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Mark W Johnson Jan 2012
Yesterday, driving down the road, listening to the radio.

The news, a mistake for sure. There is never anything up lifting. Another chance for depression.

But there was the bright winter sun, a blue ocean, and moving traffic.

A voice said, "today a woman hiking on a trail near the "Hollywood" sign with her dogs found a head in a plastic bag.

She was alarmed to find that her dogs were playing with something and she wasn't quite sure what it was. When she got close she found that it was a man's head, dismembered from his body, dogs chasing it about.

A human head? Really? Were the eye's open or shut? Was it bleeding? Did it smell? Was the mouth open? Was it *****, bruised, green, blue? Did she scream, faint, swear, look around in a guilty fashion, cry, throw-up, freeze, yell at her dogs..."No....drop it!" Would she call for help? Brush the dogs teeth? With bleach? Take them to the groomer? Who would she call...911, the news, her friends, her Mom, a Priest?

And then it happened...I laughed, a horrible, hysterical laugh. I could see the dogs, chasing the head, in a plastic bag...rolling down the hill.

I will never be able to go the the market again and hear the cashier ask...
Robin Carretti May 2018
The
camera
on
me_
Modern Crimes to be
Or you forgot
Set the mood
Or set the stage
My home
Two lovers oversee

Distant
lover
home
My
head
met his sunset
The love reset

Don't hock
my best
China
South Carolina
cultured
Pearl
Ever finer
24 karat
Gold one-sided
Movie blinded

Pick
up the ((Ring))
Molly
Ringwald
Artist
Telemarketers
They cannot act
Like Bald eagles
The Bee Gees
Staying alive
Baby boomers

Place me set me
Marathon
runners
Free me
Bride and Dog Groomer
Barking
abilities

"Beverly Hill of Billies"
Five
willow
tree's
With
anyone
else
But for me?

"Whimpering *******"

To dream on
Singer Arrow=Smith

How much
he could
have
loved you yeah?

Mans best movie
and dog bark ee-me
Woof La femme bakery

Movie slavery
Not one ounce
of your undivided
attention

That bad movie

Webbed into a mesh
Monochrome
Flesh to flesh

*** Chromosome

Get me geared up
So willing movie set
His way
no way out
So pay up
"Coffee Creed"
movie cut
my lip

Harvest
pumpkin-head
We
mapped
his
Pitt bulls
long
tongue
In her
******* Jacks
Cheerleaders
Well packed
Honey Comb
Movie on the limb

Pocket comb
She left her heart
Movie set
tombstone
Hands
came out
Bella Italian gravy
That
((Hotshot))
graved me
Honey engraved
Bunches
of scary wits
Bunches of Honey
Oats
No redemption

College drunk dorm
Mega babes 3d glasses
Griswall honeymoon
vacation
light my Fire Morrison
Burned me house

A-D
Dump her
disorder
One  pill
makes
your  
movie
Eyes
stone
killer
Screen
LARGER_

Purple hazed me
underestimated
how to  
raise Movie  family

Do what
the
Romans
do drink
***** off
Sweet
Cherry
wine

Roaming hands
Not a valentine
Poem set
She-devil
Styrophome
I Smartphone
Apple-Computer
Made-man dumber

But no one listens!!
Maybe $$$ pants
I need to fasten

The robot
Alexa
Strike
Lotto lucky
Charge him
On his Visa

Next
door girl
Actress Mona
Homebody
His Bodyguard
Is home
Watching?
Diggity Dogs
barking up
Funeral home
Rock and
Roll hall of fame
Cleveland
playing a
game
dead
dying

Count to five trying
Only five fingers left
What happened in
the movie
set?
The movie can be boring old man snoring, please!! We need to make it fun I needed to perk it up a bit so it
fits inside my poem get your buttered up popcorn
Mongi  Jan 2018
Weeping Tree
Mongi Jan 2018
Weeping Tree

Weeping tree
In a place I haven't known
Only known to our forefathers
You've been told in tales
Giants of the land have journeyed
In quest for your warm embrace
While the minute ants from the dust
Have ignorantly grazed
Right under your mysteries
You've been a mystery to the seeker
But a treasure to the holder

Weeping tree
What haven't you been?
You've cast a shade under for the goats to rest
You've sprouted branches for the birds to roost
The nests that host future generations
Are founded and knitted upon you
You've been shelter to the needy
You've shouldered Mother Nature's mistakes
A bearer of comfort and affection
A groomer of the future
A harbour of hope

Weeping tree
But you've showed to me your other shade
You enticed me with your collectedness
Wooed me with your sentimental stance
And lured me with your sweet reverberations
We closed the distance between us
I found my share of the forever told mystery
Your embrace warm over me
But you got a little more harsh on me
Like the broad wings of an angel
Your branches covered me
You brought me close to your stem, roughly  
Your embrace turned into an engulf
Your pats into slaps
You pressed, you smothered
You let me die inside of you
While I died inside of me
I died
I hope you weep
Weeping tree

Mongi C. Nkabindze
Grey love
Don Bouchard Feb 2019
The groomed dog lies
Clean upon my sofa,
Resting,
His reward.

Resisted he
The urge to flee
Or bite the handler
While the groomer
Plied over the sopping ****,
Clipped the carpet-ripping nails,
Coiffed and primped him
Head to tail.

Waking,
He nuzzles me
With a brown-eyed stare,
Sidling close to my old brown chair.

This canine friend,
Just a dog in mien,
Communicates his needs,
Comforts me in loneliness,
Amuses me with dog-face grin,
Reads and responds
To the state that I'm in.
Dogs, if not human, are in many ways better than humans.
Tint  Sep 2018
Ivory Tower
Tint Sep 2018
Me, the oathbreaker

I looked at the stars and named them, light, bright, spark, giggle
I throw a rock in the river and waited for the monster to come
I will call them carter, jake, scar, groomer
I touched the trees with magic and called it "iron twig", I laughed
With conviction I ran after the bug and called it by the name "bree"

Soon, my feet took me to a place, well lit with thunder blades
I called it "beauty", I stayed to the place and found peace
I changed the name to "home".. a beautiful home
The wizards from the nearby village gave me food, they were dressed in white and they brought with them tools

They never let me borrow the tools
And they stare at me with such scrutinizing eyes
They sometimes tries to drag me from my beautiful home
but I stayed, I always stay

One day I woke up and I am in a one-door-room
the wizards are injecting something to my body, I cannot move
what is happening? what is happening.
my home is gone and I'm detained
They kept looking like I was crazy and they injected me again

I fell asleep and dreamed of a nightmare
It was as if I have gone deranged
they put me inside a bulding that said
"Home for the Mentally Insane"

Never did I woke up again
What is normal anyways?
The Figurative Nail Hit On The Hair Strand Size Head!

Though no physician,
this aging baby boomer
absolutely, intuitively, and
unequivocally sensed hair loss (mine),
at first a speculative rumor
not simply in my (ahem) head,
no matter a minimalist groomer

nevertheless, thinning follicles,
upon dawning realization, sans medical
sought relief thru good humor,
though within this balding cerebral noggin
became repulsive as if my scalp
pulled pate rendered as a tumor.

Thus an unexpectedly present surprise
when in private consultation in the guise
as out patient client (early afternoon
December 19th, 2018),
where I did fraternize
and kibitz with the medical assistant

(old enough to be my...sister),
aye did exercise
mild mannered mien mean, aye do patronize
before doctor Rudolf (dearly
reigned) Roth, a practicing
Dermatologist told me no lies

his instant karma knowledge - mainly his
thirty seven years expertise
sought to excise
a prominent non cancerous mole approximately
centered middle of back
a small patch of skin,

he needed to anesthetize
nonetheless, a reassuring persona,
yours truly did lionize
(not merely, cuz
he received a five star rating,
specialist under auspices

of Penn, Medicine)
in Radnor Pennsylvania),
his modest calm did neutralize
any uneasiness, as did his pronounced
humility earn kudos to idolize
such rarely present gentility, and

unwitting capacity did harmonize,
and maximize significance to me,
asper my thinning limp
hair logically rationalize
identified underactive thyroid gland

(hypothyroidism) tubby,
which didst legitimize
no hair brained rooted concern,
hence...less reason to catastrophize',
which for no reason I
wanted to mildly emphasize,
hence choice to apostrophize...
Mateuš Conrad  Aug 2018
sorry
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
sorry... it's called a migrant crisis?
in Europe?
sure as **** they're not calling
it a refugee crisis...
and sure as they're not calling
it economic migrant situation....
****-shortage...
*****-overload...
please... call it by its proper name...
i don't mind...
  ****... never came an English
woman near me...
but a Pakistani child groomer has...
what's your point?
   but i'm the bwad bwad man...
   i'm the ******* pariah!
       which amounts to justified
gesticulation akain
to Pontius Pilate...
your, whittle girlie pants?
she ain't mine, and she certainly ain't
yours (by the looks of it) -
knock on my door,
some other day...
             i'm not a *******
pedagogue...
       i'm washing my hands
clean of the whole affair...
       whittle princess is on her
own...
          it's not a migrant crisis,
it's a lithium-battery shortage
for all the ******...
****... i'd love to keep a woman...
but
   i don't have the heart t exercise
a dog leash...
     sorry...
            i took to petting cats
and exploring avenues in "petting"
foxes...
less leashes... and more unwritten
pacts of loyalty...
        not fun, when i was younger
i loved owning dogs...
but the leash, and the muzzle?
       esp. with owning dobberman's
or Alsatians pseudo-wolves?
      women...
  ask Tom Waits...
                not my kind of "thing"...
       i drink a lot, i speak very little,
sometimes i write...
      i'm not some sort of cardinal
landrynka (hard candy)...
                not being mean...
but masculine ontology,
"oddly enough":
doesn't fit into a metaphysics of
femininity...
         never works...
never did...
          plus...
  having enough time wasted chasing
A's and B's at A-level,
1st, 2nds, 3rds and with Hon
graduate level markers...
   erasure...
          came for the lexicon...
not the pound of dollar
squish... squash... push-ups...
         i seem to have no coordination
when it comes to money...
all i seem to be good as is...
see red? Pampillonia...
      no... like i once talked to
Helen, in a psychiatric waiting room...
she invited me to talk
about trophy wives...
              evidently she was
a neglected woman,
evidently she would take to me
and say: i like you...
                but the concept of a woman
as attention *******?
i prefer an hour with an actual
*******...
    gives me a better picture...
one hour?
  i'm done...
     and she still retains her decency
of engaging in lubrication...
     come on, give a girl a break,
she's been at it with 4 others
prior to me, the 5th...
   i dig it...
            but all that dog walking
business?
    dogs left by owners having
professional careers,
alone, at home,
turning out depressed?
  and notably, if bought from
pedigree breeders, also castrated?
**** me...
    at least the Sheiks held castrato
men as hostages,
to alleviate the lack of
          ******...
   basically walking ******...
fair enough...
                         i'd jump on board
right away... because?
started jerking off aged 8...
having found a ***** mag on
a church construction site,
where we used to play,
in the labyrinth of the catacombs...
guess what?!
   aged 8?! no ***** production...
but the muscular feeling
of ******* is there....
   so?
   cut my ***** off and sling-shoot
me into an Arabian harem...
buzz-****-wit-light-year...
walking, talking, mandible jaw
*****...
   ever wonder what
  a talking and oral *** fission
of an otherwise absentee "lover"
does to a woman?
           ****...
                        whatever...
cut my ***** off..
  i already know what it feels
like to ******* without
having *****....
               the sensation of pleasure
doesn't even come from
the ***** produced...
big flaw in the argument...
            it's not in the actual
product...
   come to think...
all the women in my life
have been failures of *******...
one i could swear was attempting
to circumcise me...
                  too... ******* rough...
it's tender meat we're talking about...
unless you've never
fried a tender **** beef piece
of meat: the ******* doing?
perhaps the counter line of argument
comes from M.G.M. men,
notably American...
what?!
         oh... right... these men have
no ******* sensitivity...
   a saber, but no sheath...
  i feel sorry for both the men,
and the women... who encounter
unsheathed "sabers"...
     sorry...
       but like any english person
saying that word on a public transport
commute:
               i'm not really sorry.
Eventually vices will witness me crow king
cough'n affliction caw hearse courtesy
smok'n since me yay high,
hence appellation (mountain) wheezer
natural set of adult teeth (rotten to the core)  
easily plucked out courtesy tweezer,
this har nonestablishmentarian,
never prevaricator nor crowd pleaser,

whose barreled chest attests quantity
maximum grog, which equals capacity of keezer,
or analogous to quaffing
amount stout beer downed by yours truly
(rough estimation by dickens)
equivalent to hinted wealth of Ebenezer
Scrooge, who could hypothetically
purchase abundant amount of ale.

Above fabrication nonsense yay
figurative hook to grab attention my way
ain't one applicable factual word written,
cuz I take poetic license
with no intended off fence touché
harmless figurative foil
as usual trademark innocent word play
geezer who sports brown golden locks
employs good humor as keyway
to unlock mine mindscape entranceway.

After posting poem comb what may,
drink'n like vichyssoise floundering fiend,
I reluctantly brush aside
male pattern baldness without dismay,
cuz patrilineal genetic trait
shows no happy shiny pate
rather paternal ancestry
somewhat thick with strands
turning sixty plus shades of gray.

The following recounts true account
one hundred purse cent
actual bonafide certifiable event
attested to courtesy one germane gent
badinage represents laughable intent
as he deeply inhales cigarette brand Kent.

Though no physician,
this aging baby boomer
former long haired pencil necked geek
absolutely, intuitively, erroneously, and
unequivocally sensed hair loss (mine),
at first a speculative rumor
not simply rooted in my (ahem) head,
no matter a minimalist groomer

nevertheless, thinning follicles,
upon dawning realization, sans medical
sought relief thru good humor,
though within this balding cerebral noggin
became repulsive as if my scalp
pulled pate rendered as a tumor.

Thus an unexpectedly present surprise
when in private consultation in the guise
as out patient client (early afternoon
December 19th, 2018),
where I did fraternize
and kibitz with the medical assistant

(old enough to be my...sister),
aye did exercise
mild mannered mien mean, aye do patronize
before doctor Rudolf (dearly
reigned) Roth, a practicing
Dermatologist told me no lies

his instant karma knowledge - mainly his
thirty seven years expertise
sought to excise
a prominent non cancerous mole approximately
centered middle of back
a small patch of skin,

he needed to anesthetize
nonetheless, a reassuring persona,
yours truly did lionize
(not merely, cuz
he received a five star rating,
specialist under auspices

of Penn, Medicine)
in Radnor Pennsylvania),
his modest calm did neutralize
any uneasiness, as did his pronounced
humility earn kudos to idolize
such rarely present gentility, and

unwitting capacity did harmonize,
and maximize significance to me,
asper my thinning limp
hair logically rationalize
identified underactive thyroid gland

(hypothyroidism) tubby,
which didst legitimize
no hair brained rooted concern,
hence...less reason to catastrophize',
which for no reason I
wanted to mildly emphasize,
hence choice to apostrophize...
Dennis Willis  Aug 2021
And Round
Dennis Willis Aug 2021
Am I a poet
or a publisher
of inner demons
a fire groomer
a flood channeler
a flag raiser
for inner collapse
a grinner
for inner suffusement
a reteller of never said
a printer of listening
a this of that
or just a sound
hoping to go round
thomezzz  Jul 2020
(human) Form
thomezzz Jul 2020
Human life is so flawless, yet so formless
Bending it’s way to fit into reality
It can mold itself into
A blonde bombshell model type
Or a chunky kid who loves to play Fortnite
Your dog groomer down the street
Or the mild-mannered barista you weren’t very kind to

It can bubble and warp into
The tallest man in the world
Or a newborn baby in a crib
Your crotchety sweatered grandpa
Or billions of people on the pursuit of happiness

I wonder if the ability to morph
Is humanity’s greatest triumph;
The beautiful power
To continuously change our shape.

— The End —