I put up walls – a poem

The walls erected,
defending me
to the cruelty of life,
it’s unforgiving character.

They come tumbling down,
completely overrun,
the end of my fun
and deep belief of safety.

I don’t dream anymore.
Slavery has nestled in my mind,
I turn blind,
I don’t have hopes.

The captors laugh it of,
one more innocent to humiliate,
sins that inflate,
I prey to my God it’s not too late.&

Cutting the oak – a poem

For some crocked reason ― I can’t remember which ― I was uprooted from the forest.
They sew me down.

With their nasty chainsaws running on this dirty petrol.

I was two hundred years old.

How old are they?

Just children playing with toys. Destroying for the fun of it.

Don’t you call it a job. It’s taking your spray can and marking X on perfectly sane trees.
You are doing it deliberate,
no debate about it.

Anarchistic assholes getting high on your power.
Where would you be without oxygen?

In the ground that’s where.

Like manure, left to rot.

Maybe I want a shot,
of your decomposed body.

To grow tall again,
touch the sun
and swallow the water.

Through hell – a poem

Nancy Pelosi had a right to visit Taiwan,
to place the people in danger she had not.
China is attacking the country,
with all the firepower available.
All for a phony stay,
were US swears to protect Taiwan,
while it barely can muster an army,
to hold out till day one.
This is started,
the Third World War.
Peace died,
soon the food supplies will run out,
people will scream and shout,
the cities will starve.
The strait of Taiwan one of the busiest trade routes,
Taiwan creator of computer chips,
that won’t ship.
If the Chinese boot crushes them,
it’s a dire situation for the democratic West.
Russia will exploit the situation,
increasing their strength.
There are one and a halve billion Chinese,
many loyal to the Communist Party.
Do the math,
and make such visits not foolhardy.

President of the society – a poem

She was only made president of the society,
because she couldn’t whistle with her toes.
She loved to held speeches,
everybody got bored
tried to caught a nap.
Her cakes she baked for the annual event were crap,
nobody wanted the position.
Too much responsibility and hard work.
The people attending barely knew how to use a fork.
So, she was voted president,
for her it was a present.
But it was just an empty box with cheap wrapping paper.

The island – a poem

After a shipwreck, he was a castaway on an island. He got his bearings; it must be somewhere near Africa.
The diet of monkeys and coconuts was pure torture. Ever tasted a monkey? It’s disgusting.
The first month he started talking to himself,
the conversations weren’t friendly.
He discovered he wasted his life on coke, alcohol, and easy women.
Determined to leave this dreaded place, he started building a vessel.
But the work went slow, and he felt his strength leaving him.
He decided to put a message in a bottle that maybe would be found.
‘Dear reader, pay heed to your life; it can end anytime.
Collect everything you can get from it. I wish I had had the chance.’
His body was found by an angler’s boat a year later.

Good and evil

The twin was alike.
They had the same manners and same looks.
But the one grew up cruel,
while the other remained true to goodness.
At the age of twenty, Ivan was already a cutthroat,
Pjotr became a priest.
One evening, Pjotr was traveling from the monastery to the town.
There Ivan stood, holding a sharp knife.
Your money or your life, dear brother, he said.
‘Have mercy with a poor monk, brother.’
‘No, God has no place in heaven for me, so I do not need his servant.’
Pjotr was stabbed to death and fell from his donkey. Ivan searched him.
He tore off a cross and spat on it.
Faith is for the feeble; bless the meek because they’ll drench the earth in blood.

Gone for an hour – a poem

Mom is going to go shopping,
you are a big boy, know.
Can you stay home alone?
I’ll bring you a present.’
She didn’t think about her son for one moment.
Till she returned and the house was on fire.
In the garden, three balloons floated.
‘Thank you for your present,’ it read.
After three years, she still burst out into cries,
she never got to say her goodbyes.
They didn’t find the body,
Incinerated in the house,
left to oblivion.

Firm belief – a poem

We had to reassure the firm,
we were successful employees.
Entitled to bonuses.
Nobody came close at the figures we were making,
like acid on a steel plate,
we eroded the opposition
to the idea of something new.
If we want you to go out and by a smartphone,
we will force you to.
The old ones won’t be updated anymore,
soon they’ll be parts of ancient lore.
A new Windows arrives on you computer,
nobody asked for it,
we don’t give a shit.
We are sellers of scams,
of distorted dreams.
Constantly maxing out your credit card,
sending the collecting agencies to your doorstep.
Yes we are the pick of the crop,
people with a firm belief in the American Dream.

Writer – a poem

He wrote one successful biography,
the academic world had spitted it out.
But bookstores couldn’t sell their copies in time.
A write has to encounter disdain,
it’s a way of life.
What nobody seems to notice is the filled coffee can,
the lonely hours sitting at the computer
filling in blanks.
Everybody can write a book, they say.
If you have a ghostwriter this can be correct.
I wouldn’t want to feed all starving writer’s,
the ones who didn’t make it to the top.
Living from royalties that dry up faster,
than water in the desert.

Teacher – a poem

Patricia loved the noise of fingernails pressed hard against the blackboard.
She liked torturing her students.
It was her small compensation for a life of misery and toil.
Teaching unwilling adolescents the ways of being decent took it’s toll.
‘Can somebody explain to me the graffiti on the wall behind us.’
‘The student’s snickered.’
The resemblance to the teacher was striking. The obscene pose was not.
‘Everybody get’s detention for this. And the person responsible will have to clean his mess up.’
The class started a revolution. Books where thrown in anger.
At that point mister Riley entered the room.
He was an old-fashioned man not easily intimidated by snotty teens.
He took the chair and slung it to the first row.
‘Alright punks, fun is over, now all open your textbooks on the matter of math. I’ll get you to add up two plus two even if my life depended on it.’
The class grew silent.
Patricia cast a thankful glance at mister Riley.

Urine – a poem

Tom released the urine with hostility in a toilet.
Having no regret someone’s head is in the middle of it.
‘Tell me who’s got my cash, Chucky, I slice you up so you don’t feel a thing. Pinky promise.’
The problem was Tom lost his pinky in a fight.
‘Honestly, Tom, I don’t know who has your money.’
‘Wrong answer, sonny, Black Tom isn’t as gullible as he looks like. Let’s go for a ride. But first clean yourself with this towel.’
Chucky looked like he could start to cry.
Should have set him straight before he played in the big leagues.
Prostitution, weapon smuggling, narcotics; Black Tom did it all with a genuine passion.
Making money was his raison d’etre.
‘You should have kept a low profile, Chucky. Talking to the cops isn’t a great life insurance.’
‘They forced me,’ Chucky cried.
‘Lesson one: nobody can force you to do anything. You should have kept your mouth shut and taken a lawyer. They are only left breathing for that reason.’
Black Tom held a gun casual in his coat pocket and guided Chucky to a limo with a running motor.
‘Look, before you shit your pants, I’ll want to offer you some last chance at kind of redemption. I need a snitch with the cops. Find out what they know and maybe you’ll live.’
Chucky drew a knife and plunged it in Black Tom’s chest.
‘I…I didn’t know you had it in ya,’ Black Tom stuttered.
‘Oh, I am a serial killer,’ Chucky grinned ‘I collect bad guys. He told the driver to stop, slit his throat and went whistling on his way.’
There was a mild drizzle. It became morning already. Chucky went to France with the money he stole from Black Tom.
His rap sheet included some of the toughest guys around. A total body count of 56.

Ferry – a poem

The seagulls shouted,
we could smell the air of the wet sand.
A day in England,
what joy.
We struggled to get through customs,
Brexit hadn’t been making it any easier.
Of course the British blamed the lazy French.
Those countries were always on each other’s throat.
England says the French leave to many refugees trough,
the French threaten to cut the power to an island.
We try not to think much of it,
visiting the countryside
mesmerized by the blossoming roses,
the beautiful castles.
A rich heritage,
we ate kidney pies,
drinking a Guinness.
Some would say it tastes like horse piss.
They don’t know anything about the good life.

Divorce – a poem

It was a petty divorce,
the great wheel of fortune was spun.
Lawyers had fun,
the couple ended up broke,
children being dragged from one place to another.
The fun was out of the marriage,
there was not much fun to be had now.
Then came stepdad,
he had loose hands.
The stepmother,
favoring her own daughter.
Once this family had known laughter.
But it’s all silent now,
except the crows,
they are having a blast.

Big man – a poem

He was a financial specialist,
the guy companies in debt hire in.
He got frequent flyer miles,
was a tourist to the world.
He didn’t care about where he was born.
This cosmopolitan,
the world his oyster to pick clean.
And their were the girls to banish the loneliness,
he had rough sex.
Every five star hotel,
served him well.
That’s why nobody understood,
why they found him hanged in his room.
Maybe he saw past the illusions,
not the perfect life.
But an existence on the run,
for himself.
He could have bought a gun,
but rope was cheaper.
He minded his money till the bitter end.

Bowling balls – a poem

He knew true hardship when it started raining bowling balls,
food ran out
the roof was destroyed.
The noise was deafening, after three days it still came down.
He believed this was the end of the world.
A lot of people before him had thought that too.
But death by bowling ball seemed to ridiculous to consider.
He jumped in his severely dented car and started driving to safety.
The effects of the storm where noticeable everywhere.
There were no people on the street, no traffic whatsoever.
He ventured South. In Arizona the skies cleared and the balls stopped dropping.
A sigh of relief came from his lips.
The alarm clock blared.
He woke up and immediately forgot what the dream was all about.

Doppelganger – a poem

He said he wasn’t at the party yesterday,
but many people claimed to have seeing him there.
Running around butt naked, harassing the ladies,
being drunk and out of his mind.
One even gave him a stomp on the nose.
Allen didn’t know what happened to him,
it was clearly a case of mistaken identity.
Later on came to police,
a description had led them to him
involving a grand theft auto charge.
He was taken to the station,
but his sound alibi
he had visited his grandmother outside the state that time,
got him a ticket of jail free.
And then he met him on the street,
exactly alike, spitting image.
‘Who are you?’ he asked.
‘I am you, the evil you, have a very unhappy life, sucker,’ the man grinned.
We all think we are unique,
that’s a lie, everyone has a counterpart,
and hope he is not aware or in the vicinity.

Noise – a poem

Everyday he beat his drums,
from 3 A.M. till 6.
Neighbors didn’t stand it,
they signed a petition to get him out.
The police became a frequent visitor of our building.
It soon became clear the nuisance wouldn’t go away.
Believe me, he was a great drummer,
but his timing sucked.
I started to get late for work,
my boss became inquisitive,
I told him of my problem.
‘Just wear earbuds,’ he suggested.
I tried some on the next night,
the sound became bearable.
The next morning burglars had cleaned out my apartment.
I slept through it all like a baby.

Wedding – a poem

I fell in a pit,
was an hour late to the ceremony.
My soon to be married was furious,
I forgot to appoint a best man,
there were no wedding vows.
I even had my tuxedo on in a crooked way.
The thing was I paid the stripper extra,
to spend the night at my place.
I forget to set the alarm,
after a night of coke and rum,
I wasn’t up to much good.
I forget to say “yes, I want to marry you.”
For better and for worse seemed to be for worse at the beginning.
The cook was a sadist,
he offered us inedible food.
The guests complained,
they wanted back their presents.
When it was time for the opening dance,
I was liquored up,
I stood on my wife’s gown and made her drop.
I got divorced the same day.
There not many people who can say that.
Life is about accomplishments,
and sure I did accomplish a lot.

Polite at first – a poem

He was richer than me,
and very polite.
Held open the doors for me,
shoved my chair under my ass.
But in the end when the magic started to fade,
he grew silent and moody,
reading his paper,
the stock exchange was all he seemed to care about.
In this time of neglect,
he started complaining I didn’t get him erect.
The divorce settlement was arranged so I didn’t receive a dime,
I am living now,
tiny apartment
noisy neighbors,
shattered dreams.

Animal testing – a poem

A human life is worth more,
they use to justify their sins with it.
Poor dogs experimented on,
made sick.
Destroyed after the testing.
How long do we have to put op with this?
We care for our pets,
can we allow this barbarism to take place?
Dogs are very loyal,
they genuinely love their bosses
they don’t deserve a cold needle,
if we want to battle cures
use some of our grey matter,
find a different more humane way.
A man can volunteer for a trial,
he or she has free will.
Let him or her decide,
let the dogs run free.

Complicated – a poem

‘What is X?’ his son asked.
Dad stood their with his mouth full of artificial teeth.
‘Is this your math homework?’ he asked in disbelief.
The homework assignments had the helping parents confused.
‘I’ll ask you mother.’
‘Honey what is X?’
‘Stanley, have you been drinking again?’
‘The school wants to know, we can’t have our boy failing math.’
‘I’ll work an extra shift for a home tutor,’ she sighed.
‘You already do three shifts, I’ll ask for a promotion.’
‘You are always saying that, for years on end.’
‘Oh, I see X is two, it’s as easy as apple pie,’ the boy said.
‘Are you sure.’
‘You have to make the sum after the equation and then transfer it and give it his opposite value.’
‘I need a drink,’ Stanley said ‘my headache is acting up.’

Earth 2 – a poem

Fluffy, pink, unicorns are a status symbol for macho men.
On this reverse planet world peace is realized,
their is no weapon to be found
crime was extinct.
Males and women peacefully coexisted,
in total unison.
Nobody was left out,
everyday they had a ticker tape parade celebrating something.
They loved their pets,
animal cruelty did not take place,
they even hadn’t any vets.
Misery and death,
they took no grasp here.
If you ever happen to go to a wormhole,
and visit this planet,
you’ll never won’t to leave again.

Missing you – a poem

In the mist of the past,
I am forgotten your features.
I get angry over this obstacle,
time has placed in my mind.
Right from the start,
I knew we wouldn’t gonna last.
Incompatible desires,
awkward silences
eyes watching everything except each other.
I could only be happy you didn’t cheat on me,
the text message was a bit crude
to crush my heart.
It’s all in the past now,
usually my pillow stays dry now.