Tuesday, February 23, 2010

poems

Bucher Knife

Once there was a butcher knife
Who dreamed of marrying the butcher’s wife
But one day when the butcher went away
And took his wife to Kay’s
The butcher bought a ring
Then proposed on his knee
But the butcher knife didn’t like the ring
And made the butcher scream.


Miles Wilson


It was an old model (A) motorcycle with two giant shining handle bars coming out like wing on a giant beast
The faded lather on the seat smelled of foreign places and untold stories.
Each scratch on the shiny black body of the beast had a history of its own
This bike had felt the world under its tires circling the globe in its thunders roar but now the beast lays dormant in a dark lonely garage only left to the memories.

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