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 Aug 2018 Seema
The uniVerse
I wore my England shorts today
as a form of camouflage
so that I could remain at large
amongst the crowds of yobs
it's amazing how they can afford so much beer
without having jobs

a group of them approached
asked if I had a light
I said I never smoked
but there's a torch app on my phone
which is pretty bright

then one of the three
roared at me
It's coming home!!
to which I didn't reply
as I went back to my phone
afraid it was some form of mating cry
I realise that some outside of England won't understand this poem completely however it seemed culturally relevant to write during the mass hysteria of the world cup.
Barmaid in a black bikini
Push up bra and all
Eight hours in an endless shift
Supplying visual accommodation
To fantasies best left unspoken
By the yabbos leering at the bar.

One half a pill at shift’s beginning
The other at hour four
Keeps the chatter ever charming
And the hopelessness at bay
As the clock sits paralyzed
And it’s always nine fifteen.
ljm
Inspired by David's   "I'M"
I once worked as a bikini clad barmaid in a beer bar that catered to auto workers from a nearby factory.  The pay was great but I had to take half a seco-synetan diet pill every 4 hours.  They made me rap and chatter and able to charm the yobbos making lewd suggestions and conjectures.  I lasted only 8 mo. before it was time to move on to something a  little more like who I am.
 Aug 2018 Seema
Suresh Gupta
Hostage
 Aug 2018 Seema
Suresh Gupta
Hostage
Unable to free myself
Nobody to turn to
For the demon is within me
External forces, internal forces
Counter, opposing
Tormenting
Screams within
Let me go, let me go
Till I realize
What’s holding me hostage
is me
 Aug 2018 Seema
Suresh Gupta
Freedom
 Aug 2018 Seema
Suresh Gupta
Freedom

Every breath
Every step
Every thought
Every word

To live
To be
To act
To feel

There is not much to say
Perpetually fighting to stay
There is so much in its way
To be free is all we pray
 Aug 2018 Seema
V L Bennett
Hey Mom!
 Aug 2018 Seema
V L Bennett
I saw my mother's face today
when I looked into the mirror.
Been wondering for a long time
what happened to her.
 Aug 2018 Seema
Logan Robertson
My Little Black Bear
Down by the singing river
Dancing with fate
Little ducks take to the rapids
Away from your dinner table
Off to the banks
You stand your grounds
Tall as you are wide
Your initials in the terrain
Cursive is the eye tooth that reigns
I see you
Posing with the lilies,
Elves and dwarfs
As the western sky looks down
Casting whispers
Is your closet filled
With both helping
The meek and sustenance
Under the skirts of nature
You're having an ****
Robbing all the salmon
And berries
Then slumbering under a tree
Tummy full
Those ******* eyes of yours
Catching shut-eye,
a couch potato, a game of the week
Your wide open mouth
Catching a bee,
A refreshment
That long smile on your face
Backpacking a dream
Mama and her cubs having your back
In some ways
My little black bear ...
hear, here
I see you, in me

Logan Robertson

8/08/2018
I once had a women friend.
 Aug 2018 Seema
Logan Robertson
Jack shot clouds with his gun when having fun
Storm on said, Jill, while his rain made her spun
Once his gun cocked
Jill's insides rocked
She sang for more shots of her clouds than the sun

Logan Robertson

8/09/2018
 Aug 2018 Seema
Logan Robertson
She loved the catnip
Straight for the hip
She was like an alley cat
With a worn out welcome mat
Her tail rang a chime
And every tom stopped on her dime
Petting was blunt
For all the toms went for the hunt
Affront of the beat
Two cats in heat
Nights played out in false hearts
Howls were off the charts
Brief was the moment
Lost was the fulfillment
Days sagged later
A same old story, bye alligator
Much to the chagrin
Of the alley's spin
When her baby was born
She was forlorn
Like a woman out of wedlock
Dealing with tom's, full of croc
My sister, I watched you fall
My words to you hit a blank wall
You played the game
Without a flame
Sadness as your son bleed
Now years later he followed your lead

Logan Robertson

8/09/2018
Pestered and pursued
by unknown foes
A topsyturvy land
where snakes can have horns
and cows can have fangs.
Night'mares' where the day's stallions
make mountains out of molehills

A chance to witness greek mythology-like creatures for real
For dreamland tis a place for the unreal and surreal.

Those hair-raising scary scary dreams
beset with horrified silent screams!

We do try to interrupt nightmares, pinching ourselves
With relief wake up to see there aren't any horrid elves.
We also try to interpret dreams filled with mystery
But gifted dream interpreters like prophet Joseph
Are now part of biblical human history

All in all, dreamland's fascination
for extra-ordinary exaggeration
and tall-tale imagination

Where myth and legend come to life
An amalgam of fiction or real strife

Where assorted monsters of the mind
reign supreme in that REM sleep of our kind.

Yet on the other hand the wishful, wistful sweet sweet dreams
where fantasies form mirages bordered by fanciful seams.

Where castles in the air that humans build, float gently down to earth
only to shoot back up unto nowhere from the awakened one's berth.

In dreamland a pauper girl can be a princess or fairy fair
for daydreams extend into the night and linger on there.

A quote I took to heart and it to console all and sundry
'that if your sweet dreams don't come true, don't you fret
for atleast your nightmares didn't come true either,
so just heave a sigh, by and by.

Every night let us all just fly away and escape
And lo behold  the extraordinary world of Dreamscape
My profile homepage pic represents my newest poem.
Long ago I got on the road
The world my back yard
Started traveling all over
Met many a poetic bard

Learned the ways of people
Writing of it all on the way
Have poems not on computer
Wrote sold songs sing lots today

Writer of book songs poetry too
Heaps still in boxes from back when
Seen many places met endless souls
Loved it all how I did back then

A traveler becomes a deciple of wisdom
But generations many have faded away
Even Jesus studied Bhudism in Kashmir
Was eighty five when he died there one day

Religious I found time wasters collectors
Of unknowing souls never dying on a cross
All comes down to wealth greed organized
No problems karma will be their loss

After all said and done all were just families
Those who were the captains of their soul
All much the same as all families were then
Since earliest days away back times of old

There was as if a unuversal language then
But since that time minds closed so tight
Soul slavery became a hundred years later
Writing bibles mans word not gods so right

I saw lands oceans seas mountains valleys
Ships made from straw camels horses too
Was so many ways to travel had they then
Country to country all under skies of blue

But now those times are over gone for good
As generations passed stories changed true
People all were just that people minds open
Greed and wealth lies written more than a few

We are all here to only learn oppasites choices
Like knowing right from wrong left and right
If you know them you don't need religions
A new born baby knows them day and night

If one cannot do a good turn one don't do bad
Treating others as you'd have them treat you
If it wasn't for a good samariton doing likewise
The story wouldn't be the one they call true

Simplicity I love that word its right up there
My insignificance in life my own invisability
One can't walk both side of a barbed wire fence
At the same time choices have to be made agree

I'm older than so many right now no regrets
Learned more than most would believe true
Almost finished this class schooling so be it
But old souls I adore each one of you

terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
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