Prying eyes on a peeping screen
Shouting curses in between
Minding someone behind closed doors
Eyes on the ceilings and the floors
Making one's life an open book
Just like a ticket for a look
Intrusive eyes find a way to ride
While someone finds a way to hide
Making a logbook for one's mistakes
While cold hearts bet for the highest stakes
Why must one endure the pain
Of being a puppet for a gain?
Categories:
logbook, dark,
Form: Rhyme
She was a less-than-truckload lady
Who’d signed a contract for the long haul
With the interstate driver she married.
But that trucker kept a bogus bill of lading
And a logbook full of lot lizard flings.
So now she’s rolling down the big slab
In her hubby’s bobtail bulldog,
His gooseneck flatbed stranded in the wings.
She’d just renewed her CDL for diesel;
Her unexpected dispatch wasn’t forced.
Her old man was a cracker-headed weasel.
She left him feeling semi divorced.
Semi divorced, like a rider unhorsed.
She took away his way to keep on trucking.
Semi divorced was the judgement, of course.
He fooled around with fire and got a f*cking.
What you say?
I say, he fooled around with fire and got a f*cking!
We hear dat.
Categories:
logbook, allegory, divorce,
Form: Lyric
I am vulture
My soul case may be repugnant,
However, I have every sawbones decimal
On my speed dial
Before any croacker decrees justice
On a soul case,
They confer with me
My logbook contains a docket
Of every Golgotha and slaughterhouse on the planet
I am on first name basis
With every casket maker, mortuary Steward and proprietor
I am the fiend no soul case wants to see,
Hear or dream about
My name send's shivers down the spine of mortals
I am a friend in need and indeed;
I am the curator in every country
Where war and conflict thrive
No one thinks of me
And no one want's me as a pet
I am the dark one; the dark continent
I am vulture, the patient one
Categories:
logbook, africa, art, creation, discrimination,
Form: Personification
Time travelers
who drews routes
those who leave the logbook empty
journeys in a misty wheather
we are among the ice mountains
pirates once cut our road off
we boarded descend and ride at every dock
Categories:
logbook, allegory,
Form: Alliteration
From a ship’s logbook
Sat on deck another long day I smelled of chippy fat
and the sweat of honest labour
The stove in the galley was oil fired but I wanted to
read a few poems before I had a shower.
The light wasn’t any good so I read a western book,
as I always had wanted to be a sheriff in Texas.
The book was good I knew the words before I read
them, fell asleep when I awoke it was midnight
I knocked on my cabin door, give roaches a change
escape; impossible long days and blithe was the sea
In the morning I was still reeking of chippy fat and it
was too late to have a shower.
Categories:
logbook, funny, sea, , western,
Form: Couplet