freepoetry Poetry (51)

I DO NOT KNOW IF I CAN USE PROFANITY BUT NOT FOR SELATIOUS RESONS BUT RATHER USED AS EXCLAMATION POINTS. Better safe than sorry I’M CERTAIN YOU’LL BE ABLE TO DECIPHER THE *********’S thanks

MALICE IN BLUNDERLAND
New born babies are being brutalized by a bastion of bastards and b*****s
S**t I couldn’t do that if I were offered untold riches
All the money in the world couldn’t motivate me to commit such an atrocity
As the blood of beautiful babies flow due to a self-serving monstrosity

I hear of all the babes who are stabbed, shot or beaten to death
The tiny ones who were only recently blessed by their birth’s first breath
But all too soon a baby’s blessing of breath becomes an acerbic curse
When heathens head a hoard of men to codify the madness of a monster or worse

The devil is their kin while hellish horror is their credo and misbegotten belief
Because too many babes are born to be baptized and bastardized by gargantuan grief
It’s a staggering and insipid account I hear far too often
With snapshots in living color of another corpse in a tiny coffin

Infants are instantaneously incinerated when insanity comes quite caustically to call
I just don’t see how you steal a little kid playing football
How the hell they can do it is, fortuitously for me, something I will never understand
While junkies such as myself don’t life a hand
As the unrighteous and unholy ogres who see babes as souls to murder, mutilate and maul
And is there anyone guarding and guiding this all?
Babes birthed by the grandiose and aggrandized are being brutally slain
And their parent’s tears fall like arid tears as does the desert rain
As some heinous individual ignores the severity of a parent’s needs
And thanks to the mortician that babe no longer bleeds
As these
Babes birthed by the grandiose and aggrandized babies are being butchered by brutal brutes with despicable malice
While a mahogany and gold leafed casket becomes an innocent’s eternal chalice
© 2011.…..~Phree!~

COOKIES, MILK, MONKEY BARS AND GUNS

We helped lay the foundation for your factories~
Then fought with enmity against your enemies~
We rode the rails to another pristine city or town~
And now thanks to our pollution the rivers are burnt sienna brown~

We populated your cities with children you could not feed~
So we tried to feed them with nutrition and railed against greed~
We filled the school houses with pupils and play time fun
But now too many of them stroll into school packing a gun

They listen to songs sung backwards for a hint or a clue
As prosecutors and juries wonder why they do what they do
They do what they do because sorrow and hatred prevail
And not only them but most of us are all doomed to fail

For all of us with certainty certainly will fall
Because too few of us will stand straight, stalwart and tall
Then millions of students rush out after the dismissal bell
As some godless adults set an open course destined for Hell
© 2011.…Phree

Edit
Thursday, jJune 30, 2011 at 9:28am
PANAMA PETE WILL PROBABLY POUT

Whilst walking when the southern wind changes in my direction
and become nor-easters such as a festering infection
I have not a choice but to go where my worn out shoes will take me
Until I reach far enough south for the sun to bake me
so people inquire why I don't drive a car
and i tell them because were i to have one I'd drink after leaving a bar

Panama Pete, the owner, knows straight vodka is all i ever drink
and he knows how many I need to no longer think
since drinking at eight A.M. only gets me in trouble with ladies or the law
and please don't think that alcohol is my only flaw

so I leave old Pete with his Panama hat's brim well worn
until, more often than not, I awake on a stranger's lawn
how I got there and why I am indifferent to
and take my word for it I am different from you
you probably have loved ones who care if you should die
i, however, could expire and not a soul on earth would cry
no moans, no groans and no tears would be shed
for only Panama Pete will miss me when I'm dead
People I beat for dope will never forget how much they despise me
and no tuxedo, three piece suit nor pin-stripes can disguise me
i am what i am because of a detrimental mind
and people can tell what i am even if they're blind

whilst walking and vying with the wind or the sun
Alas I arise from the stranger's lawn a man to shun
and will be so until this farce of my life is decitedlly done
(c) 2011...…~Phree!~

(Panama Pete is actually his name and owns or owned a seedy bar on eighth avenue and 46th Street in Manhattan. i haven't seen him in eleven years but ten to one says if I were to walk in he'd pour four and one on the house)