….price for my Sex is my love and life long to you…. to desire you always…. I wonder if the thoughts I have sometimes are trully my thoughts The more sex I have, The greater I am. Fuck no! I don’t wanna birth a baby! Born into dogma and poverty…. I want be a trophyContinue reading “Two faced hooker….”
Author Archives: Eugene Hardy
Right to Life….
White people regularly avoid me, Ignoring my greetings, some with open malice. If I’d feelings left in my bleeding heart I would feel the pain of their hatred. So do I wish them dead? I say, ‘No’. Because the universe is seemingly void of life, and our planet the only home for life. But theContinue reading “Right to Life….”
Smokin’ Rome, a poem
A man askedif I would helpwith the bucketbrigade tosave Rome fromburning. I said no, andand litmy cigarette fromamong it’s flames. I smiled atoothless grin, ~puff~
09.09.2021
I admit with a heavy heart, that I do not know how to write the things that concern me, and that’s OK. But because that doesn’t excuse me from raising my voice and pointing at obvious wrongs, it is a burden I will bear. Yes, racism is pretty bad, and the restrictions on voting rightsContinue reading “09.09.2021”
They sell themselves short….a poem.
People put up with too much; for the sake of peace, or to gain wealth. In doing so they swallow their pride and then stop listening to their inner voice. For a since of peace They will gladly abandon their homes and sacrifice their children. Only to buy homelessness. For wealth they sell their soulsContinue reading “They sell themselves short….a poem.”
….by the way, you’re bleeding to death….a poem
Insult turned to brawling, turned to wars without end…. We’ve bled you and I, for country, glory and and excuses. Death comes to us all, so we are not afraid of dyin’, But how and why we die? I remember dyin’, a spear through my heart, seekin’ glory. No one remembers me. Will anyone rememberContinue reading “….by the way, you’re bleeding to death….a poem”
6 Mile and Woodward Ave., a poem
Old litter sit in gutterswhile ladieswalk the corner, onereceiving prayer. The coffee cups aren’t free,But you can buy it with coffee. I’ve never been this far awayfrom home,only to find6 Mile and Woodward Ave. But isn’t that cornereverywhere?
08.12.2021
I realize that I write as form mercilessly self torture. That my writings could help change someone’s life by perhaps not repeating my mistakes. But there is no way that I can tell that people have changed their lives because of something I have posted. But I write. It is my hope that there isContinue reading “08.12.2021”
Docile Dating Pool, a poem
Women are beautiful,
But can’t date or sleep
with them.
A state of civil war….a poem
I’m at war,with the unincorporatedSelf and it’s allies,society. We were not always enemies,But whole,With a single purpose:To exist, grow and prosper. Lean, lightly muscled with a clear mind. Now, we are a state ofCivil war. My enemies will join me,or die.
Liferaft in the Abyss 