"chromed" poems
born in the artic snow
she chromed
her heart
in steel
flames could
not
touch that heart
always a half a step ahead
sure
a few stumbles
but never a fall
and moonlight is just
a heartache in disquise
till one day
leaning out a car window
a scar upon his cheek
and the luck of the draw
was the jack of hearts
and the queen of diamonds
had
never met
anyone
quite like
the jack
of hearts,
black-haired blue-eyed
her beauty inspired
stupid men
to commit foolish acts
and as he smiled
the queen of diamonds
thought she had
the jack of hearts,
blue sky shimmering
in her eyes
jack became
the brightness
of her day
and the jack of hearts
saw a flame
flickering in her eyes
that he had never seen
in any women's eyes
before ...
act. 2
... a strange destiny
was unraveling
and one long poker hand
was over
and the snowflakes came
down like ashes
under the street light
and then
the jack of hearts
walked away
a pale spirit fleeing
a graveyard
into the wall of night
and the queen of diamonds
cried
the sea into sky
with eyes
like twilight
waiting
to eat away the day
Mar 16, 2022
Mar 16, 2022 at 2:39 PM UTC
Im the hardest to Hit
Since Tupac *******
On Killuminati
Somebody pass me the 12 guage shotti
Now feel these slugs hit yo body
Enemies bleed indeed love for greed
Feeds a ***** soul
Since theres no rest for the wickedness
Evilness is an imperative of mankind
Pack a chromed .45 and a black .9
As thoughts began to unravel from my mind
lookin' for adversaries to put
on flat lines
Middle finger to one time
I pull down my pants
so them ******* can **** my ****
NOW WHOS THE REAL TRICK?
im reachin' through souls
Of young boys n girls
They hate me cuz the way i swirl
Money with my two middle fingers to the world
Have no fear cuz the Lord is here
In flesh he puttin' me through a test
For my heart
Battlin' tactics im growin' frantic
Never see me panic
Now you punk *** critics show me yo heart
Puttin' rounds in yo chest
Now ya dearly depart
No sorrow from me on a mission
Hittin' yo number one charts
With this **** ****
my ****** feel this from East to West Coast
Though I'm From the South i still
Love to boast
Makin' a ghetto toast
To the real
Got every heart in the burbs to slums
Packin' steel
No time to back downs soon ill be holdin' the crown
Mild scars from breakin' the slaveryyy
Wither its reason or rhyme to crime and strife
We embracin' that **** life!!!
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 7:47 AM UTC
Fat blats fill the humid, night air
Chromed up machines ride tonight
Leather clad bodies with slick lines
Long legged, lean ladies rev their smiles
Black lined lips glossed smooth with red
Blood red fingertips scratch their pleasure
Nails run races up the backs
Smirked smiles know where they long to flit
Lip curling snarls as shivers run out
Sloe eyed partners strut by the line
Flicking their tails like bashful does
Paired up pretties ride out in squeals
Tires spin flashing through the lamp light
Paired up pretties hang tight tonight
cc1210
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 4:04 PM UTC
A boy he was
Long, long ago
As he glided into the chromed and teal druggist shop
1950s it was
Vintage years
Women in pert dresses
Men in sharp taupe suits
Filled the shop with a smoky manner
On that summer Sunday afternoon
Fan bladed just a-turnin'
Right through time itself
He saw this box before
Jeweled, valuable big music box
Been here not too long
Breathing in a flavored breath
He saw another it
The black round of pure bliss
"Blue Suede Shoes" by Elvis Presley
The white letterin' said
Letter G
Number 4
Hands ***** cold metal from warm pockets
Slipping them into the maiden's shelter
Fingers to buttons,
Arm to record
Music to shop
"Well, it's one for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to get ready,
Now go, cat, go."
Floated in mass commodity
Away the ears and mind blew in the wind
Far from his hometown
Far from his school
And far from everything he already knew...
Daydream ended too soon for his comfort
The boy stared at the flashy box
And spoke a quiet goodbye
Tile guided him out the ringing door
Concrete guided him home
Where now the older him
Lives crooked, but happy
With a dear old woman who loves him more than anything else
And a jukebox
With many records in it
But one is still on top
"Blue Suede Shoes" by Elvis Presley
In chipped, faded lettering
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
fairest maiden watcher of the skieswhile I wrote this I was so highon that tropical grass that knocks you on your assoh phisher of the skies and creator of alibisgive me a simile to communicate the feelings I need to say. It’s the mushroom tea, the pint of lean, and all this **** that keeps recalling the collective unconscious of my childhood memoriesand it makes me see the path in front of me and the relationships that made me what I am. A man that can’t be soberdue to the decisions I’ve made latelyits plain to see that this ecstasy has made me quite stupid.its like a mountain breeze that moves through youlike the good vibrations humans create while love makingyou waltz across my mindo’ keeper of timeascending towards the stratosphere you glidegently back to earth to find a pipe loaded just right packed fat and wide as SPM’s chromed our spinnersplatinum grill and plasma screens fallin’ I dream for serendipity to overcome me while im covered in your ecstasy
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 10:09 AM UTC
Part I
They say death comes in threes
I say pain is apart of reality
Looking at my homies
On the block guzzin' forties
And toting a glocks
On the look out for flaks and punk *** cop
****** ain't no stranger
Nothing but danger
Where I'm from deep in the slums
Ya find killers to drug dealers
Hoes and hoochie quick to give up the *******
They try to throw something to eat
But I don't bite I just watch and write
About the real.shit I see and feel
Keep my pistol concealed
So when my enemies lurkin' me
The last thing they gone see
Is a nice chromed nine shined
Blind Cuz I catch em off guard
Turned there vehicles into an open casket yea I'm drastic
I hate to see my own in plastic
But I gotta do what I gotta do
Its the life of a **** brotha
My heart has no fill so i feel no pain
Razor in my teeth herringbone as a neck chains
Made of gold times is growing old
Friends turn to foes
Looking for me but can't find me
Even though I'm right in front of me
Once im.in the dark I gather my best thoughts searchin for peace
In many ways
Hopin' for better dayz
Part II
And to all.my homies doing time
Hold ya head high to the sky
Cuz we know half of ya serving is a lie
Hard to support family
When ya sittin' in the penitentiary
society is a flim flam
Got **** how many brothers they gone lock up ?
The ***** *** system been corrupt no abrupt
After brothers the color of me
But if I **** another like me
I get praises silently from white society
And they won't care
If ya poor and on ya last dime
And do a crime
Not for the love of it
But to support his broken family
But media labels ya a culprit
Dangerous and the biggest threats
Are our cops letting the drugs drop
in the first place Miss the case
**** the judge They all gotta grudge
Against skin colored like me
I ain't a suckas I'm the black machavielli
In time I will rise no need to open my eyes
Cuz my third eye vigilant
Soon to be a retaliation for all the incarceration for scorning Black nation
Comin' with me violently we moving silently
With our clenched fist raised
Eradicatin' evil
Searchin' for better days
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
Can we talk?
She said "Sure, give me a minute"
Wait a few seconds, that minute turned to ten,
Now one hour later,
She was ready to begin?
"What do you want to talk about?"
she yelled from
across the room.
Silence, I was sleeping.
But just then, she was about to hear the boom
So.......
She came at me like a wartime poet,
dropping bombs on my head like
I didn't even know it,
Ripped holes in my shirt
and I couldn't even sew it.
She busted rhymes in my mind
even CeLo couldn't own it.
Words flying so fast,
I coulda swore they were stolen.
She moved one step closer
and boom, I was falling.
Each time my mouth opened
I couldn't even answer,
Each word that I stut t t tered was
like lyrical cancer.
I ran around the room like
a Soul Train dancer.
Side stepping her questions
like I was her little **** prancer.
**** you, *****
my words just got a little fancier.
Whoah!
"Who do you think you are,
are you done spitting it yet??"
You began this little battle,
but I'll be the one finishing it.
My words are louder than gunshots
Cuz, I'll be the one killing it.
I'll just turn my *** around
Cuz you'd be the
one kissing it.
This is only the beginning,
and I'm not finished dishing it
Shhhhit!!
She just broke in with a loud
"OH!! YOU DONE YOUR TIME"
So you can get on outta here with those wasted lyrics,
stupid rap, and busted rhymes.
This is my house, boy,
and you ain't living off this welfare dime.
Now, go cheat with some other hoes
and sip on their Boone's Farm strawberry wine.
Oh and one more thing, you might
want to call 9-1-1,
Cuz I am about to commit
****** on your *** and a misdemeanor crime.
See you were nothing to me
but my little, poor "boy toy"
and when I say "little" ..it wasn't
very much of joy joy.
The only time I got real excited and wet
was when you were walking out
my front door, door.
So, now carry your sorry ***
on over to your ex's house
cuz she was the real effin' ***** *****
Oh, that 65" flat screen is mine, so is that X-Box,
touch one more god **** thing in here or I'll
double tap your ***
with the pair of my triple chromed 9mm hollow point custom made Hello Kitty Glocks.
Your time is up,
so say good bye once and for all
count it 1, 2, 3 or I'll punch your ******* clock.
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
When the raps are givin'
Lyrically by me
I'll leave ya head spinnin'
Like a disco ball
Haters on the gall
But all I do is make one phone call
I got homies to hoes pack 44s
Check the iced chromed door
Of jeep four by four
Ya sweet as a nectarine
When I hit the scene
I turn ****** skin green
Brooklyn bounce more to the ounce
The drunker I get
The harder I hit
The more some ones bound for a casket
No remorse check the source
I was credited before I was edited
The Black Capone
I'm raps chaperone its my love jones
Me and my ***** my gun
Close like lelo and stitch
Got multiple attitude so I'm rude switch
Personalities
So nobody can keep a tally on me
Its me the big the biggest competitor
Leave ya competition in sweaters
Cuz I'm cold as anartica
Glocks stay blazin' hot than africa
Bomb flows like Boston massacre
Who asking ya?
About me the only yosef mos def
With the mathematics statics
I crash it if ya show y'ass? I'll cash it
Put you on the corner
Reckless ruthless as Ike to Tina Turner
Embrace the dread **** the feds
Still taking my daily bread
Born sinner this is the philosophy of a winner
Ya unknown like Brian Skinner
Thinner ya need up ya weight son
Cuz ya falling lame son uh the don
Back to set the record straight
If ya gotta problem I'll.make ya death date
U see me I see u
Bullets hit ya temple now ya in ICU
Cuz I'm young witty and nasty and clean
Saw ya fuckin' head off if ya know what I mean??
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
in a dead street
a cat owl bleeds
its mind effused
with images
of music
and the songs
that would alter
pocket thought
it hears the echo
of a buckled sculptor
a blue and chromed car
that loots its understanding
leaves it warped
while autonomous ideas
flow in prophetic vision
as it moves between
life and death
a volitional freedom
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 5:12 PM UTC
we met once
a brief exchange
are you a confection?
you so blond, silken
soft green eyes
you move like music
skin like milk
a smile like an invitation to the love boat
swimming pool after hours
admit two
your dangerous to a man like me
even superman has his weakness
beauty is your weapon
my kryptonite
you pulled the trigger with your countenance
one in the heart, the other right between the legs
i use to feel like electrical colored sherbet
and now im nothing but a mono-chromed grunt
only able to speak in nouns
just an ugly plant
im on the ground
if you took a moment
to console, to hold, to kiss
id feel better for a moment
and then start to shake apart all over again
i want you like heroine
addicted addicted addicted
your glance an entrancement
with it you can send me to heaven or hell
am i in trouble?
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 4:14 PM UTC
if I were to have a favorite
pick-your-own end of the world
ending it wouldn't be
solemn grey or
chromed out.
I have burnt off
my fingerprints
for money,
so what else
would I do for money except utilize
intelligence, always seeming artificial.
i don't like how you image it,
i just want to hand you the woman in
sunburst shorts, wearing an alien mask &
walking a catahoula hound.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 9:38 AM UTC
THE ROBOT SAYS GO
The robot says STOP!
And the chromed steeds align, champing, their reeking tails
caked in ferrous reminders of asphalt and steam.
Still that bright ruby glares.
White-knuckled jockeys, feigning repose, swap dat ol’ faux decorum.
But nobody’s fooling anybody.
Halogen eyes framing high cursive grilles.
Round rubber hooves hugging silvery seals.
Glass-encased egos, too streetwise to dream,
jack shoulders to lobes for a shared primal scream…
Veins race across foreheads, eyes tear up the road.
And just when it looks like those veins will explode—
The robot says go! The robot says go! The robot says go! The robot says go!
The Emerald looms, the frenzy resumes:
Alpha males ****** the old and infirm,
their eight-banger fumes blurring laggers in plumes.
Jocks in jalopies thread rivals and worm
their misshapen monsters round planters in flumes.
Past loads wide and listing—and back in the fray!
Harrowing, narrowing, the pack makes its way,
to one more agenda, two downshifts away, where nearing,
where rearing…appearing like some kind of god in the flow,
this robot says…
slow.
Brief as bliss, blind as bluff,
that amber eye opens, (not quickly enough).
The lead runners race, redoubling their pace!
—rolling dem bones, refusing to place,
hurling their monoliths all but atop
pedestrian puppets who, horrified, hop,
leaping like bugs till the robot says
STOP!
And thus realigned, still fuming in kind,
the new leaders gnaw on their dashes and wheels.
Damning the wire, their backsides on fire,
nerves shooting pins through their palms and their heels,
the gentleman’s juggernaut takes aim and steels.
Eyeballs near bursting revile the stop—
And just when it looks like those eyeballs will pop…
The robot says go! The robot says go! The robot says go! The robot says go!
Copyright 2019
contact Ron Sanders at:
ronsandersartofprose(at)yahoo(dot)com
Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 8:02 PM UTC
She celebrated her funeral
Getting wet in the raindrops.
The wounded moths coloured
Her eye lashes red.
The monochromes of
Her own shadow
Clamped her legs in the black sky,
As she tried to fly once again.
Her shadow stood behind her,
Saying, "So even you can dream! "
She shook her head knowing
There's no escape this time.
She smiled as tears rolled down her eyes
When her shadow stabbed her,
Saying, "How dare you dream again! "
Her black blood splattered all over her body,
As she kept smiling palely
Turning her surrounding
Into a combination of binary colours
Of black and white.
She looked up for the last time,
To the little cyan
At the corner of the sky
Which was yet to be mono chromed.
And,
She fell on her knees
For the last time
Releasing every last piece
Of her soul.
And, she understood,
"Death
Is
Cruel
And
Healing
At the same time"
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 12:48 PM UTC
i just read your poem Anne
about your desolated masturbations
after you fell through
into that atomized monoxide
dream of pantomimes glittering
vague shapes and black holes
where slumber sinks
and silence rolls
we couldn't follow
you into your
receding suicide labyrinth
of timeless echoes
past those dire meadows
of serpentine fires
and shrouds you saw
where life eclipsed
by cosmic law
so i read you
one of my black little pieces
of erotomania
headless Barbie ejaculations
all Marquis De Sade
shadow fantasies
of dead play toe tag
and spilt milk
kisses' true
under Habeas Corpus
sweet dead you
you made me giggle
like jumping jellybeans
and *** honey
I'm so glad you liked it
and your cute comment
about how my poem
made love to you
like multi chromed
teensy weensy
**** candy throat ticklers
at a careless Halloween party
where everything forbidden
in troves
is hidden by the hidden
how you loved
dancing with Night-gaunts
from temples of the astral
past those incessant ruffling whispers
past shadows flesh
somewhere high up
beyond the glimmering headlights
of muttering pastel colored boulevards
that flicker contorted images
of the resurrected living dead
still warm
in your dreadful toxic bed
so tell me dead girl
till the day i die
is it better now
beyond father time
no more words and wounds
no more toothaches
and lunging depressions
pulling you helplessly
into gloomy vortexes
shadowed cups
of looming spacelessness
with no downs or ups
instead you say
you're published
in the Dead Leaf rag
where words like shrouds
blur ballooning solicitude
of indecipherable
mirrored reflections
under tongues of crystal ethers
where life lives backwards
and you just
write beautiful
white
nothings
like flat eyed Phoenician ghosts
beyond the ages
in windless skies
on empty pages
Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 12:46 PM UTC