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its a blue Monday
after Super Sunday
Americas 45th funday
yesterdays spectacle

the dip is done
the broken bones
of buffalo wings
fill giant glad bags

the ridged ripples
of broken Doritos
scattered on the floor
wait for a vacuums hum

dead soldiers rattle
a melodious cascade
the aroma of flat Bud
plunge into recycle bins

ribbed Trojans
dripping bagged ****
rim plastic trash cans
confirm an ****'s frenzy

the game forgotten
commercial reveries remain
seared into the briney mush
of compliant olfactories

collective hallucinations
successfully branded
a new and improved
global consciousness

Madmen Shamans
ebulliently channel
transactional zeitgeists
from the ripped boxes of
Best Buy plasma screens

Monday morning
water cool scuttlebutt
the planet is buzzing about...

Google's cool slap
of IPod clad automatons
the vanquishers of IBM's evil empire
Apple's brave new world is next
("meet the new boss,
same as the old boss?")

we all dug
rolling with Eminem
through the glitzy
streets of Motown

How cool is 8 Mile?
The hoods lookin good
angelic chorus lifts spirits
Swing Low Sweet Chrysler

The artistic types
faun over
the graphic beauty
illustrious aestheticism

moving story line
the epic journey
of the worlds
greatest brand

heroic product marketing pros
rival Jason and the Argonauts
sojourning trans-formative odysseys
of clever packaging and fat tail shelf life

holding precious real estate
of living imaginations
infecting hearts and minds
of future generations

realizing
everything
ends better
with coke

The State Farm Pre-Game
Jimmy Johnson's new coiff
jawed away with his old boss
rattlesnake booted Jerry Jones

A poignant embrace captured in
living color on grand jumbo trons
lording over a cavernous palace
a new stadium for Homeboys

Jimmy J asks Jerry J
"Why you overpaid
for The Boys New
Crib?"

"A billion 4,
a palace for the masses".
Jerry breaks some news
with an impish wink.
"No expense is spared
for the peeps."

"I always make out,
get a good return. I
make a profit. Ain't
America great."

This year Super Bowl
went Hollywood
and installed
a long red carpet.

Mike Strahan, collared
Harrison Ford.
Bagging his greatest sack
on a dazzling red rug.

"How many Super Bowls
is this for you?"
Strahan whistles
through his gaped teeth.

The aging Indiana Jones
came to promote his new flick,
"Cowboys and Aliens"
(I'm told an early Cannes
favorite. And it should be. Spoiler alert,
the movie is a moving story of an American tragedy.
Romo blows another one
throwing an interception in overtime.
The Aliens return it 95 yards for a touchdown.
Boy's lose again. America's Team vanquished by bubble headed Martians.
All of Texas weeps.)

Indy
coolly quips an answer
whipping with sarcasm,
"after today, one."
yuck yuck
lol

Strahan continues
to stalk Ford like a
scrambling quarterback,
"where will you be sitting?"

Ford shrugs
"dunno,
somewhere
up-there,
I guess",
he points to
the lofty
luxury boxes.
Royalty sits
next to God
in Jerry Jones
house of the
people.

Ford dons a green scarf.
He's down with the Pack.
Another sunshine *****
in the seat.

Michael Douglas and Zeta Jones
arrive in time to hear
Keith Urban sing
"Who Wouldn't Want to be Me?"

"He's alive
He's free
Who wouldn't
want to be me?"

Indeed who?

The parade
of heroes
continue.

The walking,talking
little S Corp, LLC's
dance their way
into the stadium
on resplendent
cushions of red.

Terrific brands
all earnestly
questing to
urgently
deliver
messages
to promote
themselves
and plug
shameful
products.

A Black Eye Peas
teaser
blinks onto
my giant
flat screen.

Will I Am
a black man
in a blacker mask
marches down the street
zapping people
with a ray gun.
(fascist culture is so cool, a
little light on liberation,
but **** does he look bad as all get out
in that leather rumble don't **** with me
outfit)

Jamie Foxx on the royal carpet leaks
that he yodeled three tunes
at a pregame party for Jerry's Kids;
T Boone and the Big W among them.

Quick cut
to Jamie's
new movie
Rio.
(I wonder if its
about Mexicano's
crossing the river?)

Wealth
Power
the perfect
image of ourselves
take a pill

I am Limitless
a new movie?
I've seen this one before.
I think I'm watching it now.

Just Go With It
Adam *******,
Jennifer Aniston
Americas sweetheart
teamed with Americas
kosher jokester.

He looks hot
in his droopy
pretend
don't give a ****
orange sweatshirt
and acid washed jeans.

Jennifer's ****, legs
what can you say
about America's sweetheart?
I think Brad Pitt
made a big mistake.

Bill O
is next.
Posturing,
arm wrestles
with the Prez,
shadow boxes
with the Big O.

"Muslim Brotherhoods
Rendition
Mubarack goes off the reservation
knows where the bodies are buried"
***!
***!

(Do we really need a dose of Fox Fear?
Is there no escape from the pernicious harangue?
Don't they know its Super Bowl Sunday?)

Bill O's drive by continues,
"Obamacare,
why do Americans hate you?"
Great journalism by this Fox ****.

Bill O is
haughty,
arrogant,
disrespectful
a despicable bully
and a self serving blow hard.

(My bladder is busting.
Its a great time to take a ****.)

We escape to
the freshness
of Owen Wilson's
smiling face,
playing two hand touch.

His bent nose
shining
he trots about
Jerry's field
carefree as a child.
(Is this a pitch, pass and punt
contest for A Listers?)

Other stars
join the light fun;
goose cheerleaders
give the cabana boys
hand-jobs
and themselves
a well earned blow-job.

Its an **** of photo ops
product placement
a sizzling collection
of dancing brands
prancing on the gridiron
of the New Cowboy field.

Ashton Kutcher
peeks over the shoulder
of a tweeting W.
I'm impressed
W knew
how to use
his thumbs.

Mrs. W's
permanent smile
was clearly visible
from the stadiums
cheapest seats.

Condie sat
way to the right
quietly stewing
lamenting
lost opportunities
of a gig as NFL
Commissioner.

On the stadiums floor
the frenetic dancing
of the
bumping
brands
fast
approaches
ecstatic elation.

Hollywood's version of
Whirling Dervishes; is
immediately stilled
as the solemn portion
of the program
commences.

The Declaration of Independence
is read by a bright galaxy of stars
accompanying armed service personnel
and other diligent American's.

"We hold these truths
to be self evident"

"United colonies
levee war,
dissolve bounds,
our day of allegiance
lives, fortunes and sacred honor
freedom is common sense,
free, equal, united"

CEO's
imprisoned
in Jerry's
luxury boxes
overcome
with
emotion
pound fists
on the glass
smearing
cocktail sauce
on the windows
of the suites.

Illegal
Chicano's
bravely
step forward
with rolls
of Bravo
and Windex
to wipe
it clean.

The focal point
of festivities
seismically
shifts like a
tectonic plate
almost as large
as Jerry's Stadium.

The stampede
of cheers
thunder like
canon shots,
the patriotic
ramparts of
militant
free market
capitalism
supplants the
shallow frivolity
of consumer slavery.

We are
compelled
to kneel
to celebrate a
Eucharist of
nationalism.

My partner explodes,
"Can't watch a football game
and view it for what it is,
a ******* football game."

The Fox
broadcasters
dedicate
this segment
of the show
to our military.

I squirm in my seat.
Sorry,
but the declaration is about
free people in free societies
not militarism.

Next up
dis old cowboy
Sam Elliot.
He knows
how to speak
the language
of real football fans.
Finally, a man of the people.

Sam introduced the cities.
He starts with Pittsburgh.

"Built on steel
a place where
terrible is good
these are the
enduring qualities
of this great American City."

The Steelers
make a timely entrance
onto the floor of the stadium,
as millionaires erupt
shaking their terrible towels.

Sam's
fuax
folkism
for
Fox Sports
continued.

"Green Bay is Title Town
the people never quit.
Crafty veterans are winners
exhorting all to greatness"

Images
of Lombardi's
toothy grin
fills my 72 inch screen.
A visitation by
America's Saint,
the sanctifier
of all competition
anoints the proceeding,
the quest to claim
the trophy named
for the games
very own
Archangel
of the
Gridiron.

The extended gig of
Lombardi's ghost
has haunted America
for over half a century;
has reportedly been seen
stalking the stage
on Broadway.

The anointed
Packers sprint
onto the field and
millionaire cheese heads
taking big bites out of life
erupt in cheers.

My hi def wide screen
made by Sharp reports
Battle of Los Angeles
opens 3/11/11.
The Chicago Code
premiers on Fox
sometime in March.

Walter Payton
Man of The Year Award
is presented
to an NFL Player
watching the game
with the troops
in Iraq.

The millionaires
don't cheer,
but the Fox announcers
are verklempt
overcome with patriotism.

Michelle Lee,
star
of Fox'***** show
Glee,
poses in front of a
sanitized choir
in blue uniforms to sing
America the Beautiful.

The beautiful song
is but an opening act
for the musical centerpiece
Star Spangled Banner.

The cameras cut
to a smiling W.
He can't get into Switzerland
but ******, he won't be turned out
of JJ's OK Corral.

Christina Aguilera
takes center stage.
She mounts
the silver football
crowning the
Holy Logo of the NFL
to sing the hallowed
Star Spangled Banner.

She fumbles her lines!
She forgot the rockets red glare!
The Steelers are crying.
The Packers are angry.
Ice melts from the stadiums roof.
The foundations of Jerry Jones
new stadium shakes.

A fly over of 4 fighters in formation
appears to be unaffected by the flub.
The planes do not crash.
They stay in formation.

The pilots spare Christina
a strafing and drone strike.
The republic remains
secure for now.

An unfamiliar announcer
addresses TV land.
He offers an apology to the fans
who cannot be seated.

The fire marshals
have revoked
Jerry's seating plan.
Greed got the better
of this man of the people.
Cowboy Stadium
is overbooked!

What is happening?
Is this America?
An ATT commercial
arrives just in time.

ATT has a new plan for America.
They encourage us to live social
with the new ATT AG.
Free market solutions
always work best.

Michael Douglas
reads another
patriotic exhortation.

"United we,
see the journey
of Acme Packers
as our journey."

"We see the resolve
of US Steel
as our resolve.
Big dreams
believe the best
journeys are
celebrated together."
(I'm down with that.
Whats good for Jerry Jones
is still good for me.
Right On! Check this stadium.
Power to the people!
It may not apply to the people who
will not be seated but tough nuggies.
This is America ******. Everybody
can't be seated at the table.
Even if they paid for their seat.
This ain't Red China.)

Neon Dion and other inductees
into the Football Hall of Fame
tosses the coin.
Steelers' call tails.
Heads it is.

At half time
The Black Eyed Peas
descend from
an upper Valhalla.

Still attired in
black fascist threads
The Righteous Peas
start wailing as
white metallic minions
dressed as
Imperial Storm Troopers
gallop to surround
their idols.

Precise formations
goose steppin bops
choreographic steps
the visceral *****
perfect counter-point
to swabbles of wiggling Peas.

Slash,
Guns and Roses
guitar hero
gunslinger
strode on stage
winging
this gal of mine
in choreographed
unison with
the leggy
Fergie.

Pumping it louder
the spectacle incites
the dancing
Imperial minions
quick steppin
and fetchin it
as Usher descends
in white unison
to leap and dance
over nasty
black peas.

The Gods
are descending
upon us.
Their words
have become
flesh.

The BEP's bleat
"kids are dying
wheres the love?"
Art does mirror life.

The neon hearts
of cheap
glow sticks
light up
the time
of our lives.

We are
cubed box heads
happily dancing along
the 50 yard line
answering China's
resounding drum
of frantic proletarians
bashing away
neocolonial disgrace
during the opening
ceremony of the worlds
greatest Olympian
display of
the pounding will
of an emerging nation
arriving on the world stage
with urgent insistence.

In America
we party on
every night
swiping
revoked
credit cards
for express lane
exits at the
local Walmart.

We are proud
highly personal
bar codes!

We refuse to be
marked down and flung
into discount bins at a
Tupelo Dollar Store.

Our light of life
flashes across screens
directing the trading pits
at the Chicago Board of Trade.

Each Super Bowl Sunday
souper bowl beggars
collect canned soup
for hungry Americans
at the local Shop and Drop

begging for larmen
boxes of Kraft
freeze dried noodles
and cans of Progresso
the feast of kings

A triumph
of the
Will I Am
BOOM BOOM
Says
Will I Am

I finish my bag of
Cool Ranch Doritos
and lick my partners
fingers clean.

Music Selection
Steve Miller,
Livin in the USA


2/7/11
Oakland
jbm
(WIP)
Not every word is a masterpiece--
nor every strand
of beach.
alone a cabana-
canopy of sky
surrounding earth:
the atmosphere breeeeeeeeeeeeeeathes
our names into
ocean
and ******
on the ground, as
well.
with dangling-*******
clouds
brimming on the horizon;
what a glorious day!
what a shining moon-shine
standard evening
shining!
wonderment of wonders
shone a seat by flashlight
to the theater alone
alone
alone
the stars are laughing as
we point above
our cabana
and salivate.
without knowing
it
the beach shudders its
******
and we catch *******
with our eyes.
MMXII
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
Watching a classic
Casablanca Class I Fix
Trix cereal for adults
Goddess sundress
The class act you need to guess
Her
fit* no-one would
know vibrant
Getting the OJ of the miracle
Sunbathing at the
     *Pinnacle


His skin news of the
Chronicle
The fix-up finale deeply
in her classic smile
Sunflowers of the sunray  
Tropicana class act deviant play

Quickdraw Gunfire
Her hot tango steps in action
Copacabana
Diamonds no chips
Big tips at the Gentleman
OH! Boy the cabana detention
Class I comes with affection
Kiss is not a kiss without a real scene

In action to miss a classic movie hit
Adventure Trips  flipping homes
In the classified newspaper middle section

She is the Classic with an illuminating passion

I the Classic one and he is
surfing the internet
So fit to be tied but casual love
She the same person wearing her
flip flops
******* off *Root beer float tops

The root of all evil
That She-devil Sire
Not the ordinary campfire

It takes a certain Class, I can fix peoples
problems  like great ***** of fire

We are not signs or perhaps it's in the signs
Emblems
Where you came from no problems
Take action get more satisfaction
Army grenade we are all
fighting in action
Action speaks louder than words
One of a kind the rare find
A classification of her mind
Understand each other
do the hiring
  Trump in action job firing

What drives us and gives us
gratification
We need to love what is above
our minds
I believe sometimes you don't have to be where the action is

The Rainman Rainforest Vacation
You are the I phone off
with the ringer
Classic type Class I
Our computer all rules
codes and passwords
The religious Pope up front
He's the  Marlon Brando waterfront
You have the polka dot bikini

Panera Sandwich Panini
Orange you glad its cantaloupe
He wants to elope
your classic smile
Exclamation point
At Times Square you could
lift her for miles

Whether we look modern
The technology is always out of reach foreign
Or wearing your heart in his heart
Your wiggle walk
The classic style to talk
Fifties **** smoke
Born to be wildlife everything
is on Castaway
Or layaway on hold

And he is athlete runner so hype
Everyone is busy on
Twitter or Skype
The Facebook and photos

Dorothy loves wizardly Oz and Toto
Were all together like
a congregation, not a citation
Living in the city paying rent
Another wicked concert event

How many times did you get that notification?
The auction house in action the bid five times
Those hot leads of crimes
Playing for a nickel heads up dimes
Class act Quarterback
Elephant treasure trunk
ten commandment
Class, I lady leading the way
Class, I fix the parliament

Her classic fifty style army dress in action
Her bullet lips caught quite an attraction

Feeling the comfort food
Mac and Cheese
Silly names those 
 Canadian A&W
ATM Class I
The French fries do or dies
Skinny He's the Ham Mac
You're the spicy Cajun
on the speaker Mic
What classifies everything in
our life
High stunts action cliff taking a dive
**** Bill he kills me all the time

That Buffalo Bill Chicken Mac
Bombastic not the
forever love classic
With a whole list dark Raven
Crystal rock Haven

Everything lately goes so fast
Getting in Saint Anthony fire
She is the livewire
The gunfire or the cease her fire
Out of money  honey bee
******* mansion multiplier
Everything you're
near his or hers
Wineglass stir me
like an amplifier
What happens to your
responsibilities running
racing your own time
The  Coffee man suitor
My Godly dictator
The saltwater taffy-like lava
Comic Disney Pixstar meet Daffy Duck
Or you overqualified being lied too
Oh! Chuck

Like a candle in the wind its in
the science hot steamy
romance engagement
What awaits things to come
getting blown away
It just like any other day
How we classify things or lose things how our mind cannot remember your best words even writing a poem it takes practice more advice action speaks louder than words like the law and order. I think this poem might be your order. Please tell me how it classifies is this a class act to follow get your coffee fix action we will start the movie my poem classic relax
its a blue Monday
after Super Sunday
Americas 45th funday
yesterdays spectacle

the dip is done
the broken bones
of buffalo wings
fill giant glad bags

the ridged ripples
of broken Doritos
scattered on the floor
wait for a vacuums hum

dead soldiers rattle
a melodious cascade
the aroma of flat Bud
plunge into recycle bins

ribbed Trojans
dripping bagged ****
rim plastic trash cans
confirm an ****'s frenzy

the game forgotten
commercial reveries remain
seared into the briney mush
of compliant olfactories

collective hallucinations
successfully branded
a new and improved
global consciousness

Madmen Shamans
ebulliently channel
transactional zeitgeists
from the ripped boxes of
Best Buy plasma screens

Monday morning
water cool scuttlebutt
the planet is buzzing about...

Google's cool slap
of iPod clad automatons
the vanquishers of IBM's evil empire
Apple's brave new world is next
("meet the new boss,
same as the old boss?")

we all dug
rolling with Eminem
through the glitzy
streets of Motown

How cool is 8 Mile?
The hoods lookin good
angelic chorus lifts spirits
Swing Low Sweet Chrysler

The artistic types
faun over
the graphic beauty
illustrious aestheticism

moving story line
the epic journey
of the worlds
greatest brand

heroic product marketing pros
rival Jason and the Argonauts
sojourning trans-formative odysseys
of clever packaging and fat tail shelf life

holding precious real estate
of living imaginations
infecting hearts and minds
of future generations

realizing
everything
ends better
with coke

The State Farm Pre-Game
Jimmy Johnson's new coif
jawed away with his old boss
rattlesnake booted Jerry Jones

A poignant embrace captured in
living color on grand jumbo trons
lording over a cavernous palace
a new stadium for Homeboys

Jimmy J asks Jerry J
"Why you overpaid
for The Boys New
Crib?"

"A billion 4,
a palace for the masses".
Jerry breaks some news
with an impish wink.
"No expense is spared
for the peeps."

"I always make out,
get a good return. I
make a profit. Ain't
America great."

This year Super Bowl
went Hollywood
and installed
a long red carpet.

Mike Strahan, collared
Harrison Ford.
Bagging his greatest sack
on a dazzling red rug.

"How many Super Bowls
is this for you?"
Strahan whistles
through his gaped teeth.

The aging Indiana Jones
came to promote his new flick,
"Cowboys and Aliens"
(I'm told an early Cannes
favorite. And it should be. Spoiler alert,
the movie is a moving story of an American tragedy.
Romo blows another one
throwing an interception in overtime.
The Aliens return it 95 yards for a touchdown.
Boy's lose again. America's Team vanquished by bubble headed Martians.
All of Texas weeps.)

Indy
coolly quips an answer
whipping with sarcasm,
"after today, one."
yuck yuck
lol

Strahan continues
to stalk Ford like a
scrambling quarterback,
"where will you be sitting?"

Ford shrugs
"dunno,
somewhere
up-there,
I guess",
he points to
the lofty
luxury boxes.
Royalty sits
next to God
in Jerry Jones
house of the
people.

Ford dons a green scarf.
He's down with the Pack.
Another sunshine *****
in the seat.

Michael Douglas and Zeta Jones
arrive in time to hear
Keith Urban sing
"Who Wouldn't Want to be Me?"

"He's alive
He's free
Who wouldn't
want to be me?"

Indeed who?

The parade
of heroes
continue.

The walking,talking
little S Corp, LLC's
dance their way
into the stadium
on resplendent
cushions of red.

Terrific brands
all earnestly
questing to
urgently
deliver
messages
to promote
themselves
and plug
shameful
products.

A Black Eye Peas
teaser
blinks onto
my giant
flat screen.

Will I Am
a black man
in a blacker mask
marches down the street
zapping people
with a ray gun.
(fascist culture is so cool, a
little light on liberation,
but **** does he look bad as all get out
in that leather rumble don't **** with me
outfit)

Jamie Foxx on the royal carpet leaks
that he yodeled three tunes
at a pregame party for Jerry's Kids;
T Boone and the Big W among them.

Quick cut
to Jamie's
new movie
Rio.
(I wonder if its
about Mexicano's
crossing the river?)

Wealth
Power
the perfect
image of ourselves
take a pill

I am Limitless
a new movie?
I've seen this one before.
I think I'm watching it now.

Just Go With It
Adam *******,
Jennifer Aniston
Americas sweetheart
teamed with Americas
kosher jokester.

He looks hot
in his droopy
pretend
don't give a ****
orange sweatshirt
and acid washed jeans.

Jennifer's ****, legs
what can you say
about America's sweetheart?
I think Brad Pitt
made a big mistake.

Bill O
is next.
Posturing,
arm wrestles
with the Prez,
shadow boxes
with the Big O.

"Muslim Brotherhoods
Rendition
Mubarack goes off the reservation
knows where the bodies are buried"
***!
***!

(Do we really need a dose of Fox Fear?
Is there no escape from the pernicious harangue?
Don't they know its Super Bowl Sunday?)

Bill O's drive by continues,
"Obamacare,
why do Americans hate you?"
Great journalism by this Fox ****.

Bill O is
haughty,
arrogant,
disrespectful
a despicable bully
and a self serving blow hard.

(My bladder is busting.
Its a great time to take a ****.)

We escape to
the freshness
of Owen Wilson's
smiling face,
playing two hand touch.

His bent nose
shining
he trots about
Jerry's field
carefree as a child.
(Is this a pitch, pass and punt
contest for A Listers?)

Other stars
join the light fun;
goose cheerleaders
give the cabana boys
hand-jobs
and themselves
a well earned blow-job.

Its an **** of photo ops
product placement
a sizzling collection
of dancing brands
prancing on the gridiron
of the New Cowboy field.

Ashton Kutcher
peeks over the shoulder
of a tweeting W.
I'm impressed
W knew
how to use
his thumbs.

Mrs. W's
permanent smile
was clearly visible
from the stadiums
cheapest seats.

Condie sat
way to the right
quietly stewing
lamenting
lost opportunities
of a gig as NFL
Commissioner.

On the stadiums floor
the frenetic dancing
of the
bumping
brands
fast
approaches
ecstatic elation.

Hollywood's version of
Whirling Dervishes; is
immediately stilled
as the solemn portion
of the program
commences.

The Declaration of Independence
is read by a bright galaxy of stars
accompanying armed service personnel
and other diligent American's.

"We hold these truths
to be self evident"

"United colonies
levee war,
dissolve bounds,
our day of allegiance
lives, fortunes and sacred honor
freedom is common sense,
free, equal, united"

CEO's
imprisoned
in Jerry's
luxury boxes
overcome
with
emotion
pound fists
on the glass
smearing
cocktail sauce
on the windows
of the suites.

Illegal
Chicano's
bravely
step forward
with rolls
of Bravo
and Windex
to wipe
it clean.

The focal point
of festivities
seismically
shifts like a
tectonic plate
almost as large
as Jerry's Stadium.

The stampede
of cheers
thunder like
canon shots,
the patriotic
ramparts of
militant
free market
capitalism
supplants the
shallow frivolity
of consumer slavery.

We are
compelled
to kneel
to celebrate a
Eucharist of
nationalism.

My partner explodes,
"Can't watch a football game
and view it for what it is,
a ******* football game."

The Fox
broadcasters
dedicate
this segment
of the show
to our military.

I squirm in my seat.
Sorry,
but the declaration is about
free people in free societies
not militarism.

Next up
dis old cowboy
Sam Elliot.
He knows
how to speak
the language
of real football fans.
Finally, a man of the people.

Sam introduced the cities.
He starts with Pittsburgh.

"Built on steel
a place where
terrible is good
these are the
enduring qualities
of this great American City."

The Steelers
make a timely entrance
onto the floor of the stadium,
as millionaires erupt
shaking their terrible towels.

Sam's
fuax
folkism
for
Fox Sports
continued.

"Green Bay is Title Town
the people never quit.
Crafty veterans are winners
exhorting all to greatness"

Images
of Lombardi's
toothy grin
fills my 72 inch screen.
A visitation by
America's Saint,
the sanctifier
of all competition
anoints the proceeding,
the quest to claim
the trophy named
for the games
very own
Archangel
of the
Gridiron.

The extended gig of
Lombardi's ghost
has haunted America
for over half a century;
has reportedly been seen
stalking the stage
on Broadway.

The anointed
Packers sprint
onto the field and
millionaire cheese heads
taking big bites out of life
erupt in cheers.

My hi def wide screen
made by Sharp reports
Battle of Los Angeles
opens 3/11/11.
The Chicago Code
premiers on Fox
sometime in March.

Walter Payton
Man of The Year Award
is presented
to an NFL Player
watching the game
with the troops
in Iraq.

The millionaires
don't cheer,
but the Fox announcers
are verklempt
overcome with patriotism.

Michelle Lee,
star
of Fox'***** show
Glee,
poses in front of a
sanitized choir
in blue uniforms to sing
America the Beautiful.

The beautiful song
is but an opening act
for the musical centerpiece
Star Spangled Banner.

The cameras cut
to a smiling W.
He can't get into Switzerland
but ******, he won't be turned out
of JJ's OK Corral.

Christina Aguilera
takes center stage.
She mounts
the silver football
crowning the
Holy Logo of the NFL
to sing the hallowed
Star Spangled Banner.

She fumbles her lines!
She forgot the rockets red glare!
The Steelers are crying.
The Packers are angry.
Ice melts from the stadiums roof.
The foundations of Jerry Jones
new stadium shakes.

A fly over of 4 fighters in formation
appears to be unaffected by the flub.
The planes do not crash.
They stay in formation.

The pilots spare Christina
a strafing and drone strike.
The republic remains
secure for now.

An unfamiliar announcer
addresses TV land.
He offers an apology to the fans
who cannot be seated.

The fire marshals
have revoked
Jerry's seating plan.
Greed got the better
of this man of the people.
Cowboy Stadium
is overbooked!

What is happening?
Is this America?
An ATT commercial
arrives just in time.

ATT has a new plan for America.
They encourage us to live social
with the new ATT AG.
Free market solutions
always work best.

Michael Douglas
reads another
patriotic exhortation.

"United we,
see the journey
of Acme Packers
as our journey."

"We see the resolve
of US Steel
as our resolve.
Big dreams
believe the best
journeys are
celebrated together."
(I'm down with that.
Whats good for Jerry Jones
is still good for me.
Right On! Check this stadium.
Power to the people!
It may not apply to the people who
will not be seated but tough nuggies.
This is America ******. Everybody
can't be seated at the table.
Even if they paid for their seat.
This ain't Red China.)

Neon Dion and other inductees
into the Football Hall of Fame
tosses the coin.
Steelers' call tails.
Heads it is.

At half time
The Black Eyed Peas
descend from
an upper Valhalla.

Still attired in
black fascist threads
The Righteous Peas
start wailing as
white metallic minions
dressed as
Imperial Storm Troopers
gallop to surround
their idols.

Precise formations
goose steppin bops
choreographic steps
the visceral *****
perfect counter-point
to swabbles of wiggling Peas.

Slash,
Guns and Roses
guitar hero
gunslinger
strode on stage
winging
this gal of mine
in choreographed
unison with
the leggy
Fergie.

Pumping it louder
the spectacle incites
the dancing
Imperial minions
quick steppin
and fetchin it
as Usher descends
in white unison
to leap and dance
over nasty
black peas.

The Gods
are descending
upon us.
Their words
have become
flesh.

The BEP's bleat
"kids are dying
wheres the love?"
Art does mirror life.

The neon hearts
of cheap
glow sticks
light up
the time
of our lives.

We are
cubed box heads
happily dancing along
the 50 yard line
answering China's
resounding drum
of frantic proletarians
bashing away
neocolonial disgrace
during the opening
ceremony of the worlds
greatest Olympian
display of
the pounding will
of an emerging nation
arriving on the world stage
with urgent insistence.

In America
we party on
every night
swiping
revoked
credit cards
for express lane
exits at the
local Walmart.

We are proud
highly personal
bar codes!

We refuse to be
marked down and flung
into discount bins at a
Tupelo Dollar Store.

Our light of life
flashes across screens
directing the trading pits
at the Chicago Board of Trade.

Each Super Bowl Sunday
souper bowl beggars
collect canned soup
for hungry Americans
at the local Shop and Drop

begging for larmen
boxes of Kraft
freeze dried noodles
and cans of Progresso
the feast of kings

A triumph
of the
Will I Am
BOOM BOOM
Says
Will I Am

I finish my bag of
Cool Ranch Doritos
and lick my partners
fingers clean.

You Tube Music Video:
Black Eyed Peas
Joints and Jam

2/7/11
Oakland
jbm
(WIP)
Hello Sayer Mar 2012
Like a holiday in a person
The ultimate diplomat
Gilded with tweed
Won the Euclid and the Fermat
Child prodigy
And a perfect gentleman
A perfect gentleman

You were Atlantis
when I first met you
I was so terrified
that I couldn't impress you
You were so perfect
So beautiful
You smelled like flowers

Had to know what the smell was
What flower?
Where are you from?
What are you?  Who are you?
A breath of fresh air?
An angel, a fairy?
A devil, a liar?

You packed up your Viper's tongue
Your lyre
Your childish analogies
It seems you have a taste for
skinny pale intellectuals
with unusual but not improbable hair colours
And now you're in Florence

Did I scare you away?
About a lovely person I will probably never see again.
Robin Carretti May 2018
No time for having

withdrawals_
All friendship
click
Lets 
 Click-bank it

Gratitude
so thanks

Just mail it
My mind
chocolate
clustered
Wounded
like a
bullet
_

Postcard
Like
E- Allen Poe
related

Polluted by
Naked Gun
My heart was
fully loaded

"My Psyche"

Glossinidae so
****** "Red"

Women Wartime
she knits

Wildflowers
in her bed
He was more
worried
about the
postcard

Split Banana
personality
Plain Monkey
***
Crazy on Sunday

Sundae's
on Fridays
Yes we have no
bananas
Postcards laid
T-L-C cared for
cabana

But Gina
Loco?
Crazy bridge
Lollobrigida
Postcards
Just
Like Lazy
Susans
Georgiana
Or Brianna
Bella Bella

Leaving notes
with few
good men
Nicholsons
Nicole with
her Kidman

Construction
hard paper
Snip here
Pulled into his
psyche
All cliche's
The fondue
French talk
face to face
Jack snapped
beanstalk

In front, words
fingered
Her words
of roue'
Catch up with
Ketchup
Pretty but Petty
petticoats
"Billy Goats"
Titanic ships
Beguiled
by
him

Cottage home
bacon bits
of
Salad postcards
from
Egypt
The holy land of
Mohammid
Dancing like an
Egyptian

Rumi
of all
Gods
in vain
Your so
vain I betcha
you think
the
postcards
about ya

"Psyche Monday"
Coming to grips
(Girl Friday)
versus
(Man Friday)
with his lips,

The Postcard
postpartum
depression
((What Moves))
on my hips
Strawberry
jam and
my biscuit
"His Girl Scout"
recruit
Being pursued
shortcake
So ironed
longed for

Postcards
floating
through
"Spa dream"

Highlighted
*
Crazy in love
hallucinating
being flirtatious

Oneself
But she doubted
therefore
My psyche
wanted more
(Danger=Hunger)
after you
Darling
Civil war
Loves don't finally
meet someone
They are in each other
all the time-----

Double crossed-Star

Trying to pass the bar

Fair lady or the
distinguished
Gentleman

"Aircraft"
Postcards came with
ownership
Bombs stay funds

So Psyche
The future
Be smart
"Smartphone"
Like a rope and
silvered computer
links
The chain- chain gang

The train blue-skying
Crazy skywriting
A strange device
(UFO) now BOO
requiem in a dream
Royal lips
A plus postcard
Deeply within
The hundred's
of lovers tongue
Going once but twice,
The Postman stamps
psychic
"Auction house
My postcard
Peanuts and
Charmed by Charlie
Brown
The Tarot elephant
pants
Double talk Parrot
Superbowl
the postcard
intellectual

"Hallucination Beware"
Strong accusation to
compare

An app "Activation"
Star Wars  may the force
be with you one and
only card
British fine tea guards

The love red tip
matches
The new
postcard
the
new black
Mary Mack
Stamped and
smacked
Smashbox eyes
like crazy lunatic

(Dora Explorer)
New Orleans
Nasty stickers
Richness of bourbon
Sweet Caroline
Graphic art turban
8 sides
of the moon

Such
consequences?

My hair
ponytailed
You mailed
words short
Styled pixieish

Dots.....crazy points

Oh! Gosh
The
Hoarder
of
postcards
Crazy Gorilla
Mozilla
"Queen of Sheba"
I rather walk my
Shiba Inu doggy

Miss baby jane shoes
French connection my
La Femme
Oh La La
Haha
Funnybone
I refuse to be
loved like
a postcard
Self-assurance
love is frozen
and stamina
Postcards back
in the future

((Wonder all drama))
Psyche ward she got
hammered
Stacks of postcard
Her wrist got cut
Cold cuts
Irish Spring soap
VIP Postcards RIP
Replacing her hip
Her crazy lips kissed
the postcard
her bodyguard
Those maneaters
and deadly hitters
Mega babes babysitters
To be so loved and read

Postcards speak to us
listen
Glisten
Crazy Bitch__ is in
The innie or outy
Paper towels Minny
Mouse
She cleans up
her postcards
When the postman rings
twice

Pass it on

Has it troubled you
papercut you
Was this postcard
meeting
your  card
expectation

All you?
Postcards are so nice when they get delivered but when they come to your mailbox that's another postcard. The postman becomes crazy twice so out of wack Psyched
The Good Pussy Aug 2015
.
                                       c
                              a     a b      a
                            b       a n        b
                           a          a            a
                          n        c     a         n
                          a        b      a         a
                          c         n     a          c
                           a        c     a          a
                            b        b   a         b
                             a          n           a
                              n                     n
                                         a
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2010
Cabana, cheese and mustard sauce
Do grace the tablecloth,
White puffy clouds and warm south breeze
And joy in chilled beer's froth.
Hot sun doth bake these stony walls
Sweet mandolins do play,
And the pigeons peck at breadcrumbs caste.
And all fares well today.

Young darting men on Vespa's
Ply their arrogant good looks,
And those stunning senoritas
Strut their stuff while momma cooks.
Monsignors in scarlet robes
Do scurry through the town
Dispensing Catholic action
To any soul who is around.

Madonna's guard the roadside shrines
Where hot seal winds aloft
Toward the craggy mountain pass
And pastured alpine croft.
The peasant woman bends her spine
Trudging forth with strain,
Wood ******* piled upon her back,
Up hillward bound with pain.

Old men sit and ruminate
And watch the young girls pass,
Whilst nursing dark retsina
In an opaque thimble glass.
The olive trees look stately
In their crooked ancient way,
And cast a darkened shadow
Where the roosting chicken's lay.

And out across the mounded hills
The patchwork quilt of farm
And out beyond that deep azure
Of Italian coastal charm.
Seaward to horizon
The aqua blue intense
Extends as far as eye can see
Mediterranean immense.


Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
23 January 2010
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
Silence is a matter of body
Coming towards your language
He's in the lounge on his
(I Pad) looking frightfully cleaver
Slice cake mad
Not the happiest lad
she's wearing her fit to
be tied but feeling upside
down but lifted firmly up
in her falsies cup
 ((Hush  get your rush in silence))

But she failed to make him
these incredible ***** dozen
baking brownies
What a rookie cookie girl
Cannot keep secrets to be silent
But her deadly **** pout
     (( Card-Flush-in silence))
She screams get out!!
The Bill **** she's the
killer eyelashes hot flash
She was quite challenging 
That silvery dainty moon lady
hurrying
She's all capped-plated her knife
crazy eyes
 He's channeling her
Quietly with her bedroom eyes

   ((Rush-Silent-night))

Putting up a fight that's life you win

((The silent love))
Or start over your sin is
the silent killer
The silencer staying put
didn't explode
Her fifties smoking was
her weaknesses
Oh! boy, he had the right high tech glasses

What Belguim chocolate but her
Latte caramel she was quietly
running late more time with her
perishables love doves
(Such patients hospitality above)

What a braggart in her brassiere
She got his attention to look
over here
Over their all in the family
Like an Army military fit, Starwar
skirts super tight something didn't
feel right
They couldn't breathe and
someone asked  her to sit
silently
So uptight down handed
Well guarded she the lady with
wits and guts scorpion landed
Oh! what a killer fights the dust mites

That silent killer lady was not
someone you could trust websites
What a fund money signs on her
forehead but tough elephant's skin
She needed a new hobby silent flirting
Her wrinkled cute puppy dog
What hogwash wearing your
Frownies all wrinkles they say
sometimes owners resemble their
dogs this the Hollywood hot dog
Out of state doggone it townies
obsessions something to die for

(Recent prayer of silence)

Forgive me darling I need to wear my
Frownies I am not going to be around
those loony tunes I needed to make
my getaway faraway really soon
He was wearing his yellow polka
dot bow tie every month of June

Smarties alcoholic anonymous

Malibu Lolobolu Honolulu
I love Lucy she wearing a tutu

All sizes and silent mouths
Things get louder when you're older
Loco in the Cabeza hot blooded
Little red Robin hood so silent
She is looking like a good pair
The silence is killing you  
I wouldn't get one taste out of
Moms French roue'
My Eden garden
Met -us
Something will **** us

The fresh green's healer
The mood set-us
The goods got us

Whats the in-betweens
No-one will ever notice
what's not green
(Like the blindsided lover)

My courage thumb needed
to break the shades of silence,
 To trust the secret promoting
her shampoo anonymous
Overly powerful her weapon
Dennis the menace
Loud as the hippopotamus

Mixed Thomas Islands
the bottom dirt
He was dressed in tweed
What a **** killer bloom
Wearing his stark white shirt
Madmen needed more room
We need the funhouse Amen

Heres looking at you
Stranger/Lover/
Kid/Mother
Your brother of prodigy
The silent scheme chemist
He acts like a psychiatrist
(I am talking he is so silent)

  Like a franchise lemonade
Put your foot down and stand
Her hair mousy brown
the sounds of silence

The fuller up spouse
Met his match fuller brush man
These herbicides hitching a ride

To be silent? This is not the
beauty patent
The mineral-sea-shore comes to the
dead sea
Giant green mutant/Medieval funhouse
Silent track betting racing horse
He's my General-tea-shirt

What are you after- the traveler
Or the loner meeting another drifter
Having tea plea party guilty green-tea-
Monk- by the sea mountain
What we kept Barbie dolls
Looking in the mirror in silence
Seeing the Fountain of youth
Beatle bopping heads
Ketchup packets spicy I pods

Eventually, Gods come to our front door
That chemical stinks cleaning our floor
The smokers teeth yellow the gray
shark Jaw's He Haw
Chinny chin Mr. Jawbreaker
The kitchen should be our
the safest haven, little rascals
Met the ***** scoundrels
Silent killer lady is so driven
Chemicals and health risks
Red silent Rooster
A silent chat his killer smile
Over my dark coffee
Mr. Beanster
Why was I put in this spot
Empty space looks shot

Your egg biscuits
Trilogy game of Triscuits
Wearing a bandana
***** dancing at the
Copacabana

Organic eggs no bacon
With the cabana boy
Hey sardine pork and
My killer beans, O-D and
more coffee!!!
Something renewable
Even if you're a twin double

Phoenix bird beauty of her flight
The silent killer lady didn't
get a decent sleep even one night

Not fancy leafs plain and simple
My smile high cheeks dimple
My Brooklyn tree smiling at
my Mom and Dad that's my
Brooklyn roots
Silent can have so many variations with good reasons and also it can be closer than you think to **** us lets act civilized and live healthier make those choices I did. This world has so many things to offer just go with the punches  I won't knock you out
Anais Vionet Jun 2021
It was suggested that we wear something comfortable (especially shoes) and that we bring a cover. I wore a black one-shoulder bow-tied satin mini dress and G Ballet Flats and I was able to fold a sheer shirt into my tiny purse (for a later cover).

The stretch limo pulled into our driveway.
“Is it prom night already?” my brother Brice snarked.
“Be careful,” my mom said sternly, pulling my short dress down a bit. “you have your phone?”
I rolled my eyes, produced my phone and she made sure “Find my” was working.
“You’re staying at Bili’s (my BFF), ya?”, she confirmed. “You three stick TOGETHER.”, she adds.
“Yes mam.” we answer, with nods all around.

As Bili, Kim (my 2 BFFs) and I excitedly settled in, the boat-like car moved smoothly off into the night. There were ten of us - five guys and five girls - but no set “dates”.

Everett (nick-named “Ev”), all business at the moment, made sure he had all of our cell phone numbers - which he sent back to us as a custom contact list called “Dance Monkeys”, HA! Then he pushed a button or two, the interior lights dimmed, background music filled the air, a partition lowered and a bar appeared. The club, in Atlanta, was an hour away.

The cover charge for the Havana club VIP lounge is $500 a person (but you get a “free” drink). Everett waved, said, “Eddie!” and two Dwayne Johnson clones parted like a bank vault door. We passed through an airlock-like foyer where “Ev’s” polite apple-pay tap allowed the ten of us to enter the industrial looking, VIP lounge area.

A pretty girl dressed in black leather named Holly was our “steward” for the night - Everett, our guide to pleasure, passed her our cell number list. A second later we all received the message, “Hi!, I’m Holly - text me if you need anything.”

We passed through one last set of black glass doors and I practically flinched as the night exploded into shards of light, ear grinding bass riffs and pure, laser-lit decadence. “Holy crap,” I said - I couldn’t hear myself so I knew no one else could either - my arms prickled - it felt like the room was 45 degrees.

We were led through an ocean of writhing people below a live, aerial, Cirque du Solei like ballet display. Video played on every inch of wall space - the song “Get out of my head” played like a jet engine - the video was skin on every surface - the effect was stunning and somewhat disorienting.

Eventually, we came to a private “cabana” where we settled in.
Someone pulled my arm and I was out on the dance floor. ****, THIS is what I’d been missing - FUN.

Every few songs I was able to get back to the table and gulp whatever drink was at my seat but then someone pulled my arm and again, I was out on the dance floor. The club seemed to morph with every video - the crowd roared each time a favorite cut, like “Wasted love” began.

I was offered, more than once, a triangular pill with an “X” on it - we (Bili, Kim and I) were pretty sure it was ecstasy. We passed on it. However, it seemed a tray of shooters arrived at our cabana every 5 minutes.

There were half-assed horderves, but I hadn’t really eaten and after about 90 minutes of shooters and dancing I was starting to spin. Then, like magic or an unconscious prayer, the field of dancers parted for - a pizza delivery!!

Ok, now, in my animal-like hunger, I’m thinking maybe Everett is a genius. People at other  cabanas point and eye us with naked envy. No one else thought of this. I greedily, unladylikely help myself to a life-saving slice of cheesy heaven and groan with pleasure at each new bite.

I’m greedy for more than pizza.
FINALLY... THIS summer is shaping up nicely.
P.S. Everett had to "apply" for access by submitting a form saying we were all vaccinated (and we are).
Del Maximo Feb 2013
not a morning person
she’s content to hide in leafy shadows
wildly overgrown purple and green vines
surround and ensnare her
beneath a canopy of pink antique tea roses

she stands inside a maple platform
designed and handcrafted with care
three asymmetrically positioned 2 by 4 risers raise her
about a foot off the ground
two golden plaster cherubs hover above her on either side
fine grayish wood grain, like carpenter’s fingerprints
peek out through faded cerulean backboards
a painted backdrop made translucent by exposure
fresh cut miniature roses in miniature vases
brighten the stage like foot lights
behind the platform, at the back of the cave
clumps of ferns intermittently reveal
mud swirls splashed on a mint colored wall
up front, a row of marigolds and strawberry plants
embank a retaining wall border
of cabana-like sculpted brick
glistening white quartz stream before her
like a river of rocks at her feet
completing the grotto

she comes alive as the afternoon sun
brings out the color in her cheeks
she steps out from the shadows
and stretches her arms out close by her sides
palms facing outward
fingers pointing down
as if something were emanating from her hands
while she blesses us with peaceful contemplation
© February 7, 2013
(Her name was Geraldine Cohen.
She lived in Miami Beach.
I was 21. She was 35.
I will always love her.)*

Yellow fizzies in the lime cabana,
Bronze banana at five-fifteen,
Downing dizzies in a timely manner,
Getting foxy with you, Geraldine.
Far from where I have ever been we lay beneath a coconut tree.  
The sun was mild as you lathered me in protection.
I smiled when you reached the arch of my back and slide under the bikini.
You have such large and capable hands
I felt my stress leave my body as the waves crash to shore in front of us.
In the distance an 80s classic played out of spaced speakers atop poles where wicker lights were strung.
We weren’t alone but the world fell away the moment your lips touched my shoulder.
You then gently slide my copper waves to one side to press them to the nape of my neck.
You know all my spots. You know exactly how to ignite me. How to bring me to life.
I crave your lips on mine and so I roll over to look up at you. Your hair is piled high and secured with a clip. Your amber eyes hold mischief as your long fingers dance down my exposed stomach to the bottoms of my suit.
I say your name to protest even as I arch toward your exploring fingers and invite them in.
I capture your mouth to silence my moans.
You smell like the sea we had played in most the day.
Your lips are still sticky sweet from the coconut we shared.
As the waves swelled so did I and like them soon came crashing only to drift back out again.
I watch you watching me as I try not to moan. My mouth gapping.
Our cabana attendant could check on us any moment…
You often look surprised. So utterly in awe of how I respond to your touch.
“Could this day get any more perfect?”
I did not answer.
I was still swimming.
Bimini
Brian Jun 2013
As the deposit in my shoulder begins loosening, visions of a paradisiacal oasis reveal themselves. I can almost hear the pina coladas being poured atop the pool bar’s island countertop. Cabana chairs, shaped like beds, perfectly host kissing parties within the nighttime’s ocean breeze. There are businessmen purchasing cigars outside of taxi stops and ******* within the depths of knick knack shops. Everybody’s stocking up for tonight’s white wrist band karaoke bash on the top floor of each and every all inclusive resort and nobody’s holding back any expenses.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Dreams, visions, hopes.” replies the Preceptor.
Justin Michael May 2013
If I wanted to live in España

I’d buy a quaint little cabana

I’d visit for summer

Make love to my lover

Quién se llama Susanna
Feel Nov 2014
Think about this - a holiday that needs no funky dresses.
A holiday so creative, there is no need for red lipsticks, no need for nail clippers, no need for pungent scent of over-powering colognes.
A holiday so relaxing, a massage is as unimportant as a torch light near the sun.
All we need is just you; and perhaps the ever so annoying presence of me.
All we need is a bountiful of sundresses that you own, and perhaps my flowery sense of humor that matches the colors of the purple lilac prints of your sundress.
I could buy you a hat, but only if you promise me that it will only hide you from the sun, and not you from my eyes.
It could be big so you don't need sunscreen; and big enough to stop you from cringing when the sun hits your eyes but small enough that you still require some Banana Boat applied on your skin.
I'll bring the Banana Boat that has your favorite scent and I will put them on my hands; white cream will round my palm as I merge both hands together to a rub and apply the heat on your back. I will do it with so much passion because I want to ensure that only I can have your body and only I can touch your skin and that the beam of those evil UV lights will have none of you to them.
I want to feel the presence of you next to me, in our cabana, hidden away from the noises of the city, from the trinkets of the toy stores, from the audible annoyances of office politics.
I want to hear you play your favorite Azalea tunes on your iPod and secretly loving it as the song burst out of your earphones – teasing me, tempting me, seducing me with your bouncing head.
I want to hold on to my Mai Tai, cold as always, as the droplets of the cold water from melted ice succumbs to the heat my palms are dismissing.
And I want to have that Mai Tai with you, with two straws, with a pineapple decoration on the brink of the glass; and maybe…just maybe…if you're playful, a little umbrella that is in your favorite color.
Perhaps then we can hear the sound of crashing waves as our bodies crashes with the nuances of knowing that we are good for each other, but never at the same time as each other.
We can then, together, in silence, delve in the truth, the evolution, that we crave for the attention of the other, but we have the unfortunate excuse to not believe in that craving.
As we sip on the Mai Tai, we see the sun set, and the horizon is as beautiful and as composed and as straight as the bangs of your hair.
We refuse to leave that beach. And we refuse in our hearts because no words filled the empty silence but sounds of crickets and the ***** of wings of the swallows that flew by us - back to their homes, back to their nests, back to their hearts.
We know one of us will have to break that silence and it is so quiet that a drop of a 20 cent coin can jolt us, make our hearts beat faster with the expectations that we have of what's to come next.
"Let's go", you said.
And I mustered up my muscles, aching for one last stretch of my forearm to pull yours closer to mine.
But I could not.
Because you have walked away, walked ahead and far from me.
You have passed the stream of sea water that we could have left our footprints on, together, side by side.
I took that as a painful hint.
"Perhaps tonight is not the night. Perhaps we are not what we are.", I thought.
I finished up our drink like how I would finish writing our unending story.
I sipped the warm Mai Tai of depression, sadness, disappointment and anger as it travels through my bloodstream.
This alcohol – it filled my empty heart with the depressed, sad, disappointed and angry poison.
I was certainly not in the mood.
I packed my towels, wrapped it around my secure body and around my insecure soul.
As I walk behind you, following your imprints of footsteps left on the sand, I lit a cigarette. I put on my earphones, blasted the Azalea song that you love so much as I envision what could have been our most memorable night.
CK Baker Mar 2017
Pile clouds push the north ridge
liquid blue lines at dead man’s point
cane garden pool for industrious folk
verdant green tuck from the upper deck

Waterfalls heavy and head winds calm
sea deep clear at the pit cove
pusser *** pints (for the pain ****!)
eateries pop and glow in port

Oleander clips and elephant ears
scuppernong grape from the jester
tannia stock on dipping day
calypso calls from an improvised spot

Hammocks hung at coral beach
funjie band in bamboshay time
ficus, gallows and *** runners
flying fish on the catamaran row

Metallic crab and swordfish
soggy holes for the sage and musk
sinkers, skiffs and rollers
white squalls gust on the north bay

Skeleton art at charlie t's
powder white and breezy
shells and driftwood for the artisan heart
geckos short of the cabana

Butterflies float on violet caps
fingers cross the hummingbird bath
anglers steady under canopy layer
lighthouse sails are bending
BLitZeD Feb 2016
As I wonder, I conjure a monster with this wand and my honor.
I ponder how you can squander my genre, I'm lava.
Anacondas to lamas, venomous, I'm black mambas.
Garfield comma lasagna, that's pasta.
Comets comment on the trauma after I bombed ya.  
***** iguana after the ***** in the Bahamas.
In the cabana like Osama, hide and seek, trying to avoid the drama.
but my Pride hunts and peaks when I speak,
A void, this is the 3Y3 of the BLitZ3D SAGA.
Blunts of kief while I reap, hydroponic droid.
Quick like Raffekie but I lead like Mufassa.
I'm Scar to hyenas, and yes I am Luke's Father.
Hiatus, I'm too high, I am a Sky Walker.
Hydra made, I claim Dark Mage
Use 3's when I write, and spell magic with a K.
Your gana need to come harder.
This is Tree times 3 vs Special K.
Said **** it and versed myself 3 ways that one day.
It was MagiKal, see the intentional K?
Savage truth, My pills red.
Down the rabbit hole, I'm here to stay.
Reach out an ravage your ankle.
Pull you in, M.I.B. I'm Agent-K.
Mage In Black, Dark Arts,
Matrix word play, not an absurd grey.
Prometheus, I am Predator,
A.I., I-Robot, I Am Legend,
Will Smith, Independence Day.
Annunaki I am a descendant.
The First Demi they selected,
Earths representative that slays.
An entity,
When they spoke of god, what they meant was me.
The incarnation of uncertainty.
Hell bent on carnage, feeds on false beliefs.
"The Scripture", "Birthed from the streets."
A reputation you cant tarnish.
I don't expect relief.
Mercy is for the week.
I'll die standing before I ever drop to a knee.
The first to leap.
I AM BLitZ3D.
THIS IS TH3 3Y3'S OF TH3 L3GACY THAT IS M3.
"E.T"
"A Lion, A Demon, A Creature Of Myth, An Alien Being"
Plasma is on the page but ET's not bleeding.
Thats just my pen leaking, Kracken ink can be misleading.
Submerged marines, Titanic icebergs, Atlantis reemerge on my command , sorcerer supreme, Gigantic knights Converge,
Looped in a green screen dream sequence scene theme,
"The Sheep Will Always Scream"
Eye of the storm, I am Dopamine
I am dope, I mean. Am I not dope man?
I am the dope man to the feigns
(To Be Continued...)
http://www.writerscafe.org/blitzed
BLitZeD Feb 2016
As I wonder, I conjure a monster with this wand and my honor.
I ponder how you can squander my genre, I'm lava.
Anacondas to lamas, venomous, I'm black mambas.
Garfield comma lasagna, that's pasta.
Comets comment on the trauma after I bombed ya.  
***** iguana after the ***** in the Bahamas.
In the cabana like Osama, hide and seek, trying to avoid the drama.
but my Pride hunts and peaks when I speak,
A void, this is the 3Y3 of the BLitZ3D SAGA.
Blunts of kief while I reap, hydroponic droid.
Quick like Raffekie but I lead like Mufassa.
I'm Scar to hyenas, and yes I am Luke's Father.
Hiatus, I'm too high, I am a Sky Walker.
Hydra made, I claim Dark Mage
Use 3's when I write, and spell magic with a K.
Your gana need to come harder.
This is Tree times 3 vs Special K.
Said **** it and versed myself 3 ways that one day.
It was MagiKal, see the intentional K?
Savage truth, My pills red.
Down the rabbit hole, I'm here to stay.
Reach out an ravage your ankle.
Pull you in, M.I.B. I'm Agent-K.
Mage In Black, Dark Arts,
Matrix word play, not an absurd grey.
Prometheus, I am Predator,
A.I., I-Robot, I Am Legend,
Will Smith, Independence Day.
Annunaki I am a descendant.
The First Demi they selected,
Earths representative that slays.
An entity,
When they spoke of god, what they meant was me.
The incarnation of uncertainty.
Hell bent on carnage, feeds on false beliefs.
"The Scripture", "Birthed from the streets."
A reputation you cant tarnish.
I don't expect relief.
Mercy is for the weak.
I'll die standing before I ever drop to a knee.
The first to leap.
I AM BLitZ3D.
THIS IS TH3 3Y3'S OF TH3 L3GACY THAT IS M3.
"E.T"
"A Lion, A Demon, A Creature Of Myth, An Alien Being"
Plasma is on the page but ET's not bleeding.
Thats just my pen leaking, Kracken ink can be misleading.
Submerged marines, Titanic icebergs, Atlantis reemerge on my command , sorcerer supreme, Gigantic knights Converge,
Looped in a green screen dream sequence scene theme,
"The Sheep Will Always Scream"
Eye of the storm, I am Dopamine
I am dope, I mean. Am I not dope man?
I am the dope man to the feigns
(To Be Continued...)
- See more at: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/blitzed/1722009/#sthash.zRxiJxNK.dpuf
Stephan May 2016
.

Beyond the border of withering dreams,
blue skies and ribbons played as
poolside wishes slept in the cabana

Winter followed the guards
while north of here braced for another
stranger to walk through the gate

Beauty sat on the rim waiting for
dark features of sun tanned wisdom
to sing sonnets of warmer climates

But the intense glare of a protective sun
blinded her ability to see as her pina colada
melted and ice formed in her eyes

Nothing left now but a shadow walking
beneath the umbrella shading her fading smile
as summer came and went without even a wink
Rui Serra Feb 2014
Juntos navegamos
para o objectivo final.
desvio
monto o meu corcel
cavalguei milhas
paragem
segui viagem
retorno às origens

De novo na minha cabana
aí fora
guerras sem sangue
travam-se entre os aristocratas

Usurpação dos poderes
procura constante

Idiotas
um deserto já sem cor
ao fundo
uma vida

Migalha de vida

Um jardim
flores

Músicos tocam flauta

Cai o pano
apagam as luzes

Acabou a peça
acabou tudo

Até a vida

É O FIM.
Butch Decatoria Oct 2016
Poppers and pour homme

Video head crisp

And clean

Thirty three...

Boy's first whiff and whippets

In balloons

Inhale until it's banana peel

Flaccid...

Laughable word

Whole situation absurd.

...

Now that I'm cut

Body bait

In a glass house

Of men

Stuffed like a clown car

Their fat lip smiles

Artificial

Canine rictus

Taking whiffs for blood

In the humid beach air...

It smells like a boy's

First play date

First of everything

Daddy fox hole slings

Party N Play

With favors and favors old men

But I was thirty three

But I was the bait...

It smells like Dolce

And Gabana


Cabana boys and

Poppers.


*(It smells like lost spirit)
Rui Serra Mar 2014
Permaneço hoje aqui
nesta promíscua cabana
onde tu e eu nascemos
Existe um objectivo
meta final, fim
O FIM
Praia ofuscante
noite
alimentação sistemática
do desregramento de todos os sentidos
Modificadores de consciência
levam-te pela estrada de coral
até ao palácio da sabedoria
Aí vive O Rei
Homenzinhos de fatinho escarlate
acampam
nos teus jardins privativos
em frente à tua mansão
Sais porta fora, pelos fundos
Criados vestidos de madrepérola
fazem-te vénias ao passar
Um sonho, acordas, é dia.
Rui Serra May 2014
Passa-se num quarto
luz ténue
velhos livros empoeirados
o cigarro queima-me a ponta dos dedos
nos meus ouvidos, um leve melodia
um telefone toca
saio
andei por aí
a prostituta olhou-me
tremo de frio
uma cabana
recordo o passado, ainda presente
passei por tua casa para te ver
tinhas saído
ocultas-te dos convidados
mas eu sou teu amigo
os meus olhos
perturbam-te
infinitamente!
as melhores ideias vêm-me quando...
enfim
vou partir
pousei o livro
estou vivo
procuro a paz
esse momento de liberdade
está a ficar tarde
a noite começa
lentamente e cheia de sossego.
Rui Serra May 2014
AGORA
no meu refúgio tranquilo
sou um homem solitário
AGORA
o meu sonho desapareceu
mas, permaneço iludido
AGORA
nesta velha cabana
alimento a ideia de...
AGORA
permaneço aqui
tão só quanto a lua
AGORA
sob a areia da triste praia
olho o mar
AGORA
já sem esperança
só me resta morrer
AGORA
meu amigo
é O FIM.
Bruce Sep 2016
We all learned to make mistakes
But simultaneously hide from them
Block out learning opportunities with pride
Because we've idolized perfection
The plan was to grow
But instead we've engorged ourselves with
False bravado
I blame it on the pain
I mean how else do we cope
With so many hands on our throats
I CANT BREATHE
So introverted
to much energy drains me
How could you blame me
In a time where everything is so fast pace
Rapid
I had to wrap it at 14
Senior thought it was cute to ride me
I mean rob me of childish glow
I swear i didn't know how to say no
She said "This what I called u for
Don't make noise my father won't be to fond of you.
Just let it happen"
Toxic Masculinity told me I was the man
Couldn't understand my feelings until now
I'll never get it back
She took advantage
Probably why I desire control so much
We learn from our mistakes if we don't lock them away
But that little box in my mind been shaking for some time
Like it's something whil'in in it
Tasmanian memories
Tornados in my psyche
Don't give up
Cause there was a time when suicide
Would excite me
Thank God we couldnt afford prescription
I gotta learn from everything
Even ignorant experience
Like the time I said "******* ain't **** and I don't like black women" please forgive me I was going through some internalized ****
I work on loving myself everyday
Cause internalized hate will breed a monster
I called the suicide hotline twice last week
I swear I'm doing better I just needed to talk and I knew they would actually listen when I speak.

I had to write because the world told me I was too emotional
Wasn't strong enough
Close friends call me soft because I like to See the good in stuff
If we just let people be themselves, would that be to much?
We all makes mistakes
Why are we so scared to learn?
Pain is a shame
but
a reward you earn
My mental high way is always croweded from all the bridges I burned
I was just Tryna learn to stand on my own
Build my own thrown I didn't know telling people I didn't need them
Would make them throw shade at your shine
Rain on you cabana
I knew from how lonely our Christmas tree
Was
It wasn't no Santa....


My parents try to teach me to learn from their mistakes
But vicarious learning was never great
My hard head is what most hate
Listen if I could tell you anything in my short time on this earth
It's
Make mistakes and learn from them
That's how life works
The Dedpoet Mar 2016
Once upon a time
I was cursed to follow a woman,
Her bed was the alter of my sacrifice.
    I had three jobs
To pay for her extravagant lifestyle,
    I robbed the local convenience store
to pay for her ttaste in expensive jewelry,
    I have checks made of rubber
That bounce from mall to mall,
   I could not stop myself
For I was fearful she might scorn
Me with her luscious lips,
Stare at me with those entrancing eyes!
  It wasn't always like those,
Before we used to date and eat ice cream
At the park,
Drink at the cabana place I know,
We would make love til the morning.

      But the years went by and I fell
In her web of mysteriousness,
She would wear these dresses
With nothing under and flash me
In privately in public places,
     She would contort her body
That wrote new chaoters in the
Kama Sutra, I was a poor boy
Lost in a world of candy.
Then, she threatened to take
Away all the sweets if I did not
Stop talking to my friends,
    And to make sure this came to
Be she hacked my Facebook page
And said I hated them all,
Each by name,
   She was in a jealous delirious state.
     When I get home from work
She makes me kiss her on her cheek,
The her forehead and slap her on her
Backside, she makes me talk
About which dress I will buy her next,
    Of what make her next shoes I will
Surprise her with, a pair a month
As a surprise, aside from the ones she
Expects on demand,
     My ears burn, I know she is near,
I throw up at how much I know about
women's clothing,
I fainted when she bought her
twentieth purse,
She then says for fainting she had to go
Rethink our relationship so she
Takes her mother on vacation
With my recently cashed 401k.

Its been some years now,
I stopped the three jobs and held on
To one, she did not mind
After I passed her credit check.
    But the woman accused me of not
Loving her and wasting her best years
Because I refused to buy her
A car, she could not drive,
So she brings her Mother home to visit
And after a month I buy her a Camry,
      Her eyes flash in anger because
It was not go to the year,
The new models came out next month
But it was the same year as it is now,
So I have no clue what she is babbling
About,
    I then walked out and lived as a homeless
Man for a few weeks,
I slept in the park and found peace in
Hunger, but the law would
Not let me stay there,
So then I went on to pretend I was
A joyous hobo,
And I lived in a small tent village
With others like me,
Many whom had left their
Crazy wives.

   One day I got a surprise kiss on my cheek,
It was her,
She had found me and I was horribly glad
To see her again,
But I thought I didn't love her anymore.
She holds my hand and says
That she will take care of me now,
That all my troubles are over.
She has bought me a plot
Of land with my tombstone
She said,
That I would be with her the rest of our
Days she said.
I told her I could use a break
From all the wild life,
Get me some food woman,
And a beer to boot.
As I wait for my new old wife,
I kick my feet up and watch
The game,
Next to the remote I notice the picture
Of my tombstone from
Some photo she took,
On it was my date of birth,
And mysteriously my date of....
Andrew Rueter Dec 2018
In the jungle monkeys look for a leader
He doesn’t need to be the best reader
He just needs to be a chest beater
Showing he’ll be a pest eater

An ape emerges from the crowd
Beating its breast
Proving it’s proud
Being the best
Is about being loud
So at its behest
The other apes bow

The lion has fallen asleep
So the ape stole its sheep
And its throne to keep
A mouth of foam to eat
Leading the rabid elite
With trampling feet
And fists that beat

His sharpened fangs
Above the breast he bangs
Cause excruciating pangs
Of torturous pain
In the forest that rains
He controls the brains
Of apes filled with blame
Creating an invasive game
That is their species’ shame

Monkeys think this knuckle dragger
Is more like Uncle Kracker
So they tumble after
His jungle laughter
As he hoards the bananas
Inside his comfy cabana
In a far off savanna

Can’t they see he’s escaping
To his savanna’s safety
After constantly taking
And rainforest ******?
They’re too busy flinging ****
To quietly sit
And examine his wit

Once things aren’t optimal
He avoids the topical
Where it’s sunny and tropical
But a heavy monsoon
Will be brought by God soon
To wipe out the barbaric baboon
And all of his goliath goons
Who are like ****** in the spoon
They’re boiled then used
To pacify the abused
Then filling their shoes

The monkeys’ malevolent master
Couldn’t be replaced any faster
Once every day turned into disaster
But the sour grapes
Dour ape
Escaped
Not an hour late
He ate the power plate
By building a tower of hate
And a coward’s gate
Sealing our fate
Of a jungle state
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
https://www.amazon.com/Icy-Andrew-Rueter-ebook/dp/B07VDLZT9Y/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Icy+Andrew+Rueter&qid=1572980151&sr=8-1
Justin S Wampler Sep 2014
The coils become
three inches from
the stem of a smoke
in the ashtray broke
at the cabana tonight
Vince dimmed the light
and I'm sober whilst
he serves me drinks.
The Dybbuk Jan 2020
Monkey banana,
Climbing trees and smoking canna
bis, it's bliss, over the abyss.
Monkey banana,
No pants, just bandanna,
Screaming "ooh ooh aah aah"
from inside my cabana.
I go to a weekly poetry night, and the theme this week is monkeys.

— The End —