She is equipped with sensitive *******
and those other secret places
that ladies give out as prizes
to deserving guys as long as
they adopt the right disguises
of gods, gurus, intellectual giants,
goats, children, father figures, macho brutes,
sugar-daddies, supermen, seminal vessels,
house-repairers, jar openers, jocks, hate objects,
handy shoulders to cry on, emotional support systems,
sensitive, intuitive, yet strong silent types
who can also pay the bills,
tall dark and handsome total strangers,
toy boys, clowns, jugglers, jokers, millionaires,
wood choppers, ******* removers,
bottomless reservoirs of reassurance
or just plain spunky studs when the moon is right.
In fact, anything but woffly wimps.
Oh God, no.  Anything but woffly wimps.
Yes, but what about stoic, steadfast SNAGS,
you know, the Sensitive New Age Guys
who won’t face-shift for a ****?
Yes, well, let's try to sum all this up here right now.
I think that the woman is dripping
with a brimming reservoir
of luscious and sensitive resources on tap for  
the man who can figure out her cosmic kaleidoscope  
of swirling dreams and desires,
which is definitely not to say she can’t be totally independent.
Although please don't be confused.
Friendly boy-next-door types who are handsome,
aren't too hairy, who like to laugh, who have a boyish braggadocio,
who are students, who appear to be intellectuals,
who are not nerds,
and who can **** it in the kitchen, who  can be oh, so cool,
who can convince a maiden that she is in distress,
and is in need of rescuing, while he has
a swaggering hard-on will do, too.
Oooh. You devil.
And if you think this poem is misogynist, misanthropic or myopic,
well, I’ve been around and by now, well,
I really should be panoptic
because I’ve seen all the fads,
and really, it’s sadly too bad
about those poor old
earnest SNAGS.
But you know what?
I don't think I understand anything, because
I'm really a victim of worshiping women.
I'm bedazzled and as blind as the next man, and
yes,
I'm just happy whenever I'm with them.

I make a lot of enemies without intending,
They outnumber me greatly with their size
but they cannot withstand the wrath of fury;
I come ****** but unbowed to these wimps

Hence, they unleash a band of Anthropophagus
Well, I have the ***** to slain these monsters
The sight of them is infuriating, less frightening
I gave them something to mourn - I have to

Again, I walked away from the battle unbowed
Because I have what it takes to **** a mockingbird
But, it didn't make me feel better or worse
I have to put up with them and their excesses

Now, you will understand why I never turn to see
who stab me in the back - it's not worth turning

[Verse 1]
I wanna be free, I wanna just live
Inside my Cadillac, that is my ****
And I throw it up (I throw that up)
That's what it is (that's what it is)
In my C A D I L L A C ***** (******)
Can't see me through my tint (nah ah)
I'm riding real slow (slow motion)
In my paint wet drippin' shining like my 24's (umbrella)
I ain't got 24's (no oh)
But I'm on those Vogues
That's those big white walls, round them hundred spokes
Old school like old English in that brown paper bag
I'm rolling in that same whip that my granddad had
Hello haters, **** y'all mad
30k on the Caddy, now how backpack rap is that?

[Hook: Hollis]
I Got that off-black Cadillac, midnight drive
Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time
I'm blowin' that roof off, letting in sky
I shine, the city never looked so bright

[Verse 2]
Man I'm lounging in some **** Bernie Mac would've been proud of
Looking down from heaven like **** that's stylish
Smilin', don't pay attention to the mileage
Can I hit the freeway? I'm legally going 120
Easy weaving in and out of the traffic
They can't catch me, I'm smashing
I'm ducking bucking them out here
I'm lookin' ******' fantastic, I am up in a classic
Now I know what it's like under the city lights
Riding into the night, driving over the bridge
The same one we walked across as kids
Knew I'd have a whip but never one like this
Old school, old school, candy paint, two seater
Yea, I'm from Seattle, there's hella Honda Civics
I couldn't tell you about paint either
But I really wanted a Caddy so I put in the hours
And roll on over to the dealer
And I found the car, junior, problem with this geezer
Got the keys in and as I was leaving I started screaming

[Hook: Hollis]
I Got that off-black Cadillac, midnight drive
Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time
I'm blowin' that roof off, letting in sky
I shine, the city never looked so bright

[Verse 3: Schoolboy Q]
Backwoods and dope
White hoes in the backseat snorting coke
She doing line after line like she's writing rhymes
I had it hella my love, tryna blow my mind
Cadillac pimpin', my uncle was on
14, I stole his keys, me and my ****** was gone
Stealin' portions of his liquor, water in the Patron
Rather smiling like I won the ******* lottery homes
(******' lottery homes)
Tires with the spokes on it in the 4-2
Mustard and mayonnaise, keeping the buns on 'em
My dogs hanging out the window
Young as whoosh, ******' like we ball
Tryna **** em all, **** the ******' wimps
See what's poppin' at the mall, meet a bad *****
Slap her ***** with my palms
You can smoke the *****, I was tearing down the walls
I'm *******' awe,some
Swear these eyes tryna hypnotize
Grip the leather steering wheel while I grip the thighs
See the lust stuck up in her eyes
Maybe she like the ride or did she like the smoke?
Girl does she want it low?
This **** a Coupe de Ville so you'll never know
So we cool with ******, my ***** **** the limit
Got a window tinted for showing gangstas in it
Slice off when the gas is finished, Q

[Hook: Hollis]
Off-black Cadillac, midnight drive
Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time
I'm blowin' that roof off, letting in sky
I shine, the city never looked so bright

I Got that off-black Cadillac, midnight drive
Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time
I'm blowin' that roof off, letting in sky
I shine, the city never looked so bright

It was supposed to be
The dawn of a new age;
A new set of dialogue
On a more balanced stage
With better lines for
The actors to deliver.
It was supposed to start in
The sixties and last forever.

We didn’t really know for sure
What this Aquarius stuff was
But it seemed to us to be
A metaphysical enough cause,
To change the way we acted
And to shout down the rest;
To face the demagogues
Then put them to the test.

We stopped wearing uniforms
That said we went along
With the hard-assed leaders.
We put a lot of it in our songs.
We called them what they were
Greedy warmongering ******.
We protested and picketed
And promised so much more.

We spoke out loudly on TV
And in crowds in the streets
That we were through will genocide
And would not accept defeat.
We cried out that our government
Had assumed the role of villain
And was murdering for no reason
Not just men, but even children.

But, we let it all die down;
We let the government slide
On investigating the truth
And keeping the truth inside
A carefully chosen batch of
Criminals in public office.
We let them go on making war
And making money off us.

We let them cheat and lie
And re-write acceptable laws
To support their bloodthirstiness
And we gave up on our cause.
Maybe all that protesting gave
All our marching feet limps.
Or maybe it’s because all along
We were just a bunch of wimps.

Excessive threats lead to fear of death
i know your scared but what do you want me to do
their bigger than you
and you can put me out with swing and shout

call the cops i know their ready for this
why would they care unless they can get a kiss from a harem
who is attractive enough
to save you from the big tough.

This is going to be painful for me. These folks think they're so heavy, evil, dark, and mysterious. (Ahem) Next to the crab, you are one of the biggest wimps the Universe ever farted out. Don't even ask for backup in a fight with these people, their excuse is, "I wasn't really sure what was going on!" With your low energy, you can barely fly unless you have been a constant train wreck, I may throw you scrap of respect. You just barely have the *** department down and I have kicked many a stinger out of bed. Emotional inside like a bag of **** lit on fire! You can't escape from the bag of your own **** show. No wonder you're so angry, all you do is repeatedly sting yourself to death. What a stupid species you are, indeed!

Advice: Stop with the whole tough guy/girl front. Everyone knows that when someone throws their hands back at you, you run away and cry in the corner like the little **** you are. So quit with the heavy and join Cancer.

If not to tempt the temperaments of lesser men, I shall bludgeon the object of our obsessions again, just to watch the reddened britches go un-itched, as my grinning is met with dissatisfaction, impacting the over expressed whining of gentle wimps, flailing, and stomping as disgruntled chimps, flinging feces from the cages again.

No you are still a young dude, even though


My stupid old mate from school, always treats me like a young dude
Even if he knows I will prefer to be a cool kid to the adults
And I mean the mature adults, because the young dudes he means
Are too immature for me, I know I am a man, and I ain!t too shy to be a man
And my friend needs to fucken get a life
Because screams out of his house saying, no your still a little young dude, man
Your not a cool kid anymore, man, blah blah blah blah
This drives me c r a z y, because I am in my 40s I am not young
I am a middle-ager who loves life, and I mean real life
Not this crazy life you see at the local malls
My friend from school is sitting there saying over and over again
Your still a young dude, mate, and he says that 100 times
Your still a young dude, your still a young dude, your still a young dude
FUCKEN SHUT UP, I want to be together, and not sit at the mall
Seeing this spontaneous atmosphere, structure works better
If you are structured, your mind is better, and my old school friend says
Be a little young dude, be a little young Dude, be a little young dude
I am a man, and I want people to be normal, not fake normal
Treating me like a shy person coming through
Cause I ain't a shy person, so mate, while your sitting there saying
I am still a little young dude, think about me, I am a real man
A creative man,  don't drink, I don't smoke, and I don't do spur of the moment ****
So stop saying your still a little young dude, aren't young, I am a man
******* and leave me the **** alone, I ain't young anymore
You are driving me crazy trying to keep saying i am a little young dude
And when I go out and be a cool kid, he will say, 'laughing'
Yeah come on and try and be a cool kid to the families, come on
You see mate, you are shy, and the only way you are like us
Is if you watch me, and that is the only way, you aren't a normal man
So now mate, you are a little young dude, and then my school friend
Says to the townsfolk, don't be his kind of cool, cause he is still a young dude
And he will say after that, hang on and them say after I don't respond
No your a little young dude, and when my father yells our get ****** mate
And then he pushes his mouth side to side, thinking oh a little kid, he is
And then this friend says get ****** me, moving his mouth side to side saying the same
Then when i go out, he will say, no, your not like us, buddy, no your not like us anymore buddy, you are still a little young dude, oh baby, yes, you are still a little young dude, who
Really hasn't a pressure in the world, then I get up and work in the house
Or I will go and do something that is part of life, he will say no, don't muck with him
Anymore townsfolk, cause he is still a little young dude, yeah still a little young dude
And when I look at him, he will look at me and smile, to me I saw the little shy boy thing
As he is treating me like a cool person, cause I don't know what cool is
But really he is trying to stop me from being a creative person, and them I look
Around, he says, no, buddy, your still a little young dude, b. u. d.  d.   y
Your too shy to be like us, buddy, and I said, I am a man, because
He is the one who is too shy, cause he has no fucken class, dudes
You see if ignore him, my mind is full of the old men trying to call me a coward
And when they can't get it through to me, the young men will call me a ****
And I went around saying, I am not a little baby shy boy, you guys aren't like us, man
Then my friend says, no, your still a little young dude, man
You are too shy to be like us, buddy, your still a little young dude,,buddy
It's enough to drive you to drink and I did, at that moment I was so *******
At him saying to me, your still a little young dude buddy, I drank myself stupid
And it didn't fucken stop, my school friend sat there in his house
On the other side of the town, sat there smiling, saying, your a little young dude buddy
And then let out a very big smile, and your still a little young dude, your
In an imaginery little world, too afraid of the real world
I sit and think about it, what is the real world anyway, there is no real world
It's a world which is part imaginery and part real
And as long as you balance it well, you'll be so cool
But, at this moment in time, I ain't a young dude, I am a middle aged man with
A heart of gold, and when I go out, I see two kids playing at the shops
And then they leave, and they both say, your still a little young dude
And I say, no, dudes, I am a real real man, with a heart of steel
I don't get a license, cause for me, it's so unreal
The force is trying to give me cancer, but,no kind sir
I am too smart for that, uh
Then my friend came up to me and said, you are still a little young dude with no friends
Whose a little young dude with no friends, your a little young dude with no friends
Then you go to the local shops and you see kids hassling his their dad
For money to buy sweets, the father doesn't want to, he wants to be together
Cause that way, he will wonder whether, he wants to stay with his kids
Or does his kids act like little wimps,
And in the background, his friend says this, listen everyone as a young dude will say
Everyone he is a little young dude guys sure mate
And then he lifts up his leg and shows them off to his friend
And then says your still a little young dude, don't try and be like us
You see dude, the real world is so tough, so stay inside being a little young dude, ******
After about 5 minutes of trying to push everyone together
He will put his foot down on the floor, your still a young dude, don't try and be like us
Your not a cool kid, or a cool man, and I said no, *******, I am a man
Your are just mucking with the men, ya stupid ****
Then he will put his foot on the floor and say again, your still a little young dude
You are too shy to be like us, buddy boy
I told him I am a man, I go on holidays and I work and I try to find something around town
Cool to hang around and be civilized, but I aren't a little young dude, mate, I am a big man
Then my friend said, no you are a little young dude, buddy
And before I say I am a man, another person says that there a man
And then says, no your a little young dude buddy, what's your fucken problem
You stupid little ******* monkey, you and your friend ain't like us
Let's muck with these two losers and treat them both like people we want to muck with
And my friend got really hyped up over it, and said, that I am a little young dude
And then I told him that I ain't a young dude anymore, but he said, yes you are
You are a young dude, and I told my friend to leave me the **** alone
I don't want to be a young dude, I want to be a man, who wants to be together
You are keeping me with you, no I don't want to be a little young dude
I am not shy, I know the shopping centres have heaps of hustle and bustle
And I know that everyone will move down the coast if it was cheap
And I also know that it has to be expensive because it's the only way they will make money
I know that the labor party helps the poor while liberals help their poor wallets
I don't want to stay down with this crazy friend who keeps stomping his foot down on
The floor and says your still a young dude, your not like us, he says with a really wingey voice, and he does that for about 15 minutes and the men say, leave him alone mate, he is not a man, he is still a little young dude, buddy boy, he will never be a young dude again
While you are thinking that, he sits in his house saying good mate, be a young dude
But then he will stomp his foot right on the ground, and say, your still a young dude
You see, I don't want him to treat me like a brother, cause I don't **** people off
I don't need people to treat me like a shy boy who knows nothing
And then he says to me, no your still a little young dude, mate
And I go f......u......c.........k, leave me alone mate, I am not young anymore,  nobody his ******* with me, so shut it

This for the little brothers
And the widowed mothers
To the Sunday morning snoozers
And the gamenight losers
To the wimps in the schoolyard
And even the bullies just down the boulevard
Shake the dust.

This is for the shopfront greeters,
The youth group worship leaders,
For the early morning joggers and the late night bike riders,
And for the boy who's crush loves someone else
For milk crate ball players,
And for the wallflower haters
Plant the forests.

To the sleepers and the dreamers,
And to the bed-wetters,
As well as the lonely love letters
To the broken hearts who write poems
And the broken souls that stole them
To men who work for a family they never see
And girls who want a lover but they'll never be
Split the seas.

For the heavens you have lived and the hells you felt you have gone through,
For the demons who have overcame and the ones yet to be overcome
For the ones who have stuck with the Lord all the same
And the ones who don't yet know His name
For the fair-weather friends the friends 'til the end
The overnighters and the stories told at campfires
Move the mountains.

This is to the poet, and lovers who don't yet know it
To the writers but it's just a hobby,
The Debbie Downers who can't stop me
This is for the authors whose books is left unread on dusty shelves
And the girls who hate the look of themselves
To the ones, that when it rains, they choose to sing
And the winter you must endure to reach the spring
Shake the dust.

This is to all of you,
and I will say it again: shake the dust.
Because from the dust you were made,
and to the dust you will return.
So let this poem not be mere words that barely flow,
may this poet not just be another kid,
too quixotic to change the world.
But might my poetry be the notes
which your words are carried by.
Let them swing and sway,
a piece to our battlecry,
some sylable in your life story.
Because from the dust you will rise,
so carry the dirt with you
and take the world by storm,
for the ground you scrape from your palms
is the story you form.

looking  the speed
searching the inner peace
like flying on a bike, or
getting a *******, by it.

running on the night,
120 to feel alive, my life,
in a way , becomes, the
eternal night ride,

thanks god
for the freeway, and
the eternal look for inner peace,
the zen state,  i'm getting
trow speed

like flying, or surfing
on  the street, every thing
is clear at 120k, like tantric ***,
or those eyes of the past,

  one of two, cool memories
in a past full of pain.

after all the pain,
becomes the good memoir,
in a night of speed, appears,
those strawberry memoirs

in the night ride appears,
sudden and clear,
the state of speed,
looking for the inner peace,
or the state of zen release,

looking,
the one good memoir,
and flying on my bike.
surfing the asphalt,
wishing she could go faster

wishing for the peace,
and wanting the creep to dissapears,
looking for the peace , and hear him
inside of me, a creepy voice,

trying to justify his lies,
asking me to be, after all the harm,
still ask for a hand out,

after all the damage,
dares to ask for something.
during the night, y forget the betrayal,
and become a free man,  and the
burning area feels the wind

looking in the night,
the eyes of the past, or the kimera
that will never appears,
even the one that loves me,
back stab me, love hurts right.

looking the peace, or getting
a kick, on the speed,
looking the  zen state,

getting a *******,with speed.
hearing the claims of me heart to be free,
and getting a *******, in the
process,


all is clear, at full speed.
tight, and clean, no creeps,
just the kick, i'm getting
trow that lovely speed,
like flying on a machine.

looking and wanting
waiting on the coward chick,
that loves and hurts me,
like a kid, on first grade,
hurting what she ******* loves

like a coward, or a slave,
on this creeps trade.
slaves are not ****, or cool,
even with a lion on her back,
afraid, of the hyenas, or this creep

**** and lovely coward,
let go, or say it to my face
time's running out, and i'm
not waiting anymore,

life's
like the night ride,
and i'm going at full speed,
always on the fone, green dress
and **** skin , your heart
belongs to the lion , hows going to eat it,

and grabbing your hair,
screaming my name,
as you take me in,
like in the freeway,
**** and lovely coward
if you love me, set me free,

**** gambas, set me free
i'm on the freeway, need
to touch somebody, and you
need me like the sun, and after all
will you dare to say it to my face.

i'm looking for the rush of love,
and become a *** addict,
of some girls skin, and i'll find
the skin to become addicted.

and looking for the zen state
and the skin of a girl to be a free,
**** and firm, shes going to be,
a free girl, addicted to my,
looking for the lovely lioness

waiting to the one, how well say it
to me face, forgetting the creeps wimps,
and their pathetic harassment,
and take
my hand, and get on
top of me.


a **** lionnes that looks,
the creeps to their faces,
and jump on top of me, looking at them
and be free, next to me.

looking for the brave lionnes,
that will loves me , and deal with it.
and be free right next to me.
on a state, of zen speed...

I thought that I would try my hand at a short children’s story.

---

Johny was bored. In fact he couldn’t remember having ever felt so fed up in his entire life. Dad had fallen asleep reading the paper while his mum sat reading some silly book with long words he couldn’t understand.
“I’m bored”.
“Why don’t you go and find someone to play with? There are lots of children on the beach, so many I can’t count them” his mother said laughing.
“Don’t want to. I’m bored” Johny said kicking sand in his mum’s face.
“You naughty boy!” Mrs Thomas said desperately attempting to clear her eyes of sand with a tissue. “Just wait until I get my hands on you!”
Johny felt guilty but he wasn’t about to apologise. Saying sorry was for wimps and he was no wimp. Before his mum had chance to get the sand out of her eyes Johny ran into the sea.
The water was cool. Johny kicked his legs sending water splashing high into the air. This was fun! Johny paddled away from the beach. He was no longer bored, this was much more interesting than reading a boring old newspaper or a book with words he couldn’t understand.
Suddenly the ground began to ***** downwards. Johny felt that he was going to be ****** to the very bottom of the ocean.
“Help!” he cried his hands grabbing at an enormous chain of sea ****. Gosh the chain was thick, bigger even than his dad’s huge arms. The chain didn’t move.
“That’s lucky I thought that sea **** floated but this is attached to something. Its stopped me from drowning. If it moved then I’d be ****** to the bottom of the ocean” Johny said with a shiver.
Johny followed the chain down. It was attached to a large rock.
“I wonder if I can lift this rock” Johny thought.
He tugged at the chain. Nothing happened.
“You will move you stupid rock” he said digging his toes into the soft sand and pulling back with all his strenghth. Suddenly there was a loud pop followed by a gurgling sound. Johny found himself lying flat on his back in a puddle of water. A puddle that couldn’t be right!
“Now look what you have done!”
Johny looked up to see a star fish desperately trying to find some water to swim in.
“You have let the plug out!”
“But I didn’t mean to!”
“That’s all very well but the fact is that you pulled the plug out and soon I and the other creatures who live in the sea will have no water to swim in. Without water we will die!”
Johny began to cry.
“I’m very sorry I didn’t know that the sea had a plug”.
“Your bath has a plug doesn’t it?”
“Yes of course”.
“Well then it should be obvious to an intelligent little boy like you that the ocean has a plug. How else do you think the sea god controls the tide? But the sea god only opens the plug hole a little bit so that I and the other creatures have time to swim far out into the ocean before the water disappears. There are lots of plugs all over the world and you have pulled one of them out completely!”
“What can I do? I’m very sorry Mr star fish, please just tell me what I can do”.
“See that cave over there?” the star fish asked pointing in the direction of a small cave in the cliff face.
“Yes”.
“Run as quick as you can and turn the taps on”.
“The taps?”
“I thought that you where a clever little boy. Yes the taps. Your sink and bath at home have taps don’t they to fill them up? So how else do you think that the sea god fills up the ocean?”
“Wow I didn’t know that” Johny said. As quick as a flash Johny raced to the cave. Inside he found a huge tap built into the cliff face.
“I’ll never be able to move that” Johny thought looking sadly at the enormous tap, “but I must otherwise all those poor sea creatures will die and it will be all my fault”. Taking hold of the tap Johny turned with all his might. At first nothing happened but, gradually a stream of salt water began to flow from the secret pipes hidden far below the sea bed. The sea level began to rise. Johny could see small waves dancing in the sunshine.
“Thank you little boy” the star fish called as he headed out into the deep blue ocean.

The end

I send lil paper ships sailing down the curb
as the crows and the vultures attack the trashcans in the suburbs
I watch the rich kids driving there nice whips
but they are a bunch of wimps
one punch in there lip
one kick in the knees
and they'd just limp away
because even though im a poor kid
ive lived more life
even though they call me skid
even though im a skinny kid
id still bust all over your girlfreinds ****
and in the black light she would shine like a florecent lightbulb
while your sitting on your golf cart
im making **** noises on the belly of your women
making her my mistress
making the matress squeak
as my lil paper ship sails down
who would've known what was happening when i was making it
now were both laughing
because when you get home
your gonna be kissing my ****
ha
ha
ha

A warrior with clean armour
Has not seen real battle
He bares his fangs
But bares no scars

A bladeless sword
All for show
A conversation piece
For cowardice not war

A rusted knight
With a heart of gold
So cumbersome
It became a curse

A war for wimps
A social life battle
Casualties of black sheep
Are the real fallen soldiers.

♠ ♠ ♠

Pseudo-Oriental visions
Haiku, Tanka, exotic terms
Vapid New Age vibe-transmissions
proliferating eastern germs…

Anarchistic thought collages
Existential lacerations
Nihilistic heart-massages
Incoherent lamentations,

Communism on a mission,
grievance-mongering, stewed in hate;
pounding Fascist fusion/fission
chanting harshly “ours the state”,

Hymns to Gods who choked on *****
undertaken in overdose;
rocks that never rose to comet
rolling – but ending comatose,

Hipster ironies, tongue in chic
Metro-wimps who feign the normal,
Redneck rantings up the creek
semaphoric,  semi-formal,

matron’s maudlin observations,
motivational hypnosis,
(sentimental medications
offered prior to diagnosis),

coldly abstract neo-nonsense
read (by dullards) as cutting edge,
letters void of correspondence;
well-trimmed words’ linguistic hedge.

Climate whining (tried untrue)
with eco-prophecies warning doom,
Wiccans and tree-sprites trying to
undo the curse and lift the gloom,

Feministic tribal ranting,
Race-complaining, agitation,
GLBT gallivanting –
all are blights upon our nation.

Boring modernist excess,
(no longer daring  –  formulaic)
confounds –  yet never can address
what’s wrong, and so becomes prosaic.

Lists like this are perhaps  the worst;
another symptom of our times:
we who are woefully unversed
in rhythmic complaining that rhymes.

lucky dai the builder,
was ill at home in bed,
a breeze block missed his shoulder,
but hit him on the head,
he'll wear a hat and steel cap boots,
when in work tomorrow,
the block bounced off his nut,
and landed on his toe,
he thought that health and safety,
was only meant for wimps,
his helmet sits upon his head,
and wobbles when he limps.

I stand in a meadow, confused and lost,
Amidst a war won, before it's even been fought,
There are screams of agony, and flailing limbs,
Muscled warriors, and butchered wimps,
And then a river of red, not water nor blood,
Bearing men of scarlet, all seemingly mad,
There is a scream, then the world turns cold,
A revelation of the future passed on, but yet untold,
I stand in the middle of it all, invincible it seems,
A god yet a mortal, in the world of dreams.

Born into a dark night village
Crawl disgustingly around the wood
Flame glowing with annoyance
Bowed by pained face of cruel looks
Swings back, front, sideways
No laughter but doom weather
Hopelessness after others before

Questions abound in grim faces
Will this be different or more of the same?
Kids run around innocently in frenzy welcome
Into their world of despair and pain
Laughter for the sake of hopelessness
Big brother arrives and name attractive
‘Been to'  ‘go bring am hope' the mother wimps

Papa and mama wonder about ‘morrow
Hopelessness must be conquered
No more pain, no more sorrow
School three miles in crushing sun
‘Gari' and groundnut in pockets
Danger lurking in the corner
But the storm inspires for ‘morrow

The journey seems long but hope not far
When all rewind from the past of yore
Triggered by that which was said of old
Hope replaces despair and bitter, sweet
It wont be long my brother
Try hard folk and don't miss the price
The pain is deep but the gain is here.

If I could heal
You all
With one word
Love
Would be the remedy
Let me
Remind you
That clichés
Are cliché
For a reason
Repetition
Is the father
Of Learning
Reciting
What I’ve learned
Is the mother
Of memory
Let’s not forget
How
We got here
I could bore you
Of how
The Lore taught love
But you’d rather
Be excited
With
The hoard of hatred
Spread
Like gossip
My gospel
Isn’t hostile enough
For you’re approval
Violence entertains
The vile lance
Pierced
The heart of a poet

The crowd applauds
Appalled
At the wimps
Who whine about it

Greetings from us at Homeland Security.
We hope you had a pleasant journey.
But keep in mind there's no guarantee
That you won't exit on a gurney.

You should love our border camps,
Which are still progressing in stages.
We have “subdivided rooms.”
(We don't like to call them cages.)

We strive to stifle criticism.
Please ignore our critics' lore.
Doesn't everybody love
To camp out on a cold, hard floor?

We provide you with a blanket.
What? One is not enough?
Crowded rooms should keep you warm.
Exposure to germs will make you tough!

Lest you feel our detention centers
Are too uncomfortable or stark,
We leave the lights on for twenty-four hours
Daily in case you're afraid of the dark.

What? You say you need a doctor?
Come on, beggars can't be choosers.
Toothbrushes? Toothpaste? Soap?
Those are just for wimps or losers.

We all want your stay to be
Just as pleasant as we can make it.
True, some have died, but they’re
The weaker ones who cannot take it.

If your kids were taken away,
We don't mean to disrespect you,
But since only God knows where they are,
Then we'll let God reconnect you.

Locking kids in windowless
Warehouses in our recollection
Is a way to offer the kids
Security and protection.

If perhaps you’re seeking asylum,
One little thing might give you pause:
The president is working on
Ways to change asylum laws.

We know the whole idea of camps
Polarizes, or causes a schism.
In figuring out what to call them,
We prefer the euphemism.

So, enjoy your stay until
The powers that be decide your fate.
If you’re lucky, you’ll get a shower
During your long, protracted wait.

-by Bob B (6-24-19)

The day began early.  This morning’s sunset was exceptionally beautiful, cloudless in fact. No rain forecast whatsoever.  Clearing cobwebs seemed imminent.  Suddenly without warning, huge spiders appeared, some with large boots, others smoking wooden pipes. Very scary business.  “She’ll go soon” said one massive spider smiling confidently. “Too right” announced his neighbour. “They all follow suit, petrified like wimps!”
Fortunately brave’s my middle name.   Appearing unafraid or “wimpish, shakily but slowly I gingerly edged towards a door which had been left conveniently open, muscles let rip, brain cells sent messages “red alert”, firing tendons and ran. I’m not that courageous!

Our way is the right way
Just like ****** has shown.
We will carry automatic weapons
And you must leave us alone.
Keep your liberal mouths shut
Give KKK politicians a pass.
If you don’t our President will
Okay thugs to kick your ***.

You had your own way too long
With jerks like that FDR guy was.
We have taken over everything now.
Haven’t you heard the buzz?
We don’t care about equal rights
And **** and blacks and Jews.
We have plenty of Republicans
And Fascists we can use.

We’re going to beat you up
We’re going to **** your kids
We’re going to blow you up
’Til you agree with what we said.
Our way is the right way
Yours is a piece of crap.
We will walk all over your rights
And give The Constitution a slap!

We can take those stupid laws down
That tell us to agree with you
Or hear you or behave ourselves.
Any time we don’t want to.
So quit all your sickening whining
About the things we have done
Like rioting against you wimps.
Your day is over, we have won.

We won because most of you
Like the Germans of the forties
Let spread our righteous hatred
In murderous, cleansing sorties.
So don’t look for magic tricks
Played by a powerful evil elf.
Everything that is happening now
You can only blame yourself.

We’re going to beat you up
We’re going to **** your kids
We’re going to blow you up
’Til you agree with what we said.
Our way is the right way
Yours is a piece of crap.
We will walk all over your rights
And give The Constitution a slap!

Behold this moment of stillness
Before your eyes is us
The witty, the broken, the loved, the happy, the angry, the starving, the sexually abused, the widows, the wimps, the selfish, the great, and the dull
All with a voice
All with different dreams and screams released or withheld
Apart, alone, dying
Together, in company, dying
Cycles and roles at their finest
Dressed for the occasion of an unexpected death
Naked for the occasion of a predictable sunrise
Time is impeccably relevant to quenching the thirst of desire
Be not only a dreamer, for life, is already a dream
Everything you are is now, and now is all you know
In a fools ego rest the space to which fears the hollow truth-
A voice with no meaning and passion with no action are as useless as
a city of fools

Dedicated to William Shakespeare, Gene Roddenberry,
Lewis Carroll and Franz Joseph Haydn.*

The power scythe roared and quivered;
Had he chops, he would have licked them -
So rabid was he to taste the fray.

Verdure clad stalks by the thousands
Eschewed all feint of
Futile resistance -
Falling like spineless wimps
Before the carbon breathed Leviathon's
Cyclonic advance.

Pausing only to quaff
A long draft of energy potion,
Toro relentlessly carved a swath
Across the battle ground -
Vorpally snicker-snacking his way
Toward the mission's
inexorable termination.

A single command
Brought the roaring vortex to a halt.
Victorious, sans medals or ceremony,
Captain Toro was debriefed
And escorted back
To his lonely barracks
To sleep, perchance to dream
Of past and future triumphs
In the jungle wilds at the confluence
Of Prairie and Missouri Avenues.

*August,  2007

Two days of hunger
one bread to feed
Four mouth opens
and all i hear is silence
speaking from heart beat


Stumbling in pain
she begs not to touch her esteem
compelled to live in hell
she has been traded for few fins
unable to endure the defeat
she wimps in grief
all I hear is silence
speaking from her heartbeat

Happy family of five they were
No vain, no plea
everything was lost in a blink of eye
when they saw missiles coming to their street
two are left homeless
shedding tears in fleet
all I hear is silence
speaking from their heartbeat

Shredded, rattled body lies in the ground
River of blood flows
Poverty, hunger and human are trade all around
Still no one bothers
Humanity has become so weak
WHY ALWAYS SILENCE
WHEN ARE WE GOING TO SPEAK......................

Written by: Thando DeBrokenPoet
Book: Simple Poetree

I Feel Alone,
Like A Statue
Living In A World That Is Unknown

I feel Ignored,
Like No One Cares-
If I'm Sad Or Bored.
My Life Is Filled With Nightmares
Which Steal My Sleep.

Pain Went So Deep,
at Night-time I Soak Under My Pillow And Cry
Asking My Self Quetions With too Many Why's.
What's The To Live For
This World Is So Cold.

No Family
No Friends
Just enemies
And rivals.

If You're Reading
This Note, Help My Bleeding
Heart.
Because
it's Torn Apart.

Depression filling My Soul
Darkness, A ******* Hole.
No one Can Understand This Pain
Nothing To Lose, and nothing to Gain.
I'm
Just Some Reject From Heaven
To Hell.

I wish All Could Go Away
So I could Live A Normal Day.
Oh, God Is So Far Away
Who Can Brighten My Day?

My Thoughts Are Unkind
Every Time The Pull Me
to My Darkest Side,
And
If Only The Future I Could See.

I Keep Pulling My Self Together
But, Will This Loneliness
Last Forever?
Because
I Wish To Ascape This Sadness.

Tears All over My Eyes,
Scars All over My Hand,
Blood All Over My Legs
And Rope Surrounding My Neck.

To You Cruel World, You Thought I Was Weird
Sitting The Alone.
You Thought I Was Mad
for They Bullied Me, And I Smiled.
No It Was The Feeling Of Pain
Tickling My Brain.

No One Could Understand The Pain Of Orphan
Birth Pains Are Less Than Those Of An Orphan.
I Sit Alone
For I fear To Be Treated
Like Brandon.

The Wierd Guy On Generations,
That Coloured Dude
Whose Different From Others
In His School.
On earth We're Treated Like Freaks,
Kids Laugh at us Cause We're Wimps.

Death Taste Bitter
But Life Ain't Better.
Suicide Bubbles Keep
Blowing, Wierd Voices
"Join Us Thando, These No-love
In This World For You".
_
"Those Who Gave Birth To You,
Dumped You In ******* Bin
If They Rejected You
Who Will Love You?"

Wimps, whiners and data miners.
All gathered here together.
Crooks, embezzlers and free ***** guzzlers
And hookers dressed in leather.
Lying, cheating and some **** beating
And even some ****** games.
Walls at borders and restraining orders
And finding others to blame.


Cheaters, beaters and lying pig-men
Trying their best to succeed
In the race for worst ******* of them all.
One more ripoff is all they need.
Blaming, shaming and gerrymandering
Doing their best to become
Millionaires, billionaires, zillionaires
Ruling absolutely over the dumb.

Mewling, puking and crying out loud
Losing stolen funds they invested.
Society defeafened from applause and hurrahs
When the lot of them are arrested.
Ripping, tearing their thousand dollar suits;
Begging their thousand year old God.
They’re the twenty first century Washington batch
Of Wynken, Blynken and Nod.

I have watched you cheat and swindle.
I’ve listened to your shallow lies.
I have seen what passes for integrity
In the avarice that shines from your eyes.
You don’t seem to be able to talk much
Without over-exaggerating the truth.
You speak like the infamous cookie-jar kid,
But, you don’t have the advantage of youth.

It doesn’t take long to recognize
That you are just a fake and a crook.
You can’t avoid exhibiting behavior
Of every villain in the story books.
All you need is a handlebar mustache
And a damsel to rope to the tracks
For us to know exactly who you are;
That Snively Whiplash is back!

But alas we have no Dudley Doright
To come along and vanquish the foe.
The heroes have all died out, it seems
And we only ever had eleven or so.
The rest are cowards, covering ***
And hiding behind wimpy excuses
That let the gang leaders do their worst
And heap on us further abuses.

As always the way with dictators
They need the people to lie down
And let themselves be driven over
By a huge car driven by a clown.
Those are the wimps, and the marks
Who quit learning in elementary school
Who can’t tell a statesman from a crook
And applaud when listening to a fool.

But not all of us are hornswoggled;
Some of us can read the danger signs.
We scream and shout all the way through
To idiots that seem deaf and blind.
In vain we insist of those not too bright
That the leaders should go by the book .
No matter how stupid you think we are
We’re not all as dumb as you look.