Google is not responding

" Fake book"

Is thier own

Judge jury and executioner

An Ap wire 

With their own news

And claim no bias

It's not a real book

It's only fake

"Fake book"

Read between the lines

It's electronic

Is it entitled into the National

Library of Congress

Where is Congress?

I'm just a dumb roofer

Asking for a friend

Bob jenkens

Do you feel me now

 What's right

What's wrong

What's changed or not the same

Why do I feel

I need to kill

Hang myself on a cross 

at the Capitol

The beginning of the end for me

But then you'll see

What's write

What's wrong

What's changed or not the same

Bob jenkens

Will write for food

Sorry I'm late

The Day of The Lord

 We're all each other

You stick up for me, I'll stick up for you

We're all each other

Isn't anything new 

You stick up for me, I'll stick up for you

They won't even see it coming

This is a stick up nobody move

Don't budge

Stop the division

You stick up for me and I'll stick up

For you.

Bob jenkens

Welcome to the United States

 It was 1999 I was working for L.H Smith construction out of Tecumseh Michigan.

 On my way to work I pulled safely to the side of the road and wrote this poem on a recyclable McDonald's bag. Originally titled "the politicians" every thing I write is subject to change. 

 When I got to the job Larry asked me why I was late. He acted like he was gonna hit me with his hammer when I told him "I stopped to write a poem". 

               Welcome to the United States

As the politicians converse

Our people disperse

It's all just madness

In giving despair

We all prepare

Though we act unaware

We just give them a stare

They'll do what they do

And take what they want

We look to our lives

For a moment life is good

Then here's life with all reality

And life is bad

But I can take the bad

When it weighs out with the good

Only bad is so often and heavy

That's not good

In given despair we all prepare

And want what they take

"Welcome to the United States".

Bob Jenkens

.                 Will-Write-Food-Bob-Jenkens-ebook/dp/B00H5XTPGA/

                     

my-disclaimer

No pickles please

You wouldn't call seven eleven in an emergency

711 couldn't assist you

He's crazy standing there yelling  "Call seven eleven"

What for? A fountain drink?

They don't deliver

You mean 911?911-whats-your-emergency?html?m=1

What's your emergency?

You haven't eaten? I've never ate a poor person

That's a 211 issue

But look at that #1

A big Buford 

double and triple meat

And someone would like just the bun

with no pickles please

We're all different 

Why can't we accept that?

2015/10/humanity.html?m=1

pickle-cream-pie a cancer cure? zoe-blyss.html?m=1

Bob Jenkens

2020 The year Christmas died

 Last year at Christmas

Dad was still alive

I guess that was the

Year before last

But who's keeping track

He never played Santa

But my mom

Played Mrs clause for certain

Wait....

Was it the year before last or

The year before that?/i-wish-i-could-handle-death-as-well-as Gavin 

Christmas just isn't the same

Without dad

But wait a minute....

Gavin.... I'm your dad

I love you

 I wish I knew

What I could do

To make this Christmas memorable

For you....

2020 the year

Christmas changed

From a string of pop corn

Around the tree

To a string of fruit loops

Wearing masks

Fighting for savings 

On black Friday

Practicing social distancing

and sharing the debit machine

I don't know....

 everyday is black Friday

on Amazon.

I hope the mail gets here

Bob Jenkens

https://read.amazon.com/litb/B00H5XTPGA?f=1&l=en_US&r=87dbcbd2&ref_=litb_m

This is Gavins pet duck

He got the kid off the school bus

Just like he was a dog

A New York times best seller

 I woke up

Splattered all over the front page

Of the Washington post today.

 The paparazzi posting pictures

Of the shoes I wore

The night before

I woke up

The story had changed

The front page is the last page

The headlines are blank

The date is right

But the comics are no joke

My blood is dripping

From the crease in the page

 splattered all over your ankles

I washed out between the pages

Of somebody's post today...

Bob Jenkens

if it bleeds it leads (kindle sample)

Autopsy of a poet blogspot.com/2018/07/autopsy-of-poet.html?m=1

Boo! Scared yet? "Its about to get real up in this mother fucker"!

Have you ever been scared for your life?
I don't mean with a terminal illness.
You keep up your fight
Stay vigilant
this is the fight of your life

 And I don't mean startled

While white knuckle driving
on a Michigan icy winter road
That only lasts a fraction of a second

I mean sitting in a stall
Pants down around your ankles
Listening to whispers on the other side

why are they whispering?
Listening closely
Did I remember to wipe?

  Beyond the whispers is the rest of the prisoners

watching the news anticipating the call "chow"!
Russel's voice chanting sticks out 

"it's about to get real up in this mother fucker"
News doesn't help rolling a story of a black inmate across the street killed by white corrections officers
A helicopter flying overhead capturing video of the prison yard and buildings engulfed with flames 

Sirens from police, fire and medical emergency units prison lock down whistle blowing 

And still Russel pounding his fist on his chest

"it's about to get real up in this mother fucker".

What did I get myself into?

 I came out of the stall at arms
No one seems to notice me

being freaked out

Except Earl Pullin my bunkie
He said," what's up white boy"?

laughing at Russel
Don't let Russell freak you out
They get away with this all the time
Killing a man in jail
Striping him from his rights
 killing him.
And getting away with it.
Happens all the time
Just write about it

It's about to get real
Up in this mother fucker
It happens all the time



Bob Jenkens.



Epstein-couldnt-have-killed-his-self.html?m=1

What-colors-Humanity-Bob-Jenkens-ebook/dp/B00SVZ950W/ref=mp_s_a_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=what+colors+humanity+bob+jenkens&qid=1610588663&sr=8-2

"Sorry I'm late"

At the beginning of the covid Epidemic I joined an online writing group to help pass the time. The site administrator would throw a title out and participants had until 5 p.m. to write a short story, Paragraph or poem using the words. Thus, my inspiration for "sorry I'm late". 

Sorry I'm late

It wasn't that long ago
I don't know why
I didn't start it right away
Are homes were lit by
Oil lamps
I've been working on it
In my head for years
But on paper
It just doesn't look the same
 I go to the ice box
To get something to eat
Why's it up to me?
To fix everything
The world's it's own place
Not so discrete
But people continue
To look the other way
Including myself
Let someone else
Be on the front page
The Lord works
In mysterious ways
I'm here
"Sorry I'm late"

Bob Jenkens

  My dad didn't go to culinary school. He used to make a mean hot dog omelet which I also felt compelled to write about. I submitted it to the 2020 pandemic lock down cookbook. I'm grateful my submission was accepted. They even gave me two pages for the recipe, a picture and the poem I wrote.   larry-clarks-famous-hot-dog-omelet.html   

https://www.amazon.com/author/bobjenkens

Early February maybe May

I'm gonna start over
Like I was just born This morning
A brand new day
The sun is shining
Birds are singing
A 65 degree spring day
A perfect day to learn to walk again
Freed from this cocoon
I've been rapped up in
I'm gonna start over
When blessings descend
And flourish in warm sun rays
Take a deep breath
Brush off my shoulders
Reach for the sky
And rise to my feet
Look straight ahead
It's a brand new day




Bob Jenkens



  I wrote this in 2005 I was sitting in my truck at St Mary's at the lakes. I was going through R.I.C.A with the Catholic church.
Several times I've read the piece and wondered what about March and April?
May 1st is going to be starting over at a lot of things.

Exclude ROE vs WADE Give the children thier own rules! "You nailed that shit".....

You nailed it
Write on the head
Must have been phlegm
An allergy
A piece of pollen
Or something I said

Floating in the air
In your eyes
Under your breath
can't get it out
Tear drops lubricate.
The dreams
From reality
Scream it out loud

Dry your eyes

This shits real

Put your foot down

Even if it kills

Children should be exempt.

from politics and racism

Save the children

from poor rulings

not in a court room

but live on YouTube

via zoom

kill the executive order

and execute and investigate

a set of new rules

constitutionally amended.

to protect the lives of the born

and un-born children 

Bob Jenkens
If-it bleeds it-leads-Bob-Jenkens-ebook/dp/B09XM23KDQ?ref_=ast_author_mpb 

Ransom

I'm being held hostage
Against my own fear
Of last hopes
Please leave
The girl of my dreams
In a small piece of clothing
On top of a bear skin rug
In front of a crackling fire
In a cabin somewhere
Far from civilization




P.s not a real bear skin rug
That's cruel.

Bob Jenkens

I've always told myself if the end of the world seemed eminent. I would just go hide out with a woman and die with a smile on my face. Back to work tomorrow.