Long Unarmed Poems
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There’re many bow-down bitches that talk a mean game.
Sending their sons to war, they just can’t bare that pain.
They’d rather see people of color dying on the front lines.
While theirs fly the drones, and follow from behind.
Just look at the numbers, ‘cause the numbers don’t lie.
How many black people are CIA or FBI?
We’ll never know the numbers, because it wouldn’t make sense.
That total number is likely less than five percent.
Down in the foxhole is actually what makes men.
They sing the National Anthem like it belongs to them.
Without the help of slaves the Civil War couldn’t be won.
These United State of America, there wouldn’t be none.
The Jim Crow types would shut everything down.
The law of the land is what happened to Michael Brown.
Bow-Down Bitches thrive when they have numbers.
Aiming for the back of unarmed brothers.
16% of black students get suspended 43% of the time.
From the cradle to the jail surely comes to mind.
The bow-down bitches have a genuine fear.
Because long after they’re gone we’ll still be here.
They may not see it, but God has a plan.
He’ll make known to them, who was original man.
And, just before they try to go too far.
They’ll bow down to us as the Gods we are.
12/29/20
"Snow Globe"
Respect the virtuoso
You don't or you know so
Life can be peligroso
People going loco
Humans addicted to chocolate aka cocoa
And the other kind of coco (cocaine)
On a high horse, acting like your the major-domo
Here I am, shaking a snow globe
I failed, I passed and I was so close
I excelled, backtracked and showed no growth
By being a bozo
It was or wasn't recorded on a Go-Pro
Life going up and down like a Pogo
Sometimes wearing Polo
Got my saber like Solo
Staying on the low low
No matter what, I don't need to 'E.T. phone home'
All these women so-so
Always posing for photos
Judging a book by the cover is proto
Days and nights yo-yo
Kept in the dark or receiving promo
She was doing the go-go
Others remained sad or were saying " Ho-Ho"
Unarmed or strapped with a fo-fo
Getting crumbs, a slice or the whole loaf
Obtaining zilch, some or it by the boatload
Close and far from po-po
You are so far from my sole hope
She told me her and I was a no-no
Because I was just a joe blow
Never once phased me, too worried about logos
Not ever going to spend time with me and Toto
Catch you on the flipside girl, since you treated me like a hobo
Will or won't happen near Point Lobos
Having nothing or something to do with Cronos
By the way, shout out to Quasimodo
Across the ground the leaves are strewn
set down by rushing wind.
A multicolored carpet yellow, orange, red and brown
crushing crunchy beneath my feet.
A late evening walk cautious steps in the dark
under a pale moon and twinkling stars.
A chill drops down cold and promising
an end to autumn reign.
Decayed foliage wafts heavy musk
in the cool evening air.
Fully harbored memories dancing images in rising smoke
stacks of fires burn within.
Sensuous the cold embrace invigorating bodies unarmed
by hooded sweatshirts and fleece.
The ground hardens quick frost sets low on the grass
before the morning sun rise.
Pale and white the glowing ball breaches the horizon
as the north east wind races in.
From trees fall wild and set free the remainder
leaves of summer and fall
as autumn bids its last goodbye.
My god, red bra, orange pants, and green socks, I’m making love to a traffic light.
Get on with it.
I can’t, where do I start.
What does it matter?
It matters a lot, if I start with your bra, do I stop, or do I drive on knowing three penalty points and an eighty pound fine are coming my way. Do I start with your pants, amber gambling, if I start with your socks, then that’s it, I’m away?
Well, what do you expect me to do.
I expect you to dress appropriately for the occasion, I mean, Gok Wan couldn’t fix you.
Well, if we’re in an insulting mood, I don’t like the tiger pants you wear, especially as tigers are nearly extinct.
Oh god, did you really say that, I’m going out with a moron, 0.5 wit.
What does that mean?
It means you’re a half wit.
Well, I was going to get naked, and put my duffle coat on to get you excited, but not now.
Just what every guy wants, a naked girl in a duffle coat.
Some guys would die to see me naked in a duffle coat.
Do you know, you’re right, I've now got this fantasy in my head, put on an orange hat, and wow, pelican crossing.
Get knotted, and I tell you now, that’s the only action you’ll get tonight
Well, in that case I’ll just have to create a fantasy
On he went with it, hallucinating vividly while she stood there, unarmed and furious.
Hell, she was already horny, maybe she could save the situation. She looked down at her pants.
You know, you could still drive, if you haven't already crossed the line.
His eyes opened quickly, as if trying to catch her lying. He considered it...
Lose the bra and the socks
Lose the tiger get up
Both coming halfway, they now stood in the bedroom, one more naked than the other. Still a little insulted, she went on to caress his member.
He, too stubborn to show his pleasure, gazed at the ceiling, feigning boredom.
Furious, she slapped him across his face with a high-pitched shriek, picked up her things and walked towards the door, getting dressed on the go.
Realizing he had gone too far and that he was now all up and running, he tried to change her mind.
BAM went the door.
She'll call.
Peace or Problems
Do we want peace or just more problems? Whatever shall it be?
We will always have our differences, that is a strength for all to see.
There are countries in this world, where freedom has all been lost.
This happens when people are unarmed, it ends with a terrible cost.
If you lived in North Dakota, you would never have such fear.
We are armed with rifles and scopes, which are used for hunting deer.
I have made running headshots for years, many over 300 yards.
There are 30 guns in my home, government control is not in the cards.
Every household out here is armed, some more heavily than mine.
If I ever run out of ammo, I have strong dogs who will hold the line.
I have no fear of government, this is my home, and I will never run.
We will always be invincible; I am protected by God and my gun.
We can stay warm without any grid; we know how to live off the land.
We are a formidable force, not just some little boy band.
I think we should all get vaccinated, that is just what I believe.
But I will die for your right to choose, my convictions will never take leave.
School didn’t teach me about human behaviour
if I had known the basics it would have been my saviour.
How could I anticipate those so different to myself
prepared to make the lowly moves that I would not have dealt
who don’t know honest competition
attacking from stealthy positions
branding negativity
on everyone they ever see
against a person unaware
talked about when they ain’t there
a rumour lie or story where
their reps destroyed out of thin air
The slanderously unarmed soul
who has no talent if truth be told
delivering tales that unfold
of someone bad of someone cold
feeding minds a narrative
some gossip to be parroted
of he or she and what they did
to make you judge the way they live
and while the people sit and listen
there is one thing they are missing
the person talking in their vision
seeing them for whom they isn’t
because liars talk they have to lie
they say it first do you know why?
To get it out ahead of time
they plant events into the mind
while truth has no such motivation
it’s dealing with the situation
not trying to win over the nation
like liars do in desperation.
Pay attention to the person talking not who they talk about
speak to the one they talk of and be sure to hear them out
the one who plays the hero plays the victim without doubt
they make others look negative in all they say and shout
Pay attention to the person talking not who they talk about
To be loved,
Is to be confused.
It’s receiving roses without thorns,
And looks without scorn.
The feeling of melting in someone’s arms,
While being unarmed.
It’s being afraid of the dark,
But knowing the moon shines afar.
The wind that brushes hair from your face,
Making your life suffice.
The moth that’s usually drawn to the flame,
Waits by the porch light to hear you say its name.
The glitter on the floor you can’t get rid of,
The thread in the cloth that you stitch.
The one you get to keep secret,
Safely tucked away in your pocket.
Even if their mention never leaves your tongue,
They still make you think you’re enough.
Because they’re job is to confuse you,
And to never leave you.
Because even after they’re gone,
They still linger on.
In the perfume that they wear,
And in the roses that they share.
Johnny got his gun that May day
sent by Nixon's cronies to betray unarmed souls
to Kent State with rifles, bayonets,
and thirteen students were gunned down on the grass knoll.
With cries against Dick's bloody war
young civilians burned and swore, "bring the warriors home."
They had enough of gore and lies
of Unconstitutional Wars and napalm bone.
We've guns at home, guns abroad
"What are we fighting for?" they cried out, and were killed
Few even remember a name
of four young people, Allison, Jeff, Sandra and Will.
A Republic formed by revolt
remembers well how to gain, get your gun my son
for Big Brothers got his again
and a bullets a very hard thing to outrun.
*The Kent State Massacre - May 4, 1978
Never never forget your own government took rifle toting
bayonette pointed troops onto college campuses and killed
four unarmed students, youths and wounded more, paralyzing
one. If they could do this.....
A striking figure pierced the fog
That lay upon the ground that day
The battle raged on all night long
But neither side was brought to bay
The soldier walked, as in a trance
I saw the color of his cloth
An enemy, has now advanced
And made his way a crossed the croft
I looked down at my rifle then
Sought to load another round
But found, I loosened up my grip
And watched it fall unto the ground
I look back to the man to see
As I stood there, unarmed that day
And wondered, "What's come over me"
And in my heart began to pray
Willing to slay, not one more soul
My life now placed in jeopardy
Mindful of who placed it there
Besieged by such self-treachery
I left my trench, and walked toward him
To reap the fate, for what I've sewn
And somewhere in my thoughts of thoughts
I felt as if, I 'as going home
But then His gun slipped from his hand
And standing there for all to see
I looked into his eyes to find
That I, had been, thee enemy
Watermelon dreams
Weigh heavily on her
What happened to their garden?
What happened to their seed?
She was going to be someone rich and famous
Accomplished, learned.
Special, adored, revered.
Well loved by the masses.
Watermelon dreams.
Too heavy, became a burden
Seemed to be unattainable.
She became overwhelmed.
They alarmed her, unarmed her.
She felt stymied, confused, destroyed.
The stepping stones which used to seem plausible
Became burdensome.
Watermelon dreams.
She wishes she had replaced them long ago
With strawberry dreams,
Sweet, unpretentious, attainable dreams.
Succulent, fragrant, tasty dreams.
Maybe a husband, family
She saw herself with a cat and a pony.
Was it too late at seventy-two? She did not know.