Oh No! There went the Bell...and I'm LATE!
NO! There's that Hall Monitor I HATE!
First, he Knocked off my HAT...
Then, Clocked me with a BAT!
Oh, why did his his Parents have to MATE!
Next day, Slapped me and Spit in my FACE!
Then he Pepper Sprayed my Eyes with MACE!
With Burning, RAGE FILLED TEARS!!
And Prior SOCCER YEARS!!
I Kicked his JACK JOHNSTON into SPACE!!!
Who can remember the first time we felt the beat of our heart?
Was it when we first kissed or had it broken?
Possibly, it was when we were first told about the metaphorical love of the heart!
Maybe it was when we used it as appreciation for one’s token!
Whether it beats in the light or the rain!
The warmth goes on in the cold and shocks us to the core!
The hidden thoughts of the mind become our Bain!
It goes through to the soul as it moves quickly like an iron bore!
Gripping the heart and soul together is either blissful in a warm embrace
Or it is a cold vice hold on our emotions
Let the warmth of our enemies be to their face a wet mace!
Maybe we should curse our choices and devotions.
In my heart, you are the burning kindle upon my fire!
You are the one who set ablaze my smile and rekindled my desire!
Feel like im 1 of 1 in this torn apart world, if i turn cold thats undone
seen with my past mistakes
nothing new under the sun, someone else has sat in this place
a world where we keep a loaded gun and a mask to cover our face
from pain we easily run i guess were scared of the mace
Showin love will get you hung, what a shame or disgrace
look what the devil has brung now were corrupted by toxic waste
speak evil in fears of them cutting your tongue, caught up like a rat in this race
And the flash of reel will have you stunned so in turn we walk away (real,reel)
Our thoughts we keep concealed, worried how the other portray
Like a rat running on a wheel till our bodies decay
My skin ill allow you to peel even if you poison my bod-ay
Im looking for something real like "whats outside of this cage"
Im bitin at the steel maybe one day we'll all escape...
You take a break ill keep biting till my body you cant resuscitate, I'll keep fighting till me and death got a lovely dinner date.
The Early Years
She is to entertain 20 people
I fried up 20 cucumbers
5 lbs. Of okra
In a grit and Parmesan cheese
And bits of bacon in the batter
Some spices, mace, cayenne , paprika
Garlic and onion powder in the
Bater*w/flour and eggs baking soda*
I roasted a teriyaki style pork loin
And sliced it thin with commercial
Mixer, I mean the slicer
A creamy sauce to top it
With vinager , jalapeno, lime
Cream cheese and sour cream
With a touch of fish stock and a
Drop or two of gin, extra dry honey!
Fixed some cheesy grits
Fried some green tomatoes
Steamed some shrimp
And made crab balls
And a pot of
Hollindise
With lime and tequila
and cayenne, Sweet Missie
Slap my ass!
Strawberry shortcake
With
A rummy strawberry sauce
Whipped cream
And vanilla ice cream
Ya'll that's ah party!
Slurp the white zinfendell
And tug at your drawels
She got to take
Notice of this
Mans efforts!
Biscuits sweet like cookies
Dix's wanna pound sum
P*ssie!
I"it'ss s ah love thang! "
Beware if you find yourself in a dark dank place
You may become the prey of Old Schnozz Face
Don't bother spraying him with a can of mace
He's a Vampiric creature of the Mosquito race
I detest the sound of his buzz buzzing in my ear
When in bed, that irksome droning sound I hear
That long needle nose is a grotesque thing to fear
I'd put something in his bag that came from a pee'er!
"Mosquito Man, why do you bother wearing pants?"
His reply came across as more angry whirring rants.
If their needles break, can mosquitoes get implants?
He just landed on a painting, one of my Rembrandts
It's way past time for me to put this skeletal pest away
The plan I have in mind will put an end to him, I pray
I've been bitten and harassed for the last time today
I'm taking out the big gun to fry him with a gamma ray!
"Alone is an addiction for Agoraphobics," ... by The Poet
Fireplace, beg a question; spark fuels naught?
Tired face lit the embers that awaken,
iron mace walled, beyond, fox and bears fraught.
My birthplace well-hushed that quiet sneak-in.
Contented engraved on my face, falsely,
consent and circumstance, hunger and thirst,
extent and measure, fed and quenched shortly,
ingested fully well, blessed, and naught cursed.
Accordingly, dawn swaps late noon's plum skies,
rewardingly, I stepped outside to pause,
awarding me sunsets that soothe my eyes.
Artistry; that the dusk paints when it draws.
Twilight ascends, sunlight lost, moonlight found.
Finite embers dim, alert eyes remained,
my sight sees, the fire's out, I'm bedroom bound.
Divine light flits fears, embrace Grace proclaimed.
There’s a constant hammering
Alongside my bedroom window
Repercussions of a corrupt gutter
The maddening drain
Obstinately and persistently has refused
All rehabilitation efforts
There are no
drip drip drips
Only
Pound Pound Pounds
As water clashes with wood and metal
The clangor must be amplified
By a loudspeaker
To make such minute water drops
Sound like a crazed gongsman
Locked in a metallic chamber with a battle mace
With no distinct pattern
The piercing pattering
Thwack Thwack Thwacks
Proclaiming,
“You will find no peace here!”
And yet
Its constant monotone irritation
Somehow
Lulls me to sleep
KINGDOM COME
The blood runs hot through royal veins
Ready for the throne, and to finally rule
But it has now to be a battle, not a duel
What one pretender loses, another gains
In muddy fields, many lives shall be lost
To raise the standard and claim the prize
Yet it is still kingship but in another guise
It’s a pity the common folk bear the cost
I’ll take the crown and hold up the mace
Assembling all nobles who are true to me
Pledging their loyalty as was meant to be
But some might see suspicion in my face
Ancestral claims should have the final say
This powerful army makes it more certain
Yet I’ll always check behind every curtain
But it first depends on who wins this day
I'm a song without a chorus
And my mind is rather porous
Been down this road before
Questioning why I'm back for more
Words bounce around in my head
When for years I thought they were dead
For years I watched myself bleed
Ignoring the things I need
But it's a waste of my headspace
To fight gunfire with a mace
So here I stand one more time
Lost in the echoes of rhyme
Because deep down I love this
And the scene is what I miss
Green greed feeds the machine
With wanted posters asking if I've been seen
But I'm not Waldo, you don't need to find me
I'm here for all of you to see
With a pen that still drips with ink
It really has to make you think
If passion can truly come and go
Then what do any of us know
But I've paid my fine
And lost my place in line
But that's just fine
I'll carve it out with each new line
A subtle repetition in the flow
And maybe everything will glow
But I am not a gimmick to be written off
Even if I've fed from the trough
I'm just a song without a chorus
And my mind is rather porous
I'll just have to sing hard enough
So my words are good enough
The day was when the crowd came out in a massive drive for the old elephant.
The graveyard was the last day of this red associate; however, they did not lie down!
Becoming a goldened tusk with ivory and diamonds, they become the shrine of the elephant!
All the populace around the waterhole went into the small town without backing down!
Moving through the small grid to the street of many walkers, the group was on arms.
An immature girl was asked about her presence, to which she stated “that it was a revolution”
These arms were a sight of pure ignorance that the past members of truth would rather stay on the farms!
Human growth is notable when each new generation fares better than the last; however, this girl was a product of de-evolution.
Hark to the fools who believe in stupidity and the false words of a toothless chia pet!
Words of honor have never passed the lips of the annoying orange!
It is time to take this person for a check-up to the vet!
You had the world of fools believing in your words! You are beyond an annoying orange!
Was Nostradamus talking about the 20th Century?
Maybe he was speaking about the 21st Century!
Poem for Mr. Romance,
Barely met him by chance,
A smile, a glow, charming
My dreams never harming,
Life happens, along the way,
He did turn back one day,
After all those years,
Eyes shine, my dears,
Shyly, I walked away,
Did not know what to say,
Keep to myself these days,
Beguiling love, it's his way,
Do his dates need mace,
Birth control, or grace?
Loving hearts, forever young,
Happy brains, so much fun!
Pointy, the pig rider came around the corner with a screech.
He was sitting at the top of the zebra bowls, his whip was a reach.
Why does he always have to outdo the rest of us? Asked Mr. Mace.
Angry now because Poindy and the bowls were winning the race.
Take a battering ram to the other side
The recoil will do me harm
A knife and spoon will suffice
Break the gates violently with arms
It will seal itself again and entice
It will swallow my body with charms
It will spit me out again with vices
Put down that aching piece of log
Give these hands other than a mace
They are meant for more than war
Give it a last heave-ho just to tease
Grab any pen knife, make a scar
Whittle that mad log to a canoe
Each shaving an ordinary day
Look not upon the door with lust
Hop in the dugout after years of fray
The current takes me to the other side
Break through the door every May
But I hold onto that old log that died
The door on the river never sways
My citadel’s veil unbreached cries
It’s hard to face the day without a ram
Shave off my horns to be a lamb
My shepherd beckons on His raft
Lift me up from muddy waters damp
Onto my battering ram lashed
Break on through the other side
Day to day may I be washed
Hour to hour may hopes be dashed
The gate is straight ahead
Let go of the ram for good
Kindly cut the door with scissors
Only sheared lambs enter
The noise and the grime
the mushrooming crime
junkies and beggars abound
Strange folks in your face
steal your car, spray some mace
Who wants to vacation downtown ...
This year I'll cede culture
to the buzzard and vulture
as in soft meadows I lie
when my poems mumble
find words around will fumble
stupid and on would stumble
are things cat enjoys
likes playing with kitty toys
and girls with boys
while idiots will bloom
for us God made room in tomb
so sins He can consume
when with love liter
God became my baby sitter
sinner am quitter
when we found some mace
cat would make a funny face
running set the pace
when my eyes were teary
outside it had been dreary
of we would be leery
when we came to terms
you could see so many worms
consuming all the germs
when being prevalent
they would be ambivalent
all the rules have bent
when we entertain
rather than being insane
we will need a brain
when we saw menu
reading we must continue
seeing sharp sinew
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