"shavers" poems
March in the streets
But I urge you beware
They’ll still butcher the sheep
With the arms that they bear
Private properteers part with
No slave cropper’s share
So this Northern aggression's
Like Freeman’s red scare
All the colors of wind
Through the head-shavers’ hair
The Guevara adventures
These pigs wouldn’t D.A.R.E.
The Arabian knights
In the grand wizard’s lair
The denaturalized dreamer’s
Recurring nightmare
Of the Stalingrad ghost
Still witch-hunting like Blair
The projects to the precincts’
New modern welfare
The post-trauma disorderly’s
Empty screen stare
The savages they thought
Were waaaaayyyy over there
The debt clock ticky tock
In the heart of Times Square
The 1st world problem-children
Who commonwealth care
Because some barely EAT
And we’ve so much to spare
But these cowherds still like their calves
Medium rare
And the bulls try to sell you
Their laissez-faire snare
Till your trapped in a minimum cage’s
Last prayer
And the only escape
Is upgraded software
Like automaton autobahn’s
In disrepair
In this fascist facade’s
Fragrant breath of fresh air
Just as toxic as stocks
Of the mock billionaire
So I shock ‘em like Tesla’s
Bolt-action Voltaire
And I leave it to you
To go **** it out there
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 6:27 AM UTC
Banded around personal favours
Telling lies about love and war
Running up your leg like electric shavers
Ecstatic on the ceiling, then crash on the floor.
Different friends for different reasons
Hit the bottle and it will provide
That drunk, that feeling, those bedroom curtains
One sole goal will override.
Out of sight, out of mind
Wasted hours within desperate days
Throwaway sentiments of the midnight kind
And another heart is smashed to pieces, and always.
Is there no end to misery?
Seems falling in love is a ****** crime
So it's headlong into reality with a massive shove
Heart pumping **** through a hole in a dove
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 7:38 AM UTC
“Do it
Do it
Do it.”, the shadows say.
So bright
Yet eerie
Palms sweaty
Heart crashing
Leg shavers are my enemy
1
2
3
5
7
13
Handmade vents of pain
Sweet Release
Clean up the mess
Memory lost
Go to bed.
“Wake up.
Wake up.”
Is it time to start again?
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
single blade single chance both sides can cut,
double edged sword with one handle,
lather round and around,
lather up,
lather down,
in a matter of degrees,
the wrong ones taint white bubbles
and soft peaked foam to red,
one pass down,
one pass across
one pass if you
must, go against
the grain,
remember your reducing beard,
and though it feels weird
to say, your not shaving skin,
but saving it.
Take your time and get
to know your face...
the only brush you will have,
is ....not with death
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
You think words can’t hurt
Or reign down from the skies
I’ve red little handbooks
That say otherwise
I got history’s vengeance
Packed mean at my side
Cruisin’ free like Zheng He
In that Normandy Tide
Got these war orchestrators
Class consciously mute
Guess these urban invaders
Can’t handle Pan’s flute
In the jungle you feel it
I’m stalking my prey
Scalpin’ tix of head-shavers
From **** CIA
‘Cuz I spy with my eye
A bomb-dropping peace keeper
And wake up the crowd
Like a Soviet sleeper
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 2:28 AM UTC