Tuesday, April 3, 2018

ARE WE THERE YET




ARE WE THERE YET?

www.batkar.artistwebsites.com


Stop the car
are we there yet?

My drawers are soggy
and awfully wet.

Pee is seeping down....
Speed up and turn down the heat!!
I feel wetness in the seat.

Pull off!!
Detour now!!!
Stop over there
I see a rest stop.
Come on, Come on
Hurry it up.

Oooops...TOO LATE.




































































THE CHOPPING BLOCK




THE CHOPPING BLOCK

www.batkar.artistwebsites.com


A blacksmith's anvil
an editors splicing playground.
The guillotine and the basket
befall the head of the cock.

To sever the spine
and spurt the blood
and drain the virus from the rock.

The callused palm of a wanton girl
stroked the manhood of her frail lover.
Inching towards orgasm
ever pulsating
never relenting.
Flesh against a tender organ
as friction teased the enlarged taste buds
under the mushroom hill.

A last stroke
a dying spurt.
And the gentle talons
latched onto the withering muscle
as one life came to an end.












































































THE FISH AND THE HOOK



THE FISH AND THE HOOK




On a sodden stream bank
a pack lunch with gramps and me.
To teach me the art of fly casting
by an octogenarian, a dying symbol of fertility.

Casting
The bamboo rod
A Peninsula in the mist.

The line
titillating the ripples
as it skipped the waters edge,
taunting virgin gills
to a throat tearing breakfast.

An eager mouth
lurching into the morning air
swallowing the hot shrapnel  

Pain....sheer panic.
Pain....sickening pain.

The burning hook ripping the slippery esophagus
until finally digging deep into the gills.
Blood and segments of flesh
fill his mouth.

The pain...sheer pain.
Must stop the pain.
But how?


















DRAGON WITH A GREEN THUMB




DRAGON WITH A GREEN THUMB






Pot the Spruce
trim the Pines
Crush...stomp....Down to nine.

Edge the grass
water the dates
Wham..crash...Alas just eight.

Fan the willows
and clip the tulips
Whoosh...thrash.  7 down to six.

Hoe the maples
and de-flea the dogwoods
Bounce...bump.  Five to four.
Soon to be no more..

Pick the carnations
and fluff the roses
Squash...splat.  Down to one.
The dragon may have the green thumb
but all the girls giggle at his black and blue bum!!






CHRISTMAS FOR JIMMY





CHRISTMAS FOR JIMMY


www.batkar.artistwebsites.com



The house looked ever so dandy
with a tall Spruce covered in candy
Bulbs and lights blazed in the sky
directing Santa and his deer where to fly.

To my house, this is the one
the others can wait, come, come, come!!!

Alas the gifts tumbled down the chimney
Santa signed each with, "To Jimmy."

My father and mother just watched in delight
at me in his zany youthful flight.
I yanked and pulled, clipped and tore
starting with the largest until alas no more.

It's too bad Christmas comes but once a year.
It's a time of presents, love and genuine cheer.




















































BILLY THE BULLY




BILLY THE BULLY



www.batkar.artistwebsites.com



Billy the bully lived on my street
and when in need of money
he would hang me upside down from my feet.

He took my money and beat me until I was blue
and he would laugh and snort
and glue my hands to my ears with monkey glue.

I would tell my mother, but what could she do?
She would call Billy the bully on the phone
and threaten to sue.

This lasted till I reached the age of ten
when Patsy the pusher moved onto our block
and put Billy the bully's reign of terror to an end.

At the innocent age of ten and weighing close to 120 stone
6 foot 3 and mean as a bobcat
she proceeded to break Billy's foot bone.

And I being quick to take advantage of my luck
befriended her
married her
and to this day we are stuck.
































































GROUNDED FOR LIFE




GROUNDED FOR LIFE


www.batkar.artistwebsites.com



I've never seen mom so mad as yet
the day I flushed the dead hamster down the toilet.
Her face contorted from a beloved mother into a rat
and I feared retaliation from old sparky, the baseball bat.

"Get me the plunger," she did demand
and quick as the roadrunner it was in her hand.

"The other end if you don't mind"
"This is to unplug from behind!"

And a plunging and a pushing she set to work
a clank, bash, dink, and a quirk.

All the plunging lodged Lucky further into the drain.
"Get me a bulldozer, a plumber, or a crane!"

"We have none of the above," I said.
"Another peep out of you and I'll use your head!"

And grabbing the pliers she started to turn
The pipe gurgled, burped, and churned.
Water burst from every leak
Mother got soaked from head to feet.

A giggle itched deep in my belly
rolling, turning, bumbling like green jelly.

Mad as a bee mom grabbed for a knife.
"Keep laughing and you'll be grounded for life!"

She thrust the cleaver into the bowl
for one valiant attempt to dislodge Lucky from the hole.

"I give up," screamed mother!!!
"Where's the yellow pages, I need a plumber!"









TO GRAMPS




TO GRAMPS






To my oldest and best friend
a friend in need is there till the end.
I'll stand by your side and hold your hand
buy you flowers and dream of you in a distant land.

And when I get old and gray
by your grave I will pass away.

When I wake and get judged by The Man
I hope you will stand tall for me and touch my hand.
For a true friend is there in the beginning
in the middle
and in the end.

PAIN IN THE BUTT




PAIN IN THE BUTT





Oooooh what is that pain?
It starts in my back
and spreads throughout my little frame.

I yell, plead and start to cry.
Stop, stop, before I die!!!!

They may be smarter, but next time they will look
Dear old pop hurt his hand spanking my book.

In my pants it will stay
It should come in handy for another naughty day!!






A KID WITH THE FLU




A KID WITH THE FLU





Flue time
not feeling too good
Mite need a doctor
for a needle shot
Maybe some pepacillin.
Don't like it much
But what can I do
I'm just a 5 year old with the flew.

(written through the eyes of a 5 year old boy)




Tuesday, October 2, 2012

LEARNING THE LAW



LEARNING THE LAW ONE FIST AT A TIME:




(Bond Is Back, by robert margetts)



My brother Burt was speeding around the house
on his new tricycle
so, I gave him a ticket for reckless driving
and another ticket for not wearing his seatbelt.

He claimed racial profiling
and sexual harassment
and proceeded to punch me in the nose.
I gave him another ticket for salt and butter,
but he tore it up in my face
and raced back off into the living room.

An hour later I walked into the kitchen
and saw him playing with my Monopoly game.
I yelled for him to stop,
place both hand behind his head,
and back slowly away from the box.

Burt smiled back at me and said it was his,
and that he had claimed imminent Domain over my property.
He didn't stick around to argue semantics,
or defecation of character.
All I know is that he smelled
and he looked mighty stupid in the eyes of the law.

Burt just flung up his fists and warned me
about his right to bear arms
and these were the two he was going to use on me
if I didn't stop harassing him.

My sister Lonnie was playing in the other room
with her new Barbie Doll,
not paying any attention to either of us.
Burt walked into the room,
grabbed Barbie by her torso,
broke her in half
and said she no longer had a leg to stand on.
He chucked to himself
and handed the wounded doll back to Lonnie.

Since Row versus Wade
gave him the right to choose between
the pursuit of happiness for everyone in this house,
he could damn well do as he pleased.

And, if he wanted to break some bones
or if he wanted to take what was not his,
then so be it.
The law protected him from unlawful seach and seizure
and the law afforded him the right to bare false
witness against his neighbor.

Yes sir, Row Versus Wade made that blatantly clear
and for Burt, it could be no clearer than that.
For Burt was heading to law school
just as soon as he finished third grade

I told him that he was dead wrong
and that it was Brown versus The School Board decision
that endowed us with certain unalienable rights
of life, puberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
And, if he wanted to argue the facts of the law,
I would be more than happy to ask Mommy to be the judge and jury.

Burt just smiled
gave me the finger
and said,
"you win, dude"








www.batkar.artistwebsites.com

www.batkar.artistwebsites.com


















Monday, December 12, 2011

WEAPONS OF TIME




WEAPONS OF TIME


(painting by Robert Margetts)


Through the archways they did come
through the millennium of time
from Khan to Hitler
from John Wilkes Booth
 to James Earl Ray
From the bronze era
 to the atomic era
to the nuclear era
each bearing his own form of hardened steel

Pride, honor and vengeance
Distrust, loathing and power
Evil and corruption
filled the damp granite halls
as the soldiers of time trampled upon the rustic cobblestones
in their sullied boots

A nod of recognition here
a shove and a scowl there
they clutched to their insidious weapons
like starve ridden babies clinging to a full breast.

Maidens bustled in tight corsets
swayed to the rhythmic tones
that bubbled from their flutes.

The soldiers of time
stood to attention
awed by these ladies of the night.
These soft creatures dressed in white
so pure of hatred
and so innocent of crime.
With hungry eyes and scarred lips
did so desire to fill their needs
The few sober took to the ale
like jackals to rotten flesh.

The first to fall,
the gallant knight
 entombed in his dented armor
He lowered his nail studded mace
and let it fall deep into the hungry moat
Pride and deceit vanished
deep into the silty mud
To the seeker of the Holy Grail
forgiveness from the boy Ward.
In the house of Arthur, the knight was reborn.

The cowboy nodded to the knight,
holstered his pistol
removed his belt
and handed
it to the blacksmith.

Honor and dishonesty
vengeance and hate
were quickly hammered into the form of a horseshoe.
Billy The Kid doffed his dusty cap
and extended the hand of truce,
the branch of clemency.
And for the first time
he shook the hand of the sheriff
And he too was reborn that day,
in the house of Garrett.

The musketeer watching from afar
dropped his bloodstained foil
With a clank upon the courtyard stones
revenge tricked from his murderous blade
The fanning weeds
that fought for space between the crevices
licked the sanguine weapon clean of hate

For the first time in 100 years
Romeo looked upon Juliet
And Capulet
 And Montague
were reborn in the house of Shakespeare


 Hiding in the dark alcove
near the winding stairs stood the most evil,
the most powerful and sinister of creation past.
Clutched in his rawboned fist
and holding the world at bay
Stupidity and hypocrisy tucked in his back pocket
in the form of a bribe
Too weak
Too tired
to fight the soothing array of notes
that placated this once vicious crowd.

He opened his bony hand and dropped the hideous vial into the moat
and with it the secrets of destruction
were quickly swallowed up
 in the murky cool waters.
Bending down to his knees
he did cry
for that day
in the house of humanity
Einstein was reborn

And for the first time, 
since the Seventh day of creation
The creator of dust
and the maker of steel was happy
for in eleventh hour of the day
his faith in humans,
was reborn. 
And he cried
and he cried
for all his children.






The dome in Hiroshima, Japan.  It was one of the very few building that survived the Atomic bomb.  (I took this picture back in April of 1885) 




The hand of death


(painted with Acrylic paint, December 2011 by Robert Margetts)

Monday, November 21, 2011

THE LAST RIDE HOME





(The Motorcycle Accident that killed Kim Hubert, by Robert Margetts..Acrylic paint on canvas)



To my friend
for I cannot speak
words are written through another man


I am sorry,
sorry it ended this way
The pain I caused by my foolish act


I took another life,
not in self defense
And, I took a little of you with me


Forgive me, but do not forget me
for I shall never forget you


And when you are older
take pity on a young fool

Learn from my mistakes
Never again will I touch
Never again will I cry
Never again will I dream
or savor the feel of water upon my lips


But, remember this,
I walk near you at all times
And when you cry for me,
my memories grow stronger


Remember me
Please remember me....










HUMAN ERROR





(Human error, by Robert Margetts)


Walk with my thoughts
and learn from this cadaverous face
Cry for my pain
and die with the human race...

Breathe my air
and see through my sanguinary eyes
Listen to the hungry children
Can you hear their cries?

Crawl with my severed leg
and touch with my charred hand
Learn from my dry lips
bleeding words into our land..

This is the ballad of our future
We are to blame,
for we are man.

THIS COLD HEART



(Johnny Cash taking ten, by Robert Margetts)

Chilling hearts and freezing nights
and another log burns into tiny embers
as the winds of past whisper tales outside my frozen door.


It was a time when heroes walked in true silence
and tormented children cried into the black night.
It was a time of death in mid light
and evil prowled the Earth for food.


Where trees once stood tall, now gave way to decaying old stumps.
It was a time when love was slavery,
but the chains of obligation that were linked together by iron memories
had weakened and tarnished.


And then as the rising sun met the high wind,
she appeared.
To climb the pyramids of Egypt
To walk the paths of Plato.
She bathed in the Seas of China
and touched the Rock of Gibraltar.
She drank from the cup of Erasmus
and haggled in the bazaars in Istanbul.


It was a time of friendship
of loving one another and making dreams
and crying about tomorrow.
It was a time when friends held hands and believed in today.
And, when the sun set, she went with it.


Memories..
Can you tell me where they go at night?
Memories...
Can you tell me why they won't come back?

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

FORGOTTEN TIMES


FORGOTTEN TIMES




Texas Bull
carved from pine and painted with acrylics.

When you no longer have feelings
and you slow dance alone

And time canters by as the last
unicorn fades into the future,
carrying with him a new maiden

When you no longer need to be touched
or hear Romeo’s unspoken words
and loneliness creeps inside your
covers at night and wraps his
cold arms about you

When your tears rain in twilight memories
and your hands no longer reach out for help
stop, and take one moment to embrace
the loved ones that your left behind.

A PEANUT BUTTER FROG SANDWICH


A PEANUT BUTTER FROG SANDWICH




painting by Robert Margetts
(and not very good at that!!!)
Froggy, froggy, you look so glum
With crunchy peanut butter on your bum

Hidden inside two pieces of bread
Grape jelly dripping down your head

Not so good, not so fun
Quick, jump out before you’re done!!

THE GOOD DIE YOUNG







(painting by r.margetts) 
THE GOOD DIE YOUNG

In the hours of revelation
As death suffocates the night
Memories will dance before your eyes
And silent tears bleed self pity

The pain trickles in
And life flickers into Prometheus’ child
As images foreshadow the past

In the silence of death
Lonely and wrinkled
Warmth of the flickering flame
Bribing cold bones

Death wins
And another life becomes a shadow of the flame.

WOOGLE DOOGLE MONSTER


THE WOOGLE DOOGLE MONSTER




The Woogle Doogle Monster
(I think he is still living under my bed) carved from oak with acrylic paint

He’s mean and crude
Not my most favorite dude.

His teeth are yellow and green with slime
He walks like an ape
And is never on time

His arms are big and hairy
And at first glance, rather scary.

With a snort of his snoot
And a twitch of his chin
He passes gas at the drop of a pin

He’s kind of crude and a bit mean
Awfully fat and definitely not clean

But as monsters go
I must say
My Woogle Doogle Monster is a OK.