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I am a hero hipster ******
drunk on this ****** ****** feed
that i sell to little kids.

This rightous symbol tattood on my feet
is a leftist emblem parlor trick
boasting stellar excapades
written in communist blood.
kategoldman Nov 2013
Silky smiled girls
With cups tipped off of saturdays doubts
Validating infidelity for a firm grasp
Graffiti sideways winks
Your only as remarkable as your last debute
Born again to a word offering baptisms in svedka
Your vices tattood on a list of hymns
Find solice in no mans company
Bring faith on your knees to a boy who can't speak his name
Your body is a temple with access through insecurity
Bless me father it has been two drinks since my last confession
Silky smiled girls
Make no home for validation in weekend crimes
Ali May 2013
I kissed your hand once,
Held it against my chest,
And whispered "mine"

Instead of leaving the word
Imprinted in your skin,
I tattood it on my lips

Because even now
When the word seems
To no longer be true

I whisper it over and over
Hoping it may one day
Hold meaning again
a.l.
My Dear Poet Nov 2021
I’m living the life
now that my wife
has moved on to another man
My kids are grown
now left all alone
I’m doing as I want and I can

I please no one
and then when I’m done
I only please myself
I eat when I want
whether I drink or I don’t
I serve nobody else

My neighbours a bore
they hear that I snore
but I don’t care a bit
My gardens my pride
trees hang on their side
and I spy on them from where I sit

The police on my back
parking fines in a stack
on the mantle above the fire
I ***** on scotch
every hour of my watch
I dare ya to call me a liar

My mum is my care
she’s always been there
in a nursing home now with Dementia
She brags, her boys the best
I tattood her on my chest
it’s always been a love of hers I betcha

I drive the old truck
and just my luck
the astray on the dash still works
I pick up my Betty
she’s dolled up and pretty
and take her for a night of beef jerks

A man’s got no mates
when he does what he hates
look at me living and licking it up
like my dog named ‘Bloke’
and it ain’t no joke
named him ‘Bloke Jr.’ when just a pup

I’m as good as it gets
placing my bets
on a horse or a grey or a ****
I’m not much of a convo
but what do you know
when I win I talk off your sock

Give me a minute
I’m not here to win it
I’m just good at what I do
They say life favours some
I happened to be one
and It’s unfortunate that you are you

Nah…I’m just kidding
I’m actually just bidding
all the chances I have on me
So far so good
knock on wood
I’m loving life and happy as Larry
Keith W Fletcher May 2017
I still have bad dreams
Each and every night
Don't know how to stop them
No matter how hard I try

I paused to smoke  a cigarette
Sat down on a bus stop bench
In my mind I watched the world go by
Some say just let go of it- like it's just a cinch

Keep the curtains drawn
Don't let in any light
Set the phone to messaging
Don't want to interact with anyone tonight
             With anyone tonight ...anyone tonight

But now I can't say what day it is
Cause I've lost all track of time
Wandering along the endless corridors
In the back pages of my mind

Keep on passing ancient shadows
As they keep going about their business
Of the one moment in the sun
When they were implanted with success

Like a tattood image planted
In that fatal garden of shame
When I think it's faded by familiarity
My mind drags me back like a moth to a flame

So please take me to the surface
Took all that I can take
Going round and round this maze I'm lost
Carrying this  weight is more than I can take

Nobody out there every time I look
But I feel like I'm not alone
That voice that rambles on inside my head
Like a broken tape recorder

          A broken tape recorder
          A broken tape recorder
          A broken tape recorder

       Can't bring my life in order !

That's what it says ...over and over ...over and over
Over and over ......over and over ....over and over
Over and over
Over and over
Over ..........................................................,
Her tattoos echo Art Deco
tattood
on an easel to swoon for
for her
I could be more,
could see more than the ink
would be more than one
fragile link
in the chain.

I imagine again and again
I imagine if
life becomes nouveau
what would I do and where
could I go?

Her tattoos echo
Art Deco
I
bounce of the walls.
Micheal Wolf Oct 2017
Once upon a time in a land not so far away, a bunch of yesterday's rebels tried to re live days gone by.
Stomping and romping and doing it large, with arthritis pains rageing and eyesight in decline.

But happy in memories and re living their youth, tommorow it's doubtful they will be able to move!
But all was not old, all was not done. For a face at the bar kept watch over them. She wasn't a bouncer or doorstaff in a huff! Just somebodys daughter, who gave a toss.

She watched over her dad to make sure he was good. As he forgot the pain of a marriage that broke.

In a Harley top and a tartan skirt they oggled at her and her rainbow hair.
Just a girl, eye candy to them. A memory of youth and a life misspent.

Now that's the thing! We ain't all the same and one of them wanted to know her name.
Wanted to know what was she doing there.
And looked at her eyes and not at her chest.

Laughter and jokes and hello this is dad, hell we even tried to find him a date!
His friends said wow Mike who was that? Then stereotypical, Foxy you old dog!

He said just someone I met, who shares a few friends and is here with her dad looking out for him.

All the way home they poked fun at him judging by their standards and not his.

So often in life we do nothing and time passes by.
Try saying hello and break the ice.

I won't deny she was pretty too view with a tattood thigh and bright beautiful eyes.
A figure that wars have been fought over in vain...
But to me,
I just knew her as
Jade x

— The End —