I wait as patient as a man of age can be
I do not know just what I expect to see
I sleep the sleep of a painful aging soul
knowing it is far too late to be whole.
The world I know is trembling badly
I hold on tightly with my heart beating madly.
I would dance to one more lonely song
but being old all my steps would be wrong.
Maybe I will be luckier the next time
or maybe be a beggar clutching his last dime.
Tomorrow just remains unknown and blank
but the smell of impending death is rank.
Will I be the lucky one and skate on thin ice
or will I be the one that pays for all his vice
That is what tomorrow holds for me
so I will simply have to wait and see.
Through synergy we Work
Through Bass drops we Bang
From to high to the low, we Connect the pieces
From sorry to relief we sail Aboard
We reign, And let it be known
We play, we're accustomed to shows
we RANK, by the judgement of our Handiwork and the tunes in our dreams
and the sweat of our brow
We hear what we love, manifest our thoughts and enjoy the sound
So ready the Drop, load your cannons, ready your pen for rating
The world is ready
Just as sure as she is steady
For the man who is tired of waiting
Relish me in your infidelities
Luxury me in your slovenly ways
Embroider me with voidery, it's clear
Still water, stale ail, hand molded fail;
Pail into a bucket your pale tales
Unveiled, your stories already told
You're too old to be sophisticated
G is indicative of rank in rated
Lesbihonest, porn videos aren't rated G,
Substantiated is where your aim should be
When you let your load explode
You're vindictive, if you must show it, nobody noticed
No more can your behaivor show it
Children that seek misguided attention
Wind up in detention
Number your days in long hand division
Time comes, brings with it, intervention
Don't mention it,
It's my post pre pretty substancial
Prudent by circumstance,
Cited by crudential, it's official,
Pretension is a must mention
Although not without much apprehension,
I pay you this attention..
You're bought, because you sold out;
The lesson taught, is available now
Redemption; Limited Edition
HE always gets the higher rank,
Not just HIM but any
Of the fall soldiers.
What do they fulfill,
That you are missing,
Are you troubled behind closed doors?
You have a youth of your very own,
Standing right here,
Tacitly craving just a loving expression.
You wound me when you advise tactfully,
that I should vacate,
So you and your vernal pibe,
Can take in abortive entertainment.
Little did I know,
Lounging in the same environs,
Was a taboo in the posh palace.
I would reflect,
Reimagine & rationalize.
If you neglect to
You may find a solitary soul.
My heart hopes for the highest,
But days past tell me otherwise.
Humans argue, fuss and struggle,
But those who,
Value and treat unconditional loves,
Warmheartedly get the real pleasure.
If I ride off from this declining,
Tormenting cliff, like a lost knight,
When things get distressing,
Maybe then you will understand.
Love & Art,
I see the mechanical men that peddle the illusion of wheels which drive down to the crankshaft,staffed by robbers and thieves that steal into the day putting a tax on the way you would speak,
and I peek in through the keyhole of Whitehall, dragging the chain and the ball that is tied to my leg,and sooner or later I will beg for some leeway from the mandarins but they'll say,
'Go away little man,we are the mechanical men in the doing of things and we'll bring blood and thunder,put you down 'til you go under,don't bother us now',
I have bowed to their power and pissed on their shoes,I choose not to be used by the ones who abuse the privilege of rank and position.
Please tell me that this is not true,
that the election of robots to Westminster is actually down to me and to people like you, and we get what we vote for,the
dirty dealing,wheeling out manifestos,posing for papers,oil cans for arseholes and bolts for their braces,automatic voices,you've got so many more choices than this shower of shit,
do your bit,a bit of research,search online, easy most of the time,vote for them and you'll vote for anyone,vote for anyone but,
the mechanical men have replicated in them and all is lost,we are screwed,might as well use the suicide pill.
sitting quietly on a chair
well, maybe it's time to eat soon
there's a nice chocolate bar in the fridge
no actually I would rather eat smoked salmon
too bad there are no bagels
you should go buy some bagels
oh and cream cheese
then you'll be set
oh I have to see a doctor tomorrow
i hate doctors
i hate to have to go to a hospital
(the breathing accelerates...)
by the way in an hour or so
but not less than an hour
you have to meditate for an hour
you have to be serious determined
but after that hour
and buy something
for your colleagues
that will coax a smile from them
you'll feel better
you've lost weight you look better...
ah... the one that got away ten years ago
you gave her a rough draft of your essay to read
she said the polished version was MUCH BETTER
neither of us was ready for a commitment
i'm much stabler now i'm ready
ready for a family i could love her now
as she deserved to be loved then
i wasn't ready then i was a mess then...
you know you'll have to get a new passport soon...
your passport expires in five months
don't procrastinate don't be lazy
take care of business in a couple of days
two hundred dollars from Cindy
it's been a long time
think about her feelings
you're pretty selfish
AND BREATHE.... BREATHE
actually don't be concerned about Cindy now
(three cat-images emerge...)
i miss my cats
my aunt has four cats i should call her
i haven't seen her in 3 years
yes you should call her
don't you think you're a little self-absorbed?
i remember my aunt in the moonlight
oh moonlight moonlight moonlight
the way she touched her raven hair
a sagacious woman she was
i'm sure she still IS sagacious
well i hope she is at any rate
i haven't read Poe's "Raven" in quite a while
well you should
it's not good that you hardly read anymore
you're getting lazier and lazier
AND: BREATHE SLOWLY
you should start saving money
maybe do something on the side
you see if you don't think about this issue
you won't turn out well THINK
And: BREATHE SLOWLY
i acted too slowly
that's why Alice turned her attention
to another man
that's why i lost her
(tears are forming in his eyes...)
how could i have been so blind
about her needs her need to be loved
her need for a strong man
now you're strong BUT
you need to be stronger
don't be complacent
no i'm not strong you put too much faith in me
i have only these tears for her
i've never seen a crocodile ugly things
but i think i should see one maybe not
i should be more adventurous
save up money travel
DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE
AND YES: YOU NEED TO TRAVEL
writers need a variety of experiences
yes i need more experience MORE
there is not enough experience
too many books and not enough life experience
your bookshelf is dirty and so is the living room floor
Diana will be coming over for dinner clean up soon
BREATHE... BREATHE SLOWLY
the September crickets are lovely now
the afternoon wind is lovely now
all you need is love all you need is love
don't you know you are one with everything?
(a pink flamingo-image emerges...)
i think i'll have a steak soon
no i had a steak yesterday
maybe a slice of moon
with fresh trout trout is better
well, Shakespeare is a richer poet than Dante
don't get me wrong Dante was great
but Shakespeare was greater
don't talk garbage
but we need hierarchy we need to know who
stands where we need to determine rank
standing stands stand
i can't stand Douglas
who does he think he is?
always giving advice when it's unasked for
always interfering in other people's business
he's an obese child of gossip
he had better cool it
others say we had better keep away from him
oh, come on Mozart was a better composer
ah Bach yes BETTER MAYBE
MAYBE you had better shut up
yes you're right
i had better clean up
Diana would freak out at the sight
of the living room
i want this relationship to work...................
When I was young,
I chased only fun,
My head all filled,
I wrecked some cars,
Got into some fights,
Broke a bone or two,
But never learned my lesson.
There was right there,
A guiding Light,
That shown out,
From within my Father.
He knew the ropes,
Had run the course,
He'd even been in prison,
But me, well,
I was too "smart" to listen.
We butted heads,
The Old Man and me,
But I remained too
stubborn, to heed,
His hard won
To me back then,
Some of his words,
trivial and small,
'Cause, at my tender age,
I still reckoned,
That I just knew it all,
When he died,
We all cried,
After all he was
But gone is gone,
And I wanted fun,
Off I went to find it.
Still a young man,
I chased that fun,
going a little wild.
Ignoring most everything,
The old man had advised me.
In a bar,
the "Memphis Star"
A guy pulled a knife,
to stab me.
In a full blind rage,
I triggered my response,
And stole that man's
As you can imagine,
Right about then,
All hell commenced,
My plans and direction,
All took a correction.
Everything changed forever.
Now as I sit thinking,
Within this rank prison,
I dearly wish that to,
My old Daddy's wisdom,
I would have devoted,
much keener attention,
Avoided this, final pit fall.
A Hangman is comin',
Base drums rollin',
I finally rapidly drop,
to the end of my own rope.
Cause that's all he wrote,
The curtain descends,
And a last goodbye to me.
But I have met this guy. Perhaps we all have.
To any previous reader, I modified the ending,
thinking that perhaps this fellow needed further
"straitening out". And surely he got it!
Don't be too surprised
If you find all your tires flat.
If you discover crickets in
Your sleeping bag,
Or toads inside your hat.
If your toothbrush is all slimy,
Or your eyebrows feel like goo.
Just remember I warned you.
Don't act all that startled
If your hair starts turning gray,
And don't act so high and mighty
If your clothes smell like Ben Gay.
You won't have that big grin on your face
When there's a cowpie in your pillow case.
Don't forget I told you yesterday
Respect has never been passe.
You should have learned last weekend
When you joked of Papa's age.
I think you found your eyeglasses
Super-glued to the parrot's cage.
And you found your keys inside the
Apple Cobbler Papa made-
Sticky as old lemonade...
Now, Papa's patient as a prune,
And wicked wise as an old tycoon,
But when you go calling Papa 'Gramps,'
He's gonna hide all the lightbulbs for your lamps.
He'll commend your naivete,
Then have your Buick towed away.
He'll switch your sugar with the salt,
And all of it will be your fault!
Papa's always gone that extra mile,
He raised us proper, rank and file.
Papa helped us plant that apple tree,
That summer spent in Tennessee.
And he taught us how to fish for pike,
The year we built that motor bike.
It was on his shoulders that you cried
That year we learned that Dad had died.
It's a fair shade of disappointment you reflect
When you can't show Papa due respect.
When you start calling Papa 'Gramps,'
He feels that you don't care-
That to his guidance in our lives
You've been so unaware.
He's proud of you, can you not see
You're all he knew that you could be.
He sees in you a silver star,
He sees the you you know you are.
His influence had a profound effect
On the men we are today.
Please pay Papa due respect,
And don't chase his memory away.
Copyright © 2010 Richard D. Remler
I am a fake.
I walk these halls like a zombie,
so drained of energy and full of the hatred I receive from those around me.
I am discontent with all the people I am grouped with
and the stereotypes I am forced to fulfill
and the smile I struggle to keep on my face.
Don't tell me that I procrastinate,
Do not tell me I am insignificant and don't you dare tell me no college will want
"a student like me"
I am a fake.
I get three hours of sleep per night,
to study for tests in subjects I have no interest in
but I still pretend, and pretend
to be thoroughly interested in economics and anatomy
all while trying to be stable emotionally
though if I bend over to pick up a pen there is a chance I could break.
I am a fake.
I smile at everyone I see
and I genuinely do,
I respond, "fine" when asked how I am
and I genuinely am not.
I brush off the comments on how stupid I am when in reality I just don't understand trigonometry.
I act like I don't hear the remarks on how I forgot to do my makeup,
I'm sorry I cried myself to sleep the night before
worrying about maintaining a social status and still keeping up my GPA.
I am more than a number,
I am more than a rank,
I am more than a score in ninth grade biology, tenth grade geometry, eleventh grade physics and so on and so forth.
I am loud, and funny and have a smile that can stretch from ear to ear
if only they would let me stand up and visualize
and not silence me when I need to ask a question,
because, sometimes I just really need to ask.
I can be joyful and full of life when I am at my full potential
when I am forced to stay up until 2 AM cramming for that late notice chemistry test, wake up at 5:50 to make it in time for English tutoring and skip lunches to catch up in Spanish,
I am nothing, but a fake.
Masochism is my favorite way to love; I adore deeply the one that is eager to leave me in the dust for his superficial passions. I cry infinitely as the rain over the Pacific, but it does not storm. It only blinds me with stinging tears that make a shore invisible. I had you wrapped around my finger, and you slipped off like an oversized ring, falling between the spaces of a gutter to travel sewers of risk; rank with the smell of doubt and returning loneliness. I travel these sewers barefoot with your risks up to my ankles, searching for you, my ring, dress hiked up to run as if you hadn't already seen such exposed leg. But only I splash. My lover is elusive. When he trembles in anger, he comes to me; when I tremble, he only flees. He does not understand his debts. I do, only I don't wish that he pay. My kindness is self-mutulation, for I know he will not appreciate my generosity. I think of him while he daydreams of riches and soaks in his wanderlust. I am simply a piece, a fragment, a speck of dust swimming among many in a ray of sunlight. I am not something he truly wishes to strive for. This murders me, and smashes my already broken heart into smaller, sharper pieces that seem harmless, but develop greater capacity to cut flesh.