Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Chony and Mony
Butterflies, yellow and blue
Loved flowers in hues

Of the two brothers
Chony, naughty and witty
Mony, naive with innocent charm

Living every moment
Flitting and sipping
Listening to the garden song

Changing colours
A chameleon in wait
The brothers knew its taste

As it rested its colour to blue
Chony knew it right away
Momma had taught to flit past that hue

Held Mony by it’s wing
Mony knew it was a danger sign
Opposite direction, was the call

The hungry chameleon
Rolled its eyes, surmised
Time to call it a day
Written on 23-03-2019
Maria Land Oct 2018
Every word you say is a bullet, an arrow, a dart,
Each said with careful precision pointed directly at my heart,
I think I'm bright enough to realize this is exactly where you aim,
But do you shoot at me and angles or do you always hunt the same,
I know how this ends for me, deep sadness with depression to follow,
But until then please free refill every dark crevice, every hollow,
It's exhausting when your feelings are born in compliments and text replies,
And all future plans and happy smiles rest in anticipated when's and curious why's,
I routinely drown myself in endless thought showcasing every possible scenario,
My vulnerable reflection with calculated filters is a rare appearance few ever know,
Please know I'm only quietly complicated because that's my procedure for life,
And in the vast spaces and covert corners of my mind violence is conveniently rife,
Ultimately I'll allow your arresting eyes to win over common sense and Native wit,
Yet still loyally protest and grieve your lust when what I get is what I get!
Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
If I had a nickel for every each and every Republican lie
Guess how many congress men and women I could buy.
I could buy another country and then I could use it to
Put all those Republicans in. I would. Wouldn’t you?

I could work with medical science people
To make a vaccine legal in court
That would make all the legal criminals
Wake up just three or four feet short
And green and purple spots on them
To make them all immediately stand out.
Then, when we saw one of them in public
We could point at them and loudly shout.

If we could somehow get back from them
All the time they have wasted each year
We could give it all to people who now
Live without hope, and only have fear.
We could legalize prostitution as well
And make them all perform as doxies.
But, who would want to make it with them?
So, they would have to hire some proxies.

We could do the same with lobbyists
And others who bribe representatives.
And we could quadruple the taxes owed
On them and all their pensioned relatives.
We could make the remove graffiti marks
Off of all our defaced walls and things.
Then, we could make them work fast food
And try to live by cooking onion rings.

If we could make that stuff from that movie
That made liars tell nothing but the truth
We could sniff these evil ******* out
While they are still in their stinking youth.
We could penalize their parents too
For miseducating them so very badly.
But there is no such magic potion
And I make that statement sadly.

Brent Kincaid

— The End —