…
by Loia🏳
I sprayed a man… without a face—
I sprayed him… with my can of mace—
Unfortunately… seems it went to waste—
Fortunately— I left him… with a real bad taste…
—
© Bryan H. 2025 — All Rights Reserved
Bad Taste
NOT SHORT BUT NOT TOO LONG…THEY SAY ITS A POEM…
“Tho Still—not Too Late—…”
by Loia
Tryin’ to get in
where I fit in…
Found I no place
to sit in.
Should’ve been here—
not to begin with.
Tho a musical chair…?
Shiny with flair…?
O yes, for me!
O wait—no…
Specially fits all y’all
who dare…
Let the spin begin…
Clinched fist
to y’all, men…
Southern by grace—
So little thy faith…
Then times—it’s just taste…
Beat death
from this place…
O now—
no—not one.
Nor friend, nor face…
Eyed one man
when start of race…
Tho none see now…
O perhaps—
Should’ve loved last place…
O perhaps—
should’ve chose stealth—
thine pace…
O perhaps should’ve just loved—…
Tho still—not too late—…
© Bryan H. 2025 — All Rights Reserved
A SHORT FAITH POEM
“In Heart of It…”
(by Loia)
In the heart of it,
O dark night of it–
Distantly, partially lit,
Possibly the end of it?’
Dreamth of yellow,
Places of gray,
Flowing in the depths of it.
Jesus saves me–
In and out from the pit of it.
O my, O my…
Looks like the end of it…,’…,’…t
© Bryan H. 2025 — All Rights Reserved
`’.,°~
Heart of Loia `'.,°~ 