Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Imprisoned inside tall red brick built tenements
curtained in by cheap store bought accoutrements
and locking up the world outside within with a needle and a pin and sewing life away.
where we stitch up every day as if only cross stitching could show or say how angry that we are
and far above some half existent but quite persistent feelings that the life we live is what we get for being better than the dogs that line the streets with pockets bulging emptiness
is more or less the happiness that we were told of, when we read books in those classrooms dripping coldness from the cold lights,prefabricated by the councils to educate the poor and in this we have believed for fifty years or more.

But technograbbers took the high road
ripped the legs from under desks by which we sat
and then they spat on former teaching
teachers in the pay of local educational authorities
had no authority to intervene
and preaching texts that they had learnt by heart 'cause all the textbooks burnt far brighter in the fires in tenements
where former pupils with dilated eyes felt the cold much keener,much cleaner than the dogs upon the streets
and behind the curtained windows I weep for a yesterday when as a young child I could play outside and not wonder what the future held.
Held spellbound by the monkey man who turned the handle on his barrel ***** and put a flat cap on the ground which magically
naturally filled with pennies from the folks who had such things.

Sadness and the lack of more or less brings me nothing but the bulging emptiness
and the breaking of another spine
another book a former time
and locking in the world outside
I bide my time
and watch
the black and white
the day within the night
I'll be alright
just me and shotgun joe beside the bed
and nothing else to spoil nothing
that we never had but there are badmen in the badlands
roaming tenemental bands that would cut your throats
if you looked twice or even once at them
Like the dog down in the street I never raise my eyes to meet
anyone or any other
why bother
it's just the way it is.
Aaron LaLux Sep 2017
Inspirational passions,
passin’ in the Fast Lane actin’ dready no Andretti no crashin’,
cashin’ bowls and buying vowels,
moving bowels from full plates No Alex Trabek no rations,

no talkin’ trash wheels spinning no traction,
no mackin’ all in ******* heavy weight UFC non-stop action,

this is angry aggression mixed with considerate compassion,
this is six men on six horses at 6pm screamin’ six guns blastin’,
through an actual galaxy of factual fallacies,
with cash counting kings and hash smokin’ assassins,
killin’ the villains and other shady characters,
to protect the women and children from the lawless badmen,

and those that know know and those that don’t don’t,
so there’s no need to was time askin’,
all knowns shown through prose and poem,
the words your eyes have heard are everything that happens,

well then,

welcome if you come in peace please have a piece of the pie,
high as Heaven on Cloud 9 in line with inspirational passions,
thought we’d escaped and found a way out,
but instead found outt we’d be summoned back in,

Inspirational passion,
passin’ in the Fast Lane actin’ dready no Andretti no crashin’,
cashin’ bowls and buying vowels,
moving bowels from full plates No Alex Trabek no rations,

no talkin’ trash wheels spinning no traction,
no mackin’ all in ******* heavy weight UFC non-stop action,

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

from THHT2: Nightmares & Dreamscapes
A worldwide #1 best selling poetry book

Bean Dec 2012
I have scars inside that no one can see,
and I have scars on the outside I don’t
show for fear, someone will discover me.
Because I hide inside a shell of won’t.

My father used to say sticks and stones will
break your bones but words will never hurt you.
But daddy you were so wrong, words can ****.
Yet still with you I could never argue.

Dad I have changed so much in these past years.
You would not recognize your little girl,
the one who used to laugh and share her fears,
all I want is to let go and uncurl,

from this ball of everlasting haze, then
escape from this sad, harsh world of badmen.
Geno Cattouse Jan 2014
From thirty thousand feet above the desert floor I see it there below.
A city with a legend, the west Texas city of El Paso.

my mind is somewhere down there as I fly above the badlands of new Mexico.
Rose's cantina.

Bullets and badmen.
Don't take your guns to town son.
Marty Robbins made it real with his guitar and aching vocals
Deena May 2017
I'm questioning my sanity again.
I'm a lost soul ready to fly.
I'm joining the groups of madmen.
I'm wandering the world ready to die.
I'm stuck in a group of badmen.
I'm feeling hopeless and I'll cry.
I'm ready to say goodbye.
Scorch'd Diana Jul 2021
Joke about things that you understand
chopping off your tongue like your thieverish hand
you pathetic pre-realizationate rip-off
knocked down into your cultural crack ***, you show-off
let's see how well you wiggle your brain cells, you ******-flutesque cello
stupidity reveal at the thirteen millionth dislike
about-to-be-fried neurons exposed to the pan
yet not YouTube, you plunder-rude
but naked and full-plugged on DeepWeb's 4chan
yelp as some really grim badmen strike
in case you understand.

However
jokes on me
devoting a driplet of ***** to you
there are so many more holes ready to rant.
A limmerick would linger for too long about dis.

— The End —