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Brent Kincaid Oct 2017
John is what hookers call
Their customers in this land.
They make him feel like a king
And tell him he is grand.
They fuss over him like royalty
As long as he pays the bills.
His habits can make stomachs turn.
He’d be dead, if looks could ****.

King John, the biggest ******
To have ever worn the crown
If he were an office building
He would quickly be torn down.
Nobody ever thinks of him
In any pleasant kind of way.
If he has a need he needs filled
No freebies, he has to pay.

If there is some slimy way
To speak a simple sentence
He will choose it, and insult
With no thought of repentance.
He owes his wealth to ***** tricks
And that is just what he is.
An absolute and total waste
Of his awful father’s ****.

King John sits on his throne
Gathers soulless souls around.
He laughs at those who take his bribes;
A particularly ugly sound.
He has no conscience, so doesn’t see
How quickly his presence can pall.
He is the king of a kind of hell;
No kind of royalty at all.
A Poet Apr 2017
Neon signs and names on the marquee,
My heart breaks every step that I take,
Walking through these Vegas streets,
Will end alone wrapped in sheets

Blood drips from cut wrists,
I ball in the morning,
my clothes ripped,
*Is this all I am?
"Hey mister, how you doing?"

"Do you need a friend tonight?'

"I can take away your troubles"

"I can make what's wrong seem right"

A woman's thoughts from a childs voice

Knocked me senseless in the dark

I guess I should know better

Than to walk home through the park

"Baby, you'll forget your troubles"

"If you'll spend some time with me"

"Where's your car? Just let's go do it"

"You'll really like it, wait and see"

I kept my pace and ventured forward

I didn't want to see her face

I didn't want to see her standing

So I began to increase my pace

"C'mon baby, it's worth your while"

"I can make your problems go"

"It won't take long, I know you'll like it"

"Come and play, it's fun...you know!"

I turned around to see the speaker

Just to say that I'd heard enough

I didn't want to hurt her either

I didn't want to come off tough

So when I stopped and turned to face her

From the darkness she stepped out

A tiny child in a woman's outfit

Looking like she'd been knocked about

I said "No thanks", this ain't my style

I just want to get on home

I want to go about my business

And I want to go on home alone.

"But baby, I'm the best thing ever"

"You'll never find a girl like me"

I swear to God, she acted older

But she only looked one score less three

I looked at her and something tingled

"Sure, let's go" I spoke aloud

Then she smiled, ever so slightly

She hooked my arm and I gently bowed

"I have a question, dear...before we"

"Head on out to do the deed"

"When did you last eat dinner"

"When was your last real good feed?

"It's been a while, I can see that"

"Your'e nothing more than skin and bone"

"If your'e my date, we'll first have dinner"

"Then, I'll take you to my home"

'She acted tough, but failed to hide it

"Dinner..fine..but then we go"

I smiled back, and off we ventured

Through the park, our heads bowed low

We found a small, deserted diner

We took a booth where we could talk

Talking was just what I wanted

But talking, that's where she would balk

She ate her meal like a starving beasty

Sparks were flying off the plate

What? I thought had forced this child

To turning tricks to be her fate?

We finished up and left the diner

She said that I would not regret

I took her home like I had promised

For a night  I'd not forget

I hung her coat inside the closet

Climbed the stairs up to my room

She followed close, but was not speaking

The air hung heavy with her gloom

I said "Before we do the dealing"

"You should clean up...the showers there"

I found a robe and watched her smile

I then sait down in my old chair

I heard the water run forever

She came out clean as she could get

She wore the robe and a small hand towel

Wrapped about her hair so wet

I'd make some drinks, some nice hot chocolate

I sat her down and then she spoke

"I'd like to thank you for the dinner"

"do you mind if I have a smoke?"

I told her fine, but had my reasons

I'd keep her busy, without ***

She talked for hours, just like a child

She was rubbing her bruised neck

She said she'd run from down in Georgia

Coming here was not her plan

She had wanted to go to college

But this was where the poor girl ran

It's funny but this child like woman

Never talked of why she'd come

She talked of people she was missing

She'd said she'd like to once more run

She nodded off into a slumber

I picked her up and laid her down

I wrapped her up with a warm blanket

And then I headed off to town

When she awoke, I sat there smiling

And not a word was ever said

For when I left, I bought a ticket

One...to Georgia...lay on the bed.

I said "It's yours...if you should want it"

"You've got three hours, so let's go eat"

This waif like girl then responded

With a smile that just could not be beat

We headed back down to the diner

Breakfast was the meal this time

I paid the bill and from my wallet

Said "Here, take this...it's still my dime"

This girl was lost inside her body

I helped her find her way  again

I watched her leave clutching the ticket

I knew we'd never meet again

I hope she found where she was heading

I hope she made it , I admit

I never went to check the depot

I hoped she used that bus ticket

Another night, another walk home

Another voice came from the dark

"Hey sweetie, you look kind of lonely"

I smiled..and walked back in the park.......
.
Read by Jim Cressman on Straight Talk with Bill Paul...Fanshawe Radio
Àŧùl Jan 2016
PCR
Polymerase Chain Reaction
Police Control Room
I need to learn the first one,
And its various types.
Ah, the second one can help me get my heart back.
My HP Poem #949
©Atul Kaushal
Black leather elf boots
Leggings
Cheetah print mini-skirt
Suede short coat
Too long in the sleeves
Someone's sweater with
A hole under the arm
One thumbprint sized bruise on my neck
Make-up frozen, clumped in the night air
Within my cone of oasis
From the halogen above
My breath mingles with the
Bile colored light
Smelling like Newports and tooth decay
I hug my self for warmth and
Shuffle foot to foot
Comforted only by the
Bulge in my boots
Representing the last few hours work
I clutch my purse tight
My toolbox
Not hammers or wrenches but
Tools of my trade
Baby wipes, sanitizer, tampons, and condoms
I hear a car slowing
Harsh redness of brake lights
Bloodies the vacant buildings
I lean toward the
Lowered window wondering
Will I continue to
Be the predator or
Fall tonight as prey
Old men
young men
& middle aged men
I'd **** them all!
You men,
You are just money!

Big men
small men
& average men,
I'd **** you all!
Hey men,
Give me your money!

Tough men
weak men
& middle men,
I'd take it all!
So men,
Have you got money?

Black men
white men
& well read men,
**** them all!
Oh men,
I just need money!

As long
as you
are rich men
I'd give you all
Amen
(Just for the money)
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