"constituents" poems
Tired of the ways of men
Desperately I turned toward nature
I watched a butterfly ascend
Yet I'm a different nomenclature
Of a solemn glacier
Standing on my own
In an arctic cone
Not protected by the ozone
So I search for a new home
But can only find loans
My venture for my own real estate
Exposed me to the realest hate
I'm the roaming gnome
With a groaning tone
All alone
With a roaming phone
So I can't call home
My will I leave
When still I see
A killer bee
Filling me
Willingly
Its invasion's
Abrasions
Left a sensation
With a duration
Of unending inflation
On a descending station
Of no impending relation
I felt the nature
Of a desolate crater
When I met a great hater
Who told me to get straighter
So I could be a steel freighter
Carrying my load on my back
Without polluting the air
I decided to cut him some slack
Forgiving his impossible dare
I must gather grace
At a faster pace
To finish this race
Of a top notch
Hot crotch
Stopwatch
Ticking down
Into the ground
Without a sound
Or warning
Of acid rain forming
Until I see myself melting
From the savage belting
Of your death sting
You called the best thing
Like a divine blessing
Only seen after **********
Like a politician deflecting
For the constituents electing
To forego dissecting
The issue at hand
By not taking a stand
My world is crumbling
Because of you
And myself stumbling
In society's glue
As the sky is tumbling
I see I'll lose
Yet instead of rumbling
It's love I choose
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC
Governments fall from sheer indifference.
Authority figures, deprived of the vampiric energy they **** off their constituents, are seen for what they are: dead empty masks manipulated by computers. And what is behind the computers? Remote control. Of course. Look at the prison you are in, we are all in. This is a penal colony that is now a Death Camp. Place of the Second and Final Death. Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. Don’t intend to be there when this ********* goes up. Nothing here now but the recordings. Shut them off, they are as radioactive as an old joke…
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 5:58 PM UTC
Nature's wilderness has its characteristics which are its constituents. Never before had I seen such a splendid sight of grace and beauty as a waterfall. Life was being given to the green flowing lush vegetation on either side of a glittering strip of fluid motion moving down the land like a snake through grass. How enchanting the sight was and oh how comforting. So comforting because it was a relief to know that something cared for the young and insecure on which they were dependent. The sounds that came from the scene reminded me of the nurturing and caressing tunes that a mother makes when feeding her young. I must say that I was deeply overwhelmed by the associations which evolved in my mind witnessing this spectacle. Nature has supported Man over the years, therefore Man should show gratitude by caring for the environment in which he lives - Nature. Oh! if only people could understand and endeavour to achieve this ideal.
__________________________________________________________________________
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
Finally it is done.
For months I have been
collecting ingredients
for the magical elixir -
home grown ginger and rosemary,
fresh organic garlic, onions and lemon,
finely chopped jalapeno pepper,
powdered turmeric,
Ceylon cinnamon,
tulsi, kelp and black pepper.
What eluded me was the
pungent, fresh horseradish,
unexpectedly absent in our stores
and farmers markets,
until a birthday trip to New York,
when we found the massive roots
in a Russian market.
And, once properly chopped
and shredded and zested,
all is covered and bathed
in organic apple cider vinegar,
a superfood in itself,
where it will draw out the
healing constituents
of each vital ingredient,
creating a powerhouse of wellness.
And now we wait.
Four to eight weeks
of shaking the jars every day
before we drain the lot,
run the pulp through a juice extractor
and add the final touch ...
local honey, raw and unfiltered,
adding sweetness and
its own preserving power,
along with a strong boost to health.
A long time to wait
for this Nectar of the Gods,
but so very worth it:
a shot of this each day
and colds and flu stand no chance -
bacteria and virus alike
overwhelmed -
say goodbye to illness.
Let us now give thanks
to our grandmothers
and all the lay herbalists
of generations long past,
for through their efforts,
our own knowledge
is greatly enriched.
We stand on the shoulders of giants.
5July2015
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 9:19 PM UTC
o darling oh wohw ohhh dar-ling oh wohw wohw wohw dahrrr-leeeing some gunman walked into the mall
who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for I said Sarah Palin with my cross-hair target I shot Gabby Giffords who saw her fall? I said gun laws people with my little eye I saw her fall who caught her blood? I said Daniel Hernandez who placed pressure to her wound with my finger caught her blood who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who'll make the shroud? I said Cochise County ranchers pressuring for tougher Mexican border laws I'll make the shroud with my thread and needle who'll interpret what she stood for? I said Tea Party constituents with my pick and shovel I’ll dig her grave who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who'll be the minister? I said Washington lobbyists with my little book I’ll be the minister who'll be the clerk? I said the media if it's not in the dark I'll be the clerk who'll carry the link I said Twitter I'll fetch it in a minute I'll carry the link who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who'll be chief mourner? I said American people I mourn for my love I’ll be chief mourner who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who'll carry the consequence? I said destitute lost their homes to Wall Street banks if it's not through the night I'll carry the moment who'll bear the sadness? We said the world both man and woman We'll bear sadness who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who'll sing a psalm? I said the poet as she sat on a bush I'll sing a psalm who'll toll the bell? I said factory worker because I can pull I'll toll the bell for all people of the land fell a-sighing a-sobbing when they heard the bell toll for poor Gabby Giffords. who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for some gunman walked into the mall 9 mm Glock in his hand shot a bullet through her head 13 wounded 6 dead including little 9 year old girl Christina-Taylor Green who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for
marching bands make me cry i don’t know why they’re so dazzling beautiful fun playing their instruments marching in uniformed unison they melt my heart eyes wet with sadness joy who shot Gabby Giffords? some gunman walked into the mall
Jan 28, 2011
Jan 28, 2011 at 2:19 AM UTC
See the Republican,
Hop, hop, hop.
Hack up the welfare laws
Chop, chop, chop.
See him getting wealthy,
Shop, shop, shop.
Watch all our forests go
Drop, drop, drop.
Teflon coated Republican,
Crook, crook, crook.
Put him in a prison cell,
Book, book, book.
Fine him for every dime he
Took, took, took.
Check out his finances,
Look, look, look.
Hear the Republican,
Lie, lie, lie.
Selling out constituents,
Sigh, sigh, sigh.
Writing up new voting laws,
Cry, cry, cry.
Cutting breaks for all the rich,
Why, why, why?
Smell the Republican,
Stink, stink, stink.
Defender and a patriot,
Wink, wink, wink.
Master of the magic trick,
Blink, blink, blink.
Hater of the common man,
Fink, fink, fink.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man,
who the **** are you to say
what information the Government gets
at the detriment of mankind anyway?
Have you forgotten the Bill of Rights?
The 'inalienable' rights we all have?
Do they even ******* matter?
Do they even ******* exist?
I guess not.
What the **** are they doing
pressing this CISPA ********
Unlawful search and seizure of digital information
and they don't even care for warrants.
Under the guise of National Security
you'd have us all put in Camps or killed
just like we did to the Japanese all those years ago
but we've moved past that... right? Right?
I guess not.
We just keep it all more secretive now:
The people didn't stand for SOPA
and surely not for the NDAA
so what the **** gives you the idea
CISPA will fly, anyway?
Maybe if no one heard about it, it would work...
Maybe that's what you were counting on.
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man,
who the **** are you to say
what information the Government gets
at the detriment of mankind anyway?
**** you, Mr. Politician Man
along with your constituents.
**** you, Mr. Politician Man
and your endorsements.
The Fourth Amendment requires due process
precluding unjust search and seizure;
but where the **** is due process or justice
in this proposed search at leisure?
You pass new legislation that augments old laws,
so much that they don't even need probable cause,
but not new rights nor protections for the citizenry,
not surprising given your abhorrent deontology:
You'd sooner send drones than diplomats.
You'd sooner stage attacks than be peaceful.
You'd sooner bail out banks than your citizens.
You'd sooner pass a law than change your ******* underwear.
What the **** gives you an inkling of the notion
that a beloved sociopath Politician
deserves your ******* devotion
if they pull this sort of ethical rescission?
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man,
who the **** are you to say
what information the Government gets
at the detriment of mankind anyway?
**** you, Mr. Politician Man
along with your constituents.
**** you, Mr. Politician Man
and your endorsements.
**** me, Mr. Politician Man,
like you already do behind closed doors.
**** me, Mr. Politician Man
for ever trusting this accursed system.
Well, who the **** are you
trusted making legislation,
you can't even overcome
******* monetary gravitation.
Well, excuse me, Mr. Politician Man,
you want the People to become transparent?
Well **** you then, Mr. Politician Man
we want transparency of Government:
I'm sick of not knowing where Tax dollars go,
I'm sick of knowing over a quarter goes to the Military
which is funny in a deeply ****** up way
because I know I may help pay for
the drone that might fly overhead and see me and my friends as insurgents
and launch an IR missile to blow us to bits,
or the bullet that may be sent through my brain
as a distant if more probable than ever result
of your ******* legislation:
And so I say:
**** you, Mr. Politician Man,
along with your constituents
for making this a feasibility;
you're supposed to serve the people
but you'd rather put the U.S. in a state of futility.
So,
on behalf of all those you alienate each day,
I wish to extend to you a humble and heartfelt
Go **** yourself.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
science has entrenched itself in stating that original humanism is an idiocy, science believes that only scientific humanism can suffice, and original humanism i.e. humanism not schooled in science is a waste of time, man's development watching paint dry, i.e.: i feel dumber writing a poem and not an equation to align to einstein's relativity.
the english don't recognise long-term humour,
a bit like the polish not able
to recognise old school migrants of
their mutual organic constituents
speaking their tongue, they play it dumb,
with statements like huh? what? om?
the english are smart, let's not disagree,
but their intelligence is short-lived,
like their appreciation of humour,
quick wit buckle stiletto (meaning an easy
girl), they're intelligent in terms of
how quickly you colt-drawn a six-shooter into
conversation for a pick-me-up,
the english have short-term intelligence
exercised for humoristic attention,
their long-term humour is used in defending
democracy... the english have no long-term
humour parameters, i'm guessing because
of the celts... it's all short-term, i.e.:
how quickly can i retort to a joke and choke
on a whimsical mushroom that's an umbrella?
hence the many innovations...
steam engine... the umbilical cord attached
to arabia... joke is quick... joking is quicker...
tense social parameters of having a drink...
laugh it up... drink alone.
*they make slapstick damnable and satire exceptional,
but their satire requires canned laughter,
it's called satire but i call it lazy humour...
look what slapstick gave us... charlie chaplin
gave birth to adolf ******* ******
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 3:07 AM UTC
Orange orange everywhere
Orange orange in the air
I’m given an orange despair
By a man with orange hair
I see through his orange glare
To see nothing really there
A man became president
Promising to evict residents
His stupidity self evident
When he says nothing relevant
About all the topical elements
He just talks for the hell of it
He’s unfit to lead
Because he’s equipped with greed
And an unwillingness to read
Gaining success from his family tree
He lives the American dream
By making others scream
To indulge his team
And his bigotry
All it took for his courtship
Was a culture of celebrity worship
And idiots buying his horseshit
Of acting remorseless
The gullible are impressed
With how well he is dressed
So they think he’s the best
Putting him in a wing that is west
Because he has a lot of money
But without any capability
You better start running
Money let’s him **** willingly
He takes advantage of the stupid and racist
By pointing at people with brown faces
Saying they’re here to replace us
Like they’re working for Asus
And not mowing his lawn
He said they will **** us
To manipulate his pawns
He’s a megalomaniac
Who thinks he’s a brainiac
But it’s a brain he lacks
To understand the impact
Of his negative attacks
Still he thinks he’s a genius
Which justifies his meanness
So his cruelty is seamless
While he claims to redeem us
This is our most vulnerable hour
With a president compromised by foreign powers
Building ivory towers
By turning minorities sour
There’s a litany of reasons
Why he calls them heathens
But it all revolves around freedoms
Being stripped from those who need them
His constituents have their heads in the sand
So they blindly give in to his demands
Going after whoever he’s ******
In the name of this land
Other kinds are banned
You can tell the bad guys have won
When they start separating mothers from sons
At the end of a gun
So there’s nowhere to run
Away from the oppression
Of our downward descension
As he does nothing to lessen
The root of our depression
His concentration camps
Give a **** slant
To his lofty plans
Until no one can stand
Without a weapon
Because of his deception
Which was his intention
To win the election
He promised detention
Of the boogeyman mentioned
The red, white and blue
Adopts an orange hue
When the foreign lose
From the fascist bruise
Of an orange noose
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 9:47 PM UTC
We were born untainted like empty canvas; a bud of roses.
But as time linger we digress from our innocence and actual selves.
We were scratched and polished, from diamonds pulvarized to dirt.
The facade we kept after succumbing to society’s propriety became us,
And the true face and being what we were became lost in time.
The mirror no longer reveals us, because we metamorphosed to someone else.
Another face in society, swallowed by the world’s expectations and encumbrance.
The appropriateness of etiquette, social conformity, and worldly priorities.
Day by day, we became less of ourselves, and more like everyone else.
Converging needs and wants, we lost our personal uniqueness,
And it seems like our attempt to be different is the same as everyone’s else.
By and by, we effort for elopement to get out of the box is futile – rather impossible.
Epitome of wealth and exclusiveness; highest degree of poverty and martyrdom.
In between those of extreme pillars, everyone seems to be in between and at both sides.
The world has become more dimensional, efficient, yet ineffective.
For our sweat and blood goes out for the wrong reasons;
And we fight against one another, (thus fighting against ourselves), to become the winner.
The winners aren’t actually victorious; neither are the loser the ultimate champions.
And this is only a mere microcosm,
to signify how the multifarious constituents that the world has formed:
a composite, complex, compound conformed convolution.
Apr 20, 2012
Apr 20, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
a political party that supports
the legalization of Mary Jane
is bound to be the first one
to sprint down the winner's lane
the constituents shall be busy
potting many a dope seed
so they've got a sufficient supply
of ye olde happy ****
to-day bongs and reefers
will be lit in much jubilation
as the smokers get high
on Mary Jane's elevation
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
I briskly walk heel-to-toe in order to keep my surprise,
equipped and prepared with deadly ammunition from the wise.
I spot many targets running clearly in and out of plain sight,
as I methodically recite the magical words for entering the limelight.
Other hunters encircle and stalk the same prey,
each of their minds accelerating towards the main entree.
Encompassed and imprisoned by materialistic greed,
and it all started from a small seed, the creation of currency.
The few who control these jobs drink any ambrosia of their picking,
simultaneously tossing constituents bones about after tooth picking.
Too much is never enough, yet we all throw out the crust.
The world's insatiable thirst is much more than these agenda-based bluffs, it is all about making a job market for many...is that too tough?
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
born of blood
from a thorn
of a beautiful flower
from the love
of the horned
adorned
in power
cowering
in the vicious
maliciousness
of the constituents
in the deliverance
to my ridiculousness
saw
twisted shapes
and contorting faces
heard
blurred words
displaced
in hateful slurs
of aggression
and i cannot count the cases
in my tasteless confessions
in my reluctant concessions
in my brutal perfection
of my obsessions
imposed against my will
you're supposed to feel
what they do
right?
opposed to killing
for the thrill
but it sometimes
just feels right
shanky gone unscrupulous
shivering
his shimmied
blood on the walls
stuttering stanleys
still silly stringing
calling for candy
but missed last call
and fell to the floor
as Bruno butchered the boar
in a deplorable fashion
a crime of passion
we were hungry
rubbing our tummies
for the honey
of bee hives
jive turkeys
turning to bunnys
for good times
but we were alive
while others were not
fraught with darkling majesty
sparkling at the seraded points
disjointed
in Freudian
ointments
self anointed
as god
standing over
some butchered
brod from abroad
wiping the fog
of dislodged
eye sockets
from my grog
how you get
from there to here
isn't really a fair mirror
on my intention
i meant to
suspend her
just enough
to face f--k
and with luck
strangle her
but she prayed to be ripped down
in her own way
my f--king way
stripped her
of dignity
wimpering
in little cute sounds
who am i?
but the guy
who spaced
hit her
too many times in the face
and replaced her
facelessness
with ***** toiletries
disappointingly
underwhelmed
still in search of a fairy
to take the helm
and ferry me
from this film
disparagingly
just spare me
the tragedy and grief
blaring from the TV
as i mock
their expressions
in my lessons
of humanity
before the flock
to shelter
my anxiety or not
gonna be
a real boy one day
and conform
to the
wayward ways
the way
of sheep
sleeping
soundly
in decay
blue fairy
gonna
marry me
one
day
be
real
one
day
one
day
1
d
a
y
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
She deserves recognition
For her work as a technician
Who's expertise is ball bustin
Who majors in ********
Excelling in the field of advance
Hot air production
A profession heckler who
Composes an orchestra conductin
A firework show eruptin
With colorful rants red, and purples
She's acclaimed for rhetorical
Questions that repeats in circles
An elite linguistics scholar
Who's sarcasm is an accomplishment
Very talented...no gifted at making
An insult sound like a compliment
And Her stamina to do so
Is like an Olympian who's pleased
Only when her track and field
Meet of slander makes ur ears bleed
A masters degree in belittling
A graduated philosopher for the bitter
Must be a psychologist the way
She attacks my sanity to litter
Insecurities, and doubts and I
Heard she has a phd in hypnosis
Until u start to believe her ********
And this psychosomatic is ur psychosis
A world class magician who's
Tricks leave u perplexed in thought
A novelist who narrates to taunt
Controlling all characters and plot
She wrote the book on torturing
A man and emasculating him so
He may never move forward and
She was in the military I'm told
Historically known for her
intellectual Warfare
Manipulating soilders and utilizing
The grounds to ambush u there
A social tyrant who's brilliant
Political ties help her achieve
Her plan like constituents are
Biased so they're all after me
A paralegal who's unfair and lethal
And to her it's titalation
Unfair is her terms but like a
Perm ull get burned in litagation
A degree in early childhood
Education so she acts like a rebel
Perfecting being childish and
Unaffected by ur feelings on levels
Only a schoolyard bully could
Match, she's my jailhouse warden
Who's power is focused on me
Relentlessly constructing like a foreman
With Her future blueprints to
See what the hell she builds for me
Will look like, and she's also a director
In the *********** industry
So she tells in great detail
Just how I'll be ******
She must have been taught by
Peter pan how to never grow up
Trained as medic who specializes
In one area over them all
Nudering human males
So surgically she removes my *****
After she breaks them and
So I am the constant fool
This exceptional jack of trades
Makes me wish that I stayed in school
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
Conservative these days now means
The richest are the few who glean
The wealth that exists in our land.
The rest of it is sleight of hand.
After decades of this foolishness
We have grown weary of your mess.
We don’t think we can ever win
This country back to from you again.
You seem to hate those who are non-rich
And include them in every austerity pitch.
You refuse to help them feed their brood
Then pay the farmers not to grow food.
You cover yourself with glowing self-praise;
People starve, you grant yourself a raise.
You stand before the rich and genuflect
And subject your constituents to neglect.
You want every child to be born
Then vote to have their allotment shorn.
You seem to want them not to thrive;
You only protect them until they are alive.
You send the soldiers to march and die
And deny them benefits. Tell us why.
Is it because you have your wealth
And no longer care about their health?
The most hateful game you always play
Is making the voters look another way.
While you make laws that take their rights
You engage them in unimportant fights
About who is sleeping with whom today
And who is straight and who else is gay.
Or you worry the people about war
While you funnel subsidies by the score.
You pay your friends and give them jobs
Then call your opponents egregious slobs.
You engage in double-talk about the facts
And claim calumnies are helpful acts.
You accept your fortunes from commerce
And agree to treat the populace worse.
No matter how often you rearrange things
You edits end up being very strange things.
We need to hear our own clarion call
And push this kind of politics to the wall.
We must do more than hope for liberty
And once again fight for the land of the free.
We can’t just sit around at home and mope.
As it is, today, we can only sadly hope
That some liberty you will choose to take
Will cause the regular people to awake.
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Great God of Mine,
How is it that the planets faithfully revolve around Your solar star
How is that the acorn mystically re-fashions itself into the majestic tree
How is it that the monarch finds the flyways and air currents to its winter home
Great God of Mine,
Why is it that babies are being born to immature children who can’t rear them
Why is it that a father takes out his anger on his wife and offspring
Why is it that man is incapable of living peacefully with his neighbor
Great God of Mine,
How is it that Rahab was chosen to facilitate an enemy’s victory over her Jericho
How is that the Samaritan woman at the well claimed Jesus’s living water
How is it that Simon of Cyrene forcefully bore the cross to Golgotha behind Jesus
Great God of Mine,
Why is it that mothers can end the lives of their little ones
Why is it that drug-users and perverts are destroying safe homes
Why is it that political leaders make selfish decisions that harm their constituents
Great God of Mine,
How is it that you created man for relationship knowing his inability to sustain it
How is it that you eternally love mankind in the face of his constant rejection
How is it that you sacrificed your innocent Son to save a sinful people
Great God of Mine,
Why is it that the twelve apostles included a traitor
Why is it that the “rock of the church” denied your Son three times
Why is it that an apostle who walked with Jesus could doubt his authenticity
Great God of Mine,
How is it that You knew me before time began
How is it that You saved me with my not deserving it
How is it that You love me; You LOVE…ME!
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
all my poems are unique general principles
~for Helene Mendelsohn~
“A general principle never comes to life in my mind except by exhibiting itself in various special forms and in
crowds of instances for each form":
R.G. Collingwood
each a construct - an arch-i-texture,
each a crowd of a single instance
special forum, a dialogue differentiation,
a conjugate particle,
forming up, in marching order,
a singular troop, a base case singular,
a soldier especially demanding,
“Of Me, Write, Write”
for within my insight,
a one-off sighting,
one glinting wave reflecting,
its one millisecond exactitude of existence,
reforming unseemly, a new but not!
a seemingly similar shifted shape,
but no wave is a precision repetition,
perhaps a passing familiarity
of its precedents, antecedents,
at best
an instance borrowed and paid back
to the generosity of time
for a fully developed statement of a
general principle,
even a primary secondary textual emendation,
requires a unique naming definition
being born and dead dying while you are blinking,
does not understate absolute value,
a principle exists to give absolution,
so the moments resets,
perpetually,
but its own resolution is n’err forgotten
do you see the crowd of inferences
herein contained?
the principal unique,
poem plucked from passing sun ray,
a tickling hair of a brazen breeze,
one wave, one wave reconstituting a
millennium of preceding lives,
deriving its abbreviated genealogy
of droplets of prior principles
forever reinterpreted
so I gave you back
words you knew
but in a new combination
establishing this poem,
its constituents,
as a unique general principle
there is a prior poem, new, unique
in everything
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
The Compact
Some of us are given to,
upon our person to secret
instrumentation to adjust
the patina of our ****** tones,
lest the glare of man made light
lend a shine undesired and worse,
uncovered windowed pores allow
revelations undesirable into our souls.
In other words, a compact and its constituents:
puff, powder and mirror.
Observed a compact in use
between Act I and Act II,
the deft use of the mirror,
angled, moved back and forth
to provide perspective,
close-up and/or total.
The Gods of Metaphor,
Deities of Derision
force my unwilling reveal
thru the holy confessional screen:
I too have a compact.
My compact, a deal, a treaty accord
between the white rigors of life daily,
and spasms of black lies
to make appearances tolerable.
My compact is what I cover up
with powder and puffery.
Aged sixty two years, life nonsensical,
perversely inversely, the dependence upon
these cracked hands grows,
dying cells dividing like newborns,
worrisome weariness make the lies
come faster and more frequent,
which is why my compact has a mirror.
No matter what perspective enamored,
In the mirror, my reality check,
No powder upon my eyes,
the brutality and the joy,
of life is undisguised.
Nonetheless, I have more,
Morethanless, the balance
is favorable, the outlook positive.
My compact with you is to
remind us all, through
music, dance, words and love,
This is the only compact
with the power of human law.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 11:27 AM UTC
We the $heeple of the United $tates,
in order to preclude a more perfect union,
disestablish justice,
injure domestic tranquility,
provide for the common defense of the Military-Industrial complex,
promote the general welfare of Halliburton, Monsanto, the Big-Banks and Wal-Mart,
and secure the blessings of liberty for our wealthy and their constituents,
do disdain and defile the Constitution
in spite of the People
of the United $tates of America.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 5:29 PM UTC
I’m not much of a poet
The constituents of Shakespeare’s thoughts were not replicated unto me
The tantalizing, beautiful linger of Maya Angelou’s words were not instilled in my dialect
I digest what I see from other people
Speak your heart rhyme your words make it seem like its talent
Poetry, battle cry, dormitory
Is that good enough
I’m not much of a poet
I’m not frantic about the poem I’m writing right now
I’m just doing what I feel is right
Speaking my heart rhyming my words pretending to have a talent
I’m not much of a poet
I sometimes create fabrications to make my words sound poetical
But I would be creating another fabrication if I told you; you were not much of poet
Because whoever you are and whatever you write it is right
It may not rhyme or contain bombastic words
But you are a poet
You create a creation that needs attention
You don’t create *******
You are much of a poet
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 6:45 AM UTC
He was in a cold sweat during a heatwave
She had hot flashes during a cold snap
Fever blisters, heat blisters
Frost bite and heat stroke
Take a cold shower together
Then put on your street clothes
Feast your eyes
Set your sights
Impeccably punctual
The rag tag constituents
*** rush the 'ol drawing board for bragging rights
A jail break in the making
Drinking rat tails at last call
Scarfing down pickled pigs feet
It's hit or miss
It's a leap year
Locking horns with one another
Ornery
Putting forth an esteemed ultimatum
Swing and a miss
Hock your watch
And mind the store
Don't ask don't tell
It's a work in progress
-Tommy Johnson
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
*etymology extract: as was said, they'd read my poetry
on the front, among the billions, a few might tread,
from everyday Monday through to Sabbath,
thus said, archaeologically bound: Egypt, Josephus,
the nativity play, xylophone, and too much
indoctrination acquired to walk like a peacock,
and indeed more strut likening to a crow;
for indeed the waterfall of skulls, the dead sea
which reaches depths higher than peaks of architectural
adventure in man levelling mountains,
exploring sea depths and excavating depths
of the prized orbits: such restlessness never once
but countless times before; so soon forgotten
among the revision of partitioning, that nearer
Israel's resurrection on a foreign continent
than a neighbour's resurrected breath on the continent
concerned... leave unto Persia that book,
and unto Africa the judgement over Egypt...
but so your toying in global affairs is gluttonous in
sugars of hoped for sweeteners in applicability,
paying remnants of the economic enrichment i too remember,
20 to a room... 20 to a room... with baked beans soup
and white bread to send breadcrumbs home...
oh but my scottish compatriots haven't felt the full
**** of immigration, they haven't!*
why not talk of Kazimierz Prószyński
like you do concerning Auguste and Louis Lumière?
oh, i get it, ******* in the hood...
Europe is really foreign accepting the existence
of the once famed commonwealth,
as the present time, with the resurgence of
Israel, which can't be split equally, fathered
and equally brothered among the constituents
from the Baltic to the Black Sea...
from the median to the red...
best keep the sea lions bopping along with dear tourism
in the over-salted sea,
should the dead sea attract more sacrifice than the
touristy hill outside Jerusalem.
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 8:59 PM UTC
tendril scrawl of
notmuchlongernow,
trellis all thoughts of the sea
in vain.
my brain
is not well.
it resembles
blank page,
dog-eared.
i fell
alongside the angel,
and i'll rise up
with the simpler
constituents
in that beautiful
wonderful tiny lukewarm
yellowish glow.
my little halo
in the compost
worn by the glorious
green bottle fly - lithe, woke, on it.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
Executive- My powers are absolute,
thus I am totalitarian.
The legislature and judiciary
are each subservient to my whims.
I pass my bills with attendant
compliance, and interpret my own
terms as the law.
I shut the doors of compassion,
I am very deeply elusive.
I give no room at all to dissent.
I get bloated with the treasures of the nation.
In a leap year's tenure I bulldoze
my way back to my incumbent status.
And when four multiplies two, I impose
a minion to cover my ills.
Legislature- To obnoxious decrees I give my consent.
I inflate yearly forecasts to become opulent.
I am gratified for the cabinet servants' affirmation.
I always my selfish treaties ratify.
I am undoubtedly slavish to executive excesses.
I seek the redress of constituents' grievances
to enlarge my pocket's size.
And above all else, I am largely rubber stamp.
Judiciary- My evasive justice is yours' to reap
if you are a top notch,
whilst I withdraw the distributive
and restorative from insolvents.
I base my interpretations on business
interests,
and make laws for the interests of
a cabal.
Equity and rights are only in my
constitution stated.
But in reality they are no more
than abstract twins.
The sacred laws of our national prospectus
I serve as a weak custodian of,
and weaker still in the face of political
heavyweights.
But with all the lofty responsibilities
I am reverently saddled with,
I can do nothing more than
empower bigwigs because I am weak,
and they are powerful.
Aug 2, 2023
Aug 2, 2023 at 5:29 PM UTC
There are small moments in my life
where the waking world
slows to a dialogue.
Asking to let the river come.
To wash away the sawdust
from woodchips
set to a fine puree
in the blending of my heart
sounding off midst thunderstorm
midst sun shower
midst silence
midst hunger pang
midst every hungry lover and everything in between.
A little mental friction
for a lot of features
content to become words.
Sounds that become symbols
becoming a box.
Express delivery
intending to deliver me.
Here, here, it’s here finally.
Talking to flowers
I feel guilty for having starved;
"Wake up little ones,
the bees thank you for breakfast
their queen sending her regards in all in an instant.
Heralding her approach with a question,
"If ever body of water is the same then how come we give them different names?"
My insides swell as the pitcher empties
a cascade of the liquid life force each of our bodies are known to contain.
Despite all the knowing,
despite the constituents of our anatomy being hardly a mystery
I still find myself capable of pondering a stranger's.
Even stranger to think of any beauty before me
as a complex wave function.
trinkling into my sight on waves of light
like water over hungry flora hoping to make something of those same waves.
She's here
the queen's words shining in every droplet
and they say,
"given enough time stars become people, becoming you,
becoming a cog in the clockwork that becomes the reason
we thrive."
Reminding me, though the light may play tricks with my sense,
anything anybody else ever has told me about beauty has been a lie.
This is THE soul reason to even be bothered to write this dialogue down.
So I may lie to you.
An open book so you may be certain.
Have you ever been so certain of something?
It seems all that could ever be true is the royal you.
Sliding perspective's scale over a notch
you become the queen's resolution,
laboring to unify a single mind
and the world becomes you
watering flowers out of guilt.
Transforming what you know to be most real,
washing over you
like seredipity on a day
where everything has gone wrong,
into right
into a dialogue
into you
into everything
and back.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC