Board up all the windows. Lock up all the doors.
Now has come the moment we’ve been preparing for.
We can’t take the time for you to come to grips…
Welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse!
Load up all the shotguns. Sharpen up the knives.
If you have no weapons you’ll be running for your lives.
Keep your sidearm close and make sure you have extra clips.
Welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse!
You can’t keep more stuff than you can carry.
You’re the food source now. You must be wary.
The slightest slip or stumble, you’ll be caught by the undead.
And they long to be fed by the gray stuff in your head…
Hear the sound that freezes the blood within your veins.
The constant, quiet murmer, “Brains……."
It’s just the rugged hero who replies with pithy quips.
Welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse!
The rest will find excuses for some long and lengthy trips…
Welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse!
Categories:
sidearm, halloween, humor,
Form: Rhyme
the field is no longer there where
all of youth and ego collided and
her first glance was seen but shied from
all to be born in a thousand recollections
the field is no longer there where
near dusk I sat alone blurring
through November's naked branches
lamenting another summer passed
the field where I killed an attacking tree
sidearm from thirty yards dead center
no one saw but no one needed to
it happened
the field is no longer filled with fights and
fun and bragging and just hanging out
talkin bout how Joe's brother could press a 100
or how Cyndy's boobs were huge nothing
of importance was left to be conjured
one day I drove away and when I went back
it was gone but like that smile I shied from
never really gone
Categories:
sidearm, memory,
Form: Free verse
bagram airfield july 2010
hushed ether of morning
huddled guardian warriors, arms aligned
early call to prayer sounds the blood to chill
arrives the entry check point white linen under issued desert garb
a steely eyed airman quick witted and quicker with sidearm
all hell breaks loose and all age 30 years in one hot minute
Categories:
sidearm, allah, humanity, memorial day,
Form: Free verse
With a closed mouth (—)
they murmur their cheeky disapproval
Issuing mute complaints
through raised palms,
which are open to () sidearm grievances
Pursed lips (—) tout
their speechless litany of demands
Telling marching tongues
of dissent,
go talk to the hand
The silent majority (—) say,
they don’t wanna hear it
Go talk to the hand!
The silent majority (—)
will tell you non-verbally
to shut it!
Stop the noise,
chanting voices seeking equality
Go talk to the hand,
the speechless many (—) tell the vocal few
Hear what the hand
of the () sidearm have to say:
Bang ... bang, just go away!
Quiet complicity
is so deafening loud
Utter apathy
is a high moral compromise price to pay
Silence is the golden path
that will lead democracy the wrong way
The many closed mouths (—)
never did speak
for the few, open-minded voices
of humanity
I turn my back
to the hand with the trigger finger
pointing at me
Categories:
sidearm, allegory, symbolism, truth, wisdom,
Form: Narrative
the sun threw a sidearm ray
that bounced off the surface many-times~
sank before making the bay
7-9-7 syllable count
Categories:
sidearm, sun,
Form: Haiku
I rode shotgun
with someone
who look just like me
Had the same skin color
as far as I
could steering wheel see
I rode shotgun
with a racist someone,
who hatefully
talked the same way as me
Had the same gnarled speech,
same gnarly hands,
same ugly voice,
same cursive feet
like the carpal in the passenger seat
I rode darkie mind shotgun
with a ghost face someone
who look unholy, just like me
Had the same 20/20 side-by-sidearm vision,
same 20/20 gauge belief
As near as I
could peer passenger see
I once rode shotgun
with a rearview mirror friend,
now a gas pump-action enemy
It’s hard to double barrel conceive,
I went from zero-to-sixty in a heartbeat
Change of attitude direction
came baptismal trigger swiftly
I was passenger told ... and I prayer hope,
distant objects are closer
than they appear to be
Categories:
sidearm, anger, hate, truth, wisdom,
Form: Bio
Throw it, roll it,
Bounce it, pass it
Dribble it, bobble it
Kick it, toss it, miss it
Pitch it, hurl it
Heave it, sling it
Fastball, slider
Sinker, knuckler, curve
Underhand, sidearm
Overhand, 3/4 arm
Whiffle ball, tennis ball
Forehand, backhand, serve
Baseball, basketball
Football, volleyball
Golf ball, tennis ball
Hardball, softball, swerve
Matters not what sport you do
Or what result's deserved
Just go out and do your best
And play the game with verve
Categories:
sidearm, baseball, basketball, football, fun,
Form: Light Verse
Round up the posse,
get ‘em vetted Oval Office ganksterized
Appoint the piggy snouts,
then send ‘em out
with metal sidearm power
Ancient oppression done got modernized,
old Egypt Memphis is new Phoenix on the rise
OK the corruption,
legalize the blind Corral mice
Roving Jezebel eyes
got sticky trigger fingers unsanitized
Presidential grifter seal approved,
publican tin badges
skimming off the top of the public trough
Bonnies & Clydes wearing white hats,
got the saddlebags holding the stolen dough
And it looks
like they done Bernie Madoff with some mo’
Treating citizens mob gankster rude;
those tax cowpokes
are waving their little flag pistols,
talking like tough leather throat fools
Every national treasure asset
is being pirate privatized
Every sniveling weasel with a lizard tongue
is getting Benedict deputized
And truth is being sold in the stables,
non-disclosure is the filly train to ride
Marshaling a high plains moral drifter
to come bail rescue innocent pleb gunslinger you
Remember, Roman toga outlaws
were duly elected judge, jury and executioner too
Categories:
sidearm, allusion, corruption, political, truth,
Form: Rhyme
Ballot dolts
who got a gun love for the vote,
lift the sidearm
and affirm
their right to fire a bullet nope
Pulling the trigger lever
with lightning speed,
they choose to cast
bolts of volt impurity
Spirit children of Frankenstein orthodoxy,
whose parents gave democratic birth
to a Hitler monstrosity
by voting mad scientist crazy
Feel the midnight storm clouds
gather in the Alabama sky ...
see the lightning bolts raining down
Voting Moore abomination on a stainless steel slab
Roy ain’t Rogers
is rising up once again, ready to senate killer ride
Vigilante haters of diversity
are forming their ballot dolt posse
Riding high on their metal winged horsey,
firing Pegasus jolts of volt impurity
And the tweet thunderbolts are
telling the citizens to once again vote crazy
When the smoke clears, what will we see —
Another evil revival of
the worst part of America’s proud history?
If so,
this vomit voter sickening
means the nation’s white lightning future
will be further blackening
Categories:
sidearm, america, history, political, truth,
Form: Dramatic Verse
They marched me out
Before dawns first light
The moon casting weak shadows,
The stars in full flight
Across snow laid fresh
Into field of gray
Not a word was spoken
On that fateful day
Stood me against post
Bound me tight
Put hood on my head,
So that I might
Not even glimpse
The day’s first light
Heard crisp orders barked
Then clatter of wood and steel
But not the volley of riffles
That dealt the pain
Then up he marched
Sidearm in hand
To deliver a lesson
All would understand
Don’t retreat under fire
Don’t refuse to fight
Or shake so much
It gives others fright
Don’t lay in the trench
With hand over your ears
Not even trying
To hid your tears
And then it was all over
And my body cut free
Another lesson taught
Well at least to me
Categories:
sidearm, war, me, me,
Form: Verse
“love and darkness and my sidearm”
This line reminds me of youthful rebelliousness
Of summer nights, out with good friends
Driving along, in a car together
Feeling as if we could live forever
No cares, no laws, no responsibilities
Just a love of life and debauchery
When I sing it, I’m there with them
This is my life, and these are my friends
It’s the wonderful past that I never had
That I can live for a minute, both good and yet bad
I’m laughing, loving, wild, and free
Until the song ends, and with it, the fantasy
Song: The South Side by Moby
7/17/11
Categories:
sidearm, adventure, fantasy, friendship, happiness
Form: Rhyme
Looking for the perfect one, along the lake-front shore;
Mine resulted in ten quick skips, he wants his to skip one more.
I watched the mirror of myself, thirty years removed;
Trying to outdo his Dad as if something that would prove.
He squats and examines each stone he finds looking for one smooth and flat;
My boy is growing into a young man – into a fine one as a matter of fact.
He picks his stone and sidearm throws it against the water’s surface top;
I counted eight but yelled, “Thirteen!” when that stone came to a stop.
Categories:
sidearm, father, son
Form: Rhyme