Beat Poems (93)

When looking round,
Oh, there you are!

Where did you go
My precious one?

We've been alone for many years
But now we are in fizz!

In fizz of bubbles
Fizz of joy

Oh please, my love, don't be so coy.

I'm up at dawn and the mental gears are engaged,
the day will be long, my schedules been staged.

I've loaded my gear, trailer's ready to roll,
When sun dial hits 7:00, tis my cue to go.

Today is mowing, weed-eating, trimming and blowing
discarded leaves from trees that have been sowing.

Flower beds, homes and yards needing TLC,
assigned by their owners trustingly to me.

Like unmade beds and left over dirty dishes,
where a maid is hired to fulfill their wishes.

My services are rendered in the same intended way
to improve that which is neglected day after day.

The gift of good health to do all my work,
is a blessing from God, and not just a quirk.

To have this job at a time of economic strife,
Pleases me well, but I'd also like a wife!

I've no time to test the waters, to seek, to search
for a beautiful young gal to go with me to church.

So it's here to this site that I turn my attention
to publicly announce that I'm seeking her affection.

I'm a hard worker, fit, reliable and strong,
but to no-one that I'm in love with, do I belong.

'RICH' - I'm NOT!, (but neither am I shamefully poor),
Debt free I am, and 'DEBT' is something I want - NO MORE!

So excuse the attempt I've thrown out in poetic form,
to introduce myself as being available for your charm.

If preferences can be mentioned without insult or pain,
tis a younger, dark haired, slender beauty I hope to gain!

"OK ladies, your turn - I'm waiting!" :-)

when two people
fall in love
the two people
could be you
and me
so don't you agree

my best friend
was my little black
and tan min long
haird dashhound
named jj he would
go and get the mail
run in the park and
play with me
two week ' ago he passed
away now i don't now what
to do because i loved him so
i wish it was my turn to go

master oshiba was walking,meditatve,
in the zen garden..
master,show me the right way..
asked the young disciple..
master oshiba replied :
young man,what's your left foot's name ?

Within my dreams of tortured screams
and memories of long ago
I watched the act
denied as fact
and pursued her through the snow.

And in this dream
to me it seems
as though im almost dead
when Im ripped apart
and fed my heart
to awake upon my bed.

The dreams of night
with fists clenched tight
had followed me once again
and all my fears
wet my pillow with tears
as I expect the end.

Never before was I so bold
as when I tell you this.
The fear of death and the reapers breath
are as comforting as a lovers kiss.

I wipe at my eye
not willing to cry
must keep my sanity intact
little did I know
it was because of the snow
that kept me from attack.

I stand and scream
shattering all things
that happen to be in the room
the voice in my head
starts whispering instead
the end is coming soon.

I stand at the window
feeling the wind blow
through the broken glass
I cut my feet
climbing into the street
to fulfill my morbid task.

I land in the lawn
hours before dawn
listening to the voices
the demons around
retreat from my sound
so I stop to consider my choices.

I head for the trees
scraping my knees
because of the briers around
my rage intact
as a matter of fact
cruel suggestions
and self doubt abound.

A clearing in the forest
filled with chorus
by the evil thats out tonight
a circle of Satan
strengthened through hating
is witnessed under crisp moonlight.

In the middle of the night
Im turned on by the sight
at the scene taking place before me
levitating in air
with blood streaked hair
is an angelic symbol of mercy.

Raped and beaten
at this occultic meeting
she begs for sudden death
but the seed shes received
guarantees shell conceive
for the righteous theres never rest.


David M. Hill

A man walks into a local cafe hungry as can be,
While pondering upon the menu a sudden mystery!
Stationed all around him twas young and old alike,
Each awaiting their opportunity to dominate a mic.

Attention now at full arrest, his ears well tuned in,
He turned to a lady sitting near wearing a sheepish grin.
To her he says 'I'm new to this place, what's a goin on?'
'New indeed!' 'Tis our day for readin or recitin a poem!'

An hour or so passes by as poetry fills the room,
Poems of Wonder, Love and Lust, Poems of Joy and Gloom.
The stranger thinks he knows a poem he'd gladly like to share,
A chance for him to have his voice poured into poetic air.

The mic at last to him is passed & he proudly takes a stand,
and begins to recite from memory a poem he wrote at ten.
The audience is noticeably hushed in nearly traumatic form
When 'Roses are Red - Violets are Blue..' from his lips are born.

The quietness of the crowd, to him was awe, wonder then respect
Until a neighbor grabbed the mic while groaning with regret.
To his grinning lady friend he turned for a word of advise,
'Some can melt a heart with words but you've turned ours to ice!'

Don't be hurt that your words have failed to spark passion or fire,
Just make a note and have it with you the next time you desire...
to share your thoughts in poetic form to those more seasoned than you,
Don't start a poetic rhyme with 'Roses are Red, Violets are Blue..'!

I GUESS YOU GET TO UNDERSTAND WHEN A PERSON TURNS THIRTY
YEAH MAN THIRTY AND DIRTY
BUT AGE IS JUST A WALL TO WAIL
WHILE BUIDING A FOUNDATION NAIL BY NAIL
HAMMERING WITH PRECISION AND VERY WELL AIMED
"IT IS MINE AND IT IS DONE " YOU PROCLAIMED
UNTIL YOU REALIZED A CONFLICT OVER THERE
AND BEING OLD AND GETTING SICK WOULD BE FILLED AND DEFILED BY FEAR
IF ONLY OUR FUTURES COULD FLOAT WITH ANGELS ON A CLOUD AND A FEATHER
YET AND SIILL EVERY DAY OF YOUR LIFE IS LIKE MORE FIGID WHETHER
I DISAPPROVEE OF THE MAJESTY IN HONESTY AND ITS PLOT
SO MAY I JUST LAY DOWN AND DIE IN THIS VERY SPOT?
FOR EYES TO FAIL, YOUR LEGS OF RUBBER MADE
AND WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT YOU BEG YOUR SPIRIT SOON TO FADE
BUT THEN THERE ARE DAYS WITH ENDLESS AFTERNOONS WHEN AGEEDNESS SCREAMS IN YOUR EARS
SIMPLY TO MULTIPLY THE FEARS
YOU KNOW WHAT?...... I DON'T THINK I LIKE THAT A BIT
AND THE LAST ATTEMPT AT GREAT SUCCESS IS REPLACED BY LEARINNG HOW TO KNIT
SO I YEARN TO DO THAT WHICH MILLIONS OF PEOPLE HAVE DONE WITH COURAGE, THE WILL AND A VOW
TO END MY FUTURE IN THE HERE AND NOW
BECAUSE I WILL NO LONGER FEEL AS IF I HAVE NOT THE MEANS TO WONDER AT THE SUN
AND IN THE DARKENSS OF GROWING OLD THE MOON BE DONE
BUT NO ONE HAS THE POWER OVER A CLOCK WITH GOLDEN HANDS
AND UNDERSTOOD IS SUDDENLY THE FACT THAT THE UNIVERSE AND CONFIDNECE HAVEFINALLY BEEN ALLIGNED
AND THEN YOU GET TO THE POINT WHERE ONE IS WISE AND KNOWS WE WEREN'T MEANT TO BE CONFINED
THEN I SEE I A ROPE AND AN EXIT WORTHY OF DEATH
HANG BY THAT ROPE WITH MY THROAT RESTRICTED OF BREATH
OR, WHEN THE DEEPEST EMOTION OF DARKNESS HAS BEGUN
PERHAPS THAT IS THE TIME FOR THE STAGE DIRECTOR TO CALL FOR THE GUN
BUT HERE IS MY CONUNDRUM I CHOOSE TO CALL CONFUSION
I AM AN INCONSISTENT AND TAWDRY CONCLUSION
BUT I CANNOT SUMMON THE WILL TO DIE
AND NEVER KICK THE CHAIR
DO I MAKE MYSELF AMPLY CLEAR?
I WANT TO DIE BUT I AM AFRAID TO GO AND RUN FOR THE GUN
AND THEN THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO DECIDE WHEN ENOUGH IS ENGOUGH
BECAUSE AT NINETY YEARS OLD EVERYTHING IS ROUGH
THE ONLY THINGS LEFT ARE RELICS AND REMEMBRANCES OF DANCING DOWN
BROADWAY WHEN OUR FACES WEREN'T WITHERING AWAY BY WRINKLES WORN
AND ALL THE FABRIC OF UNCERTAINTY WE HAVE TORN
YET MY FRIEND FROM DOWN THE BLOCK DID HIMSSELF IN AND HIS NAME WAS HOWARD
AND I WAS ALIVE
STILL TO STRIVE
YES HE DID, HE JUST KICKED THE CHAIR IN
DESPITE THE FACT THAT HE KNEW IT WAS A MORTAL SIN
SO NOW I ASK, BETWEEN ME WANTING TO DIE BUT NEVER ABLE TO KICK THE CHAIR
OR THE MAN WHO WANTS TO KILL HIMSELF AND DOES LIKE HOWARD,
I ASK YOU, WHO IS THE BIGGER COWARD?
(C) 2011.....~free cee!~

one day i will leave this world and never come back....

my parents and my family and my friends will cry to see me dead....

my friends will miss me when they sit together,but they will never hear my laugh,my voice.they will not be able to see me again with them.
they will remember my company ....
and tears will flow from their eyes.
but once gone,i will never come back.







i dedicating these lines proudly my friends and family.

...It was one of those parties with
red silk-lined windows and
blonde people draped all over the
furniture. Someone called my
name. "Sherman," they said. It
wasn't my name, but

I'm used to that by now of
course. It was Wanda. She had
fangs and resembled
a Japanese ceremonial
teapot. "Good God Wanda what
happened to you?" I asked.

She gobbled my drink
and ate my nuts. Later

I was listening to the trains and
smoking a cigarette. This time she
was more honest. "Joe," she whispered
softly. "Oh, Joe." "You're learning," I
said and took another drag.