Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

I pop out of the forest on to the trailhead

There is a Christian youth group in the parking area handing out food and drinks

They look like sheep who have been sent out to

feed the vagrants on the trail

A cute girl the size of a poodle asks me if I have Jesus in my life

I tell her I've got a beer can in my backpack that I'm quite content with

As I try to eat the food and drink that I am graciously given this little mountain girl bitches me out, you don't get nothin for free in life

She calls me an uncouth barbarian and in need of Christianity, and I smell bad

Well I guess you could be a good Christian woman and give a sponge bath

For five days I talk to no one, and within five seconds of so called civilization I'm verbally sparring with this Christian mountain girl

She confides in me she is looking for a man for marriage

I eat my food, say my thank yous, and get out of her clutches

North Carolina women play their religion kinda hard

I walk into the civilization of trees quite happily

And then as I'm walking the trail I start thinking she is going to be on the other side of this trail in five days

Oh my god she is

Two months later I get a phone call, she hasn't forgotten me.

Poem from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

  

Poetry from the book [The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

With a temperature of 105 I lay in the snowbank burning with a fever

My body temperature is so high that I burn a ring in the snow

A fever of delirium that brings me crawling outside

I've been in bed coughing for three days trying to break this fever

I call two friends who I work with at a construction site

They arrive and get me in the car and we roll

Then we stop in front of a house

These two knuckle heads rob the home owner of  his tv set and game console at gun point

I am watching this with my head against the window sinking further into my fever

Shots are fired by the black guy who owns the home

We speed off but I've been hit with a bullet to the stomach

They lay me in the parking lot of the hospital and peel out leaving a heavy odor in the air

They ask me how I would like to pay for this

I give them my insurance card

They give me that laughing gas and I float above the operation room like a Chagall

They don't have a room for me, so they roll me out into the hall

The next few days they roll me everywhere except for a room

I finally end up near the morgue, which gave me little faith

Doctors can only do so much, it's up to the body to heal itself

The light buzzes on and off down here and the walls are moist

These creepy shadow people walk around me and several dive into my face

A bright light appears and a little girl vanquishes the shadow people

She holds my hand and tells me I'm going to make it

Her hand chills me and I start to chatter

She shows me how she was murdered

She shows me a license plate, a home, the face of the perp, the killing ground, and the faces of the other kids he has killed and wiped from the earth

I agree to help her kill this asshole

She whispers in my ear further information

I get better and walk out of this hospital that has catholic emblems everywhere

I kick the creeps door in, and hit him with a crowbar

I take him to the killing ground and sit him in a plastic chair I scavenged from the dump

I stuff peanuts up his nose ,and scoop a whole jar of Peter Pan peanut butter into his mouth

He suffers and suffocates just like the children he murdered.

Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

  
 

Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

The art museums aren't there for the living artist

They are there to pick up the dead carcass and parade it around the room.

Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

Poetry from the book {Bunny Hop} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

    The conservative Christian may pray to God

        But what he really worships is money.

Poetry from the book {Bunny Hop} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

Poetry from the book [Bunny Hop} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

                     Technology may change
                                      But
  The human race shows no intellectual progress
                        People stay the same
 A cave man with a computer and an assault rifle
                            (The Rat Race)

Poetry from the book {Bunny Hop} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

Untitled Abstract by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

                          Untitled Abstract
              By Artist Troy Richard Thomas

Island No. 8 Mississippi River by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

                Island No.8 Mississippi River
This is an island I stayed on for the day, just South of the Ohio River. I walked around in my bare feet and my boonie hat like Robinson Crusoe.

                         By Artist Troy Richard Thomas