"gretly" poems
Bite the bullet.
A muddy boot,
A ****** boot
In the pimpled
Face of Some kid;
The barking
Goes on.
And they ask
Why I do not
Care, and I
Just shrug;
The barking
Goes on.
Hunger in the
Streets and in
Their media-
Rotted minds;
The barking
Goes on.
Faces split at
The seams, eyes
Peering At the
Scenes and I wonder;
The barking
Goes on.
The youth they
Snort and cuss
And the joints
Are passed around;
The barking
Goes on.
Birdshot in a
Brother's eye,
A blind dove
***** its wings;
The barking
Goes on.
And they ask
Why I do not
Cry, and I
Just shrug;
The barking
Goes on.
The poor get
Even poorer as the
Man on television
Shouts and moans;
The barking
Goes on.
Droopy eyes lost
Their spark as the
Fire dies and we
Linger in the dark;
The barking
Goes on.
A youngster jailed
For a bag of hash,
As an old man rubs
A girl half his age;
The barking
Goes on.
And I bite the bullet,
And I bite the bullet
And hail the beard
And hail the stars;
And the barking
Goes on!
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
Memories nag at me
Like some pebble stuck
In my left shoe that I
Cannot just get rid of;
It keeps on poking at
The heel of my mind
And I twist and turn
In hopes of some
Sort of relief but
The memories
Merely rattle
In there with
Annoying
Consistency
That could only
Be compared to
That child you see
At the supermarket
Clinging tightly to his
Sad mum as she walks
Around making sure she
Buys the things they really
Need or else daddy won't
Like it one bit, but that
Child clings on and
Screams for dear
Life and I shake
My head and
The pebble
Rattles
On.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC