Short Mugger Poems

Black hygiene and red sanity crisscross
exposed to dangers but never his loss
dirts not his health’s mugger
but source of his burger
in need of great help, yet still his own boss....

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See the owl in swift silent flight,
Surfing the darkness of the night,
In control of its black domain,
Its prey killed quick, no time for pain.

Don’t be outraged when its victim dies;
The owl’s not a mugger of the skies,
No malice shown when it hunts for meat,
It leaves alone what it cannot eat!...

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I put a bug on you!
it was a lady?
it was a vampire?
it was a boogar?

No, it was a bug!
A mugger?
A burglar?

NO! A BUG!
Why is it .. red?
Is it dead?
It crawled with six legs - -
to my head! ..

right to the crook
of my arm,
Will it cause harm?

Honest!, that bug (CRUNCH!)
that bit you,
My friend!
is a bloodsucker out for lunch
That's it!
That's ALL!...

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She has no idea he is there
until he grabs her by the hair
pulling her down to the ground
putting his hand over her mouth
so she can't make a sound
Taking her dignity away
In her house she will forever stay
for she has lost her self confidence
in his one moment of his self rightneousness
Taking her smiles, her laughter will be no more
In that one fateful night the mugger shut this door...

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Pain distilled in each brittle bar
Past deeds instill a vicarious scar
Sins of the past my corroding soul mar
Time and space bottled in a tiny jar
Flagging spirit falters; tired body must continually spar
Existing in bipolar realm with norms set by the thief, liar, mugger
Puffing away the endless moments, satiated by nicotine and tar 
Availing light fleeting into distant world now so far
Barren heart eclipsed; a fading, falling star...

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This morning I walked in the dark.
Before, I’d not go to the park
When the sky wasn’t light;
It would give me a fright
For the pathways were lonely and stark.

But now, though, my worries do lack
The fear of a mugger attack.
It’s the foe that’s unseen
Causing mass quarantine
That I hope to keep off of my back.

Ere the sunrise, the streets are devoid
Of the crowds making me paranoid.
So I breathe in the air
While remaining aware
Of each early bird I must avoid....

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I'm learning to swear and to curse
And to make my poems sound worse and worse
But when I shouted, oh f**k
It was just my bad luck...
I was standing right next to a hearse.

So then I thought, oh what the hell,
My mind's as unsound as a bell
I cried . what a b*gger
And scared off a mugger.
So here I am with no cr*p in a dell.

Is there a future for the pure on the earth
For those who don't swear and don't curse?
Cor blimey,you're quaint
Is you a saint?
I almost feel a faint tinge of mirth...

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