Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Sep 2016 Lisa Pike
dennis drain
Clip full to the max and one in the chamber,
No fears can't stop a solder who's ready for danger,
rather fight with bare knuckles than wast bullets on suckers.
Mother ******* under estimate me cuz I'm white.
But see i fight big dudes like 6 foot 2 without a crew,
I'm 5'6 and skinny but still takin every hit like a man and winning!
Walking tall, back to my enemy's after every brawl,
Like If you wanna hit me from the back "ok", that's cool, be a punk, and think your bad.
I don't do **** unless I'm starin at your face.
I don't even bust my gat without steppin out my ride and gettin my target in sight.
Don't underestimate me cuz of my size or baby blue eyes,
I was raised by killers, drug dealers, and fiends. caught my first felony case at 14 and did 2 almoast 3 years in a box under lock and key!
Apon my release I kept my face muggin mean and nobody in this new town messed with me!
Police gave a warning sayin, " we got a gangster with a violent history"!!
No chance for me to explain my being,
Labeled for my violent felonies.
the sight of me drove fear into my peers And attracted fine honeys.
Each looking to put their claim on me,
but I keept it OG. and gave em all a taste of me.
It was shortly thereafter that a bad crowd found me.
Crowned me a bad *** and treated me like a king!!
Looking to me to act boldly and disregard authority.
I needed no prompting to put a ******* up proudly, where everybody could see my defiance speaking loudly.
I love the lack of ****'s I give, I'm a piece criminal and say it proudly.
Im still one to fear but the closest of peers adore me for my risk taking and back having.
One face for all to see, my attitude of **** all you equally!!
A nice guy when you take the time to get to know me.
But I appreciate the fear I instill in strangers who steer clear of me.
I'm the same as I was long before I met anybody I know now!!
I just grew 2 feet and made my voice loud so I could lead a crowd, or pick a fight with the whole **** town!!
There's no changin the true me inside, even if now a days I've tried to stay away from drama and trouble.
I'll still ****, I'm still down for a bare knuckle rumble in the streets. I still do steel to eat, Rob houses and cars for money, do drugs and sell em to.
Only thing holding me back from screamin at police while I attack em and strip em of they badge, is a woman I found that grounded me.
Gave my delinquent mind clarity and gave me my first taste of love, truer than I've ever had as a ****
She respects every aspect of my past and only asks that I keep in check,
so I can stay around make a check and and bless every breath she has left.
So I do my best and respect the limits she sets.
Never over stepping her wishes unless I know the situation best,
and know for a fact that my actions will bring less regret.
But regardless of the love I hold or the wishes she bestowes Im still a gangster throwing up 1-4, wearing red and repin as a Norteno, cuz my stripes are big I did men's work as a kid, and took beatings like they didn't happen when theyes did
I been strapin myself since 11 when I stole a little 22 from up under the mattress of my uncles friend ben.
I used it a lot! Used to bring it to school.
never showed it off cuz the point wasn't to be cool.
i had it with the intentions of smokin a fool!
now I'm 18 and I've slowed slightly,
but don't think that just cuz I'm treating you nicely that I won't **** you with a dull knife and stick around to watch you slip into nice sleep!
Point being I'll treat you with what respect you deserve but cross me an ima eat your ******. Soul for desert!!!!
 Sep 2016 Lisa Pike
Doug Potter
Dark against a glacier-blue sky;
a flying Crucifix silent as a stone.
Bald Eagles are numerous where I live in Iowa.  Never a day goes by that I don't see dozens, if I want.
 Sep 2016 Lisa Pike
Joel M Frye
The power of music
and friendship
heals dead connections;
a well-meaning member
of a jam session
offers me a guitar.
I politely decline,
embarrassed by my disability,
and they shrug.  Your choice.
The familiar curves
beneath my arm
like a woman
from my past,
my amnesiac left hand
reaches for the
muscle memory
of fifty years' practice.
After an agonizing minute,
the G chord miraculously plays,
as I played it at five,
the three big fingers alone
strong enough to hold it.
The switch to C impossible;
so I play a variation.
Doesn't sound bad with the group.
My God, I might play a D7
by the next time it comes around
in the song.
The gang is playing old standards,
Ohio State music;
three chords and a cloud of dust,
which suits my present skill(?) well.
I almost cried when a few tunes later,
we sang A Horse With No Name
to my accompaniment.

Beethoven was deaf, yet heard the Ode To Joy.
Hawking is paralyzed, and travels the universe.
I have three good fingers,
and no good excuses.
Next page