Punk Poetry (poem) by Kevin S. Hart on AuthorsDen

Punk Poetry
by Kevin S. Hart → (All Poetry by Kevin S. Hart)
Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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This is a collage. I've borrowed, here and there, lines, phrases, concepts from what I guess would now be something that qualifies as nostalgic. Since I grew up during the "punk" revolution, I thought I'd pay a small homage to it.
Oi, Ned! Joey, Sid, plasmatic Wendy All those Kennedy’s, dead Slammed broken, choked chords Napalm bridges on center stage Blood and chocolate spittle, Ignored convention, set life up As a black eye, in your face musical dare It didn’t have to be pretty to sing. Challenged Queen Liz: pogue mahon Watched talking heads devolve Slip into a void, “Hey, Romeo! God, I might like you better if we slept together…” Banged up bodies, generated steam heat Friday’s angels, animal boys, typical girls Frenzied screwing to punk rock beat What, you expected rhythm? The exploited played mental hopscotch Missing persons on milk cartons Old Mother Reagan just said “No!” Life’s a scream when you add it up Cruise missiles showed the world who’s boss One plus one still equals less than zero Maggie gave the Argies a minor threat Write that on a pound note, Sheena Laugh. You think that maybe God’s got a sick sense of humor? Unguarded moments, nave of the church So pretty in pink, whip it out Can you think of any better place Whip it good, a fully loaded sex pistol? Stroll past pews, orgasm in hand Stream psychedelic fur in lectors’ face Never mind the bollocks, hypocrites Everything you told us was right to stand for What’s so funny about peace Love, understanding, the dole’s reality? Never let ‘em know, if they should stay Or really should go, too much trouble Saccharine disco, rock candy ballads Clashed with combat rock, sent spiders flying Lost a chance to hold obscene Sweet bird of truth to inertia’s comfort Forgot that life is supposed to be Raw chainsaw bite, quick glue sniff Baseball bat to the side of the head Nothing to lose, nothing to prove Bathed wet with buzzcock sweat You’re one of the damned, Dance with yourself.

Reviewed by Sheila Roy

Reviewed on May 14, 2009

Whipped it real good. Great job taking us back. Lots of different images here. Hugs,
Sheila

Reviewed by Natasha Bowman

Reviewed on July 30, 2008

Ah!
This is delightful!
I'm generally not one to use exlamation marks, but ...
AH!
Wonderfully refreshing.

Reviewed by Lori Garrison (Reader)

Reviewed on September 16, 2006

I Love it! On my space I have a written "I Miss the Ramones" and boy do I! Thank You for this! It was great! Joey would have loved it!

Reviewed by Alexandre Arnau

Reviewed on June 14, 2006

oh, yes. this is right. you took me back a ways, to days spent on skateboards, boombox in hand with a bad brains tape glued in the tape deck. the roir album was the soundtrack to my youth in them days, with every sunday afternoon spent at cbgb's hardcore matinees. now i'm older,though not much wiser, and the cold thought hits me that our gods are dying off. joey and johnny, wendy o., and most of all, the great joe strummer. sometimes i wonder if those years of my youth were wasted; then i read something like this, and i realize i was part of something bigger than myself, and i wasted nothing.

thank you for this poem.

Reviewed by Paul Williams

I'm pogoing away to this one Kevin, good work, like the concept brings back lots of happy memories...Hey ho! Lets Go!

Paul;-)

Oi, Ned! Joey, Sid, plasmatic Wendy