Hit Poems - Poems about Hit

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...

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I know which cup to leave chipped in the sink, Mouth open begging for rot. I know which word to spill— Vinegar, nettle, sour-spit— To make him blink slow and tight, The way thunder coils before breaking. It's a little game I play. I wear the red dress he hates, The one that clings like wet birth skin, And I let my laugh scratch...

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Ever so sweet is kernel hub, the power button, so neat, tiny and mighty. But the sweet spot can sour with too much power to savor its glory. For to score is fragile, furtive and futile, when a near miss, catches the edge. It's easily bruised, easily abused, easily overused, overdone and missed. The soft spot sweetie, requires a gentle touch, with panache, pizzazz, flair and feeling....

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Devestation by the mountain, a warning now to all.' Life is fragile.' Who can know.? Or avert when such a disaster Decides to fall.?...

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You know why Hippos and Rhinos never get heart attacks? Because they don’t stir-fry their veggies in oil, Nor add salt or sugar to their desserts. You know why monkeys keep monkeying around? Because they belong to a Banana Republic. You know why corns are so sweet? Because they are all ears and hear everything but do not gossip. Say nothing. You know why dogs fetch...

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the three things that t h r i l l b e a t ...

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Trailhead latrine, cracked mirror— three of me grinning wrong. A soap shaver's chewed itself down, there's a beetle on its back in the basin. I clean my hands as best I can, wipe them on my pants, get out, back into wilderness, where I don't have to face them....

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Fingers so sore from learning the chords, Getting the rhytme without knowing the words. It all sounds so good here in my head, Blood from my fingers turning the fret board red. But I've got to keep trying, just carry on, Or the thoughts that inspired me will be lost and all gone. I've got to decide on the ideal...

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Please don't hit me again, please, please no more Her tiny whisper met with a slammed door and motor revved, as his car sped away. But, he would be back by the end of day. He would tell her that he would change his way. "Babe, you know I didn't mean it," he'd say "It's just there are many problems, you...

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After so many fall You will learn more in life The will to stand is necessary To know how to strike fitly In anyway you will know how to survive Not always days are nights And sunny strike any day Ready to win in between dark and light What is more surprising is your power To choose to always fight for your right The right...

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Lost inside of a sexy playlist, made out with a one hit wonder boy; Vintage crooning with a virgin twist; Record for an intimate convoy, the first track behind a one night stand; I relented and became your toy; Undercover art of reprimand amplifies the volume in the air; He jammed alone never with a band; Just one hit with emotions laid bare, hit replay...

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the den is as dark as the inside of a witch’s hat, macabre as can be someone with a green face and pointed nose sits across from me her nose gives a twitch, there is too much make up around her eyes her hat is pointed with inverted peak at the top, no big surprise. my partner is dressed...

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Oh my, why am I always on the flip side? Fleeing from hope, slipping down the slide. In moonshine glow, seldom in sunshine bright. Always in the consequence of negativity's plight. My joy and laughter are often subdued. My tears and sobs are wrongly construed. My feelings are torn to tatters and shreds. By doubts and uncertainty, slipped threads. But why am I...

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my husband rushes to warn me about the storm coming I already know! The dogs and I have run outside. My arms are outspread. I am dancing; they are jumping, excited. drops of cold rain are coming down into my eyes, because my head is raised, my mouth is open. a storm! I scream to my husband! A real storm! I...

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He left the house in disarray When cautioned flew into a rage, A brat he was who got his way This lad was spoilt from a young age. When cautioned flew into a rage And uttered words best left unsaid; The mother cried and tears were shed. A brat he was who got his way And treated all with disrespect His bad behaviour went...

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