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Steven Mitchell Poem
2 hours of broken sleep
sweat tears and spine chills creep
living in a horror scene
barely notice its now routine
should of kept some from last night
look in mirror what a sight
ghostly image seldom gets a second glance
the devil smiles today we dance
long walk short wait
one out of two aint bad it aint
settle in to kill the beast
patience patience wait aah release
knocking knocking on the door
the beast lived! hungry, always wanting more
someones mother someones son
door breaks in floods the sun
mother weeps at awful sight
son and the devil depart the light
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Mitchell Poem
i used to love her once
hooked besotted for months
i gave her my all
despite her being 6foot tall
my head only up to her bumps
wed go to bed early
at the peak of our love
but some times this led to some trouble
for when id assume the position
for her aquisition
id ticlke her chest with my stubble
i used to love her once
i gave her my all
despite her being 6 foot tall
my head only up to her bumps
she got pretty aggrieved with the love she recieved
and finally filed for divorce
she had just the one reason
to justify her love treason
size it does matter of course
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Mitchell Poem
i dreamt a dream the other night
where up was down and left was right
fox news was gone all anti Bush
Obama now there latest crush
Bill O Reilly was campaigning
to free Bradley Manning
Shepard Smith announced
he was no longer fake tanning
reports were coming thick and fast
revelations revealing Grechens exotic past
the truth exposed re. Bret Baier
totally bald thats spray on hair
unfair and unbalanced was now the logo
Megan Kelly quit and now dancing gogo
Murdoch declared he was terminly ill
Bill Hemmer broke the story of the old mans will
every cent to charity
that im afraid was too much for me
i awoke confused and in a sweat
in a panic turned on my tv set
oh thank God sanity restored
O Reilly was on declaring Manning a coward
turns out Grechens past was squeaky clean
Obamas policys are all obscene
love in with George W scheduled for 8 o clock
but poor Megans still dancing around the clock.
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Mitchell Poem
of all the people whose paths crossed mine
theres one ill not forget
he always swore hed forever be single
until the day his true love he met
the change it was dramatic
no longer parties and late nights
he gave up most of his close friends
to his true loves great delight
he no longer thought for himself
he was blinded by loves snare
dark was what was developing
black was the color of her hair
some tried to advise him
that all may not be what it seems
but he dismissed them all with malice
who dare besmirch this girl of his dreams
i heard it on the grapevine
where all bad news gets broadcast
he came home from work one day early
what he seen hit him like a shotgun blast
his true love was wrapped in another
in his bed in his place
what really broke this man apart
was the smile she wore on her face
the rest was like a trainwreck
he deterioated so fast
he never washed he barely spoke
his true love now a painful past
his face was now barely disguising
the hurt and anguish he carried inside
newspapers called it an accident
but we all knew it was suicide
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Mitchell Poem
be a star an actor or singer
rise above the flotsam
do not linger
once your up above the rest
your *****dont stink
cause your the best
develop a drug problem
get drunk and high
wel all still adore you
till the day you die
unfortunatley for the rest of us
addiction to drugs
leads us to bust
people look and shake there head
that guys an addict
probably rob you in bed
steal that chain from round your grannys neck
eat your baby bounce a cheque
definitly way past all redemption
unless he becomes famous then hel have our attention
now hes a genius just slightly flawed
each failed sober attempt wel now applaud
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Mitchell Poem
This is Ireland
Patchwork of green and brown
Leprechauns dance
When darkness comes down
Thatched rooves
Woolen jumpers and drink
What a place to just sit back and think
It's past is chequred
With tales of brutal domination
Olde England's charm
Withered the entire population
But Ireland prevailed
And created the free state
A victory of sorts
As many still hate
We had our boom
Our sustained economic growth
The building trade mainly
Kept ship Ireland afloat
Our bubble did burst
As many foretold
But noone paid heed
All blinded by gold
We're struggling again
Just to make ends meet
Family after family
Turned out on the street
The governmental excuses
Are all worn thin
Old Ireland is hit
And she's slowly sinking
But what of all who done us all wrong
Justice is around the corner
Yea but the road will be long
The status quo is still intact
Drown the Celtic Tiger
To save the fat cat
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Mitchell Poem
i awoken from a nightmare just as it was gettin outta hand
the pope was in the kitchen and he was settin up a band
nuns on lead vocals a bishop on the bass, just as soon as they started
they all ascended up into space
now i knew im in trouble the DTs are settin in
why didnt i stay with the guinness and leave that bottle of gin
i made it too the bathroom, quite a feat if may say so
but liquidating assests like this in the mornin isnt the way to go
now im seen bill clinton and my wife run out the back
never again will you ever get me on that crack
poor old head is been jackhammered by a dozen little smurfs
but theres roaches in sunglasses and leather jackets gettin ready for a surf
my stomach is makin noises like a rusty creaky ship
feels like the bottom could go again and drown the poor smurfs in s~@t
now the joke is over im goin back to bed one more night like last nite
and ill surely wake up dead
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Mitchell Poem
in stranger shoes I amble forth
each print of sole measured by size of fit
heaven forbid i might one day break step
place foot in virgin earth
to wear ones own path
on earth and sole
unfettered by bonds of accepted gaits
but I must
I must rattle my cage
loosen the ties
kick off my cumbersome designer jackboots
and sally forth barefoot...
If even just once in a while
even momentarily
even just imagine so
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2014
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Steven Mitchell Poem
ill give you knowledge
sit up now and listen
here we go release of mission
existing poems are all we got
theres no prescription there are lot
be a critc read and write
dont be afraid to call halt to butchers plight
rhym it well avoid obvious conclusions
or suffer readers mental contusions
be unique make words your own
but give em life, heart and soul
use words to paint inside your head
then sneeze out the picture you have read
do not write vulgar in red or bold
let it walk its own test road
add not unnecesary stops and quotations
dont butcher classic with fraudulent mutations
how does it read does it vibe and flow
if it ties the tounge the heart wont go
enhance your speak and be well read
what else to do in marital bed?
write strait from you but dont write strait
use words as clues to there real fate
make us hurt and make us cry
leave only hard cases dry of eye
but life cant all be doom and gloom
be creative let thoughts bloom
make us laugh till flatuation
and youl forever have our adulation
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Mitchell Poem
I know two sisters, know em fairly well
The younger ones from heaven
But the older ones from hell
There's no fear of mistaking them
As they look worlds apart
Younger ones a ferrari
Older ones a horse an cart
I've never had the pleasure
Of takin big sis out
That's not to say I'd like to
As she has a real big mouth
She has a chip on her shoulder
And an inferiority complex
Rumour has it she eats her partners
After using them for sex
Little sis is different
I've had her between the sheets
She goes like a race horse
Her needs are hard to meet
She is really an angel
Once you get her out of bed
She's thoughtful caring beautiful
But its a mystery inside her head
Sometimes though she goes sycho
Always tryin to pick a fight
Then returns to being a princess
Always in bed before midnight
Copyright © Steven Mitchell | Year Posted 2013
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