BOBBY Z - POEMS

BOBBY Z is an avid writer and Blogger, also has video’s, audio’s a podcast and has Authored the Book Tales Of The Junkyard Dog. A rather abrupt and unusual Collection of Poems providing insightful and comical commentary on life, the Convergence of the past and the present, and the trails and tribulations of
Relationships---BLOG  https://talesofthejunkyarddog.wordpress.com

  FALSE PROPHETS
​

False Prophets, since the beginning of time.
                       One hand in your pocket, while attempting to control your mind.
 
                                 Never doubt them, they’re cunning and very clever.
                       Once they get their hooks into you, you’re lost to them forever.
 
                                      They enter your life, with visions of grandeur.
                             Then pick your pockets, leaving you smelling like manure.
 
                                          Thru-out mankind, always able to adapt.
                             Once caught in the act, they always swear it was a bum rap.
 
                        Kings and Queens and me and you, have fallen prey to their advice.
                     Always resolving themselves of blame, declaring life’s a roll of the dice.
 
                             Promising the world, but only interested in bleeding you dry.
                         So good at disguise, many welcome them and never question why.
 
          Once they’re in they never leave, until they relieve you of your senses.
                    Impossible to keep them out, neither gates or even fences.
 
                        Similar to a snake charmer, they’ll lull you off to sleep.
                                Once awaken, all is lost only left with grief.
 
                    Many of us have known one, and many of us we have been.
                     Could be the next door neighbor, or even your next of kin.
 
                        Impossible to detect them, till they take all your worth.
                  False Prophets till the end of time, shall forever roam the earth.
 ​

            WHO WE ARE 

                          Far,Far, Far away
                        There was a time.
                        When you were older.
                        Than you are today.

                         A time so long ago.
                         It hides from you.
                         Yet faint memories.
                         Haunt you thru the day.

                         Remembering when you might have been.
                         A soldier marching on Rome.
                         Or possibly a Ancient Mariner.
                         Anxious to return home.

                         Working on the Pyramids.
                         Or making pots of earthen clay.
                         Were we here once before.
                         And have we ever passed this way.

                         How many times have you felt.
                         That you may have been someone else.
                         At another time another place.
                         It was you yet not yourself.

                         Ancient thoughts and forbidden times.
                         Arouse you deep inside.
                         A product of the ages.
                         Can't remember how many times you died.

                    Who Are We #2

​                              The time has come.
                              The time has gone.
                            Dreams of yesterday’s.
                         Fade away thru the years.
 
                           What could have been.
                       If not for what has occurred.
                                Given a chance.
                        Would we have succeeded.
 
                          Going thru life dreaming.
               Was it easier being what we have been.
                               Instead of being.
                       What we could have been.
 
                  To be what we could have been.
           Instead of being what we should have been.
            Did we try to be what we were meant to be.
     Or did we just become what we did not want to be.
 
               Mentor’s and Surrogate’s along the way.
                Wanting us to be what they have been.
              Attempting to prevent us from becoming.
                           What we wanted to be.
 
                            To be what we wanted to be.
                 Meant not being what we were meant to be.
         Preventing us from becoming what we should have been.
Becoming someone who became someone we were not meant to be.
 
                             So to be what we want to be.
             Meant not becoming what we were meant to be.
                           Or what others wanted us to be.
                                      Then who are we.
 
                                  Sit and wonder what.
                                    It would have been.
                                   To be someone else.
                      Instead of being what we have been.

If Walls Could Talk

  If walls could talk, what would they say,
                           with all that was said,
                            forever stored away.

    Think about what was said, concealed from sight,
                             yet never to be heard,
                 might reveal anger, pain or delight.

       Words said in anger, yet others said with regrets,
                              others said with love,
                               the walls never forget.

        If they could talk, what would they want to be told,
                                     words said alone,
                      should always remain unknown.

            The walls are talking, yet never to be revealed,
                               secrets only you can hear,
                              shall forever remain sealed.
​

CHAPTER 9 (FRIDAY NITE @ THE BUCKET OF BLOOD BAR)

​ ITS NOW 12AM and as usual in walks The Silver Fox, also known


as Alfonso Scalfani. As usual he is dressed to the nine, without a


Silver hair out of place. The Fox or Al as he is sometime known, is


very particular about his hair. He has on a Black Suit, with a black


shirt and a white tie, with pointy black shoes, that could kill


Cock A Roaches in a corner, a pinky ring and a full head of silver


hair. He goes to the barber once a week, and only let's Luigi touch


his hair. Apparently Luigi comes from the town in Sicily, that the


Foxes family came from in Sicily. He also likes to get a shave, first


the hot towel on his face, then the shaving cream, and then the


straight razor. Luigi is the only one that can get a straight razor


that close to his throat. He use to have jet black hair, but it


started turning grey at a very early age.


    The Silver Fox is a Made man, and made his Bones many year ago.


he whacked someone that was going to blow the whistle on some top


mob Good Fellows. He made it look like a street robbery that went


bad. The higher up big boys were very impressed with him, and he


immediately became their go to guy.   


    The Fox has many victim's, in one pocket he has a cigarette


lighter that resembles a gun, and in the other pocket he has a gun


the size of the cigarette lighter. When once asked why such a small


gun, he responds that it's easy to conceal and that once the gun is


put behind someone's ear, it makes no difference about the size of


the gun, the victim is going down. It also does not make much noise.


It should work, because he has 12 successful hits to his credit.


    Slippery Eddie makes sure that Silver Fox has his usual seat


at the end of the bar next to the telephone booth, so he can see


who and what is happening around him. Slippery Eddie serves him his


favorite drink, a bottle of Rolling Rock Beer, with no glass, and


a shot of Old Grand Dad. The Fox throws up a Ten and tells Eddie to


keep the change.


    The Fox tells Slippery Eddie to come closer, and quietly reminds


him that he is suppose to meet the Fox downtown, Wednesday night.


the Fox has a very lucrative Loan Shark business, and uses Slippery


Eddie whenever he has customers that become problem payers(stiffs).


Eddie is very good with his hands, and has been working with the Fox


for a couple of years. Eddie pick's up a lot of extra cash this way.


The Fox has a small candy store downtown, that he uses as a front,


and the back room, has much blood on the floor. In the front there


is a large counter, with candy, Italian cigars, a rack behind the


counter with cigarette's and a large cooler with Italian ice's. The


store is run by the Fox's brother, who has some brain damage. The


Fox is very protective of his brother, because of a promise he made


To his mother years ago, just before she died.



    The Fox got his start, by becoming a Number's Runner when he


quit school at 17 years old. He worked for Tony The Gent, who also


was the local Loan Shark. The Fox was only 24 years old when Tony


The Gent got wacked, so he took over the business. The Fox had


already made his Bones, so the higher up's had no problem with him


taking over the business. Also he was on the list to become a Made


man.


    Besides being a loan shark, the Fox also has a crew of three


(3) of the biggest nastiest Mother Fucker's that ever lived. One


of their most lucrative money makers is robbing high stake illegal


card games. They do one or two a week, and they also are good at


stealing high end cars. They have someone that ships them overseas,


or have them cut up for parts. They must always keep busy, because


they all have to pay the Vig, every week. The Fox hand picked the


three of them, and they all are aware that they have to kick Up


every week.


    Slippery Eddie asks the Fox what he is up to tonight, and he


tells Eddie that he is headed downtown to the Blue Flamingo bar,


for a going away party for one of his Dearest Friends. His friends


name is Vinny The Bull, and he is headed to the Can (prison) for


three years for Atrocious Assault and Battery. He apparently caught


some Spook in bed with his girlfriend. The party is a typical one


for those either just going in or just coming out. And is used as


a means to raise money for the family while they are serving time,


or to get them started once they get out.


    And as usual the Feds will have a truck parked nearby, taking


pictures of everyone entering or leaving. And as usual everyone will


be Mooning the Feds truck. The Fox tells Eddie that he has an


envelope with $1000.00 for Vinny.


    It is now about 12:30 am, and the Fox is just sitting in his


Corner silently observing all the various activities that are taking


Place. Stash's banker broker games, $50 dollar 8 ball games, and


$20 dollar shuffle board games. He comes in only once a week and


May stay no more than a hour, nurse his beer and enjoy the action.


    All of a sudden a fight breaks out right next to the Silver


Fox. Two friends have had too much to drink, and have started to


Beat each other up. Big Stash gets up from his Banker Broker game,


Cold cocks one, who hits the floor, and Slippery Eddie now has a


Black Jack and whacks the other one. Big Stash grabs both of them


And throws them out the door. There is a unwritten law at the


Bucket Of Blood Bar, if you are thrown out, you don't come back in


Until next week, and you keep your mouth shut or you may get a


Beating that you will never forget. As Big Stash returns to his seat


The Silver Fox stands up and claps, and says good job boys.


    The two empty seats next to the Silver Fox, are quickly filled


By two low level Wise Guys, who do not realize at first that the


Silver Fox is sitting next to them. Once they realize it, they start


Kissing the Fox's ass, and offering to buy him a drink. Of course


The Fox decline's but instructs them to buy the bar instead, which


They do. Slippery Eddie whacks them for $25.00 and pockets an


Additional $5.00. They see what is going on, but do not say a word.


The Fox nods his approval, and winks at slippery Eddie.


    It is now 12:50AM and the Fox Calls over Slippery Eddie, and


Gives him a hug, and tells him he is on his way downtown, and not


To forget to meet him Wednesday. The show of respect that The Silver


Fox gives to Slippery Eddie, does not go un-noticed by the rest of

'

The bar.


    The two wanna-bee's that were sitting next to the Fox, call


Slippery Eddie over, and ask him what is his connection with the


Silver Fox. Slippery Eddie very cautiously answers with the


following. We went to different schools together. The wanna-bees


slowly turn looking very puzzled at each other, slowly finish their


drinks, each throw a five on the bar, and very quietly walk out the


door. Slippery Eddie quickly pockets the two fives, and the seats


are immediately filled.


    Slippery Eddie works the bar like he has on a pair of Roller


Skates. He is on his second tip jar, which is a gallon jug, and the


Clips in his pocket, has been emptied twice. He's been at it since


4pm, and shows no means of slowing down. The bar is almost three


Deep, the cash register has been emptied three times, into the


Safe below the bar so it looks like another profitable Friday nite


For the owner Joey D.


    Many at the bar have various jobs that keep them busy most of


The week, either driving a truck, working long hours on the Rail-


Road, or overtime at the many local Factories. They may only come


In on a Friday to cash their checks, and come back later to be with


Their friends. Most leave with a half a bag on, and when they get


Home, may want to get laid, but either fall asleep, or can't get it


Up, or get cut off by their wife. Wake up Saturday afternoon, and


Back to the bar, get drunk again, go back home and fall asleep, and


Sunday morning, everyone goes to church like nothing has happened,


And Monday morning back to work again.


    The juke box has been going non-stop, and everyone is now


singing In The Still Of The Night. But it doesn't take much, that when


the music stops, the shit hits the fan, and a fight starts. Such is


Friday Nite At The Bucket of Blood Bar.

ANCIENT TIMES--ANCIENT PLACES   ​

           Ancient Times--Ancient Places.
                Crawling thru time--Searching for answers.

                How did we get here.--Where have we been.
 Were we all here once before--Did we end and then again begin.

                 How many times--Have we passed this way.
               Walking thru our ashes--Searching for a past.

                       Lost cities--Monuments lost in time.
         Is there a hidden message--were they ever meant to last.

        The Pyramids, Mayan Temples--The Great Wall of China.
 The Bible, Koran and many others--Is there only one true Messiah.

                     Many civilizations--Have risen and fallen.
                     Was it by desire--Or was it another calling.

                    Clues of the times--Lay buried away forever.
                           To not be ever seen--Forever, never.

                      Lost in time--Ancient Times,Ancient Places
            Are we all a product--Of far away Distant Outer Spaces.
​

  Stolen Memories

 Stolen memories,
      that disappear from sight,
      gone forever,
      memories that have now expired.

      Faded memories,
      gone without a trace,
      to late to remember,
      no longer to regret.

      Memories that once haunted you,
      never again to be feared,
      memories of joy,
      never again to be revealed.

      Memories once golden,
      now lay tarnished & dull,
      never again to be expressed,
      never again to be revived. 

      Memories so precious,
      yet to soon to forget,
      leaves us wondering,
      why were they ever allowed to exist.

      Memories so many,
      memories so few,
      memories shall always remain.
      memories shall always reveal.
​

Memories/Tomorrows      
​

                   Visions of yesterdays,
                 colliding with tomorrows,
                        to forever be lost,
      condemning the future to constant sorrow.


                  Diluted by future tomorrows,
                     never again to be recast,
                         to redeem the past,
               the journey must forever last.

                  Memories of days gone by,
                   locked away deep inside,
                       to be viewed only,
              as a outgoing, incoming tide.

                    Revelations of the past,
                quietly evaporates with time,
                         slowly savor them,
                    as a bottle of aged wine.

                          What was once,
                         so easily erased,
                       lost in time forever,
               unable to ever to be traced.

                      Similar to the past,
                 tomorrows are its rivals,
                          never again,
                 to experience a revival.

                 Cherish the memories,
          after tomorrows forever gone,
              difficult to be reclaimed,
      new ones once again begin at dawn.
​

 WHEN WILL IT END

  WHEN WILL IT END..HOW DID IT EVER BEGIN.
  THE CONSTRANT BURNING,,AND THE CRYING WITHIN.
 
  WHEN WILL IT END..HOW DID THEY SLOWLY APPEAR.
  THE FEELING OF HELPLESSNESS..THE NIGHTMARES OF FEAR.
 
  WHEN WILL IT END..SO GOOD AT DISGUISE.
  TOO OFTEN THEY RULE YOU..THOUGH YOU NEVER REALIZE.
 
  WHEN WILL IT END..HOW CAN WE CONVINCE THEM TO LEAVE.
  THE DEPRESSION THAT FESTERS..CAUSES YOU TO GRIEVE.
 
WHEN WILL IT END..THEY LEAVE AND ALWAYS RETURN.
CONTROLLING YOUR MIND..ATTEMPTING TO PUT YOUR ASHES IN A URN.
 
WHEN WILL IT END..THEY’RE CUNNING AND CLEVER.
THOSE DEMON’S INSIDE..SHALL HAUNT YOU FOREVER.

SOMEONE ELSE ​

                                      Why must it be, whenever i attempt to be,
                                                                                   someone else,
                                                                        i always become me.

                                                                Who am i, i'll never know,
                                                                                           lost in time,
                                                                                   a long time ago.

                                                         All alone, with no where to go,
                                                                                     once was wise,
                                                                               now old and slow.

             Confined to the memories, of what should have been,
                                                                               no time for regrets,
                                                                   the lights are getting dim.

                          There was a time, when all was fun and games,
                                                                         but that was long ago,
                                                                           i'll never be the same.

                       Devoted all the years, to keep all safe and strong,
                                                                                      now its my turn,
                                                           and everyone has gone home.

                                                        Tried to live life, the best i could,
                                                                               no one to guide me,
                                                                      just a babe in the woods.

                          No one there to tell me, to do or not to what i did,
                                                                                                  i just did it,
                                                                            and took it on the chin.

                                                                   Someday, maybe i'll be free.
                                                                       and finally have a chance,
                                                                      to return to whoever is me.