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Mike Hauser Mar 2013
Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
****** *****'s
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan

Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies

Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
Do *** Daddies
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up

Are just a few of the sights that you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Thank you...Thank you very Much

Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building
ConnectHook Apr 2016
I sing of life at state expense
a state devoid of common sense
addicted to obesity
impolitic in body weight
yet headed for austerity
as other people’s money ends
plebeian class-revolt transcends
our bureaucratic history.

They stack the monthly welfare decks
complain the service second-rate
those sullen clients, thankless louts
pajama-clad with tattooed pouts
whose girlfriends swell while babies cry;
the fathers mumble, sagging high
and wait in lines. The women try
to fool the lunar period
conceptions waxing myriad
while teenage dads discover ***
and social workers cash the checks
the daily urban nightmare is
enough to scare a nation broke
in clouds of marijuana smoke:
the cashless global mystery.

The breeders born in tropic lands
are tempted till they take the bait
no baby-momma understands
what family means, what life demands
Your undertakers overstate
in order to remunerate
your Democratic history:
a bankrupt urban mystery
the not-so-Great Society.

The ghetto *****-donation ploy
makes babies but maintains the boy
to run around from mom to mom
slow-motion population bomb
as if to merely demonstrate
that social program funders wait
till number-crunchers aggravate
the urban teenage welfare state.
♂✿∅☢♂☯✰✿☠♂☯✰
a  poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016
            ✿
www.connecthook.wordpress.com
            ☮
nivek Feb 2016
Statistics follow you around
all the way to finality
and even then, you will still be counted
Marshall Gass Apr 2014
No matter the colour of the skin
the shade of eye and the silver Mercedes
parked in angular arrogance
or the pin-striped suit and embossed briefcase.
This is all external. Internally lies a rot
that seeps through your emotions and spills
out your conversation of stocks and shares
and deals awaiting in the forest
of your investment. Money kills.
The lines jangle and rise with regular
asterisk displays of sharebrokers
meetings with profound number crunchers
all racing to the billionaire list on Forbes
unaware that at home the little
boy is playing with matches
and momma is looking out the window
watching a man across the street
meddling with his mistress'
bra straps. You would never ever know
how she feels in her own narcotic ecstasy.

Each day you are missing
she is rowing a boat to a
nowhere shore
where weasels wait to devour
her destiny !

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
They figure it out
and factor it in
then they let us know
when our lives can begin,

on the abacus
it's just me and
the beads
who needs anyone else.

but lockdown is being eased
and
that's nothing to sneeze at.
Ash Slade Oct 2017
crows near barn    faded red    white stripe panes
scitter scatter    peck at grass
crunch leaves
coated floor    scavenging seeds
overhead like gold/red skyscrapers
angular    tall
declension
touches down
free fall
folks claim it's passed us by
it jostles senses
ramshackle deck    weak 'n worn    flimsy 'n haphazard
wobbly    uncertain    ***** on railing
fall into hands
dismantling of childhood
once was    no longer is
whistles blow crunchers onto old meeting place
furry Beanie Baby zips across pole
James M Vines Jun 2017
Chatting, tweeting, snap chatting, and photo bombing, where did we go wrong. Intimate moments have been lost to the electronic domain, we have forgotten how to relate to each other. Emojies tell others what we think and not our own words. We are analyzed by corporate number crunchers so they can market to us even in our sleep. We are photographed and video taped with in an inch of our lives. Our privacy is on display for all of the world to see. Electronic books and blogs have taken the place of a good novel and a quiet conversation over coffee with friends. All of it is tracked and digitally quantified. What if we all unplugged for just one day, would the world come to a screeching halt? Perhaps the brain trust that wants to monitor our every moment would come to realize that we do not want to be face booked to the world and just want our privacy back.
Nick Aceway Sep 2018
Gone now a month
Not much progress
On cleaning out your house.

Removing your memory
Before the number crunchers
Come to sell off your essence

Procrastinating with your life remnants.
Pretending life’s the same
Knowing betters the torture.
Nomad May 2014
Think about the children!
The Children!
...So they cry and wail,
when all we do is cram them in boats,
and let them set sail.

We all want, and hope for a better future,
for you, for me, for us and them.
When we really are missing out, on the one true gems.

The Children!

Ah yes, the crumb-crunchers,
the ankle-bitters,
the moving, sleeping, babbling, leaking toilet and faucet,
we really don't know what we have,
as per usual, until we have truly lost it.

The Children.

They'll only be children once,
in respect to their age,
and then they'll grow up,
start a whole new chapter,
with the turning of a page.

And so quickly does the page turn.

The Children were us,
and now more are coming,
when they start to cry,
where exactly do we go running?

Be the one to give them hope,
be the one to tell them to follow their dreams,
be the one to teach them what's right and wrong,
teach them, teach them, to sing their own song.

This life is cruel, the world more so,
lessons can be learned the easy and the hard way,
but they have to be learned,
learned some day.

So start young,
with the precious little ones,
teach them all that is right and well,
to your daughters and sons.

Let them be children,
for the sake of their future,
let them have their past,
because they'll only be children once,
before the years start running fast.

So think about the Children,
yours, mine and ours,
keep them safe, and teach them well,
or they'll be rotten, and sours.

This is for the children so small,
think of one,
you think of all.

For the Children.
Don't be creepy. Any way, seriously, take on the role of the parent, if any here being one would understand, they wan the best for them.  And if you're a sibling, be the shining example. Even if you're younger.
And even if you're baby-sitting, or simply being kind, play the role of bigger brother or sister. And mind your manners.
nivek Mar 2021
I am a mathematical problem
a set of numbers to resolve
punched into a calculator
I never completely equalize.
Mike Hauser May 2018
Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
****** *****'s
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan

Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies

Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
Do *** Daddies
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up

Are just a few of the sights that you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee

Thank you...Thank you very Much

Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building
Jester May 2018
Light a flash and the magic starts,
To the stage, to the crowd, to the person you play nightly.

Dance and sing to the colored lights.  Now watch our tricks, now watch our trade, we're live and every night is a new sight of wonder and you wonder how we do what we do.

We're entertainers who work with smoke, mirror and shadow to create the spectacles of light and sound, high flyers and fire breathers, so welcome to the show and take a seat number crunchers and daydreamers.

We are the way to release, we provide you with the escape you want, you need, you're afraid to let go. So let us let go for you.

Come one, come all. Come big, come tall, come short, come small. Bring your smiles, bring your dreams, bring your family, friends and loves.

Moment to moment, watch our movements and watch what we do because while we do what we do and we do it for you, we do it for us because no one else will.

Entertainers entertaining the ideas that you dream of, that exist in your mind and dreams.
Billy's sour-cream-**** crunchers attack Hillary's ***-**** munchers
as 97 genders shall flow, like the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
before it fills the sea with a mother-headed swill, my Texas cheap-o
Walter Alter Aug 2023
college is a lot of fun dad
today we hanged the psychemetrics professor
and that's how break dancing began
in yesterday's semaphore seminar we learned
that excessive nuance can make you crazy
the human mind is but a word game
the right combination gets you in
otherwise a Hieronymus Bosch picnic
at the edge of the Lake of Fire
but sometimes I digress menacingly
into the blazoned uncharted subjective
the campus necromancers are not house trained
consequently they can read spoor like a road map
Professor Phoebe lifted her dress and squatted
took an interpretive dump in the snow
which rapidly melted into its own hole
in the shape of a lyric parallelogram
and I contemplated a change of career path
since majoring in cognition is a tricky business
one marginally deduced sink hole after another
wrack your nurture brains for the nature solution
working with the pharmacy to create a better world
don't you roll your eyes at me
or you'll get a lecture on the mood swing paradigm
when you outwit the voices you have won
quiz on the interior pantheon this Wodenstag
we'll prepare the way of pain
with a ray of sunlight and save the world
believe that and you'll believe nothing is derived
our academicians went into wedge formation
it was an uprising over a lack of continuity
between the wild eyed number crunchers
and the pale tubercular simulation priesthood
the picture took on a vivid rosy hue
because it bled from every pore
where relativists appeal to universals
and tyrants call truth a tyranny
forced my conclusion all traps are invisible
which is why they are called traps
both sides are in on it do the math
it's political suicide everywhere
wisdom is just another commodity
and all vision is parallel up to a point
hold your head still see with your eyes
that's the continuity I'm talking about
the first university of its kind
an effortless engine of didactic beauty
this is obviously the partial reality from which
we piece together the rest of reality
the internal world derives from
the external one every ******* time

From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon

— The End —