Thursday, 31 August 2023

varied new poems

 

Posive

Oh you're gonna feel that

Be positive on all things

Hard to be when they

Sawed off your damn legs

Where'll you run to now?

 

 

december fields

it only rains in these fields in december

for xmas is crying never comes here

people are too poor to care

for a fake invisible sky god

who may or may not exist

what exists is poverty and superstition

believing in what they can see in the day

and can’t see in the night

in omens and signs and words

oddly xmas isn’t on the list

just another working day

in the town where december rain

only falls in the fields in december

small town folk paranoid insolent

using bibles as toilet paper

how I feel the december rain

 

 

 

Times Gal

Give it back she demanded

He took the small barrel

Off the table of her 22 pistol

Saturday Night Killer being cleaned

Or it wouldn't fire as dirty

This gal was bad ass

All the effing way

She cut the metal tips

Off the 9mm slugs

Making them dum dum bullets

Took your face off

A mess like a 22 slug

Tho laughed at lethal

Like the small gal

He put the barrel back

It was well machined

She smiled and assembled the gun

Time to work later

 

 

 

Those Bikes

See the goth heavy metal custom motorcycle

Ride past with a long haired rider

Dressed how they should be dressed

Black jeans t shirt denim leather

Low rider chopper as it should be

With twin coffin saddle bags

What a ride to the other side

Give him Devil fingers\M/!

Then there was a classic looking bike

Parked up alone

And I saw two racing bikes

One with a fairing the other naked

Heard his engine as he passed

A man asked me on the bridge

Where am I going?

Planet Mars on a custom bike

With my chick and loud tunes


 

 

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