Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Smoking Melancholy

Photo by maxknoxvill from Pixabay
I suck the bottle and breathe the stench 
I fill my lungs with melancholic smoke 
I’m filled with a careless sinful past 
I blow that smoke that cursed my lovely cares 
And watch the cruel world swirl like a deaf bat 

She walks on flowers like a shredded sharp dusty piece of glass 
She kisses my hands to make them feel real 
She sings flat notes that come from her lips 
And she drinks red wine that is filled with fear

Monday, February 27, 2017

Worthwhile


Photo by stux from Pixabay
I’m walking down the street 
Where the sun is merely free 
And muddy puddles always 
Spraying me 
And the shops, 
their windows have my dreams 
But my feet just keep walking 
Because, of course, I need some money 
And some old dude looked at me 
And did not like what he had seen 
But he did not look away 
My dignity intact 
Because I wore those shirts, those pants 
Those ties and who cares 
If my shoes are not your type 
My shoes are not your type? 

I’m driving down the street 
And I see a woman merely free 
She makes me want it all 
Money 
And I ask her what she needs 
She says, “Oh, baby please” 
Like I did not have quality 
But her legs, her walk and her talk 
Just makes me want to bark 
But the money is all she really needs 
But I wore those shirts those fake smiles 
Still they make me feel like I’m not worth the while 
I’m not worth the while?

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Sabrina Sonnet

Photo by Stokpic from Pexels
Not having you near; a thorn in my mind
Hurting and swelling into painful screams
Memories of your kisses; my sweet wine
Your smile, your dancing are always my dreams
-

Your sparkling laughter, your voice with no fear
Your scents that envelop my thoughts, my skin
You make me ecstatic when I’m in tears
Away from you makes me feel like a sin
-
Grabbing your hands and your waist, secures my soul
Touching your lips, your love is heaven above
Your stare, your glare, your hair—a true love show
Away from you makes me long for your hugs
-
Kissing and holding you is all I need
Time makes our great dreams come true when we meet

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Perpetual Downcast Adoration

Photo by Lynn Greyling from PublicDomainPictures
She left leaving the room empty
to go breathe the desolate air of the ocean.
A colleague of deep blue with the golden sky
which does not happen often.
He went home leaving his head empty
to go breathe the infamous smokes of the liberalist faction.
Yellow and red lights reflect an image of a place where
isolation is only a ration.
"Hurry, Hurry," he thinks, "before my love is rotten"
An old man whistles away to a song once forgotten.
"Hurry, Hurry," he says, "before my love forgets you."
An old woman weeps away to a song she once knew.
She left leaving their place empty
to go sing the songs of the deep blue and golden hues.
He went home leaving his head empty
to go whistle a song known only to a few.
"Hurry, Hurry," he thought, "before my love becomes a sad song"
An old man and a weeping woman in unison sing a song.


If you like this poem, check out more by Bazooka here:

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Monday, February 20, 2017

Narcissistic Junkie

Photo by Tim Sheerman-Chase from Flickr
You 
Out to be cool 
You 
Drinking whisky and singing like a fool 
You 
Prowling late and sinning with haste 
You 
Reading secular pages and emitting bigotry 
You 
Feel the ire by berating the humble 
You 
Light the fire and walking on a wire 
You 
Come here with fate and sing the sin anthem 
You 
Only love yourself and like nothing else 
You 
Think your standards are sublime and extend hate



If you like this poem, check out more by Bazooka Teachers with Amazon

Friday, February 17, 2017

Making Love At Her Parents'

Photo by McMenemy from Flickr 
Hush, we make love, we make love,
we make love.
Shhhhhh, we’re in love, we’re in love,
just a couple of doves.

Squeak!
We stop the love.

Listening to the empty air,
the house crackling,
the others breathing.

Imagining what the others think,
while a ring in my ears disguises
their snooping.

We take position and wait.

Again we continue our love disguised
in deep sleep position.

Hush.



This is another old poem I wrote and is part of my first collection called Hello Mr. Satan, You're an Idiot! You can find the poetry book with Amazon

Monday, February 13, 2017

Lola's Advice

Photo by Kaboompics from Pexels
She had to go to a psychic 
to check on me 
to go see if her misery is an illusion 
or hear the bad man that I am 

She had to go to a psychic 
to prove something right 
so she can feel alright 
with her anguish real high 

She had to go tonight 
to spit on my hide 
to go step on my merriness 
illusions and insecurity 

She had to prove me wrong 
so she can sing a sad song 
while her anger 
is like a dull sharp spoon 

Lola said, “No” 
he’s just a Joe 
with a peculiar brow 
he’s a cloud not a doubt 

He is an intoxicated liberty


If you enjoyed this poem, enjoy more by Bazooka Teaches by clicking on this: Support independent publishing: Buy this e-book on Lulu.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Last Honey Ride

Photo by Iain Watson from Flickr
Everybody wants your honey,
but it's my hive.
Everybody wants your ride,
but it's my drive.
Everybody and their honeys,
talk to you when I’m gone.
Everybody with the money,
you can turn on.
Last time I told you to C'mon,
I don't think that I really cared.
Last time you told me to C'mon,
I don't think that you really dared.
Last time I told you to C'mon,
I don't think that I really cared to share.
Anybody in the morning,
thinks of you wrong.
Anybody at the movies,
likes your popcorn.
Anybody with money,
likes to climb your thong.
Anybody with a ride,
wants you like King Kong.
Last time I told you to C'mon,
I don't think that I really cared.
Last time you told me to C'mon,
I don't think that you really dared.
Last time you wanted to,
Last time I wanted you,
Last time we got it on,
I don't think it was a honey ride.

This poem is from a book called Hello Mr. Satan, You're an Idiot! Check it out on Amazon by clicking on the book's title. 

Friday, February 10, 2017

Desperate Reconciliation

Photo by George Hodan from PublicDomainPictures
I really need to see your eyes 
my sweet. 
If I don't, I may die every day. 
They shine inside my heart 
and move my feet, 
and they make my soul free, 
flying sun rays. 

I really need to smell your hair today. 
If I don't, I may cry every night. 
The aroma lifts me in such a way 
that my spirit will never be with fright. 

I really need to see you 
my sweet cakes. 
If I don't, I will frown every time. 
Your shape and your sways 
make me want to shake, 
and it makes me want to say, 
"you’re so fine." 

You know what word is missing 
from this rhyme? 
"Love" is what I'm talking about 
this time.

This poem is from a poetry book called "Hello Mr. Satan, You're an Idiot" check out at: Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

Saturday, February 4, 2017

Is it dunch or linner?

Photo by Tim Lucas from Wikimedia Commons
What do you think? Is it dunch or linner? You know, the meal in between lunch and dinner? I mean there is a brunch, which is the meal between breakfast and lunch. 

So, dunch or linner? Many say that it should be linner because the way brunch is structured. B and R in brunch are the B and R for breakfast, since it’s the first meal of the day, and the rest is u-n-c-h taken from the last four letters of the word lunch; thus, we get the word brunch. 

The same structure would apply to the meal between lunch and dinner. L would be taken from lunch, since it’s before dinner, and the rest is i-n-n-e-r taken from the word dinner. However, the word brunch takes the first two letters from the first meal of the day. So, would linner instead be luinner. I mean, what the heck! 

I guess it doesn't really matter, but dunch just sounds so cool and goofy! I would have to vote for dunch over linner or even luinner. It just sounds better: “I’m hungry, let’s go get some dunch!” 

What would you call it? Dunch or linner? We can agree that we are willing to throw away the idea of calling it luinner. Seriously!