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Best Poems Written by Mark King

Below are the all-time best Mark King poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mark King Poem

A Collapsing Yippie

It seems like everybody around me has forgotten,
they're stuck on a thought again,
saying alot and whining more.
Preying on their own self-doubts,
they have so much,
yet see so little.
so stubborn.
Can't they see that 64 inch TV,
or feel the beating of the jets in their hot tub ?
They measure their lives too much,
they have fallen into the "Great American Dream Sham"
as my friend "Chad Williams Lowther" would say !
Its a ruse,
an antidote,
so they can make changes in their lives which they normally wouldn't do,
because they lack the strength and insight,
so they get stuck in their minds.
Wheels spin,
tears fall,
marriages crumble
and the damn kids are really suffering,
cause they don't have the latest video gizmo box.
Thoughtless over-reactions of self- abuse,
much like an addict who is never satisfied.
"The Great American Dream Sham" sucked them in,
they forgot,
macroni and cheese,
kool-aid,
saturday morning cartoons and matinees.
All replaced by todays goals and desires,
which are masquerading as tired souls trying to find solice,
stuck in "the Great American Dream Sham"
and now saying all there is to say,
Hail, Hail to me 
and all who are free,
all who go their own way
and all who see though it !

Details | Mark King Poem

Uncle Mack

Old Uncle Mack had a long life,
seen alot,
racism and civil rights,
picked cotton in a hot summer field 
for a man who didn't care for him.
He rode the rails for most of his life,
seeing things and meeting people,
landed a nice retirement check.
Humor and wit seemed to pour out 
of Uncle Mack like the Country Blues
he could play on that old Martin.
I met him late in his life
in the deep old South
of this nation through a friend.
He wasn't really my Uncle,
he became much more than that.
I help him do the things 
he needed to do.
He taught me how to play the Blues
and told me stories of days long gone by.
On a hot July day my friend
called to tell me Uncle Mack
had quietly passed away that night.
At the funeral I was the only 
white person around,
some of the family questioned me.
After the preacher said his say
and the tears were falling,
I began playing my guitar the way
Uncle Mack had taught me
and let my tears fall like rain.
All were silent when I was done,
I threw my guitar pick in the grave
and walked away thanking the Lord
I'd met this man,
my "Uncle Mack".

Details | Mark King Poem

The Strength of the Silver Spoon

All I could do was done,
I gave attention to your ways
and treasured your promises in my heart.
With loud cries and tears,
I battled your Silver Spoon
and recited words of love from my lips,
so I seeked justification from with-in.
I meditated,
while you were with your Sliver Spoon,
with the Silver Spoon in your left hand 
and a lighter in your right hand,.
a bubbling concoction
lays on your Silver Spoon,
it seems to call you
and you can't hear me,
but I can hear myself.
A thought uncloaks before me,
in the warm sunrise,
there is no wisdom,
no insight,
no amount of love
and no plan that can succeed
against the Silver Spoon.

Details | Mark King Poem

A Rhyming Break-Up

I showed her grace,
and got disgrace,
but I'm not the Pope
and I lost all hope.
So I found a way out
with dope, it helps
you cope.

What didn't she steal,
now I can't heal.
She put me in my place,
and took the smile 
from my face.
Love flew,
like a dove.

Was I to blind
to find 
the truth,
after all I'm no sleuth
or was it lost in youth ?


She broke my stride
and my pride,
so I cried,
then I died.
A bona fide ride to hell,
but I didn't sell 
my soul
isn't that swell.

Details | Mark King Poem

Breaking Parole

Once when youth filled
my bones,
that was then.
All the cops and judges
started to look the same.

Back in the day,
pot was cheaper,
beer flowed,
acid was good,
pink tea was better
and cocaine was for rich folks.

A girl stole my heart,
we fell into one another
under a shooting star,
then we said, "we are".
Troubles still came and went.

Breaking parole didn't seem
all that bad !
Sitting in the bar till
close wasn't no big thing.

When I arrived home
the unhero of the day.
The door was chained
and dead bolted,
so in my anger
I kicked it in.

She was tripping
calling me a lair
and use racial slurs,
all high on those pills again.
All my stuff was trashed
and I took her punch,
like a man 
without recourse.

I stole her keys,
like she stole my heart.
Then I showed myself 
to the door smiling all the way.

Her custom Honda,
precious baby,
bright red with bright rims,
crashed and trashed so well.
Daddy's gift ain't shining anymore !

After that I was a sitting,
and a thinking in that bar again.
Hey, bartender bring another,
cause I'm going to get ten years.
Hey, Man take it easy, just go home
and pretend nothing happened.

All right,
I go on home,
its a lonely walk.
I force the door shut,
make my way through the mess,
get in bed with passed out
sleeping beauty.

Later after our daze has wore off,
we awake looking at one another,
she says, 
I got messed up last night
while you were out 
and left my Honda somewhere.
I smile and say,
Its ok we'll find it !

Details | Mark King Poem

Whiskey, Pills, a Woman and Stumbling

What made me stumble,
did I make fools of us ?
Fear was in disguise
and it overwhelmed.
Oh, I remember so little of it,
fragments of memory
and spoken words
whispered in my ear.
The bar with the bodies packed in it,
they seemed to flow as one
to the redneck tune.
I'm quieting the crowd,
the band has stopped
and everyone is all wide eyed.
I'm holding my Colt pistol,
waving it in the air,
like it is a magic wand.
My friend and companion "Bob"
is at my side,
he is watching my back
during my relapse
of Anger and Violence.
Bob is more faithful
than the one I'm after,
he is my German Shepherd.
Fear prevails in the silence,
it is the shock of seeing
someone they know
              SNAP,
over the edge,
I'm stumbling,
about to fall over
insanities edge.
Darker days have returned,
Panama, Columbia
and more sweat soaked places
where blood stained the ground.
Whiskey and Zanax
has led the way.
I shout orders and make demands,
the crowd parts,
like the Red Sea,
I'm Moses headed to my Israel,
love is my God
and I'm faithful to it.
She is at the bar 
with a bearded man
who has ran out of luck,
because I'm out of patience.
My wife's barstool spins around,
we are face to face,
my obective has been reached,
paydirt is here.
I'm in control,
(not really)
she flex's her little finger
making me wince and says,
what the hell you doin ?
I say,
you're comin home !
The bearded man is pleading,
saying,
I ain't done nothin with her !
I point the pistol his way
and tell him,
shut-up you're on hallow ground.
All the while "Bob" is showing his teeth,
looking real mean,
my wife is ranting,
pulling strings,
switching my switches.
Larry comes out of nowhere,
in this place
of drunken Rednecks, Cowboys
and liquor hopes.
He is my old boss and friend,
I worked here for years.
He says,
what you doin son ?
you're gonna end up in Jail !
We talk,
reason unfolds.
The ride to his house
is dark and lonely,
the moon is full
and "Bob" seems to be watching it.
The couch is comfortable,
it sucks me in
as the world weighs down on me.
Bob is laying near,
the whiskey and pills
has made sleep unavoidable
and memories of blood stains 
               fade away.
I awake,
"Bob" is concerned
and stays near me,
he seems to have
saddness in his eyes.
Maybe he knows,
I've been wounded 
by the woman I love
and my stubborn pride.
Refection does not come easy,
but it seems the world is bigger
and It doesn't look the same.

Details | Mark King Poem

Your Cocaine, My Blues

In the meantime
you have your cocaine
I have my blues
a fate awaits
when you need a friend
         I'm there
a love awaits 
like the poems I write
you missed the latest
         poetry slam
it was all for you
so I shuffled back home
         still needing you
listening to the blues
I feel the pain in the music
          like the words I pen
seems maybe I feel yours too
someday you'll be strong
           til then
you have your cocaine 
I have my blues

Details | Mark King Poem

Todays Love, Yesterday's Fate

These pills keep me alive,
these pills take the pain away
like yesterday's lost to fate.
Some greet me with a smile,
some are trapped in dreams.
Let us sieze today,
fall into one anothers arms,
fall into one moment of fate,
remember when and the why.
soon today will be gone,
soon tommorrow will come,
with or without us.
Today take me as I am,
love me for today!

Details | Mark King Poem

One, Two, Three

The storm is clearing and the sun is trying
to show its glory.
Its like love, reaching to touch my being.
Can it touch my heart
through the shell I wear ?
Should I be a crayfish scuttling along
some muddy river,
so it can not touch me ?

Now looking back on true love 
through the stains of time,
faded from the years.
I step out into the rain,
maybe it will wash it away,
all the while I'm remembering my true loves:

One,
stolen by the unsightedness of another driver
in the days of an innocent youth.
Fate did not keep me innocent long.

Two,
romance became misery as she held the bottle,
instead of my hand.
Divorce was mine, as she remarried her bottle
and took it's name.

Three,
We were meant to be together,
a blessed union of our soul's till,
the agonizing wind of addiction
swept her away, faraway.

Divorce and heartache caused sorrow,
sorrow has married self-defense !

They all still talk to me ?
One, from the beyond, like it was yesterday.
Two, in vivid dreams that seem so real.
Three, out of the blue and when she comes down
from the clouds.

Self-defense has become self-reliance,
as I wait for number four to come along.

Details | Mark King Poem

Connie's Poem

Brilliant words made of love, 
decay in a blur of rage 
and in-perfection.

A family is broken 
as the trigger is pulled 
and the unmindful bullets fly.

Compassion and lies have met.
Righteousness and discord have kissed.

As she fades in deaths handcuffs 
love slips away.