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Traveler Aug 2024
I have a plan.
I haven’t made it yet
but I plan on making a plan.
So that’s the plan…
TT

Approved by the Harrison Obama campaign!
Zywa Aug 2024
Power is maintained

with traps, purity exists --


in a prison cell.
Play "The Three Arrows" (1972, Iris Murdoch), Act Two, scene Five

Collection "Unspoken"
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2024
~
The ballpark is on fire

And there's a man

In a hospital gown

Directing traffic

~
MetaVerse Aug 2024
The Joker King is joker ing the world.
My favorite food is (pull my finger) paste.
Gertrude's a guy that got his ****** girled.
I'm guided by my (kiss my ******) taste.
Science is racist.  So are roads and math.
"Gender's a social construct," said the it.
Showers are racist.  Take, instead, a bath.
Or don't.  (It isn't racist to smell like ****.)
Cheeba's the cure-all drug, the every cure
That cures the cancer caused by ******* smoke.
Since sugar's such a super food, be sure
To eat your cake while drinking cans of coke.
Ableist ******* can't (won't) get their way!
Antiableists vote for Special K!
nick armbrister Aug 2024
Like A Book
See how the Fake God and his Wallflower
Sit next to one another at the work’s Xmas party
We all know what comes next later after food
And plenty to drink they honour the tradition
******* till they can’t ***** no more
She likes empowered managers and he likes her
She said to a rep it was his first time joining them all
Yes as he picks the rival account but it’s Xmas
And he wanted to take notes and document
All what goes on for posterity and all that
Managers and the gals they attract
It’s all scripted and never changes
The rep knows the *** will be good
And equally scripted almost like a story
That he wrote long ago guy and gal
Fake God and Wallflower going at it
You know how it is just like a book
Always the same year in year out
As in Bangkok as in Manila
nick armbrister Aug 2024
19/31
Everybody knew what they both did
After the Xmas party a lot of rumpy pumpy!
The mid-size 31 year old female
And the 19 year old male getting it on
The lad has a galfriend and new baby
But still grinded the older chick
People told me of this and what joy!
They went to a hotel after the drinking
And ******* like rabbits oh illicit heaven!
It was a small Pattaya call centre with 15 workers
All knew and pretended it never happened
The gal flirted with me weeks later
When we all ate out at a fish resto
I fed on meat a different kind that she did!
Was I right now to **** her myself?
I wonder how she'd enjoy me
Would I be better or worse than him?
Captured for posterity in this poem
Does he still want her or msg her
And did they ever do it again?
Jill Aug 2024
Stupidly genius, moronic and shrewd people eat their fast food on fine China
Failing is vertical, errors are slander
Their gross insults impacting easy digestion
Hyperbole falsehood messiah

Piercingly silent and ardently soft people keep their opinions on fences
Insults are weaponry not to be yielded
Their platitudes cradling fragile personas
Perversely destructive defences

Classically learned and bookishly rich people carry their privilege with kindness
Science is built with colonial scaffolds
Their method constraining all true innovation
Parochial qualified blindness

Shockingly worthy and recklessly small people polish their boots with lead solder
Gravity holding them grounded and upright
Their bootlaces impacting aerodynamics
Inferior sturdy upholder

Gallantly serving and fearlessly trained people douse the political embers
Fire escape blocked with hobnails and lumber
Their pickaxes caught in the thick poison ivy
Nugatory self-rule defenders

The silent, the learned, the worthy, the trained people trade voyeurism for vision
Hologram values are no longer trump cards
Their gazes averted from hate-dripping sophists
Integrity first coalition
©2024
Zywa Aug 2024
Politics doesn't bring

you anything, it's not art --


and it's not science.
Play "The Three Arrows" (1972, Iris Murdoch), Act Two, scene Two

Collection "Unspoken"
Demonstrate your aptitude
In counterfeiting crimes of passion
Lest we waver to the winds
Of mending trouble when in fashion
Little movements
Rising action
Burst the bubble
Sharp reaction
Tends to tilt the clever scales
Towards dull accord or thinning ration

Best we bide the time and hide
Slow lament, magenta tide

Dance a spell
Your mind’s at ease
Skippers faring distant seas
Appearing softly in the breeze
Clouds all whipped and whirled together
Quickly scripting subtle pleas
Damaged strings all strum in threes
Defeat
Defend
Repeat the senseless killing spree

Best we bide the time and hide
Slow lament, magenta tide

Testament in vestments
Checkered patterns flow and flee
The body to its heart of hearts
The home of disconnected dreams
Rip the buttons from the seams
Fronds of dripping tendrils scream
Within the mountain’s pitch
Beyond a pond of wild magic teems
Whispering in reverence
Rolling in reproach’s steam
Fill yourself in patchwork fables
Piece together narratives
Now represent the winning team

Best we bide the time and hide
Slow lament, magenta cried
Robert Ippaso Aug 2024
I am Indian by birthright,
Simply black when it feels right,
A gender champion through and through,
A Southern Belle from the Bayou.

I cover all the bases from Gay rights to MeToo,
Environmental warriors – I’ll always stand with you.
Black lives truly matter, the Homeless my pet task,
All you need is Me, you don’t even need to ask.

Show me any audience and I'll immediately relate,
Where's the very harm to myself Ingratiate;
They say my laughs a cackle, but that's blatantly untrue,
It's simply Inner-me, reaching out to Outer-you.

As to championing Hamas, that's nothing but a slur,
The fact my husband's Jewish should that thought conclusively deter,
Same deal with loving felons, what will they dream up next,
That I'm a prosecutor who's never read the text?

On drugs and immigration, they titled me the Tsar,
I never asked for that as our Border is too far,
I'd rather spend my days engaging our core base,
Cajoling them to spend for this pivotal new race.

Vance calls me a Chameleon, Trump's confused by who I am,
They'll figure soon enough the cunning of this femme,
The more I keep them guessing, the less prepared they'll be,
When finally I pounce, then they'll twig who's truly me.

I've got the Party pliant, putty in my hands,
Celebrities galore, like shiny rubber bands;
Money pouring in, donors by the score,
All the worthwhile Media gushing it's Kamala they adore.

As to any policies, I don't stay up at nights,
Why worry when my bag holds Reproductive rights;
C'mon Donald, admit you’ve badly lost,
I'm the future President and you’ll be simply Toast.
This is a humorous parody of course. But as Shakespeare proved, there is often truth in parody
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