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Gavin Barnard Jan 2015
I put a finger gun to my head
And repeatedly pull the trigger,
Bang… bang… bang…
And keep telling myself why
I hate myself with every pull.

I'm certain there's plenty
Who want me dead anyways…

Bang…

I'm worthless…

Bang…

useless…

Bang…

I make people miserable by
Just standing in the same room…

Bang…

By just standing at all…

Bang…

Anybody would trade me for
A penny off a ***** street…

Bang…

I leech and take and steal…

Bang…

And I don't give back…

Bang…

I avoid people like the plague…

Bang…

They avoid me like a hurricane…

Bang…

I'm only here so they can ridicule me…

Bang…

Until I'm on my knees begging…

Bang…

I cry when I'm supposed to be strong…

Bang…

I cut when I need to vent…

Bang…

Writing isn't enough…

Bang…

I need to see my blood…

Bang…

I get everything messy…

Bang…

Mind…

Bang…

and emotion…

Bang…

I could destroy your ocean…

Bang…

Nobody would miss me…

Bang…

The terrible person that I am…

Bang…

The things I'm good at are useless…

Bang…

The things I say are meaningless…

Bang…

I throw people away…

Bang…

The ones who I've known all my life…

Bang…

The people I trust…

Bang…

The people that trust me…

Bang…

The ones that I need…

Bang…

The ones that care about me…

Bang…

The ones that I can't live without…

*Bang…

Bang…

Bang…
This could be turned into, like, a terrible rap song.
Ben Jones Feb 2013
One day
Woke up feeling randy
No one else was handy
What's to do?
Get dressed
Satisfy the horn
With badly acted ****
On pay per view
Hopes sink
Cable's on the blink
But twitter lends a helping hand
Bang, bang, come and have a *******
Gain entrance on demand

Have a *******
Come and have a *******
It's a *******
Come and have a *******

Went out
Followed the directions
Battling erections
All the while
Red cheeks
Granny at the bus stop
Let her vision drop
Then cracked a smile
Half four
Knocking at the door
It opens and a voice proclaims
"Bang, bang, come and have a *******
We've far too many dames"

The host was a sight to see
Not far over seventy
And wrapped in a silk dressing gown
I thought I would walk away
But saw that the sky was grey
And it star-
-ted *******
It down

Stepped in
Blinded by a deep gloom
Ushered to a dark room
Curtains shut
Deep breath
Air is old and musty
Carpet feeling crusty
Underfoot
Sprawled there
Women lying bare
And fellas with their organs free
Bang, bang, cover up your ****, ****
Regain your decency

Pretty *******
Pretty ****** *******
****** *******
Pretty ****** *******

Look round
Writhing on the ground
With squishy little sounds
But something's odd
Fat lass
Itching at her *** crack
Isn't that a *******?
Oh my god!
Jaw drops
Granny from the bus stop
Wearing nothing but a grin
Bang, bang, pretty ****** *******
What ******* let her in?

She's nothing but skin and bone
With ribs like a xylophone
At least several decades too old
To use the vernacular
It's like bumming Dracula
She's wiry
She's wizened
She's cold

Oh (pretty) no (******)
Rasping on my ****
With fingers like a sock
Filled up with ice
No (scary) chance (hairy)
Giving her the slip
My todger's in a grip
Just like a vice
It (saggy) seems (baggy)
Like she's in a dream
While scraping with her ancient hand
Bang, bang, ****** ****** *******
My sore and swollen gland

Granny bang bang
Granny granny *******
Granny *******
Granny ***** *******

Knock, knock
Coppers at the door
Go crawling on the floor
And off at speed
What fun
Looking at the punters
Myriad of munters
As they flee'd
Cold, wet
Drowning in regret
With trousers round my knees I stand
Bang bang ****** ****** *******
Next time I'll use my hand
Bang bang ****** ****** *******
Next time I'll use my haaaaaaaaaaaaaaand!
Cedric McClester Apr 2015
By: Cedric McClester

Bang bang
***** die slow
There’s more to hip hop
Than that ya know
It’s more than the bling
Some ****** show
More than the cribs
The cars or the dough
The culture’s diverse
And you need to know
It’s more than the **** shakin
You’ll always see
On certain shows
On the cable TV
It’s more than the dissin
The fights and braggin rights

Bang bang
***** die slow
I’m only sayin
What ya already know

Bang bang
***** die slow
We’re checkin for content
As well as for flow
You’re pimpin the game
And the homies know
You’re talkin ‘bout places
That you’ll never go
Talkin ‘bout crimes
You never committed
And it’s about time
To fess-up and admit it
Here is the deal
You need to yield
Cos it’s gettin too real
In the field

Bang bang
***** die slow
I’m only sayin
What ya already know

Bang bang
***** die slow
Ya namean
Let me give ya the low
Some name themselves
After I-talian criminals
Sending public messages
That attacks the subliminal
Then start complainin
Once they get popped
And the uninformed
Blame it on hip hop
And it’s not fair
That hip hop takes the blame
For some of you out there
That I could name

Bang bang
***** die slow
I’m only sayin
What ya already know

Bang bang
***** die slow
It’s about to be a rap
For the rap game (yo)
Rap is spiralin further
Out of control
And the government now
Sees itself in the role
Of overseer or regulator
Ya knew it would happen
Sooner or later
If you go on trial
You won’t be around
That’s their way of keepin
The Black man down
All you have to do is jus look around

Bang bang
***** die slow
I’m only sayin
What ya already know

Bang bang
***** die slow
All it takes for you to be
Good to go
Is a mouth full of platinum
And a video **
There’s more to life
Than that you know
Don’t let me be the one
To say I told you so
Cos the seeds you’re plantin
Are kinda rough to ***
But you’re convinced
That you are it
And a ****** like me
Can’t tell you ****

Bang bang
***** die slow
I’m only sayin
What ya already know

Bang bang
***** die slow
There’s more to hip hop
Than that ya know
It’s more than the bling
Some ****** show
More than the cribs
The cars or the dough
The culture’s diverse
And you need to know
It’s more than the **** shakin
You’ll always see
On certain shows
On the cable TV
It’s more than the dissin
The fights and braggin rights


(c) Copyright, 2015 Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
Afrodita Nestor Feb 2014
**** **** Bang Bang
I'm a soldier without a rang

**** **** Bang Bang
I don't even have a gang

**** **** Bang Bang
I'll have to catch the new slang

**** **** Bang Bang
Am I ever gonna get the hang

**** **** Bang Bang
I have to find my yin-yang

**** **** Bang Bang
Why am I going mad?

**** **** Bang Bang
Why am I feeling bad?

**** **** Bang Bang
I don't want my feathers shed

**** **** Bang Bang
I have told I have said

**** **** Bang Bang
I'm alive but she is dead
Copyright Afrodita Nestor
Lelu Apr 2014
BANG!
up
to action
BANG!
rising panic
adrenalin
BANG!
swiftly
to the window
BANG!
fluorescent yellow jackets
they're here
BANG!
its the back door
set the barricade
BANG!
will it hold?
not for long
BANG!
they've come later
than usual
BANG!
we'd thought
not today
BANG!
we'd dropped our guard
prepared food
BANG!
a meal
cooked in vain
BANG!
the barricade
starts to fail
BANG!
our bodies flung
at the metal door
BANG!
summon strength
hold it closed
BANG!
successive impacts
rattle our bones
BANG!
screaming now
rage and pain
BANG!
"open the door!"
"*******!!"
BANG!
we wont make it
easy for them
BANG!
but we know
how this ends
BANG!
our home in chaos
frantic packing
BANG!
save the tools
we'll need them
BANG!
they're our keys
to a new home
BANG!
our foes advance
on another door
BANG!
they're determined
so are we
BANG!
it breaks
the door opens
SLAM!
somehow
we kick it back shut
SILENCE
they've stopped
why?
VOICES
the other door
they're in.
Joana Apr 2016
Bang Bang Bang
The only thing I can hear

Bang Bang Bang
The sound that you left me

Bang Bang Bang
Where your hand met my face

Bang Bang Bang
All the emotions disappeared

Bang Bang Bang
One more time

Bang Bang Bang
For the last time
Michael Angelo May 2018
We were young when we were friends.
Always used to play pretend.
I was a cop. He was a crook.
Never did things by the book.

Bang bang, he shot me down.
Bang bang, I hit the ground.
Bang bang, that awful sound.
Bang bang, my buddy shot me down.

It was us against the crowd, But time passed, parted us like clouds.
I fit in. He wasn't allowed.
He looked for help, I didn't make a sound.

Bang bang, I shot him down.
Bang bang, He hit the ground.
Bang bang, That awful sound.
Bang bang , I shot my buddy down.

Festering wounds don't heal quick.
I heard something that made me sick.
Screams echoing through the corridor.
He loaded up, kicked down the door.
I don't thing we're friends anymore.

Bang bang, he shot me down.
Bang bang, I hit the ground.
Bang bang, that awful sound.
Bang bang, my buddy shot me down.
My cover of Nancy Sinatra's 'Bang Bang (My baby shot me down)' In regards to recent events in Texas.
Alice Nov 2010
i cut out paper figures from the sky, from the sea

string them together like little beads

then rip them, tear them apart

like the ventricles of a breaking heart

i take them away, let them learn

then crumple them, or let them return

to ****** them at each other once again

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, the end

i shatter them, explode, bright like dying stars

watch them limp on with battle scars

then throw them to every corner of the Earth

to wander, wondering what they are worth

what could have beens

should have beens

would have beens

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, like shins

i make them talk, talk in tongues

that take up time, but waste their lungs

they speak in words, but they are bluffing

they are the voice, the voice of nothing

and still they walk, gasping for air

searching for a hand to tangle in theirs

tangle them, tangle them up

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, to dust

paper figures, paper hands

with paper skin, paper dance

and paper hearts, all alone

just piles of paper, piles of bones

to be recycled, back to the stars

to play again, play their parts

to leave once more, unpaid but well played

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, they fade

i crumple them, crease their flesh

make them wear a wrinkled dress

to show their beauty, hide their pain

hide and seek, the name of the game

i cut them loose, they drop their useless tongues

throw mortal blether to the wind, fill their winded lungs

paper, breakable, tearable, terrible

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, forever
© Jenna A. 11/25/2010
ConnectHook May 2017
Bang bang into the room (I know you want it)
Bang bang all over you (I’ll let you have it)
I said bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Bang bang there goes your heart (I know you want it)
Back, back seat of my car (I’ll let you have it)
Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)
Wait a minute tell you (ah)
Lyrics from a "song" by Ariana G:
Puta music for puta global culture
Go to Hell and pray for whoever...
Brent Kincaid Apr 2016
When I was a little kid
My friends and I would play
At cowboys and Indians
In the barn with forts of hay.
We crafted guns from sticks
We found about the farm
And though we shot each other
We managed to come to no harm.

Bang, bang, bang! I got you!
No you didn’t, you missed!
The bullet whizzed by me!
You can’t see me in the mist!

Of course, if we were Indians
The same rules held true there.
You never managed to **** us
We never took your hair.
But, we knew we were villains
Because cowboys were king.
We didn’t even question it.
It was that sort of thing.

Bang, bang, bang. I got you!
Cowboys don’t ever cry.
We twist and dodge you redskins
So, don’t even bother to try.

Holding invisible reins, we rode
On our noble painted steeds.
We pretended it was the old West
Here in our playground of weeds.
Some of us had play weapons
Santa had brought to the lucky
But forcing improvisation only
Made us a lot more plucky.

Bang, bang, bang. I shot you.
You ***** lowdown rustler.
Oh, we thought of every dodge.
What young, clever hustlers.
Katherine Carr Aug 2013
I feel like you're kicking me.
Deliberately.
Hitting my side with your leg.
Bang. Bang. Bang.

What motivates you? Jealously?
No, not me.
The land of nod. The dreams of peace.
Bang. Bang. Bang.

You move with no courtesy, no thought of me.
Or perhaps of you.
To let me think like such.  
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Busbar Dancer Apr 2016
A block from the office
the city is tearing down an overpass.
Today they're beating the **** out of it
with a pneumatic hammer
the size of a freight train.
Its pounding
in time with my heartbeat
like the worlds largest metronome
suspended from the end of a crane.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

I keep wondering
what’s going to happen
to all those buskers and hookers
who peddle their wares under that bridge.
I'm not seeing it though and
no observation means no poetry.
No poetry means no catharsis, and
my guts are full of hornets.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

It’s the great whisky **** of the spirit,
the all-encompassing lack of passion;
the longing for old friends;
the desire to lean on old habits
the chinks in something resembling old armor.
the crease, the seam, the fold.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

Misfire on eight.
Misfire on eight.
Misfire on eight.
There’s this pain in my head;
behind the left eye
where the secrets live.
driving and grief stricken.
(misfire on eight.)
The headache has no name, but
it sings a song.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang
VS Jun 2016
He was born at a time when the times were no good
When you'd get what you got and you got what you could
And any ground that you gave was right where you stood
And the men were men and the boys were men too
And they did what they said and they said what they'd do
There was Hell to be paid and the Devil was due

You gotta shoot 'em up bang bang
Fill 'em full of lead
Shoot 'em up bang bang
Until they're dead
"They're gonna have to pay"
That's what he said

Shoot 'em up bang bang
Gotta make 'em squeal
Shoot 'em up bang bang
Gotta seal the deal
For the pain he'd have to carry
He would see them killed

You know the darker the secret the deeper the grave
His sweet Maggie had up and left him for his best friend Gage
And that's enough to channel any man's inner rage
At first he missed her so and prayed to be released
Especially every morning when waking to no peace
Then one day he awoke and decided it would have to cease

You gotta shoot 'em up bang bang
Fill 'em full of lead
Shoot 'em up bang bang
Until they're dead
"They're gonna have to pay"
That's what he said

Shoot 'em up bang bang
Gotta make 'em squeal
Shoot 'em up bang bang
Gotta seal the deal
For the pain he'd have to carry
He would see them killed
This is a song. Southern rock.
kha Nov 2018
kasalanan bang umibig,
nang walang hangganan?
hindi nagpipigil,
laging handang lumaban?

kasalanan bang umibig,
kahit batid na masasaktan?
paulit-ulit mang matalo,
lalaban hanggang sukdulan?

kasalanan bang umibig
at bigyan ka ng mga tula,
tingin mo'y nakakakilig -
kahit ang mga mata mo'y 'di ko pa nakikita?

kasalanan bang umibig,
kapag ikaw ang nagpapangiti sa bibig,
nakulayan ang bawat pintig
ng pusong naghahanap ng hilig?

kasalanan bang ang hilig
ay ikaw na tamang-tama?
boses mo'y nakakanginig,
kahit hindi ko pa naririnig.

kasalanan bang ang hilig
ay ikaw na perpekto.
tila ginawa ka ng Diyos
na hindi maaabot.

kasalanan bang ang hilig
ay makita ka nang harapan?
upang hindi lang sa panaginip
na ako'y nasasaktan.

kasalanan bang ang hilig
ang isipin na ikaw ay tama?
hanap-hanap ang iyong titig
na pananakit lang naman ang tema?
scar Jun 2015
I lift it up, I plunge it down
And bang! There goes my childhood
Open my heart, yet make no sound
And bang! There goes my life.
I sit through life, I watch, I breathe
And bang! There goes my innocence
I turn, I spin, I help, appease
And bang! There goes my life.
I poke, I ****, I read, I write
And bang! There goes my memory
I lose my hearing, breathing, sight
And bang! There goes my life.
I touch, I tear, I bite, I kick
And bang! There go my youthful dreams
I run ‘til I make myself sick
And bang! There goes my life.
I hear the door swing back and forth
And bang! Remember vividly
A million times I’ve run this course
But bang! There goes my life.
I surrender, I wave my flag
And bang! My soul inside a box
And from the depths my self I drag
To bang! My way through life.
The drums beat all night
a relentless din
wood to leather
this beat goes on forever

****** beats that bang and bang
bang bang feel it deep within
sweat the beat away
bang bang bang

No sleep for me, too restless
as the beat goes on, bang
I 'm boarded, on the edge
with the beat in my head

I want to get naked and dance
rip my clothes away and dance
and the kicking beat goes on
spank the monkey and kiss the moon

Bang Bang Bang


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris

© 2012 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Yenson Dec 2019
I gave their guns back to them
with all the bullets taken out and no firing pins
they started pulling dude triggers and making shooting actions
bang, bang, bang, you're dead they continually shouted in full voice
what can you say or do but hold your sides laughing at sheer idiocy
mind, these are supposed to be civilized aware and woke people
but caught up in group-think and hysteria of herd-mentality
sensibilities had long evaporated leaving delusions
its the clock work minds of fire, shoot, shoot
click, click, no firing pins, no bullets
don't matter, don't matter
bang, bang, you're dead
bang, you're dead
you're dead
bang, bang
haha ha
bang
haha
bang
and
on
on
on
it
goes
hahaha  hahah hahaha
bang bang, you're dead
bang ,bang, bang, bang
I'mo  laughing my *** off
Alan W Jankowski Nov 2011
I want to bang you, bang you strong,
My ****'s so hard, wide and long.
I want to bang you in the night,
Bang you hard with all my might.

I love your scent as you lie in bed,
I love the way you give me head.
With ******* so firm and ***** tight,
I'll bang you hard with all my might.

I'll bang you firm my little one,
Bang you again when I'm done.
Don't try to resist, don't try to fight,
I'll bang you hard with all my might.

It's a special night, a lot in store,
I'll bang you like my little *****.
I'll make you cry, scream and bite,
As I bang you hard with all my might.

04-30-09.
Lol...my first attempt at ****** poetry, and one of my first attempts at poetry actually...this one does have its fans, believe it or not...
Tessa F Mar 2013
BANG
Another heart shattered by broken promises
BANG
One more bone fractured by a life unraveling in alcohol
BANG
A bullet wound from piercing insults and accusations goes untended
BANG
Another nation torn apart by differences and misunderstandings
BANG
The chair slips out from beneath his feet and another broken heart is forgotten
BANG
One more shot of ****** is traveling through her veins like spider webs that suffocate her sorrows
BANG
Another child soldier dragged into battle, bloodied and scarred on the outside as well as within
BANG
Gun violence takes another victim, an irrelevant child sent to the grave
BANG
The familiar sound of all this unjustifiable **** hitting the wall.
The sound of prison gates closing too late.
The sound of a life ended too early.
The sound of another moment lost.
BANG
The only noise capable of encompassing the sight and sound and feeling of "gone"

Who keeps reloading the gun?
pc Oct 2018
MAHAL KITA.
MAHAL KITA, PERIOD.
MAHAL KITA, ALAM MO BA?
MAHAL KITA, PWEDE BA?
MAHAL KITA, K LANG BA?

Oo, Brad. Mahal kita.
Oo. Ikaw ang paksa ng lahat ng mga tulang naisusulat ko.
Oo. Ikaw ang nag-iisang lalaking pumupukaw sa puso ko.
Oo. Ikaw ang tinutukoy ko sa Twitter at Facebook hugot ko.
Oo, Brad. Ikaw ang nasa utak ko ‘pag tinatanong ako sino bang gusto ko.
Oo, Brad. Mahal kita.

Ikaw ang pinagdarasal ko tuwing gabi.
Ikaw ang hinihiniling kong laging makatabi.
Ikaw ang nais kasama sa umaga.
Ikaw ang nais makita pagdilat nang mga mata.
Ikaw lang ang pwedeng tumabi sa akin na humihilik.
Ikaw lang, kahit walang toothbrush, ang pwedeng humalik.

Ikaw lang ang nag-iisa.
Ikaw na nag-iisa.
Ikaw na lahat.
Ikaw na lahat-lahat.
Ikaw sana ang araw-araw.
Ikaw sana sa araw-araw.
IKAW.
OO, IKAW.

Pero huwag kang mag-alala.
Hindi ako magtatangka.
Hindi ako tatawid.
Hinding-hindi ako aamin.
Ni hindi magpapahiwatig.
Ni “ha”, Ni “**”, wala, hindi.
Dahil handa akong mahalin ka ng palihim.
Kahit itawid lahat nang nararamdaman sa dilim.
Alam ko ang tamang lugar para sa akin.
Alam kong ‘di boto si tadhana para sa atin.

Oo. Mahal kita.
Mahal kita pero hindi ako tanga.
HINDI. AKO. TANGA.
Pero mahal na mahal kita.
MAHAL. NA. MAHAL. NA. MAHAL. KITA.
Pero bawal maging tanga.

Dahil alam kong hindi pwedeng maging tayo.
Alam kong malabo.
Alam kong hindi ako.
Alam kong hindi ikaw.
Alam kong hindi kita magiging nobyo.
Alam kong may mga dasal na hindi masasambitan ng oo.
Alam na alam kong hindi magiging tayo.
Alam kong kahit bali-baligtarin ang mundo,
Bali-baligtarin ka, bali-baligtarin ako,
Bali-baligtarin ang ikaw at ang ako,
hindi ka para sa akin at hindi ako para sa iyo.
Alam kong kahit ilang beses kitang hilingin sa Panginoon,
Sasagot Siya paulit-ulit ng, “Hindi pwede, Anak ko.”
“Sorry, Anak, nakalaan siya para sa iba,
Sorry, Anak, hindi siya para sa iyo.”

Pero pagtapos nitong lahat nang nasabi kong ito, teka lang…
Ramdam mo bang mahal kita?
Ramdam mo bang pinapangarap kita?
Ramdam mo bang ikaw ang gusto ko sa araw-araw?
Ramdam mo bang ikaw, ikaw lang talaga?
Ramdam mo bang kinikilig ako sa mga akbay mo?
Ramdam mo bang gusto kitang yakapin?
Ramdam mo bang ikaw yung laging pinapanalangin?
Ramdam mo bang nahihirapan ako kasi kahit may mga oras na gusto kitang yakapin, kailangang pigilan kong pigilan ang sarili?
Ramdam mo bang nahihirapan ako kasi kahit punong-puno na ko nang pagmamahal para sa’yo, kailangan talagang pigilan ang sarili?

Mahirap.
Sadyang mahirap kang mahalin.
Bawal aminin.
Pero pwedeng ilihim.

Ang hapdi kasi hindi mo malalaman.
Ang hirap kasi hindi ko pwedeng ipaalam.
Ang sakit kasi hindi mo mararamdaman.
At ang saklap kasi hindi ko rin pwedeng iparamdam.

Pero kahit ganon, wala namang magbabago.
Mahal pa rin kita kahit mahapdi.
Mahal pa rin kita kahit mahirap.
Mahal pa rin kita kahit masakit.
Mahal pa rin kita kahit masaklap.

Ah, basta. Mahal pa rin kita at mamahalin pa rin kita.

Mamahalin pa rin kita kahit palihim.
Mamahalin pa rin kita kahit bawal aminin.

/pc
I know the title is too generic. This is something I wrote when I was on ER Triage Duty. It was a relatively quiet duty. This was intended to see the light of day as a piece for Spoken Poetry but I don't think I'll ever be able to deliver this due to lack of confidence and time so here it is, in Hello, Poetry. I hope you enjoy it.  This is written in the Filipino language. I am extending my apologies to everyone who cannot understand it because of the language I used. I'm sorry to burst your bubble as well but Google Translate did a very poor translation of this ahuhuhu :(
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2016
.before i come to the food topics, here's a pet peeve... language... how the pakistanis might / might not be offended by the laziness of the english, shortening their denotation to a prefix: ****-... and i'm like... is that really offensive? with the -stani suffix missing? o.k. o.k., iraq: iraqi... iran: iranian... pakistani: ****- / pakistani... so what about afghanistan? afghan, or afghanistani?! i'm pretty sure it's afghan... a person is afghani and not afghanistani... so what's wrong with ****-? it must be an english-****'stani thing from the 1960s or something... ******* as sensitive as french footballers... this has to be hard-pressed... this instance... because i hardly think it's a racial slur to stick to the prefix and not include the suffix, given the example from afghanistan - just like the "problem" of calling a jew a ***-, borrowed prefix from... yiddish! now for the food:

a. would you trust a skinny chef? i know i wouldn't trust a chef who's also a healthy-eating gym bro maniac, i bet he would never cook with lard or pork trimmings, with that calorie calculator lodged up his head that represents an ******* is not much to go with when taste is prime... 6ft1 253.5pounds, that's where i stand... i would never trust a health-freak to cook for me, let alone all the proofs rattling anorexic examples...

    b. "***** take your shoes off and get into the kitchen!" what a ****** joke, chauvanism rampant... mind you... who the hell said that women belong in the kitchen? they don't... i don't want a woman in the kitchen... i've had two dinners cooked by my fwends' mothers when still in my early teens... 1. over-cooked pasta... my fwends father would pretend to eat the dinner, before driving me home while stopping off at a sikh diner and took to the take-away (cooked by men), another example beside the over-cooked pasta? under-cooked spring potatoes - after all... the men on ships and submarines that kept the other men firing did all the cooking... men can cook... or at least: that's the least they should do... think: organic chemistry experiments...

eating a raw herring
in piquant mayonnaise
of reminiscence of a
granny-smith and pickled
cucumber tickle...
slurping it up into
a workout of the oesophagus
might remind many
of oral ***: but after all...
it's only a raw herring being eaten.

p.s. well perhaps gulping down
a raw oyster does feel familiar
to performing oral *** on a woman...
but since you're not really
chewing the oyster,
or licking it... but gulping it whole...
i can only compared performing
oral *** on a ***** to
                eating a raw herring.

            and why all of this talk of food?
well... what's on the menu for tomorrow?
a bangers & mash stew,
    old recipe from the days of the british
empire... mind you: why did they
call sausages bangers back then?
well, during the war, they put a lot of
water into the sausages...
and when water mixes with warm oil?
bang! bang!

                 'i was five and he was six,
   we rode on horses made of sticks,
he wore black and i wore white,
   he would always win the fight...
   bang! bang!
  he shot me down!
  bang! bang!
                 i hit the ground...
bang! bang!
   that awful sound...
bang! bang!
   my baby... shot me down!'
              (audio bullys ft. nancy s.) -

so obviously i had to take a walk
and buy the key ingredient...
   i.p.a.:
        and when they were stationed
in the raj, and the troops were receiving
provisions...
  the standard beer wouldn't last the trip,
going off...
     and dark port was too sweet...
so indian pale ale was invented:
   more potent alcohol content and brewed
based more on hops than barley or wheat...
bitter: but my god, what a strand of beer,
like your typical irish stout...
   which is why i never figured out
  the bud to be the king of beers...
   fermentation of rice? sure... it's crisp...
but also the sort of toddler **** you'd expect
from rice fermentation:
no body, no *****, no blood,
no palette...
      easy stew:
   sausages,
      onions, garlic, celery, carrots,
                  leeks...
     a bottle of i.p.a.,
   some to degrease the pan the sausages
and veg were fried on, the rest for the jacuzzi...
some water, bay leaf, salt to taste,
   tomato purée and 2tbsp
  of muscovado sugar to bite through
   the extra hops... mash on the side...
                  and an array of veg on the side too...

i still don't know where the idea
that women belong in the kitchen came from:
perhaps when the men were coal-miners,
and when the kitchen wasn't filled
with all the current day appliances
of convenience...
   when women worked as hard in the kitchen
as the men who worked in the coal-mine...
perhaps then, in the early part of the 20th
century... when spaghetti dough was hand-made
at home...
then a woman could take pride in her
house-keeping...
   now? now i guess: the same sort of melancholic
voice bound to nancy sinatra singing...
because once upon a time it was hard
work, running the house...
                       and then "suddenly"
everything became simple...
a man could walk into a coal-mine,
come back home and...
              make himself a decent meal...
  looking at what the english woman buy
in the supermarket?
      couch potato maidens...
       ready meal after yet another ready meal...
things have become so easy
that easy isn't enough...

      let me tell you a culinary ***** of a story...
the scurge of making homemade
ravioli! believe me... once a year is enough...
sure, it tastes great...
                  but once a year is enough.
Bo Tansky Mar 2019
When you see, seer
The perfection in it all, bang
You’ve lost a point of view
Then are you utterly alone
Like the clown
All around the three ring
Circus-goers
Laugh at the absurd thing
Never suspecting how utterly profound.
Is the life of a clown.

How many bangs have birthed you then
Imprisoned primordial bangs
Bursting the unsuspecting cosmos
What a long childhood you’ve had,
While god watched
From his bang, bang launch pad
Millions of light years went by
Bang, bang
Billions of light tears he cried
Eventually, bang you appear
After
A lustful specialty bang  
Sped spermful and hopeful
To an ultimate conclusion
Destinies union.
You then,
Orchestrating bang-bang moments of between
Beautiful verdant in bloom bangs
Hang from your spring and summer tree
Of your budding truth
Of your hopeful youth
Time capsuled shutter flutter
Contemplative baby bangs soothing
The Epiphanius bang of instant recognition
Bangs so soft
They're hardly bangs at all
Being more like a soft bubble bursting
A quiescent sound
Infinite in its stillness.
Nothing to forgiveness

Then came
The bangs of the winter of your discontent
Explosive in its silent rage
Shattering the iron of its irony
The rage in its engage
The fury in its fleeing
Blind-sighted by seeing
Justified in its sage rage

Follow the bang gang
Puerile and untouched
In its rarest invisible form
Placated and felted
Velvet experiencer
Must touch.
Must taste
Must be seen
Must be to be to be.

Without the sacrificial lamb
You stand
Alone
Neither prey nor predator
Merely a spectator
To a dictator.
You’ve known all along

And frown at the clown
That was only trying to make you laugh.
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
I heard the footsteps as they came across the road;
The snap of hurried feet outside the house.
Shapes in the moonlight, a voice in the darkness,
A knock at the door, I heard the dogs barking.    
The bleating of the flock,
The chatter of the birds amongst the trees,
I recall the whisper of the morning breeze;
Hyphening the broken silence as two boys stole about the house;
It was midnight in August 99.
Two sparks set out to chase the bang!
Bang! ~ set them running.
I cut them down; I cut them down!
I heard the sirens as the cops sped off the road;
The squeal of hurried wheels outside the house.
shapes in the moonlight, a voice in the darkness,
A knock at the door, I heard the dogs barking.
The bleating of the flock,
The chatter of the birds amongst the trees,
I recall the whisper of the morning breeze;
Hyphening the broken silence as two cops stole about the house;
It was midnight in August 99.
Two cops set out to chase the bang; Bang!
I put my hands up and the cops took me down!

Judge I’m guilty, it’s true for everything they said I did; I did!
But there were reasons, don’t you see:
These boys; they were bullying me!
I called the cops on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, came round again; still no one came; drove me insane;

Two sparks set out to chase the bang!
Bang set them running; I cut them down!
Two cops set out to chase the bang!
Bang! Yes, I put my hands up!
and the cops took me down!

But Mr Wolf gave me twenty,
and the circus came to town;
for as a victim I was lonely;
but as a killer; as a killer; I was crowned.
Newsworthy, top of the heap, the talk of the town!
Here is the song link
https://youtu.be/j9whsrQCaIE
Angel Tomas Sep 2015
Naaalala ko pa ang araw na una kong masilayan ang ngiti sa iyong mukha.
Para bang biglang nagliwanag lahat ng tala sa langit.
Para bang isang eksena sa isang pelikulang patok sa takilya.
Para bang kaya ko atang sumulat ng ilang pahina ng paglalarawan at paghahalintulad nito sa mga bagay na aking hinahangaan.
Para bang bumilis ang pintig ng puso kong matagal nang nakaupo’t nananahimik.
Para bang maraming sumasabog na magagarang kulay sa paligid, sa aking katawan.
Para bang kilala ko ata ‘yung ganitong tagpong naglalaro sa aking isipan.
Para bang alam ko rin ata ang kahihinatnan ng lahat.
Para bang hindi ata sa akin ang matamis na pag kurba ng iyong labi.
Para bang lahat ng ito ay isang pagnanais sa isang pangarap na lipas na.
“Para saan?” Tanong ko. Hindi mawala-wala ang ngiti sa iyong labi.
Para bang nakita kong sinindihan ang aking mundo at panuorin ‘tong gumuho sa harapan ko.

“Para sakanya.” Hindi sa’yo, sa kanya.
Para sa'yo.
Akira Chinen Aug 2018
The fresh new day
of school has come
and for some children
in the days ahead
oh what fun


until...

BANG!BANG!

Your kid is dead
oh why oh why
didn’t we listen
to the dead

why oh why
didn’t we do anything
but think and pray

oh how oh how
didn’t this problem
go away

no more bobby
no more sue
as we throw our hands
in the air again
pretending there is nothing
we can do

but hope and hope
it doesn’t happen
at our kids school

BANG!BANG!

money beats on its drum
while the greedy dance
on the graves
of the futures
they stole away

politicians giving
hollow speeches
while shaking hands
with morticians
who give the dead ones
a pretty smile
and dress them
in their dead days best

and cheat the live ones
of a good education
one plus one is two
and if you
make enough money
you can get away
with ****** too

BANG!BANG!

we watch in
horror and disbelief
at parents stricken
down with grief
because their child’s heart
no longer beats

we just cant believe
its true
surely this didn’t happen

again

at a school

No, no...

I could have sworn
just the other day
I heard my neighbors say
these can of things
DON’T
happen here

my neighbors over there
standing above the grave
of their child
they never imagined
would die this way

BANG!BANG!

the time has come
to teach ourselves
a better solution
than the letting
those with money
control the violence
of the gun
Skyler M Mar 2018
I saw him at the gates,
Wondered why he would forsake,
Time slows down and I'm running,
Running for my life.
He's climbing over,
Gun in hand.
God, oh why God have you forsaken us?

Bang Bang, down goes my friends,
Bang Bang, down goes the educators,
Bang Bang, down at my feet.

Is this where my life ends?
I'm just only seventeen,
Where will I go when I die?
He's coming for us all,
Ak-47 in his hands.
God, oh why God have you forsaken us?

Bang Bang, down goes my friends,
Bang Bang, down goes the educators,
Bang Bang, down at my feet.

He's at the door.
Am I no more?
I can't see my own two hands.
Tears on my face.
.
.
.
God?
I think it's pretty clear what this is trying to portray. As someone who is a year younger than the character, I can tell you that this is a huge fear when I walk to school everyday. I could die. It's a fact...but...what I'm scared of is the gun. not the man.
Fee Berry Feb 2018
I remember childhood panic
My sister as a cowboy
Chasing around the garden
Bang bang, you're dead

I remember that fear today
Weeping over other people's children
Imagining their pain
Bang bang, they're dead

I want to comfort them
But there is nothing to say
Nothing to do, nothing changes
Bang bang, we're dead

Guns don't **** people, they say
People **** people, they say
But, see, they make it easy
Bang bang, they're dead
24.7.2011/8.2.2018 Fee
I started this poem after the massacre in Norway, but it was too painful then to complete.  So it was started 24.7.11 and completed 8.2.18

— The End —