teen magazine came out in the late sixties
my mother bought it for my sister and I
every cover featured a blonde girl with blue eyes
she looked l like she surfed in California
Inside there were ads, ads, ads, ads, ads and ads.
It was a slick magazine with lots of glossy pages.
the items they sold looked enticing and necessary.
We did not have the money to buy any of this.
There were a couple of stories, and maybe a comic or two.
But the ads were the kicker.
They showed us things we never hoped to be able to purchase.
After a while, we lost our enthusiasm for this magazine.
Well first of you have to be black
So if your not sorry about that
I guess you're just gonna have to be believed
I know for once your not included
How does it feel not to be the centre of attention
I guess it must be hard having white privilege
Oh and also being favoured
And no I'm not joking
Anyways back to the point
Black girls listen up
So what you are gonna need to is just open your mouth
Cause they don't like that
They'll call you violent
Kicker is they hate when your also silent
And use that as an excuse to discredit us
To dismiss us
They do this intentionally
So people won't believe us
I know
How scandalous
You're also gonna have to just exist
Yeah this one's gonna be the easiest
To accomplish
Us living apparently really hurts them
So they are probably gonna do everything
To make sure our voices are ignored by everyone
Because who is society going to believe
I'll give you a hint
The ones who have privilege
Sucks don't it
Well that's how you know you're doing something right
Cause remember we don't want to be believed
I mean it really is just that easy
Because when you're black
You're automatically not believed
I dilly dally my way through a regular Monday
Icy rain covers my driveway by three o’clock
I slip and slide on it, weather reports come in
Monster storm is coming; the kind you get once in a century
My friends begin calling me
Do I have enough food and water?
I have enough to last six to eight months.
Also a hundred pounds of dog food for my two pony dogs.
Tuesday I awake to snow as tall as my porch
It is not bitter cold, but it is uncomfortably cold.
Wednesday is the kicker.
We are supposed to have more snow, more ice and fifty mile an hour winds.
My feet are cold tonight; I wonder how things will go in the morning.
Our temperature is going to drop from 28 to 16 degrees.
The interstates and highways around and through Kansas City are closed.
Mayor asks us to all stay home; schools are cancelled.
The electric company sent us a notice to expect outages.
Monster storm, you deserve a name.
I will call you Monster Helen after the meanest teacher I ever had
And the nicest teacher I ever had, both named Helen.
What the Dickens! Santa ain't wearing knickers
well his pants got caught inside the chimney
now here's the kicker...
Little Joe woke up in the middle of the night
and gave Santa such a jolly fright
now here's the kicker...
It was drafty there wasn't any gas nor heat
Mrs. Chump snored upstairs like dead meat
now here's the kicker...
Mr. C was 5 feet tall and wasn't a Clause at all
he didn't know how to rob Peter to pay Paul
now here's the kicker...
The real Ms. C owned a solar panel, Oh what fun
gave it to Ming Ming who flew like a Son Of A Gun!
now here's the kicker... Eh !
He burned Santa's pants then laughed, giggled, scoffed
but as Santa danced around the sun poured in the loft
now here's the real kicker...
Christmas was a blast now little Joe C could finally be,
toasty as a glow worm in a house built for three.
Merry Christmas Everyone !
Love,
From Santa's Girl :)
If you like Keanu, you’ll love The Replacements
‘bout an ex-football player who's into effacement.
Called back to the big time when A-listers strike,
it’s got some great scenes that I know you will like.
I won’t spoil the story, but the cheerleading’s hot;
QB Falco’s the real deal, and Martel is not.
Wiry Nigel the kicker will have you enthralled,
as will Bateman when coach says, “Go get me the ball!
There isn’t much action if you hoped for a gun,
just some hard-hitting football and 2 hours of fun.
----------
H/T to Terry Flood's Movie Night
I once lived with a yapping trash-licker
a two faced dead soul and side back kicker
she treated me like a tart~
I didn't like her rotting fart
makes my golden fringe cringe, and grow thicker..
She’s a noodle-haired witch..selling old fries
flying in over-sized panties, she cries
begging to be seen, she craps,
beware of her diss rap traps
I ain't her nanny to sing when she lies..
My young baby roo I love and protect
He's a bit of a kicker and a fidget
He lives safely inside my kangaroo pouch
With stronger kicks felt, ouch! I cry out.
As little ones do, he won't keep very still
For my body ache pains, the vet pops me a pill
Roo pushes and twists while awake or asleep
Power kick gifts, from his little long feet.
High jumper or boxer he could turn out to be
Up pops his head, his new world to see
Ouch! another kick; again to my ribs
A sudden spring jump, he's out from his crib.
Jumping, exploring, very much excited
In-out play; then back in pouch basket
Not one for climbing in or out gently
Always kick butting, my poor sore belly.
A grown boy now, he'll be leaving home soon
No more protection from mums tum cocoon
My ouch in my pouch, my baby roo joey
If human he'd win; gold Olympic jump glory.
"O" Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor Constance La France
Written 23.09.21
I can smell their fear
They head toward me in a mob
Screaming that I have to be one of them
I get small and tight, fitting into a shoebox
The box is kicked high into the air
My Uncle Dave laughs.
He may be the worst of them
I land behind a dumpster without my lid
We will find you! My grandfather screams.
Without seeing him, I know he is wearing overalls.
And white socks with work boots.
I am glad he was not the box kicker
Come out! Come out! Where ever you are!
They are chanting now. I stay still, trying not to breathe.
My cousin Sam sees me and winks. She is wise.
Knows that they can never do more to punish me
than I will do to myself.
She misdirects them to an open field.
The hair stands on the back of my neck,
I feel shivers down my spine,
Wondering if the punishing has begun.
I bleed INK for your need
I form the letters of your thoghts.....
I am the actual lover of paper....
With my adhesive power you win
I am the toughest weapon
For someone I'm the most loved
And for someone I'm the sad truth.
I never asked who you are....
But I'm not the stranger.
You attached the words using me.
You grab...without asking me....
You start scribling....
You start producing the beats....hurting me
Fix to your pocket...which gives me the delight
After turning around your huge fingers.....
You drink my life blood for your own life....
I am the forgiver and you are the begger!!
I sacrifise my life for your crown
Still...I don't blame.
Because there is a joy....being as the loveletter...
Weapons killing your enimies...
Great sound against the imperfection
Touch to my love.....
Wings for my aspiring buddies
Thorn for your red roses.....
And kicker of the boundary of your mind....
6/16/2020
Just outta of a shower and pampering
The next step for me is dressing
I’m so fresh and clean
And wanting to look so neat and pristine
I line up my boxers strategically placed
I’m ready in my dressing place
As I place my right leg through the hole
Suddenly I start a one legged dance craze role
You see things haven’t gone to plan
As my big toe gets caught on the waist band
Moving around the room as a dancing high kicker
Until cussing and panting I land on my kisser
And I wonder when my skill was lost
That I learnt those as a nipper at such a cost
When dressing was so easy to know
Now it’s more an acrobatic one man show!
© Paul Warren Poetry
She’s so neg neurodegenerative,
so womb retro Neanderthal
Her backward moving bellow decisions
aren’t thoroughly modern mellow
Got lip kicker high heels
that testosterone neuter kills
Miss So and So
loves to cold-heartedly
iron cast her anvil anger with
dragon breath death blows
She’s so con method constrictive,
so anaconda pocket squeeze avarice addictive
Those boa belly estrogen rolls
always take their masculine squeal toll
Her every hip sway diamondback pulse suggestion
is cobra hardwired for a vow recoil bosom confession
Miss No Good So and So
is a sultry eyelash she-devil
Delivering a bottomless pit of insomnia pain
everywhere she pillow goes
Don't fool yourselves.
Trump didn't divide us
any more than Obama united us.
The divisions were already there.
A hopeless societal and political sedimentation
That took well over two hundred years
of time to divide the star-spangled pie,
not based on color but beliefs.
If we don't separate physically
we'll end up killing each other for meat...
Asses and elephants are a toxic marriage.
One stomps and trumpets
gets little to nothing done
The other kicks and *itches
about trivial things.
The stomper and the kicker
Made in America- unhinged.
Always count the cost, be quicker
country bumpkins can be slicker.
Dare-devil journeys should be fun;
use good sense, don’t just hit and run.
Go for the gold, here’s the kicker -
When you go, stay off the liquor;
save a death watch for your vicar.
Don’t think that it’s your way or none,
always count the cost.
Decide what you want; don’t dicker;
though your buddies want to bicker.
Ponder all options one by one.
Then dive in, and when it is done
learn from mistakes and don’t snicker.
Always count the cost.
written August 8, 2018
But here's another odd item, one that gives me a very funny, almost queasy feeling, whenever I think on it long enough. Ever since that day with Clarence, whenever I go to the park pond to feed the birds, and when I finish at the shore with the swans, (as I promised Clarence I would), and go up to the bench to feed the pigeons, that funny little duck with the striped leg, the one I now call Grace, always follows me, and either sits down by my foot, or sometimes, jumps up to the bench to warm in the late-day sun.
And the REAL kicker? There's a NEW duck now, a drake or male, and he's always tagging along behind the female, though at a safe distance from me ... he follows her everywhere, always watching what she does, always very intent on her habits, and sometimes even getting flustered when he thinks she's near danger ... and he has two bright orange legs, like she does, two very striking, piercing eyes, like her, two perfectly shaped Mallard wings, like her, and ONE ... single ... stripe, on his left leg.
Any ass-kicker
makes an ass quicker.
Volodymyr Knyr
2017
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