Long Damn Poems
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He moved about the shopping mall,
was having a hell of a time,
he knew just what he wanted here,
but it was proving hard to find.
He had quite a specific type,
you could usually find it here,
he’d always had an easy time
finding girls here in the past years.
Yes, he needed a young woman,
ten to fourteen was the best age,
you had to get their mothers too,
they were usually willing to play.
So he scanned round the big food court,
looking for the pairs out shopping,
he saw one by the pizza place,
and towards them was now moving.
A mother about thirty-eight,
he always had been a good judge,
a daughter maybe eleven,
and bringing her in would be fun.
So he sidled up to the pair,
and painted on his best smile,
said, “You want to make real money?
Can I talk to you for a while?”
The mother’s eyes went wide at this,
she said, “Laura, we have to go!”
Scampered away, looking frightened,
he hated it when they said no.
That girl had been a fine looker,
you had to move when they were young,
wait too long and the bloom faded,
and soon enough they were all done.
So he got up and scanned again,
most people in here had no looks,
but then back by the Chinese joint,
was a Latina who looked good.
He figured she must be fifteen,
a little old, but not too late,
her mother was not that pretty,
but he realized that could be great.
Give such people some attention
they became putty in your lands,
he knew he’d close the deal with them,
the daughter would be in his hands.
So he went up with a broad grin,
said,”Hey, do you want some good work?
I have connections you might like,
can help out both you and your girl.”
The mother’s eyebrows narrowed tight,
“Marlena, right now, come with me!”
She looked backed at him, dagger-eyes,
getting away in a hurry.
He sighed again, shaking his head,
why had everything seemed to change?
This used to be so damn easy,
had the whole darn world gone deranged?
He looked again, after a bit,
saw a brunette, pretty, youthful,
her mother was quite hot herself,
maybe he could get a double...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
They talk about how the country these days,
has fallen into such a Goddamn mess.
It’s worse than anyone has ever seen,
must have forgot the seventies, I guess.
They talk about how the ex-president,
did not do things the same way they use to.
But they must have forgotten all about,
Tricky Dicky back in seventy-two.
Congress showed us another bill they wrote,
said there’s no room here in the land we stole.
You won’t get no rights or have any hope
so just keep your ass down in Mexico.
Way down yonder where the tall cotton grows,
down south of that old Mason-Dixon line.
Daddy said son, best not be on the road.
after that setting sun no longer shines,
Late last night just outside of my front door,
there was a young white woman raped and stabbed.
They looked at the people gathered around,
it was an innocent black man that they grabbed.
Said we don’t need no proof that you’re guilty,
if you are black then that’s enough for us.
Besides, it’s your word against all of ours,
so who you think the judge is gonna trust.
When the man threw his hands into the air,
the cop cried, “That boy’s got himself a gun.”
Shot him a total of thirty-nine times,
said it’s because he was trying to run.
I wonder when it was, we lost our minds,
the meanings of good and bad got hazy.
Did the cave men wake up on one morning,
thinking that this world is too damn crazy.
They are hopping mad so they burned the flag,
protesting against inequality.
The poor man’s sick of being kicked around,
while he’s dying of hunger in the street.
It’s Covid now instead of Russian Flu,
there is still no such thing as living free.
I just can’t tell if this is modern times,
or are we in the nineteen seventies.
CONSISTENCY
Written By: D. Collins 6/28/16
Consistency is waking just to pay your bills.
Once that is over, we're taking multiple pills.
Like late, baby-boomers, I ain't going out like that.
I am keeping in shape, and stacking my stacks.
High Blood Pressure!! It won't be found in me.
I get down on the ground with such consistency.
Feeling the burn, while actually doing it raw.
Building something from nothing at the very start.
I put in the work, and get deep in the grime.
Sweat like a beast, and give a bit of my time.
Old muscle tissue only lasts for so long.
Its up to me to make it vibrant and strong.
It starts with a two-pack, then works it's way down.
Giving solace to getting down on the ground.
There's nothing hard about putting in work.
Making major muscle groups damn, near snap from hurt.
The politicians speak and act out in pure oxymoron.
By that I mean say one thing or promise one thing and do a next or the opposite. Some friends also do.
With warm cruelty and in a very nice and seemingly gentle sinister pretentious intentions.
Pure bare cold sweetly favoured and spicy nothings.....nothingnesses,
They promise you a great and propserous year.
But then they do absolutely nothing to improve your life in the slightest.
There is such a cold malignant mliciousness in the kindly promises.
The sweetest and most polished and sincerest sounding Bull you can ever imagine.
Trust them at your own damn risk, to your relaxed sleepy opium filled detriment.
Almost seems like all of them are the same.
No distinct difference.
As the Guyanese say maybe the only good one is dead.
Meaning that the good ones are gone.
And only good is said at theier Euloy after their bad deaths.
Their is endless Hypocrisy.
It's Like We Are Living An Oxymoron.
Don't get me wrong though, there have been and always will be a few really good and sincere ones Like my friend Dugu Gordon.
But most of them just live a disgusting honey money lie......they drown in a dirty legacy cesspool of rich bitter sweet mango jam irony and useless unnecessary excess wealth.
Always nice to be away
From people like you
Who are stressing me apart,
Don’t you think so?
Whatever,
Just in time.
I was thinking deeply about
All that happened in my life,
Since I met you, I will never forgive,
It hurts too much,
Hope this party will remove such thoughts.
Have a great time,
Comments and feelings reserved,
Showering me with your weekend lies,
Coz you are fading away gracefully,
I know how to please myself.
This is the time when
We gotta take coffee
With a pinch of salt,
I love you percentile,
I don’t give a damn
What they are going;
I was driving when you beeped,
Talk to me before I walk
Into the cave.
Everything needs a rest- the machine - a mirror- an
astronomical chart or graph- a sometimes glass?.
Like the fun even though dynamo elsewhen or blue
or black- glee elsewhere or G- clamp?.
I tell you something is hither or thither elsewhere or how
the world is not even aware of damn or the water blue
splashing on the eyelids of some mermaids for instance?,
Just let wait and see the sky is still weathering and sere
and flealy withering?.
Will the body mind when the spirit needs a rest or at least
a fine adornment?.
Or sometimes the beautiful flowers at the campaign
secretariat?.
Pat Westfield sat down at the table long,
the room crowded with all his family,
a last reunion now that dad was sick,
the cancer came back at age seventy.
He didn’t look that bad up at the head,
where he held court with all his grandkids,
and Pat was glad they’d all get this last chance
to thank him for the many things he did.
But across from Pat sat his brother, Ron,
who’d somehow found a shirt with a collar,
his wife and kid in department store clothes,
about all Ron could buy with his dollars.
He had come all this way, and now stood out
in the fine banquet hall Pat had rented,
surrounded by more successful people,
who earned at least six times more than he did.
Their sister Marie was an eye surgeon,
and brother Ken had a big export firm,
Pat himself managed several index funds,
but somehow seeing Ron just made him burn.
“I see that you tried to clean yourself up,”
said Pat looking at the man before him,
“I suppose that we can’t expect much more.”
But Ron just looked back with his own wan grin.
“You’re doing this now at this last meeting?”
Said Ron, looking not the least insulted,
“You can’t stow your pompous nonsense for dad,
on his last chance to see all of his kids?”
Pat just rolled his eyes at the brothers’ words,
“O don’t try to claim the moral high ground.
In truth, I’m shocked that you even came here,
your presence just drags the whole evening down.
Dad sent us o all the best private schools,
Ivy-league colleges, connections galore,
you aced them all, and now what do you do?
Paddle damn tourists around a lakeshore!
Most folks would kill for the chances you had,
you at least could have made something of it.
The rest of us did, not so ungrateful,
yet you feel no shame, not even one bit!”
Ron just looked at him, and there in his eyes
was something like pity, aimed back at him.
Worse still, his fool of a younger brother
still kept on his face that maddening grin.
“I’d try to explain,”said Ron defiantly,
“But I’ve tried before, you can’t understand.
Tell your ego to find its fix elsewhere,
and keep you voice down, we’re here for that man.”
Pat just scoffed and shook his head at all this,
said, “Fools don’t get to tell me what to do.
I guess every family has a loser,
and in ours there’s no question it’s you.”
CONTINUES IN PART II.
Spill it all out
Where is the light to guide these words?
Everything feels gone
Empty again
So spilling it out is impossible?
Yet words still flow through it all
Thoughts still run rampant
Broken pipework spraying all over the place
Rust collecting on the spurting silver
Losing very inch of pride
Unable to control these lines
Pinch it all out
Squeeze it like the last bits of toothpaste in a tube
Roll it up and twist the remains
Pressure is building
Tension is steadily, stiffly waiting
To be released
Let it all go!
There is no point anymore
Stop building on disaster!
Let the words flow
Spill the damn mess out
And don't clean up
Let me pick up the pieces
Hand me the mop
Because when it is finally all out
The emptiness will leave
You'll know exactly what to express
It will all be clear
4-20-13
I get up every morning
From my eyes I wipe the sleep
I make it to the bathroom
And slowly get relief
I look into the mirror
And the reflection that I see
Is something, I don’t know what
Looking back at me
I struggle to the kitchen
And then click on the light
I stumble to the counter
It’s really quite a fight
I’m searching through the cabinets
And My treasure I do find
I finally get my coffee on
It’ll take a little time
Standing with my cup in hand
This process is damn slow
Standing here and waiting
For my very first cup of Joe
I finally get my first cup made
The first taste hits my lips
As I slowly roam the house
Enjoying every little sip
As I finally come alive
And start this day off right
My coffee I do appreciate
Its really out of sight
There's something that I'd like to do
to take away your say.
And tell you that you're no damn good,
too lazy and too stray.
For starters I would say to think
of what you want to do.
And tell you that of what you think
your whole life's just a view.
Then what I'd have to say to that
is you aren't up for that.
And tell you that your whole damn life
has added up to scat.
When you would think you're so damn bad
you're dumb enough to say-
"Why don't you think that I'll do that,
and have my way today?"
But we both know you're so damn sad
you'll never do a thing.
And only I know just to say
You're not enough to spring.
So here I go to save your azz
and tell you you're to bring-
you're dreams to be-to door to be
and open up to swing.
But you will say it's too damn hard
and I will say you're right.
And you will know I'm too damn tired
to send a man to fight.
So all I'll say is all I'll do
is sing a song of might.
And you will say I hear these words
I sing to you tonight.
I think you can, I think you can
I think you can be light.
I think you can, I think you can
be everything that's right.
I think you can, I think you can
learn what it is to spright.
I think you can, I think you can
turn every thought to flight.
I think you can, I think you can.
That is what I'll say.
I think you can, I think you can
hear every word this way.
I think you can, I think you can
sing my song this way.
I think you can, I think you can
learn every song this way.
I think you can.