Oh, time you furry bastard
Nibbling at my heels
Chasing my dreams
Into dark alleys
Mugging the moments
Placing deadlines on life
Refusing to allow
A moments peace
To conspire
And believe in the hope
Of a day
Devoid of time’s terror
Of waiting for a sunset
To soothe
The angst of a shrinking moon
Quiet the shriek
Of the hungry birds
Invite the coyote
To walk the city streets
Looking for a dinner companion
As I tuck myself in
For a restless night
bejewelled… dazzling…
gleaming gemstones shattered…
mafia mugging
When I was young I wasn't much into hugs
or prolonged touch..
I tolerated a peck on the cheek or a kiss
on the forehead before falling asleep..
Probably due to my older sis and her bear like
hugging, a mixture of love and her strength,
that often felt like a mugging..
Many a time I'd balk at requests to be hugged,
two bodies colliding.
It felt too intrusive to me and awkwardly confining.
My second husband changed this all and in time
my hugging dislike was solved.
He gave such secure and comforting hugs, my body
would melt with the strength of his love.
Once a client asked me for a hug at the end of his massage session.
This is a definite red flag for therapists in that profession.
In these recent years now I live alone, several hours from family
and my native home.
At times I miss the intimacy of a hug, that close and calming connection
that leaves one feeling snug.
I'm certain there's others who feel the same way. Why don't we have free
hugging stations for humans today?
You go to the gas station and get a free hug, while the car's tank is filling you also feel love!
How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways.
I loathe thee so that I throw up on sight
Of thee, and when my ire is at a height,
I grit my teeth and plot revenge for days.
My loathing for thee, cheater, takes its toll.
Thy empty claims of innocence, I scorn.
I caught thee thrice! My trust was from me torn.
To see thee broke and hungry is my goal.
I loathe thee with the passion I once spent
On sweet romance when I thought thee sublime.
I’d like to see thee living in a tent.
Indulge me as I tell thee one more time
I'd gladly pony up my last red cent
To have thee maimed if mugging weren’t a crime!
Sometimes it’s time to say goodbye.
You finished your lost journey, now go!
To where you are loved and can really fly.
To a place where you are hugged and
there is no back-door mugging..
Where best friends do not drop you like
a hot match.
Nor kick your butt out. and then firmly
lock the friendship key latch.
You were so dense~you simpleton, you
even wrote tributes to them?
Believed in their phony words,wretched one,
go read them again!
They did not like you,old,gullible,poet hen.
You were but a name, a thing to be used,
an insect to gotten rid of..
Your blind naïveté is simply astounding,…
Believing in their blarney that was mean,
and unmatched to reality.
False, phony, flattery…again and again.
To your human heart~ sinful and foreign!
4/16/2023
(I don't know if this makes sense and I'm wondering what this meant to you)
It’s a long haul to see how it’s made...
Peace lies beneath every struggling plate...
Hounded the moments to take an oath...
To set things right not to misery when fought…
Wasted arguments take no, no lies...
Beacon facets, giving a dull light...
Wisdom imputed memories from behind...
Mugging inner being to stand and strive…
Foe and actions needed to hide...
Where everyone else’s arms are off wide...
Minds are painted in black and white...
Stranded on its inner quenching mind...
teetering the streets early morning dawn
as I left the swagger at the bar guzzling beers
I encountered the devil
the butt of a gun stopped the fun of insouciance
as for ever four metal plates in the face
not deter day or night the walk of evil
for the what not of few dollars in a pocket
an attempt at a slot to produce more
and the debit keeping its pin from you I smile still
For Hayley Nutland, a homeless girl who apprehended a man who mugged an elderly lady in my home town
The word on the street is that Hayley done good
A considerable feat for the girl from the wood
She caught him, she taught him, that crime doesn’t pay
She sought him, she fought him, he got put away
There are good folk and bad folk, it’s not always clear
Some folk have a toke, and drink buckets of beer
But at mugging and stabbing, this girl draws a line
She witnessed the grabbing, gave chase, and done fine
So think twice when you say that someone is a zero
Today, doff your hat, because Hayley’s a hero
by Gail
They Call It Wounded Knee
I came, I saw, I cried;
To the field where they died.
They call it Wounded Knee;
My peoples' history.
Bodies lying, frozen to the ground;
No mourners to be found.
Children still clinging to their mothers;
Laying dead beside their brothers.
The smell of death in the air;
Pools of blood everywhere.
Babies with their heads bashed in;
To waste an army bullet on them would be a sin.
Soldiers surveying their wicked deeds;
Mugging for pictures with the "savage" breed.
Celebrating the slaughter of the Sioux;
Burial is for Christians, but for Indians a mass grave would do.
Sporting medals upon their chest;
Saying that they conquered the west.
Taking the lives of an entire race;
Feeling no remorse or disgrace.
I came, I saw , I cried;
I asked questions of why.
The people of Wounded Knee;
Could not have life and liberty.
The answer was simply said;
"Kill the animals until they're all dead".
"Let my God sort them out";
Land is what it's all about.
The place where the mighty Sioux fell;
Is a white man's hell.
Once was a place of pride;
The field where they died.
Darlene Doll Smith
The sun slowly rises over the horizon
casting its rays turning night to day.
Chasing away the lingering darkness
revealing the hills and shadow cast valleys.
Details become more apparent showing
the pretty flowers and stately trees.
With lake's waters glistening brightly
reflecting the beaming sun rays.
Peace of day now shattered by
the raucous chorus of crows.
As dipping down they fly
mugging the other birds.
Soon scattering at gunfire
from the farmers crop scarer's.
Joyful tunes now abound
As song birds sing out their hearts
Welcoming dawn's warm rays
hustle and bustle as people awake
and tranquillity slips away
as dawn becomes full day.
No not the portrait when you were younger, my dear
Just a Polaroid snapshot at the beach that year
No earrings, no make-up, your hair was a mess
("So what? Got a problem? I couldn't care less!")
Brother-in-law behind you, mugging like a fool
Our nephew beside him, trying to look cool
You had a little patch of sand on your chin
But oh, what a smile; what a wide, joyful grin!
Living that moment, on a rollicking high
Complete in the present, no when and no why
(Now you're tucked away safe in our own special place
So you'll always stay with me when I tremble and ache
Sometimes I unfold you when I miss you too much
Press you tight to my forehead and weep at your touch)
True or Not True
No one loves me baby
Cause I am dog gone mean.
I have to have my way
Or I start to shout and scream.
(NOT true!)
I am as helpless as a kitten
Or so it seems.
I wear verbal boxing mittens
Beneath blue moonbeams…
(True? Or NOT true?)
There is no time for hugging
Passion is very lean.
I am fearful of a mugging
And all things in between…
(PART True!)
No one loves me baby
I am in my safety shell.
I do not mean maybe.
It is thicker than…Oh, well.
(PART True.)
Hey. Do you poets love me?
I think I am turning green.
I am looking in the mirror.
But my face is not seen.
(WHAT?!?)
Hatred, envy… I abhor.
I am opinionated.
Heavenly ways, I adore.
Godly love anticipated.
(True.)
Who loves me, baby?
I can only say for sure.
God and Jesus love me.
They are my hope and cure.
(True.)
Okay. Okay! Okay!!!
Many love me dearly.
Both here and up above,
I feel your love near me.
(Thank you and God above.)
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 3, 2010
Inspired by Deborah Guzzi’s “Who Loves You, Baby” contest.
Why are some people so nasty and cruel,
These days it just seems,it seems to be the norm,
Some are mugging and some are killing,
And look what they kill for a couple of shillings,
There is probably little things that we might of stole,
But look at things now, its getting out of control,
The kids today think their all tough,
Lets give them big sentences it time to play rough,
Its time the courts took control,
Lets make some heads roll roll roll,
I was a little sod in the past,
But now i seen the light at last,
If i can stop i child from getting put in a cell,
Then i could stop them from going,going through hell
Have you ever noticed how people smile at newborn babies?
Why? There is a beauty about them which stands up and demands attention.
There also is an extraordinary beauty in you. We spend most of our days mean- mugging
(looking mean), fake smiling and laughing at communication that is really not funny.
What about looking in the mirror and smiling at you every now and then? Those radiating
lips, gorgeous multi- skin colors and unique backgrounds.
The drive you possess which makes you more than one woman.
A Wife, Girlfriend, Mother, Diva and Business Woman.
If the lady of the house is unhappy the whole house is unhappy.
The strength to give birth and mental stability to raise a child in the way he or she should go.
You pray for everybody else but what about praying for you?
You care for everybody else but what about caring for you?
People say you are crazy if you talk to yourself and answer.
Well, I have discovered for myself most of the time I receive the best solutions.
Anything that is destined to better you will be talked about and challenged.
I have also discovered you are worthy to smile with and at yourself.
Torrents of opinion replacing fact
Barons control all that scrolls on that crawl
Silicon graphics--deceitful contract
Prometheus stealing fire from all
Tools of alarm promote profit-sharing
Octopus minds plot for us to keep less
Credulous masses need a good scaring
Agendas provoked by careful duress
Flirtatious hosts with no care for this world
Reading the script that our owners have planned
Digital mugging while flags are unfurled
Send kids to die in some far-away land
Empire building requires complicity
They seek to captivate delicate minds
Trust funds abound to buy publicity
To grease-up the wheel till the war mill grinds
Editors selling their duty for spin
Get their grim orders from round table groups
Twin tower fright proves a useful linchpin
Raising the false-flag to sign up more troops
Follow the money, their plan becomes clear
Domination fuels their crusade for more
Pipelines of oil cutting through the frontier
Hide wealth behind the hoax of holy war
Resist the program that boxes us in
See the real world with a clear set of eyes
Trust the brave soul that resides in your skin
And watch the bright flame of liberty rise
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