the 1934 model 40 B Fordor deluxe sedan idled outside the gas station
Inside was Clyde Barrow, who was robbing the place
His moll, Bonnie Parker, sat inside the car, holding a shotgun
these notorious robbers were deemed “Robin hood figures”
This was the Great Depression; their crime spree teased imaginations
Stories and rumors followed them from Texas to Missouri
They took their gangster car to Oklahoma and New Mexico
Robbing gas stations, and small town banks
People liked watching them shoot things up and act wild
They were famous for their daring and their pizzazz
Bonnie was only twenty four when she died
Clyde was twenty-five, but they are remembered
and weirdly revered, even though they were gangsters
who terrorized people and small town bankers
they outsmarted the police for twenty-one months
their crime spree was a subject of books and a movie
which has continued their legacy; making them forever famous.
It seems that the truth is never quite square
it’s just a bit catywampus you see
All about the way that the cowboys lived
back in them old westerns on our TV
Them outlaws and sheriffs had old six guns
that could shoot forty-nine times on a load
Look real close and see them telephone poles
running alongside an asphalt paved road
Good guys always wore white and bad guys black
with their pearly teeth that sparkled like snow
It just took a minute to saddle up
and get anywhere they wanted to go
They could quick draw and fire their six shooters
And hit a nickel tossed into the air
But they just could never hit the outlaw
till he got to where he’d fall down the stairs
When being chased by a few Indians
they’d throw bullets out the end of their gun
If they did run out of ammunition
that’s when they’d just throw their pistol and run
A hero could get shot right in the chest
but never a drop of red would you see
The next day he’d be out riding his horse
while chasing the outlaws with his posse
At the end of it all the good guy wins
he would get the horse, the dog and the girl
He would live happily ever after
in his black and white TV western world
Odious transgressor,
Often wearing face masks.
Objective - get money.
Ominous demeanor,
Offensive behavior,
Out maneuvers the law.
Ostracized by good folk.
A new sheriff in town named Shaw
Came to get rid of an outlaw
They would slap leather soon
Around the time of noon
Sheriff was faster on the draw!
5-3-2022
The Scales of Justice didn't tip my way,
I figure from the dues I've had to pay.
While thumbing down to Shaky Town
I thought I turn my luck around,
At a drugstore in Salinas on a cold September day.
The Wheel of Fortune, rolled out the door
With the owner tied and ordered to the floor.
As from the till the larger bills
I grabbed until my pockets filled,
A gunshot woke the morning on that cold September day.
My Guardian Angel flew out of town
As my body wretch’d and tumbled to the ground.
There close to death I came to rest,
A sheriff's bullet in my chest.
My ticket back to prison on that cold September Day.
Never caught a glimpse of Lady Luck.
But that ain't going to make me pass the buck.
After 3 to 10 in Folsom pen
And wondering where my life has been,
I walked out in the sunlight on a cold September day.
The Horn of Plenty wouldn’t blow my song,
But somehow through these years I’ve got along.
While never holding nothing more than
Inside straights and hotel doors,
I'll sit out while you dance with life this cold September day.
Dedicated to Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt and John Prine.
Man’s intrinsic apathy's negligence-justified frown
Is the actual defining substance of a mortal clown;
Who with hollowed prejudgments fellow men slays,
And likens to hallowed duty his thoughtless decays.
He is evil's meekest martyr by doom's onus bound,
The cold-blooded outlaw donning dark's lucid veils;
His the bounden call to trim unwary lives that thrive,
His a sworn charge to hit to halt sea's merriest sails.
They're hell's happiest saints of true devoted cadre,
Obstinate desperados who without real reason hate;
Theirs rare glories for wanton vitriol by meanest fate
Met on innocent casualties of villainy's vicious adder.
What grand gratification fills world's cruelest hearts
That sting undeserving souls in most delicate parts?
Why do allegedly feeling minds grow numbest to cry,
Whilst their pleading victims in iron malevolence die?
How can life’s most cognitive kind find sweet preys,
In other creatures alike in mien and all visible ways?
The evil he did nobody saw
he was the right was the law
but judged with nonsense
gave a deceptive sentence
would he be a judge or an outlaw?
When you pulled those stitches out,
You left a scar, a stain,
To remind me of that illicit year,
Of living with insane,
Of knowing that we stole each day,
Like criminals in plain sight,
We danced our dance with all we had,
But then would come the night,
And we’d stay awake in different beds,
In different rooms and different homes,
And fret the day we’d cut each other,
When our love would be exposed,
So now I have a simple scar,
After my chest was slit apart,
A scar that doesn’t want to heal,
Tattooed across my heart.
Crow
Steals my
Fountain pen
Outlaw escapes.
He won’t bring it back;
Still I give chase.
Lucky me,
He’s dropped
It.
Wallowing to the echo of faded dreams,
We bite our tongues to hide our screams.
Swept away by the blur of time,
One must ask if we've done a crime.
For if I am eternal where have I been,
What have I plundered and who do I sin.
Am I an outlaw at the fringe of existence,
A slippery worm well versed in persistence.
One thing I know is that I don't know much,
So when wisdom whispers you must hush.
I'm always trying to get behind the curtain,
Scoping out the situation so I may be more certain.
Certain of what I don't know,
Perhaps why should I stay and where should I go.
Life leaves much to be desired,
Days drag on leaving one tired.
But I suppose it could be worse,
Officially I am under no curse.
Still though it's all so strange,
The Universe comes with quite the range.
From the ant to the whale,
The dark to the pale.
There are those young and old,
Some are cowards while others are bold.
A mysterious world waiting to be exposed,
An open door that can't be closed.
I step up to the question,
That what has humanity forgot to mention.
Racism kills
Outlaw racism
Racism deprives
Outlaw racism
Racism deceives
Outlaw racism
Racism steals
Outlaw racism
Racism manipulates
Outlaw racism
Racism distorts
Outlaw racism
Racism ultimately denies someone else's rights and entire existence
Outlaw racism
I am an outlaw for Christ,
I know he paid the price,
I don’t have to think twice,
He was the ultimate sacrifice.
The devils always trying to keep me quiet,
Accusing me of starting a riot,
But, it’s the truth that sets men free
So there is no one that can stop me.
I have graduated from old ways,
I’m at the alter with both my hands raised
To the author and finisher of my salvation
I now only care about his reputation.
I find it funny how no one spoke
When I lived a life that was a sick joke
And now that I have amazing grace
I hear whispers in every place
But, that does not change how I feel
For it’s his presence that is so surreal
I am thankful to be called his friend
I will sing his song until the very end.
By: Sabina Nicole
Limericks crochetés : Once an Outlaw wished to abide by the Law
Once an Outlaw wished to abide by the Law
He married sister to Officer Law -
Then he went to college
Now lawyer in village :
His in-law divorced to marry Outlaw !
He took her case up to Appeal Court
The judges pronounced the divorce naught
So she joined the husband
To form the In-Law bund
To trap couples in marriages fraught
He thus named his law firm : In-Law & Co :
Specialists on marriages broken by law -
His clients were divorced
Payment by cheque not forced :
Outlaws lawyers in-laws knocked on his door !
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Here's a story about a men few heard
his name Zipp Wyat.
Indiana born and raised
with the run they came and squat.
Married a gal in a close town
but soon his life slid to bad
where he ran north to leave town.
Escaping jail in Oklahoma he hid.
Soon this man met another outlaw
and they run to and fro across this state
causing harm to all the law
who per sued them around the state.
Theirs wife's would dress as men
to avoid the law on the hunt.
Gypsum hills is where the hid from men
and the wives were sent.
Many raids had been done by the duo
till Ike was was killed by the law.
Run on foot he did to find a ride
then hide in a field of corn till the law.
That day he was shot and caught
and sit to die with rot from the shot
He was rsised in New Mexico
and became feared more than Geronimo
The army enlisted him as a brave
to track down other braves.
Accused of many crimes
he escaped many times.
He led many raids
with his four braves.
He didn't trust his tribe
so he stayed on the outside.
People say he died
in a fight with soldiers
others say he died in his cave.
Even ranchers claim
to have killed the brave
down in New Mexico way
after a raid.
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