The  Beat: True Stories From the Streets

Page 4
 
Hot Stuff

D.J. Donny Johnson, just had a nasty day,
When he had a "close" encounter, with a dose of pepper spray.
His canister was needing, a shakeup and a test,
He aimed and sprayed it to the east, but the wind was blowing west.

The back splash settled nicely, on D.J.ís outstretched hand,
He then went in the menís room, he had to take a stand.
On the next call that he went to, he was very fidgety,
The D.J. Shuffle soon began, a dance you have to see.

The burning was incredible, he could not make it stop,
D.J. had stopped shuffling, and now began to hop.
From the car beside him, all soaked with morning dew,
He soaked his hands, and shoved them in, but the fire in there grew.

Running out of options, amidst increasing pain,
Oh, what he wouldnít give for, a cloudburst and some rain.
For any tips that he could get, Iím sure heíd pay big bucks,
But he did not go to Lost Lagoon, swimming with the ducks.

Iím told that his solution, nowhere is down in ink,
He simply tore his pants off, and sat down in a sink.
After soaking for an hour, and prancing all about,
D.J.ís problem had been solved, the fire was put out.

Itís a good thing that he didnít have, some frozen cubes of ice,
The results upon his burning spot, would not have been too nice.
But if he did it carefully, Iím sure it wouldnít wreck-er,
For Hot Stuff D.J., would then possess, a Red Hot Chilly Pecker.

PC 664 T.J. Gowdyk 99-04-05 (179) 
http://members.tripod.com/~Sir_Fuzz/
 

Not All 
is a Masterpiece
by Harry Polis
Not all that I write is sweetness and light
but hard
like a bed of nails.
Some make it fine
on line after line
Some of it moves like snails
It's witty
It's shitty
Some tell 
and some don't
It comes from the heart
and told
by the throat
Some of it sails
and some of it sinks
It glows oh-so-brightly
or suddenly stinks
It comes from the heart
in part after part
and leaves 
when it tells its tale
And sometimes 
land a minnow
and sometimes 
I land a whale.

Applying Elbow Grease, Mixed-Media, 8 x10", Jaynee Levy-Polis

The Lookback
by Harry Polis
I look back now and then
to see where I came from.
I sometimes joy 
at what I see
The pain I feel
if only I look closely
and remove the fantasy
in wanting to see things
other than 
what they were at those times
I feel the longing to go back
to the safe time that has passed

Bubba's Debut, 8 x 10" (She's making memories.)J.Levy-Polis
But on looking deeply
I see the failures
And at that moment, realize
I must go forward
because my mind
has moved beyond that
Such a small insight
And yet
How many are stuck 
at that truth and cannot 
move from that spot
And so
remain forever
                          looking back with closed eyes.
Geometry
by Harry Polis

I've done things
not doing 
by doing in my mind
Like once
I found this corner
made by two large walls
and shouted at their reaches
that echoed back my calls
As eyes searched these parallels
and perpendicular planes
I visioned naught but 
just straight lines
a traveler just of trains
And all I really had to do
was just to turn around
But me
I faced in corners
My trip had come aground
I dreamed of spirals with circles
To fear, I reasoned trains
But me
I faced in corners
with perpendicular planes
I pictured dreams 
and made up schemes
with all kinds of solutions
And I rigged thoughts of every size
I made my own pollution
I pictured picturing travel
along the winding lanes
But me
I faced in corners

with perpendicular planes.