Marlo was a poet deep down to the marrow in his bones.
Yes, his vocabulary was crude and expressively challenged.
Only one guy knew his secret. The nerd from apartment 3b.
'Right' said Marlo to the diminutive Dave.
'You are going to write my poems for me! Or you are dead meat!'
Marlo was a Skinhead from Bromley and well versed in the art of bone breaking, skull smashing, soul destroying, and doling out harrowing hidings to the likes of young Dave.
He could swing a mean chain with the best of them,
'What about your Doc Martens? My job is to polish them isn't it?'
'Don't be a smart ***! Marlo said
'I just found out you write poems and they're not bad'
'Now you will be writing mine and embellish the words to sound like me'.
'No one will believe it Marlo, you will be a laughing stock!'
Marlo lifted Dave up to his face and took out a razor blade.
'Don't ever say that again or I find a new boot polisher'.
'What is the poem or poems about?' replied Dave in a choked voice
'The Skinhead life and it's merits' said Marlo placing him down
'What about 'the Tao of Skinheadism?'said Dave
'What the hell does that mean? Are you having a laugh?'
No! No! This is what I mean. I need to write the poem with you.
Okay! Marlo shouted
'I have an hour free tonight! One hour and you better be on song!'
'I'm meeting the lads to collect the money lenders stash'
'Will you be using a pseudonym?'
'You cheeky *******! How dare you? What does that even mean?
Marlo went red in the gills and prepared to give Dave a going over.
'It means a fake name so no one knows it's you!
'You know till you get famous and people discover your talent!'
'Ohhhh' okay then, we will talk about that and all'
'Now stay here till I get back and get those boots polished'
'I want the purple shining!'
Marlo walked out then and Dave had a nosey at his book case.
There amongst the ******* magazines was a well worn book.
'My time in Cell block 19' by Nailer Thomond
Dave saw some scribbled notes then.
'I don't believe it?'
Here were a number of poems and Dave sat down to read them
They were the work of a pyscho and shocked him to the core.
Suddenly the door burst open. It was kicked in violently.
'You! Marlo you ***** **** *******!
'You're coming with me!'
Dave was dragged out screaming 'I'm not Marlo!'
'You lying *******!
Ten streets down Marlo was kicking in another door.
'You're behind on payments, you *******!'
The screams were horrific as Marlo worked his stuff.
In his mind he looked forward to that hour with Dave.
'After I finish with you, I guarantee you will never miss a payment again'.
Ten streets down, Dave was forced into a car and poems were the last thing on his mind.
'What are you going to do with us?'
'Do with you?'
'Well, well, well! we have a thinker amongst us?'
' You will do what we tell you! We will do the telling!'"
'We will do the kicking!'
'We will do the thinking!'
It was late afternoon. Three young boys had wandered around a low wall of an old delapidated graveyard. Unwittingly they had uncovered a lair of drunken skinheads. Cider bottles lay unceremoniously strewn about the tombstones. Cigarette butts grew from the soil in abundant numbers. Some of the headstones were scorched from the flames of a bonfire; burning near a shrub where the roots spread like crippled arthritic fingers coming up from the dank soil.
Tom looked in terror at the features of the face on which the mouth threatening him was offset to a broken nose. He recoiled at the sight of the teeth in that cavernous filthy mouth.
One of his teeth were capped in a putrid yellow veneer. His lips thin and vicious. The vaccuous look in the skinhead's eyes were evident of drug abuse. His face was skeletal and close to death.
Suddenly Tom was struck across the face by a sovereign ringed fist.
The blow knocked him to his feet and it was all he could do not to cry out in terror. He received a kick to the side of his head and his mind reeled with the conviction he was about to die. He was pulled to his feet and lifted to the face of his tormentor.
'You scummy little *******!'
'What are we going to do with you?'
'You and your mates are going to build a den with all the debris about you. Start collecting them broken slabs and bring them to the fire!'
A roar of laughter came from the bonfire.
Five other skinners looked on in hallucinatory amusement as Ned Marlo gave the eight year old kid a kick up the ****.
All this time young Tom's friends Martin and Robert watched as Tom was further brutalised and got a frightening going over.
They were terrified and mute with shock. It was dusky now and a cold breeze chilled their tears which poured from their horrified eyes.
Getting slowly to his feet Tom started gathering old stones and slabs.
Dates stared back at him from the headstones.
William Crawley died 1882
devout husband - succumbed to typhoid
God have mercy on his soul
Tom would die in this very graveyard. He was sure of it. The skinheads were out of their heads on drugs. One of them had taken out a razor blade and was waving it in front of Robert.
Now it was dark. A moon watched intensely from a point so far away it was powerless to intervene.
Peering up from the stoney ground in curious wonder were the eyes of a very large rat.
Then more eyes as if they had come to witness this horrible scenario.
Instinctively and with great courage for a young man, Tom grabbed them in his arms and hurled them at the startled skinners.
Then he ran for the gap in the wall as if his life depended on it.
He ran and ran and ran like the hounds of hell.
Martin and Robert ran like prize Olympians behind him.
'Come back you little *******!'
'You shower of *******, come back!'
Still the young boys ran and even the Devil would not catch them in that moment.
The grave of William Crawley suddenly subsided and Ned Marlo fell into the typhoid ridden abyss.
It ain't no mountain high-__++
enough heart stickers 2 pluses
But----she's beat like someone's
playdough high setting
diamond in the rough
High level of mercury felt tough
Like the good will hunting
Let's fulfill our dream with
More snorkeling high hopes
Big escape important titles
Such a Sperling report high crime
she got high hopes
A kiss is not a kiss
Piano many riddles
The delicate mood became the
Joker her low jeweled belly bottom
He could just pinch her
His paint when smoke gets in your long
Eyelashes the temptation her eyes
How he can move
her schoolgirl crush
The holiday sweet baked sun cookies
He was lady looker starting
fresh like a rookie
All loving to the end of her earth
The painter Gogh the fine feather brush
Could lift smiles like hot gold rush
Way below I see something
My eyes became the hidden lake,
My body got exposed to the shining light
The Knight high tempo until the daylight
But there is a high price that's all
I could take almost my blindsight
Her body elevated
She sighs the law and order
The highest authority constitution
the movie camera high action
Higher force of her revelation
Like her Crescendo Moon
Hot body stimulation
But she became to see the
lower state of mind taking the
High hopes she touched the
The Searching her lips
piercing she losing her grip
What a hot Australian dude swap
Kicking around in his boots the
rain puddles of love hurdle
The high raft of the tortoise turtles
My heart lies the crescendo
Such a high tempo she screams
Opening up high five
my exclusively yours
Hot five emails to find got
so excited until etc--
A mountain of broken hearts
Luv her favorite journey high
living totally fab
Those hubs and cool London pubs
On the edge of ecstasy but my dark
midnight pup labs jump up the vibe
The earth stood like a still life
The darkness and the red moon
Everything I thought of came true
The high sounds of the clock
Striking at midnight
I felt the coach driving up the
Godmother not the fairest of Bees
They were swarming high seas
And left me on my scared knees
Some leftover Crescendo of honey
His chinny chin Big Foot beard-man
High waist lady gold bonds
Howling wolf complex mixture
of her body curves too many
Like something never failed
Seeing the beauty rainfall
Like the crest of
Tsunami all the selfie's
MeMe high tea hours
100 feet he could
of very well
wanted so much
to kiss her high-cheeks
But finding the treasure
Italiano tempered the wicked concert
Concerto higher up temptation
High tempo hot soup
Louisiana red hot tabasco
You gotta have her gumbo
Going to the Mountaintop
Mr. Concerto meeting
Mr. Dumbo what an
burger the "Clicker Bar"
The stars eating away
The greens of her eyes
Living in a hut spitting
pits of olives
Spicy ladies of pimento
In young and restless town
She was sitting her name Sofia
High rise body elevated
The wicker chair (Loren)
Hearing a sharp squeak
of his shoe that is his affair
He was walking
He fired out pool shark
Like the Crescendo cafe all neck
out like giraffes to dusk at night
Two heads are stirring
better than one smooth
spread Jiffy butter
Enjoying their cappuccino
the flamingo dancers the bodies
sway together to be engaged
Licks of her envelope
He kissed up to her first sip
Hot mouth expresso
The Pacific high tempo soprano
the mountain can be terrific
Be more specific
That girl Marlo with the
higher latitude in St Thomas
it won't bring back
a love quicker
Our minds get slower
Using her useless hair blower
"Pacific Crest Inn"
Bathing on sun worshipping
What a star turning point
But lower and deserted on an island
Like smoking the sun up with a joint
the Apennines Italy like pennies for
The lust crest of her waving high
Surrender my love (Silverback)
Glitter silver high tent
Rainforest of Gorillas
Monkey *** swinging and surfing the
High society ladies what a fly-by event
High Apple Martinique the computer
Felt flooded like she could use a drink
Yes we have bruised bananas and
horn-blowers those outfitters
out of their minds towners
They never leave the crazy freeloaders
Shell be coming around your mountain
High tempo voice meet
Tatiana of the black crow plantation
Feeling the soulful E-Harmony
Coupling eyes of tears Seattle
Cows and sheep all stacks of hay cattle
Right now her salvation she needed
something lighter not exactly higher
The Sierra Nevada crest she looked up
She went back to her Mediterranean villa
Looking at her pearly white teeth
And said what is with all this crest
I have the best hours with
my crest toothpaste lower teeth
being brushed to the higher height of
my top mountain teeth
was my new birth
Is this high enough for your standards are low enough for your glasses on a link another link of another sort yes we have bananas like a rainforest of love the crescendo sipping my favorite cappuccino lets see if we could master some higher heights please don't be afraid of my word frights
As a younger man I sang so well still do
A well sung song can mend a broken heart
I taght dance ball room and also hand jive
Away back in early days loved it all from start
I had a thing about the clacking of high heels
Upon cement with frocks worn swaying so
I guess I had a thing about bed room eyes
So many beautiful memories back to I can go
But there's something I still miss was that kiss
Lips clinging on for dearest ever life back then
Slow and as if the last one upon earth each time
How I loved a bach moon lit kiss away back when
I loved a perfume women wore longest time ago
Called Blue Grass it had a way with me every time
I myself wore after shave called Joop or Jupe then
It too had an affect of romance seduction divine
I always had several suits made tailored perfectly
And Italian shoes Julios Marlo plus pums as to then
Dance an entire night away becoming part of same
Thoght those days and nights would never end
I remember being able to do the splits not anymore
Life was romance seduction even abandon some
Still got friends I made away back then somewhere
That would today bring a smile when life is glum
But above it all though the bricks of life might fall
I still do in all honest really still do ever so miss
The feeling That ran through me like loves lava
That ever lingering lip clinging longest loving kiss
terrence michael sutton
The OH your not leaving tonight you can kiss ..
— The End —