A woman at the height of ******
This is where the poem comes to a howl
And the poet, hold his breath
He  remembered a long time ago
When her well pedicure feet caught his  eyes
And not her mind..a fetish dish
She could have let him touch up her pedicure..instead of playing with her  heart strings..

A woman at the height of ******
This is where the poem comes to a howl
And the poet, hold his breath
He  remembered a long time ago
When her well pedicure feet caught his  eyes
And not her mind..a fetish dish
She could have let him touch up her pedicure..instead of playing with her  heart strings..

Dreams


My Foggy images, became the joy of contentment
This toy with me in my dreams

And lead me to false hope of being happy
my pulses race fast, as I wish for it to be true

Even in the my foggy dream the scam builds
Oh, wicked dream, why tease me so,
They say that dream is like a river, and I can’t swim

Either upstream or downstream: no wonder I never win
Ends this nightmare, or put your hands on my weak heart

Morning sun, or bathroom breaks,
just closed down this lucidity overpowering rush

Let this, be my last thousand wistfulness of testing.
My dream choose me, I didn’t choose them!
A briefcase filled with one hundred dollars bills.

May the roof above us never fall in?
and may we friends gathered below never fall out.
May the good saints protect us
And bless us today
And may troubles ignore you
Each step of the way:  quote from an Irish blessing**


~~~~~~~~~~
When the living pretend to don’t care
About Obamacare, or this new healthcare
in this year of two thousand and seventeen  

His legacy is Washington new vanishing act
They daunting faces, as they smirked in triumph
The poor man burden, once again is left out in the dark
Washington DC is becoming the number one soap opera
An uncaring state of mind for the men in black

Who hold the magic key, who hired the pied piper?
Will pay the price:  the cry that will get us the most
is the cry of the children, in the final hours?

The wine bottle glugging sound effect as they praise
Cork popping, family bawling, and once again
We march for justice, when the living pretend to don’t care

Delay and Repeal:

I have not the power to stop them in the tracks,
All I can do is to write lousy poetry
reconsidered this bill: You have won
Now think of last man in the race:

The young people have exalted notions, because they have not been humbled by life or learned its necessary limitations; moreover, their hopeful disposition makes them think themselves as equal to great things and that means having exalted notions.
They would always rather do noble deed than useful ones. Their lives are regulated more by moral feeling than by reasoning all their mistakes are in the direction of doing things excessively and vehemently. They overdo everything they love too much hate too much and the same with everything else. (Aristotle)**


The Hereford cattles talk quietly among themselves
The commute home on the B train was noisier than ever
The passenger beside them youth squirmed and frigid
Youth of today is selfish and only think of themselves
If you asked for a passed, they will give you a laugh
If the elderly asked for the seat, they will give it to
Their backpacks, and scream louder, old geeks

Discipline, like if it’s outdated: no structure
A lost generation without stability:
A dark history, I lay awake and wonder
How can we fix this? Problem, problem
And more problem heading their way

While in the field the Hereford cattle
talk quietly among themselves
Nursing their calf without being asked of their mothers
to cover up their babies faces:

It is May Day
Not a sign of the tulips blooming
The sun won’t stay behind the clouds forever,
Said the weatherman  
What the hell do they know”.

I woke up with the intention of burning
The African scented candle stick: forgetting
That I didn’t purchased them yesterday:

Darkness fell upon this May morn
The air is cold and gloomy: somehow my
Favorite visitors took time from the morning routine,

Landed on my window and sang to me

I texted my brother and reminded him
To water the roses,
Trimmed the dry leaves,
On my outdoor patio upstairs

I remember  May Day long ago
When I finally broke the *****
I have pondered about that old lover
From time to time: with a genuine smile
So far my memories is kind to me,

There is a picture of a rooster on the kitchen wall
it reminds me of my grandmother kitchen
Where food wasn’t an abundant
Despite adversity:  
but lots of love was there in that old house:

Dark sky can dampen one spirit.
However, a hot cup of coffee, a keyboard
Can boost ones energy,
Composing a poem, a happy poetess
Or a game of slots can brings out the art of creativity
As she takes on the morning with a few
Words, a few lines, hoping to put a smile
On the faces of sadness

O yes, you are very naive
I can see that:
Out there in your own little world
Darken by the sunray
Wearing those ridiculous glasses
Upside down:

Sleeping with the liar looking forgiveness
O yes, you’re your father son
But do not think you will be loved again
By the woman and her son
And what maybe, might not be
I know the pattern.

Your nerves will be shattered by torture
For all those good times,
More lonely night to come
She was just as common as the others
When bitterness poison your marriage
They is no turning back
JACK...




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