Two Poems for the Combination Comp

Jazz Phone-a-thon      (group1) (Combination Comp)

It was the ninth time that night I had answered the telephone  
cold calling selling something for nothing like a ringtone virus  
strangely it wasn’t a sales call,  I could hear the delta blues  
it was one eyed bugle boy Bobbie Joe AKA Robert Johnson  
his riffs so original he clearly had not lost his mojo  
my hero I practiced trying to be like him until I was crazy  
I tried but me playing  like Bobbie was the stuff of dreams  
I just wasn’t good enough, to carry on was just a bit silly  
I pondered giving up as I chomped on a fried chicken wing  
ok, maybe I cant play like Bobbie, but I’ve got more charm


A Fan to the End         (group2) (Combination Comp)

I downed a full bottle of Kentucky bourbon
id toked and smoked the devils crystal
all alone in a double room at a super 8 motel
Id already forgotten my name it now was mud
I opened the razor and pressed it against my jugular
I had already numbed it with lots of ice
there I was in a jump suit covered with sequins
I wanted to be with my hero through witchcraft
oh how the blood flowed strangely it was red
A sad fan, I just wanted to be with David Bowie


this is not part of it

I am now at that stage where I am gonna stop entering the Comps here
I mean who's dick do I need to suck in order to win once and a while dear
If I run competitions can I enter them and announce myself as the winner
and congratulate me with a trophy, a good night out with roses and dinner