Midnight Precedes- OldePunk/RamJet Poetry & Christine Ray/Brave and Reckless

Midnight precedes The dawning of you Shadows and peaches Lavender and spices Rare, honeyed tongue Sings rapture My soliloquy of you Cool moonlight Carves your shadow Against stark walls But you are smooth whiskey Intoxicating to my parched soul Cedar and pine Warm earth against my skin From earth it begins Aquiline movements Fostered by … Continue reading Midnight Precedes- OldePunk/RamJet Poetry & Christine Ray/Brave and Reckless

Some sunshine- Olde Punk

Olde Punk punches me in the gut and breaks my heart. Again.

RamJet Poetry

some sunshine

dumb, drunk and unhappy

shuffling feet in a barnstorm

clapping nostalgia on the back

the knives’ out just for show

if this wasn’t love, I’d label it scorn

I am a collection of lines

in old and forgotten songs

dusty hymns sung to the low

ultraviolet dope down dawg

collared flea-bitten mongrel

of a steed bent on bad knees

weak, in need of a peek

at anything that can bring

some sunshine

Fostered gasoline children

foment rebellion from our nether

regions apart by river and wall

side by side on the map

to go where you need to go

we all need a guide

but take your time

choosing your ride

always remember:

it is not the destination but the journey

that takes life from you

pantomime the beat of carotid drug

cultures entwining in evening

sojourn, dinner’s on the table

it is getting cold

I smell smoke and realize

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Freakx and Tinfoil-Olde Punk

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Olde Punk’s writing?

RamJet Poetry


With a stark spark I begin to sin. There’s sex in my blood and blood in our sex. I tremble with chills of fever in feverish chill. The skin behind your ear resonates with secrets unkept by the murdered. Tumors pulse in the hate of your love and I relish in its agony. Tin foil peace pipes litter the scene of our sodomy. I love your hateful arrogance and I want to kill the look on your face. It is too precious to share with anyone else. I don’t understand this dance, this midnight trance we seem to repeat over and over. But I don’t believe in anything else so I choose to believe in this witchcraft of lust. You carve your passions into the skin of my back and I shudder in ecstatic pain. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some weirdo fink sex freak. But the things you…

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Differences-Olde Punk/RamJet Poetry

Olde Punk giving me chills

RamJet Poetry


It could have been different

I remember snow falling

and a fleet of foxes

leaving soft trail in the new drifts

hot chocolate flavored whiskey

herb and venison stew simmering slow

Desperate Journalist playing in the den

parliaments and democracies worrying

about volcanoes and nuclear storms

a twinkle in the eye

bite down on the Bitcoin billionaire

I caressed the words you were forming

sanctity in the silence before

knickers and freshly laundered sheets

on the morning a crispness, cruel

a cramp in the muscles, except

in your mind

fever came quickly with the fallout days

underscored by semantics of reason

bright were the goodbyes in a Viking pyre sort-of-way

conspiracies and treason

flags of our palace tattered

dreaming a distant tomorrow

I felt I was falling backward

I of the small sorrows

you were crying but I couldn’t stop it

I was trying but you couldn’t stop it


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Spark-Olde Punk

The brilliant Olde Punk walks straight through the black gates

RamJet Poetry


Involved evolution

inflated diatribe of

incessant tunnel vision

enticing indecision

edible cataclysms

enchant the martyrs

with your cynicism

I may be a sinner

but I walk straight

Under the black gates

the smiling criticism

and crimson banners

heads on stakes

ten thousand times

your sword falls on

our necks

before the break

invested insubordination

trivial instigation

social disintegration

tasting degradation

entropic devolution

igniting a revolution

we are coming

we are running

we are marching

we are coming…

for you.

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Arithmetic- Olde Punk/RamJet Poetry

Olde Punk shakes the foundation at RamJet Poetry

RamJet Poetry


Pop goes your weasel

in mellifluous cloud

of unknown gasses

carotid arteries of the woe-begones

I can no longer think

with a hole in my head

Incontinent, as time

shits the slow minutes

that weep through the barrier

of ill intentions and seep out

like plasma onto the subsurface

of our minutiae

retrovirus of pandemic

spreading fingers inside a body

to enrapture and assimilate

for the survival of the whos and whats

and the gun-metal wants of

the wardog rabid malcontent

I have witnessed biting

his fleas in my fenced back yard

electric eyes don’t blink and never

shed tears on what they witness

staring fixed at all or none

conversion 2.0 is fear

massive convictions are fraught

in netting, pulled from the C’s

of negligence and commonality

through a fit to give what you get

voting downtown hard times

convolute the meanings

and instead homesteaders

and ranchers continue to…

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