If you cheated on your spouse
Do the right thing and tell the truth
Lies only make things worse
Running away only makes you look guilty

What proof do they have anyway ?
Are the photos a dead giveaway
Maybe it was the social media that caused a stir
Did your ex call you just to say hi?

Or are you still in love with your old flame
Your older now its a different game.
Wives seem more demanding than the old days
They have changed but I stay the same

Being hurt by adultery can ruin your life
Your old now... why not try a dating service
Match keeps telling me there are plenty of offers
A bunch of money I need to date Miss Hopper

Ever see a 60 year old on a dating site?
They seem out of place and expect a few winners
And its the man who pays for dinner and drinks
Its a new ballgame you must take time and think

You get lots of women who want a sugar daddy
They will say anything to get a free date.
But most of the time the others just shy away
Finding Waldo is the name of the game.

But this online dating is just plane strange
Its not really a great way to find a new lover
Most of the women you meet on chat
Have other issues like having no car

Do you really want to drive that far away?
For a coffee date that's miles away
I didn't even get in my car
What I wanted was just to far to drive
I had to call and cancel at the last hour

Everything is so out of place
And I hear the Aliens are coming from space
September 23rd has been mentioned a lot
Maybe they will abduct me instead

I don't really have any choice
It's just a pain to find a good lover
Women have it much easier if pretty
They can pick and choose without pressure

Because another man  is always flirting
And I was the one who let her get stolen

DFC  Aug 2017

You were leaving
     with the first of the Springtime thaw.
I glued my feet and
     now I'm stuck and you know that's all
               we ever found
          we knew how to do--
was just say fake "goodbyes,"
practice "I'll miss you's!"

We can sleep through our dreams
or die standing up
on the paths of same footprints'
           same old sidewalks.
But the equinox came and you went nowhere
                        quick.
Sick of saying, "It's fine here..."
                        Think
                    I'm just sick
'cuz the healthiest ones hated us
       and now they're all gone...

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

I was leaving
     we both knew that I wouldn't get far
before retreating
     to you and to this asphalt
               I've always walked.
               We always knew how
to just fake fake "You're fine's."
Swallow fermented growls.

We'll just sleep through these dreams
of packing our stuff.
Write our hopes on punched tickets--
           can't afford the bus.
When the equinox comes and we're still here--No
                              shit?--
We'll be convinced it's good here.
                         Think
                  we're just sick.
'Cuz the healthiest ones hated us
        and now they're all gone...

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

Stick together, squeeze the time in
with the snow falling down.
Do what we'd never get away with
when the Summer comes around,
       When the cops patrol the streets
              that the city won't plow

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

Maggots boil from under her skin.
  I will never see her again.
I have heart aches that
  stem from mistakes.
I count them as they
  leak from her skin.

Her eyes are raisins;
  I will never find what
they last captured.
  Cheekbones higher than
my song. My finger brushed
  along all that was black
and seeped into her back,
  tripping on her vertebrae
like a boy frolicking home.

  The cacti stand still--
while I feel quite ill--
  standing in an ocean
of honey.

  The people stand still--
America is ill--
  standing in an ocean
of money.

  You stand still,
too afraid to kill
  an ocean of hate
you tolerate.

A house full of memories
Stood still .
The moderation  killed  the  past
The people moved on
Some passed away
Others  lived faraway.
The garden  was no more
Money  can be the route of all
Evil.
It can change the way you live.
It can consume you
But  greater is one's soul
Don't  be fooled
Think about it.
We're do you want to spend
Your future
With or without God
Lost
Separated ..

Ksjpari 6d

Browse through the history
Money is increasing industry;
Let it be business or peasantry
It is omnipresent mystery.
Everyone for it see palmistry
Ready for money do idolatry.
Money make man go to optometry;
It has capacity to test sociometry;
As without it there is no entry.
With main, welcome complimentary
For development of our poultry
In which we live and do sentry
Our future which acts on ministry.
Browse through the history
Money is increasing industry.

I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Ksjpari 6d

The materialist item creates anger
Is none other than ‘Money’, ogre.
If it is available with us meager
We become a source of hatemonger.
It can make us sit or stand with finger;
It can taste sweeter than sweet sugar;
If in hands, it makes its owner stronger;
So that he can fight with wildest tiger.
You have it, and live even longer;
And will be called even younger.
The materialist item creates anger
Is none other than ‘Money’, ogre.
With it tensions, no doubt, linger
A lot of worry and threats augur,
What use is Salad without vinegar.
More joy of money leads warmonger
Lack of money people did malinger
The mundane things calling it vulgar.
All those who to receive it eager
Know well that demon in it appear.
The materialist item creates anger
Is none other than ‘Money’, ogre.

I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Ksjpari 6d

Earth runs by mural
Grows on soil alluvial
Is more communal
And less commercial.
But all work illegal,
Love for such is official
All equal tasks disloyal.
But at Money’s arrival
They treat us special;
Bliss and bless us total
We are never trivial
Comes position initial.
Money is more disloyal
Will leave you at trial.
If one is in life’s trial
Success of Money final.
If you want to be ideal;
No value only Money vital.
Agree or not Money is real
As with it we are acquittal.
Don’t be completely asocial
No practice of immoral,
It leads to God’s dismissal;
As we are never trivial
Comes position initial.

I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Ksjpari 6d

A pink small sparrow
Comes at my halo
And grants me furlough
To travel through hollow;
I do after her lonely flow
But at my trail many glow
With expectation inflow
Of Money red or yellow.
It made me strong fellow,
From yesterday to tomorrow,
Who travels lonely and slow
By using a wheelbarrow.
No friend or enemy allow
Me to enter in his furrow.
So ye decide judiciously now
And choose relatives or sparrow.

I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Ksjpari 6d

The only big struggle
Is for money bristle
Finishes like a bubble
When we see Sin puddle.
Is this so thing doddle?
Actually it is a circle
Vicious; none to fiddle
As it makes one nuzzle
In their cozy castle.
Earlier there was raffle;
Making us quite subtle
In all innate our struggle.
Money’s single ripple
Can conscience straddle
Into treachery subtle.
So dear when see boodle
Don’t forget to whistle;
And flee away with chuckle
From this vicious girdle.

I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
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