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Jeremy Betts Feb 8
"Go deep son!"
I run deep for the long one
But there's no one
The ball doesn't come
Now I'm just on the run
A prodigal, no, a wayward unwanted only son
With no distinction of direction between to or from someone
I'd give everything for a destination
I'd give it all for a connection
I'd settle for a distraction
Or even a sliver of affection

©2024
Thomas W Case Dec 2023
There is a
force at work that
doesn't want me
to write.
There's always
something vying for
my attention.
The phone rings,
the kittens want
played with,
I get *****.
All I have to
do is think about
writing, and the
next thought is
I should take
a nap.

To read about
writing
isn't enough.
To promote my
writing won't cut
it either.
To finish one more
poem, to communicate
something worthwhile
is what will help
me sleep tonight, and
keep the undertaker
lonely and afraid.
If you get the chance, check out my YouTube channel.  My book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems is available on Amazon.
Jupiter was visible
yet again tonight
a symbol of tolerance
and understanding
     or so i have read
shining bold and proud
yet unwittingly misleading
to those who might look
contradicting the import
of ever-present Polaris;
but to me
ruled as i am
by nothing less than
the magnificence of the Sun
it is merely
another distraction
to confound this search
for my true north


.......................................................
Jeremy Betts Feb 2021
You know exactly who I'm referring to when I say...

They have this habitual political ritual of babbling on
Rambling wrong, your standard God complex politician
Standing in front of a congregation spewin' lies, oozin' corruption through thin skin
Politickin' about a mission we should sht on and skip the Charmin
This is my f
ck you dissertation, a doctrine based on real time observation
A deep dive into what has essentially become an unhealthy obsession with sin
Holding a position I'm told I have no right to speak on much less be a voice in
But if one life don't matter none, no life matters son
Including your own, don't confuse facts with opinion
Watching your tone would be wise in this situation
Hooked on the slogan defund every police station
Convinced it means let loose the entire prison population
You know, just for fun
Stoke the confusion, skip any and all explanation, no need for a reason
Willfully blind to the sedition, a corporation backed rebellion, it's open season for treason
To quote the law men, "we'll even hold the door for y'all till you're all in"
Then when they're leavin' make sure to welcome them back again
A simple bewildered complexion brings 'em satisfaction
Chaos the reflection of a lagit election
Regardless of the facts within reach, we witnessin' half a population claim fiction
Feel the friction
Destruction is the reaction, falling for a complex distraction
The consumption of our damnation overshadowed by a mutation of this god forsaken nation
How did we wind up in this position? How'd we let this happen?
I reckon we sure weren't just placed in this situation, a fraction of us stumped by long division
It''s by no means an answerless equation but a question we still debate on
Standing upon a soapbox trying to out crazy the competition
What was once neighborly is now seen as the opposition
Someone please just hit the gong so we can move on
Restoration is easier than resurrection so stay strong
Hope has been long gone for so long, maybe to long, a hopeless conclusion drawn
No anti venom for our venomous condition
A symptom raised from conception, taught to the young
We bet on corruption inside a polling station
Ballets a currency printed on different stationery then it's just simple addition
Still waiting on the announcement that we finally won
But that day will never come unless you're higher echelon
Controlled by the elusive free mason, I'm guessin'
Can't know for certain what side they on, influencing our direction from behind a curtain
A mission forgotten, a population forsaken
Praise God as dangerous as hail Satan
That should be a$$ backwards but it ain't wrong, I'm just sayin'
If you were payin' attention you wouldn't need an explanation
Incarceration eludes the criminals behind the walls of that white mansion
Not a single one ever pays for what they've done and that's fuel for frustration
The people scream out objection and beg for a proper ejection of this borderline evil pantheon
But they get to run over and over again every election and instead of serving up a strict ten day eviction
We just turn to digital b*tchin', no real action taken so we're stuck with this dangerous faction
One that holds Rome as its inspiration so you know this nation is collapsin' it's just a matter of when...and if we'll even make it to the end

©2021
distracted yet again by
the fullest of moons
on an unexceptional night
blown out of proportion
by undue reverence
and misplaced relevance
looming larger than it seems
nature should allow
a false sense of light
marred by hues
of orange and red
forced upon it by
this unseasonably late
summer's twilight
there are those who
will assign meaning to
this sight and to any
signs thus associated
guided by the symbolic
grounded in the scientific
somehow the truest
of explanations are overlooked
the simple will always
inexplicably
be far less appealing
than the convoluted
is Sep 2023
The rusted mailbox
creaks as it’s pried open,
dented door dislodging.
Two yellow balloons
tethered to its post
and bobbing in the wind,
stark color against a slate sky.
The bomp bomp of the balloons barely
heard over the wind’s whistles.

Empty inside.
It’s Sunday
after all. Too easy for you to forget
the day when days
amalgamate into one
long moment. Stuck in an
everlasting condition,
waiting for the day
when your mind
at last
is quiet.

A quiet
that comes when your hands
are busy. Too
distracted by tasks to
dwell on thoughts.
Unpolished Ink Aug 2023
Summer's lady  
green she taps  
soft on the window
sweet meadow grass  
not yet turned to hay
draw me out then
lead me astray
scatter my good intentions
I will work another day
Satisfaction is impossible
Still stubborn hope arises
From a heart that aches
And throbs for distraction

For a word a touch a taste
Will push away discomfort
Dispell despair and doom
Carefully Close the chasm

A language without words
Seals the gaping gashes
Knit from time and touch
Becomes a healing action
Like watching sports in a hospital bed. Broken body, wistfully dreaming.
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