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    RobertBlack

    Posts : 3252
    Join date : 2016-07-30

    More Poetry

    Post  RobertBlack on Tue Aug 30, 2016 4:00 am

    DIRTY PARIS

    Too much dog shit
    On the pavement
    No one seems to care
    The Metro smells like a urinal
    Disease carrying mosquitoes
    On the trains in November
    Homeless guys litter the streets
    Criminals roam and rape
    Keep your metal shutters down
    When you sleep
    Don’t you peep
    At my Paris
    MY drunken
    Fucked up
    Slutty
    Dirty
    Paris
    Don’t worry baby
    My lights are on
    My shutters are open
    Injecting scotch through my mouth
    If that’s what it takes
    To keep you
    My love
    My precious
    Piss smelling
    Paris







    LET’S STOP KIDDING OURSELVES

    Let’s stop kidding ourselves
    We are the Devils
    And we are the Gods
    Tightly packed inside us
    A dangerous combination
    Ready to explode
    Through our brains
    Through our “souls”
    Through our cocks and cunts
    For we are girls and boys
    Otherwise known as that festering healed beauty
    Otherwise known as the human race







    WHERE DO THE FUCKED UP FRENCH GO?

    I walk down my street
    To get more scotch
    Sure, they’re all out there
    It’s Friday night
    Nine PM
    I wanna see
    I wanna smell
    The fucked up French
    I walk past a café
    They’re all drinking
    Some hot chicks
    And I try to feel them
    Try to smell the fucked up a niss
    Of the French
    But it’s not there
    I return with scotch
    I study them
    What’s wrong with them?
    I sniff the air
    Hoping to smell the fucked up a niss
    They should be drunk
    They should be dark
    But it’s not there










    PARIS BINGE

    Well
    I’m nearly out of scotch
    And the shutters
    Behind my eyes
    Are starting to come down
    The ice
    And the mixers
    Not far behind
    My teeth
    Almost too sensitive
    To eat
    But I figure
    That was a pretty cool way
    To waste four days







    KILLING BECAUSE YOU CAN’T GET A HOT BLONDE

    From the beginning
    Of time
    Killing has been
    Religiously
    Enshrined
    A sickness
    Born out of dust
    Distrust
    Disbelief
    Disappointment
    And disgust
    In the human race
    They say
    There must
    Be more
    Than the pathetic
    Us
    Paris weeps
    Blood on her streets
    Once again
    When will we ever learn
    What we are?
    And that
    It starts
    And ends
    With us?
    Young bearded cowards
    Hiding behind
    Murderous guns
    Becoming unholy
    In the name of holy
    No soldiers
    Fear the beautiful
    Free minds
    And bodies
    Of women
    Throw down
    Your guns
    And then
    Can you even
    Really
    Face a woman?
    A beautiful woman?
    Let alone a real man
    How do you plan
    To take those 72 virgins?
    No talk?
    No foreplay?
    No grooming?
    Rape?
    In YOUR so called Heaven









    MY TWO LIVES

    My drunken life
    Runs parallel
    To my sober life
    I know that
    When I go back
    And read my stuff
    If I don’t drink
    For three weeks
    I forget
    Where I got to
    But after a few drinks
    I find it right there
    Three weeks behind
    My sober life
    Loyally following
    Even after days of reproach and abuse
    And if my binge goes
    For many days
    Eventually
    When I sober up
    I will beckon my sober life
    To take over
    Create some order
    I never abuse my sober life
    Or perhaps I do
    By getting drunk
    As I abuse
    My mind
    And body
    But it seems
    As a writer
    As a powerful
    And wise
    Person
    Both light
    And dark
    I need both
    And when
    I attack my drunken life
    Less
    And it is ahead
    Of my sober life
    Winning at casinos
    Scoring loads of pussy
    With no need
    For slavery
    That’s when
    You don’t need
    To worry
    About me
    And my life
































    DARK MESS

    Time to dilute the blood
    Loosen the rusting mind
    And float blissfully down
    The deep river of inebriation
    Dive in
    Let yourself float out
    Let go
    And hope that alcohol
    Will define you well
    While your soul sleeps
    Bad and good
    It may be a terrible
    Dark mess
    Of puke and piss
    It probably will
    But how can the world
    Really see you?
    Unless you expose
    The brightest and darkest
    Of you?
    No fakes
    In a room of drunks
    Maxed to the madness
    And next day
    In the mirror
    You know
    What you are













    Time

    It is not you I hate
    It is time that has done me
    Made me feel old when I was young
    And look old when I feel young
    Sure I chased you
    And never found you
    But you kept that spark alive
    Maybe you lied
    In the mirror
    A million times
    But it was the timing of time
    In my mind
    That did me























    LEGAL HIGH



    It was a nice warm
    Sunny afternoon
    In Worthing
    I was drunk
    Looking for weed
    I soon ran into Andy
    We were pleased to meet
    We met some of his friends
    A tough guy and a pretty girl
    There was some talk
    About the strength
    Of legal high weed
    We sat at the usual place
    A bench just around the corner
    We smoked a spliff
    I was drunk on beer
    With more cans
    In my small backpack
    Which I shared
    Talking to Andy
    Telling him how the children in the park
    Drove me almost insane
    Always screaming
    The pretty girl kept bursting into laughter
    For some reason
    I thought she was laughing
    At me and my stories
    She kept bursting into giggles
    But she explained
    That she had not been so stoned
    For quite a while
    So I felt relieved
    And went on with my stories
    Eventually they left
    I felt so great
    There was no way
    I was going home
    So I bought a litre of scotch
    Took a few slugs
    On the walk home
    In the darkness
    Something happened to me
    All the people were dead
    Had died
    Of Ebola
    And I laughed
    That I could take any car I wanted
    I kicked a few of them
    Telling them they weren’t good enough
    For me to steal
    And then I saw a light
    It was the ancient meeting place
    Where the surviving pagans would meet
    And dance
    Like Stonehenge
    I felt so warm inside
    To know there were other survivors
    Of the deadly plague
    I had to go there
    But when I arrived
    It was just the statue of Mary
    Holding Jesus
    In the park
    Next to the public toilets
    I knew that statue well
    I stared at the statue
    And Mary became
    A large well defined vagina
    Then I knew I had the answer
    Of it all
    I sat down on a nearby park bench
    And considered the Universe
    I was disturbed by some stranger
    Telling me that I had wasted
    All my scotch
    And yes there it was
    An empty sad tipped over
    Bottle of scotch
    And I thought
    It’s time to go home
    It took me weeks to realise
    What had happened
    When I Googled
    Legal high weed
    But to be honest
    I loved the hallucinations
    Made a change
    From the booze










































    JUMP ROCK

    I stood
    At the edge of the cliff
    Where she had jumped
    So many people
    Had jumped from there
    In the past
    That they had named the rock
    From where they launched themselves
    Jump Rock
    Below me
    The ocean had roared
    And foamed white
    Against the rocks
    And it occurred to me then
    That those brave souls
    Who had jumped
    Had been mistaken
    That the ocean
    Would not have cared
    About their demise
    At all
    Not even blinked
    Though
    That may have been
    Their last dying wish
    But I supposed
    The seagulls would have noticed
    And a few hungry crabs
    Ten years later
    The earthquake hit
    And Jump Rock itself
    Committed suicide
    And drowned in the sea
    Perhaps
    It had become too sad
    Occasionally
    I have dreams
    About that rock
    But never about her
    And in my dreams
    I ask the rock
    How she is going?
    But the rock never speaks
    Just invites me down



    Imbibing Between the Slavery

    Imbibing between the slavery
    A slight reprieve
    From the shameless thief
    Truth drowning reality
    My vision returns
    Searching for proof
    Sunset gone
    Sunrise set
    Please don’t wake me
    Before I forget





    No Escape From Humanity

    Say you hate money
    Say you hate working
    Say you hate politicians
    Say you hate controls
    Say you love the couch
    Say you love life
    Say you love freedom
    Say you love cats
    Say you love dogs
    Say you are not so sure
    About most humans
    Say you hate the ridiculous ironies of life
    Of the system
    Modern life?
    It was always the same
    Don’t try to kid yourself
    The human disease
    Once spawned
    Was all over us
    Like a vomiting rash
    Can we break free?
    Can we ever break free?
    It could take a lot of acid
    A lot of weed
    But then
    Who would be in control?
    The artists of course
    Really?
    That’s stupid
    The artists would be quickly killed
    By the others
    One thing is for sure
    We are one fucked up species
    I am going to come back as a lion
    Hunted for sport?
    Endangered species
    That’s a dumb choice
    I give up
    No wait
    I will try the moon
    Or mars
    Gotta be better there?
    What about the aliens?
    The aliens?
    We are the fucking aliens!
    Oh yeah
    How could I forget?






    Missed Opportunities

    I was on the lash
    With a friend
    A Kiwi born guy
    We had had a good night
    Plenty of booze and a little weed
    In Christchurch
    Pre-earthquake
    There was a takeaways in the square
    That was open all night
    When we went to order
    There were a couple of quite drunk American girls
    In their twenties
    Not that good
    But not that bad
    “Excuse me,” one of them said to me
    “Yeah?”
    “Can I ask you a question?”
    “Sure.”
    “Do you shave twice in a day?”
    I laughed.
    “Sometimes,” I replied
    My friend was married
    And had not yet learned how to be unfaithful to his wife
    He did later
    Of course
    So we left them
    Feeling as lonely
    And unsatisfied
    As we were







    More Than Luck

    I left her behind in the car
    Crying
    I crossed the road near the casino
    And got a small rush
    A guy approached me
    From the left
    I guessed he was a homeless guy
    And it was too late to escape him
    “Spare some small change?”
    “No, sorry mate,” I replied instinctively
    “Liar!” He shouted as I passed him by
    I carried on
    Feeling slightly offended
    But after a few meters
    I stopped
    I needed karma on my side
    And he had spoiled it
    I turned to see him attacking
    Another innocent victim
    Who looked perturbed
    “Hey!” I yelled after him
    He seemed not to hear me
    And the other guy
    Wandered off
    Just as I had
    I walked quickly to him
    “Hey!” I shouted again
    I thought I saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes
    And his body language became less confident
    “You were right, I did lie,” I told him
    “I know,” he recovered
    I raked my hands through my pockets
    And dumped about twelve dollars
    In coins
    Into his hand
    “I am going to the casino. Wish me luck.”
    “You will get more than luck brother!”
    I left him
    And wondered what he had meant
    More than luck?
    As if it was some cryptic clue
    About my relationship with her
    I heard him shouting as I continued on
    “Ha ha! Bloody Christmas!”
    I began badly
    At the blackjack table
    I usually did
    Got down to my last fifteen dollars
    But two hands later I got a perfect pair
    And the run continued
    I left the casino eight hundred up
    Plus two hours of free bourbons
    I had done what I said I would
    And back in the car-park
    She soon cheered up
    Once I handed over the cash


















    Darkness

    Darkness
    Dribbles down
    From my mind
    Into my mouth
    Words
    Run down my chin
    Forming drops of hate
    Onto the page
    Sometimes it comes
    Out of my loins
    Thrusting blindly
    Into she victory
    But lest it be
    A stranger
    Bruised and bloody
    From my blows















    Leaving Paris

    The Celtic jewel
    A nice snapshot in history
    Hemingway
    Almost earned her respect
    And I used to think
    All Parisian girls
    Would be like Betty Blue
    The Arc de Triomphe
    And the Eiffel Tower
    Still stand
    Just as sure
    As when
    Hitler rolled in
    Since then
    The cup of political correctness
    Hath runneth over
    Spilling poison
    All over the map of Europe
    And cities such as Paris
    Have suffered the affliction of dilution
    Homogenized people
    Slowly being milked of their humanity
    The enemy is not from within
    But without
    Paris is one of those places
    Like Stonehenge
    The energy is good
    The air is smooth
    Soft
    And the place itself
    Is at peace
    With itself
    I finally found a good Beaujolais
    It’s a 2014 Brouilly
    I owe Paris this poem
    She has been good to me
    Kept me safe
    During dangerous times of occupation
    It’s a nice place to wake up in
    And always will be
    Eventually the French resistance
    Will rise up
    Just as before
    It took time
    It always takes time
    You got under my skin
    Six months in Paris
    Will draw a tear in my eyes
    When I leave
    It already has




    Freedom

    When I lived in Harbin
    In Northern China
    I had cockroaches in my kitchen
    So I bought a trap
    A very sticky
    Small cardboard rectangle
    With a bit of brown powder
    As food
    Next day I was surprised to see
    Many cockroaches
    Stuck fast to the cardboard
    There was this one big female
    Who had given birth
    After her legs had stuck
    And there were eight little baby cockroaches
    All in a straight line
    The younger ones
    Had stepped on the older ones
    Used them like stepping stones
    So the youngest one
    Had got the furthest away
    From the Mother
    He or she had almost made it
    To freedom
    But had fallen short
    By about two centimeters
    Some were dead
    Some were dying
    Occasionally having a small wiggle
    In a futile attempt to escape
    I thought about
    Trying to help them
    But I couldn’t
    As their little legs
    Would just tear away
    From their bodies
    And I wondered if the Mother
    Had been religious
    If she had been
    She must have felt
    Very let down
    By the cockroach God
    That day




    Dark Days and Dangerous Nights

    Black clouds are forming
    In a circle
    Above my head
    And I know
    Once again
    I will be forced down
    To my knees
    To watch my life
    My joy
    My optimism
    My luck
    Swirl around a little
    In the sink
    Before it
    Goes down
    The drain
    And I will wake up
    In the sewer
    Of my own design






    The Great Pretenders

    Human beings
    Are very skilled
    At pretending
    They are not
    What they are
    And attempting to ignore
    What is inside them
    This includes
    Attempting to ignore their natural instincts
    Their primal instincts
    Because they have this notion
    That they are evolving faster
    Have evolved further
    Than other life
    And are therefore
    Superior
    Racism
    For example
    As abhorrent as people may consider it
    Human beings are essentially tribal
    And racism is simply a survival instinct
    Embedded deep inside us
    Born from thousands of years
    Of survival
    And experience
    Don’t be racist!
    Don’t say racist words!
    Don’t be sexist!
    Don’t say sexist words!
    Don’t be dirty!
    Don’t say dirty words!
    Don’t be violent!
    Don’t say threatening words!
    Or you will be fined
    Perhaps jailed
    Millions will join
    To hate you
    Online
    You must be like us!
    They will say
    Politically correct
    Homogenized
    Nice and normal
    Or you will certainly pay
    So racism, sexism, dirtiness, and violence
    Will be repressed for a while
    While it spikes freely in other countries
    But it will germinate
    Like a seed
    Underground
    In silent resentment
    In growing frustration
    And anger
    Until it explodes once again
    Into life
    Twice as strong
    Years later
    Or in a new generation
    Perhaps in a world war
    And the people will once again cry out
    How could human beings do that!?
    When they see the news
    Just as their grandparents did
    And their grandchildren will
    Trapped in a cycle of denial
    It’s relatively easy
    To act nice and normal
    In front of a crowd
    Or in public
    The tricky part
    Is doing it
    In private

      Current date/time is Sat Aug 19, 2017 6:02 am