#tom
“The Topography Ahead”
I found the spark
in the dark of our raft,
"Go to hell" whispered,
on this soul-forged craft.
But then came the Boy
with his books and those keys,
With "style" in his pockets
and "rules" on his knees.
He spoke of life’s honours,
the way things are done,
The "siv’lized" method
of "having our fun."
And my new-grown spirit,
so fragile and thin,
Bowed down to the logic
of original sin.
I played at his games
while a man stood in chains,
I traded my blood
for his theatrical stains.
For Tom knows the map,
and Tom knows its law,
And Tom sees the merit
in every tiny flaw.
But the heart has a limit;
this soul has a gate,
It can’t be bartered
for a "siv’lised" state.
If the price of our parlour
is Jim in a cage,
Then I’ll smudge out the ink
from its very last page.
The town is a shadow,
their rules are a lie,
A slow-motion choking
beneath our blue sky.
So I’ll head for that sunset,
Its wild, glowing, red—
I’m lighting out
for the topography ahead.
.
Mar 21
Mar 21, 2026 at 5:00 PM UTC
"Words are sacred. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones, in the right order, you can nudge the world a little.” ―
Tom Stoppard
<nml>
*just a little,
a mite of respect,
tad to the right,
a nod to the order,
an Englishman, and a moderne Marano,^
who never knew
which be his truth,
so he wrote
attacking the problem,
pushing from the right, pulling from the left,
searching, researching, exploring, invading,
constructing, deconstructing, reassembling,
crushing longstanding fables,
stumbling on pebbles,
each a splash maker,
a hint, a lead, a linkage,
till he finally found his truth
and took some of the best from both his
lineages,
lastly solving his mystery,
the truth of his identity,
getting his own words in order,
satisfied*,
He departed this
world
Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 10:42 PM UTC
Amplify my cuteness,
Oh! Bidaal Devi,
Like a cat,
Kitten,
Like a cat,
Oh! Feline Devi,
Amplify my cuteness.
I shall adopt some kittens,
Oh! My Cat Goddess,
Maybe a Tom,
Or a Pushy,
Maybe a Tom,
Oh! My Cat Goddess
I shall adopt some kittens.
I shall adore my kittens,
Oh! Feline Goddess,
Bring me a Tom,
Or a Pussycat,
Bring me a Tom,
Oh! Feline Goddess,
I shall adore my kittens.
I wish that cats adopt me too,
For except my parents, I'm alone,
After them, I can't imagine my life,
That's why I shall adopt some kittens,
After them, I can't imagine my life,
For except my parents, I'm alone,
I wish that cats adopt me too.
I offer my heart, Oh! Cat Goddess,
Oh!! Shashthi Maia, hear my plea,
Without your children, I'm alone,
I don't want to end up all alone,
Without your children, I'm alone,
Oh!! Shashthi Maia, hear my plea,
I offer my heart, Oh! Cat Goddess.
Oct 23, 2024
Oct 23, 2024 at 11:16 PM UTC
in Tom Jones rocks on stage.
You rock bestest longest,
at Taj-Mahal peoney cave
I swear I only see you;
my rocking sensually!
lover rock dancing your
fifteen pumps into
our heavenly midsts
and back or make it last
****** fifteen times four
nutty Third Rate Romance
Rock me all night long.
lay I sip your willow tea
oh tea of me make too..
I'm in love with your mind
your syllhuette ink heart
Rock me at Ginny baby inn
I grant your every wish!
Oh sweet lover mine
conceived in sacred
temple paradisical womb
ruler king God's named you.
Crafted above endowed
in gold elastic generous thread,
the measure of your pride,
bestest among all kings,
amongst mortal men.
even Angels envy you.
Women sigh with just one look!
You walk a sway unique
istoic celibate you chase me
I'm sinner in your courts
my veil of chastity falters.
come fill my buttercup.
Loving you mornings long
days long the nights long.
my breakfast in bed you
I long for you.
my Tam Tam my base drum
glued to me evermore.
~~~
By; Karijinbba
@t Mr and Mrs Andrews
Sep 26, 2021
Sep 26, 2021 at 5:47 PM UTC
wish i knew you
way back then
but again then
you wouldn’t have
glanced at me once,
let alone twice
but them ole aphorisms
have their uses,
useful when dreaming
in colorful surrealisms
better later,
than not at all,
my sad eyed lady
of the highlands,
better for having
met you,
than not
at all...
Aug 22, 2020
Aug 22, 2020 at 7:33 AM UTC
the bookies of High Street North will give you odds,
1000 to 1, our paths will never cross, a simple notion,
we’ll never meet, it’s a sucker’s bet they’re happy to take,
despite, shhhhh, not that hard, truth be told, airplane,
Terminal5, Heathrow Express, Paddington Bear Station
and yet, there are oceans to fly over, viruses in
every nook and cranny, and the biggest risk, those
what ifs...and the worries viral multiply as imagining
grows more spectacular than wild flowers on the
heath, bogs conjuring up Holmesian fluorescent hounds
she’ll know for whom this poem tolls, but
will never understand that my envision of her world,
through her eyes, unfamiliar words mellifluous,
for me, they, a nectar, the special Ritz teatime,
but don’t be mistaking me for an Anglophile
no, this Yank plainly loves her garden of nature,
and her own nature, beloved as well, floral blooming,
how it grasps his heart with her two hand’s nouns,
seizing and ceasing its beating, nicks it, his rhythm for
poetic composition, so little more to add, other than
writing this made both a young boy glad, an old man sad...
postscript
someday she’ll crook her finger, like the crook
of her hair, and this Tom, will no longer be waiting
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 7:29 AM UTC
After John Prine:
**“There's flies in the kitchen,
I can hear 'em there buzzing,
And I ain't done nothing since I woke up today”**
Mr. John Prine
<£>
There's flies in the kitchen,
all around my eyes and head,
they’re just gossiping bout me,
why most mornings
I’m still laying in bed
at almost near
noon-time, why too, them
angels and their a-fluttering wings,
a-flapping, still hanging around,
when they’re so far from home
truth be told, I kinda like new combinations,
the musical vibes, magic incantations,
boogie woogie, fuzzy buzzy eyelash sounds,
bluesy background harmonies against the
harps them angel wings are playing,
I’m getting every note writ down so,
I can play it well on the morrow, on my
following them higher up, all the ways up
on that glowing shining stairway to heaven,
guarantee-damn-teeing entrance through the
pearly gates for the flies and a lazy, no-account
worthless S.O.B. like me
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 3:02 PM UTC
<>
reversed a verse from “Like a Rolling Stone;
~complements to Mr. B. Dylan, a Nobel man~
you, me, hear what you’re hearing, feeling it,
you, me, hear what you’re thinking, feeling that,
regenerating, excising, pinching a single word of Bobby’s
lyricizing, knowing, you’ve just handbag-snatched a poem full.
the rolling stone sings of next meal scrounging,
he’s talking to you, knowing you, you customizing
his lyrics modifying-jiggering, for your purposeful brain,
emotional crazed notions, your monsanto seed of needs and strains.
*nah, I’m fibbing, polite-ly lying,
like clover waves springing up
overnight after a night’s soaking,
raining, picking up hints, misdirections, clues,
*** poem titles dripping from my glassy eyes!
des idées for the next poem, the one, in the garden hereafter,
now called thereafter, all arriving in tranches, backyard bunches,
just to write down the titles fast enough, sometimes, trouble,
oft easy, sometimes rough, but always a fast rush jiggling job.*
yeah, I’m liking that word, scrounging,
got character, internal noises aclashing,
so I’m scrounging
while lounging , it’s so ******* easy,
it’s getting borrowed till you! steal
it out from under me,
like an ill reputed
good poet should...
P.S. don’t keep me waiting!
let the scrounging commencin’
tw36
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 4:38 PM UTC
what’s the difference tween ************ & writing poetry?
let us cut to the chase, cause I know how much-you
hate to be kept waiting, lest your addled, added,
impatient attention grow as big as the U.S. budget
deficit.
answer: not much
in fact, can’t come up with a single signal differentiation.
1. both require tissues when done
2. both give you short and sweet satisfaction, that is a renewable resource
3. serotonin levels up, up and away - yay!
4. long term impact for both is wrist pain
5. inevitably, makes you late for tedious life chores
6. doesn’t burn much calories, though you record it on your activity-tracker as “aerobic exercise”
7. one tends to exclaim “Oh **** when completed.
8. both master bait you (pun. get it?) who’s the master, who’s the bait?
9. are you bored already? Go forth and do either activity, (I know you’re getting hot)
10. both leave you satisfied but the urge to purge returns very quickly
11. tendency to lock the bathroom door for both, when “composing”
12. filed on your computer as introspection and mindfulness (that cracks me up)
13. gonna stop right here so you take your ADD meds
14. you love them both in no particular order
15. you cannot get coronavirus from either (sincerely hope not!)
16. your denials deserve a retort: so ***** you too!
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 8:38 AM UTC
#*
My part of the world
Knows not who you are
A talent beyond words
Rhyming life in your lyrics
Effortless you sing your songs
Tom Waits
Why I never heard you before
Now I love your songs
And want to listen to some more
Forevermore
Talk not about me like this
Lady you never heard me before
And now you speak of my songs
As if you been a fan of, all life
Don’t flatter me now
In this world there is misery enough
As I drive down the ghost town
Fearless eyes and lies, I see
Scary for people to cope
So, in my songs I sing of hope
**“Hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, your children alone
Hey little bird, fly away home
Your house is on fire, your children alone”***#
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 8:40 AM UTC
uptown train
a rare sighting, a shiny dime,,
in a city where clothesworn-grime,
an unshed waning gray, a skin coloring,
stony faces always chewing, enduring
in tunnels neath rivers of streets,
there is no moon, so little hope,
nightly somebody’s thinking,
somebody’s baby,
I’ll be, tonight,
someday, maybe
who will see them
as they are,
willI I, will I,
before they’ve gone too far,
roadies, touring to nowhere, disciples,
nose-led by a vision,
daring, but archetypal
there are no gardens,
but plenty secrets,
all planted,
that will never planet bloom,
seeds raised to die,
in watered sorrows drown,
embryos stillborn,
passed to daughters down
the trains go uptown
to shiny places,
to uptown people,
washed, shiny faces,
bedecked with futures,
hope, their jewel,
but not for them,
the downtime people
five pm, afternoon dying
into night bleeding,
the subway noises,
the perfumed stink, all,
goes unnoticed by senses dulled, unfulfilled,
day goes down,
another, and another,
colored pained refrain, why do we bother?
Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 5:13 PM UTC
Athena takes me
sometimes by the hand
and we go levitating
through strange Dreamlands
where Apollo sleeps
in his dark forgetting
and Passion seems
like a wise bloodletting
and all I remember
,upon awaking,
is: to Love sometimes
is like forsaking
one’s Being—to drift
heroically beyond thought,
forsaking the here
for the There and the Not.
*
O, finally to Burn,
gravity beyond escaping!
To plummet is Bliss
when the blisters breaking
rain down red scabs
on the earth’s mudpuddle ...
Feathers and wax
and the watchers huddle ...
Flocculent sheep,
O, and innocent lambs!,
I will rock me to sleep
on the waves’ iambs.
*
To Sleep, that is Bliss
in Love’s recursive Dream,
for the Night has Wings
pallid as moonbeams—
they will flit me to Life;
like a huge-eyed Phoenix
fluttering off
to quarry the Sphinx.
*
Riddlemethis,
riddlemethat,
Rynosseross,
throw out the Welcome Mat.
Quixotic, I seek Love
amid the tarnished
rusted-out steel
when to live is varnish.
To Dream—that’s the thing!
Aye, that Genie I’ll rub,
soak by the candle,
aflame in the tub.
*
Riddlemethis,
riddlemethat,
Rynosseross,
throw out the Welcome Mat.
Somewhither, somewhither
aglitter and strange,
we must moult off all knowledge
or perish caged.
*
I am reconciled to Life
somewhere beyond thought—
I’ll Live in the There,
I’ll Dream of the Naught.
Methinks it no journey;
to tarry’s a waste,
so fatten the oxen;
make a nice baste.
I’m coming, Fool Tom,
we have Somewhere to Go,
though we injure noone,
ourselves wildaglow.
This odd poem invokes and merges with the anonymous medieval poem “Tom O’Bedlam” and W. H. Auden’s modernist poem “Musee des Beaux Arts,” which in turn refers to Pieter Breughel’s painting “The Fall of Icarus.” In the first stanza Icarus levitates with the help of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, through “strange dreamlands” while Apollo, the sun god, lies sleeping at night. In the second stanza, Apollo predictably wakes up and Icarus plummets to earth, or back to mundane reality, as in Breughel’s painting and Auden’s poem. In the third stanza the grounded Icarus can still fly, but only in flights of imagination through dreams of love. In the fourth and fifth stanzas Icarus joins Tom Rynosseross of the Bedlam poem in embracing madness by deserting “knowledge” and its cages (ivory towers, learning, etc.). In the final stanza Icarus, the former high flier, agrees with Tom that it is “no journey” to wherever they’re going together and also agrees with Tom that they will injure no one on the way, no matter how intensely they glow and radiate.
Keywords/Tags: Icarus, Tom O’Bedlam, bedlam, bedlamite, beggar, mad song, Apollo, welkin, Rynosseros, limerick meter, ballad, hag, goblin, maudlin, chains, whips, dame, maid, afraid, dotage, conquest, cupid, owl, marrow, drake, crow, gypsies, Snap, Pedro, comradoes, punk, cutpurse, panther, fancies, commander, spear, horse, wilderness, knight, tourney, world’s end, journey, Phoenix, Sphinx, Genie, Don Quixote, Quixote, quixotic, cage, prison, glitter, strange, molt, knowledge, oxen, baste, Auden, Musee des Beaux Arts, Breughel, Fall of Icarus
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 5:23 AM UTC
T,
I won't be there in life for all the moments where you might need my advice so here are all the words of wisdom you might need.
1. Don't settle for less than you deserve - there are only a certain number of days you have on this Earth, don't waste them with things that make you feel half full.
2. Find the little moments and celebrate them, don't wait for the big things to enjoy life because every sucess, every joyful moment is worth celebrating.
3. Be patient and open your eyes to see God work in your life. Not everything will happen at the speed you want it to but if you calm your mind and heart, the period in-between great changes will be one of reflection and peace rather than unsteady nervousness.
4. Give your heart space to heal and room to grow. You will have many things in life that touch your heart, good and bad. Give them time to make their mark, learn from them and don't forget the lessons.
5. You will walk around this life as a whole person with spaces to fill. Someone will come along and fit right in those spaces, keep your eyes and heart open to recognize them and let them fill you up with love, acceptance, and joy. But don't forget that you are whole without them, too. You do not need someone to 'complete' you because you are whole all on your own.
6. Go out into the world and experience life before it's gone. Love greatly, pray deeply, give endless, and know that you are special and worth more than than all the riches in the world.
7. Remember those who love you that have gone before you and know that we are watching over you, smiling wide at all your success and crying with you on the hard days. We hope you live a full life but also can't wait to see you when we meet again one day in heaven.
Love, Tom
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 12:23 AM UTC
if five minutes where dem
last five minutes of my life
if i died
in five minutes
i would
kiss my kid
hold on to my wife i'd
call my mom
forever
forever
forever
i wouldn't write a bit
i wouldn't eat a bit
i'd have lots of ***** though
i'd trip
i'd get scared
who would not?
placeless
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 10:55 AM UTC
Tom **** and Harry
Met a lovely fairy
She asked - 'How do you do?'
They said – 'Why should we tell you?"
How do we do?
Fairy gave a Smiling look
'There is a nice reason
I can fulfil all your wish'
Tom said – 'We don't do'
God does everything'
Fairy was impressed
Tom became happy
So was ****
Fairy winked and smiled
Harry Got Mad
Harry decided to Marry
Beautiful lovely fairy
He said – 'Fulfil my wish.
Marry me and be my Bride'
Fairy got angry, lost her temper
She threw them all
They all had a great fall
It happened all of a sudden
They found themselves fallen from bed
Now they understood clearly
Whatever they saw was just a dream
Both Tom and ****
Started beating Harry
They Kicked and Punched
Harry was so sad
He was not that bad
He realised, said sorry
He also touched his ears
But when he turned his pillow
Found a pleasant Red Rose
Soon Tom and ****
Turned their pillows
Found nothing at all
Now they turned to Harry
Knelt down and felt sorry
*************
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 9:10 AM UTC
Sports fans love dichotomies
Brady or Montana?
James or Jordan?
The NHL is aware of this
And possesses two generational players
Alexander Ovechkin and Sydney Crosby
Ovechkin plays for the Washington Capitals
And Crosby plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins
One of the most notable team rivalries in sports
So the NHL asks fans to pick a side for marketing purposes
Ovechkin is sold as strength while Crosby is sold as finesse
Which would be a reasonable way to advertise their league
But like every sports league they are dealing with safety concerns
And the NHL is trying to escape the ignorant assumption
That hockey revolves around brutality and is of a primitive nature
So they don’t want to highlight the sports’ physicality
During this delicate and uncertain time
So more often than not Crosby is favored over Ovechkin
Through officiating, commentating, administrating and marketing
Which implicitly sells Crosby over Ovechkin
To the lowest common denominator
Who are interested in those kind of dichotomies
Since the Capitals are the highest profile team
That plays especially physical
The NHL feels the need to treat them with particular austerity
To show they are serious about safety
But this results in massively inconsistent actions by the league
Tom Wilson is one of the Capitals’ best players and their best checker
He was suspended for 20 games for a slightly late hit
He was in proper checking form
Shoulder down and leading, feet planted on the ice
But made incidental contact with Oskar Sundqvist’s head
Giving Sundqvist a concussion so the NHL suspended Wilson
Meanwhile...
Tom Wilson is attacked from behind by Ryan Reaves
On a very ***** hit that had no athletic function or basis in hockey
Launching himself at the back of Wilson’s head on a cheap shot
Giving Wilson a concussion
Reaves was very proud of himself
Selling autographed pictures of an injured Tom Wilson
And the NHL had nothing to say
Tom Wilson received a 20 game suspension
Losing hundreds of thousands of dollars
For an overzealous check
But when he is maliciously attacked with the intent to injure
There is no suspension handed down
A wise man once said
“An injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere”
And I agree
So I can’t stand seeing someone treated with a blatant bias
If it’s on Capitol Hill or in the Capitals’ stadium
And don’t want to live in a world where that’s acceptable
If I could say something to Tom Wilson
I’d say thank you for handling the situation with grace
And not to pay too much attention
To the biased elite or the mindless masses
Because all they try to do is dip you in molasses
They’re not going to protect you on the ice
That’s something you must do on your own
And there’s a lot of people who’ll try to give themselves importance
By eliminating those of higher value
You just have to be able to take their hits
And hit back harder than they ever could
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
It all ends
and i thought I was Summer
when finally I met my Autumn.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 9:35 AM UTC
The opening night,
in front of packed house.
The story, a fight,
between a cat and a mouse.
The cat with her guile and
the mouse, all the while.
Powers up a fuckin' chainsaw
with a knowing wry smile.
So never bet against the mouse
with either money or your house
because the crafty **** takers
have slashed the odds at bookmakers
as to what's in the pies
at the new high street bakers.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC