Long Killed Poems
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He was grizzled, intimidating, the original Viking all in black.
We were fearful, tearful, he was frightened us. We felt lack.
Is he a Viking? A Trojan? A Greek? A devil not clearly seen?
We did not know, so we reported this stranger to our darling queen.
Our queen was not afraid of anything, we had seen this before.
She summoned him to court, but he disappeared, gone forevermore.
We pondered this stranger with blue eyes the rest of our life.
He was a battle of one, scaring us soundly. We all felt the strife.
He was Celtic, a pagan, a man with battle and death on his mind.
He was horrible, a meanie, nothing like our loving sweet kind.
Some said his name was unmentionable, so they would never tell.
One thing for sure, this curious stranger was straight out of hell.
The story of him grew until it could not be contained, alive in the air.
He killed with his bare hands. His ebony coats were made of a bear.
He was a hermit, a rounder, a sounder, a man to be avoided and feared.
We love the stories of him. They are camp fire songs too, many endeared.
There’s starvation in Africa,
In other parts there’s drought,
Putin’s still in the Ukraine
Throwing his weight about.
The Barista in this cafe
Is really annoyed with me.
I’ve ordered a black coffee,
Apparently that’s not PC.
Global temperatures rising,
Polar ice is melting down
America has a President
Behaving like a clown.
I can have coffee without milk
Or a thing called Americano
But by the look on his face
He’d much rather I just go.
Just across the road
A lad was killed with a knife,
A bloke got seven years
For battening his wife.
I’m the despair of a Barista
And others such of his ilk.
I asked a simple question.
What colour’s coffee without milk?
North Korea’s still being bolshie,
China’s threatening Taiwan.
Half the country’s under water,
Way over there in Pakistan.
In Hull I’m causing trouble
By not being sufficiently PC.
To ease an awkward situation
I ordered a pot of tea.
A school of whales beached in Florida
A few more species went extinct
And, here, honours being even,
They at last served me a drink.
I
One more my friend, one more
ice cold beer golden filled,
till I alone face my mortal end
by death’s emissary killed.
Where haunts a ghost of mine
whom I once much owed...
one more my friend, one more,
just one more for the road
II
One more my friend, one more
boding self-evident truth,
but fear not a day of reckoning
nor an everlasting reproof.
Behold the virgin and the whore,
alas both have sins to bear…
one more my friend, one more
fork in a road to nowhere
III
One more my friend, one more
lost courage for me to find,
to forgive a troubled weary soul
and rest with peace of mind.
Let church bells ring for brides
and infants in holy baptism...
one more my friend, one more
old demon for my exorcism
IV
One more my friend, drink up
and seek a blessing now,
seek a true salvation and pray
that you find it somehow.
And if I pass before my time
among the grateful dead…
drink up old friend, drink up
and live long in my stead!
Written: December 1996
The actor I knew
Mikael Elphick, a talented actor
I admired
he liked to read my poems and said they were like stories
and therefore, easy to read
He understood I was trying to find a space between
poetry and prose, that is why I dislike calling
what I write poetry, vignettes seem in order
Mikael was a kind man who liked that I was not
hanger faking friendship and being agreeable to his
political opinions, which I found eccentric
The last time I spoke to him was outside a café, he
was struggling to walk home, I gave him a lift
a reporter from the Sun newspaper sat in a tree
it might have been Pierce Morgan, as we know
has bullied his way on X
a few weeks later, Mickael was dead, killed by
his alcoholism
The youngest boy was killed in Lebanon
My oldest died in the Mekong
I’m left here with only one son
The draft dodger that we named Tom
Our family traditions were strong
We haven’t seen the boy for so long
My anger just isn’t worth it any more
Now I just want my boy back in the door.
Come on home, come on home,
You’ve been gone way too long.
Come on home, come on home,
Your mother waits at the door.
I said some awful things in my pride,
Words that ran like bad, bitter blood.
But a man learns where his heart’s been denied,
When a father’s got no son.
My mind has opened and so too my heart,
I learned the hard way with boys that are gone.
I understand now where it fell apart,
I’m really sorry—that’s where I’ll start.
Come on home,
You’ve been gone way too long.
Come on home.
Every time I disclose
My hearts predisposed
To the hurt that enfolds
Directing my heart to redisclose
All my emotions then re-implode
Leading me to finally explode
I know I've been like this before
Feeling, behaving, and releasing my minds whole
Yet I know this wasn’t my initial goal
To let the world take a peak of my soul
Although here I am still standing as a mold
For the next generation to reach their true goal
So those hearts can connect as one deep haul
Encompassing each and every person’s virtues and entailing’s folds
It’s not for me to distinguish this
The devils kiss makes me think I’m faking it
Id rather be in prison than be killed for this
Instead of being a woman and taking it.
The bloodthirsty reign of Angelus had ended, or so the story has been told,
that after feasting upon and killing the beloved daughter of a gypsy family,
the gypsy shaman cursed Angelus with a soul.
Damned to immortally walk the earth, never to know or pursue happiness,
for if a moment of joy were to be experienced,
it would release the hold of the curse.
His evil darkness would once again return.
His soul once again would be lost.
The power of Angelus's soul and conscience
would avoid this at any cost.
Blood, his only sustenance can no longer be attained from taking human life.
Surrounded by so many a human temptation
is the eternal challenge of Angelus's immortal cursed life.
He now must feed on the blood of vermin, chickens, cattle and swine.
never to know or experience true happiness
or evil Angelus will return big time.
*
"What's happening to me? Something's horrifically wrong.
Why do I have this overwhelming sense of fear that I no longer belong?
What is this crippling feeling that seems to surround me?
Is this what is known as being afraid?
I am Angelus. Things like fear are alien to me.
Just ask any,...just ask any of the many,...just ask,
all the helpless victims I so mercilessly slain.
Sometimes they wouldn't scream. They were too petrified,
but children, children always screamed.
My God, the poor frightened children would always cry before they died.
Why do I now see and feel all the terror I instilled
on all these faces who now haunt me.
My God, all these faces of all these people I killed.
You'd think that with my many centuries past,..
...the past which boasts of all the horrible things I have done.
You'd think that with all I have butchered, killed and maimed
that I wouldn't be able to remember every single last one.
My God, what is happening? Where have I been?
Why was I this monster so consumed with the total embracing of sin?"
He hovered in the corner alone, frightened and cold.
All of his past horrors committed continued to unfold.
The vampire all vampires feared was no more.
He was now cursed with a soul
and the power of conscience is a power that evil can never endure.
The bloodthirsty reign of Angelus had ended,
but there's still more story of this vampire to be told.
Such as his quest for redemption by protecting the helpless,
as Angel, The Vampire with a Soul.
“My name is Jonathan Mellis, I'm solitary confined
In a D.C Jail, where they destroy your mind
They call solitary confinement “the hole”.
They drop you in and let time erode your soul.
It’s hard to cope with this tunnel of sadness I'm facing
At first, I'm lonely and my mind is racing.
After a while this turns into desperate frustration.
Where are my champions in this once great nation?
I try to sleep all day, but I can’t turn the page
Then as energy comes back, I feel a surge of rage
My skin is crawling and the walls close in, there' s no buffer
Because I liked Trump, jailers smile as I suffer
I am Jacob Chansley, I was the guy in the news
I wore that fur hat with horns, not to mention tattoos.
I told protestors to leave, when Trump urged us to go home,
But vengeance wasn't averted when I took that megaphone
We thought the election was tipped by an unseen hand
The one gun fired killed Ashli Babbit, like me a veteran, making a stand
Three hundred days plus in the hole, an undeserved curse
I’ve long had mental issues, and solitary made them worse.
I'm Jake Lang, I've been thrown in the hole, in this hell
Because I posted a video of myself praying in my cell.
Someone had smuggled me a contraband phone
So I tried to show the outside a faith like a stone
I've been in this jail for four years, seeing sadism shown
Nine hundreds of those days, in the hole, alone
Now they tell me the rest of the sentence will be in isolation
How easy power over prisoners morphs to an evil operation
Our leaders didn't express any sign of distress.
Neither Joe Biden nor Harris gave us redress
What happened to our constitution, does anyone care?
The founders meant justice to be speedy and fair.
George Orwell’s specter walks the jail halls
In the name of “our democracy”, liberty falls.
Friends, family, the press should be able to enter
To visit the detained, advocate for the dissenter
Whatever January 6 was about, this point should ring true:
When we lose basic rights, then you do too.
I killed someone today I just put her to sleep
I wish I never did it cuz now I cannot sleep
I took her life to save her from all the pain and misery
She's in a better place now her life is just a mystery
For all the pain I feel inside I pray the lord forgives me
Cuz if he doesn't I don't know what will become of me
I feel ashamed I feel so sick I throw up everytime
I hear her voice inside my head screaming all the time
There's blood on my shirt, on my hands and all over my face
I got thoughts of you touching me with a warm gentle embrace
I knew you for a short time and couldn't wait to see you
But the truth of the matter is that you will never live to
I have to live with this for the rest of my life
Sitting in that waiting room it's like I held the knife
No matter what the circumstances there's no justifications for my actions
Because despite our financial difficulties there's always adoption
I killed someone today I just put her to sleep
I wish I never did it cuz now I cannot sleep
From my younger days as a prisoner of war,
to my last days on the planet Tralfamadore,
with my traveling through time, I have no control.
Both good and bad episodes have taken their toll.
I am passing through time as easily as air.
In one moment, I’m here, and another, I’m there.
Please tell me, why am I being tortured like this?
My capture, plane crash, and wife’s death I reminisce.
I live through the bombing of a German city.
My wife dies while she is on her way to meet me.
On another world, I’m in a menagerie.
A beautiful, but dumb, woman is matched with me.
We live and love together. She has my baby.
I’m killed by my adversary, Paul Lazzaro.
The cause of my problem is what I want to know.
The dilemma I’m in has been causing me strife.
I would give anything to live a normal life.
Based on the novel "Slaughterhouse Five" by the late Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.