Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
“Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons.”
                                                    ­ George Orwell, 1984* (published in 1949)

Which brings us, of course, to the subject of torture since 1949.
Come with me to the Casbah, Babaloo.
We begin in the 1950s with the French in North Africa,
****** baguettes in Algeria,
Couilles frits, anyone?
Electrodes wired to Mustapha’s *****.
And "Bigeard's Shrimps,” as the bodies were called,
Dumped over the Mediterranean from aircraft,
All things considered a je ne sais quoi,
Though Camus and Sartre gave it a whack.

Then the 1960s: the CIA dabbling in mind-control and LSD.
Later, a Phoenix Program,
Very secretive, sympathies with the Cong required,
Various elders selected,
The village disinfected,
**, **, ** and a bowl of Pho.

Apartheid anyone?
Thirty years of South African terror & torture.
Torment in the townships,
Shaka Zulu gold and diamonds,
De Beers in Swaziland swing.

1971: riots at Attica,
Prisoners abused and tortured,
Rockefeller’s overcrowded slammer,
An upstate New York katzenjammer,
Nelson’s finger on the trigger,
39 dead and counting,
But who’s counting?

The CIA, back in the news in 1973,
Torture chambers under Chilean soccer stadiums,
And the Khmer Rouge:
Those Wacky Cambodians with skull racks.  
And let us not forget the British,
With centuries of colonial experience behind them,
Occupy six counties in Northern Ireland.
Finally codify the imperial process,
The Five Techniques:
Sounds like a Motown group,
Satin smooth colored boys,
But more method than music:
(1) Wall-standing,
(2) Hooding,
(3) Subjection to noise,
(4) Sleep deprivation,
(5) No food and drink.

And there’s a bunch of horrible ****,
We still don’t know about the Argentine ***** War,
And other Mai Lai-like,
****-fest massacres in Vietnam.

How about torture since 1984?
Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo,
Come quickly,
(www.prematureejaculatorsanonymous.com)
To mind,
As do US-sponsored rendition facilities,
Spread throughout the NATO alliance.
And closer to home, it’s never a dull moment in the 5 Boroughs:
Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, The Bronx and Manhattan.
Take your pick from Giuliani’s Greatest Hits,
Rudy Kazootie’s campaign of law and order,
Not necessarily in that order.
More awful than lawful,
A bathroom plunger rammed up,
The Haitian voodoo ****** of Abner Louima,
While he be handcuffed at a Brooklyn station house.
Or, the NYPD partying like it was 1999.
When in fact, it was1999,
And a curious death it was for Amadou Diallo,
Would-be American citizen from The Republic of Guinea,
(No connection to Italy or Italians),
Abner & Amadou: a pair of cautionary tales,
Either/or reflecting standard procedure for the Po-Po,
Time and time again from coast to coast.
Either/or: poor Abner, no Haitian Papa Doc.
Poor Amadou, on his way home from night school,
When police squeeze off 41 rounds,
Most of them in his direction,
Hitting him 19 times.
Just the facts, ma’am:
Diallo had reached into his jacket.
A trigger-happy police officer yells “Gun.”
A jungle warfare quartet springs into action:
Shenzi, Banzai, Ed & Zazu,
Four equally trigger-happy colleagues,
Empty their weapons.
No gun was found on Diallo,
Only the wallet he tried to pull out,
Containing his Green Card,
4 U.S. dollar bills;
And a laminated,
Credit card-sized copy of the U.S. Bill of Rights.
(I just didn’t know when to quit, did I?
The wallet was there with Green Card and the bucks,
But I made up the part about the Bill of Rights,
Trying to add poetry to tragedy, as usual.)

I don’t have to say much about Rodney King (RIP).
You watched it on TV a hundred times,
And a picture’s worth a thousand words.
Or ten thousand or a million, I suppose.
“Can’t we all just get along?” asked Rodney Glen King.

Last but not least there’s Kelly Thomas (RIP),
Another incidence of police insanity,
It was July of 2011 in Fullerton, California.
Thomas, a 37-year-old homeless man,
Schizophrenic, but unarmed,
Beaten to death at a bus depot,
During an altercation with six Fullerton police officers.
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2019225/Kelly-Thomas-Poli­­ce-beat-taser-gentle-mentally-ill-homeless-man­-death.html#ixzz1e­3­4QnHtr

Mervyn Lazarus | Attorney | (www.mervlazarus.com) Police Brutality, Excessive Force and Jail Injury cases | California . . . Albuquerque

Jackie Chiles perfect attorney -YouTube, (www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpcEietIoxk) Nov 17, 2010 - 13 min - Uploaded by Kroeger22 All the scenes with Jackie Chiles from Seinfeld."Chiles is a parody of famed attorney Johnnie Cochran; both ... www.seinfeld.com

Perhaps the greatest torture of all,
Is that which artists subject us to.
Let us examine the case of Roberto Bolaño:
Roberto Bolaño, the great Chilean writer,
Tells a fabulous World War II story,
About a Spaniard--an Andalusian--
Fighting for the Germans against the Russians.
Captured by the Russians,
He is tortured for information.
The Spaniard speaks no Russian,
He knows only four words of German.
The Russian interrogators strap him into a chair,
Attach electrodes to his *****,
Attach pincers to his tongue.
The pain makes his eyes water.
He said--or rather shouts--the word coño.
It is Spanish for ****.
The pincers in his mouth,
Distort the expletive,
Which in his howling voice comes out as KUNST.
The Russian who knows German looks at him in puzzlement.
The Andalusian was yelling KUNST,
Yelling KUNST and crying in pain.
KUNST in German means art,
And that was what the bilingual Russian heard, KUNST.
“This ******* must be an artist or something.”
The torturers remove the pincers,
Along with a little piece of tongue,
And wait, momentarily hypnotized by the revelation:
The word ART had soothed the savage beasts.
So soothed, the savage beasts take a breather,
Waiting for some kind of signal.
Meanwhile, the Andalusian bleeds from the mouth,
Swallows his blood liberally mixed with saliva, and chokes.
The word coño,
Transformed into the word *KUNST,

Had saved his life.
It was dusk when he came out of the building.
Light stabbed at his eyes like midday sun.

So, it’s a fact that I love,
Truly love the simple blunt Anglo-Saxon expletive ****,
****: I pray that while I am being tortured some day,
I have the dignity to scream the word out loud.
And if I am screaming **** at the very end,
When my nervous system finally fails,
When I **** my pants,
When my pulmonic heart and lungs collapse,
Is that so bad?
Is that so wrong?

Do you realize that 1984 came--
Came and went, without any significant cultural hoopla?
The networks ignored it.
As did the cable pundits.
No significant comparative analysis between,
Orwell’s book 1984 and the year 1984,
Was broadcast electronically or publicized in print.
Steve Jobs got it, but as usual no one else did.
Mr. Jobs (RIP) did his best,
To mainstream its profound cultural relevance,
But ultimately failed,
Despite the $1.5 million he paid one of the networks,
To air a one minute nation-wide commercial,
During the 3rd Quarter,
Of Super Bowl XVIII,
January 22, 1984.
Despite Ridley Scott’s astonishing spell-binder,
His 60-second spot for The Macintosh 128K--
Still considered a watershed event,
And an advertising industry masterpiece,
…YouTube it and watch it.  (www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8ji0B98IMo).
See the hammer throwing athlete chick,
See her fling the sledge,
That huge sledgehammer,
Smash into Big Brother’s flat screen face.
Despite Jobs’ global presence,
Despite Steverino’s unfettered microphone access,
Whenever he felt an oraculation coming on,
Despite everything,
He was unable to move the powers that be,
To either hype the book or the prophecy come true.

So, what’s my point? I have two.
First, in April 1984 the estate of George Orwell,
And the television rights holder to the novel 1984,
Considered the edgy Jobs/Scott commercial to be,
A flagrant copyright infringement,
Sending a cease-and-desist letter to Apple Inc.
And the advertising agency that produced the spot: Chiat/Day Inc.
The commercial was never televised as a commercial after that.  
Score: Lawyers 1, Artists 0.

My second point is that in November 2011,
The U.S. government argued before the U. S. Supreme Court,
That it wants to continue utilizing GPS tracking of individuals,
Without first seeking a warrant.
In response, Justice Stephen Breyer (one of the sane ones),
Questioned what this means for a democratic society.
Referencing Nineteen Eighty-Four, Justice Breyer asked:
"If you win this case, then there is nothing,
To prevent the police or the government from monitoring 24/7,
The public movement of every citizen of the United States.
So if you win, you suddenly produce what sounds like 1984 . . .”*

My third point,
(Yeah, I know I said two, but *******.)
My third point is that I’m just so ******* angry,
All the time, late and soon like Wordsworth,
(Was anyone more aptly named?)
I am angry about so many different things,
And every day that goes by I relate more and more,
To the thousands of Americans that occupied,
Zuccotti Park and Oakland,
And countless other venues,
Out into the streets.
Across the country.
Around the world.  
I am humbled by their courage and perseverance.
Yet, I am afraid for them.
I am made paranoid by the scope and power,
Of the government,
Of the ruling class that controls it,
And the technology they allow us to embrace,
Technology’s sinister potential,
Now that more and more knowledge and information,
Has been digitized,
Existing only in cyberspace.                                                      ­                                                 
What frightens most is the realization,
That anyone with a word processor,
And access to the database could rewrite,
Any historical or legal document,
To fit the needs of a current agenda.
The scary part is—
Repeating myself for emphasis—
That anyone with a word processor
And access to the database could rewrite,
Any historical or legal document,
To fit the needs of a current agenda.

Does anyone out there give a ****?
Does anyone out there share my nightmare?
Do it to Julia.
Do it to Julia.
Twas essential to see her in wintertide -
misery in order to appreciate the abundant daffodils -
of spring , the cardinal ever watchful over -
her fledgelings , the gaiety , pomp and circumstance -
of damsel flies , the mockingbird flautist and -
the peckerwood drumming
The morning laughter of Bear creek
The multicolored blades of March that -
stair step the Mill Falls
Morning dove woo their lovers , whitetails -
in repose , in the backdrop of misty , hardwood -
cover
Her poetic omnipotence in touch with my -
innermost being
Ever watchful as the cardinal
Breath exposed
Pious
Forever thankful
Copyright March 8 , 2018 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Wren , heron and robin wailed                                                                            Cold , clear waters swirled o'er
black glass boulders                                                         ­                                                       Her river song was endless as
thrill seekers walked the tall , treelined shoulders ,
as the blue eyes of God watched from above
Copyright April 23 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Cunning Linguist Sep 2018
Triggered much
I'm the boss
Take the loss -
I'm the sauce *****,
A1

Call my bluff
Mindless thots
Gobble ****
Catch me bustin
Like it ain't nut

Go to sleep

Fighting wars with keyboards,
While Grandma knits
Globally postal
Wit that anthrax mix
only hoping that reality splits;

These Lizard overlords
be slitherin quick
Underground:
u kno this wigga, B. Hittin-Licks

I’m ****** imminent  
to infinity and beyond
This dude buzzed lightyear,
Woody full attention;
Lil Bo Peep
She be getting no sleep,
Its a methed up situation yuh

This the celebration

Make yo ****
fissure into splinters
Crack the Ripper
with my finger
on the trigger
just hope it dont slip
~make you quiver
Rock a tight sphincter

Boi got nothing to lose
u bet your *** that I deliver
Devastating maneuvers
leave you hatin fools
Like who dis kid
with parkinsons jitters

Its a disgrace
cant lace ya shoes
But tryna play catch up
**** outta my face
*****,  hail the victor ya trippin'

Make no mistake,
my alias is satan
You lost the game
Restart the mission?

Dyslexic peasant,
I brought yo presents
I'm aggressive
reckless and relentless
got a rope necklace take some lessons

Finna hit em with that finisher
Sippin licks with dinner sure
Smokin out the villagers
**** and pillage conqueror
Down the bottle slurring words
Blurring out the big pictures
Swinging from a high fixture
Slanging sherm above the curve

rello I be rollin
biscuit limp but i be blowin
Out the water laps I'm stroking
Real **** love got homies choking

Smoke bricks kick rocks
Got the socks on with the flip flops

Golf cap on my noggin
Give me top like its hats off
grab some charmin
keep that *** soft
***** gravier than thicc sauce
Like my salad full toss
About to clobber em
Jump jump ***** crisscross

Taskforce Outlaws with chainsaws
Pale horse when that bass drop

And it’s occured to me
Since I lack the courtesy
To say the pleasantries
fore i be pushing out them boundaries

Killer O.J. quenches thirst
a murderous summer is the worst
But if the glove fits, must acquit
need a magnum, Jonnie Cochran
blast em wit the Chewbacca defense

Flowerboy spit my seed *****
Loose lips in the whip aye
Firmly grasp the shaft
when I switch lanes
Pallets of ******* call me rick James
Pull up round the clock
Gone off that rock
Knocked my mf block off ***** I'm insane
Tha fire token renegade

through that snapback
Spills ya ****** brains
Wayne Cochran is dead, & soon he will be buried on an island with
dead X-princess Diana, so Wayne's dead corpse'll have to be ferried
by ferry, because this cadaver is too fat, by swimmers, to be carried
Deadwood Haiku Mar 2015
once, when I thought I
had smallpox, Doc Cochran slapped
me across the face
http://deadwoodhaiku.blogspot.com/2015/03/even-been-beaten-merrick.html
First, Tom Cochran, and next, Rascal Flatts,
sang that
     Life is a Highway
and that's partially true if
you're willing to consider that
     coasting is not an option
that you rarely have the opportunity
to drive hundreds of miles without
rubberneckers or blue Q-Tips driving
     forty in a sixty-five
to drive from Napa to San Diego without
stopping for mixed nuts and a frozen coffee
     and Smartfood
to drive with movie-like abandon without
the Thelma & Louise slo-mo sending you
     careening toward the crevasse
Life is a highway riddled, web-like, with
unexpected off-ramps and
unforeseen on-ramps and
inconvenient detours that take you places
     you never dreamed you'd go
          you never thought you'd end up
but there are
     rest stops and
     diners and
     fruit stands offering organic sunshine
and there are
     flat tires and
     empty tanks and
     road crews repaving your path in 104 degree heat
and there are
     national parks and
     natural wonders and
     the world's largest frying pan
      the world's largest ball of twine
       the world's crookedest road
        the world's newest you
Your life is a highway that is made of
     choices
which lead you on your own
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
with epic battles for good and evil and
pots of gold at the end of sprinkler-rainbows and
endless hints that
     YOU MAY ALREADY BE A WINNER!!!
Your life is a highway and
     if you miss your off-ramp
accept your new path
           . . . because there's no going back and
     if you miss your on-ramp
enjoy the scenery and the cows and the Texas Stop-Signs
           . . . because you never know when you'll
see them again
Your life is a highway and
     this is your off-ramp, so
take it with
          your eyes open to wonder
          your heart open to magic
          your life open to change
               because that is you evolving
Honor the view in your rearview mirror as you
keep your eyes on the horizon and
     with joy
      with fear
       with electric anticipation
Take your exit!
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2016
i know, i should have attempted to collect black sabbath's oeuvre, instead  i missed out on master of reality's song solitude, loved that song, learned to play it apart from the solo, and a girl remarked 'i did't know you could play country music', country?! ah, you mean country as in: sleepy hollow haunted woods and wide open fields and remote routes into isolation? ah, well then yes. shame really, but i'm not going to feel ashamed having collected iron maiden and slayer oeuvres (up to a sensible point), but **** me, that song! and thank god i smashed my guitar on the stones, bye bye, you haunted guitar.*

you know, after reading a lot of books,
esp. in your ****** prime and want of party party,
you digest things a lot easier,
mind you, i used to visit my grandparents
in the summer religiously, a perfect environment
to have read major books:
kierkegaard's either / or, bertrand russell's
history of western philosophy,
dostoyevsky's the karamazov brothers,
bolesław prus' the doll,
don quixote, tatarkiewicz's on joy...
i mean mammoth-sized books (by the way,
mammoth is a word derived from estonian,
and they didn't become extinct as far back
as you might think)... but the perfect environment
to read them... and after you've done that,
and enjoyed a few other books in between
you just turn to writing, and reading book
reviews... like today, i sneezed four times
to protect me against the guilt of laughing
reading a book review, rather than the book itself:
death drive - there are no accidents,
a book about celebrities crashing their cars,
fatal car accidents; enlisted examples refer to:
jayne mansfield, albert camus, james dean,
eddie cochran, mike hailwood, mike hawthorn,
marc bolan, tara browne, isadora duncan.
i guess you just forget reading books,
having testified to yourself an adequate cultural
canon being possessed: well, i mean,
imagine going back to the town of your birth
you left aged 8 and spending time with your
grandparents for a month - you have to
make shroud economics in such scenarios.
PoetLeChatelier Nov 2019
“I have been trying to get laid
So should I try lacing up my suspenders and get my *******,
for another fifty shades of drinking a Harlem shake to the
piece of cake fairy tale of nagging paper trail just to impress a **** pony tail
at the dark alley bakery, vending her own cookie with a tight shoulder skirt to this lions in search of an empire from a leverage  point to cleavage, Torching the alley with a naked thigh just like tossing a coin into a fountain in a circus with clown with umbrella about throw some shade until when the tides go out to, you get to know who’s been swimming naked upon the pleasures that are bitter to swallow to this blood ******* roaches chasing strangers who would spread her legs to the canvas and induce seduction as a color scheme……..
She called me sadist and I called myself a dreamer,
She dreamt of pushing me off the bed and calling me a screamer
She envisioned cutting my throat and playing jazz with my vocal chords
She fantasied sarcastically caressing my cuticles just because last night I came in short of breath

Previously
She would sell her own soul to the syringe of morphine drip
for a denial shot that pain heals in the prefix of an outpatient  rehab
now in the bathtub nursing in patient withdrawal ,
She would tie a shoe string around her bicep in search of vein,
so as to squeeze the **** libido version of limbo to oblivion
humiliating the dark clouds begging for a shooting star
to the pages that frustrates the pen unto the novel that prescribes a prenuptial of black bride killing the reader’s digest and buries their heads…………..so……………………

I am becoming a book.
that will induce an ****** with sympathy veil of beggar feeding on their own horses
to the end of the caterpillar misery is **** butterfly confetti to script that syncs the readers perception
Into the ****** abuses of the needle that impregnates the ink and tells the canvas to go get paternity test throughout the history of melting medusa lips
that made a homeless robin without a hood painting a revolution in this concrete jungle
where dreams are made up from silence thought that can
ambush a hive softy through whistling that melts
a bee’s temper in the presence of a queen is a poisonous sting of a artist
dipping his own brush into his own soul with a healing dew that never bruises
the honey in the vein of the garden is the beauty of the wine  
From a vine to flower is a grape in the glass is anarchy

From what I am running from
To misery flowing from the river on
That’s why we are here
To profile the lost identity from the art of war that sun Tzu was afraid of losing his head to another thigh!
That’s why we are here
To profile the slit of the dress that curved the sword another napoleon to conquer Soviet Union
That’s why we are here
To profile a love Ballard from contortionist that melted medusa eyes from cold to flexible
Revolution will wear a mini skirt, squat and kiss the lepers hands for the Benjamin’s banking dump jokes...and still hire Johnnie Cochran for second ****** trial of O.J Simpson ……………
That’s why I still want …………………………….



our culture wore a fabric of circus clothes only dance in the arena like a puppet from the strings of the servants chasing a redemption in the den of thrones getting thrown to the game of throne for guilty pleasure as kings daughters were gambling upon gladiators death to the freedom of escaping their own Sobibor that chopped off my foot in the life of Kunta Kinte
Slavery was blushing teeth with a **** moan of a cigarette smoke
Flirting to the horrors of unshaved groins,
from the growing pains in the hands that planted olive trees
to labor and harvest their oil that has become tears of
cowards staining heaven with obscene imagery of their own likeness
holding their insights captive upon the eyes of the ******
Until our backs were a canvas of whips and brutality, we had tattoos
of pain and graffiti of blood as written the book blue skies
claiming the prepare the way the Lord, judging Esther from a supremacy attire of poverty
termed to be isolated from the world where the corner stone fell into the wrong hands and built a
Tower of babel for the Pharisee living in a glass house



Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal to pleasure
the urges out of the Garden of Eden, Adam had to seek leaves to live with eve,
From a mustard seed renouncing the deception ought to praise the womb that gave birth to the blood sweat and tears to the system planting snares pig’s ears and fears ,
with intent to subdue the cat inside the bag from the smell of the rat that has been suffering a broken rib
We used ashes as lotion to conquer the scratching pains of the unhearing wounds eying the staff that turned into a serpent in exodus to the stiff neck of the system after the death of Moses….we had to succumb to victory,


There was a story of how soldiers got hungry
in the battlefield even they started feeding on themselves
Fighting for peace in the pieces of human meat...
upon pawns that have kept chasing the salvation of in the story that was
made by rats that fought all the dogs and killed the cats is like
Judging a fish with its own abilities to climb trees from the a shadow of small boy reflecting an elephant in the room with betrayal that made Julius have a seizure after gambling with another’s man
life with few pieces of silver sealed by a Judas kiss that killed Jesus,
(no braggadocio! modest rodomontade scored triumphantly!)

Unbeknownst to me, a generic human ape,
an unpleasant surprise
     swished down like an ominous cape
awaited and near smothered me drape

ping that October morning, where no escape
presaged via frisky black cats
     chasing shadows on fire escape
crossed my path after walking under a ladder
     where ice **** ravens didst jape!
**********
Wheels of injustice applied via de
fender, sans Johnny Cochran forced ee
year splitting amidst general public fee
ver rush to absorb disbelief shell shock hee
ret tickle non guilty conviction from key

ping popular culture spell bountious lee
really exhausted viz three ring me
dee ya circus (June 1994 – October 1995) pre
vail ling obvious evidence irrelevant, thus re
deeming O.J. Simpson to strut guilt free

from emotionally charged trial. I awoke
as usual and performed customary bespoke
oblations vis a vis half-hour plus choke
hold asphyxiation meditation, okey doke
shuteye discipline followed daily to evoke

calm, cool, and collected trance zen dental
bliss before motoring on with gist of gentle
lee presented vignette, though me mental
state did not shift gears into a rental

modus operandi, but only partially new
trawl eyed , cuz the then fiancé (one mew
zing chic chick i.e. Abby Robin Zison), Jew
dish us lee spent the night
     at our transitional grew

some domicile) immediately nsync to report do
tuff lee (at the Goddard School)
     raced like a Chew
Bach ha's Dickensian protagonist back up Badoo
two flights of stairs. Like eponymous Aloo

men hum mushing spry feline woman out bitta bing
bitta bang (clanging like hells bells) ding  
donging, she immediately flew back fling
all four feet eleven of her harried style jing

ling in an agitated state she set foot to go bob  
bing out the door intent
   (as iterated) driving to her job,
and in combination pantomime
   and words crisis did lob

asper like a bot to me,
     she attempted to communicate rob
bing her unsuspecting fount of thespianism
   tub air gritty modicum
   of rationale from putrid slob

name of Leslie (the lunatic landlady)
     thine paramour conveyed clarity mouth ajar
after surmising urgent news
     required automatic action to un bar
driveway, where I parked car,

the previous night surreptitiously venal far
from rational rapscallion most definitely har
bored an axe to grind, and locked Ford Escort par
**** shinned within chain linked fence - war

fore suggestion got made
     (from future bride)
to confront landlady,
     and sternly insist and mildly chide
corrective action taken,

     yet this storyteller defied
said suggestion, and brainstormed
    with betrothed asthma guide
averting compromising neither of our pride

and prejudice respective, sans stevedore
managers would not let us slide
gnome hatter, how we could not
     escape deprecation
     no matter how much we tried.

Prior to heading off to bed
     the prior night, I deigned
to express likelihood to landlord/owner
     thyself and pseudo spouse needed to find

another place to live. The major reasons
for vacating premises? Her grind
ding cigarette no ifs, ands
     or buts smoking mind
less ness ranked (on par
     with chimney didst wind

     burning wood smoke
at full blast) as primary source
     of revulsion did provoke,
and aye came across with homespun folksy
sensitive mien, as a simple country bloke
I expressed honest sentiment at being
extremely averse (where hacking awoke

     the future wife)
     from second hand carcinogen(s)  
     extant within cancer sticks. Asphyxiation deafen
knit lee found me choking half to death even
putting towel under the door, or

     additionally keeping
     bedroom window wide open,
the malodorous nicotine wisps ambled - pen
     knit trait ting, wending, curly cued,
     and filtered thru fabric with mischievous yen.

No matter, the twisting tendrils of tobacco found
their way into ole factory nasal cavity ground
zero, sans health conscious holistic being hound
did, what constituted one deranged dame
     the SPCA ought to impound.

Another factor fueling foul accommodations yin
     wanna know offset fine tuned win
Dixie yang,
     which odoriferous torture constituted

     nauseating odor of cat *****
and litter boxes smelt worse than sin,
cuz, they never got cleaned of feline ***** matter
     near visible as a unsightly dangerous shark fin.

Upon summoning effort
     and energy to communicate
bona fide concerns, she responded
     and didst denigrate

with contempt fiery madness irate
psychotic malicious venomous vile
     as dead body snatcher mate
and then insidious wheels

     of malice with tongue flames
crackling, popping, and snapping
     from out her reptilian pate
     began to turn more sharply

     amidst ghoulish clatter and path
     of destruction on her tabula rosa slate
with more danger than
     along axis of evil tete a tete.

She madly paced back and forth
     across maligned envisioned aisle
a small patch of uncluttered space in main foyer
     witnessed seething rage wherein

     carpeted floor boards,
     an imperfect circle shod feet didst dial
no doubt internally
     plotting vengeful strategic guile.

Castigations, fulminations, and insinuations ague
gulled out her mouth
     noxious fumes left exit pronto flew
ludicrous lacerations
     from fiery dragon lady did spew

while yours truly soundly slept
     and without incident dreamt edenic view
she unwittingly trappings to annihilate  Xandu
some personal vendetta. After I washed, dressed as a zoo

keeper headed downstairs,
     the malicious scheme she did hatch
out back became a living reality,
     an empty house doors hooked with latch

(Samir, the other occupant) left hours earlier no match
to tangle with wicked witch absented premises natch
eerily echoed every footstep trod one patch,
after another
     patent leather slippers paused to scratch

an niche 'pon second landing
     (to confirm a strong hunch)
that nary a soul heard nor seen,
     probably out to lunch,

no raving ranting banshee
     demented drunk as punch
No zombie like entity appeared from the “DO
NOT DISTURB” sign affixed
     outside sleeping area, aye did scrunch

brow to compress insight,
     where mangy catatonic felines
     shared coterie holograms suddenly jumped out
     from virtual reality cat n' app cradle
     swishing tails shorn like cat o' nines

mewing obscenities (within/ out
     computer screen, ominous signs,
sans phantasmagoric phantom) lurking
     like a lunatic swing from vines.

Nonetheless, I continued to tread
     down dimly lit said
lower level with glimmer
     of optimism to bolster lead

din heavy mood crossing fingers
     spare set of skeleton keys
     (with cross bones and skull head)
nearly always left tantalizingly
     dangling in unused door latch, twas cred

double wish, thus spirit within me soared
and just as quickly sank to abyss of psyche moored
     sensation felt like poured molten lava oh Lord
Guess what? No such luck. Oh,
     she definitely would not a ford

carelessness, and took precautions okay
hiding temptation to make a getaway
Well…I stepped outside
     to assess situation. Blimey cray
zee myopic eyes forced to glean deadbolt
     found gate shut tight, thence a feeble bray

escaped parched lips, when lo...vix
teased and cross myopic eyes,
     no doubt played tricks
holy glory. Ah, a handsaw
     carelessly got left and altered mix
matched tool chest in plain view, a sudden fix

but prior to acting on the plan, quite do able
I made a few telephone calls
     first telephonically cable
hub rate, and firstly contacted employer

     told tale more unbelievable than a fable
thence to local police
     in order to file complaint against
     goon bonkers malicious monstrous label

quick as the brown fox
     jumps over the lazy dog
escape attempted perilous hell grog
ghee nightmare commenced after placing

     phone back on cradle, whence nog
     'gin set fingers to twitch busily
     sawing into one steel link,
    (an effort aye did slog)

thru to break at one linkedin steel segment
barricading trusty Ford Escort
     so this fellow could hightail with pent
up adrenaline out of nefarious
     steely web and test a mint...,

     whence surge of adrenaline
coursed from head to toe,
     my heart pounded not so gent
lee ready to burst from chest,
     and palms perspired profusely
with unexpected accursed of evil incarnate
     vis a vis hell bent agent

provocateur ready to pounce
     and deliver violent
retribution, which blows
     from blunt heavy object,
   would invariably render me unconscious
   courtesy of cerebral rent.

For better than worse, a kind face
of destiny smiled from countenance grace
sing unseen karma
     smiled smooth as sateen or lace
upon my essence as shaking hands

     furiosly moved saw handle
     back and forth dozens of times until…
THE CHAIN BROKE AND SET ME FREE
     now fickle finger of fate
     got me ought ta this place!
I peered upward into a thousand colored shapes-
Bathed in a cool living pond
The Bells of Heaven mingled with the-
tones of this raging fountain
Jesus Christ surely stood above this waterfall
So be it ...
Copyright July 18 , 2021 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Pines seeds trickle downward from the canopy , find home on the floor of Cochran Mill .  Feverish morning blackbirds , burning sunlight just above the wild grass strewn approach .. I once prayed for love by these very waters ..
Copyright March 22 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
recorded July sixth nineteen sixty
upon birth of she who doggedly
pursued me to the ends of the earth
and what not take no as an answer.

Unbeknownst to yours truly
a baby girl got born
sixty three years from aforementioned date;
she automatically triggered
excited buzzfeeding murmurs
heard amidst the madding crowd
patiently awaiting to secure their eats
at none other than Horn & Hardart
offering their house special,
albeit free of charge;

the grandfather of present day
food service industry company Grubhub
acknowledged storied birth
with roster of special guests such as:
Connie Francis, Eddie Cochran
(the latter came all the way over
from the United Kingdom),
and even then president
Dwight David Eisenhower
made guest appearance.

Meanwhile, about sixty plus miles away
a little boy, (who lived
in Levittown, Pennsylvania)
experienced a fleeting warm gentle caress
identical to soft summer breeze
linkedin to sugar and spice
and everything nice;
he smiled and unknowingly blushed
unaware his destined lifemate
secured courtesy good housekeeping

seal of approval,
which may seem
like an otter outrageous claim,
but mark my words approximately
thirty orbitz around the sun later
would witness his heartthrob
(currently snoozing away on the bed)
pledging to accept first one contra dance
after another until... death due him part.

I ofttimes sat alone
on the concrete steps
at Summit Presbyterian Church
6757 Greene Street, Philadelphia, PA 19119
perusing contents of reading material
unable to focus on the words,
cuz excitement prevailed
to exalt in an evening of pure ecstasy.

The third Thursday each month
at eight o'clock post meridiem
held special significance
at above named facility,
which constituted kibitizing,
fraternizing, but especially flirting
while contra dancing
usually with no ulterior motive.

Our fate got sealed upon occasion,
when I willingly shared Neptune Salad
(a discontinued product sold at Wawa)
with lass who stood
all of four feet and eleven inches
and sported trademark long thick hair,
whose locks (I dreadfully report
long since got lopped off),
then rivalled those of Rapunzel.

As an introverted generic
long haired pencil necked geeky lad
always awkward in the company of people
(even making small talk),
an eventual comfort to converse arose
with longitudinally challenged referenced gal,
whose buzzfeeding dialogue
indeed jump/kick started
us to exchange tidbits about ourselves,
such as address, age, birthday...
and other general information,
hence bringing to my awareness
regarding special occasion
she made debut appearance
within webbed, wide world.

Said lass subsequently
became dance partner for life
after she found herself with child
we became husband and wife.
Big Virge Jun 2020
Ya Know .....

I Like A GOOD Show ...
When It's Done ... WELL ... !!!!!

From Concerts To Dramas ...
To Flicks That Hit HARDER ...
Than ... ABUSIVE Partners ... !!!!

Shows That EXPOSE ...
How Low People Go ...
Are Also The Type ...
That INSPIRE Rhymes ...
That Show How My Mind ...
Is Prone To Design ...
Wordplay That grOWS ...
And Eventually FLOWS ...
Like ... Lyrical PRO's ... !!!!

Which Just Goes To Show ...
That Sometimes What's BITTER ...
Can Turn Into ... " GOLD " ... !!!

GOLDEN Like ... " Globes " ...
At Those Award Shows ... !!!

From TV ... To Music ...
Award Shows Be CHOOSING ...
ALL Kinds of ... " Creators " ... !!!!!!!!!
Show STOPPERS And Makers ...
of Shows Put To Paper ...
That Somehow Much Later ...
Become Something GREATER ... !!!!!!

Than ... P.O.T.U.S Debaters ... !!!

Whose Shows Are A JOKE ...
Because They ... Like Coc' ...
Are Just Good For DOPES ... !!!!
WITHOUT ... " Ali's ROPE " ... !!!!!!

Things That They ... " Quote " ...
Just Show That Their Notes ...
Are DUD Like ... The HOPE ...
They CLAIM They'll PROVIDE ...
For ... " Citizens' Lives ' " ... !!!!

ALL SHOW But What's TOLD ... ?
As Their Show ... UNFOLDS ...
Is A ... WHOLE HEAP of TELL ...
That Has Some FOUL SMELLS ... !!!!!

"He SAYS THIS And She SAYS THAT !"

Only To FIND That Their Show's Built To ... " TRAP " ...
People Like RATS When Cats REFUSE NAPS ... !!!!!
And Government Plans That Leave Foreign Lands ...

In ...... MURDEROUS Hands ...... !!!!!

Kind of Like ... YEAH ...
That Show ... " HOMELAND " ... !?!

But Of Course WHAT They Show ...
Is How They CONTROL Their Soldiers Like DRONES ... !!!!!

To SHOW ... NO REMORSE ... !!!
When KILLING'S The Course ...
That They CHOOSE To FOLLOW ... ?!?
That Leave People HOLLOW ... !?!

FILLED UP With HOLES ... !!!
Like Shows That EXPOSE ...
A LACK of PRECISION ...
In How They're DELIVERED ... !!!!!

Shows That Are Given ...
By Heads Who DON'T Listen ...

So Find That Their Thinking ...
Is FAR FROM ...... Positioned ......
From Places Where BUILDING ...
HELPS Them ... Make A Living ... !!!

The Path That I've CHOSEN ...
Has Shown That When Written ...
Big Virge Words Are POTENT ... !!!

So REJECT The ... " Notion " ...
of ... Impossible Missions ... !!!!!

I Show Up Like ... " COCHRAN' " ...
WITHOUT ... OJ Simpson ... !!!!!

Making A ... " KILLING " ...
WITHOUT Facing Prison ... !!!

So YES Now You KNOW ...
That When My Pen FLOWS ...

Whether DRIVEN By Rhythm ...
Or Just ... Simple Prose ...

It's REALLY A ... " Given " ...
That Things ... " Big Virge Written " ...

When Taken From Page ...
And Spoken On Stage ...
Or ON ... Lines of BASS ...

DISPLAY What Is Known ...

As YES A ... Good ...

......... " SHOW " .......
It's Clearly ALL ABOUT The ... " Show " ...
I wrung your neck like a gay biker on acid could if he were on T.V.
or like a Gypsy might, cold from linearity in a Czechoslovakian sea
This churning emotional turmoil nearly killed my neighbor in 1998
when he was ******* ugly ******* in a hobo shack on Pontiac Lake
It's been a lousily-bad day because a thief stole my front bike wheel
& I am bleeding like a Russian prince on day 1 of this ****** cycle
& I learned that Tito Jackson was not the ****** brother of Michael
Wayne Cochran is dead, & soon he will be buried on an island with
dead X-princess Diana, so Wayne's dead corpse'll have to be ferried
by ferry, because this cadaver is too fat, by swimmers, to be carried
Medically, in this Haitian climate, my 4 **** lips are soft & vibrant
I could pull my fancy Ocean City taffy across your puffy, ready lips
or crack ribs that float above Tongan-girdled hips while I yuck it up
with nips, spooks & 4 ***** in junks that will be sunk like drunken
ships on bloodless, gutless, rudderless, maiden-headed maiden trips
I always make delicious pie crust with top-quality-white-pig-fat lard
& later, so ******* won't steal it, I smear pig **** on my E.B.T. card
I check my manly genitals, I check them a lot, to make sure that my
impressively-large ****, that everybody loves, has not been shot off
Play dead David Cassidy's song, “Sitting on a Pile of Pig Parts” for
those here, who've been to jail, but who've never done it up the rear
I told David, “You might cram walnuts up your **** and blame me
for the coffee crop failure in Spain, before Susan Dey goes insane.”
Many years ago a turnip farmer bought an *** to pull his turnip cart
because he supplied the turnips to the produce department at Kmart
1 day when his wife was turnin' tricks with the lot lizard Kara Jean,
who was the most relentless ****** the farmer had ever seen, a new
Kmart caught fire & was completely destroyed & everyone was sad
I kissed a married twosome of ****-divers last week, 1's a tall ****
school marm, all legs & lipstick, & the other is at her ****-*** peak
Halifax hospital's awful, awfully happy to give normal, ***-abiding
*****, 6 Thanksgiving Day *** ****** with Tom turkey drum-sticks
Consider my wealth as it is considerable even what you'll not see &
I'll pay for stuff that is too big to steal, that is too big to steal for me
Put your head on my shoulder, hem-stitch it on for good, for I'm the
nuclear life of elite human power forcing you to act like you should
Awakening dead kills a head-achingly wakeful state that men dread
You took back your fake teen love suddenly like a godless heathen,
to focus on a lonely guy you camped in the forest with called Ethan
1 day Missy, you're goin' to find a dead whale on your porch with a
letter that says: "Dear Miss Breanna, I mailed to you a dead whale."
Remember what has been said, after your only Richard #22 is dead,
Breanna #21 my pretty pet, will suffer from biting, post-petty regret
Like a ***** ****** with runny genital ******, a ***** ***** gave to
me, runny genital ****** I didn't need that hurt #6 ***** after I peed
1 moment, you are eating peanuts with a homosexual on a bridge &
the very next moment, you are tossing the ****-****** off the bridge
We will play grab-*** when our ***** are up for grabs, after picking
off scabs where snipers stood, on a roof, as pink powder puffs ****
Let us play grab-*** where our ***** are up for grabs, after scraping
off scabs as snipers would from the roof as powder-pink puffs puke
Witch, I've moved on, my sub-zero, hypothermical, steel-brassiered
witch ***, so hoist up your lard ***, waddle out & ******' get over it!
Do not fault me for stiffening my tip's nip into a scary pose because
I picked strips of ****** paw prints 'cross Laredo's landscape of my
prairie rose, without trimming the glued-on nails of my 7 hairy toes
Sixty streets we could pave with a ****** in my blender circling me
for days, chilling with 8 Mile 'Troit *****-homies who call me Dave
I want my ******* to be much larger, but not as big as a tow boat or
a barge or the Titanic, or the Love Boat or a warehouse garage door
To enhance 2 ***** I'd made drawings in 1 sittin' for Vietnam vets,
who said that the V.C. can be defeated in 10 years, L.B.J. permittin'
My passions are: 10 daily epilepic seizures, pimping my ** *******,
telling lies about Hillary, Honduran flag abuse, hobbling & limping
because I am incapacitated & loyal, after burnin' out #12 heater coil
NOW THE WORLD HAS COME BETWEEN US

She lay still
(perfectly still)  

eyes wide open
like a doll’s.

Her husband
lay beside her

“eyes wide shut”
(the phrase came to her) .

She smiled secretly
to her self

imagining he (Tom
her husband)  

was “the” Tom
Cruise.

“Mmmmm! ”
she relished the thought.

“Mmmmmm! ”
she cried aloud.

“Australia! ”
she said as if answering

a question
in a quiz.

The stain growing
from his head

resembled
(for all the world)  

“Australia! ”

There was no need
to phone a friend

or go for
50/50.

“Australia! ”
she said decisively
(so sure of her self) .

“Hey...it’s ok! ”
the stranger bending over her

told her.

She believed
in the voice

in what the voice
told her.

It was warm
and husky ‘round the edges

like her Daddy
when she was little.

Her knee
pained her.

“God...” how it
pained her.

“What’s your name...love? ”
the voice cajoled her.

She had to re-focus
to make the voice visible..

...lights...coloured...
...flashing lights...

dancing
like a chat up

in a disco
under a glittering ball.

“Oh you are handsome! ”
she told him.

“I am indeed! ”
the ambulance man agreed.

“Alan Handsome...how
did you guess? ”

She felt herself
blush to her roots.

She turned her head
looking at her husband’s head

the stain that was
Australia

had imperceptibly become
South America

then a badly blurred
early map of the world.

Then she closed her eyes
and the world went away.

*

Both my friends survived this you will be pleased to know. This was related to me over tea and biscuits when she was dandling her new baby on her knee on a particularly sunny morning that was all innocence and sunshine. I didn't write at the time but the story sunk inside me and fought its way out into this telling after tunnelling through the years and years to reach the proper brain cell that would put it into words...and a synapse later that horrible night found itself trapped in my words.

The title comes from Hank Cochran's MAKE THE WORLD GO AWAY...she used always sing her own words to it and this is what was going 'round and 'round in her mind as they were having a row before the crash. It was the Jim Reeves version she liked best.

— The End —