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 Oct 2015 Phil B
x a l
BLU PETL
 Oct 2015 Phil B
x a l
your light woke me up
like a passive blessing
you breathe into my being
I’m reborn right after sleep
& your existence - you being here
is my make-belief
 Oct 2015 Phil B
SE Reimer
~

where’s the rain
to save the day?
the silo empty,
the barn no hay.
the only pouring
we have seen
is from the counter
down the street.
gin and beer and
old Jim Beam,
the bar is full,
but glass is empty.
our men are weeping,
children hungry!
these fields that yielded
harvest plenty
under sweat of
daddy's brow,
now they’ll try’n
take my home;
state moves in
to steal our peace,
won’t leave us ’lone,
till we’ve been fleeced.
send a draught to
quench our pain;
end this drought with
drenching rain!
this to you we pray...

“pour from heaven’s door,
indulge us with an inundation;
from the bounty of your store
deluge us with a liquidation”


oh, keeper of
these cloudless skies,
send sweet rain
to wet these eyes!
for the lost ones
in this town,
to save this family,
save this farm,
from heartless souls
who mean us harm.
i am just a poor boy
whose cup has all run dry
no where else to turn,
nothing left to try.
flow in torrents,
pour in sheets,
send libations,
bring relief;
send the rain to
flood the street.
oh master of
the ocean deep,
pour your liquid,
pour your gold,
a’fore our children
grow too old.
no more saving
for some rainy day,
this to you we pray...

“pour from heaven’s door,
indulge us with an inundation;
with bounty from your store
deluge us with a liquidation”


~

*post script

the Western US is experiencing a four-year drought of
epic proportions and with water in such short supply,
family farms are burning up in the heat
with grave consequences looming large
on the not-so-distant horizon.
we witnessed this arid devestation
first hand a week ago traveling through
North and Central California, and
felt in just the tiniest way the crush
of water shortages at all her state
campgrounds. beautiful Shasta Lake
was dry except for a small stream
running through the lake bed...
how very sad; she is not the California
i remember in our last visit.
 Oct 2015 Phil B
Brent Kincaid
There are ladies on the internet
Who are offering me joy.
They say they can transform me
To a man instead of a boy.
Another guy has promised me
A massive ***** size.
I’m not sure I am comfortable
To that talk from a guy.

Another woman from Nigeria
Said her husband has died
With a bank account chock full
Of Krugerands inside.
All they want from me they say
Is a check for one grand
And they will put half of the gold
Into my greedy hand.

Now, that and the ***** ladies
They say live near my place
Are part of what the internet
Pushes daily into my face.
But I have become smarter now
And I fully understand
That buxom comely lass is really
A fifty five year-old man.

Bill Gates will not be sending me
A lifetime Disney Park pass.
And there are no fifty dollar diamonds,
They are all made of glass.
There is no secret bank account
In Nigeria, I truly feel.
But that pill that makes my ***** grow?
Now that, I am sure, is real.
 Oct 2015 Phil B
tabitha
my dear dear  d e a r  boy.... .. . ..

her eyes are pretty
her smile is wide -- & white,
just like yours
she's tall, she's slim, and
she takes good photos of you on her instagram
her small brunette bun is annoying....................ly cute
her little legs & little arms too
i'm sure it looks like something out of a magazine
when they are wrapped around you...

another hip kid from some northeast city
little Connecticutie~
did she know about me?
does she know that you live right down the street?

she hid behind your shoulder
that's how i knew
that she is in love with you, too
& it feels like someone shoved a grenade down my esophagus
and i'm just  w a i t i n g  for it to ******* in a billion bits
so i can just get over this

and then all the dads will bring their little girlies
and all the ladies will raise their strawberry daiquiris
eyeing the loose shards of my dignity
hoping that they could somehow help with their jaded seniority
going,                                  "lesson number one:
                                     love is never  always fun."
please understand that this is not a sarcastic poem.
while i do think she is stunning... this is not about her.
i wish it were that simple.
 Jun 2015 Phil B
OA Agusto
If my fingers traced your mind
(Like its pages were a book)
Like there was something to find,
Would you treat me like a crook?

Would you throw me against a wall,
Stare deep in my mind
And realise you are blind?
 Jun 2015 Phil B
Drake Brayer
Oh iOS, dreary titan of technology!
An SOS, hidden in secret typology!
Oh woe is me, tragic symphonic melancholy

If heaven had eyes, and hell had ears
Heaven would see, and hell would hear
The discordant storm, the miasma of tears

The screen is blank, my heart is dead
Error! Error! The bleak message read
Death marches slow, overlord of dread

Bright red head and monolith of Mac
iSurrender, iGiveup, Iambeggining to crack
Silent foot falls across the carpeted track

The darkest song of the darkest day
appleID.apple.com in the mindless gray
Hark! Hark! Once more into the fray!

March my brothers, to full lines and all!
Some may die today but the victors stand tall!
Monoliths of glory, providers of tech support call!

iPod, iTunes, iCloud, iPhone, iPad iknowitall!
Prices beyond reason, reset, restore and reinstall!
Kings of iLog, rulers of this bleak blue ball

Apple support for one! Apple support for all!
Unless your outside your support eligibility!
Sorry! Not my call!
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