"flics" poems
Bam! Bang!
WHAMP! Scream!
There's a leg out in the street
There's an arm against my door
A head is rolling down the way
No!
It's just a soccer ball!
It's just a bunch of kids at play'
EVERYTHING IS STILL ALRIGHT!
Everyone is still at peace
IN AMERICA!
It's just MEDIA stories
Driving everybody crazy
AMERICA!
We
Are so fortunate to live in what will be known as
THE HONEST GENERATION!
THE MOST COMPASSIONATE OF ALL NATIONS!
THE GOD CHOSEN BANKING INSTITUTIONALIZED
CORPORATE MILITARIZED
DRONE SCRUTINIZED
POLITICIZED
UNPROTESTED
TOO FEARED TO BE DETESTED
place
EVER !
--
BELIEVE!!!
--
So
I
Won't listen to the hippies
With their communist tricks !
..
I'll just go make me a fatburger
And
See
What's on net flics!
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
A famous "Barry Hodges" poem!
I was strolling along the Normandy beaches
In the close vicinity of Caen one day
With a very tasty piece of arm-candy to hand
When I found a bleached human femur on the beach.
Oh dear me, what thoughts this conjured up in my brain
As I imagined whose bone it might have been!
Perhaps some pathetic soldier boy landing in forty-four
Who got slotted by a gallant German gunner,
His eyes feasting on the sacrificial cannon fodder
So foolishly supplied for his target practice.
Then, as I grabbed my lady friend's juicy ****
Causing her to turn and sink her tongue into my earhole,
We sank onto the sands in order to sate our lusts,
(enflamed by a very delicious meal of moules marinières
and a bucket or two of well-chilled Muscadet sur Lie)
I thought, what the **** does it all matter?
This is now, and that was then, and this old world
Has become a much nicer place nowadays;
But how mistaken I was in that fond thought;
Oh what an idealist I am in a world of woe.
For, all of a sudden, a contingent of fat dwarfs appeared,
Totally naked apart from their luminous Uncle Sam hats
And the Stars and Stripes hanging from their arseholes;
How I marvelled at their disgusting shapes
(and how surprised was I to find their genitals
were of normal measurements and thus
rather intrusively large by comparison
with the rest of their miniature bodies).
O dear Lord and alleged Father of Mankind
Forgive their horrid ways verily and forsooth.
With a whoop, those demented military retards, [see note below]
The famous 118th battalion ****** Marine veterans,
A contingent of whom emerged from a portable toilet
(which must have been a bit of a tight squeeze),
Chopped my girl-friend up with their bayonets,
Whereupon I crapped myself in terror and pity,
Before retrieving the purse from the eviscerated corpse,
Realizing that her PIN number was still useable
Until 'les flics' discovered her unfortunate remains
After the shore ***** had partaken thereof.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 8:08 AM UTC
Bouazizi, conduisant l’avion simple roue,
S’aperçoit de ces flics et entend leur sifflet.
Il songe à s’en voler, ce garçon maigrelet,
Craignant se retrouver bientôt sous les verrous.
Hélas ! il ne peut pas. Il pense sur le coup
Qu’ils seraient plus rapides ou bien que ses bons fruits,
Légumes et L'avion seraient vite détruits
Après son escapade, alors que d’aucun coup
Ou vol quoique ce soit il ne serait chargé.
Où est ce qu’il trouverait de quoi faire et manger ?
Le sang froid garde-t-il, sachant que nulle part
Il n’y aurait de refuge : chez eux il y a la faim,
Des tortures, et chez lui il serait sans rempart.
Il attend ou le fouet ou aux douleurs la fin.
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 4:06 AM UTC
Bic flics as you
place me
between your fingertips
Guide me to your lips and
INHALE
Taste me on your tongue
Before you cast me out
In a cloud of smoke
And watch me disappear
French inhale
As I swirl around you
Bring me back in
For round two
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 10:26 PM UTC
This road to recovery is quite long,
at times I feel so far gone,
life would rock in a band,
friend's lend a hand in quicksand,
had to learn this fact the hard way.
Failed the city,
got struck by an arrow,
the plot took an olive twist,
thought I had thick skin,
I didn't check my marrow,
I became blind to the sparrow,
so I pirated my chest's treasure,
the problem was not the problem,
hard to integrate broken parts,
deceit hides in the arts.
Playing catch-up,
lost the sauce,
cos now the defects are patent,
tan wears off away from the sun,
would be pointless to dress it up,
sin's proved real and so has satin.
Maybe I was shadow boxing,
fighting on the wrong hill,
perhaps this dark night isn't so serious,
maybe I should just chill,
should I ruminate those net flics?
Glad not to have a credit card,
my ledger would not balance,
life is turning to a heath,
some melancholic saga,
acted like a rugrat,
you could hear me going gaga,
played facebook like poker,
seems I played the joker,
was supposed to be a man,
became a cimbwi no plan.
Went ghost to being holy,
I didn't see the flying phantoms,
the wrestle is not a royal rumble,
man's never been hot though he looked warm.
right here before your eyes,
either a warrior will rise,
or another king will take an impending tumble.
Django's unchained gotta pick up what remains.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 8:35 PM UTC