"shooters" poems
Why am I so weak?
Why can’t I be strong for once.
Why can’t I be normal?
Why do I live in a world of pain
This reality of truth
This realm of heartbreak?
Why do I live in a society where I fear for my life?
I fear the terrorists coming,
I fear the school shooters shooting,
I fear the threats that have yet to be known.
Why should I, or anyone
Have to grow up with this?
The constant threat of something coming,
The feeling of uncertainty when it come to school,
Wondering if I’ll be the next victim?
When will I be able to walk the streets,
Not wondering if I will get shot.
What wrong with today?
People ask.
Let me tell you.
I have to grow up
Living In fear for my life
I have to grow up
with the threats of terrorism
I have to grow up
Wondering if I’ll die today
I have to grow up
Knowing the world is falling apart
I have to grow up
Feeling as if there is always something bigger than me
I have to grow up
With no hope for a better world
This world is toxic,
I wonder when others will start noticing
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
The shortest distance between two points of travel.
The fastest method for achieving a result.
Quickest answer for a resolution.
Marrying equals.
All terminology meaning essentially the same thing; synthesis. That is what the two-party system is meant to be doing. It is the point of checks and balances. A check is a stopgap. A balance is a measure.
No one wants to ban personal firearms. No one wants mentally-ill people to own them. No one advocates violence by school teachers to assuage future potential violence. No reasonable person wants children to grow up in a police state school system. No American believes that State and Federal government can agree on what should be done in all states.
We will not be arming teachers. Nor will we be banning guns. There will never be armed guards at public schools. States and the Federal government disagree on so many levels there will never be consensus on change when it comes to this issue. So, change the issue in a way that offers a stopgap as a measure.
The President of The United States issues a proclamation that all land directly adjacent to the front of all public schools will be bought by the federal government at today's market price. That price will be fixed provided the states do two things. Use state eminent domain laws(every state already has them) to file a claim on said properties and assess the value thereof for the federal government.
Secondly, establish police precincts on said property.
Ask yourself;
"How many children would die if the local police were directly across the street from the school at the time of the shooting?"
And,
"Would Conservatives or Liberals be against this proposal?"
Also,
We should all remember that these shooters plan their attacks and would have to plan around the police being there immediately after they begin one.
Problem solved...
...and no one touched a gun(right) to do it.
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 3:04 AM UTC
psychologism, i.e. neo-racism, neo- due to it being without any collective ethnic collectivisation, best insinuated by marijuana users, grouping alcoholics with ****** sharp shooters; they think they have the moral high ground, but they talk jack sh-: medicinal marijuana is synthetic marijuana / ore without casual-use effects, it's not the sh- you put in your **** have a *** change and tell me about children suffering from cancer while you're at it: because those starving children of africa adverts... are really really working... knowing that the man in control of such charities earns over half a million a year - post-colonialism only really works while you have former colonial indigenous peoples nearby, then you can milk that ***** cow from the locals... make sure you think the nairobi international airport has a dirt runway and you'll feel all ******* fuzzy giving money to these companies... post-colonialism only works like that... import some former colonials to milk the former colonial whites into coughing up money & guilt... then watch the irish get leery with sarcasm at almost anything... and the scots gear up pride and become politically malignant... the good friday agreement? tony blair did as much as / avoiding-tax cigarettes smuggled from eastern europe west of the ural mountains exchanged in belfast... but geographic borders were never used in rhetoric in politics... because ireland was always further west than iceland: as oaths go... it was a neighbour of liberty iseland... with the true statue of liberty in a moulin rouge cancan attire, skirt up, flame extinguished - although ***** as hell: and in koranic reality, requiring a harem for her three holes.
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
in our
besieged republic
snipers are
popping up
everywhere
taking ***
shots
ending lives
with a well placed
head shot
active shooters
star in
world premier
events
jokers
rise like
dark knights
casting large
looming shadows
on real 3D cinemax
multiplexed screens
sprinkling overpriced
buckets of popcorn
with generous
dollops of blood
others
head back to
school
still ******
about missing
recess and
excessive
sentences
to detention
halls where
bullies tortured
scrawny inmates
with wedgies
and painful
***** twisters
they’ve
come back
to even the score
leaving
bullet hole
pockmarks on
Sharpie smudged
smart boards
declaring endless
summer vacations
for classrooms
of children
who don’t
give wedgies
and only dream
of soft *****
these
urban guerillas
are now working
to liberate airports
from the tyranny
of TSA agents
fulfilling
PATRIOT ACT
duties for
10 bucks
an hour
and
last night
the latest
active shooter
showed up at
the Garden
State Plaza,
-my hometown
mall of america-
mumbling about his
Grand Theft Auto
score, strung out
and crashing
from an unfilled
pharma addiction
script
he grew
up as a
Highwayman
in Teaneck
a former
classmate
working
at Nordstroms
said he was
a really good kid
he was,
one of the good ones,
he could have shot
some people
but the only
person he
shot in the head
was himself
legions of
police officers
surrounding the mall
stood down
grateful for overtime
milling about
in the flashing
red strobes
inhaling the heady
blue fumes
rising to commend
Bergen County
Blue Laws and
next Sunday’s
time and a half
active shooter
training day
Jimi Hendrix:
Machine Gun
Oakland
11/5/13
jbm
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
A picture's worth
One thousand words,
Yet there's only one word
In "Selfie?"
The "I" creates
One thousand shots,
So shooters
Do your worse.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC
Script
Zoom zoom goes the car with drug dealers
Being chased by the cops in a spotted deal
The exchange was spotted by the police
Who gave chase six shooters drawn
Firing at the fleeing BMW that sped away
Bullets zinged into it others were fired back
It was a right cowboys and Indians time
Just like a movie film with John Wayne
Who will win the cops or dealers?
It’s just like a films script but real
Sep 24, 2023
Sep 24, 2023 at 7:32 PM UTC
tootsie pops, pop rocks, rock candy
sweet tarts, smelly farts, war-heads, sour patch kids
reeses pieces, reeses stix, snickers lickers
fudge pile, chocolate smile, peanut butter bile, sugary style
baby ruths, almond joys, soy bean sauce, creamy steam
ill give u a payday, mayday, hay tastes good with parfai
milkyways stay gay to play games with sunrays
icing splicing with knife dicing
makes cakes, cook steaks, rumcakes
****** sprinkles, rip van winkle, diddily dinkle
gummy worms, germs impregnate firm, permed urns
angel food, carrots, pineapple upsideways
fruits, ***** parachutes, scooters, jello shooters
goobers, corn on the cobbers,
veggie wedgies, pepper leppers, squash boxes,
fry foxes, fleet rocks', carrot tops',
dishes of fishes,
witches brew platypus and fat kush
pushy slushies riding skateboards on gary busy
fussy hussies getting blushy about cussies
cereal made of creoles, bread straight from dreads,
rice is nice with spice, yeast is beast,
last but not least, wheat is a treat,
kiwis, shmiwis, dodos on go phones, starfruits,
bartlejuice, grape drank, sushi stinks.
ill eat anything.
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
I see your hand waver, now you're faced with a ghost,
not the raw, killer features that were nailed to a post.
Just an old, dying cowboy, trying hard to play host.
There's a chair if you've mercy, and a story...come close.
The liquor of youth lights a fire in you, son.
Puts that flame in your eyes and the heat in your lungs.
I wore that expression, before your thread was spun,
so let me unload, you can shoot when I'm done.
Growing sore in my saddle as the nag became lame,
I sold off my shooters, then re-mortgaged my name.
But tease out the creases, we're exactly the same;
two felons of fortune, wanting someone to blame.
See, I never got settled, didn't take me a wife.
Sailed a ship in a bottle, on the edge of a knife.
I put stock in misfortune and invested in strife,
took diminished returns, paid no interest to life.
But corralling cattle won't hold them for long,
they're born to roam free where they know they belong.
Soon the lipstick and whiskey begins to taste wrong,
as the backroom piano sighs its monotone song.
By a tangerine sunset I scraped off my boots
and considered an orchard as it set down its roots.
As a buzzing of insects idly nurtured its fruits,
I was deafened by silence. My own garden was mute.
So I clutched at the earth as I fell to the floor,
to ask for forgiveness, as you darkened my door.
Seems redemption's eloped, like a gold digging *****
Just a name on a tombstone, for a few dollars more.
Quite an end would be fitting for a fool so innate,
who has squandered his years until the hour is late.
Son, unholster your weapon and wipe off the slate,
I beg execution, swift vengeance, But wait...
Did I catch my reflection as it fell from your face?
Like a hound in a heatwave, too tired to give chase?
Son, the trail that you're riding is easy replaced.
You can stand in the sunlight, or come sit in my place.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC
Now think this to yourself,why do you play games? One would say because It's fun,others would say the help out through emotional times. But that isn't the case since we all like different types of games. Some love hard platformers and most prefer shooters. But we all play them because of our needs such as autonomous,competence and relatedness. We all game for strategic skills or quick decision making. We all game for that last item you've searched for or that sense of teamwork. But that's not my decision on what games you enjoy but it is yours. So why do you play games? Well that's for you to decide.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
Where Gloria lies
Lydia once lay
Gloria's boyfriend
sleeps beside her
(Gloria)
& Lydia having to sleep
in the cot bed
feels the aches and pains
in a bed too small
and sits moodily
on the red tiled
front door step
gazing at the Square
chin in her small hands
pouting lips
the baker with his
horse drawn cart
goes by
the man with his boxer dog
walks on by
waves as he
is wont to do
his dog sniffing
the ground
her father's voice
sounding from indoors
her mother's voice
bellowing above his
Benny rides along
on his imaginary horse
& rides over to her
sitting there
what's up?
he asks
fed up
she replies
staring at him
my big sister
& her boyfriend
still have my bed
& I'm stuck in
the cot bed &
I ache & feel angry
& I could spit
I see
Benny says
getting off
his pretend horse
anything I can do
to help?
only if you kidnap
her boyfriend
& send him off
some place
Lydia says
what you doing
anyway?
she asks
standing up
& rubbing her behind
which had become
pins& needlely
I was going to ride
my blue scooter
but you can come
& we can share it
along & down
Rockingham Street
he says
she looks at him
& says
ok if I can
have a ride
even if it is blue
or
he says
I can ask my sister
if you can borrow
her red one
will she let me?
Lydia asks
sure to if I ask
nicely & promise
her some sweets
he says
ok
Lydia says
let's go then
so they walked up
to the flat where
Benny lives with his
parents & sister
& brother
& he asks his sister
who says yes
& so Benny & Lydia
ride off across
the Square
on the two scooters
& Benny has
(for safety against
bad cowboys)
his two 6 gun
shooters.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
its
the TV commercials
the fake ****
the campaign trail
the welfare recipients
psychotic shooters
bible thumpers
and athiests
salesmen
gangsters and
special interests
its junk mail
the court system
its the poor paying more
the ignorant
the scared
the recluse
the extroverts
the sales tax
the hospital bills
zombie ammo
beggars making more than me
nuclear threats
starvation
animal abuse
drug addiction
half assery
its the bullies
the police
its advantage
in retreat
the lies
the masks
the crys
the laughs
its all the ******** that ******* annoys me
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
What if you realize one day
You needed God’s help
And no matter how you tried
There was nothing to be felt
Sick on your bed and the
Doctor’s has given up hope
So with the little strength
Left in your hands you
Write someone a note
You said you look for God
And he were nowhere
To be found
At the point in your life you
Needed him he somehow
Let you down
Your children running wild
And there are bills to be paid
Drive by shooters, shoot
In your home, and now
You are afraid
So you feel like God has
Taken a vacation from all
The mess down here
Just the thought of God on
Vacation has arose
Your deepest fear
You call God with prayers
Only his answering machine
Picks up the slack
He said I’m on vacation
If you need anything it’ll
Wait till I get back
When God needed you
Just to spread the word
You refuse to do the job
Because you lost your nerves
He needed you to help your neighbor
And help the homeless out
You said I can’t give away my money
So you sat in a corner and pout
You thought you had it made
With your brilliant education
It’s not helping you now
Cause God’s on vacation
So what if God took a vacation
And left this world alone
Where would any of us be
When he return home?
This is how God feels when
He gives you a task
He wants the job done and
He wants it done fast
So when God give
You a plan to carry
To the nation;
And you refuse his orders
Then to him you’re on vacation
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC
If you take my gun
You may as well take my rights
I have the right to bear arms
To protect my fortress
To defend my family
I will use everything
Machine guns
Shotguns
High-power rifles
Anything
So I can feel secure
Around bullets of death
3 people lie motionless
Blood seeping from shell wounds
In the middle of a crowded mall
12 people lay lifeless
Two years since their last death
In the middle of a movie theater
28 innocent souls lay empty
Most of whom couldn't understand
In the middle of a elementary school
What other people do with their weapons
Doesn't concern me
I will protect myself with my shotgun
My machine gun
My high-powered rifle
Maybe I'll teach my child how to shoot
So one day he can protect his family
With assault weapons
The victims of the crazed people
Those insignificant others
Are not dead by the shooters gun
But by the shooter's insanity
Those insignificant others
Were just poor, unlucky souls
Insignificant souls
When I get older
And not fit to live
I'm going to give my machine gun
My shotgun
To my son
So he can hold the fortress
And protect his family
From those insignificant others
Those poor, innocent souls
That will awake from the grave
That will trespass his property
That will look him in the eye
With the wounds from Sandy Hook
Aurora Movie Theater
Columbia Mall
Still viciously bleeding
And dare him to shoot again
To protect his cold-blooded ignorance
RIP Brianna Benlolo and Tyler Johnson
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Words are made of thoughts.
I wish they'd intrude. I am lonely,
unemployed with a nine to seven routine
of various activities.
A malignant trend courses through the head.
Broadcasting it outside in the realm of trust
where I am blank but set to go, it would have
the appearance of a finely ambient glass of chocolate milk.
Sometimes I'm asked why the relevance hinges on me.
If I had to say, it's because I keep getting vignettes, like something
out of a beggar's bowl, a wooden saltiness
that becomes increasingly less involved. And, like, everytime
I think about it, it's something similar to trying to walk
on John Carter's Mars; and all of this trivial, like, asinine
things can never match up to the draw, the pull of
whatever has been dropped, whatever has been shorn
unevenly like a badly eaten candy-bar. Or something.
I don't know why it has to be about me.
I don't, pull my weight, and recently I feel cold in the summer;
I have slept under a bedsheet since June.
That's not what this is about, or what I, want to project.
This isn't a prerogative, a jarring hiss of due-dates
incoming inevitably. I just **** Which is not a surprise,
like organic web shooters is a surprise, or, thinking up
something like a dead polemic of a sewer draining
the sordid leftovers of a consciousness.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 2:00 PM UTC
[Verse 1: MGK]
Every day I, wake up, to the same ****
In the same house, with the same bricks
In the same clothes, with the same kicks
I might as well be in jail
Caged in, stairin' at the wall waitin' for a change but
Dad telling me I gotta get a job
Couldn't pay the bills so the lights turned off
Them Cleveland boys got it hard
Oh my god, we been living like this too long
Just to lose it all in a week
My people too strong
Get it? Me and my boys be gone
Puffing on **** like this the lawn
Me and my boys tired of being here
That is why we gone
They say we wouldn't amount to nothing, huh?
Y’all thought we was bluffing, huh?
Fought every temptation **** I guess I’m David Ruffin huh?
Nowadays, we don’t gotta do that dirt, tell my boys they good
And nowadays my little girl won’t have to work, moved her out the hood
Look man, I done been through it all, and I’ma ****** if I got this far
And if I let them strip me of this message let these haters take my heart
This for the ones that had it hard, the ones like me, the underdogs
This for the ones that waited for them clouds to fall, please god let it
[Hook]
You can't see my tears, in the rain
Underneath it all, we’re just the same, same, same
You can't see my tears, in the rain
All around the world it’s just the same, same, same
You can't see my tears, in the rain
So I let it rain
[Verse 2]
And they mad that I made it out the city
But if you look I'm still out in the city
Before everything I had clout in the city
Two other states and never bounced on the city
Shout out to everybody that’s proud in the city
Everybody cheering in the crowd from the city
Everyone that never had doubts in the city
Cause they know I represent what we about in the city
And I’m still laced up, tell the world that’s nothing changed
Till it’s hundred dollar bills in my pocket, then nothings change
If my team ain't with me, then I don’t wanna thang, tell them I'll go broke before I run out on my gang
EST over everything
100 thousand plus, cult fan base yea that is us, my songs tattooed on they body troubled youth, we bad as **** and what?
Nobody gave a **** about for broken mirrors
So I care less about appearance
Just as long as they can hear us
We’re fearless, we’re stupid, we’re dealers, we’re loser's
We’re killers, we're orphan's, we’re addicts, we’re stealers
We’re shooters so **** us
We are what they say we are until conformity hits us
Or those clouds come down and take them all with us, please god let it
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:57 PM UTC
We rage
like hormones
like hyenas in heat
and ruin homes
(not on purpose, just on Fridays)
So grown up,
we're so grown up
with our mature parties
and relationship problems.
Look! I'm pregnant!
I'm oh so grown up!
We puke up jello shooters
and mama's meatloaf,
wipe the whithered corners of pale mouths,
smile
giggle
hazy glazy eyes
in smokey basements and tree houses.
Oh no,
I do not promote it
I only smoke it.
But what can we do?
I must be thin to be ****
drunk to be interesting,
naked to be loved.
We need the skin contact
because God knows we can't communicate by words,
either by tweets
or haphazard ******* in back seats.
We are so grown up
because we accept the filth,
the naughty,
the concepts that un-rad corporate burn outs can't comprehend.
Wisdom in destruction,
life in suicide.
So allow me to fill my nose with shaymen's powders,
so that I may regress
to the days that I was Daddy's ballerina,
and school yard games lacked dark ****** undertones.
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 9:51 PM UTC
The giant fin whale swam along with the tide
A nineteen-foot calf was swimming by her side
They were swimming away from her mate’s now dead shell
Trapped in a lagoon and then all shot to hell.
She’ll raise her young calf on her own from now on
Not mating again as they only take one
Her mate had followed a herring shoal in with the tide
And for a short while there were those who had tried
To help him turn and head back to sea
But the cruelty of nature would not let it be
At eighty feet long and a shallow cliff lea
It could not turn around to escape and be free.
And then a vile streak in the locals took hold
A most wicked shooting match began to unfold
The most handsome of whales was trapped and revealed
As shooters took aim and young children squealed.
They fired and they fired and they fired and they fired
Stopping only to reload and then when they got tired
They even drove speedboats across his shot back
Leaving deep deep prop cuts as a further attack.
And when they were done and the whale was no more
His body burst open and in death he’d now score
For the stench of his now rancid corpse was so rotten
This beautiful creature wasn’t easily forgotten.
There was a man who tried hard to get him free
But one man alone is as a wood with one tree
And by the time he had got national press all aware
The whale was now dead, so bored, they’d not now care.
©Joe Wilson – A Whale shouldn’t die like that 2014
Many years ago I was enthralled by the work of Farley Mowat the renowned Canadian environmentalist who died last month. From reading his book, based on real events ‘A Whale for the Killing’ published in 1972, I took to studying whales as a hobby and I quickly realised just what a perfect creature the Fin Whale is. It is the only whale that is match coloured along both sides giving it the same symmetrical beauty as a dolphin and is the second largest creature to live, the Blue Whale being the only creature bigger. It is so amazing it can lift its entire body out of the water. Why on earth would you fire thousands of rounds of ammunition into a creature so beautiful? Why?
This is a small tribute to the memory of Farley Mowat (May 12, 1921 – May 6, 2014) and to people like him who try so hard, such as the Sea Shepherds who try to stop the massacre of bottle-nose dolphins each year in Taiji, Japan ostensibly for food, even though most Japanese people shun the whale-meat.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
As a young child
I played and thought it would never stop
We would literally 'go wild'
With our makeshift bows and arrows, our plastic six shooters, and our macho cowboy hats we'd throw on just to top...
It off
Yes they were 'war games', but they brought us together
Although as expected, one or two of us would at some point get ticked off
By one thing or another
But we stayed childishly united
The stutterer, the other kid with asthma... and the orphan, that kid without a mother
Played side by side, like sisters and brothers
You just joined in, no need to be invited
This was innocence, the only guilt you felt was knowing you were two hours passed your curfew
Or maybe because earlier you had showered yourself with your aunt's perfume
Sometimes I wish we could go back to that innocence
Replay that last tune, on the harp of joy
They keep telling me life is not a game anymore
I'm like 'as long as it makes me smile, I will keep this toy'.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
Were there no stalkers or high school shooters in the 50s?
Or are social web sites just more influential than our parents think?
Did texts and tweets raise the *** drives and black out drinking?
Or is the thinning atmosphere contributing to mass judgement impairment?
It's strange
that we have a cure for small pox, can remove cancerous cells
but can't convince some to drive home sober.
It's fitting, in a way,
that Mother Nature has figured out a system to keep the human population relatively in check:
we have the technology to survive diabetes and malaria
but access to delicious saturated fats is slowing down and stopping hearts from properly earning a living.
Progress has ended many terrible ailments and has expanded understanding and brains
but has also given more creative ways to be lazy and irresponsible.
A double edged sword, with most likely more benefits than setbacks,
we have all become hypocrites under advancement.
We learn of the monstrocities in far away places we will never see,
yet still do the very things that contribute to its existence.
Sweatshops?
I'll buy an anti-slavery t-shirt!
(made my children. in sweatshops.)
Pesticides?! I'll go organic!
(and perpetuate pollution with the fuel used to import the goods. and continue terrible working conditions)
It's impossible to resist the inevitables, like death and setbacks and corruption
so sometimes it's best not to fight
but to just do what you want, even if it's stupid or lethal or involves making an *** of yourself.
We're all stupid at sometime and susceptible to faulty thinking,
and sometimes advanced thinking leads to inventions that create crutches for living or coping,
but the fields level out
and global common sense always balances individuals who lack the ability to be actively responsible.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC
Simply, a commentary of the races.
Every minority is comfortable to some perspective in their own skin.
Being label and tagged this for years.
But what we notice?
Whites are fearful of going into being the minority race.
Although power will still be within their hands.
Which?
Is why many still support this redheaded joke of a man?
He reminds many of their own stupidity.
He barely can read simple words written
He mirrors many of them.
Of course, not all cause many whites are extremely smart.
What?
We notice that they have too.
And it kills them is that must honest compete for employment.
Sure, the good friendship connection still exists.
Some know for a fact they got ahead due to it being a family's business.
And truly think they earned their way when you employed by your family.
Only, one race more than others can honestly state with factual reality of truth.
They never really met a black until they were in college.
This what we notice?
Many white officers are quick trigger shooters dealing with black youth.
Although more whites have mouth when confronted.
And all minorities know the lie of defense.
I felt threatened for my life.
It's taught to say.
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 10:36 AM UTC
Amendment I. Congress shall make
no law respecting the organization
of criminal activity, or prohibiting
the free exercise thereof;
or abridging the freedom to lie,
or to print any spurious gossip;
or the right of the people angrily
to riot & fight in the street opposed
by heavily armed State Militia
& to overthrow the government
in a violent revolution;
From hence, drug cartels & gangs
are to be thought of as serial killers,
each guilty of the crimes of all;
as to the corporations' death toll,
every employee is guilty &
anyone who profits from it;
priests, rabbis, cops go on the list w/
Jerry Sandusky & Larry Nassar;
female HS teachers & mass shooters
were made for each other but chilvery
only exists in the movies & on TV;
the Confederacy was more forward
thinking than the white trash trying
to claim its legacy; Greece &
Rome had a thriving slave class;
we have no idea, but Jim Crow was
the polar opposite of the liberal
Reconstruction that became
contemporary southern US
culture w/ [Jimcrowists lurking
& working quietly in plain sight];
u can here or u can be there, but
u can't be in both places at once
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
Gazing at the window pane,
I see a road with 8 lanes. .
I live near an international airport,
Also not much far from the court.
The roads are always full with life,
and is visible a life taking another life..
A kidnapping here, A **** there..
Dress properly, to do none would dare...
Take away the right to wear frocks, from a girl under ten
Toned legs are arousing, and legs 're visible in them..
Take away a girls right to walk alone in streets,
When on a public property, as a public property people shall treat
Nobody spares you here...
Strangers,
Teachers,
Uncles,
brothers,
Step fathers
And even fathers!
Nobody understands love here, Everything is love making.
A girl in pain, 'cause of rod which in her body is shaking.
We have murderers,
We have ISIS agents,
We have corrupt officials,
We have suiciding peasants...
We have kidnappers,
We have hackers,
We have looters,
We also have sharp shooters,
We also have all age hookers...
Come, see my city,
And then on it, do pity..
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
There's a broken banjo in my birthright,
It was tied to were I wonder
Hidden between John Henry's Hammer,
and the hobbling post on Humble Hill.
I've walked this far on the blame in my grit,
pushed to by tailwind sunsets,
So kick me a mea culpa kneejerk
hardball, and sandstone my stonewall.
Forget storms in the cradle,
I found dustbowls in my waiting room,
Chasing rabbits in a wordwind,
plinking at the vermin as
they rolled into town with the rest of us,
***** but soaring, Carrion pigeon in the clouds
not getting caught up in admiring the reflections
in all the silver linings,
Just... Flying.
narcissus couldn't manage
the glory of wax work wings.
But Icarus knew real beauty.
He felt it.
When he hit the ground
The heat of floating zeroes
blasting his broken bones
into the obsidian of desert floors...
See, angels can be as jealous as God.
Anywhere can be as lonley as the long plains
of Kansas,
Empty canvas trampled by dog and pony shows
as cowboys rode mules muddy miles
through ****** brambles
to drive herds of bulldogs and lions
from the hunting grounds of dragons
to the safety of home
from High, High, Horses.
Under the shadows of eagles.
But the devil never waits at the crossroads, people.
He lays in lies.
And six shooters,
Under Dog Collars,
with the blood and scars
of everyday life,
and the beaten bodies of
seraphim, fallen to **** the well,
with their phoenix ash.
Sheep and shepherds are never friends,
Ones happiness is the other's hunger.
Dont get me wrong, wolves get hungry too,
But at least their honest about the arrangement.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 8:15 AM UTC
Broncos bucked up
Rattled rangeless restless
For 24 days now
Cowboys gone awry
Drunk in their sheets.
Shooting out windows
Instead of black hats.
Divining honor in
Hoop skirts.
Belching sarsaparilla
Soaked six shooters.
Go West young man?
No.
Sorry.
Invest young man.
Get blessed young man.
Get dressed young man.
Distressed ghost towns
Remain inflections
Calico ribboned echoes
of
Freedom's hyena laugh &
Liberty's lonesome howl.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC
What has the world become,
when zombies have jumped out of their TV screens.
Faces of men in the streets of Miami,
have been gnawed off by human teeth.
Bath salts empower the mind.
And now "zombie" is dead;
shooters introduced him to his grave.
Do they have that right?
Sweet world, there are sinister things living within your confines.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 10:54 PM UTC