Life grew bland, banal, other B words
she said I need to gather a troupe
of like-minded sufferers
set up some auditions, form
a select band
we'll workshop the basics
characters, costumes
And then we'll act out the rest of our lives together
no need for cameras
or an audience
call it pure theatre
oh the dramas we will have
No it won't be any stranger than
singing in the parlour for friends
without a microphone, a paying crowd
you can call it the folk tradition
Were they the perfect gang?
Since off the same song sheet they sang
Looking out for each other the norm
Weathering each and every storm
Idea generation when they met
Nothing in stone was set
No challenge was ever too great
Solutions always carried weight
Success bred success indeed
But alas it also bred much greed
Limelight grabbing opened cracks
Telling tales to newspaper hacks
And so dark clouds gathered above
No chance of reconciliation via the peace dove
The perfect gang would be no more
As their perfect storm became folk lore
Paddy was a hit man
for the Irish Mob
hired to be slick
and do a whack job
but he didn't have the knack
or know the trick
without being caught
and put in the nick
behind bars
but not the sort one might think
where a few jars
may be bought and he did so love a drink
more than one too many
was his undoing
the cause of all
the troubles brewing
and with only one hit
it's really no wonder
he was fired from the gang
for a drunken blunder
as he couldn't quit the whiskey
be it bottle or a flagon
and ended up inside
not on the wagon
Line
The limit
So many crossing it
The deadline
Forgetting time comes with penalty
Just to prove em worthy
Worthy but not ready to pay
For the consequences of breaking the rules.
Without people
They're nothing
Always hoping and waiting
On a savior before they savage
Them be bragging of what they are
They're just gang of people misliving.
A man who said he's all
Still have to wait on another
Before actions
For them triggers
Depends on them fellow fools
Folly them be promoting
Deceit them tools
The God's own don't fear them
Let the war begin.
Dorothy and her lovely small dog Toto.
Were all taken up in a fierce tornado.
Ran into three helpless bobos.
A Tin man, Lion, and Scarecrow.
No Wizard needed, just the Dr Phil show.
The three went to see Dr. Phil, a PHD.
No heart for the Tin man, just psychotherapy.
Told the Lion to get a set,
and the Scarecrow to not forget.
All thanked the Dr, and walked away happily.
The Wizard they all thought had magical powers.
Worked and schemed, behind his curtain, every hour.
His curtain was removed.
The people were amused.
Now, he plays behind the curtain in the shower..
Bobo: A slang Spanish word meaning half witted.
Wizard Of Oz Limerick Poetry Contest Charles Messina
Written November 22 2024
Secret life
A secret existence, you don’t know who he is
You see him, but you don’t know his dark side
Yeah, it looks like he is a simple man. Evil life
Sure, he can not be a saint, wrong people created
Created him, malicious people. But he is good
Doesn’t want anything bad, just live and feel
But the selfish lives kill him, because fine
Not like the evils, but what he can do? Answer?
Yes, there is the answer
They are fouls!
You must be fouled too!
Against them!
Said a gangster gang
But how?
By mind
Controlled
Control
I won!
I wanna retire but I’m barely hanging on.
Lost the fire in my belly but I still log on.
Working hard every day, dreaming to be free,
But can’t afford it in this economy.
Slaving in a sweat shop singing the blues,
Ain’t got time for a Caribbean cruise.
I wanna retire but I’m barely hanging on,
Wondering where all my freedom has gone.
The price of eggs has me crying foul,
But Uncle Sam turns a deaf ear when I yowl.
Where O where have my tax dollars gone?
I wanna retire but I’m barely hanging on.
Seems so strange to spend on climate change,
When me and my friends got no pocket change.
I wanna retire but I’m barely hanging on.
Will freedom be taxed until it's all gone?
Got a raise last week and was feeling good,
Until a gang burnt up my neighborhood.
Fentanyl is killing and our borders long gone.
I wanna retire but I’m barely hanging on.
Got a raise last week and was feeling good,
Until a peaceful gang burned my neighborhood.
I wanna retire but I’m barely hanging on.
Barely…, barely…, barely,
…Hanging…
on
The humor of it all
I shan't fall
my stalker catrina bell
my identity
thief born 3-13-1967
you can't be me
I'm born in 1963
terror rage from page
to page live your own life
live your own age
brutal attacks
upon my space
love yourself
love your own face
fredlocks made his choice
it sure wasn't you
so if you would please
just leave
stop your stalking threats
and simple shew
Eyes! Doleful and lonely as they quietly penetrate my soul
In their silence, I can hear clamorous rumblings of a tale that pleads to be told
Far-reaching and clamorous are these eyes
So much so that not even their beautiful abode can cover or disguise
Beautifully haunting, they are
So deep and so regally divine
I see them. I feel them.
Deeply,
Deeply,
Deeply, they touch
As they meticulously befuddle every morsel of my being
I awkwardly attempt to look away
But like a magnet, they pull me close, closer
Then they speak of many tales, from a whisper to the pinnacle of rising octaves
Sorrowful narratives of manipulation, deception, jealousy, ghosting, envy, greed, betrayal, hurt, sadness, and even the macabre
They speak of wondrous hopes and dreams in the dawn of life that were quickly and heinously turned to night
Think of the clock chiming
its your homecoming
At home she's a tourist
filling the disco floor with virtue
her bourgeois extreme thrives,
transport yourself a new personality
brandish your interment interest
show your mental process
2 steps forward
6 back
At home she feels timid
there's no gang sweetheart
just the statutes of the once great
awaiting toppling
in dew clad desperate February
We are sneaking these pumpkins out of this field said Fang.
He was the leader at of the Kitty Pumpkin Sneaking Gang.
I thought it odd because if they were trying to do it on the sly.
Why would they name their gang? Why oh, dear, why?
Gang mentality
To most a sign of weakness
Though not viewed so
By other bullies….
My Neighborhood Gang
Colorful drapes hung alongside of my narrow window
A small one/bedroom apt. my first - from delivery of newspapers
overlooking a park - past a spider web - made by a black widow
planted on one pane - I would peer
Children tossing hoops laughing an bouncing ball would alert me
Time to exercise an maybe get into a game myself
our usual gang - tough competitive group - scrappers see
someone hurting after each game me too
Now at dusk, all this would change - you could hear those voices echo
Off buildings nearby - these same rough guys would sing
singing is what we did in that old park - after dinner with chicko
that boy from Puerto Rico was our leader an could hit all high notes we sang
Windows opened on all the surrounding buildings - families listened too
Only when our sessions were over - we hear Bravo! Chico Bravo!
We sounded like angels in a choir - made us feel proud - cool so true,
without a doubt we were on top of our world - couldn't wait for tomorrow
Three word prompts used = Window - Angels - Singing
In nature's design, six is the key to all life alive.
Hexagons in petals, snowflakes, and beehives thrive,
In music, blues and roots groups play the six-stringed guitar.
With songs made with a hexatonic blue note, added to each bar.
Six key chemical elements there when life first sprang
Were the notorious Carbon, Hydrogen, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Sulfur, Phosphorus gang.
belong to Jesus gang
you could tell by way we sang
with a Southern twang
down whole church He brang
with Him danced and swang
around with liked to hang
gave me a mustang
heard bells when they rang
learning how to add
after my math had been bad
became a new fad
was another drone
causing us to moan and groan
should leave us alone
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