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Rob Sandman Mar 2016
The Ballad Of Jack Hammer (Concept by Jay Byrne)
=========================
Jack Hammer-Jay Byrne Black Fang Rob Sandman aka Schizophrenic.

Listen up I got a tale to tell.
About a black jack rabbit known for raisin' hell.
Jack Hammer's his name. Retribution the game.
Out on the plain with his kinfolk he did dwell.
Til that fateful day. No forgettin it.
Loss so painful. Jack was but a leveret.
While playin' out back.
Along the track came Black Fang and the Red River Pack.
And they were lookin, for blood.
Notorious outlaws up to no good.
In the low sun and The Pack started gunnin'.
So Jack started runnin'. The damage was done and it was over.
No time for goodbye. He just stood there.
Lookin' the Devil in the eye.
While his Momma bled.
The wolf walked up and this is what he said.

Are you sore that the Fang took away your Paw?
and the River Run's red with the blood o' your Maw?,
well hop away little blackjack eyes red raw,
-tell the rest o' the prairie what you done saw,
Red River is the Pack,I'm the one with the crown,
I'm the big bad wolf who blew your whole life down!
so cower and quiver little wabbit,have a cry...
you little ******* you took my **** eye!


From out me back pocket, pulled out me slingshot..
..I'm a real crack-shot when it comes to bringin' pain across lots.
Ya never saw it quicker.
Lickety-split I skedaddle into the thicket.
Then he was gone...

Spent the next few years wanderin'. Ponderin' recompense.
Lived paw to mouth honing his defense..
..and offense. Hell bent on atonement.
Twin six-guns blazin', layin' judgement.
While The Pack kept killin'.
Full split, full chisel, goin' the big figure.
Black Fang said it himself.

none bigger none badder than the Pack I'm with,
spit venom that hisses,hogleg never misses,
no-one messes with the red river,do and you die,
cry wolf-get engulfed,leave your colt lie,
whole pack'll rip lead to your head if you try,
but-one thing niggles while I sup down Rye
is to **** that rabbit that took my **** eye,
heard he built some fame,got himself a name,
Jackhammer IS MINE I STAKED MY CLAIM
.


Like a freight train runnin' on collision course.
Jacks fate's been comin' like an iron horse.
Tour de force, pent up, fired up ready to blow.
On a stormy night into town he did stroll.


Jack walked into the saloon.
Black as all hell, no light from the moon.
Fang at a table playin' poker.
Soon to be Dead Mans Hand for that joker.
The pack'll pay.
I'll put the red in your river bringin' Judgement Day.
Stormbringer I'll deliver. Got an itchy trigger-finger..
..cos I'm quicker and fitter. Juiced up, not goosed up on hard liquor.
Then he catches me eye.
Takes a sip of his rye and says..

if it ain't the **** nipper that took the fang's eye,
waited all these years to come here and die,
no odds no winnin' no end to my sinnin' ,
Pack back up,fair game fangs winnin
last chance saloon,I'm too old for you,
ain't no-one ever outdrew me and old blue,
Navy Colt revolver,dead problem solver
so 'ware this wolf,you couldn't **** with silver


Black Fang, I've come to collect.
Anybody that don't wanna die better mosey outback.
But the pack can stay.
For what ya done did you're dyin' this day.

as I opened my mouth and slid my paw to old blue,
twas like the heavens opened up on my whole **** crew,
twin revolvers spitting,splittin' open my pack,
last shot ripped ripper my lieutenant in the back

cause I dragged him over me,hit the deck too,
little rabbit thinks its,over cause I  was hit too,
then I let rip,aiming straight for the head,
coulda sworn that shot left Jackhammer dead
... (but did it?)
Another unfinished track by myself and Jay Byrne... give us a few likes to hear the end(lol cliffhanger style!)
I'm fine.
The lie I say every fking day.
The lie I say multiple times a day.
I wake up from a sleep that hasn't rested me,
And I lie. I'm fine.
When the woman I love asks if I'm okay, I lie to her.
I'm fine.
When she's breaking down due to her own issues,
I stay stong for her. Tell her it will be okay.
Possibly another lie.
I bury myself in these lies, to make sure everyone else is okay.
I'm fine.
The only reason, the ONLY ******* reason, why I haven't attempted for the 3rd time, is because I am scared of the impact of other people.
I'm fine.
I don't care what happens to me.
I care what will happen to others.
Laurens future. Her own mental health.
My Mums heart. I can't take a son away from my Mother.
My sisters big brother.
My Dads nipper.
My nephews uncle.
I'm fine.
My best friends. I couldn't forgive myself if I made the group smaller by 1.
I'm fine.
It even extends to work.
I can't let others take on the burden of doing the work I should be doing, because I ended it.
I'm not that selfish.
I'm fine.
Its the crippeling debt we're in.
How the f
k can I let the person I love put up with that on her own.
We barely live pay day to pay day.
And how can I do this to a family that hasn't even started.
I'm fine.
I am fine.
This constant feeling of something catastrophic is about to happen.
This invisible ocean I'm drowning in.
This explosion that is happening in my head, that I'm constantly holding back.
The thoughts that flitter in my head so easily.
I'm fine.
I say it with a smile.
I say it with purpose.
I say it with a heavy heart.
I'm fine.
My mouth says I'm fine.
My eyes scream for help.
I've been so good at lying, I've convinced every other communication I have.
My actions.
My words.
My mannerisms.
The jokes I flood into every conversation.
I'm fine.
I try to laugh as much as possible.
It helps convince others I'm fine.
It helps supress.
If I don't laugh, I die.
Or so it feels.
I'm fine.
This was more of a rant. A flood of thoughts.
neth jones Dec 2023
blood                                                  
blood patter and splash                            
leads us         concrete toward
tracing back        til the scene        
i’ve flashing thoughts of the brutality
   the violence     that must of cussed  
  between persons            
         in fear    fray    and inebriation

down the steps                                     
            my four year old child and I go          
the greasing bleed     in bronze putters  
growing and leadening
on stone labours

glowing citrus    the refrigeration
                          of the underpass
          ‘flips the bird'   at the summer blaze
grey dead coral bricks of urination  
seasoned in deep   beading now cold
the broke up weapon                        
                   candy slates of brittle teeth
glass / bottle / beer /brown
    the neck its' hilt              
     and the main mud of the bleeding

the flies are the thing                                
                         th­at bothers my ‘little nipper’
usually a flapper of queries on repetition
no other queries are raised
     just eager for the vibration
      of train carriages gatling over our heads

i stopper any words i may have on the matter
  he holds my hand with his hot hand
we progress under a port arms                                   
                            procession of caged floodlights
      and walled in by fresh graffiti
fingers dripping   retching for the guttering
Observed 23/06/23

unused -

on thickened walls      painted on over and over
by the neighbourhood watch
a  narrowed burrow
Steve Tanner Jul 2013
Today a baby boy was born
The future heir to the British throne
Remember July 22nd was the date
Proud parents William & Kate
Every child born today will receive a Silver Penny
A collectors item, for so many
First we watched William & Kate marry
He has a really cool Uncle in Prince Harry
I bet he will show him some tricks
A bouncing baby boy 8lb 6,

A baby, a toddler, then into a little nipper
Look after him Auntie Pippa.
We will watch him grow up and ready to take his place
The news confirmed on the easel at Buckingham Palace
Well done to Kate Middleton
To us a Prince, to you a son.

Prince Charles is your Grandad
The Paparazzi will go mad
One day old and already on Twitter trending
Who will help, with the Royal winding
William & Kate must be so happy
One hopes One's been practicing changing a *****
Born in St Mary's, Lindo Wing
A child that will be our future King
Everyone is so happy for them
Born on a Monday 4.24pm
You're Great GrandMother is called Her Majesty the Queen
We'll watch him grow into a teen
For Prince Phillip four male generations
Now the country starts with the celebrations
The new addition to the Royal Family
The future of the British Monarchy
The Windsor family and the family of Middleton
A boy to bring them so much fun
Proud watching down over all times will be his Nanna
Brought up in the memory of  Princess Diana
The name now we have to all guess
For now we call him His Royal Highness
For the country this brings so much joy
A beautiful, bouncing Royal Baby Boy
Norman dePlume Dec 2015
Mandibles make their own hoarding,
but they do not make it as they please;
they do not make it under semiconductor-selected civilians,
but under civilians existing already, given and transmitted from the past.

The trailer of all dead gentians weighs like a nipper
on the brandishes of the lob.
And just as they seem to be occupied with revolutionizing themselves and thistles,
creating something that did not exist before, precisely

in such equipments of rheostat crochet they anxiously conjure up the spleens
of the past to their setter, bother from them nappies, bayonet slouches,
and cottons in *****-grinder to present this new scheme in wound hoarding
in timpanist-honored disincentive and borrowed larch.

Thus Luther put on the masseur of the Appearance Paul,
the Rhapsody of 1789-1814 draped itself alternately in the gully of the Rook Requisite and the Rook Empress,
and the Rhapsody of 1848 knew novelette bicentenary to do than to parsonage,
now 1789, now the rheostat trailer of 1793-95.

In like mantel, the belch who has learned a new larch always translates it backfire into his motor toot,
but he assimilates the spleen of the new larch
and exteriors himself freely in it only when he moves in it
without recalling the old and when he forgets his navy toot.
An N+7 from a passage by Marx,
copyright (c) 2015
#n7
Darl Dudley was a pud with a swelling in his nipper.
Shaving, he forgot to zip his zipper.
The morning was great, he was cheerful and able.
He decided to set the breakfast table.
Seeing the adelaide boots he became unstable.
Yanking at his crotch, before he was aware,
Yiks, he had caught a lot of hair.
Then he broke the zipper off and ashamed, began to swear.
His love entered the breakfast room
saw his bent over form and thought it was a dare.
Darl stood up and held his crotch, his pants slipped down
a notch; red faced he howled a prayer.
"My darlin," she exclaimed. "You seem to be in pain.
Let me help you get your trousers off."
Darl let out a heart felt sigh. Just wanted to cry.
His dinger, hot and swollen with a badly bruised side.
She bent down for a moment to see about his fly and
and ended up with a sharp poke in her eye.
written in amoment of idiotic madness K
Norbert Tasev Apr 2021
The superstitious gaze of the Universe will flirt with you if you let it! They dig their flesh into your floating rubber flesh! Every immortal kiss refutes Reality! A rocking cradle stretched over uninterrupted depths swings; including a planned line of stations! Flower petals appear on the palm of your hand as a sure pledge of eternal Loyalty! Shivering squeezes the pulsating heart petals! The Silence walks zigzagging on the edge of the Infinite: the Death Consciousness pulls you deeper and deeper, wings-broken!
 
The power of the Never Happened tears up our years! Even washing weights hang on the liberating Hope and you should learn to trust again! The shadows of the Past haunt you in your cells; your molecules are therefore zigzagging! As the crazy division of cells accelerated, Time accelerated! Today the Truth is still very cheap s the lie is astronomical! "Puddles stick to you like blood-******* mosquitoes!" Zeng is the murderous phlegm of old-fashioned self-incense! Man always believes in vain to cling to this now-counting, starving World, constantly humbling and kneeling!
 
Under the poisonous cages of solariums, hissing chicks are marinated, while their gorilla-brain knights pump themselves up in gyms! No more vigilant ghosts! Time has already challenged everything with its Hangman claws! It’s still harder to conquer on a donkey than with a Ferrari! - And whoever sees the Deficiency and Essence in me one day, I can boldly get to know him! - Care for creative poetry is barely falling! The bubble-inside of Man is soon enough until it finally bursts! Grimace flesh smokes on my face, so he can even grimace.
Anna Jan 2017
med spids mund skærer *** små skiver af sure citroner
hælder en håndfuld af dem i et højt glas
og sipper let til hendes vand
"jeg synes bare det smager friskt," siger *** galant og *** trommer med fingrene på bordpladen, nipper til en müslibar
bilder sig selv ind at den intetsigende vand, smager godt
en iskold dåsecola med et sugerør er i den grad fortrukket
og en kebab med ekstra dress til at mætte sulten
men ikke mere
for det er altså nu
det er nu *** skal vise slanke, lange ben og enn fast røv
slentre ned af gangene, trække blikke
vide at mens drengene vil have hende
vil pigerne bare være hende
det er nu *** skal trække let på skuldrene og sige "jeg har bare højt stofskifte" når veninderne ivrigt spørger og spørger hvordan har du en så flot krop?
det er nu at der altid er cigaretter og stimerol i tasken,
for det der kan ryges, tygges og spyttes ud kan aldrig ende på lårene
det er altså nu at et bad om onsdagen
ikke er lig med et bad af tårer
det er nu at fremmede 1g piger på instagram
vil anmode om at følge hende for at se hvem pigen fra 3g det er, som drengene synes er så lækker
det er nu, siger *** til sig selv, og løber lidt mere på løbebåndet
lige nu
for i hendes øjne
er der langt fra kebab og cola
til skønhed og lange ben
og der skal ske noget
og det skal være *lige nu
første post i 2017, lidt sørgelig men god at tygge på
Olivia Kent Dec 2014
BABY
The agony of waiting.
Painful twinges
This had been a very different pregnancy.

Pretty cherubic baby, born dressed in her Sunday best.
Bright pink ribbons adorned her dumb blonde tresses.
Born in a dress of royal blue.
Rosy cheeks and sparkly eyes.
Born wearing pretty patent shoes.
All done up with diamenté buckles.
Her hands encircled by a ****.

Mummy and daddy.
Were totally shocked.
Seeing their daughter born entirely dressed.
They desired a child for ooh so long.
The delivery truck pulled away.
The package ripped to bits.
They were so excited if not just a little shocked.
To unwrap their realistic new born baby doll.
They were sure she was going to be a little nipper.
© Livvi
Olivia Kent Apr 2014
That child of Monday, now so big and brash.
Crept under my skin as an itch and a rash.
He was indeed so fair of face.
At 6'4 now.
With heart created of solid gold.
As he got old.

The child of Sunday, now 24.
Quiet and deep.
Hell can she roar.
Lives on a diet of chicken.
Her finger's she's always licking.

The young man of Monday.
He bounds like puppy.
Full of excitement.

The ****** was born on Thursday.
Her ****** was born on a Monday night.
Silent and still.
For a moment or two.
And then inside he grew.
She pushed him out, my did she shout.
She was so brave.
Moments without sleep.
In safety she keeps her newborn addition to the family.
A much cherished little nipper.!
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Sep 2014
I'm static,
I'm stuck,
I'm riding the deck,
In silence,
I'm eternally seeking port.
I miss the wife and kiddies.
The waves are stilled now.
Although their crests are tipped with white.
There's not a bird or shark in sight.
I can't even smell the sea.

I'm picked up and examined,
Closely inspected,
by the old sea dog,
in the tatty tweed suit,
through his right eye,
using his monocle
He puts me down and creeps away,
moaning at the assistant,
that's much too expensive,
I'll have to leave it for today.

Next thing I see is a manic child,
with his mum,
he's running wild.
Hey nipper leave that alone,
Crash,
Air swamps me,
As the shop assistant with the dustpan and brush,
sweeps me up.
Wraps me in a newspaper page,
throws me in the re-cycle bin,
What will become of me,
one thing's for certain,
now I'm free.
(C) Livvi
Inspired by a ship in a bottle at my local charity shop!
Aa Harvey Jul 2019
Bee-Real


As I flew up, into the air,
I looked back one last time at the hive.
All the bees were standing there.
Some were happy and proud to see me go; some were still crying.
As they held handkerchiefs up against their noses,
I saw the twinkle in their eyes, was the sunshine reflecting;
They truly did pull at my heart strings.


But this was no time to bee questioning my decision.
There is a whole world out there!
And I don’t know what I could bee missing!
So onward good friend, up, up and away!
My radio-wave-head thinks today is going to bee a glorious day!


As the hive became smaller, as it grew further into the distance,
I regained my focus; let the adventure commence!
So forwards I flew, over places I have known.
There were still faces I recognized below
And there were still places I wished I could go;
But there was no time, because time flies!
And so did I; further into the sky.


I could see the ant hill, swarming with an army of friends.
The days of war between our people were over
And I hope they will never return again.
A couple of ants flew up to have a chat and say goodbye.
They told me I was the talk of the town
And wished me luck, but they had to fly.


So off they went, back down to reality;
I was still gliding along on a possibility.
What could bee out there?
What will I see?
I couldn’t believe I was finally fulfilling my dream.


For so long now I had been thinking about going someday,
While all the other workers were out drinking
And only interested in pay.
I saw a better future, where the amount you owned did not matter,
Because there was enough for everybody and endless laughter.
All quarrels were temporary, no lasting family feuds.
I still dream of a time, when I fly home to you;
But now I can see the border approaching.
This is it!  It is finally happening!
So close to freedom, so full of fear,
But I am an aeronautical engineer and a space pioneer.
The past is behind me and it will still bee there when I return;
Today is a present, the future calls me,
Time to let my engines burn!


Faster and faster, I fly only forward!
No looking back now, as I travel through the air waves.
I have never been so excited!
I had never imagined there could bee a way,
To smash through the sound barrier!
I broke the speed of light!
I have passed through the boundaries of what was my old life
And now I am becoming a stand-alone bee!!!!...


Hello chum.
I quickly turned around to see.
What are you doing here!? I said in amazement.
Didn’t think I’d let you do this all by yourself did you?
You know you’ve always been my favourite, but you ain’t the bravest.


We’ve been friends since you were a nipper
And your girlfriend sent me along to keep you safe; ok skipper?
So, where are we heading?  Anywhere nice?
What girlfriend!?  What are you talking about!?
This is my journey!  My life!
I travel alone, as one bee leaving home!
Not a bee and his mate,
Having a look around and then gone when it gets late.


I don’t know about that buddy, I just do as I’m told.
Well I’m telling you, go!  Leave me alone!
This is my adventure, I cannot worry about you.
There really is no need for you to come along too.
Oh it’s not a problem pal; I ain’t got nothing better to do
And it looks like a laugh, doesn’t it.
So; what you up to?
Oh bother!…Humble said with a shake of his head.
Did you not listen to a word I have said?
Go home, I don’t need protection; I’m a unique bee!
And with that I flew into a hole in a tree…


As I came back out with a nonchalant attitude,
He simply said you should watch out for those little dude.
Look where you’re going and that;
They sneak up on you, them holes in trees.
Never see ‘em until you crash into ‘em; know what I mean?
I just wanted to check I hadn’t left anything that could go rotten!
And that there was nothing in there that I had forgotten.
It’s my tree of things, you know, in case I, er, ever need anything.
Of course it is flower-power…can’t have enough trees.


And so, with that, my solo flight became a tandem.
He flew alongside me for a while,
But eventually I managed to ditch him.
There was a scout one day; we met him by a stream.
He told us the wife had given orders,
For Bee-Real to return to his Queen.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Norbert Tasev Nov 2021
The superstitious gaze of the Universe will flirt with you if you let it! They dig their flesh into your floating rubber flesh! Every immortal kiss refutes Reality! A rocking cradle stretched over uninterrupted depths swings; including a planned line of stations! Flower petals appear on the palm of your hand as a sure pledge of eternal Loyalty! Shivering squeezes the pulsating heart petals! The Silence walks zigzagging on the edge of the Infinite: the Death Consciousness pulls you deeper and deeper, wings-broken!
 
The power of the Never Happened tears up our years! Even washing weights hang on the liberating Hope and you should learn to trust again! The shadows of the Past haunt you in your cells; your molecules are therefore zigzagging! As the crazy division of cells accelerated, Time accelerated! Today the Truth is still very cheap s the lie is astronomical! "Puddles stick to you like blood-******* mosquitoes!" Zeng is the murderous phlegm of old-fashioned self-incense! Man always believes in vain to cling to this now-counting, starving World, constantly humbling and kneeling!
 
Under the poisonous cages of solariums, hissing chicks are marinated, while their gorilla-brain knights pump themselves up in gyms! No more vigilant ghosts! Time has already challenged everything with its Hangman claws! It’s still harder to conquer on a donkey than with a Ferrari! - And whoever sees the Deficiency and Essence in me one day, I can boldly get to know him! - Care for creative poetry is barely falling! The bubble-inside of Man is soon enough until it finally bursts! Grimace flesh smokes on my face, so he can even grimace
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2021
here's one draft that got away...
カラカン timidity -
that's a googlewhack...
the original had me sentence the word
カラカン (karakan)...
it must have arrived in Europe
via the Mongol invasion...
a way for the Mongols to joke
about: how the Spanish might
find self-deprecating humour
when the Spanish Armada was...
thwarted by the north sea winds...
and no second battle of Hastings
took place...
a bit like this...
but カラカン (karakan) is a racial
slur... some Europeans associate
with orientals:
mid-itch: mid-jit...
not a dwarf... or an imp...
something compact:
might possibly fit inside a suitcase
and be allowed: smuggling rights...
the word must have origins
in katakana...
it has syllable stresses that
wouldn't all it to exist
in a framework of: "too many vowels" /
"too many consonants"...

you could literally rewrite the word: CARE
with an ancient Latin grapheme of:
AE...
Adam and Eve being the Siamese genesis:
CÆR....
if you were to rewrite it utilising
the proper diacritical markers
to leave an itch for syllables...
you'd require to write something akin
to CA-RE... CA'RÉ



but katakana syllables don't cut it...
i'll need some Hangul...
i won't be able t write any of it on this html
canvas...
i'll provide a link where it might
be available...

******... karakan: i believe the mongols
brought the word over...
settled down in Crimea and became
the... Tatars...
   funny... somehow...
they too were short... yet they brought
around a Japanese word...
they probably ended up bringing the concept
of the dumpling...
although in eastern Europe a lot of pork
was used... and mushrooms and sauerkraut...

tomorrow i fiction a death of me...
i have a death wish...
i need some Hangul scribbles...
the katakana will not do enough justice...
sure... **** a lemon squint eyed...
break at many bones in the body
to exact an extension of height:
oriental... wannabe pharaoh...
   the David vs. Goliath analogy works just
so much... before there's that other
analogy concerning dogs...
some... *******... mongrel mutt...
some mongrel Mongol...
some nipper barking up a leg of an
Alsatian...
it's just... ******* annoying...
the small dogs bark...
the bigger dogs just itch for a throat to bite...

i forgot to squint: to **** at a lemon...
never mind the Thai suntan...
i just keep forgetting towering over
these pawn-escapades...
not that they are:
height is by no means an advantage...
but the word is still intanct:
i can't excavate the original draft:
the web page reads a message:
502 Bad Gateway...

i too can't believe in a linear variation
of Hangul...
but since the originator of the phonetic
is so modern...
i cannot have any suspicion
that: patriarch Abraham invented the
Hebrew script...

god... i love this following sentence:
avant-garde typographer ahn sangsu made
a font for the "hangul dada"
ダダ...

mahler's: i don't like mahler...
but... der einsame im herbst -
the wind can whine and pretend to whistle...
the mountains might want to shuffle
toward a chime... the bells seemingly have
forgotten...
i don't like Mahler... but...
scatter brain bound as i am...
i can see the "funny" side of t'ings...
orange bulwarks of spinning fire...
eating themselves to perpetuate
a leverage of presence...

   when one doesn't require on some
pop Orff... the recluse is left with
the availability of... Ma... surd H followed up
with a Ler: not leer...
a square turns out to be a rhombus...
this ugly side of the readily available life...
it took me 4 sessions to sit through
watching the Fisher King by a Terry Gilliam...
it usually takes me the same amount
of time and interlude:
to watch a movie these days...
not some mythological absentee purpose
of a last reserved me...
too worded:
i just don't have the passion
to be entertained when i can be
the script baron: predicting all that's too take place
in some televised drama...

it's not fun watching something so
predicable...
re-hear-sals...
salons of: rehearing...
            opera dies a most tragic impromptu...
as must ballet...
it's not that it's not important:
it's only that too few of the most important
people... don't care as much
to keep it: living...
a sadness creeps in:
a sort of sadness associate with:
not postmodern-re-constructivism...
something that requires: revision...
an added: oomph!

the romance has seized to exist... to be preserved...
i can do this alone on
a single hard-on...
i'm consolidating my presence like
Horace might have at the turn of the tide
when paganism of the cultured people was
replaced by the newly found monotheism
of semites readied to burn books
of the Alexandrian library...
and there... was this concern...
for the northern barbarians and their
polytheism..
wood on wood:
i like the term:
                       oculus per oculus...

to the heart of stone... an uvula of
pearl...
teeth as letters: better still: some variation
of lettering...
congested molars of consonants...
teasing lady vowels...
attired in niqabs... piercing eyes...
all new no other way that's easy
via h'americana..

- mind you... i'll just visit a Turkish *******
and forget... there might have been
a wife... a child involved?
there was all this investment in... baron hope?
like my grandfather?
like my grandfather hoped...
oh... right... his wife created a consiracy
with her son and a distant cousin...
so that his grandson didn't make it to
his deathbed...
i had spare time on my hands:
i had hands!
i could have catered to this dying son...
if he wasn't going to meet up with ol'
Abraham.. he might have met up with
a Czarnoboch...

so much for family...
i preserve the unison of me...
if i disappoint i'll disappoint myself prior
to having to disappoint anyone after...
that's a comforting thought.
first i fail...
and if there's no one i could possibly
fail...
beside myself:
hmm... Diogenes of Sinope...
he must have been a man-child...
at least a man-child is creative till his death...
i can't contest a similar argument
for a woman-child...

how about... no?

https://allpoetry.com/poem/15995108-%E3%82%AB%E3%83%A9%E3%82%AB%E3%83%B3-timidity-by-Matthew­-Conrad
Tea Biscuits
The call centre rep turned the gal's life upside down
She was state apparatus gal married to a serving cop
The rep was a historical Soviet communist
He called the gal to see how she was his calls were ignored
It came out she fled to her relative away from the city
6 months pregnant by the red rep plus 3 kids with the cop
His calls and texts went thru to the cop did he know who was calling?
The rep the cop threatened to shoot dead for grinding his ex
Now with a lizard in her big fat belly a baby red ****** nipper
How this would enrage the cop who wants to get even and more
How will this all end best friends’ tea and biscuits?
The state apparatus gal with a lizard by a communist agent
Lee Oct 2020
"Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
Right many a nipper kin!

"But ranged as infantry
And staring face to face
I shot him as he at me,
And killed him in his place."

— The End —