Listen the Whirring Blades

listen the whirring blades

chop chop chopping motors

the daring escapades

over the fields and glades

the heat of explosions

the force of wind that fades

returning from tirades

ghostly chopping motors

flying for decades

again again in raids

fraught with meaningless rage

in the fields of all dreaming

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Bleeding

i'm not bleeding on the outside yet

don't lick my buttons shep

my heart pleading at the outset

don't lick my loafers shep

maybe a trickle

get away dog

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Peephole

Through the peephole I see,

Starin' right back at me:

One round eye.

Could be the pizza guy,

If the peeper were blue;

But, stuck there like glue,

Brown and ugly mean,

Is the nastiest glower I've seen.

Where have I beheld that iris before?

Was it inside the finance store?

Or on the dude sold me my shitty car?

Maybe it's the pissed bastard from the bar?

He can knock until his eyes turn green;

He won't get a step past the screen.

I will just pad softly off to bed.

Screw 'im, hope he concludes I'm dead