For more than forty years my pistol
And - trust - me - in the dark like a pistol,
Sadly competing with my loved Christ,
Mostly after quaffed Stout cruelly iced!
Years back wore the look of Machine gun,
When it stopped ripe deaths from crazy fun:
The times I’d dared wrestle with Rothmans
Also with Menthols raunchy romance;
Once in my bag wouldn’t feel luckless
As it kept licensing The Reckless
The Asthmatic: An Idol Worshipper
My Dream Business: Inhaler’s Shipper.
Till date smuggles it into a church
Christ’s priests won’t see it, unless they search.
If my mum were alive, she’d slap me;
Would it – I know - reserve like Hot Tea
Categories:
smuggles, christian, cry, death, health,
Form: Rhyme
Jobless Jack, a real jerk, dances a jig,
He juggles, smuggles jewels in backpacks,
jawbreakers, jump ropes, jelly rolls and crack.
~~Jig be up, Jack'll jiggle in the brig.~~
Junk jingles and jangles, squeals like a pig
jerked and jacked from joints on his pickup routes.
Amid crates of jackets, jeans, and jump suits,
Jobless Jack, a real jerk, dances a jig,
Jack jimmied the Jaguar trunk of some prig;
now Judge Judy’s searching Jack's jalopy.
“Jumping Jehoshaphat, what’s this jersey?"
~~Jig be up, Jack'll jiggle in the brig.~~
Jobless Jack, a real jerk, dances a jig,
her missing jersey was what the judge found.
~~Jig be up, Jack'll jiggle in the brig.~
written 1/31/2018
a villonet
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name ''J'' Contest, New or Old
Categories:
smuggles, 11th grade, drug, jobs,
Form: Alliteration
Your consciousness, sir!
When exhaustion takes you by the collar
Like a kitten
And gently snuggles you down
As it smooths your frown
From your melting face
And then it smuggles your consciousness
Through dark alleys and memories
Out to the safety of a green landscape
Where eternal sun is shining
And strange is the norm
And no-one seems upset
When people suddenly take flight
Or a moose
Or baboon
Attempts to steal the moon
Or a horse runs a course
On philosophy
And as you slowly dissolve into the pillows
And sorrow and worries are taken from you
Like a coat left at the coat-check
To be returned to you tomorrow
Sadly, if you choose
Bot better to lose
Them or forget them
In a fresh new morning
Of a fresh new day
Categories:
smuggles, dream, freedom, sleep,
Form: Free verse
Night blankets all with darkness deep;
Light struggles here to free bold sight;
Night brings sure gall in troubled sleep;
Light smuggles cheer in moody plight.
Night is the time when darkness stalks;
Nocturnal things bring fearful quest;
Night spins grim rhymes as echoes walk;
Nightmares now bring sinister fest.
Night wears a face that feels so black;
Notions of cold converge at dusk;
Night floods a trace of empty slack;
Note what unfolds in sullen gust.
Leon Enriquez
03 June 2014
Singapore
Categories:
smuggles, confusion,
Form: Quatrain