#cruz - Hello Poetry

Sa gabing mapanglaw buwan ay lumitaw Aninag nya'y di makasilaw Sa mata kong mapagtanaw ilaw nya'y kinahanga At tila di bibitaw Sa aking pagtitingala Ng ulo ko sa ibabaw Ngunit sya'y isang buwan At akoy' isang ako Malayo, di malapitan At dampian sya'y malabo Tanging pagtingala sa itaas Ng tahimik, sa malayo At likhain aking pantas Habang nakatingin sa ibayo

0

Aug 29, 2024

Aug 29, 2024 at 2:54 PM UTC

reviel-marc-s-dela-cruz

Buwan ko sa Alas Unsi ng Gabi By: Reviel Marc S. Dela Cruz

Sa gabing mapanglaw buwan ay lumitaw Aninag nya'y di makasilaw Sa mata kong mapagtanaw ilaw nya'y kinahanga At tila di bibitaw Sa aking pagtitingala Ng ulo ko sa ibabaw Ngunit sya'y isang buwan At akoy' isang ako Malayo, di malapitan At dampian sya'y malabo Tanging pagtingala sa itaas Ng tahimik, sa malayo At likhain aking pantas Habang nakatingin sa ibayo

16

radiating street lamps ionized the indigo blue haze charging the night air sparking the city’s eclectic currents coursing through the abandoned raceways and empty streets energizing the phantoms of the city’s restive spirits the ghosts of past Great Falls Fests came jitterbugging back to life transparent veils lifting and falling with it, a voltaic indigo blue billowed out of the abandoned stadium pouring smoking oboe moans into the cavity of the great gorge “I was one of the last to perform at Hinchliffe Stadium” Duke proclaimed with his usual distinguished air “it was also one of my last concerts”, he added with a tinge of sorrow in his voice “the band was rockin the Art Deco tiles, splintering and shattering into bits of earth toned graffiti the last vestiges of a bygone Jazz Age dissolving into the disco fizz of the Seventies” the indigo mood clamoured off the rocks absorbing the sonorous waves like a stand of hallowed sequoias “I’m trying to remember what my last tune was that night. was it Caravan? or a Prelude to a Kiss? No no too mellow we always ended on an upper a real crowd pleaser, I recall the boys swung a medley before the grand finale that medley included Mood Indigo, Caravan, Sophisticated Ladies, Prelude to a Kiss. We opened with Kinda Dukish Rockin and Rhythm we closed with Satin Doll Yes I’m quite sure I waltzed them off the floor that night with Satin Doll” Duke ran his fingers through his processed hair. He grabbed my shoulders raised his baggy eyelids And looked me straight In the eye “Yes, we followed Tito Puente, he killed it we upped our game He was just starting out But at this time Silk City was going Caribe Juan Tizol was out of his mind that night, I thought him and Babs we're gunna jump ship and join the Salsa Circus Yeah El Rex and Celia Cruz were that good El Rex had the place jumpin and jivin it was a glimpse of the old days livin in the here and now just like the old days I couldn't compete with that so I waltzed them off the floor with Satin Doll a little cheek to cheek swoon maybe some guys got lucky that night and maybe some girls fell in love Yeah Paterson was changing, the ***** Leagues long gone the last ****** Auto Races crossed the final finish line weeks before when the raceways in the stadium replaced the raceways to the factories we knew it was coming to an end and with it all the good paying jobs, whatta shame just like me and the boys watching El Rex the Duke was dethroned by a King just like Silk City we had our day in the sun too a Satin Doll Sun Those were some good times, sometimes” Duke scratched his head, and he looked down into the swirling noise of the Great Falls “on a night like this the mood indigo takes you into the darkest hues of blues” fragment from Silk City PIT 6: The Great Falls Duke Ellington, Coleman Hawkins Mood Indigo Oakland 3/30/13 jbm (FRAGMENT WORK IN PROGRESS) Part 6 of extended poem Silk City PIT. PIT is an acronym for Point In Time. PIT is an annual census American cities conduct to count the homeless population. Hope and Labor is the city motto of Paterson NJ, nick named The Silk City.

0

Apr 30, 2020

Apr 30, 2020 at 5:14 PM UTC

james-bradley-mccallum

Mood Indigo

radiating street lamps ionized the indigo blue haze charging the night air sparking the city’s eclectic currents coursing through the abandoned raceways and empty streets energizing the phantoms of the city’s restive spirits the ghosts of past Great Falls Fests came jitterbugging back to life transparent veils lifting and falling with it, a voltaic indigo blue billowed out of the abandoned stadium pouring smoking oboe moans into the cavity of the great gorge “I was one of the last to perform at Hinchliffe Stadium” Duke proclaimed with his usual distinguished air “it was also one of my last concerts”, he added with a tinge of sorrow in his voice “the band was rockin the Art Deco tiles, splintering and shattering into bits of earth toned graffiti the last vestiges of a bygone Jazz Age dissolving into the disco fizz of the Seventies” the indigo mood clamoured off the rocks absorbing the sonorous waves like a stand of hallowed sequoias “I’m trying to remember what my last tune was that night. was it Caravan? or a Prelude to a Kiss? No no too mellow we always ended on an upper a real crowd pleaser, I recall the boys swung a medley before the grand finale that medley included Mood Indigo, Caravan, Sophisticated Ladies, Prelude to a Kiss. We opened with Kinda Dukish Rockin and Rhythm we closed with Satin Doll Yes I’m quite sure I waltzed them off the floor that night with Satin Doll” Duke ran his fingers through his processed hair. He grabbed my shoulders raised his baggy eyelids And looked me straight In the eye “Yes, we followed Tito Puente, he killed it we upped our game He was just starting out But at this time Silk City was going Caribe Juan Tizol was out of his mind that night, I thought him and Babs we're gunna jump ship and join the Salsa Circus Yeah El Rex and Celia Cruz were that good El Rex had the place jumpin and jivin it was a glimpse of the old days livin in the here and now just like the old days I couldn't compete with that so I waltzed them off the floor with Satin Doll a little cheek to cheek swoon maybe some guys got lucky that night and maybe some girls fell in love Yeah Paterson was changing, the ***** Leagues long gone the last ****** Auto Races crossed the final finish line weeks before when the raceways in the stadium replaced the raceways to the factories we knew it was coming to an end and with it all the good paying jobs, whatta shame just like me and the boys watching El Rex the Duke was dethroned by a King just like Silk City we had our day in the sun too a Satin Doll Sun Those were some good times, sometimes” Duke scratched his head, and he looked down into the swirling noise of the Great Falls “on a night like this the mood indigo takes you into the darkest hues of blues” fragment from Silk City PIT 6: The Great Falls Duke Ellington, Coleman Hawkins Mood Indigo Oakland 3/30/13 jbm (FRAGMENT WORK IN PROGRESS) Part 6 of extended poem Silk City PIT. PIT is an acronym for Point In Time. PIT is an annual census American cities conduct to count the homeless population. Hope and Labor is the city motto of Paterson NJ, nick named The Silk City.

150

Today was every other day.  My boss says "Hey Joe, where you going with that staple gun in your hand?" I draw a blank on my face and turn to face his . "You don't really know, do you, Joe?   You don't know where you're going.  You don't really know who you are.  You don't know much of anything anymore,  Do you now, Joe?" Then he laughs at me  In front of everybody He laughs and points at  What everybody but me can see.  And everybody laughs and they laugh and they laugh  But nobody talks to me anymore. My boss don’t talk to me anymore. My neighbors don’t talk to me anymore.  My girlfriend don’t talk to me anymore.  My doctor don’t talk to me anymore.  My mother don’t talk to me anymore. My father don’t talk to me because   He's long since gone  Flown far away from the words to this song. I call my girlfriend up on the telephone  She says, "Joe, I'm not your girlfriend anymore"  And hangs up the phone.  Nobody talks to me anymore.  I call my doctor on the telephone  He says, "hello, is there anybody there"? I say, "it's me, Joe, doctor help me, nobody talks to me anymore!" My doctor coughs and hangs up the phone.  Nobody talks to me anymore. I call on my priest in the church down the road  I say "Hello, Father? my Father, is that really you?" "Please tell me, dear Father, what should I do?"  My priest says "Joe, God don't love you anymore"  And throws me out through God's front door.  Even God don't talk to me anymore. So, I go down to a bar to have a little swim.  There's a bar stool there where the Cross should have been  The bartender looks at me, But he doesn't say a word.  I hold up two fingers pointing up at the sky So he pours me a double, ten-year-old rye. Which I toss down and motion for another All the while calling him "my brother". The bartender stares at my face As silent as the stone sleeping inside of that wall. Nobody talks to me anymore.   On the street, the headlights blind my blinking eyes.  Strangers push past me, some I know, most I despise.  A cop car pulls up and flashes his bright light on me  The cop points his flashlight in my eyes so that I can't see. But we already know, there's nothing he or I need to say.  He won't arrest me. It just ain't worth it to talk to me anymore. A ghost walks up and stares into my face. He doesn't say a word;  just hangs there in space And spins ribbons of colored lights  Inside my head.  There's no knowing with ghosts no more The dead don't talk to me anymore. Suddenly I see an explosion of lights  There's trumpets and harps and angels in sight A liquor store, neon vision of light Promises me the spirits of salvation  and delight, If I just step inside.  While next door, a gun store slowly cracks open its door . . .  I am my father and my mother's son and  I’ve never before bought me a gun, But nobody, nobody talks to me anymore. Igor Goldkind © 2018

0

Feb 15, 2018

Feb 15, 2018 at 4:59 PM UTC

Igorgoldkind

Nobody Talks to Me Anymore

Today was every other day.  My boss says "Hey Joe, where you going with that staple gun in your hand?" I draw a blank on my face and turn to face his . "You don't really know, do you, Joe?   You don't know where you're going.  You don't really know who you are.  You don't know much of anything anymore,  Do you now, Joe?" Then he laughs at me  In front of everybody He laughs and points at  What everybody but me can see.  And everybody laughs and they laugh and they laugh  But nobody talks to me anymore. My boss don’t talk to me anymore. My neighbors don’t talk to me anymore.  My girlfriend don’t talk to me anymore.  My doctor don’t talk to me anymore.  My mother don’t talk to me anymore. My father don’t talk to me because   He's long since gone  Flown far away from the words to this song. I call my girlfriend up on the telephone  She says, "Joe, I'm not your girlfriend anymore"  And hangs up the phone.  Nobody talks to me anymore.  I call my doctor on the telephone  He says, "hello, is there anybody there"? I say, "it's me, Joe, doctor help me, nobody talks to me anymore!" My doctor coughs and hangs up the phone.  Nobody talks to me anymore. I call on my priest in the church down the road  I say "Hello, Father? my Father, is that really you?" "Please tell me, dear Father, what should I do?"  My priest says "Joe, God don't love you anymore"  And throws me out through God's front door.  Even God don't talk to me anymore. So, I go down to a bar to have a little swim.  There's a bar stool there where the Cross should have been  The bartender looks at me, But he doesn't say a word.  I hold up two fingers pointing up at the sky So he pours me a double, ten-year-old rye. Which I toss down and motion for another All the while calling him "my brother". The bartender stares at my face As silent as the stone sleeping inside of that wall. Nobody talks to me anymore.   On the street, the headlights blind my blinking eyes.  Strangers push past me, some I know, most I despise.  A cop car pulls up and flashes his bright light on me  The cop points his flashlight in my eyes so that I can't see. But we already know, there's nothing he or I need to say.  He won't arrest me. It just ain't worth it to talk to me anymore. A ghost walks up and stares into my face. He doesn't say a word;  just hangs there in space And spins ribbons of colored lights  Inside my head.  There's no knowing with ghosts no more The dead don't talk to me anymore. Suddenly I see an explosion of lights  There's trumpets and harps and angels in sight A liquor store, neon vision of light Promises me the spirits of salvation  and delight, If I just step inside.  While next door, a gun store slowly cracks open its door . . .  I am my father and my mother's son and  I’ve never before bought me a gun, But nobody, nobody talks to me anymore. Igor Goldkind © 2018

71

Donald quacks. We better duck. Tell the Cubans to mute that trumpet While we, together, improve our luck (or end up ruled by a Socialist Strumpet.) The mallard was rebuked by Mitt; adversaries began to bray. The ducklings murmured: *guy’s unfit to be elected anyway*...

0

Mar 4, 2016

Mar 4, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC

connecthook

♪ Musica Cubana ♬

Donald quacks. We better duck. Tell the Cubans to mute that trumpet While we, together, improve our luck (or end up ruled by a Socialist Strumpet.) The mallard was rebuked by Mitt; adversaries began to bray. The ducklings murmured: *guy’s unfit to be elected anyway*...

8

pasty white ghosts haunt the corpse blue cornfields of Iowa whispering wisps of smoke shimmering shadows of the past setting the pace for the rat race that is the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election senators billionaires doctors frauds liars fools campaigning for selection in an archaic and outdated form of governance witness the spectacle the orgastic worship of solipsistic oligarchs bloated by their own sycophantic rhetoric it's just another form of all-American entertainment each orator's charismatic adage froths forth from a throat like a grave pragmatism throttles hope as we stoke the fires of self-indulgence and neglect the fact that we acquiesced as another deceiver stole votes we're choking on placebo pills every ballot cast is another act of apathy escapism pleading vainly for a savior to rescue our sick society but these hands didn't evolve so we could collect a representative to lead us blindly into one fiasco after another these fingers penned humanity's symphonies and these calloused palms have toiled for years under an apathetic sun we learned to make love using our fingertips and with these fists we could chart a new path but only if we raise them in defiance our only chance is leaderless resistance

0

Feb 1, 2016

Feb 1, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC

pearsonbolt

caucus

pasty white ghosts haunt the corpse blue cornfields of Iowa whispering wisps of smoke shimmering shadows of the past setting the pace for the rat race that is the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election senators billionaires doctors frauds liars fools campaigning for selection in an archaic and outdated form of governance witness the spectacle the orgastic worship of solipsistic oligarchs bloated by their own sycophantic rhetoric it's just another form of all-American entertainment each orator's charismatic adage froths forth from a throat like a grave pragmatism throttles hope as we stoke the fires of self-indulgence and neglect the fact that we acquiesced as another deceiver stole votes we're choking on placebo pills every ballot cast is another act of apathy escapism pleading vainly for a savior to rescue our sick society but these hands didn't evolve so we could collect a representative to lead us blindly into one fiasco after another these fingers penned humanity's symphonies and these calloused palms have toiled for years under an apathetic sun we learned to make love using our fingertips and with these fists we could chart a new path but only if we raise them in defiance our only chance is leaderless resistance

45

vote for nobody because nobody cares that you're a wage-slave that healthcare is astronomical and college is unaffordable nobody tells the truth about global warming nobody gives a **** about smashing the patriarchy nobody understands that black lives matter and since nobody has an ounce of integrity it's in our own best interest to let nobody have all the power if nobody can stop the endless war and ubiquitous surveillance apparatus that subjects the world to invasive violations of privacy then i will give nobody my support nobody pledges allegiance to all brothers and sisters and organisms on planet Earth and feels the weight of each life crushed by the gears of capitalism nobody sits alone in the school cafeteria nobody begs for change on the front-steps of Goldman Sachs nobody pirouettes atop a Charging Bull nobody stares back at you in the mirror a vote for nobody is a vote for everyone

0

Jan 24, 2016

Jan 24, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC

pearsonbolt

nobody

vote for nobody because nobody cares that you're a wage-slave that healthcare is astronomical and college is unaffordable nobody tells the truth about global warming nobody gives a **** about smashing the patriarchy nobody understands that black lives matter and since nobody has an ounce of integrity it's in our own best interest to let nobody have all the power if nobody can stop the endless war and ubiquitous surveillance apparatus that subjects the world to invasive violations of privacy then i will give nobody my support nobody pledges allegiance to all brothers and sisters and organisms on planet Earth and feels the weight of each life crushed by the gears of capitalism nobody sits alone in the school cafeteria nobody begs for change on the front-steps of Goldman Sachs nobody pirouettes atop a Charging Bull nobody stares back at you in the mirror a vote for nobody is a vote for everyone

43

cable news video brilliantly captures the blood washing Parisian gutters glittering in City of Lights sparkle images of carnage coagulate in my mind clotting my heart with searing resent in desperate need for release from the abject scorn that boils within my veins I flip the channel to watch a Predator marathon but light entertainment fails to satiate my restive soul I turn down the volume and click back to News My iPod is audio ready to soothe the savage beast with some righteous death metal I blast my earbuds, Culture of Death's new CD prepares me for real action ever at the ready digital recreation has me ********* my controller mustering up my Call of Duty comrades I am a recognized high score battlefield hero taking out godless apostates in the global war on terrorism I'm usually eager to baptize Iraqi jihadis in a Holy Ghosting bloodbath but tonight Black Ops kills fails to thrill my controller and I stand down opening the gun case I cradle my Bushmaster the smooth barrel and rugged stock feels so right in my hand it pleasures me to know I am one of the good guys with a gun I relish the fear and respect I garner during open carry troops to McDonalds the hairs on the back of my neck sometimes titillatingly rise one day I hope to take out an active shooter at a movie or the supermarket that would be way cool I place my Bushmaster back into the cabinet and carefully rearrange one of my Glocks yet even with this considerable armory I still feel insecure it may be time for a trip to Walmart to secure another Glock *** more ammo my heart recovers a bit when I think about tomorrows recon trip to my tree stand in the Jersey Highlands Bear season starts soon for the past few weeks I've baited the area with Dunkin Donuts and bacon grease I've detected lots of bear **** can't wait to drop one of those suckers I visualize one in my gun sights should be easy pickens my CD ends with some real raucous **** removing my earbuds I turn up the volume on the News footage from last summer's Black Lives Matter demonstration runs in continuous loop members of the New Black Panther Party are yelling into the camera a woman in a black burka her eyes squinting angrily at me from underneath her cover sends shivers up my spine when we take our country back they will be served some Second Amendment justice News flashes Ted Cruz condemning Muslim refugee resettlement, in a Christian Nation only Christians should be allowed in... News breaks back to footage from the concert venue highlighting the blood stained mosh pit News flashes ISIS Jihadis riding in Humvee's routing the fleeing Iraqi army once again News highlights a smiling Putin firing off Caspian Sea cruise missiles into the bleeding Levant examples of decisive leadership, if only Obama could grow a pair News flashes to a Rose Garden Obama bragging about killing Jihad Johnny the drone strikes and active bombing campaigns in: Syria Iraq Libya Somalia Nigeria Mali Yemen Sinai Afghanistan Kenya Congo and other unspecified locations are working says the Muslim Prez By the looks of Paris any real American Patriot would think not we need to send a message a quick strike fix some major shock and awe to placate a nations troubled soul if that offends any Christian turn the other cheek wimp, so be it I say go Old Timey Testament on their *** let our vengeance is mine God **** them all **** them all **** them all Culture of Death: Cystic Dysentery Barry McGuire: Eve of Destruction The Doors: The End jbm 11/17/15 Newark

0

Nov 17, 2015

Nov 17, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC

james-bradley-mccallum

Righteous Ruminations

cable news video brilliantly captures the blood washing Parisian gutters glittering in City of Lights sparkle images of carnage coagulate in my mind clotting my heart with searing resent in desperate need for release from the abject scorn that boils within my veins I flip the channel to watch a Predator marathon but light entertainment fails to satiate my restive soul I turn down the volume and click back to News My iPod is audio ready to soothe the savage beast with some righteous death metal I blast my earbuds, Culture of Death's new CD prepares me for real action ever at the ready digital recreation has me ********* my controller mustering up my Call of Duty comrades I am a recognized high score battlefield hero taking out godless apostates in the global war on terrorism I'm usually eager to baptize Iraqi jihadis in a Holy Ghosting bloodbath but tonight Black Ops kills fails to thrill my controller and I stand down opening the gun case I cradle my Bushmaster the smooth barrel and rugged stock feels so right in my hand it pleasures me to know I am one of the good guys with a gun I relish the fear and respect I garner during open carry troops to McDonalds the hairs on the back of my neck sometimes titillatingly rise one day I hope to take out an active shooter at a movie or the supermarket that would be way cool I place my Bushmaster back into the cabinet and carefully rearrange one of my Glocks yet even with this considerable armory I still feel insecure it may be time for a trip to Walmart to secure another Glock *** more ammo my heart recovers a bit when I think about tomorrows recon trip to my tree stand in the Jersey Highlands Bear season starts soon for the past few weeks I've baited the area with Dunkin Donuts and bacon grease I've detected lots of bear **** can't wait to drop one of those suckers I visualize one in my gun sights should be easy pickens my CD ends with some real raucous **** removing my earbuds I turn up the volume on the News footage from last summer's Black Lives Matter demonstration runs in continuous loop members of the New Black Panther Party are yelling into the camera a woman in a black burka her eyes squinting angrily at me from underneath her cover sends shivers up my spine when we take our country back they will be served some Second Amendment justice News flashes Ted Cruz condemning Muslim refugee resettlement, in a Christian Nation only Christians should be allowed in... News breaks back to footage from the concert venue highlighting the blood stained mosh pit News flashes ISIS Jihadis riding in Humvee's routing the fleeing Iraqi army once again News highlights a smiling Putin firing off Caspian Sea cruise missiles into the bleeding Levant examples of decisive leadership, if only Obama could grow a pair News flashes to a Rose Garden Obama bragging about killing Jihad Johnny the drone strikes and active bombing campaigns in: Syria Iraq Libya Somalia Nigeria Mali Yemen Sinai Afghanistan Kenya Congo and other unspecified locations are working says the Muslim Prez By the looks of Paris any real American Patriot would think not we need to send a message a quick strike fix some major shock and awe to placate a nations troubled soul if that offends any Christian turn the other cheek wimp, so be it I say go Old Timey Testament on their *** let our vengeance is mine God **** them all **** them all **** them all Culture of Death: Cystic Dysentery Barry McGuire: Eve of Destruction The Doors: The End jbm 11/17/15 Newark

156

Ahead. Hey it's _____ Give me a call I'm At the firefly I Dont know Where Ocean people are so Have a good issue I Was going to be Beautiful. Alright make sure you Press the pictures From the later...

0

Feb 2, 2015

Feb 2, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC

lightbulb-martin

Voicemail

Ahead. Hey it's _____ Give me a call I'm At the firefly I Dont know Where Ocean people are so Have a good issue I Was going to be Beautiful. Alright make sure you Press the pictures From the later...

12

Penelope Cruz Used to muse On the use Of oversized microwave ovens In the covens Of Barcelona. Give them their due They know how to imbue Broomsticks with fresh belladonna!

0

Mar 28, 2014

Mar 28, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC

david-alexander-jackson

Penelope Cruz On The Idiosyncratic Use Of Broomsticks

Penelope Cruz Used to muse On the use Of oversized microwave ovens In the covens Of Barcelona. Give them their due They know how to imbue Broomsticks with fresh belladonna!

9