profile image

Big Sal

Updated: 23 hours ago

Contact via WOL



Bring your best so I can top it. Poet of 10 years, Lyrical Monster, King of Rhymes, Slayer of Spies, and Eater of B*tches in Black. Check the Diction. Flasks, blankets, clothing, and other merchandise available for sale! Always supporting poetry and the arts one rhyme at a time. "Playing in the Dark After Rain", available at Amazon, Big Sal's 200-page debut anthology, socio-political commentary, scientific support, and the love of all things rhyme has got to have a place. Get yours today, common sense and logical analysis shall follow. All poems part of this blog have previously been published and can be found in Big Sal's debut anthology, or other works soon to be released. Allais may be known across the spectrum as a cultivator of holorhyme, but Big Sal will be known as the Master Vintner that made it 200-proof. Read more below if you truly prefer your poetry to rhyme. Influences include but are not limited to: Sadistik, Grieves, Brother Ali, Slug, Pablo Neruda, classic/cult filmography, and most things in life that rhyme more than 3 words within them, you simply have to find what they are. Remember, rhyme was originally thought to have been invented to retain information, lyrics, etc. Why you rhyme bro??? "Just sitting here listening to Atmosphere and Rhymesayers, trying to make ends meet." "If at first you don't succeed, then fuck it, sit down and write a poem about it." "Intellectualism is not measured by the words that you spit or the shit that you say, but by the feathers on the perch to wit with the six-pack today." "I love it when pretentious poets pretend that wakefulness as a human being signifies their true descent into madness." "Laughing my ass off watching Mac Lethal impersonate Kanye." "I'd rather skewer them in the heart than shoot them in the skull." "If I had as many followers as Trump, I'd be famous AND stupid." "I could tell you to kill a cat or to apply some poison, and would know you wouldn't do either until I opened the box to check." - BIG SAL QUOTES


MY SKELETON KEY Oh thank God you’re here Bertha with your coal hair it looks nice hon, Please don’t leave me alone; I get so scared when the night comes, Honey I missed you, but forgive the filth so clogged up in the system, It’s okay here but they forget my pills more often than I get them, But enough about me sweetie, how has your day been? Can you walk to me, or have you just today learned? I’m sorry Bertha the pills make me loopy, I don’t mean any harm to you you know? My hand trembles as I speak, and I can’t read many pharmaceuticals, For some reason I can’t remember if you’re in high school or college now, I haven’t had time to call you either so why not call your parents out? I never deserved a daughter like you, and never will I understand, How could I be so lucky for the memories of weathered silt under the sand, Building castles with you and your mother when the days were sunny or gray, Although I rue the bad karma, I can’t help it, I prayed the funny would stay, Honey tell me, what is your husband’s name, and when can I meet him? No I am not joking my orchid; seriously this is not deadpan as meat bins, Did your labor go smoothly? Can I see your children? Here I have some booties, and I hope that they fit them, I never dreamed this day would come, and now I’m gleaming and I’m proud, I can only hope that you allow me to see them when I’m out, What day you ask? Well hon, to be honest I don’t know, But if I’m in this race to win, then why go slow? Honey, Bertha, my darling are you there sweet? Am I alone now, or can you hear me? Please baby; please don’t leave me plagued and alone, I’ll die from the stress in this god-forsaken home, The door creaks a rickety creak like my bed, my shoulder, and cheers, I want to die now too since the nurse says you’ve been dead for over a year, My sweet, all I can say is that I will purchase land if I see you in Heaven, That entire time talking it was the nurse’s hand I was squeezing like a lemon, I wish to be free of these shackles just as a paladin frees several clans of merit, I love you my sweet Bertha, and now my skeleton key crumbles as I perish. ________________________________ PLAYING IN THE DARK AFTER RAIN- AN ANTHOLOGY BY BIG SAL- NOW OVER 35% OFF AT BLUEBIRDMOUNTAINCONSERVANCY.COM! 2ND ANTHOLOGY SET TO BE PUBLISHED, PRE-ORDERS ARE AVAILABLE WITH A 2018 RELEASE DATE, AND 3RD ANTHOLOGY SET FOR LATE-2018, EARLY 2019 RELEASE!

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Viewed 797 times since 30 Oct 2017

Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.


Profile image

Dominic James

Sat 20th Jan 2018 11:12

HI Big Sal

thanks for your like on Madame Fortuna. This went up last week on Poems and Pictures, a picture library that will take poems to go with images, if you can find the right one...

Profile image

Laura Taylor

Tue 16th Jan 2018 12:19

Hi Big Sal, thanks for your note on i-museum revisited. That's a very interesting interpretation, thank you. For some context, here's the first one:

Come and see the i-museum.
No curtains, no blinds, no nets. Blinding sometimes.
The exhibits change day to day.
Who seeks comfort in the linear?
The building disappears if you enter it in anger.
The floors withdraw, the walls collapse.
You can only visit if your eyes are smiling.

There is no Authority, it’s self-policing.
Less trouble that way. More responsibility.
If you don’t maintain a peaceful equilibrium,
the building disappears around you.
Though sometimes, if you get a rage on inside,
the ceilings ignite.
Depends on the rage.

In the foyer, there’s a framed photo of a small girl
smiling with her mouth.
The photo is black and white.
The dress is pink and hated.

The first room has cartoon-like cakes,
bursting out the tops of their wrappers.
Sumptuous, exciting, begging to be eaten.
You can’t, of course.
If you try, the building disappears around you.

The musical room contains a gnawed wooden recorder.
It smells of pre-pubescent spit, sweaty fingers, and school.
To open the door of the musical room, take a deep breath,
and hold it.
To exit, do this in reverse.
Do not touch the handle.
The door will slam onto your fingers.
You will breathe in.
Entropy will ensue.

In the café there’s a radiogram,
locked within a nicotine-stained glass case.
No money required.
The turntable revolves around levels of memory.
78s will play if opening bars of songs are sung.
If you sing too loudly, the shellac cracks
and the glass case fills with smoke.

The reading room contains 5 books,
which have been read approximately 50 times each.
The spines are broken.
If you pick them up, pages fall out,
and the building disappears around you.
Leave the books alone. Get your own.

There’s a flat-chested Sindy doll in that room over there,
with shorn hair and home-made clothes.
A stolen Action Man keeps Sindy company,
and they mostly fight or fuck.

In the cellar, there’s a well of tears,
soon to boil and dry.
And all the implements you’d ever need
to raise weals on a small girl.
There are curtains down there that are permanently closed,
so people can’t see in.

That was fun, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Profile image

Ankita Srivastava

Tue 2nd Jan 2018 07:50

thanks Big Sal for encouraging words for poetry "Tax-I don't have problem".

Eagerly waiting for your next poetry 😃

Profile image

Ankita Srivastava

Fri 15th Dec 2017 19:32

Thanks for your encouraging word over my poetry " The Doll's smile"

Profile image

Laura Taylor

Mon 11th Dec 2017 09:47

Hey Big Sal - thanks for your note on my Trump haiku. And just as you think he can't get any worse - he does.

Profile image

Trevor Wainwright

Tue 5th Dec 2017 09:30

Thanks for your latest comments they are much appreciated

Profile image

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 4th Dec 2017 11:34

Thanks for your response to 'War Kids'. I don't usually put out such rough work, but the concept has been niggling at me for years. In so many 'news reports' on TV, I can see myself and my friends; and we were never in the extreme danger that the TV children deal with daily.

Profile image

Nigel Astell

Wed 15th Nov 2017 13:30

Thanks for your like on my Samuel Oldknow pub poem Big Sal

Emer Ni Chorra

Sun 5th Nov 2017 14:58

Hi Big Sal, thank you for stopping by and leaving such encouraging words on my profile. 👍

Profile image

Trevor Wainwright

Sat 4th Nov 2017 18:31

Thanks Big Sal. I will keep writing

View all comments

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message