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Monthly Archives: April 2015

Cooper The Pooper Scooper

30 Thursday Apr 2015

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

dogs, pooper scooper

Hi, My name is Mitchell Cooper and I am a professional

Dog walker.

My friends laugh and call me Cooper The Pooper Scooper.

But that’s okay I don’t plan on being a Dog walker for much

longer.

People think that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth

But nothing could be further from the truth.

I live in an apartment about the size of a telephone booth.

I have been grooming clients for about two years now.

building up the trust.

Getting into their heads and into their beds

One of my clients is a widow.

She owns more cars then a car dealership

She has more jewels then the Queen

And more Dogs then a pet store.

Her name is Esme Clutterbuck.

She is Seventy years old with Purple hair and a mean

streak.

She talks to me like I am a piece of shit on her shoe.

I arrive at her beach front home I find her waiting for me.

She says to take the Dogs for a walk and when I come

back knock on the door she has a proposition for me.

After taking her Dogs for their walk I find her sitting on her

Itatian sofa.drinking a Chivas Regal on ice looking out of her

window watching the yachts on the lake.

She asks me that if I am not busy tomorrow could I drive her to

the airport.

Cause the Chauffer Ghives was off sick.

She would be gone for two weeks she was going on a cruise.

Would I mind watching the house and walk and feed the Dogs?

After driving her to the airport she gave me the security code and

the keys to the house.

Without even a wave or a goodbye she was gone

I couldn’t believe my luck and I drove back to her house and let

myself inside.

I had plenty of time so I went exploring.

I ate her food and drank her booze.

Then I put my feet up and watched the evening news

I started to think that a lady like Mrs Clutterbuck had to

have plenty of money and jewels.

She had to have a safe.

I began by looking behind all the paintings.

But I didn’t find a thing but it isn’t over yet

I haven’t heard the fat lady sing.

Where would an old lady keep a safe?

I go to her walk in closet and I have a look around

Then I part her evening gowns.

And there on the wall I see the tumblers

That has ended my frustration now to find the combination

If you have read any Agatha Christie the combination will be in

an envelope taped under the bed side drawer

And that is where I score.

Inside an envelope is the combination 23l 2r 16l

I race back to the closet and I try the combination and the safe

door swings open.

And inside is stacks and stacks of money.

I grab for bundles and I do a quick dash.

Downstairs my heart is beating double time

I count the money 4 sacks of $20,000 that is $ 80,000

all up.

For the next two weeks I do my normal routine

I take the Dogs for a walk and do some pooper scooping

Thinking about another client who needs duping.

That client is Mrs Albright a young lady about my age

Her husband made his money on the stock exchange

And he has done very well.

Besides walking her Dogs Mrs Albright and I have been

getting it on.

I have been exploring every one of her crannys and nooks

Just like in that Karma Sutra book.

But what Mrs Albright doesn’t know is that everytime we try

a new position.

I have recorded it all on a disk.

If her husband saw us now he would just say tsk tsk

We were out walking the Dogs and of course I was using the

pooper scooper.

I suggested that hen we got home we could watch a movie

or just some TV.

Back at home we snuggle on the lounge and I press PLAY.

The look on her face is priceless

And for once she didn’t have anything to say.

She opened and closed her mouth like a Fish out of water

No words were coming out but my next words left her in

no doubt.

‘Give me $100,000 or I will leave a lot of clues and your husband

will receive the news.

And you will have the unfaithful blues

She just nods her head and she writes me out a cheque

I say before I go I have a sausage to hide.

Why don’t you take hold of it and we can go for a ride

She just gives me a look and points to the door.

And she says’I  don’t want to see you around here no more’

Client number three is a middle aged women called Mrs Pace

She wears a lot of jewellery and a painted face.

I have been walking her Dogs for years she is a nice lady

But her husbands business dealings are somewhat shady

He will be the victim of my scam

He is not a very nice man.

But before I can begin my ruse.

I have been busted by a self inflicted fuse

It deems that Mrs Albrights cheque has bounced

And Mr Policeman is about to pounce.

The law firm of Clutterbuck Albright and Pace have found

me guilty of the charge of obtaining money by deception.

The judge said that the charges are up for mention.

The jury found me guilty and gave me five years.

I couldn’t believe it and my eyes filled with tears.

The prison van takes to my new place of abode

a cell on the penitentiary road.

The Warden puts me in charge of the prisons Dogs

And he hands me a pooper scooper

As I wander around pooper scooping

My shoulders start to droop.

But then I realise I am who I am.

I am Cooper the Pooper Scooper

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Electricland

26 Sunday Apr 2015

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

electricity, flood, hard rain, water

I live in a place called Electricland

Where the night sky is lit up with street

lights

Where every major intersection is

controlled by traffic lights.

You go inside flick a switch

and there would be light

Open the fridge door

and there would be light.

You turn on the oven to cook

a meal

You use the washing machine

to wash some clothes

It is hot so you turn on the fan

It is cold so you turn on the heater.

Electricland is a happy place

lit up like a Christmas tree

everywhere you go is electricity

It buzzs down the wires

into every home and business.

Along with money it makes the world

go round.

But them the world went crazy

the wind howled at a category two

The rain came causing flooding and chaos

Trees were falling like ten pins

Crushing cars houses and I am sorry

to say people.

Electricland is in mourning

it is blanketed in darkness

Sirens fill the air with there piercing

sound.

And you know that someone is in trouble.

Day after day the wind and the rain ruled

our lives.

The traffic lights go down

there is chaos in the streets

The street lights go down

and you cant find your way.

The oven is cold

You flick a switch and nothing happens

Open the fridge door and there is a bit of

a smell.

No TV no music

You sit in the darkness

The only light comes from something

that they call a candle.

Electricland is in decline

The Beer is hot the food is cold

People wander around in a daze

No playstation xbox and all the rest

What is a person supposed to do.

But then the wind died down

and the rain stopped

Everybody is celebrating

But it is still dark

But behind the scenes men and

women in Orange vests and White

hard hats are busy at work

They work for the electric company

They do something with the wires

Perform a miracle or two

And there is light

Electricland is shining bright

The darkness is a thing of the past

It just goes to show that you don’t know

how much you miss something

until it is gone.

street lights.

And every major intersection is

controlled by traffic lights.

You can go inside flick a switch

and there would be light.

Open the fridge door

and there would be light.

You turn on the oven to cook a meal

Turn on the washing machine

to wash some clothes.

It is hot so you turn on the fan

It is cold so you turn on the heater.

You pick up the remote control

and turn on the TV

You pick up the remote

to play your favourite DVD

You pick up the remote

to listen to your music

Electricland is a happy place

lit up like a Christmas tree

Everywhere you go is electricity

It buzzs down the wires

into every home and business

It makes the world go round.

But then the world went crazy

The wind howled at a Category two

The rain causes flooding and chaos

Trees fall like ten pins

Crushing houses cars and I am sorry

to say people

Electricland is in mourning

it is blanketed in darkness

Sirens fill the air with their piercing

sound.

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Machete Man

20 Monday Apr 2015

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

blood and gore, humiliation, machete, mutilation

The following story is very extreme

If you don’t like blood and gore

Don’t read anymore

A very dark minded individual is lurking in the

shadows.

He has his favourite weapon at hand.

A big shiny machete.

He looks at the Moon

and a smile comes to his face.

It is time for a killing

As the ice water flows through his veins

He is ready to inflict some pain.

He jumps into his Ute

and he is off on the hunt

He isn’t hunting Kangaroos Goanna

Wallaby or even Bush Pigs

He is hunting Humans

As his headlights light up the night sky

He spots a lone hitch hiker standing on the

side of the highway.

He drives up to the hiker and asks him where

he is going.

The reply is ‘Alice Springs’

‘Jump on in that is where I am going’.

The hitch hiker climbs in and he goes on what will

be his last car ride.

His name is Michael a tourist from Germany

He is glad to get a lift

He has been hitching for four or five hours

Machete Man sits and listens to the German

but he has heard enough

And without even looking he swings his left arm

And he knocks the German out cold.

He drives back to his campsite

and drags the German out of his Ute

and he throws him to the ground

Earlier the Machete Man had spotted a Meat

Ant nest.

He places the German on top of the mound

He strips off all of his clothes

Then he ties him down with tent pegs and rope.

We all know that the Machete is good for hacking through

the scrub.

But it is also good for slicing

And slice he does.

One by one he inflicts about one hundred little

cuts all over the Germans body.

As the blood seeps into the ground

the nest comes alive as ten thousand Meat Ants

come out to protect their home.

They are not called Meat Ants for nothing

And they slowly start to devour the German.

The Machete Man sits watching the macbre scene

Drinking a Beer and eating a Lizard.

He might even have an appetite for some German flesh

The German can feel the Ants eating him alive

He feels them entering his nostrils seeking his

tender Brain.

The German cant do anything as the Ants slowly

eat his grey matter.

The Germans thoughts are scrambled

He is blind and he knows that his time is almost up

He says a last goodbye to his parents back home

And then he dies.

Machete Man hears him take his last breath

And he tingles with exhilaration

It feels almost as good as an orgasm.

A few days later he is sitting beside a billabong

catching some Fish for dinner.

Just then a local strolls up asks the Machete Man

how are the Fish biting

The Machete Man doesn’t even answer he swings

the Machete.

And he removes the locals arm at the elbow.

The local screams to the heavens but there is no one around

to hear.

Machete Man comes from behind and with three more swings

he removes the other arm plus both of the legs.

Then he pushes the local into the water.

Two Crocodiles are waiting

And as the body hits the water

They grab hold and roll in two different directions

The local is ripped apart into three pieces

He is eaten.

The only thing left is a pool of blood.

Again Machete Man shivers with goosebumps

He is excited with anticipation

He needs another victim.

The Machete Man is getting tired of waiting.

In the Outback you might not see another person

for a week.

Driving down a dirt track he comes across a 4WD

broken down in a creek bed.

He offers the driver the use of his Satellite phone

that he has in his Ute.

As the driver walks past to climb in

Machete Man swings his weapon once and he severs

the drivers Achilles tendon.

And with another swing he severs the other one

The driver isn’t going anywhere.

A piece of duct tape keeps the driver quiet

And he is thrown into the back of the Ute

and driven back to the camp site.

The driver is carried to the base of a tree

and leant against the truck.

The Machete is used to open up the driver

from the throat to the belly button.

His guts spill onto the ground grey and orange

intestines hit the floor

An awful stench fills the air.

Machete Man sits in his Ute and waits.

He doesn’t have to wait long

As four Dingoes trot arrive smelling the stench

The driver just sits there he cant believe that this is

really happening.

One of the Trots up and starts to eat the spilled guts.

The driver starts to thrash and moan.

Another Dingo is annoyed by the sound.

And he grabs the driver and rips out his throat

The Dingoes feast for hours

Till there is nothing left but gristle and bone.

Machete Man drags the driver and throws him onto the

Meat Ant nest.

Where he lays next to the German.

Machete Man cant believe what he is hearing

As a car approachs his camp site.

Not just a car but a Police car.

A lone female Officer asks the Machete Man if he

has seen anybody

As a 4WD has been found just a few miles away.

Machete Man says that he hasn’t seen anybody in weeks

But as the Officer starts to leave

She looks over in the direction of the Ant nest.

She scrambles for her gun

But she doesn’t quite make it.

Machete Man throws his Machete And it hits her right

between the eyes.

He lowers her to the ground

and pulls down her panties

and exposes her pubic mound

With one quick jab the machete enters her

vagina.

And with a slice he removes her clit

Then he squats over the body and drops a nasty

shit.

In the final degradation he grabs his manhood and with

a few jerks he sprays his sperm all around.

Things are getting out of control

his mind is warped

But he still has the sense to drive the Police car

into a ravine

Where it will never be found

Once again the body is placed on the Ants nest

Where the Ants are getting full to bursting.

Machete Man has taken the Officers gun and Police cap.

Time for a change of scenery and Machete Man drives all

the way to Coober Pedy.

He approaches  a Opal miner

And asks if he has a mining licence

As the miner reaches for his pocket

The Machete Man swings his fist and drops the

miner with a single punch

He is taken to Machete Mans new camp site

Where a camp fire is waiting

A skillet pan warming up

The miner is layed on the ground and his pants are pulled

down

With one slice his Scrotum is opened and his Testicles are

removed and thrown into the skillet.

But the Machete Man wants more and with a tea spoon he

gouges out the miners eyes

And they are thrown into the pan

Machete Man is delirious and he doesn’t even hear the miners

screams

The Machete Man places the cooked balls and eyes on a plate

And he approaches the miner to feed him his own parts

But the Machete Man has made a fatal mistake

Cause even though the miner is blind

His hand has found the handle of the Machete

He swings with all his might and slices the

Machete Man across the throat

Machete Man gurgles as his life flickers out

His blood seeps into the dirt staining the earth with

his evil fluid

The Machete Man and the miner die at the same time

The miner goes into the light

Machete Man into the dark

Right where he belongs.

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How Much Can A Koala Bear

17 Friday Apr 2015

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

koala, lose of habitat

Cuddles the Koala is sitting high up in a Eucalyptus

tree

Feeling down in the dumps.

He hasn’t seen his Mother in over three days

Only six months old Cuddles is finding it hard to fend

for himself.

There isn’t any good news for Cuddles his Mother has

been hit by a car.

They will never be reunited.

Cuddles is all alone in the big wide world.

He is an only child.

Cuddles is snoozing.

The oil in the Eucalyptus leaves acts like a

sleeping pill.

Koalas sleep for about 20 hours in a day.

The rest of the time is spent eating.

When Cuddles wakes he hears a strange sound.

And he watches as the trees all around him.

One by one they fall to the ground.

The sound he is hearing is the sound of a

Chainsaw.

It is a wood cutting machine.

Cuddles can only sit and watch the destruction.

In the distance is a Mountain that he has never

seen before.

The reason he has never seen the Mountain before.

Is because the trees used to block his view.

Now you can see all the way to Timbuktoo.

Cuddles hasn’t seen another Koala for over a week

He is lonely he needs some company.

It is boring eating leaves all on your own

So he has a good scratch and gives his fur

a bit of a comb.

After another 20 hour snooze Cuddles climbs

down from his tree

To try to cure his lonesome blues

But his descent hasn’t gone unnoticed

For a Wild Dog  has picked up his scent

Cuddles is just lopping along he is unaware

of the approaching Canine.

As far as he is concerned everything is fine.

But at the last second he senses the danger

If he could yell he would yell for a Park Ranger.

Cuddles and the Dog are rolling in the dirt

Cuddles lets out a grunt and writhes in pain.

He is very badly hurt.

Cuddles fights back and claws the Dog in the

eye.

The Dog lets out a yelp and loses his grip.

Cuddles has lost half of his left ear

He has a lot of cuts and scratches

and a badly bruised hip.

Cuddles scrambles back up his tree

He licks his wounds and has a bit of a cry.

He lifts his head and looks to the sky

He knows that he has had a lucky escape.

For the next year or so Cuddles recovers from

his injuries.

And he has gains a lot of confidence.

He can only hope that Dog attacks are in the

past tense.

Cuddles can feel a change as he reaches Puberty.

He has hair that wasn’t there before.

And a growth between his legs.

That female Koalas cant ignore.

Feeling all pumped up and randy he once

again ventures out of his tree.

And he lands on the back of a Numbat.

For a second there he thought it was a Cat.

Once again Cuddles climbs to the top of his tree.

Feeling a bit sorry for himself he has a look around.

And he can see the Mountain plus the whole horizon.

He hasn’t realised that all of his habitat is almost gone

Even though he isn’t very smart

Cuddles knows that this is wrong.

Cuddles is feeling stressful in a bit of a low mood

All he wants to do is sleep and eat his favourite food

His eyes are really itchy he has a dose of Conjuntivitis.

He will need al of his strength if he is going to fight this.

He also has a wet bottom caused by  the Chlamydia Organism

He has nowhere else to go

He might as well ne in a prison.

Cuddles is only one Koala but these problems affect

thousands.

Loss of habitat getting hit by cars

Diseases and Cancer affect all of the Koala populations

We should do all we can to help the Koala

After all it is a symbol of this great nation.

If we don’t do anything there will be no more Eucalyptus

trees.

Just so there can be another housing estate

Lets do something before it is too late.

Koalas cant live on fresh air alone

They need those precious leaves

Koalas need their own space if they are to thrive

They need it if they are to stay alive.

All they want to do is sleep eat and poo.

Cause if we are not careful the only place you

will see a Koala.

Is in a freaking zoo.

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The Irresponsible Tomato

11 Saturday Apr 2015

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

tomatoes, wasps

There is a very irresponsible Tomato

He goes by the name of Big Red

He doesn’t like being told what to do or say

So says his wife Ruby Red.

who always gets her way.

 

As usual Big  Red is running late

and he is captured and thrown into the back

of a very large truck.

The life of an irresponsible Tomato is really

starting to suck.

 

Big Red  and a thousand other Tomatoes are

unloaded and placed onto a conveyor belt.

But with his little green bits he hangs on for

grim death.

And he gets a bruise and a nasty little welt.

 

He doesn’t like the look of what lays ahead

He should of stayed green and remained in bed.

Cause nothing beats a life on the vine.

Swinging in the breeze is all sweet and fine.

 

Up ahead is Mr put the Tomato in the can man.

He isn’t very happy cause he can see Big Red

dragging the chain.

God irresponsible Tomatoes can be such a pain.

 

How hard can it be to go into a can

Thinks Mr put the Tomato in the can man.

Some Tomatoes are just plain stubborn

They don’t know when to give in

After all what is so bad about being sealed

inside a can of tin.

 

Big Red rolls off the conveyor belt and lands

in the handbag of a worker leaving for lunch.

He cant believe his luck and he says a silent

‘Thanks a bunch’.

The worker sits on a park bench and reaches for

her lunch.

But instead of an Apple she grabs a big juicy Tomato.

She lets out a yelp and Big Red lands on the ground

with a crunch.

 

He rolls down the hill straight into a storm water drain.

He has lost a few seeds and a bit of skin.

But there isn’t much pain.

 

As he bobs up and down in the dirty water

Big Red thinks about his wife and daughter.

Ruby Red and little Very Red.

 

Big Red starts to struggle.

If he was responsible he would have brought

an oar.

Big Red is trying his best

But he really cant take much more.

 

Just then a Possum wanders past feeling really

hungry.

He would really like a blossom

But a Tomato will do.

He doesn’t care about dirty water and a bit of poo.

 

Big Red notices the paw reaching for the prize.

But Big Red is smarter then a Marsupial.

When he went to school he was the star pupil.

 

With a bit of a shake and a bit of a roll

He exits the sewer pipe.

and he lands on a grassy knoll.

 

We know that Big Red is irresponsible

but he is also irresistible.

For a Wasp has heard the commotion

and she springs into action.

 

She intends to inject her eggs inside Big Reds

flesh.

So that her off spring has some feed.

But Big Red also has a need.

 

He needs to escape at full speed

 

He has thought of a ruse

And he rolls over and shows the Wasp a purple

bruise.

 

The Wasp has a look

she really prefers fresh fruit

So she lifts up her right foot

And she gives Big Red the boot.

 

Big Red just lays there catching is breath

Thinking about how many times he has

escaped death.

 

Just then a farmers ute comes flying down

the road.

And he squashes Big Red like a Cane Toad.

 

Big Red is not with us anymore

But at least he want end up in a can

or in a bottle of Tomato puree

Lets celebrate the life of Big Red

The irresponsible Tomato

Hip Hip Hooray.

The Irresponsible Tomato

is now just a speck in the sky

And I know I shouldn’t say this

But you cant beat Tomato sauce on a Pie.

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The Attack Of The Mutant Bamboo

08 Wednesday Apr 2015

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

bamboo, mutants

All of the paperwork has gone through

And I finally get to move into my new house.

All the packing and unpacking is a bit of a pain.

But I have nothing to lose.

But plenty to gain

I can finally relax the house is mine

I am just sitting on my back verandah.

having lunch and a beer or two.

thinking about nothing

just enjoying the view.

The next day I decide to do some gardening

Rake some leaves and tidy the yard

But after I rake the leaves

up pops a Bamboo shoot.

I let out a hell of a curse

and I squash it with my gum boot.

I go to the garden shed and I get myself

some Round Up.

I will poison that Bamboo before it can grow

anymore.

After giving it a good spray

I go inside for a good cup of Tea.

and maybe a little snooze

And hopefully no more Bamboo blues.

A few hours later after a good lay down

I watch some TV and eat some left over Pizza.

Then I go to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

I look out the kitchen window and I cant believe

my eyes.

That Bamboo that I sprayed earlier has grown

another two foot.

It is like I gave it fertilizer instead of poison.

I go outside and I dig up that Bamboo roots and

all.

I give the ground another good spray

Maybe now that Bamboo will stay away.

It is time to go to bed

I set the alarm and go to sleep.

From the Bamboo

I don’t hear a peep.

I get up the next morning to go to work

But first I need a cup of Coffee to help me

start the day.

Waiting for the kettle to boil I look out of my

kitchen window.

And for the love of God that Bamboo  has

overgrown the whole backyard.

Maybe I am dreaming am I still asleep

I rub my eyes and have another look.

The yard is full of Bamboo six feet tall.

I call work and tell them that I want be in today

It looks like that Bamboo needs another spray.

I fill the container with straight Round Up

And I go to give it a dose.

But I look at that Bamboo

and I know that it sounds strange.

But the Bamboo starts to look

back.

I feels its eyes upon me

and I realise that I am dealing with

a mutant strain.

A strain straight from hell.

I race inside before that Bamboo gets

inside my mind.

A good plant is so hard to find.

All of the excitement has gone straight

to my bowels.

And I race to the toilet.

and I grab myself a seat.

‘Oh yes that’s better’ what a relief.

Then I feel a tickle on my arse.

I look down and see a Bamboo shoot

in the water

This freaking Bamboo has no class.

I pull up my pants as fast as I can

Trying to escape Mr Bamboo Man.

I get to the bathroom door and I look

behind me.

The Bamboo is filling the whole room

It has an amazing reach.

And another thing it has grown is a set

of teeth.

Those chompers are chomping romper

stomping..

They are starting to eat my house.

Like a fuel injected Bamboo infected

Mouse.

I don’t know what to do

I don’t know where to hide.

All that I know is that the Bamboo is

playing for the other side.

The Bamboo with the pearly whites

I s eating my house bite by bite.

But I want give up without a fight

I wonder if Mr Bamboo Man has heard

the word Dynamite.

I plant twenty sticks of Dynamite around

my house and yard

I realise that I am playing my final card.

Mr Bamboo Man doesn’t care and he gives

his chompers a floss.

But I am about to show him who is boss.

Now where did I put my matches

I need to light the fuse.

I strike the match and I blow my place

sky high.

I want to see Mr Bamboo cry

As I wave him goodbye.

I can feel the earth rumble

And I can hear Mr Bamboo Man grumble

As his little world begins to crumble.

Well the explosion was heard from twenty

miles away.

And my house disappears into a whole

bunch of splinters.

Like the ice crack of a thousand winters.

Where my house stood is now just a block of

land.

Mr Bamboo Man is nowhere to be seen

That is the end of that nasty fiend.

I told my insurance company that Methane gas from

an old mine caused the explosion.

And after an investigation

they agreed with that notion.

After all what else could it be?

I now have a new home

I am stress and Bamboo free

A whole new life in front of me.

Bamboo shoots and Bamboo teeth

are a thing of the past

I am now free at last.

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The Devil’s Bottle

05 Sunday Apr 2015

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

drinking too much

When I was a little kid my family and I lived

with my Grandad.

He lived in an old house with a huge front yard.

He was a nice old fellow but sometimes he was a

little distant.

A little bit moody

You knew to keep your distance.

He would sit in his front yard with his old

transistor blaring.

The Cricket live from England

Or his favourite football team was playing

Sometimes he would listen to his favourite songs

and sometimes he would sing along.

But sometimes he would get nasty and yell and

swear and cuss.

And us kids would run inside

My Grandad liked his Whiskey.

My Grandad had his favourite spot in his

front yard.

He would sit under a bid tree.

I think it was a Wattle.

On one of his bad days he wouldn’t go

near him.

He would just go crazy screaming and

yelling abuse.

My Mother would try to calm him down

but it was no use.

She said that the drinking from the Devils

bottle had thrown a screw loose.

When I was about 13 yrs old I had my first

taste of Beer.

I felt warm and fuzzy

and my face sort of glowed.

My Grandad has been dead for a few years

by now.

But I guess he has passed on his Genes.

I have had my first sip form the Devils bottle.

When I was about 18 I started to hang with a

mate named Allan

He had a girlfriend named Teena who was always

on about his drinking.

We both worked at the same place

But instead of food Allan would have two

long necks of Beer for lunch.

And driving home after work he would have

a couple more.

Even though I liked a Beer Allan drinking left

me for dead.

He would drink three to my one.

He would drink and drive

a long neck between his legs

He would drive like a mad man and once

or twice he dragged off the Cops.

I used to hang on for grim death hoping that

I would get out of that car alive.

Somehow he never crashed and I got to live

another day.

Allan lived his life at full throttle

He really liked that Devils bottle.

Around the same time the Devil tapped me

on the shoulder and said ‘Come with me’

I followed him down a dark path.

A path go’s nowhere.

Nowhere good that is.

He showed me his collection of bottles

And he told me to take my pick.

I reached out my hand

then pulled it back real quick.

Then I reached out again

The temptation was too much.

The Devils bottle tastes so sweet

like the early morning dew

or the nectar from a honey Bee.

Or the Devils bottle can taste like poison

and ruin your whole life.

There is a Devils bottle in every house

It is the bottle you have when you have already

drank too much

The bottle you drink before you drive your car

The bottle you drink before you hit your wife.

The bottle you drink before taking your kids to

school.

So put the bottle back on the shelf

you silly old fool.

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