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Manx Feb 13
In between the lines
There's the hint at some opinion
And not just pictures you hang crooked
On flimsy nails you drive.
I'd rather keep the vocabulary
Short & simple,
If there's more from it
Who might be reached
Or that might be derived.

I know you think you're something
Just as much as I,
I know I think you're something
Just as much as I.

If you can't see, you can have mine;
I've already given up on one eye.
If you can't sense it,
I can go on deprived.
To me it makes no difference,
I'm only trying to help.
Come what may, I'll survive.
Manx Feb 13
He belongs to it
As a citizen of the nation:
Another voice among the crowd,
A plebian shotuing outside the assembly.
Raise up your hands, my compatriots,
And let them hear your opinions!
Is the conduct quiet? Loud?
Have you dampened all other noise out?
Do you have an ear to listen?
It's a re-run made parody
Having been so shoddily done
From being so poorly conceived
By a lack of understanding.
Manx Feb 13
I walk alone
Purposefully,
I rest afar
From home.

These aching bones,
Debride me of such woes
And deliver restitution
Of with what I was born.

Painless, happiness,
Life without sorrow
Free from fortune.

To live as I was young
But with the benefits of growing old.

Bless me with that gift of insight
And provide me with good experience,
That I might grow & blossom.

Into the butterfly & not the buzzard,
Into the dove & not the eagle.

From the deserts & the mountains,
From mediterranean to peninsula.

Let me walk away
From the affairs of the needy,
Who have their fill
And are even fat because of it.

Let me walk away
From the affairs of the greedy,
Who can't stomach more
But make room by vomiting.

Let me walk away
From the affairs of the seedy,
Who have good families
But can't keep to themselves.

Let me walk away
From the affairs of the piety,
Who possess nice quarter
But must room in others'.

Let me walk away
From the affairs of the ******,
Who know what is wrong
But still freely engage in it.

I walk alone
Afar from home,
I rest purposefully.

Painless, happiness,
Life without sorrow
Free from fortune.

For the sake of wisdom, virtuously.
For the sake of virtue, wisdomously.

Modest & humble.
Manx Feb 13
There's talk of rules in a capitol,
Whispers around Moscow
Of how to act clandestinly.

On how to move in the shadows,
Of acting without notice & silently.
On how to avoid & evade,
Of how to deflect & debate.
On how to turn people over,
Of how to churn up info.
On how to survive the living
Of an actor of a foreign agency.

There's talk of rules in a capitol,
Whispers around Washington
Of how to get away with things.
Manx Feb 13
Take me at my word,
Or don't.
To me, it's nearly the same.
But don't expect
Should you neglect
To accept me being forthright,
That the same expression
Should cross my face.
You mistook honesty for lie,
Biography for farce,
Stand-up not discussion-
It is yet tragedy but comedy.
Manx Feb 13
For any head beneath the crown,
Any hair which the scalp has graced,
Was placed upon there by the Almighty
To give right & honor their divinity
As our King of England, His Majesty.

Long may He reign.

For health & in praise,
We honor our royalty & nobility
And recognize their sovereignty
With zeal & in haste,
We bend the knee happily.

For the success of our kingdom & country,
Who else may we thank?

For our rights & our liberties,
Who else guarantees?

Grateful are we, who share in this hymn,
To have been blessed by the Lord above
For such righteous leadership
And clear-headed soberness.
In the face of our adversaries,
Your strength has never wavered
And your acumen has never wandered.
You have remained ever stalwart,
Always earnest & virtuous.

God-chosen & proven self-evident;
May the sun never set
On you who are worthy.

Long may He reign.
In praise & sincerity.
Manx Feb 13
In I came to Dublin town,
Riding one fine morning,
I spied some Johnny Bullies
And I started off a'cussing!

Leave my home,
Go on get out.
Leave the whiskey,
Leave the grub.
Tell the king
To go *******
And stay in his doe-hog hovel.

O'er glens of An Cabhán
There flew a rag of red,
I tore it off from where it hung
And ripped it all to shreds!

Leave my house,
You're unwelcome.
Leave the rope & iron.
Tell the king
To go *******,
Lest he would rather violence.

In Londonderry & Belfast,
Pleasant little branches,
We'll grow ourselves gigantic oaks
Uproot their picket fences!

Leave my home,
Go on get out.
Leave the whiskey,
Leave the grub.
Tell the king
To go *******
And stay in his doe-hog hovel.

Say the hounds are all but slept,
Yet I still hear the barking.
I think it restful pouting
Readying for a real good bouting!

Leave my house,
You're unwelcome.
Leave the rope & iron.
Tell the king
To go *******,
Lest he would rather violence.

Hard to find good honest work,
When of royal or noble;
Hard to find good honest work
If they claim you're not loyal!

Leave my home,
Go on get out.
Leave my house,
You're unwelcome.
Tell the king
To go *******,
And kindly don't respond.
Johnny Poodle/Noodle - Yankee Doodle

John Bull - Personification of England
A'cussing - Cussing, as in cursing, but also accusing.
Doe-hog hovel - Buckingham Palace
Rag of Red - Union Jack
Grub - Foodstuffs
Rope & Iron - Noose & Cutlass
Pleasant little branches - Douglas Ross Hyde, first President of the Irish Democratic Republic. Young advocates of full Irish independence.

Just a fun shanty
Manx Feb 11
Mencius, what is that they're doing?

Zhǐ! Another immortal walked from the sea;
Leaf & cordage finely chopped,
Throughly masticated & combined,
Left to the air to then reside
And collected after dried.
How most strange & curious!

You say the nobility call this parchment,
But for humor as irony
And because of the sound made
During the process of hammering,
The craftsmen call it paper?
And, like with tattoos,
They use pastes & fluids like dyes & resins
To stain drawings, shapes, and characters?

The lesser the weight of tablets,
Well-traveled with, easily read & clearly,
Markable with ease; readily inviting change
After change, reflecting our fragileness & resilience, offering record of our thoughts & accomplishments, a chance for the more prolific scribe and the library diverser & denser?

How wonderous a creation,
How gifted the craftsmen,
How genius the inventors.


Wow. That was so long ago
Before I was born.
But then compared to much else,
This fledgling has yet to have flown
From the small enclaves it nests as home.
Lizzie Bevis Feb 1
I peep behind the horse chestnut tree
as you run far and wide,
and I begin to count to twenty-five.
1 banana, 2 banana, 3 banana...
Ready or not, here I come!

Are you hiding over there?
I begin to search high and low
wondering where did you go?
Then I hear your stiffled giggle
Ah, I found you and my smile is wide;
Now its my turn to run and hide.

We giggle and run down the garden
and you begin to count behind the tree
1 banana, 2 banana, 3...
I run towards the garden shed
to the side of the house,
as I attempt to be as quiet as a mouse.

I crawl behind the compost bin
and crouch behind the reeled up hose
but, then I hear your footsteps begining to get closer.
So, I hold my breath a little
and I try and keep myself steady...
Oh **** it, how did you find me already?!

©️Lizzie Bevis
This poem was inspired by the children playing hide and seek in the orchard today.
Ah, I remember those days when life was just fun and games!
neth jones Feb 25
is this is some kind of nocturnal dance       ?                   
              one to tune the world to whim
  it's spun around our column     
   you saturate into the night   purple and staining
unrestrained   beaming in your hostility   and  blue as wishes   i approach
rude as great depth  you supper on my motion                             
         scupper me   whilst looking as bleached  as surrender
                                                       ­     or behave
so  i charge after you  inflated  and the moonlight is revealed

moon    mewling and fully realized                                                         ­
now  for illuminated clouds   to have their bellies torn at
the earth charges with gymnastic prat        
       you go at witchcraft in a pranky manner
girling and ferning your thrift score gown      
      you drag this disco into the greeting forest
the treating darkness fills in
   like furniture addition
and the beats quicken to encourage

i tail you with athletic mammalian stride                        
whilst you whip your expressions
                       weaponized   at my pursuit

but  both of us have nature on our side
germing with merit              
every hunter    every heat            
there's teeth between those tree
and we dance    oscillate  with grins
                              and battling antics
wiving the night music
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