"borrower" poems
leaning uncomfortably backwards
on the dentist chair
mouth gaping, strange
thick latex fingers
poke borrower weapons inside
and contort my lips into shapes
would it be easier
if we could excavate all the
decay in a body
with a drill and replace it
with a shining pearl-cap?
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 10:11 AM UTC
Portia and Bassanio
Brave Portia's lot was cast
Inside a mocking case of lead,
Morrocco came and passed,
Then Arragorn, arrived and left, forlorn.
A list of louts came, failed, and went
Before Bassanio played his turn...
Poor rich Portia's patience spent,
Nerissa's lady solace yearned
Antonio, Bassanio, a troubled pair
A wily shark a loan arranged,
Whose bite, though small,
Beyond compare aimed deepest
To the matters of the heart.
Antonio, about to lose his fortune,
Bemoaned the losing of a friend,
The foiling of a fortune, sunk.
Shylock, certain of his pound of flesh,
Summarily dismissed by gentile gender-bending,
Played as a fool by a woman posing as a man,
Who drove a lawyer's visage in a Portia.
All ended well, at least for "Christian" men...
Life sweetened by the turning of a Jew,
No matter his conversion at duress...
Straight away Portia and Nerissa turned back
A ******* borrower who had landed on his feet,
And sprang their traps to tame their husbands' heat.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
I am a borrower
collecting things that shine
all stashed in cracks and hidey-holes
where the rafters meet the roof
in the basement floorboards
lift one and you'll see
the treasures I've collected
two gorgeous glassy eyes
seven gilded antique buttons
a bouquet of sweetly fragrant lilies
a gleaming jar of pixie dust
three noble barristers
an Irishman netting butterfly dreams
a sorceress of the endless prairie
windmills like soldiers all in a line
the saddest porcelain doll
a small brown bear
trains screaming by on underground rails
a sprinkling of desert blooms
six jack-in-the-boxes so I'm always surprised
the hairless stuffed dog that bit me as a child
a Rickenbacker bass softly riffing the blues
a farmer's Ovation to accompany my woes
seashells that sing the ocean breeze
a merman from the Northern seas
tucked away in every space
packed within each sweet hollow
these simple pleasures I have borrowed
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 12:27 PM UTC
In the face of war
Loudly our fears drum.
The lioness ready for a feast
I heard Lucifer is angry against God
Battling to get Him to His kneels.
Blood is reigning
The blood sucker awaken
In pieces the sky has fallen
The moon now a commoner
And the sun a drunk wanderer.
Where are the innocence
The black cloud acquires,
Vultures need the flesh of the angels
Their bone the dogs also desire.
The dragon has been unleashed to flood the world,
This time, no one is right enough not to be wrong,
Yes, No saints, No Noah,
No ark to sail to a new world.
Death our creditor, we the borrower
The covenant can't be erased not even a word.
See what we have done to ourselves fighting our creator
See how we successfully drive ourselves to our destructions.
If God finally conquer the Armageddon
In the recreation of a new kingdom
I will want to be the Adam without eve
Dying to see what difference that will make indeed
Because this world is such a complicated trip
The returnees will hate to repeat.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
I am a mild man, you'll agree,
But red my rage is,
When folks who borrow books from me
Turn down their pages.
Or when a chap a book I lend,
And find he's loaned it
Without permission to a friend -
As if he owned it.
But worst of all I hate those crooks
(May hell-fires burn them!)
Who beg the loan of cherished books
And don't return them.
My books are tendrils of myself
No shears can sever . . .
May he who rapes one from its shelf
Be ****** forever.
2.3k
A price that’s in the men shoes
He’s unclaimed and well schooled
Act his rhymes n’ mimic his friend too
Make him understand our sweeter shoo
Blend to been online with his touchy tools
Then play him around n' bring him to us too
Wherein he'll crave more for our added duties
A pleasure to bend n' subdue his struggling pities
And so you try to get me for all the monies n' fame
Hoping that my heart do cringe to the gains and aims
For in most man’s heart lies some greed n' impurities
But that testimony was short-sighted n’ less accurate
Dunamis and poverty - a borrower, the lender's slave
An experience to fail my rapture; a shameful swing
Which my hands cannot say – an immoral beauty
Whom my lips can not welcome; the school
The teacher - the minister
A princess n’ a bling
A frog as a king
He’s handsome
By gender
She's beautiful
in slander
A prince
An offender
A princess
The slanderer
The princess and a king
A soldier n’ a fling - a queen who’s ashamed
The offer that topped the shelf of supreme
That's us, both upside down and unclaimed
A soldier n’ a queen - a coward, a shame
The prince and a fling
A miss
A glamor
A mister
An amour
Unashamed
With clamor
Unmoved
By hammers
A miss in a glamour
A mister in an amour
The minister and a king
The majestic of single shoes
Who's keen to sense a moral beauty
Who sees the world as an interesting chaff
Dominate n' commoners; a sense of duty that
All must claimed from their individual combat
For in most men heart, here lies love n’ cruelty
To flamed the hearts n’ dance to pains n’ strife
So I sought to seize the life of love and Faith
To pursuit a walk of dreams n’ less blemish
Where little is important than odd duties
Like turn me around and teach me you
Teach me to see another man’s shoot
Make me enjoy that creepiness too
Shade my mind and my drink too
Cause I’m unclaimed n’ uncool
A vice that's in a male shoes
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 1:33 PM UTC
I am the first but not the last, be my follower
I am a true friend but not a borrower
I speak the truth when I say I don't use people
It's hard to know who you're in common with, so just I choose people
I choose them because they chose me
They choose me because they like me
They like me because I'm something
It's like it will be a waste of time comparing me to everything
There are different kinds me
Each part of me is a part of he or she
For I am one of all but not everyone
I don't take advantage
But there is a disadvantage
A leader is all I ever wanted to be
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
My people have seasoned the art of begging
They don’t want to beg when begging is necessary
My leaders have compelled our people to beg
Begging that what they have leeway to graft
Begging is couth only when it’s necessary
But not because there is plethorae
Of willing donors who are not even better
Addiction to begging is a political syndrome,
Africa has to stop temerarious begging
Otherwise the burden of debt will erode
Your sons and daughters away
In to the ocean of facelessness
For the slave master owns controls
Only labour of the slave
But in contrast to the borrowing vice
The debt master controls the soul
Of the borrower.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
I am your product,
But not your likeness.
I borrowed from you,
You borrowed me.
There is an evenness to our bargain
As long as it stops now.
You laid the cards and instilled my empathy.
To never say no because I couldn't, you needed me.
To listen to your explanations of family,
But you stopped protecting me.
Always saying it wasn't enough.
That you worked hard,
That you worked long,
That I had no excuses,
Because It's true, I didn't.
I had facts of my reality;
Fact of otherness,
Fact of alone.
Of ostracism,
Of wondering if a crowd would bring me companionship.
Of thinking a man was the only way to happiness,
Because you seemed to think so.
Of cursing your talk of family when you left to find your missing pieces in another's bed.
You needing me to be strong because we were all we had;
Shutting my mouth,
Pressing words back into feelings.
That you used me just like they claimed you'd done to them.
Baring their children, not caring for their say, not asking for more.
But you wanted more from me
You told me often and over.
Leaving me to be the milk-less maid.
The child mother to her mothers children,
Your sweet little children;
The ones I fiercely love,
The ones I fear you'll let break,
Like you have broken me.
My sweet little sisters.
You were my first love,
My first true hate.
The woman who bore me,
The woman who cast me out.
The wisdom in my head,
And the fool before my eyes.
My mother, the bringer, the borrower.
The one person I thought would never betray my trust;
The deserter in my time of need.
You may have borrowed my childhood;
Forever unreturned.
You may have taught me kindness in your selfishness,
You may have been my hero,
I thought you were one...
Someone to aspire to be...
But it's so simple and straight who you are now,
Now that you aren't seen through the rosy cast of my child love.
I play my hand, laying them down
Forthright and coming.
To let you know that I am no longer yours,
No longer yours to borrow.
I am my own,
You can no longer claim me.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
Each day
another person tags along
We say
there's nothing we do wrong
We know
they don't sing their own song
We go
on a journey that's lifelong
Today's society
just follows a crowd
If that's what you wanna be
don't think you'll be proud
How do you expect to win
when you're behind someone else's lead
You might as well put that dream in the bin
you're basically joining the same breed
Take a stand
walk on your own paths
Release yourself from the band
open up your own straths
Make the decision
don't become a borrower
You can see the vision
when you're not a follower
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
In fields where roses fade as finite flowers should
He watches from his mountain; mindfully morose.
Full of sound and fury; sad and surley.
As if made of wood.
He moveth not as a man might move
rather he gather a stretch of wind
and with it work a while, that he may prove.
He is free and clear, he has not sinned.
Yet lost to in trepidation
and filled for five years or more
he is. The child of every nation,
being but a borrower among the poor.
Carry no comforts nor glee
while whistling workers are whimpering;
their pain, an ease to see.
The game is paved with suffering
and always played so thoughtlessly.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
How beautiful the borrower
How happy is her lot
Chains that bind to property
Are left behind to rot
How beautiful the borrower
Whose house is not her own
Who cares not for the daily bread
Except that from the throne
How beautiful the borrower
Who has nothing to give
But shares what she’s been given
By the Lord of all that is
How beautiful the borrower
What peace is in her mind
Without the need for worry
She is ever only kind
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 1:03 AM UTC
When you realize you’ll never seize the day,
Never have the right things to say,
Your judgments are always erroneous,
You’re not Hamlet, but Polonius.
Though you know that all things must end,
It doesn’t spur your torments to mend,
A dutiful advisor,
Who never gets wiser.
It must be so serene
Never having thought you might have been-
“Neither a borrower nor lender be”;
I say, yet fear both apply to me.
“To thine own self be true”;
ah! Long ago, I missed that cue-
And all do agree,
The audience doesn’t need, my soliloquy.
Under all this weight so crushing
And the envy to just feel nothing,
This act’s end, now I’m certain:
I’ll die off stage, behind a curtain.
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 6:03 PM UTC
They, who walk all over others
are always suprised to find themselves toppling
when the treadupon manage to drag themselves out from below them.
If you are among the treadupon,
as we all are, in one sense or another,
seek to assist they who find themselves toppling
despite it all.
We're all in this together.
Tread not upon others, nor allow thyself to be tread upon.
"Neither a borrower nor a lender be."
Seek not
to put thyself ahead of others,
nor to put thyself behind any other,
but, rather, to establish
that every individual and group
resides firmly upon an edge
of consciousness-
of transcendence-
of philosophy-
of experience-
of happiness-
of progress-
of Life.
That is the path we,
as the Human species,
must take if we are to quell the sadistic demon
known only as "Humanity,"
and transmute that energy into something we've long since forgotten-
if indeed we ever knew it at all.
This is a challenge
to cooperate and transcend cultural bias.
This is a call to action,
and that action is an end to intentional war;
political, economic, religious, social, and personal.
This is a plea
for us to seek edification within ourselves and everyone.
Rise to it.
listen to it.
Empathize.
Don't stop until it's done,
and, then:
continue
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
how can a hollow heart
feel so
heavy
rusted bones
in dusty spaces
between ribcages
that's where you
used to be
i don't know
who lives there anymore
the walls are empty
from the borrower
who didn't try
to knock them
down
but
stole all the frames
that hung
in my scars
instead
the pit of my stomach
was engraved
with your name
like a welcome home sign
so won't you
unpack those bags
under your tired eyes
and
stay
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
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Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 11:21 AM UTC
I like solitude
The past walks with me
It lives with me
900 years ago there was nothing here
No hotel
No theme parks
No promenade
Just a beach; nets hanging out to dry
Armored vessel's in the bay
I will never forget the consumption of my body
Tainted
Nor
Cleansed
Love confounded me; it wasn't despair, it was bliss
The face of the mirror had more substance than a wraith
Yet I knew it could not exist; nor could I
For I am infamous
Leaching off of people to dispel my death
I am a time borrower
I am a display
Merely a face of time its self
Mourning for my
Kirchwasser
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 4:48 PM UTC
Twenty hours to develop a skill,
Not become an expert but a will
and a way to make sense and play,
do with finesse, an aptitude that stays,
to build
upon the
hours of
basic ability,
A knack.
Not twenty hours out of twenty four,
Nor ten thousand hours of the master
craftsman, or journeyman too.
Measure each moment, on a stop watch,
hurry not to or from, savour time as your
very own,
not on loan,
neither a
borrower
or a lender
be, of time
dedicated
to your betterment,
better me not,
and bless my soul,
if twenty hours is the time,
one hour a day would be sublime,
success is merely a fortnight away,
if you have the foresight to stay the course!
For Twenty Hours.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 12:32 AM UTC
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Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 3:12 AM UTC
*Countless miles away
my love has strayed
To the vastness of open roads, I've prayed.
Only to find you riding along
Singing all those lovely songs
Throw away my pride
wash it out to sea
The only love in the world I need,
is the love that you've so freely given to me
Now fearing tomorrow,
for our time here is only borrowed
It is not ours to keep
I'm oceans deep
and miles away
I need more time
I wish you could stay
Please don't go
I haven't said all the words
I need to say
Strength;
A lost unforeseen
magical wand
Hiding somewhere
Far and beyond
Time is a precious commodity
Not enough hours in the day
to keep these tears from floating away
I'm oceans deep
and miles away
You've wandered along a hidden path
covered in deep mossy
disappearing tracks
Please come back
won't you stay?
Insufferable time
Just give me one more day...
© 2013 Christina Jackson*
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
grasping hands of debt steal life borrower belongs to the lender while the king sleeps innocently behind shades of smart profit can you spare me a quarter or a miracle for wedding bells never ring on half broke horses taking last chances of glittering exchange despair is assembled waiting with nagging dreams of placebo days
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 1:54 PM UTC
GRANDFATHERS WISDOM
6 July 2012 at 01:24
Two grumpy old men
One named Rolly, one named Den
Two authentic diamonds in the rough
Both made of real tough stuff
Yet neither would harm a single hair on my head
Never was there a truer word said
Both very proud to be a mans man
Both intent on drinking as much alcohol as they can
Both my yard sticks, by which, all males I measure
Both my darling grandads, whose love and advice I shall always treasure
"Keep your powder dry" Oh and Grandad I really DID try!
"Never mix the grape and the grain" these words I recall, as I recover from a killer hangover once again!
"No one likes a liar, nor trusts a thief" -" Its never too late to turn over a new leaf" Phew, now that is a relief!
"Hide your tears and smile, not matter tough this trial"- "always respect your elders, for they are who made us"-" Live and let live", and "always give the best that you have to give"
"Never, to yourself be untrue, no matter what **** you are going through"
"Keep your head held high" - "Be sure to look everyone in the eye"
"Never let those that hurt you, see you cry!"
"Time really will fly!"
"Play no part in idle chit chat or gossip, have enough about yourself to rise above it"
"Work hard, play hard, keep you private business confined to your own back yard"
"Home-made chips always taste better when fried in lard"
"Neither a lender nor a borrower be, unless prompt repayment you can guarantee"
"Love is to be given and returned for free,unconditionally"
These precious, priceless pearls of wisdom were imparted to me
By my two wonderful Grandads,
By two grumpy old men,
One named Rolly, and one named Den.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
the borrower of time
does not return that which he's given
he tosses it in the air
to watch it fly off in the wind
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
*Is there anyway
this day I could borrow
It's been the perfect day
I'd love to use it tomorrow
I'd take its sweet morning crispness
and spread it out evenly
as God and man is my witness
I'd give it again generously
Its breeze I would take
without you even knowing
let it brush gently against your face
so it would feel worth in blowing
I would take the sunshine
give it to the new morning, noon, and night
if I could just borrow this day
and do with it as I like*
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 8:38 AM UTC