"geezer" poems
Bunga Bunga everywhere,
a powerful man with silly hair
seduced a girl too young and scared,
was married too but didn’t care.
Corrupt and feared!
Bunga Bunga sounds like fun,
a swimming pool and saucy sun,
an Egyptian that was on the run
Or, under-aged Morocun
Who ****** the boss!
Bunga Bunga ***** and *****
coffles of women to choose
and buy and grab and ride and use,
with confidence
and so much to lose,
but why didn’t he lose?
Why didn’t he lose when it was on the news
and hundreds of thousands of people accused
him of scandal and incompetence?
He never revealed his conscience
or any remorse for play boy antics
so far removed from his pedantic
stereotype as a political leader,
more like a ****** wheeler dealer,
pervy old ***** geezer,
over cologned,
greasy,
heavy breather;
machinating falsifier;
misogynistic **********
He prized a Ruby above the rest.
Bunga bunga, what a pest...
she leaked his private fetish fest;
poor Silvio, he tried his best
to hide the bribes and bets
and ****** and drugs and threats
but never could care
what was right and
what was fair.
Could only care
about the colour of his
**** hair.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
i love peperoni
i love the madams sconey
it tastes like gold
even though it ain't that bold
my favourite meat it ham
ham is my jam
everyone loves pizza except for that old geezer
yolo
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 6:34 AM UTC
Where, oh where has this money been?
It's been up to London to buy me a woman.
When you'd had your pleasure, what else did you there?
Took in a live show, some sights to enjoy.
When you had seen, what did you then?
Went home to the wife, a yarn to spin.
Did you not waste such hard-earned cash?
I need the excitement, the seedy thrill.
Where, oh where has this money been?
Changed hands in a back street for needle and syringe.
What was then done to inject some feeling?
A little ****** just to keep me going.
But what about AIDS and ***
It's one of those things that won't happen to me.
How do you finance such expensive tastes?
Sell stuff to kids at the going rate.
Where, oh where has this money been?
It bought me a meal and a little something to drink.
How did you earn this financial gain?
Begged it off some geezer down the Embankment.
Why are you out here sleeping so rough?
It's a long tale of women, gambling and drink.
What of these others with whom you share this door?
Just poor bleeding kids with no ******* jobs.
Where, oh where has this money been?
It bought me a contract with a few back handers.
And who did you bribe for their deceit?
Oh, it wasn't bribery, just a little commercial grease.
What will you build to make your mark?
Another block of flats, fully air-conditioned.
On what in the past is your empire built?
Prostitution, gambling, and a few tons of drugs.
Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC
I had the funniest dream the other night
I was doing something with paintings in the dream
I was picking them up and looking at them
I was in a public place, there was other people around
In the corner of my eye I could make out this girl
She was sitting on a table talking to another girl who was sitting down
She was a Goth girl, a real life Goth girl
She had these big laced boots and the fishnet stockings
She had necklaces and jewellery and the black dress on
She had the black eyeliner and very pronounced lipstick
And she had her hair done in a funny way that I didn't particularly like
But I can't remember now to describe (maybe it was short or shaven a bit)
Now I wasn't staring at her, I was only regarding her clandestinely out of the corner of my eye
It's like I was saying "Wow! There's a real Goth girl
I'd never met or spoken to a Goth girl before
Suddenly it's like... it's like she notices me for the first time
And she starts watching me... she's looking right at me
Now I'm a bit chuffed by this...flattered
I'm wondering why she'd be interested in an old geezer like me
Anyway just then I decide to glance at her pretending I've only just seen her for the first time
For a moment our eyes they meet
And y'know, she slips me the sweetest smile I've ever seen in my whole life
It's so warm and endearing/welcoming, open and innocent.. so cute
It's like she's saying "Hello there you, I'd love to get to know you"
Me! I don't know what to do, I'm blown away,
Gulp! I'm all at sea and I'm floundering
But I got to do something... so I kinda smile back at her and give her a little wink
Then I quickly look back at my paintings
The next time I dare to look over she's right there, right in front of me, this fabulous creature...in all her wonderful terribleness LoL
It's obvious she wants to make herself known to me
It all proves too much though... I chicken out
I pull out of the dream
I guess... I'm only a Shy Boy really.
Nov 2, 2023
Nov 2, 2023 at 1:33 PM UTC
Of all my misnomers,
Mistooks of arrogance,
To think I could career careen
A life
in poetry,
Extra pressure of the
Broadest of a narrowing sujet,
the scripting of poesy
on the restricted topical
of only love poetry
Must have been punch love drunk,
When that notion crazy stung
My cerebal,
Gored discor-ed cortex,
Probably just another
Post a Loving,
dreaming scheming moment,
Or reading a Shakespeare sonnet,
Or
Midst the long lonely pauses
somewhere,
*(S)under the rainbow,
tween teener and geezer,
and
Everything in between*
made myself a poet of a restricted diet
not "eating " for days at a time
for love comes and goes,
frequent departures much more easygoing & common,
than regularly scheduled arrivals,
easy go, not so easy come,
what was I thinking of?
what a she-muk,
talking about cutting your nose off
to spite your face,
Jul 20, 2025
Jul 20, 2025 at 8:13 AM UTC
Okay,
It goes like this you see.
10pm, on a late thursday evening. I was sweating like a ****** in church. I grabbed my armbands and turned on the shower. It was cold as ice to the touch, but begun to warm up eventually. Thank god my wife remembered to turn the geezer on or else I was going to slap a ***** create waves of flesh on that ugly *** face of hers.
Anyway.
After stripping down to my birthday suit, I popped on some shampoo and spreaded that **** in my hair. Creating a burning sensation, tingly, like ants crawling in my head.
Suddenly I was smacked like an unwanted child by the smell of burnt toast in the air,
with the shampoo still sitting in my hair.
I turned around and right before me, something was coming out of the plug hole, like something out of a b-rated horror movie.
Looking like my wife's homemade cooking, **** was alive, and then it lunged at me.
I tell you, if it was not for those Tom Cruise movies lecturing me in the art of total *** kicking, I would be a dead naked man with armbands in a tub, being eaten by the unholy guacamole.
You gotta believe me,
when I tell this story,
This was not all in my head,
You can't just write off what I have said.
I know it must sound insane,
But a mexican's lunch crawled out of the drain,
I beat it's *** like a drum,
like Lars Ulrich at a metallica concert ,
and sent the **** back down the hole it crawled out of.
The devil wanted to bring me down to the deep end,
It is a good thing I bought my arm bands.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
A cup of cold branch water,
triple filtered, extra dry.
Bring it to a rolling boil-
in a moment you'll see why.
Pour it into ice cube trays
and place it in the freezer
This recipe is tried and true-
obtained from an old geezer.
Wait two hours, then remove
the ice cubes from their tray.
Notice they are crystal clear,
never cloudy cracked or grey.
Place some in a six ounce glass
making sure that none are wasted
then add a single malt and sip
the best ice cubes ever tasted.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 6:31 AM UTC
What's wrong with you?
Who do you think you are?
Look, he thinks he's tough,
he thinks he knows everything
Seriously who does he think he is
Do you think you're Prince Regent
You think you're a hard man, yeah!
How dare you, how ****** dare you
You wanna mess with us, do you, big man
Don't you know who we are!
We the business, we're more than you
We ****** rule the ******* ****** world
We rule your *** we make and bend the law
We take and we give, we are the ****** ********
We block and you're finished, no ****** **** no life
We come from the South, East, West and ****** North
We are gangsters and we got the contacts and the contracts
When we say jump, you ask, how ****** high should I jump
Look this ****** small geezer playing with us
How dare you making us feel frustrated and stupid
We'll got all kinds of mind **** ready to do your head in
How dare you not play ball, a woman set up to wind you up
Now we're not getting inside gossip and juicy stories to use
Now all the women waiting eagerly to hear bedroom gossip
are all disappointed cause you are not following the ****** plot
We can't bend your head and frustrate you and stress you out
You ****** small man, you're not even tall and you wanna diss us.
Who are you you little ******
We spend all our valuable time taunting you
We try and depress and torment you and you laugh
What do you want, do you wanna mess with People's Power
We can make you disappear if we want, do you know that big boy
We put all kind of moves on yer and yet you struts like a king
We harass your ****** mind and try to demoralize you
Listen sunshine you better stop being such a ******* smart ***
You think you ******* know everything, making us look stupid.
You better watch out, you better watch ****** out
Cause ain't no Santa coming for you, we are the Rulers
And we hate you and your big ******* **** you ain't got *****
You are costing us ****** money, time and energy, you effin ****
Do you know some of us sit all day thinking up ways to get at you
Do you know some wait in the ****** cold to watch you all day
You think its easy having to think up nonsensical things to write
Or making up all kinds of scenarios all because of you ********
You think you are superman, Atlas and Einstein rolled into one!
Do you, George, Answer me George.....answer Me!!!
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
I met this geezer down the frog
Who said mate you gotta have a butchers
So we went into the rub a dub
And I couldn't Adam and Eve it
There before me mince pies
Stood a treacle all sugar and spice
She was a bleeding treat
For this London boy with sore plates
For I had been walking for quite a while
But now I was beginning to smile
Watching her with a pigs ear in me mitts
Boy I was chuffed to bits
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
Don't tell me to smile
Exhortations to "cheer up" will be ignored
You don't know how far you're stretching me, do you?
Your head still in the clouds of safety where imbeciles call out to each other
Listen. Listen, do
We're exploring the heaviest things in the world
Too heavy for Sysyphyus to haul
I'm that kid you can kind of see through
The one on the left corner
With the cool bootleg Pink Floyd t shirt wrapping his thin torso
He's got a box of Playboys beneath his nightstand and he's barely 14 years old
He reads and incorporates that garbage into his pre-adolescence behavior
With dreams of visiting Plato's
Retreat
Picking up some bunnies using some of the better Party Jokes
His expertise at 'lingus and 'latio are as well perfected as can be without having actually performed them
But he could sure bust out the ******* Philosophy and would have held his own with the old geezer who wrote it
But he was only 14 and nobody seemed impressed with the amount of ******* culture he'd consumed
They weren't letting him in the cluuuub
Your ****** right he didn't feel like smiling
But he wasn't bored
And he didn't feel too serious
He'd let it slide this time
*to be continued
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
Halloween oh Halloween
Dashing through the streets
On the last day of October yeah
Are all the kiddies playing trick or treat and the rougher kids eggs an old battalax's house
And then when this old geezer comes out, the rough kids are as quite as a mouse
Halloween yeah Halloween
It's a great day yeseree
You see people dress up as vampires and witch's and ghosts
And for blood they use cherry cheer
Halloween yeah Halloween
It's a great day to scare everyone
You see you can pretend you head is cut off
The old fogies are going for a walk
And some trick or treaters are coming down dressed up as 1 ghost
2 witch's and a very ****** clown oh yeah and as they passed the olds
They said how's it going cobbler
And then the ****** clown said
I will tease ya if ya don't give me a dollar
Halloween yeah Halloween
These scary kids are having so much fun yeah it.'a fun scaring old fogies yeah for money oh yeah it's fun
Halloween yeah Halloween
Celebrate it now
Celebrate the day that likes the idea
Of dressing up as scary monsters yeah Halloween is cool
Halloween yeah Halloween
It's on for young and old
You see dressing up as ghosts and witch.'a really makes us glad
Halloween yeah Halloween
Come on everyone
We give each kid a wonderful treat
To share and share a like
Happy Halloween dudes
Sent from my iPhone
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 3:03 AM UTC
The Church and the Pub:
I.
No One was Before the Blessed Sacrament
Between the Hours of 8:00-9:20, 10:20-11:45, & 1:10-1:50
-the parish bulletin
And yet we are always before something:
A pint of beer, a tv football match
A darts game where the plastic feathers fly
Miss Swivelly-Hips in her kinky-boots
But still, the small red lamp alone in the dark
Shines on for us, for Miss Swivelly too
Throughout the careless hours when we neglect
Duty for the fellowship of the pub
“No one was before the Blessed Sacrament…”
And yet we are always before something
II.
“No One was Here for the Weekly Darts Tournament”
-the old geezer in the corner
And yet there is much to be said for the pub:
A pint of beer, a tv football match
A darts game where the plastic feathers fly
Miss Swivelly-Hips – but we have mentioned her
That fluorescent beer ad’s a kind of red
The old geezer’s cheeks shine, especially when
Miss Swivelley-Hips flirts him for a beer
There is an honest joy in fellowship
“No one was here for the darts tournament”
(Maybe they were before the Sacrament?)
Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 3:51 PM UTC
originally it reads as:
**** i am drunk: do sudoku drunk!
what a ******
x x x x x x x x x
x 7 6 x 5 9 3 x x
x x 8 x 7 x x 1 x
x x 2 x 1 x x 5 x
x x x 3 x 7 1 2 x
1 6 9 x 2 x x x x
x x x 4 x 1 7 8 x
9 4 x 7 x x x 6 x
x 5 x 6 x x x x x
now i really want to learn something,
but i don't seem to want to...
the end result?
3 1 5 8 4 6 9 7 2
2 7 6 1 5 9 3 4 8
4 9 8 2 7 3 5 1 6
7 3 2 9 1 8 6 5 4
5 8 4 3 6 7 1 2 9
1 6 9 5 2 4 8 3 7
6 2 3 4 9 1 7 8 5
9 4 1 7 8 5 2 6 3
8 5 7 6 3 2 4 9 1...
bu there's a narrative to mind...
the ) game,
half an hour's worth of game after inserting
the first six -
(a
b) matrixes -
the theta-phi debate crosswords and blind-spots -
but the narrative goes like this:
a. 7 1
1 5 )
x 7 1 2
"zooming in with a nibbled into 6",
b. 5 | 5
7
1
x
x 2 x
x
x
x
c. 2nd 5
6 x x 4 x 1 7 8 x (5)
d. 1st 5
5 x x 4 x 1 7 8 x
9 4 x 7 x x x 6 x
x 5 x 6 x x x x x
e. x x x x x 2 x x x
x 7 6 | x x x | 9 4 x
x x 8 1 6 9 x 5 x
f. x x x
x 5 9
x 7 x
x 1 x x 5 x
3 x 7
5 2 x
4 x 1
7 x 5 7 8 5
6 x x
(more than or haczyk, or háček
a hook: in saying: oi! geezer!
traffic that 'un!
but still more than or less
than in Copernican lingua?
dunno... well: that's two smokin' barrels' worth
of info for the inauguration -
'cos' pretty face over 'ere was half a wit's know-churn
off a ***** 'now what i mean?'
they necessarily say it in sprechen glutton Danzig
so you look smart, and not like some artful dodgy
podger:
n'es pas? twinkle tweezer ****
oi right and that ****** off came with the touch
of a knuckle: 'cos' i wasn't preaching trigonometry:
nor was i ******* kidding.
down the east end they call us Vlad-sodden
impaler imperialistic -
after the little debacle we 'av a laugh and drink
a bottle of *****
then we do the rickety chance of engaging in
baptismal fire with the Jamaicans -
or so you know. *well, wouldn't you believe it,
look how far being called vermin gets ya!*
all the way to Buckingham Palace me says!
and some dared to say: ransack Sicily.
blah ha ha... your's a tongue on the leash!
g. x - 4? / 3?
5
7
1
x - 4?
2
x
x
x
h. 6 2 x 4 x 1 7 8 5
6 2 x 4 9 1 7 8 5
6 2 3 4 9 1 7 8 5
(breakthrough point!)
i. 7
x
1
5
2
x
j. x 7 6 1 5 9 3 x x
k. 7 l. 7 m. 7
x x 4
1 1 1
5 5 5
2 2 2
x 3 3
8 8 8
6 6 6
9 9 9
n. 6 2 3 4 9 1 7 8 5
9 4 x 7 8 5 x 6 x
x 5 x 6 x x x 1 x
o. 6 2 3
9 4 x
8 5 x
p. 6 2 3 4
9 4 1 | 7
8 5 7 6
the 1st square: 6 2 3
9 4 1
8 5 7.
2nd square:
x x
3 x
x x
x x
1 x
x x
7 5
9 4 1
2 6 3
7 8 5;
q. square no. 2 anti linear:
4 9 1 4 9 1
7 8 5 : / v. 7 8 5
6 x x 6
ergo
4 9 1
7 8 5
6 3 2
3rd square:
7 8 5 7 8 5
2 6 3 | 2 6 3
x 9 x x 9 1....
subsequently: 8 5 7 6 3 2 4 9 1
hence: 1 6 9 5 2 x x 3 7
": 1 6 9 5 2 4 8 3 7
": 2 7 6 1 5 9 3 4 8
(interlude):
4 x 8 x 7 x x x(?)
r. x s. 7 3 2
2 x x x
4 1 6 9: 3
7 2
x 4
1 7
6 5
9 1
8 6
9
8
t. 1 then: 1
7 7
x 9
3 3
x 8
6 6
2 2
4 4
5 5
then 7 3 2
5 8 4
1 6 9 then 5 8 4 3 6 7 1 2 9
then 4 2
5 9
7 8
1 3
6
u. 7 3 2 x 1 x x 5 4
then
6 5 4 9 1 8
1 2 9 | 3 6 7
8 3 7 5 2 4
then
6
9
3
8 8 4 6
7 1 5 9
4 2 7 3
1
5
2
v. then 3 1 x 8 4 6 x 7 2
then 3 1 5 8 4 6 9 7 2 0
then the crescendo:
9 7 2
3 4 8
5 1 6 !
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC
I only shoot to **** my food
Not for pride or pleasure
I hunt the meat we all can eat
Not for a mantlepiece treasure
But late one night I was lying in bed
And someone was at my door
I jumped to my feet like a ninja in heat
And crawled across my floor
It was dark inside my livingroom
But I could see a silhouette
The next thing I saw took my breath
It's something I'll never forget
A deer was wearing a ski mask
His antlers poked out the top
I jumped to my feet as fast as I could
And yelled, "Bambi you better stop"
He turned around and began to charge
I screamed for my wife to get back
He pulled a knife and cut my arm
With another sneak attack
He chased me down the hallway
The bathroom my only hope
But when I tried to get inside
He lassoed me with his rope
He tied me up and robbed my house
My wife was under the bed
He went through all of our dresser drawers
Her underwear on top his head
He finally left, the house was a mess
There were hoofprints everywhere
He took the remote to our color Tv
And even our silverware
Before he left he pointed and laughed
And called me a crazy old geezer
But my wife is scared and cannot rest
Until I put him in my freezer
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 5:52 PM UTC
London is an onion.
Not one of those big, brown juicy globes
you can buy in packs of three, from Tesco,
No, an earthy, shrivelled relic from an old geezer's allotment,
With trailing fronds and a few infestations.
If you were to take a bite, your eyes would smart and your body rebel with a cough, a shudder and a wheeze,
But moments later, a smile would be playing round your lips,
Such a sensory adventure, though not exactly pleasant, can still be savoured,
And you'll remember the taste forever.
Londoners are weevils, hiding in the layers.
Outer, inner, some of us worm our way between them all.
Me, I tend to head for the heart of the thing,
Soho, Southwark, the inner sanctums.
I sometimes venture nearer the surface, the outer edges,
But too close to the unknown, and unfamiliar air,
And I start to pine for the centre.
You can work between the layers,
But the many skins are tougher than you'd think,
Better to burrow down, find a place to sustain
The appetite of a hungry little grub.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
A silver pipe strikes me on the left-hand window,
breaking the dullness of these grey hospital walls.
Granddad, you’re due for your umpteenth colonoscopy,
and here I am thinking about how your IV’d wrists
strip away light like a prism.
They bandage the hurt leaking from your eyes
and let rainbows clog up your insides.
(Is that why you can't go, you old geezer?)
(Smile a bit more, will you?)
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
Elena receives a secret message from God
"Keep quiet and listen to Bach, kid"it said
She was so cross with God at first,naturally,
"The old man is cold, I won't listen to his
new commandment" she averred
as she wanted to annoy Almighty as much
as, a retaliatory measure.She felt good,
pleased, she fell silent for a long, long while.
Quickly she realized she obeyed His word
and by that time her ranting and raving
had fully come to an end.
"Oh! my God!"
in astonishment she thanked God,
for making her feel better though she was
thoughtless and horribly blasphemous.
"What a crafty old geezer God is"she grinned.
yes,her defiance was intentional,but it was
as God willed,how intelligent His designs are!
"Oh! Bach! she remembered his words
she ran to fetch a record.Hey presto! it's there
right at the top of the heap, as God willed, of course,
while 'Christmas Oratorio' of Bach sweeps her off her feet,
Elena feels elated, as if the hands of devine, embrace her tight.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 9:06 AM UTC
I only shoot to **** my food
Not for pride or pleasure
I hunt the meat we all can eat
Not for a mantlepiece treasure
But late one night I was lying in bed
And someone was at my door
I jumped to my feet like a ninja in heat
And crawled across my floor
It was dark inside my livingroom
But I could see a silhouette
The next thing I saw took my breath
It's something I'll never forget
A deer was wearing a ski mask
His antlers poked out the top
I jumped to my feet as fast as I could
And yelled, "Bambi you better stop"
He turned around and began to charge
I screamed for my wife to get back
He pulled a knife and cut my arm
With another sneak attack
He chased me down the hallway
The bathroom my only hope
But when I tried to get inside
He lassoed me with his rope
He tied me up and robbed my house
My wife was under the bed
He went through all of our dresser drawers
Her underwear on top his head
He finally left, the house was a mess
There were hoofprints everywhere
He took the remote to our color Tv
And even our silverware
Before he left he pointed and laughed
And called me a crazy old geezer
But my wife is scared and cannot rest
Until I put him in my freezer
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 2:10 AM UTC
The old man
A broken down factory
Sagging within the crumbled graffiti of his skin
Sits and stares out the window
An anachronism
Out of place among the smooth
Modern hospital walls
The man sits in his wheel chair
The thrown of landless kings
Carrying all the memories of his years
Like a net
Hauling in the silverfish of his stories
Though many have swam away
And in his hazy recollection
He remembers the feeling of bare feet
On summer grass sprinting
The shotgun of a ball exploding
From the barrel of his bat
The hush of a spring storm
As it dresses him and some lover
All the shades of wet
Staring out the window
The old artifact
Wiggles his proud toes
Following them back to
The night clubs in Chicago
The handshake of the president
And the feathery wings of jazz
In his feeble arms he catches
The kick of a rifle
The whisper of a bullet
As it reaches out to bury itself
Into the lullaby of his bones
The dirt of war in his teeth
And the smell of burning hair
But most of all he looks back
On the empty picture frame
The days that have blurred into
Darkness and smoke
What did I do on all the days
I have forgotten
This question hangs like the last petal
Still clinging to the branches
As the winter wind grows bold
It is unfair he thinks
And looks out among
The dogwoods in full swaying dresses
That line the hospital
I am a barren husk
Of bark and bone
But this world blooms so brilliant
Lean back in his chair
The old man thinks
I am so happy I got to see
The trees laughing with the wind one last time
And smiles like a toothless sunset
His soul swallowing and swelling
On all the beauty he has ever gathered
Behind the cameras of his eyes
So full of life that he can no longer hide it inside of him
It must go dance with the blossoms
When the nurse found him
The tears had not dried off his cheek
His mouth frozen into a smile
Like a sunbeam burning through the clouds
A single dogwood flower folded in his fingers
As she looked upon the hallelujah of his death
She wondered
What secrets did you take with you
You old geezer
What was so beautiful
You smiled so hard your heart broke
When you saw the other side
Did it have dogwoods
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 9:04 PM UTC
Constant beeping
Stifles many's sleeping
Get up! Time to go!
Don't be late for work!
Even arriving a minute tardy,
Makes the boss berserk.
Suit, check
Briefcase, yes
Clamor on to the bus
Cup of Joe, got it
Manila folder, find it!
Gee, the boss'll make a fuss
When you think you're in the clear,
Uh oh... rush hour is here!
Stuck behind a geezer, ******
Acceleration pedal, jam it!
8:01...
Oh hell, you're done.
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 4:23 PM UTC
Take a group of chimpanzees
used to swinging through the trees,
and sit them down at keyboards in a row;
lots of paper, lots of ink,
lots and lots of time, I think,
and what the theory says I’m sure you know.
Yes, along with all the junk,
all the gibberish and bunk,
somewhere there’d be the full works of the Bard:
As You Like It, Cymbeline,
Richards 2 and 3, the Dream,
though Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, might be hard.
But I’m sure the little blighters
would get on fine with *Titus
Andronicus*, The Taming of the Shrew,
The Moor of Venice (that’s Othello),
the other Merchant fellow,
and Antony and Cleopatra too.
The Winter’s Tale would hold no terrors,
nor The Comedy of Errors,
and Verona’s Gentlemen would turn out right;
Love’s Labour might be Lost,
or it might be Tempest-tossed,
but All’s Well That Ends Well, even on Twelfth Night.
Lear, King John, and Much Ado,
Henry 4, parts 1 and 2,
Henry 5, and 6 (in three parts), Henry 8,
Troilus, Timon, Measure for Measure,
Pericles (a neglected treasure)
and how Romeo and Juliet met their fate;
all the Sonnets, and the ****
of Lucrece* (typed by an ape!)
and if they worked for ever and a day
they could fit in Julius Caesar,
that Coriolanus geezer,
the Wives of Windsor, and the Scottish play.
I grew more and more excited –
even thought I might be knighted
if I could be the one to make it work.
But to realise my dream
I had to try a pilot scheme,
to prove I wasn’t just a reckless berk.
I bought one chimp from the zoo -
didn't have the cash for two -
and gave him a typewriter, just to try
for a short while. Well, a fortnight
was the time-scale that I thought right.
You see, I’m quite an optimistic guy.
Now everyone who heard
of my project said, “Absurd!”
when I told them of my striking new departure.
“Get a chimpanzee to type
the works of Shakespeare? Oh, what tripe!”
Still … he did produce the works of Jeffrey Archer.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
I'm Forty Three
Lines form on my forehead and neck,
lines form on my upper and lower deck.
I'm middle aged without a plan,
I'm thirty something, I'm an old man.
I'm forty three, no idea what I want,
going blind and needing bigger font.
Forty three, gotta get away,
I've been straight, I've been gay.
I've gotta get out of this place,
my parents want me out from the crawl space.
I've gotta thirty something brain
and an old geezers heart,
I blame the dog, whenever I ****
Took forty three years to get this far,
still listen to cassettes, when in my car.
Don't always know what I'm a saying,
Uncle Sam, I keep on paying,
not gonna tell ya, what I'm a weighing.
***** swing low from the left and the right,
silly kids always ask, Mister was there always light.
Every bone in my body cracks,
rolling in sand, I leave wrinkle tracks.
I'm in the middle age of my life,
I've been a boy, girl, husband and a wife.
I'm thirty something and an old geezer,
I listed to Elvis and also Weezer.
I'm forty three and I like it,
I travel around with a Depends kit.
Yes I like it, I love it, I like it, I love it,
I'm forty three, forty three, forty three,
and all this yelling made me ****
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
So many lovely, young girls
brimming with despair and despondency.
Makes an old man sad.
You are like buds that can't blossom.
Casual *** attempted suicide,
drugs, alcohol, broken hearts:
all accrue to the self-aware.
Self-awareness is a great gift,
but acutely painful
to the very young.
Never use a man to define yourself.
Only disappointment lives there.
Men aren't all that smart
or valuable, you know,
and can be easily replaced.
In 40 years, you won't remember
his name.
None of this is new.
The trick is to find
your way to survive
and do it no matter what.
On the other side of suffering
is life, and perhaps more suffering.
You don't need bunnies and rainbows,
you only need yourselves and time
and toughness and belief.
Go ahead and blossom.
Make an old geezer smile.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
I ran away and started a new journey
Caught myself in a peculiar story.
Been to different places and found myself startled
Obscured, grotesque, melancholic, and bleakly mottled.
Meeting different people, but never got the chance to stay
Mind fickle and heart let astray.
But then, I understand now how it feels
Of these surrounding silent hills.
All those stirred up feelings gave me nostalgia
But aren't you in spasmodic sequence of amnesia?
Alas, reality throws me up in all that regression;
It teared up my obsession.
Then there goes a series of flashbacks;
It occured to you all of the setbacks.
And oh, I remember a certain old man,
Told me a something about a plan.
With conviction, he said, "Maktub, it is written;
Those who can see and listen,
One's fate has been predestined
To those who is good and sinned."
"Young one, it is about time for you,
Know all that is true
And seek to discern for your true happiness.
"Well, I say "That's intense!"
Then as I pondered on this old man's wisdom,
**** that old geezer is just random.
But what he said did make sense,
If BMW is better than Mercedes-Benz.
Though it may seem easy for him to say it,
My mind went into a frog's "ribbit!"
How vague is it to listen to such hearsay;
The horses neigh and the hearsayers, nay.
Life is giving me much more farce
Though the sarcasm is all so scarce.
Oh, I give up cause it's better to be at home
With my friend Gary the gnome.
Now I know it's better to return
Than travel further the world that is too stern.
It's all but you I see is missing
In a picturesque abode with me, kissing.
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 6:57 AM UTC
#7 from Geo-Bestiary
O that girl, only young men
dare to look at her directly
while I manage the most side-long of glances:
olive-skinned with a Modigliani throat,
lustrous obsidian hair, the narrowest
of waists and high french bottom, ample
******* she tries to hide in a loose blouse.
Though Latino her profile is from a Babylonian
frieze and when she walks with her small white dog
with brown spots she fairly floats along,
looking neither left nor right, meeting no one's
glance as if beauty was a curse. In the grocery
store when I drew close her scent was jacaranda,
the tropical flower that makes no excuses.
The geezer's heart swells stupidly to the dampish
promise. I walk too often in the cold shadow
of the mountain wall up in the arroyo behind the house.
Empty pages are dry ice, numbing the hands and heart.
If I weep I do so in the shower so that no one,
not even I can tell. To see her is to feel
time's cold machete against my grizzled neck,
puzzled that again beauty has found her home in threat.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 7:47 AM UTC