Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
Flowing fields of black
Roses the hue of night
Dark meadow take me home
Relieve me of my fright
And take me back.
Blackened fields of ashy rose
Take me to my home
Where I'll never see the sun again
Where I'll never hate
And never bend
Where we only see in shades of gray
Where summer sun has shone its last
And November wind is here to stay.
Where I can go forget my past
And never have to pay
For the things I've done.
Blackened fields of ashy rose
Take me to your home
Where we all see in shades of gray
And I can rest in the coldly blowing wind.
Forget my face forget my name
Forget my form forget my sin
Let me stay and waste away
Please won't you take me in?
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
Take a grip and heave the hammer
As they come marching in
Meet the gates with all your might bounce it out and do it right
Don’t let those bastards win.
I split my head became enamored
With the evil soul within
I fought for glory I fought for Jesus
Now I’m spit on once again.
I’ve tried my body you’ve tried my temper
I can’t believe I can’t remember what happened then in mid December
When I held the hammer with all the glamour
At the church bell’s sound I brought it down
To feel that tingle in my skin.
Again!
Again!
Again!
To feel that tingle in my skin!
Now I sit upon the church’s steeple and look around at all the people
Staring with their wide-eyed fright.
My hands are red your face is null I hear the bell and feel the pull
To raise the hammer with all the glamour to kill you with this final blow.
I look I stare I breathe it in I feel that tingle in my skin
The hardened power so acute so harshly gruesome so absolute
That I just have to grin,
You’re my sweetest sin.
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
Vigilante
He walked in the door
a little John Wayne
a little Jesus Christ
six foot tall
giant guns on his hips
so emaciated you can count all his ribs.
twelve bullets flew and
twelve persons fell
reload
repeat
the deafening clash never ended
until all you could count was the dead.
He stood among patrons
of the local pub
and made a decision
like he always does
that he would never do this again,
never again
see the blood on their faces
and blood on the floor
but forever carry
their blood on his hands.
He sighed,
sheathed his hard steel
turned on his heel
and walked right back out that door.
That wasn’t the first time
and wasn’t the last
that he shot the hot lead
and dropped steaming brass
leaving no trace
but the spent cartridges strewn about.
He knocked the dust off his boots
and kept walking on
humming a tune
couldn’t remember the song
unsheathed his steel
and just let them play on
that deafening clash never ended.
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2008
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
On the darkest night
Our judgment day
We wait in line for our retribution.
The teeming masses
Line up at the gates
Marching glassy-eyed toward execution.
One mind opened
And then another
Resulting in a riotous pulse.
The rebellious mob
Ignoring the gates
Rips down the walls to gain entry.
On the darkest night
Our judgment day
Another God has been burned to ashes.
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
High above the city streets
I thrash and roll and grind my teeth
At the atrocities down below.
I just can’t stand to be so near
The screams the cries the pain the fear
Of the weakness that they show.
I just look on with distaste
And prey upon the lives they waste
Shoving them on to death’s door.
They can’t refuse they can’t deny
They’ve met their end it’s time to die
So I step down and wage my war.
Mingled in the city streets
I use my hands I use my teeth
To send them all on down below.
Release the hate release the fear
I slice them all from ear to ear
And they all die in the electric glow.
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
The watcher's eyes go blind
Society tumbles
Deafening silence spreads
As our civilization crumbles
The masses try to flee
Time cannot be outrun
Finally the time has come
The human race is done
The watcher's eyes can see
The justice in a flood
Earth is taken back
Stained with all our blood
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
The fighting stopped.
I opened my eyes
And looked down the tunnel
That ends in white light
Dazedly walking forward
I pay no attention
To the sound of my feet
On the sticky floor
Ignoring the warmth.
My senses evade
The revolting smell.
Then I trip and fall down
With a glutinous splash
As I realize
That the road to heaven
Is covered in blood
I disgorge my entire self
And I’m diluted
Into madness.
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
A cold hard military
signed up for a bloodbath
marching two by two
down the path to oblivion.
Row by row
with cargo in tow
Their blackened hollowed eyes see their end.
Hand in hand
they meet their Gods and all their Devils
they have their picks
they have their shovels
to dig their shallow graves
just to realize an end
at last
they won't be saved.
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
The diabolical plot
To end all our lives
Has begun.
Slowly circling the drain
We bicker and fight ourselves
Into extinction
We cut and shoot ourselves
Into oblivion
We jettison our legacy
Into obscurity.
The nefarious plot
To end all our lives
Has begun.
Programmed into our tiny brains
We give up and give in
To our fate
We submit and comply
to this destiny
We abide and indulge
This providence.
We do nothing to help ourselves.
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Harold Grimes Iii Poem
Each morning
I think of a reason
Not to kill myself.
Each morning
I trust my judgment
Less and less.
Each afternoon
I keep wondering
Why I keep going on.
Each afternoon
I resent the children
And their happy ignorance.
Each evening
I put the gun in my hand
Finger on the trigger.
Each evening
I put the gun down
I'm too afraid.
Each day
Takes a little more
Of my happiness.
Each day
Shows me bitterly
How it could have been.
Each of you
Look away
Blindly.
Each of you
Won't notice me
Disappear.
Each bullet
In this weapon
Sings a song to me.
Each bullet
Hums the tune
Of sweet release.
Each and every day
I imagine
The end.
Each and every day
Isn't today.
Copyright © Harold Grimes Iii | Year Posted 2007
|