Alcatraz was built for this escape,
pass me the bars I’ll break them again.
As I flow the words move off script,
jazz on the lows send ink to my pen.
Rules cannot keep the abstract at bay,
schools teach and breed nonconformity.
Tools are as good as their playground,
mules like the mind demand to be free.
Two Mules
Miracle Man
4/7/2025
It’s so easy to plow when things always please,
when one is stubborn the other must appease,
But when harnessed together both must believe.
then be amazed at what two mules can achieve.
A mule’s dream
A farmer was ploughing the field
his tractor was pink in the idyllic landscape
He ran out of diesel and went to get some more
at the nearest petrol station
A cloud descended, wrapped to the tractor in wool
and took it up to heaven
When the farmer returned, the tractor was gone
The mule, unemployed, spending days under a carob tree
saw the farmer go to fetch the harness
Together, as before, they ploughed the field
Raggedy Mules
Ghosts of the past
on their raggedy mules,
Clichéd and typecast
as infidels and fools,
Travelling nearby
in their caravans of woe
And in the blink of an eye
know what we know.
All that we fear
and all that we yearn,
They see and hear
as they twist and turn,
Through love and hate,
beyond life or death,
The journey of fate
lies on laboured breath.
On a wing and a prayer
we wallow in doubt,
Grasping at thin air
trying to get out,
But how pitiful we are
with our ifs and buts,
Never getting very far
as each door shuts.
Stranded in the void
between Heaven and Earth
We seek out the paranoid
to confirm our birth,
And they stand in line
pretending to be friends,
And on our souls they dine
when our journey ends.
Foolishly, we follow
with all emotion spent,
In perpetual sorrow,
waiting to be sent
To the archives of insanity
dressed as ghouls,
Where we escape humanity
on raggedy mules.
© RJVHorton2015
The high life is the cause of the drug trafficking lifestyle,
A kilo of contraband, can gain a man/woman respectability
on demand,
Transatlantic flights to and fro, only makes their fortunes grow,
Selling their junk to the suburbs and ghettos,
where the folks are overtaken by their vices,
Making them weak and mello,
Causing their children woes,
The authorities are willing to look the other way,
as long as they get a piece of the "take",
Many will use themselves as vessels,
no one's the wiser until a body part breaks,
Drug mules, they are called, because
they have no limit,
Any quantity will do
as long as they reach their financial
zenith,
Even then, they are never really through,
Their spirits are barren and can easily
be filled by the poisons they transport,
Their souls are empty and their integrity
lacks merit,
Yet, they never give up,
Always on the prowl for compromised
cohorts.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.