"bono" poems
---
On February 15
a congressman
went out for to ski
never did return that day
he died "hitting a tree"
There was much
blunt force trauma
to the front of his head
elect of California legislature
now Sonny Bono's DEAD
- CHORUS -
Who murdered Sonny Bono?
How did that man die?
Was it all a "ski accident"
or is that just a lie?
Did he have information
of government high ups?
Laundering money for
drugs and guns
doin' things corrupt?
There is an old story
and you know it's true
The Kennedy's were
conspired against
and now Sonny, too.
---
Blunt force trauma
to the skull
but no broken ribs or knees
and no counter coup
to the brain
you don't need an MD
No coroner to tell you
somethin's fishy there
and the back of Sonny's jacket
**had a tell tale tear**
- CHORUS -
You won't see this on TV
It won't be in the news
all the links have been shut down
They have too much to loose
There's only one who's
brave enough
to convey this, you see
and he has had
attempts on his life
for telling you and me
- CHORUS -
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Gabby Abrego
I'll never let you go go
unless we go to Mexico
and you be come a hobo!
Then I'll go.
and fetch the so co.
so we can dance to disco
eat enchiladas with adobo
pick the **** out of our Afros!
We'll feel so funky,
the people will get spunky
when we arrive on donkeys,
and ride around their towns!
We'll befriend all the junkies
and give them howler monkeys,
it'll be so funny
we'll laugh until you cry!
Ohh! Gabby Abrego I'll never let you go go
unless I get you prego
then I'll run like mad!
cuz if we had a baby
I'd stop being lazy
get as famous as THE LADY
support you like Eminem did for his baby.
So Never Ever leave me
Or I'll succumb to Scientology
and go even more crazy
my world'd become a mystery.
I'd rather be a rhino
rather be tricked into a *****
rather be married to Bono
in a movie starring J.Lo
be forced to live with Yoko Ono
have red eyes like an albino
than to ever be with out
Gabby Abrego!!!
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 1:01 AM UTC
John Lennon
Can you imagine the world if he wasn’t shot?
Do you think his believers will finally see
The bullshitting hypocrite behind all that peace?
“All you need is love” sang by a guy
Who went out of his way to be cruel to his wife
Used to ***** about his dad doing the disappearing act
Until he did it himself, the silly ****
“Imagine no possessions”
Bold words from a guy who had a lot of obsessions
“Love is real, real is love”
Says the guy who’d rather have two lovers at once
His best hits was with the Fab Four
His solo hits are like seesaws
Yoko Ono had some hits
By him, behind closed doors she took it
Some people see him as some sort of Jesus
But truth is, he was politically clueless
The egotistical, ignorant little poseur
Who’d rather stay in bed until it’s all over
Did he change the world? Did he ****
Nothing but a demigod, high in everyone’s mind
I’m really glad he died in his prime
Just wished that ****** Bono was next in line
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 8:00 PM UTC
my favourite song is sail to the moon live by radiohead and when he replied that it was his as well I was overwhelmed
we layed together and let the haunting phonics echo through your room
uninterrupted
I pressed my head to your chest and let your heart beat sync with the sound
two days later you told me you loved me and I was astounded when I heard the same words fall from my lips
I fell asleep listening to radiohead my head on the pillow and my heart in your hands
everyone warns you about heartbreak
They say that young love never lasts
and while they may be right I ask
Myself why I was never warned of the danger of a different kind of fracture
You broke my taste in music you ****
Teenage relationships don't generally end in divorces but the forces were at play and it ended anyway
Nobody worries about who walks away with the songs you've loved since childhood
Like Bono was my dude but you loved Beautiful Day so now we're not on good terms
Like Real People Do was the jam but you ruined it man
Why did I have to talk to you about music,
Janis Joplin, was poppin and Bob Dylan was killin but I told you all about it and now I'm not about it
the opening bars of sail to the moon rip me in open
and while we didnt have children I'm the short amount of time that we were living
In each other's embrace
music was our offspring and someone should have warned me about this thing where you aren't supposed to overshare
and though I have many questions about why it ended, why it's still going on, the biggest are why I told you my favourite song
and after the pseudo divorce
Who the hell gets custody of radiohead??
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
Walking to work, I saw Joan Rivers
Blowing me a kiss today
Through a store window on Indian
With that smirk you can't mistake
I crossed on Tahquitz Canyon drive,
Said "hi" to Lucille Ball,
and passed a smiling Elvis Presley,
rested against the Welwood wall.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
On a fountain's edge across the street,
Sits a grinning Sonny Bono,
and just north of there you'll find 26 feet
of Marilyn Monroe shadow.
and Frank Sinatra's voice is still heard
Crooning through the air at night,
while here forevermore at the El Mirador,
you'll find the pensive eyes of Albert Einstein.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
When the stars die,
they might fall from the sky,
but they never truly disappear
cuz you'll always find them here.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
Bare naked ladies and Lenin following an age of Aquarius idiosyncrasy
shitshow
I don't want to know no white album
I'm working my way towards the black album
Cause Alicia Keys can resonate in many keys ...
... Says Dylan in his Chonicles
--> my authenticity lies in the between
620 nm or is it 770 nm
Whatever, it's a sliding scale, a slippery slope, is what I use to shed my skin
Follow the pheromones, or the Ramones, says Bono and the Edge
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
All these words, the words and the w.w.w.
Computer breakdowns and a broken heart.
Taxes, thanksgiving and the mortgage.
Heaven or hell and to be boiled alive.
The prodigal son and Karl Lagerfeld.
Being born and wearing diapers.
Getting old and wearing diapers.
Boring music, boring Bono and Björk.
Too much fat and blood cloths.
TV, the news and all of the idiots.
Children dieing of hunger and thirst.
To be absolutely human and gonorrhea.
The first, second and this world war.
Charging batteries and clean teeth's.
***** thoughts and smelly feet's.
Gravity and Einstein's theory.
************ fornication and Celine Dion.
Commercials and more stupidity.
God and the devil up my ***
Love or hate all up the same way.
Sensitive art and sensitive poetry - oh so.
Diamonds, fur coat and champagne.
More music and gadgets I can't live without.
Plane crashes and earthquakes.
Getting dressed and have a haircut.
McDonalds stinking burgers.
Burger Kings stinking pomme frites.
The apocalypse and Tom Cruise.
Cold lips and cold hands.
Crash course for the ravers.
All the virgins up in heaven.
America got talent.
Nothing to worry about.
Not even when I'm dead.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
I'll write and say same words I've said
ten thousand times before
Until I don't believe
that I believe them anymore
Because riding on this carousel
means spinning one's wheels
into moist ground
thought I had some traction
but it seems I thought too soon--
So I am off of the rails
Off the wagon. Off to nowhere.
'Cuz it's, "Onward, lads,
to one more night spent
covering ground's familiar footsteps
and sheeting snowy sidewalks
in the dollars we don't have."
And we'll lay 'em kinda thick
press our prints in Presidents
pro bono comes advice
from the corners we can't heed,
but por argento comes the cure
we choose to **** our heads with
I'll pick a place, polish my boots
get far as my front steps
where I'll sit until the summer rolls around
and sweat rolls down in sheets
Short sheeted best hopes,
shortened thank-you notes
and lists of ****** quotes
lay around and resonate
on floors and facebooks,
tabletops
in summertime,
when it rolls around
But, now, it's winter
and we're all 364 1/4 resolutions older
--at 33 revolutions per minute,
and 16 ounces at a time,
we can almost cope.
Now, it's winter and the sheets are
still too warm
Now, it's winter and we sheet the
snowy sidewalks
in Presidential faces
in the dollars we don't have
and the cure we **** our heads with
keeps us safely insane
'Cuz in a world built by psychopaths,
the sane don't always last.
And, if I'm the last one out?
I'll sing a song and **** the lights before I go.
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
In this Cathedral you are a god,
this outdoor arena beneath a blood red sky.
You stand above a sea of melted faces
with arms outstretched and upturned
as reticent as a rood.
When the stage goes dark the beat begins
and you are one of us the wounded and resolute,
you lead us into songs of hope and redemption,
replacing silence with words of truth.
Truth as redolent as barb laden roses,
and just as difficult to hold.
A Savior that bled
the moon turning red
the darkness of night
the black of the white
the white gold and pearls
the mysterious twirls
your deepest desires
the trip through her wires
A house not a home
the scars on the stones
your horses in flight
the drums in the night
the **** of a gun
the glare of the sun
the un-deserved grace
the dust cloud erased
You sell what you sing like a preacher in pain
We hold on tightly until we bleed
In this Cathedral you are a god
Jun 24, 2011
Jun 24, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
i guess you don't own the world
china owns a big lump of the world
and a good slice of the us too
bill gates and warren buffett
got a lot of coins in the pocket
but not enough to own the world
the insurance companies
the banks the russian mafia
fannie mae or freddie mac
bono acts like he owns the world
berlusconi i guess, surely would like to
what about the pope or the big news
mcdonald or the duck donald duck's uncle
would be a disaster if they owned the world
big waddling gluttons goes quack, quack, quack
and father disney behind it all is dead
so who is left to suppose to own the world
the prince of dubai or me?
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 9:08 AM UTC
"everything in the cosmos was going to be drawn into the poem,
nothing must to be laughed at because it was already laughing,
nothing was too serious because it was already grieving,
the ache and the flirtation,
all this range,
this massive Spectrum ,
what a...what a thrill"
Bono
on Allen Ginsburg, Poet
<*>
gotta tell ya,
every time I read this
quote,
two things happen:
get a headache and must
lie/lay down
and no. 2,
people who took a lotta drugs
write pretty good poems and songs
so where did I go wrong?
Jun 7, 2025
Jun 7, 2025 at 11:43 PM UTC
Revised version of a note that I was able to write after sharing beer with a friend and learning about her story. The topic came up because U2's With or Without You started showing on Channel V and she told us the song was playing when they were, finally, going their separate ways.
This note is for 9 years, for a marriage then for zilch, and for anyone who has lost a marriage.
And to you, my friend: life is still good.
Nothing could have been
more apt
than Bono singing who
he couldn't live with,
or without.
After domestic trials
and errors, we
were telling each other,
that hereafter
I shouldn't live with
or without you either.
Nine, it's a magic number,
to count the years we had been
together.
Two, was you and me,
reduced
to me and she.
We were,
just you and I,
bound
by papers signed.
We share,
a last name I
can no longer make use of.
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 11:43 PM UTC
I used to listen to Winehouse in the greenhouse and the windows cried in pain.
I had Gillespie in the conservatory and Kitt in the kitchen, but I saved Brenda Lee for the bedroom see 'cause she was the queen.
I had them all running recordings in my head, Dave Dee, Fats Domino, Bono, Callas for a touch of class, Des and Bygraves, slaves to the sound spinning around in my mind and now I can't find a song that's familiar, can't make out the words, don't know the artists, missed out along the tracks, no vinyls, no needles, no tables just racks of CD's
oh please tell me it isn't so
this can't be the way to go,
where's Slim and Kim and Marty gonna go now that the party is over?
In the greenhouse where I listened to Winehouse and watched the pickup pick up the beat,
I take a back seat and eat a tomato while nothing else is going on.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
a bit faded, i cruise through loose threads in my argument.
i recoil from dimwits that flip wigs and false coin.
i join the null set of lost clubs on main street, discreetly -
but strut like a peacock in leather feathers,
for non -boys...
so many
girls.
i'm in two worlds,
but **** if she don't fit in, pro bono.
she knows what i don't know, like a book spout of lovely.
my bones lend juice to the stew of her gifts, when she'll have me.
but luck gets cut and what not, and better fellas
rob joy from so
many worlds
they're Cuckoo.
i snip pearls
for this
one.
my intentions are
sincere
if not
see-through.
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
"Bad"
"'Bad' is just a huge promise of a song. A friend of mine, about as close as you can get, squandered his intelligence and his gifts to ****** Dublin in the late Seventies and early Eighties was a capital for smack. The Shah of Iran had been deposed, and people smuggled their money out of that country in white gold and pearls, by which I mean ****** It was cheaper than **** it was cheaper than smoking spliff, and a lot of sweet teenage kids, who just liked to smoke a little bit of ***** were offered this cheap high, something beyond their imagination... I tried to describe that with the song, 'Bad, what it was to feel that rush, to feel that elation, and then go on to the nod, awful sleep that comes with that drug..." - Bono, U2 By U2 2006
If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, yes I would
If I could, I would let it go
Surrender, dislocate
If I could throw this lifeless
Lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay
See you walk, walk away
Into the night
And through the rain
Into the half-light
And through the flame
If I could, through myself
Set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light
And to the day
To let it go
And so to find a way
To let it go
And so find a way
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no, no
If you should ask, then maybe
They'd tell you what I would say
True colours fly in blue and black
Blue silken sky and burning flag
Colours crash, collide in blood shot eyes
If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would let it go
This desparation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Let it go
And so to find a way
To let it go
And so find a way
Oh, no
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no no
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
And at my new job I am the manager-in-training.
In French it is
“Responsable en formation”
Or as I would say,
Responsible information.
However, I was not responsible in gathering my information.
During my interview, I said masseuse.
Turns out that is heavily connotated and maybe even denotated as a *** word.
I asked if it was the French ending
He said, “No, it’s the happy ending”
Maybe French is only **** because of how much is escapes me.
The opposite reason is why death was never **** to me
because of how much I escaped it
Maybe death finds
Me
****
And Anyway I got the job
And a month later my boss gave to me a T-shirt that said
your table is ready
At first,
Instead of a massage table,
I thought it was a stretcher
And I laughed
I wonder what that means
“You could have died” “you almost died” “it’s a miracle you’re still here”
“we’re /glad/ you’re still here”
Are words I often hear from my doctors
who almost always meet with me pro bono because I am poor, but also interesting
Medically
But they are not words I hear from my mother
Those are the words she saves to give to her 90-something mother-in-law
I say 90-something not because I am careless or inattentive, but because my grandmother Adeline lied about her age so often in her youth, that both she and the government forgot her actual age
The words my mother gives to grandma J upset her.
She is tired of living
Asked all of us to pray for her death
Asked my brother in law to be “to help her get to heaven tonight”
Said “I know you can help me get to heaven tonight” presumably because he works for the cook county coroner's office.
He is a man so jaded that he sometimes can only laugh on the job when he sees particularly trite Chicago suicide notes:
To be fair, he’s not cruel
It is usually when it is something
Like
“you either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain”
Anyway, it made him cry when old Addie asked that
and also if you are a prayer person,
please pray for her death,
I can’t bring myself to do it.
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 5:14 PM UTC
Mr. Diamond.
Mr. Gold.
Mr. Dotcom.
Mr. Hole.
Mr. Bono.
Mr. *****
Mr. Sunny.
Mr. Bold.
Mr. President.
Mr. Holy Ghost.
Mr. Love.
Mr. Old.
Mr. Dirt.
Mr. Clean.
Mr. Control.
Mr. *******
Mr. ****
Mr. Money.
Mr. Life.
Mr. Death.
Mr. Known.
Mr. Sells.
Mr. Hell.
Mr. go away!
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 6:14 AM UTC
I'm what's better known as a versatile utility singer. I can sing backing, middle and up front too. I do a cracking JDB on particular songs and I say particular as the rest of his exquisite collection of songs goes into top gear and are very hard to drive in particular at fast top speed and with power of voice.
Bono to Boy George Keane to O'Reily its Do they know its christmas with Holly Johnson!
I was everywhere always on the move driving it on as long as I could start when I want to and finish when I want too!
I don't know if you recall when I was a little dut at all, I got up and sung Silent Night in primary school in front of the whole class like Aled Jones eating a quaver.
Even back then it became override peculiar like a sandwich in a cake!
On your own performing courage of a christmas carol only one verse long.
I loved the sound of school the playground was awesome and cool,
A place to hang out and carry out your hobbies of football until that horrid bell rang or latter due to modern technology of a whistle which became the brain wash sound form of musical statues and then quickly line.
It was somehow meant to be that I would become later in life a utility retired singer, driver and even a writer on the side, in good old O'Reily fashion of an own goal.
Side on face on come on! The roads are paved with gold or a cut throat final signature tune on a silent night over looking the horizon and into a bar going up and then down with each empty glass fortune.
Learn, work and school life as in no sooner along comes a wife, a chain reaction next to your comment hence a full stop.
O'Reily 27102014
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
Budapest
A Poem by Corset
Eucalyptus
Push me in,
be as tall.
No one out there
is going to sing
pro bono.
Slow down
and
look at where
it's at.
One is fast
and more dangerous
ask her...
Turns out a mixed nut in the right cup.
Clean out the closet,
polish all those pretty bones
bleach them white
as a faded memory
unlike
Budapest,
who gnaws
the edges,
but never lay down
your pen.
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 12:52 PM UTC
/*\for you, the she,
a precious jewel that comes in many
colors, including melanc~holy
<>
who dipped her toe unaware the ***
grows ever hotter with every stirring and the
carnal charnel
nature of
a light
perusal,
a quick wick once-over, a scan, nothing
but just a light, slight, of a
finger~to~lips~tasting/*\
where -poem scripts
lie easy buried
neath a bare
minimum of
1 inch of soil
<>
not the meaning you instinctively assumed,
after years of misunderstooding
of the use-all of
perusal
Mademoiselle Usage,
a mis~usage|
the realizable danger of perusal is in its true meaning.
not in a brief but glorious askance,
but the deep dive
into where the deep sea trench creatures be living,
where the nuance and the sea weeds brocades
the casual
visitor's
perusal,
and the urgency of living on the edge,
of ulterior motives apprised and appraised,
are sensing not,
the dangers consequential,
and down~into~the~rabbit whole
inevitably you encounter,
A man!poet mumbling on & on;
there is no such thing as respite,
the tears of the heart sees their swelling,
no pro bono 4 ply tissue is enough to
well **** arresting their continuity of their
welling,
writ not in cryptic notation,
all mine is there for plentiful plain,
not,
for excavation interpretation, exegetical heretical,
up until the
line of palpable,^
flashes the multi~mesmerizing^
yellow and red warning lines hysterical,
here is where
when in my depths,
you swim
or
flee
next question, please?
Oct 10, 2025
Oct 10, 2025 at 11:51 AM UTC
in my nursing home room within these carpeted halls,who do you see? probably a sharp tongued old woman with polident kept dentures, a white mane of unruly hair,thick ankles in short socks vein lined legs, a portly shaped body draped in a cotton patterned nightgown covering a depends.pictures on the wall of old memories,with alife slowly heading to a closing chapter. but I see a young girl of twenty three holding the arm of a world war two soldier,standing with me before the altar exchanging vows.the hospital picture with my nursing first born son of six sons.a house on holidays filled with bubbling laughter, and welcome toasts with a bountiful food table. a granddaughter who finished at the top of her class ready to defend those falsely accused pro bono. a picture of myself before marriage dancing a first ballet.i see your youth, you see my worn down old age. I hear you speak of far away vacations,that my body and limited funds cannot take. you see a world ripe with opportunies, I see bedbaths, a bag of waste to change,family members rarely seen . you see the hands on the wall clock not spinning fast enough for check out and the party awaiting. now in these final moments I see what you can't see,angels coming in bursts of bright light and golden wings, to bear me away from this painful suffering life.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
You're a cat and I'm a squirrel,
Looking for a nut in all the wrong;
Places - cause what's a fella doing in a barrel;
Shooting fish with a nickel and a song,
Those are dime a dozen and I've got a dollar;
For the jukebox to make you dance,
Because with you I want romance;
Not sport a tag and a brand new collar,
But am I really reaching far?
Aren't you down to earth?
I never wished upon a star,
Because I've always had in me mirth;
Always knew I would meet you,
But I'm not me anymore;
Thought I needed but I really want so much more,
Than long walks by the sea shore and beaches too;
I'm dying inside from jealousy and doubts,
Want to throw a fit and shout;
Never had these feelings before,
They unsettle me to the core;
You've struck a chord,
And I no longer wish to strum my solo;
This guitar has sliced my fingers like a sword,
Yet I still am humming my wretched tune; pro bono;
But I must let go of you and your truthful lies,
I hope to forget the memory of your amber eyes...
© okpoet
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 2:30 AM UTC
The bowels of Hell descended
Pink sock rolled out distended
Dropped Bono off after the lapse
Wheezing out remnants of latent gas
That **** had its own movement
One making a dismal improvement
Let loose a hellish ****
A cavernous ****** housing a catcher’s mitt
The runny bile formed in place
Birthing music’s great disgrace
Mrs. Miley popped her molly
And passed out watching Wall-E
Woke up in a mound of stool
There in place stood a tool
Aligned talent with ******** pagans
Pounding drums, the lead singer of Imagine Dragons
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
“I am Going to Call for a Major Investigation…”
-Our Red Queen on Truth [sic] Social
In Wonderland a new oppressive conjuration -
His name is Major Investigation
Sent at our screaming queen’s instigation
To drag us all down to her police station
Beginning with Kamala, Oprah, and Bono
For somewhat disapproving of him – oh, no!
The Major will punish their laissez-majesto -
In the name of freedom their heads must go!
(But of course the irony in all this biz
Is that their heads are even larger than his)
May 19, 2025
May 19, 2025 at 9:26 AM UTC