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 Oct 2015
Kobayashi Issa
All the time I pray to Buddha
I keep on
killing mosquitoes.
countless brevity
coded in 5-7-5
though some do insist
10 to 14 syllables
a better fit to its' root
others claim it should be expressed
in one continuous breath
its' content man and nature
those describing emotion
and opinions, have been called
Senryu, quite justifiable
nevertheless they all are
contrasting puzzles that birth
  flashes in our minds
Choka
 Oct 2015
martin
bless my sole
I'm in kneed
of a toe
it's all gone to waist
****
everyone nose
eye don't look
back
only a head
any more ?
 Sep 2015
Sjr1000
Poetry is too long too short too harsh
too real to ******* believe
when you're down on your knees begging for forgiveness for everything you feel.

poetry is too hot too cold too bold to fold.
too real to really feel
unless your heart is breaking.

poetry explodes your soul creates heat creates cold. drives the trembling soul right through that ******* hole.

poetry is all I know.
 Sep 2015
Terry O'Leary
1
Though still within our infancy,
we strive to thrive, but woefully
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.

Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys survival's harmony,
lays waste to life on land and sea.
Mankind, thy name is vanity!

By doubting Nature's regnancy,
defying laws with levity,
we strain our spheroid's symmetry
(perhaps a fatal fallacy?)

for, swallowed in the 'world of we',
we feed on vain insanity
with thoughts beyond eternity -
so strange when looked at mortally.

No use to seek a remedy
ensconced in ancient prophecy
for if not handled skillfully,
as clay we'll pay the penalty.

                              2
The Moguls rule with cruel decree,
control the crowds like puppetry,
pursuing greed addictively
with no accountability.

The wind, it reeks of Royalty
(awash in waves of perfidy)
while blowing ’cross the peasantry
(eclipsed in clouds of treachery).

The Queen, well steeped in snobbery,
sits, preening proud Her pedigree,
on throne of sculpted ebony
while sipping Sect immodestly;

to sate Her Regal Majesty,
a caviar clad canapé
is served with golden cutlery
by maidens bent submissively.

The King is bailed from bankruptcy
by Knaves who hoodwink artfully
the down-and-outer evictee
who wallows in their lenity.

Forsooth, the Money Monarchy
exalts the dollar dynasty
engaged in highway robbery
by Peacocks plumed in finery.

Yes, Jesters and the Fools agree
to truckle to duplicity
and laugh about it witlessly.
Long live the peon's penury!

                          3
To champion an oddity
(like two times twelve is fifty three)  
one reaches to theology
through paths of circularity.

In bygone trials of travesty
the doubters, draped in blasphemy,
endured the pain and agony
inflicted by the papacy.

Inspired by the Trinity
fanatics bent cosmology
in geocentric fantasy
while Bruno burned for heresy;

and aged women, randomly
accused of wicked witchery
by justice framed in infamy,
were racked and shown no clemency

That epoch of credulity
(when savants fostered sorcery
and practiced ancient alchemy)
arose in dark age quackery

as clerics dripping piety
(while raging, raving rabidly)
pervaded thralled society
with callous inhumanity;

'repent', they bellowed, 'verily,
forsake the world's iniquity,
live lives of want and chastity,
and give your gelt to God through me'.

                    4
The Masters make a mockery
of freedom and democracy
by holding down the uppity,
released from shackled slavery,

now fettered in a factory
else strewn across the Bowery,
still chained in bonds of bigotry,
immersed in seas of poverty.

And colliers, tapping balefully
in sunken-mine solemnity,
yet thrum a mournful monody
some call the digger's elegy.

To children, pale and raggedy
(behind a day of drudgery),
the boss man, oh so gallantly,
bestows a penny, niggardly;

though some are fed (belatedly),
their eyes recede in apathy
while bellies bulge, inflatedly,
with mothers watching, wretchedly.

When met with health adversity
or broken bone infirmity,
the pauper dangles helplessly
with no insurance policy;

and those engulfed in lunacy
are ailing blobs left floating free
in ******-dream obscurity -
a mired madhouse odyssey.

Ignoring mankind's unity,
the rich and poor dichotomy
breeds dismal doomed finality,
eventual nihility.

                        5
Renewing days of chivalry,
wild warriors fighting valiantly
bring freedom neath the gallows tree
while blending blood and burgundy

to toast the slaughtered enemy,
and so convince the colony
to cede with smile on bended knee
and yield her diamonds, silk and tea.

At first they call the cavalry
and then again the infantry,
so proudly primped in panoply,
with arms from finest armory

(embraced in hands so tenderly
bestow benign atrocity) -
and soon atomic weaponry
will extirpate posterity.

                          6
Misusing high technology
(to feed the face of gluttony)
depletes our Rock of energy,
now slowly dying thermally.

Our gadgets breathing CFC
fuel ozone holes' immensity
while cloud bursts, raining acidly,
wilt woods in their entirety,

and rivers, tainted chemically,
polluted biologically,
refill our cups methodically
and drown our souls organically.

Adjusting genes mechanically
may well blot out the bumble bee
annulling fruits' fecundity,
but brings big bucks reliably.

We wager perpetuity
to revel momentarily
in shadow-like obscurity
ignoring the futility,

but if we bet unknowingly
on fickle fate's contingency
and thereby act haphazardly
we're doomed to lose the lottery.

                 7
The modern day bureaucracy
abuses trust egregiously ,
embeds itself in obloquy
and offers no apology.

It paints the past in reverie
to camouflage the tendency
to strip away our privacy
which paves the path to tyranny.

With earlobes lurking furtively
that listen surreptitiously,
and eyeballs peering piercingly
we've lost cerebral sovereignty,

and those who dare to disagree
must hide away in secrecy
else crowd a black facility
(with water board anxiety).

                  8
Yes, sans responsibility,
our marble in this galaxy
will crumble in catastrophe
ere ever reaching puberty…
when we turn away
the "Ah!" in empathy dies
leaving us empty
Haiku
 Sep 2015
Jimmy Hegan
O Human give me love
O beautiful girls give me love
Where is priceless,matchless,countless love in the Universe.
Their is no measure's,no wall,no limits, no boundaries in love.
But we human's cross every limits, breaks every tradition in love.
We betray our loved ones
We do not remain faithfull to our loved one's.
But we find our love in strange streets, blue and red streets.
Roaming here and there for love.
At last not least
We **** our loved one's love  very cruely
O my love, there is no love between us.
World and Universe are full with technology and money minded
But their is no place for love and beloved one's.
When I was just three
I was given a tin drum
I played it all day
and into the evening
next day I could not find it
we are all wounded
and limp through our lives
till death or healing
Haiku
 Sep 2015
Senor Negativo
Joy
There is more energy encased in this clear bead
that crawls inexorably out of my eye,
than a million, billion universes
of millions of billions of bright burning suns.
I can see the chains of glowing power
split in the prismatic lense,
surging outward, and ******* inward.
Each quivering beam of dazzling radiance
cuts across my blurry field of view,
like a flitting glimpse of a naked nightmare
that lives beneath the skin of the sky.
All these things I have seen reflected
a billion, trillion times
in the shattered crystal shard
created by a single drop,
snagged in the net of interwoven eyelashes,
brought together by a spasm of joy.
As the liquid prism dangles,
an eye-sickle, drawn downward,
it explodes in a saline cascade,
and in the moment before the droplets reach my lips
I see the face of God, reflected in the surface of my tears.
 Sep 2015
Q
I spend my time missing you when you're gone
The seconds blur to minutes; can't keep track of time.
Life ceases to exist when I can't hear your voice;
Leaves me catatonic as I uselessly pine.

I spend my time missing you when you're gone
The months fade to years; I grow not a bit.
I spend my time missing you when you're gone;
A hole left unfilled by your sharp wit.

I spend my time missing you when you're gone
The hours turn to weeks; Earth stops her rotation.
I spend my time  missing you when you're gone;
It's a beautifully painful, endless situation.

.

I spend my time content with your company
The seconds become months I never want to leave.
I spend my time content with your company
The hours become years and time seems to freeze.

I spend my time content with your company
The weeks become centuries and I soar with glee.
I spend my time content with your company
The years become millenniums and I am set free.

I spend my time missing you when you're gone
But the moment you return; life is restored to me.
I spend my time content with your company
I am at my happiest when you've returned, finally.
im considering deleting this before i have more time to examine the feeling that inspired it in the first place because wow ew
 Sep 2015
Savion
You really have to watch those liberal males,
they'll spend hours and hours with you having
deep intellectual conversations.

They'll discuss deep ideas, contemplate esoteric
theory and spiritual ideas. They'll make love
for hours and write deep and meaningful poetry
about you. Sure, they will probably wear their hair
long and most likely won't own a television.

But, they'll understand art and architecture and
literature. It's true that they probably won't give two
shakes about who won what football game, but they'll
dance with you late at night under the stars and they're
always looking for new ways to please you and usually
understand your deepest thoughts, often before you
understand them yourself.

They'll be your best friend and always treat you as
an equal, in fact, it will never even enter their mind
that you're not. They're almost always physically fit, too,
because they're usually the outdoorsy type and love to hike.
They never make fun of others, or discuss small ideas.
They enjoy discussing ways to improve the world and
the lives of others.

Sure, they won't slap you on your *** and tell you to get in
the kitchen and cook them some dinner and bring them a beer
while you're at it like those macho men on the right. Instead
they'll probably tell you to relax while they whip you up a
gourmet meal and serve it to you on the best dishes.

Yeah, you really gotta watch out for those liberal males.
I wrote this in response to a derogatory comment about liberal men.
Morning not unlike the others
Petulant clueless and yet familiar
The city train and the jet flying low
Who perished overnight ?
Take the flower from my hand
You idiots and your vanity
American thrills corporate deals
The baying of a *****-bane of the masters
Blood payments to your gods--hope in exile
Good morning good morning
The record skips while the vortex tightens
Suddenly forgotten
The play on words with hands clenched
My light appears -I am filled
With all that is good in this world
A purposeful long breath then hope
For coffee is in hand once again
All is forgiven today............
(C) September , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson All Rights Reserved
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