Snot nosed, barefoot
Chanting, walk the streets
Spit flies from mouth, food on cheek
Green, ripe, and free
Dirty and unkempt
Unbridled and unmanageable
Wild child
Dolls and toy trucks
Mudpies and hopscotch
Bugs and jump rope
Torn clothes, holes in socks
Scraped knees and mud on shoes
Marching on, they're marching on
They're marching on
Drums rattle, off beat
Out of tune flutes, cowbells and slide whistles
Ringing bent triangles while singing loudly
Songs without chords
Melodies without rhythm
Games without rules
Things without reasons
Love without need
Enjoyment without thought
For the sake of it all, I guess
Enigmatic thinkers, unfamiliar and strange
They're marching on, they're marching on
They're coming here and soon
They've got a lot to say
They're coming out to play
Their voices cannot be drowned out
For nothing else is louder
Categories:
snot nosed, beauty, children, imagination, innocence,
Form: Free verse
Twilight has set me free
To this feeling I must cling
Then from the heavens descended
A window on a string...
My view now slightly obstructed
By soul sucking muntins.
Perhaps it is a prank done by
Some snot nosed heavenly munchkins
A vision once so sublime,
Is now sullied by the glare
That mocks me wholeheartedly, my reflection
Was donned with the blankest of stares.
I walked through the field to
Make my way back home
It would stay in front of me,
No matter which direction I would go.
I got my baseball bat, gripped it tight
Got to make sure I hit it just right.
A tidal wave of a swing was greeted bluntly
With a sad song, the faintest of dings
How will I ever rid myself of it?
I am still stuck with this cursed thing!
Perhaps I am just cursed forever
With this window on a string.
Categories:
snot nosed, depression, perspective, senses, sky,
Form: Rhyme
Manchester, born and bred, within a stone throw from the city centre
One of a family of nine kids and our mother as our mentor
In a place called Hulme, full of vagabonds and snot nosed scruff bags
Rope for belts, football boots with studs cut of as shoes and clothes of rags
Hulme was a hard place to grow, terraced housing, paved back yards and broken glass
The sound of gospel hung in the air as the black community attended daily mass
Sugar butties, porridge was the food we ate
No fatty Big Mac’s with salad-less salad on a false plastic plate
Trying to smash bottles that were laid out on top of a wall
From twenty or thirty yards with a cricket ball
Hopscotch, hula hoop, hide and seek were the games we knew
No X-box or computer games on the streets that we grew
There was social intercourse, chatter, friendship, warmth and love
Non of the Facebook, twitter, linked in and all that false stuff
Now the kids live in a pit of sole and isolation
As they tweet and twitter their nonsense across the nation
50, 000 face book friends they have never met, seen or knew
I wouldn’t swap what I had as a child
Would you?
Categories:
snot nosed, life,
Form: Rhyme
A knotted Tarzan rope dangles
From the same sycamore tree limb
When I was a young, snot-nosed,
devil-may-care adolescent.
Nothing has really changed that much
Since my time: the same swimming hole,
Probably the same railroad spikes
That I hammered into the trunk
That we used as rungs to scale it.
But it’s a very lonely place
today. All my childhood buddies
Are either dead or too infirmed
To care; so here I stand alone
Willing, but no one to play with.
Categories:
snot nosed, childhood,
Form: Verse
Ever question why certin people ever win?
Sit atop that featured list.
Cause like roulette wheel the game is fixed
in case you havent guessed.
Its easy to rise to the top when own the site.
Raul, John, Micheal, it's the only way people
would praise anything you write.
Why slip in at night when ya take it out the
front door.
Makes question on on the soup who's
minding the store.
I comment on seventy poems a day.
I loved this write now what the hell did
I just say?
Your best friend wins every contest you host.
Must be nice holding that silver spoon.
Ya killed the voice but left his ghost.
Lets be nice and play fair.
Two faced jokes.
Snot nosed social club like anyone does care.
It's hard to play when ya dont even have a chance.
My words cut to the truth wanna test me.
Well fakes and fools lets dance.
You speak about depth but your fake smiles
show you hollow to the core.
Makes ya question in this game who's minding the store.
Categories:
snot nosed, dedication, introspection, life, parody,
Form: Dramatic Verse
Reflection's Of My Yesterdays
Pop's Has a lot to say about hot shots of today, To the snot nosed teens,
Blamed on parents of today
Time to hang your badge full of pride to the tune of a new tide, Time to
salute your fellow cops Good-Bye!
As you no longer carry a snub nosed thirty eight by your side, As
your days on the beat are thru,
In my dreams I can still see that little boy
crying out to the "Lord for you, Still to this day he cry’s for affection as
your the reflection, He always seen in between the glass
as you waved Good-Bye!
Dad Guess I just admired you for so very long, As my heart still hides
from Love ,Must be true only the tough will survive.
Only this time my wife is along for the ride, And I see sadness In her eyes,
I must make this love survive, Or happy Trails are
waving Good-Bye like the reflection of my yesterdays!
Categories:
snot nosed, family, fatherlove, time,
Form: I do not know?