We touch with an air of silence,
A feeling warm, but none too cool.
Our skin can feel the brilliance
Of wading through this reflecting pool.
In the night we'll build a fire
And hang our clothes to dry.
Then let our feelings perspire
And embrace the morning sky.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
Getting old is growing lonely
Passing on the foreboding trophy
Digging the hole for pushing daisies
Singing tunes for avoiding crazy
Stalking memories by retelling stories
Cheating time as reliving glory
Cursing change while swigging brandy
Scaring children wanting candy
Knowing all and seeing phonies
Growing grey is making you stoney
Casting you far
Dropping you coldly
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 6:49 AM UTC
Isn't it nice to rhyme
When words strike as divine
Made to fit the part
Unlike free verse aristofarts
Who would **** your mother
Like beatnik Stepbrother
And sleep through their clocks
For nocturnal jabberwocks
If ever was a Good man.
Benny swung with the times, man.
But Jazz rolled from the hits
Of white British misfits.
When South Bronx fell through crack
The sky and hood went black
Poets sold missing car parts
For Busta Rhymes to bust a start.
Poetry had to lose an art.
Rhyming tossed like the ****
Who ****** Lord Tennyson's ****
Which tugged at Victoria's smock.
It's easy to criticize
An age demystified
But now personifies
Poetry commercialized
And the old aging misfit
Tries to gather the spit
With a mouth so dry.
But not a poet in the sky
Will sanction the crime
To help his verse opine
Against the words-of-a-kind
That English bespoke to rhyme.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
A is for Austerity
To pay back the Bank
For the Collateral
On your defaulted Debt
That exploded Exponentially
Like the financial Fiasco
Of the Grecian Governments
Indebted to Hitler's Homeland
Return to Investors
The rent on your Job
Capital is their Kingdom
The laborers are Landless
Misers enslaved to Misery
The N
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 1:35 AM UTC
Oh, poor foolish man.
You led me astray.
You emptied my pan.
But the price is yours to pay.
You could've robbed the rich
You could've stole the earth
But you only took a pinch
Of a man as poor as dirt.
And I've learned a lesson
Less costly to a lord
You could've had a session
With a large and princely horde.
I have taken pity
From those who give sympathy
And share with me their charity
While regarding you in antipathy.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC
China Lady, give me your time.
Else, refuse me with a smile.
China Lady, won't you be mine?
And walk a thousand miles
To the country in my head,
Where my heart was bled
That began these thousand miles.
When she and all were mine
Those promises sealed with smiles
And buried in capsules of time.
China Lady, give me those smiles.
Let the sorrows be mine
To walk those lonely miles.
China Lady, let me rest my head
In a ***** that never bled
For love that dragged a thousand miles.
Though the blood be mine.
And the tears be smiles
Like broken capsules of time.
China Lady, what is the time?
I haven't seen your smile.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 3:50 AM UTC
Love of country!
Love of country!
If I had a dime
For every time
They brought out the wine
They'd sell me their piece
Of this country.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
Capitalism is fair.
Though capitalists be well bred.
The poor can only care
That they should sometimes be fed.
The rent they pay to capital
Exceeds the nation's rate of growth.
People are mere collateral
When fortunes begin to bloat.
The masses may start to shout.
Though the rich intend to die out,
Inheritances never croak.
Inequality learns to cope.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:37 AM UTC
Put down your sword,
Oh mighty pen.
Let me a word,
Ere you count to ten.
Do you ever speak
The knowledge I seek?
Please answer with zen.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 5:25 AM UTC
Margret, you are blue's favorite.
If I could paint your portrait,
I would render you more plain
To bring your art less worldly fame.
It would give critics fewer clues
Should they look for some girl I knew.
They'd compare it to every face
And not find your pretty trace.
But I would live over the way
And still draw you everyday.
Should my view be obstructed
I would not be distracted.
I'd still draw and think of you.
Until you became the girl I drew.
And I would forget the hue
Of a Margret I once knew...
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 4:59 AM UTC