Nightstick Poems - Poems about Nightstick

... they come down on you with their silver badges and rusted hearts, nightstick morality, a fist of laws so tight you can hear my knuckles crack. they'll jail the hungry, the weak, the lost ......

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...When the light comes on, roaches will scatter Scampering for the nearest crack, crevice or hole When gossip comes to a deaf ear, there's an abrupt stop to all chatter Expeditiously in comes the ju......

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...Noah Sharp wakes up in the middle of a fitfully frantic Friday night sleep. Compelled to bring forth elephants, dinosaurs and tigers out of the deep. The toy chest has fashioned itself into an arc,......

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...Todesfugue ("Death Fugue") by Paul Celan loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Black milk of daybreak, we drink you come dusk; we drink you come midday, come morning, come night;......

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...Lost for the children of the Holocaust and the Nakba by Michael R. Burch Something inescapable is lost— lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight, vanishing in a gust of wind ......

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...There once was a prizefighting cop named Mick Whose two fists flew furiously quick He saw a big rowdy drunk Whose awful breath really stunk Mick flashed his badge, then took out his nightst......

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...Auschwitz Rose by Michael R. Burch There is a Rose at Auschwitz, in the briar, a rose like Sharon’s, lovely as her name. The world forgot her, and is not the same. I still love her ......

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...Big Marty Milano Blue-veined sausage nose slightly off center toward the right side of a florid cop face white-gloved hands directing traffic to the piercing rhythm of staccato blasts from ......

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...Thanx Maya When the battlefields become only fields. When the swords of hope, become only hope. When money is worthless and only hearts do we steal. When all is said and done…only then will w......

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...Shark art, the romance of nothingness Homeless vagabond’s discuss the emptiness of soup cans ......

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...Don't forget to cross the Ts and dot your Is because if you don't do that they're just lines vertical on a page. Lets us forget about the imperfect words that make us cry the vertical lines, like jai......

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...Blessed is the world because of Beethoven's music. Escaping pain, he played piano for his father. Enduring, to avoid the wrath of the nightstick, Transforming musical style; never mediocre. Hopel......

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...She who holds a seamlessly symmetrical silhouette so supple to the touch coupled by hips on sticks of tango, that inimitable set of pins simper at all that you clutch Bob nearer the eyes of......

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