, to bake and to stew,
Both my feet you simmer and fry
You battered and basted and blanched and broiled
As I roasted all day in the sun.
And to help this heat wave, you turned the kiln up,
And cooked me along to well done.
Even the swim in the pool was a ruse, trap and hoax,
As my skin copped a blistering scorch.
I’d like you to stop these pretty rays of light
This pretty hot scalding blowtorch.
To end this short letter to my friendly hot day,
Here’s a phone number of a guy who mends warm.
Give him a call, invite him straight over,
His name’s Cloudy Wet Soaking Rainstorm.
Hi, this was written in January during Australia's hot summer, but has never been put in any contests. I thought it might fit your contest. It was during the 45 degree C days where it was so mega hot. Cheers.
A second of four
a child-to-man maronic
ignored and scanty poor
told only his idle logic
This family career
he could not sanction
then in his yesteryear
so bad became his action
Perfect One just had to quit
Three went underground
Four copped many a clout
Two was never held to account
In later years still stood his stance
for fear and fallacies of arrogance
She was upended By her Bi sugar-mommy
Who'd spend big and Buy whatever the money
But it ended she said Bye-Bye my sweet little honey.
When the second hand stopped on her second hand watch
Was when a policeman copped lets be having you to mis-behaving youths
A priest Cited their Rites
Police Rights were Recited
They couldn't Sight words let alone Write
Not a good excuse to use stoneWrights on burial Sites.
She Saw it all and felt quite Sore
Just might help to new heights Soar
She found pilot school after seeing loads of fliers
It sounds quite cool after being so low in the mire
For an hour the Hire, Her Spirits now Higher.
The wall that the warrior must climb
was not only steep, rough and slippery,
but the weapons of all kinds
were waiting on other side to kill the warrior.
Although, there were warriors so called enemies
much like the warrior who climbs the wall
they glare at the climber from other side of the wall,
with bow and arrow in hand to pierce in climber’s heart,
with hatchet in hand to chop climber’s head,
with sword in hand to stab the climber’s throat,
the climber kept climbing on the wall
that is steep, rough and slippery
as if treasures more precious than his own life is there
on the other side of the wall.
When the climber came to the top of the wall,
the flying arrow dashed over for his life,
the spear thrust his heart,
the hatchet copped his forehead,
the sword stabbed his throat,
and, when the climber shed his blood and fell with ghastly cry
a warrior other side of the wall also fell,
and when these two lie upon one another
their blood ran down on the wall in the setting sun
with the color of crimson that is redder than the glow of the setting sun.
There was a kid so optimistic but he still copped a pistol, got caught up in a brawl by the liquor store and got dropped in a prison, sitting behind those bars did everything but lift him up, but he became lifted up by God's word now that's real wisdom bruh, 3 years later he got off by pointing out and proving flaws in the judicial system, and you better know that orange jumpsuit didn't match up to that versace suit that fit him, he had to make his life different and learn from his mistakes and try to fix em, because you yourself are your biggest critic and teacher, the same wisdom from God's word he gained turned him into a preacher, his older brother became a deacon, now that's what I call a real brother's keeper, New Hope Missionary Baptist Church down by 21st street a vision that turned his life into a complete 360....perfect ending to an optimistic dream!
I feel sorry for my good mate Billy,
Who chewed on the hottest of chilly.
His mouth copped the blast,
Now with body parts caste...
His wife frantically searches for Willy.
I don't want to drink this day away, I'm going to do it anyway.
I don't want to do any drugs today,
but I got an itch I can't scratch away.
I'm breaking promises I made to someone else,
when I was desperate and needed help.
I looked up to the skies above, and asked a stranger for some love.
The stranger had some love to spare, he set me free and paid my fare.
I thanked the stranger for his gift,
assured him his gesture would not be missed.
But I forgot him by the turn,
I'm headed south and I'll never learn.
I walked into a liquor store, snatched a bottle and drank some more.
I found a rube and copped some dope,
I got too high now I just can't cope.
I'm having trouble dealing with this thing.
I have a heavy heart but a song to sing.
I Love the ground you walk on
So don't take this the wrong
way
Go grab a beer and park it
And listen to what I gotta say
I appreciate the diamonds
And the expensive foreign cars
And how you bust your butt at
work
And don't cruise the local bars.
But I want to dance with you
in the kitchen
And maybe sing along
Like mamma and daddy used
to do
When they heard a favorite
song.
When Daddy would up and
grab her
They would dance the waltz
sublime
And you know my dear old
daddy
Copped a feel of her behind.
Mamma would slap his hand
away
And tell him to act his age
But she just kept on dancing
On the floor he'd made their
stage
I know this all sounds silly
Another thing that men don't
get
But the look in her eyes when
she danced with him
I never will forget.
So come on home in your
dancin' shoes
I've swept the kitchen floor
Don't bother to turn the lights
on
And it would be wise to lock
the door.
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