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Microbees Mar 2021
I want to walk down the street in the midnight lamp posts
I want to drown in the words of these open books
I want to find the path that leads to Atlantis
All of my thoughts are filled with these antics

I want to climb the canvasses stacked in my room
I want to sit for weeks and watch the flowers bloom
I want to swim in the clouds and just sink like the titanic
All of my thoughts are filled with these antics

I want to listen to the wind filled with my favorite songs
I want to dance with my emotions and feel like everything belongs
I want to grab the universe, and hold all of the planets
But i know, I can only dream of these antics
annh Jul 2019
Wit when overreached
Is neither as endearing nor amusing
As the antics of a court jester;
But it is infinitely more foolish.

‘The greatest fools are ofttimes more clever than the men who laugh at them.’
- George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords
Of This Whelk Hooked Sluggish Autodidact

Nay, despite failing to make the grade,
     this bluesy well red, duff mute
     average white band hit,
     hard knock school alumnus
jack of all trades master of none bumped along

     *** hole cratered steep pitch
     while riding the bus
bullies skewered kosher me all, cannibalized
     carte blanche timid ego

     brandishing exacto knife
     threatening jugular, cuss
sing maniacally pulling out all stops
     going headstrong for this doofuss

Embracing premonition making me mincemeat
     vis a vis via, Atilla the *** plus
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore
     after diet of worms

     as hors d'oeuvre hug guess
if given a choice, would prefer Loch Ness
monster, or the whale that swallowed Jonah,
     either t'would be a quite im press

heave feted feat, versus being poached,
      roasted, skewered burnt alive
perhaps sautéed to feed additionally,
     the Gothic (Jacks sin) five,
the latter adorned with

     Bandolier prototype, whence they would jive
to Vandals mess sigh ya,
     these last yet another contra band
     to play on command, or risk not being
     he gee beegee bing  a live

all thee above iterated blather spluttered
     as punishment against revive
ving human sacrifice by pence hoove lee donning
     a new jersey wordlessly trumpeting, and strive

ving assiduously as a one man lobbyist,
     and aye willingly negotiate
     to take more'n one wive

even though that would be big o' me decor,
thus a last minute reprieve given
     without axing por favor
and black keys handed over

     to Holy Roman Empire in ****
rubble ruins (over the Weeknd), thus brutish nasty,
     and short tempered surprisingly
     (boot not prematurely) ******* bon jour

foo fighters actually (grand
     aery an nah - did a three sixty)
     feting me guest of *** or,
boosting self esteem, the first time
     since being a kid in a candy store

which poetic digression
     did make quite a dee tour,
and bringing detente amidst marauding
     village people hoop reef furred war.
K Balachandran May 2018
a wayside mongrel,
tries to sell itself to me;
poignant its antics!
Jessica Jarvis Feb 2018
And she jumped
She jumped out of her comfortable, plush launching pad
And she tried
She tried to set every fan to crosswind towards
And she hoped
She hoped that, when she jumped, her cape would carry her
And she fell
She fell onto the shagged carpet, on her hands and knees
And she did
She did all of this, yet she moved on to more fun
And she went
She went on to ride her bike, more confident in her peddling, than jumping
And she knew
She knew that the ground was much safer
9/10/17

an·tics
ˈan(t)iks
noun
foolish, outrageous, or amusing behavior.
Aaron Mullin Jan 2018
I saw a good person do a bad thing once
I thought I was a good person but I did a bad thing once, too

Have you ever seen a good person do a bad thing?
Have you ever been the good person doing a bad thing (on occasion)?

Have you ever seen...
<>the bars that imprison you?<>

Have you ever been...
<>the bars that imprison you?<>

There is a potential to be stuck behind the words & letters...
of this Song to the Open Road

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

But look at the stars

|               |               |               |

And look at the bars

|A|n|d| |re|a|l|i|z|e| |t|h|e| |j|a|i|l|e|r| |i|s| |y|o|u|
Listening to Madeleine Peyrou's version of Between the Bars. Orion is having a good time laughing at my antics. Me? I am just ******* around with semantics while riffing on the Jailer's Daughter. Peace begins with empathy.
A taste
of wine
with scholar
that tears
their sheets
with innuendoes
and her
longing where
her chance
but witness  
in her
fiancé with
questions only
honor that
such blood
stains die
in supposition.

— The End —