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Swamy Downey and SIRI
Taking a stroll
Along the beach

SIRI said
No man is committed

Uh huh
Said Swamy Downey

Where can I find a committed man?
SIRI wondered aloud

Thus spake Swamy Downey
*Mental hospital
A bishop from other town
Was moving in this one
As Swamy Downey lived

Son, what's the path
That leads to the church
Asked he, stopping
Swamy Downey

Go straight
And take the second left
Go straight and
Take the third right.
At the dead end
Is the church
You asked for
Replied Swamy Downey

Showing gratitude
The bishop said
Come to the church
Tomorrow
Son.
I'll show you the path to heaven
As a token of gratitude

Thus spake Swamy Downey
You no know the path
To the church
Then how can you guide me
*To the path of heaven?
Dedicated to our Raj Arumugam

Based on a joke heard long before
There is no such thing
As free lunch
Said Swamy Downey

And
There is no such thing
As free server
SIRI said

Wise girl
Swamy Downey approved
Don't wear
Your heart
On the sleeve
It won't survive
Out of place
Says Swamy Downey

Heart is not a watch
Replied SIRI

Thus Spake Swamy Downey
But you gotta watch it
With all your love
Else.........
You android
Android is a human resembling robot. It has everything except heart

A Swamy Downey Vs SIRI poem
The girl's beautiful's
Not enough
Gotta check
if she suits me or not
Says Swamy Downey

Is she (a) cloth?
Wondered SIRI
Audibly
SIRI: Apple's SIRI, the voice assistant on the iPhones
Remember,
The right time is
Right now - Swamy Downey
10 words including Swamy Downey ;-)
Nobody'll miss you
If you leave this world
Said SIRI haughtily

Yea right.
But none forgets me
Replied Swamy Downey
Nonchalantly
Cjf Jul 2018
The harder I fall the more I fall away
It's self preservation at its finest
But why do I want to fall from the one who loves me?
We're at a cliff and I'm hanging on with one hand
and he's at the top begging me to not let go
It's temptation it's fear
It's a lifetime of leaving before I'm left
It's a lifetime of leaving blame on everyone else
It's a lifetime of loving so hard my heart can't handle it
But he assures me he can shoulder the weight of my burdens
My past, my present, and future
It's trust he's trying to hand me and that my hand can't reach for because it wants to let go
And go and go and fall and drop
It wants to reach out for him and pull him closer to me and with me.
I want him on top and on bottom and I want him near and away
But my body betrays me and the magnetic force is always trying to turn the opposite direction so we can't click together
I don't know why I am the way I am and I don't want to be me sometimes
Which came first?
Kodfather questioned
Feeling
Philosophically intelligent
An egg or a chick?

A circle has
Swamy Downey replied
Nonchalantly
No beginning
Earth has latitudes
And I have attitude right?
Inevitable
You'll know the reason for this Haiku in Swamy Downey Begins series
Swamy Downey was passing by
The table where SIRI was lecturing about love
To her friends on a meal

Suddenly,

You know why
Love is said to be the positive force?
Asked Swamy Downey

Because people buy iPhones
For the love of Apple
Replied SIRI Haughtily

Thus spake Swamy Downey
Love is composed of light
It lights up the souls
It removes darkness
When darkness disappears
*You can see the right path
Inspired by a poem by Deborah Gregory, our HP friend

Swamy Downey Vs SIRI VII
Tens now times along
Lived a mother
With her two kids
A widow

Two kids
One a boy
And one a girl

The boy was four
And the girl two

She works hard
To meet the ends
And keep the kids
Clean and Green

One day
The poor mother
Bought
Two apples
Saving money
From her meager earnings
And gave her kids

Kodfather, the boy
Ate his apple
And Rose, the daughter
(was) Playing with it

Then Kodfather said
To his little sister
Shall we play a game?

Innocent she was
Delighted
With her brother's proposal
She asked
What game?

Let's play *
Adam and Eve

The mother
Who was cooking
In the corner
Turned with a jolt
Her eyes wide

How to play?
Asked little Rose

You tempt me
And I'll eat the apple
Game's finnis

He's the one
Mother thought
You know who
A Downey must come
To save the world
Let's trace the origin story of Swamy Downey
My papa is great
Said his girl friend
For the umpteenth time.

Yea, said Swamy Downey
I know of a great man.
He lights up a room
when he leaves it.
And incidentally
He's my girl friend's father
When will you be back
SIRI asked Swamy Downey

Going was he
For an Interstellar ride
In a spaceship
To find Unknown lands

I'll be back dear
Swamy Downey kissed her
By the time you forget me

NO
SIRI exclaimed
For Love runs through my veins*
Tears rolling down her eyes
To **Christopher Nolan** and his film *Interstellar*

Swamy Downey Vs SIRI - VI
Amy Perry Aug 2018
The best I can achieve
To loving you
Again
Is a half-hearted glance
At your heart.
The beating, ****** *****
So pompous in its origin
To feel the twinges of desire
And the throat, so clear
And so precise
To tell me how
You’d think I’d be perfectly wonderful
And nice.
And did I prove you wrong?
Or did I do anything at all
To express my adoration,
Besides tell you pretty silvery things,
Word soup on a platter,
And cutting fierce glances
Across an otherwise empty room?
Did I do anything
To prove love
Even to myself?
Besides take a train
To LA,
To find, of all things,
An ugly field
Where I knew I would meet myself
In disarray?
Did I do anything
Ever
To surpass spirit and *****
Or am I just going
To be the one
That always wanted you
In darkness and in light?
Did I do anything but dream
The whole unending,
Maddening
Night?
abp 08/25/18
I assume you once danced the Cabaret
By how you strut your Flexi-Form abroad
This I figure on weeks-by-two per se
The Ardent Friend your Fervour can behold
T'was the Charm which every Fruit can discuss
And win many Smiles for a Pint or Ink
Telling us flat, Life can take us that Far,
In a Bus run by Monday's Downey Sink
Was it wrong to know the Inner-Woman-You
That Principle so many Thinkers deny:
"******-Hub! Buck-Forth! Lev, Lev, Lub, Lub, Le, Loo!
Then Drink your Bub-Clouds to Barrels on high!"
Nah, Forgive my Fishes, Sir! I bestate
You're one Sav Foretainer - Dance with me, Mate!
#rustyrockets
An aye
For an aye
Makes the world
Heaven
This is an Instrument a Verser must have
Without it, we cannot Write with Love.


This Tool, yet so small
Does so many for All.


Ink-Filled Skinney,
With a ball-soaked head.
Passing-out stains of Blue Blood
And creating Words which Read.


People throughout Literacy
Seek for this Sword.
To furnish their own Feelings
And Bsuiness in the Ring.


It all started,
With a large, downey feather
From the Swan's sacrifice,
Dipping the tip with sticky paint,
And scribbling onto leather.


Paper, in progression, was its Factor
Then came the Fountain - Civil Man's writing major.


This Pen does well
And so does much.
Ink goes up,
Goes down,
Though still plans to Blot.


However it may be,
How the Ball-Point was born.
"This is way Better!" People would say
And now - the New Century - is still
Used today.


And because of it,
Production was born
In Business, Literary and most
Of all - Journalism
Was so Progressive.


And so this ends,
This Tale of the Happy Ballpen.
Of Friend's in-take,
Which is needed much in the Open.
Who do you think you are?
Said the Kodfather
In a derisive tone.

Me?
One of the greatest brains
In the world
Since 1950
Replied Swamy Downey.

Then
What about the other parts
Of your body*
Questioned the Kodfather

With a wicked smile
This is a back story of sorts

To know about Kodfather, http://hellopoetry.com/poem/905459/swamy-downey-begins/ check that poem

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/918781/the-judgment/

The above link is Swamy Downey Begins - II
Swamy Downey Begins - III
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
all this en masse... gravity toward...
"sanity" and sobriety...

well... it's the nicety of giving /
stating compliments...

if only there was less
fertile ground:
to make one's arguments for...

if the united kingdom
was more akin to... iceland...

             i drink...
  and that gives me hope
in my original venture:
h'america signed a plot
line division:
to abhor the liquid...

for it brought nothing but ill...
constipated abolitionists...
whiskey frankenstein's
monster's fire: bad... mantra...

in that:
the perverted persuasion
tactic of the... limited sober...
sane... the... cream / rather not:
the creep of the crop...
and this is... somehow...
the **** worthy of harvesting?

one ghost... limping...
dead loitering limb...
a foot... for that crazed
ballerina...
then a jargon of a hand
missing... ghost reading
of braille...
             as one does:
when one's elbow
arrives on the scene...
with... robert downey jr.
and tommy lee jones...

then again... ask...
what is... homogeneity...
to the... russians...
                    sweep-stake
the concept of mongol and orc...
somehow: the old east...
is the new south...
you have an imploded "problem"...
you allow it...
all the circus rights of a democratic
load and loot and allowance...

those... whitey...
masochistic chant-lords...
are no good to begin: governing:
anew...

i hear one more ref. to 1984...
i swear to god...
i'll start the **** book burning
fiasco...
              that's all that's ever recited
these days...
it's not the monolith of the bible
recitation...
it's 1984...
it's not even: homage to catalonia...
it's not even...
the stranger by albert camus...
it's this... fixation on:
this was necessarily true...
it had to be necessarily true:
since... we ensured that it be...
necessarily true!

         brave new world
and 1984: sometimes known as...
the works of prophet isaiah...
and malachi...
or some bogus first choice answers...

it's not like charles dickens...
the pickwick papers are to be cited...
no... ray bradbury's
          fahrenheit 451...
     or "we" by yevgeny zamyatin...
is no... one...
to cite... from...
the master and margarita...
mikhail bulgakov -
then again... again... again...
       he, of our own...
that was always right...
and we... of his own...
dumb enough... to have...
         walked... into his...
prediction... and... gloated at it...
when... walking into it...
**** y'ay: brovado!

          it's one scrutiny to...
blind time with all the omnipresence
of open space...
that there is a future:
you'll forgive me: there isn't one...
it's all... kiss and kick
a donkey with a whipping:
blind... then... fish one out...
for the royal ascot...
with an imaginary carrot...
the stick doesn't mind...
whether it be imaginary:
or detailed...

                  but as long as someone...
somewhere...
    is reading an alternative...
not some... thought-fulfilling gravity
of consorts and bitter bitten knees
with more than mere...
masochism of kneeling on pebbles...
there's the... kneeling...
and the exposed calf... and biting riddles
of... the demon with a name akin
to belzeebub! the one associated
with minding mosquitos!

     sayz who?

that these... people... are well verse...
they cite 1984 by george orwell...
like they might cite the *******
quran...
         because: hey presto!
something is real!
they adore... the past...
catching up to the present...
and the present being
devoid of a future...
who aren't the people...
already drunk from...
something in the past...
   coming true?!

      of fruit:
the U.B.D. the B.B.D.
and the S.B.D.
  i love those acronyms as much as i love...
that... affair with the acronym of...
the idea of USA... prior to...
   the louisiana purchase...
                     that little affair of
anglo-dutch proto-germanicus...
maine... new england...
all that fuzzy jazz and... smog...
and lost clue... for: dreamland of
lingering horror...

  so said the sober and "sane" people...
that sanity of the blah of the herd...
well... yeah...
h'america and probihition...
one of those... moon-milking
nation of narratives...
              how science-fiction was
always to eclipse the science itself.
I know everyone
In the town
Said the Big Brother

But everyone
Knows me*
Replied
Swamy Downey
Nonchalantly
Swamy Downey - V
Kim Keith Sep 2010
Hands that look sunburned
at first blush
count the silent ticks of a cognitive clock
grasping and releasing in stilted syncopation:
one-two-three-five (must avoid the four)
Did I remember to lock the front door?  Out
of bed—again—freezing feet tumble
down
     into slippers
awaiting the circular inevitability.  Again, again.  

Pad, pad, pad:
light shuffling accompanies the one-two-three-five
pounding in the head; that mind ricocheted with worry—
worry about the front door, the evil intentions of four,
insidious germs and subsequent scrubbing-scrubbing-scrubbing
in bleach and Comet.  Pad,

pad, pad to the front door.
It’s one hundred and thirty four steps, so take a baby-shuffle:
still avoiding the four.
Cold, unyielding brass ****.  Locked.

Deadbolt? Check.  Creeping black.
Chain lock?  Check.  Crawling germs.  Oh, god.

Pad, pad, pad to the kitchen.
Clorox-fume greetings in the sparkling sink
from twenty-three minutes before.  Never twenty-four.
Clorox on the cracked fingers, blistering
out that imperceptible blackness I know it’s there
blackness choking, bleeding in the bleach.

Scrub brushes, pumice, and fingernail files
wear down the nubs where the blackness may hide.
“Shh” the steaming water soothes
as it stings, scalds.  “Shh.”  Burn it all out;
conclusion so comforting.  So predictably round.

This is the last time I can do this tonight.  Pad, pad, pad
back to the bedroom.  Downey quilt beckons in lover tones,
pleading pillows nudge against that head, that infernal head
still panicking amongst the softness:
*Did I remember to lock the front door?
First Published by: amphibi.us--  http://amphibi.us/all/obsession/
Waited seventeen years
For a life changing moment
Until i realized i was
Meant to change the world
And the world was never meant to change me
neth jones Apr 2022
His :

i make my travel
reseeding you
                my dear heart
                      into a compact unit of storage

i relieve from our nesting comfort
dismiss our established downey base of cooperation
                                   cleave from our snared compromise

instead to bed and thieve an unshared atmosphere
guilty joy followed by joyful normality
no stale thing

unravelling light
  lifted
(secure
  that I've a capsule world
  when i turn
  toward our lap again)

goodbye of you i am mended
made completely free
                    on the first turn of a corner


& Hers :

you leave me
      on your travels (you-were-my-travels)
you leave me susceptible
my heart alters to become
       a weak permeable tissue of easy tamper
       membership structure is dissolved
         returned to the vital spill
           welcome fluent contamination
               villainess and godless vibration
                  of the goddess confession

dress hooked up past my waist
i'll power-**** away my morality on day one
each day following shall be made easy
  ushered along in brutalities slip steam
                        and the prom of eddies

back in time i've been working on something..
       i'll call it The ****** List
criminal joys and tasks of double self daring
committed
     (not folded over
       or veloped in the knicker drawer)
           it operates as a basking lurk
                               tucked discreetly
                                 correct behind the eye
                      a charm feature of the unconscious
when released
   it's something melkish and larking with energy
   tacking harm to my activated mischief
      kinetic value and uncontrollable spur

in your absence
     i am permissionless
abyssless
i account for nothing

nooks of the apartment
the memory of us quickly forms a ***** coral
i've stopped washing to suit this mode
my body, a journal of stains and earned bruises
i holla and bay at mementoes of our brace
and then stop at the near point of the neighbours tolerance

time has crushed in on its own thesis
become gummy and tenseless
skipping about in haphazard spasms
  backstep, bow and reversal
     now
          observably organic in motion
           and proud of its many personalities

Oh, You're Back Again !
    no, it is your ghost
is it a spy ? ... i doubt you knew you even had it
it threads in and out of my company
seeming baffled and far from its comfort zone
did i put you there ?
i don't call you
the physical you
because you said 'no phones'
              and 'only in emergencies' (is-this-urgent ?)
Is This Urgent ?!
i restrict where i live in here
     keep the windows widowed and veiled
it makes for an unreal canvas
i'm weeding for a correction
sensual precarious highs
violate
in a spate
with this time alone
i'll make our home a vile space
a defication
and i can make no sense assessment of it any
i fight against digestion within these premises
i stay still long enough i am softened and palped
            by a dense atmosphere and salivations of contact
and outside..

the streets are exhausted
and i've quite the nasty reputation
violence, baiting and thievery
inebriation and toxic language
i shall soon be policed
no doubt i've lost my job
for now our place is a dare for vandals
             when i am an insensible heap
                 and perspiring over you in delirium
                    they devalue the exterior

unearthing
i'll find my creative sprite
that is good
i had missed it
now this is urgent (this-is-mine-was-always)
i take up a notebook and puke it full
i take sticks in my mitt and scrawl my charcoal visions
the blood visions
   the primal mud
  on all our walls

can i piece back our home by your return ?
can I sufficiently correct the blurring history I've smutted ?
do i care to ?
no more fading into 'partner'
lease is up
you'll not find me here destroyed
or waiting
    naked but an apron with my hands cupped and mouth open
i'll have ravelled myself up tight
- having stoked my inhuman malady -
     i'll mate my own travels

                                                        ­             - aborted
Semerian Perez Aug 2012
Snow softly falls
Forming a white downey blanket
Upon the cold ground
Where it finds a woman
Looking down
Upon a single tombstone
She weeps
Like she has done
For 5 long years.

Her loving husband rested there
Cradled in the earth
Along side her daughter
Who barely had begun her life
Now rested with her father
Un aware of the dark
That lurked in the world.

In her hands
She held 4 roses.
Each red and lush
Full of life unlike her heart
Which cries infinite tears.

Her world shattered
In an instant
As the truck hit the car
Claiming the fathers life
The daughter singing in the back
Now screamed as the car rolled
Until it stopped
And silenced her forever

She placed the roses on the stone
Gently in the soft downy snow
One day she would join them
But until then
She would visit
Everyday
And carry roses
Into
The cryptic,
cold place.
The only color
That mirror imaged her inside
Her lost heart
Mirrored by
The Gothic Rose.
After great war
Comes great peace
Says SIRI
In her
Intellectual musings

Ayes
Agreed Swamy Downey
Not piece
But pieces
Of many
Bodies
Of wasted lives
Swamy Downey Vs SIRI - V
Stone Swamy Downey to death
Roared the Kodfather
Amidst the mob
Hooded, stamping his feet on the ground.
Dust was flickering all over the air

He has
No fear
No pain
No guilt
Kodfather blasted out words.
He spat the cigarette **** out

His is a free mind
'T cannot be ruled
If he survives
We are doomed
Took the mouse from the plate before him
Cut its head with a scissors.

Blood pouring from
the innocent creature's remains
'T was dropped

Assassinate his character
That's enough of an excuse
This is a back story of sorts

To know about Kodfather, http://hellopoetry.com/poem/905459/swamy-downey-begins/ check that poem

Swamy Downey Begins - II
g clair Sep 2013
Snuggled in Downey, five-hundred thread county, creating,
in brushed cotton flannel she's sewn his panels, he's waiting
when down in the subway he sits on a nail
and jumping up, empties his cup on the rail
the coppers subdue him, and drag him to jail, parading.

Stripped to the drawers for a search they discovered the flannel
panel
when asked of the man who had frozen his can in the English
channel
he gave them the name of his seamstress and then
discovered that inside the panel was penned,
a note from the woman who goes by Sangwen de Lemanel:

"If you find this it means you have bust loose the seams of your winsulation
come back to my shack, I'll be happy to tack without hintsulation
of course, if by chance, you'd be wanting some scones
while I fix up your pants, you can warm up your bones
and I'll double the thickness and strength for your own consolation".

Though the note in the pants, at a glance, hardly worth the debating
somewhat cryptic in places, suggested the seamstress was dating
could it be that this maiden with needle and thread
was hiding an inmate who'd recently fled
it was suspect, her stitch-work, a cover: abetting and aiding.

Intent upon solving the case of the note in the panel
Sherlock Dannel rode down to the seamstress and brought her some flannel
"I've sewn quilts, without guilt, for the queen, rest her soul,
and the king wore my hats, though his head had a hole
but the rest of my work will attest to my innocence, Dannel".

And Sherlock, so taken with Sangwen, whose voice was sedating
missed the gist of her kiss, but the point of this pistol elating
"See I'm really quite good with a needle and thread
but in cases left traces of blood on the dead
when my needles were shed from drawers of the bores who were waiting."

The man was immersed, but well versed in the curse of the smitten
he saw that this seamstress was shrewd and her verses well written
and hiding her needles and notes could avail
in busting loose criminals down at the jail
and if he had his way, on this day, in the pen she'd be knittin'
Stone Swamy Downey to death
Roared the Kodfather
Amidst the mob
Hooded, stamping his feet on the ground.
Dust was flickering all over the air

He has
No fear
No pain
No guilt
Kodfather blasted out words.
He spat the cigarette **** out

His is a free mind
'T cannot be ruled
If he survives
We are doomed
Took the mouse from the plate before him
Cut its head with a scissors.

Blood pouring from
the innocent creature's remains
'T was dropped

Assassinate his character
That's enough of an excuse
Wasted Lives
*****
Swamy Downey Vs SIRI - V

After great war
Comes great peace
Says SIRI
In her
Intellectual musings

Ayes
Agreed Swamy Downey
Not piece
But pieces
Of many
Bodies
Of wasted lives
Persistent fever
And a hole in my pallette
God save me from this awful habit

Shy away
The beast will come another day
Maybe you won't believe the lie
It's not even a high

But in my warped mind
A lens of vision only on me
I've always been intrigued
With publicized insanity

I want to be the shooting star
Red carpet
Robert Downey Jr eyes
On a ****** not even fit for
Heath Ledger

I want to disengrate in the sky
A slow public suicide
Blame it on gravity
It's homocide

It seems some can escape mortality
And become grand deities
In the mind of humble losers

But I know its not my life
No spectacle too see
The only one who watches
Is me
Butch Decatoria Dec 2015
OCEAN

Her bright irises
blue Mariana Trenches
weeps deep Pacific.


SEA-HORSE

Pregnant father sways
rocking chair to oceans' gait
champions patience's race.


LOTUS FLOWER

Morning-star-burst-bloom
floral crown on tranquil lake
she walks on water.

BUTTERFLY

A dangerous thing:
inspiration's fragile wings.
Metamorphosis.


METEOR SHOWER

Friday night space lights
as we caress the hours,
streaks across the sky.


TAI CHI

Dawn's ceremony.
Wet grass tickling bare feet,
wave away the night.


WINTER GIFT

Downey skin so white
like a cold glass of fresh milk,
unwrapping Christmas.


STAINED GLASS

Broken pieces shape
the cathedral of your soul,
stained light still shines true.
Maybe a couple of these are questionable as haiku, possibly more like senryu, just hope you all enjoy them.
Matt Jun 2015
We are all the same
We are all one

Some lame Youtube ad

Narrated by Robert Downey Jr.

Sorry, we are all not all the same

Human beings share many things in common

And though most people want

Similar things out of life

There are evil people who do terrible things

What about the ISIS fighters
Who blocked
The dam
So the people can't get water?

I am not like them
Neither are you Robert Downey Jr.

I am not like them.  I am good.

Don't try to tell me that all of humanity is one.

If all of humanity respected and loved each other

If we were all "one" then we wouldn't have
Terrible wars and conflicts, etc. each day

I wish this weren't the case
But this is the way it has always been on earth.
Dany The Girl Aug 2017
Khloe.
You've got the sweetest smile I have ever seen.
You have blond hair like I did when I was 2.
You have the bluest eyes in the whole world, and I hope they stay that way.
I want you to know that you look more like I do than the rest
of your siblings.
Your mom told me once that you'll never
be as pretty as Kendal or Kaylie,
because you look more like dad and I.
You're so shy, and timid.
That's not a bad thing; it means you wont get into very much trouble.
For how much your mom calls you stupid,
you're actually pretty smart for a two year old.
You get your brains from me.
You're beautiful.
You'll always be beautiful to me.
Be proud of who you are, little sister.
I want you to know that I love you, and I will always love you
with all of my heart.
I don't know when I'll see you again.
Your mom and dad made it pretty clear that I am not a part of the Downey family anymore.
And if that remains true,
maybe someone will tell you that not one of your
sisters love you like I do.
I'm gonna miss you out here, Khloe.
I hope that when you're older you'll remember me and find me.
That you wont be mad that I missed out on so many
years of your life.
I hope that when you're ready, or if you even want to,
you'll come find me and then we'll talk.
But for now, I have to keep my distance from your family.
So I wont be seeing you at all.
And it's extremely painful and my heart breaks a little more everyday.
But I know that it's for the best for me and maybe even for you.
Who am I kidding? It's what's best for your mom,
but we wont tell her that.
I love you, little sister.
I hope to see you sooner rather than later.
Love,
Your oldest sister, Jordyn.
The pain is unimaginable to those who do not understand what it's like to lose your family.
Philosophy. Elegance. Yet Sense un-done
That Time-by-Time those Bantered ***** retweet
Which - by Fair - smoke these Elements become
Breathe Conscience into Sage; And thus we meet
If only should your Fresh Convention wear
Prune these Forceps to your Young Tridents fixed
At least a Wee - and a Wee bit of hear
Some Owl's Downey Feathers make to your Mix
And what I offer - if Offer be Creed
My Base Mortal Template bound to Annoy
Was simply to Watch; And respond to your Need
Though my Voice un-qualify to your Ploy.
At least I Tried. Though surpass Dimension
Usurper I be; Though Honest Intention.
#will_daley #benjdaley
Charles Sturies Mar 2017
Drea De Mattea
Kathy Matea
See they're both in entertainment
Michael Jordan
Morton Downey
Get it both of their opinions are respected
Seymour Gross the decadent businessman with his two sons -
Greg and Seymour, Jr. Get it - Seymour
Someone put of Mad Magazine's Greg
and Ex-Chicago Cubs player- (He got famous at it.)
decadence, I mean, and Junior Gross -
We're all getting really tired of real decadent types
like his father and Greg. - I'm just being facetious about
the bloodline connection. What, are they both adopted and just
copies of it?
And Seymour's morals are especially refreshing
compared to his faults.
Loretta Lynn
Brenda Lee
Two gifted singers
Eisenhower and MacArthur
2 great West painters
etc., etc.,
You get the picture.
Butch Decatoria Dec 2016
ROAD
          Where choices begin;
          Some are quick to find its end.
          Wise keep journeying.

CARPOOLING
          The heavy traffic
          An ocean's slow ebbing tide
          Our patience drowns in.

METEOR SHOWER
          Friday night space-lights
          As we caress the hours
          Streaks across the sky.

STAINED GLASS
          Broken pieces shapes
          The Cathedral of one's soul.
          Stained light still shines true.

TAI CHI
          Dawn's ceremony
          Wet grass tickling bare feet.
          Wave away the night.

FRACKING
           Jonesy punctures black
          Points in caves, Great Mother weeps
          Wells of poison rain.

NIJINSKY
          So divine his grace
          Words not made to embody
          Ballet when God speaks.

MY WINTER GIFT
         Skin so Downey white,
         Like a cold glass of fresh milk.
         Unwrapping Christmas.

FRENCH KISS
          Such buttery lips
          Silken creams,  wrapping our tongues.
          Sweet patisserie.

VATTO
          Gang signs, ink, and blood.
          ****** in a low Beamer.
          Cool kissing his gun.

ROSARIES
          Madre genuflects
          In brown countries of her hands
          Old beads, sweat, and faith.

DRIVE THRU WEDDING
          Romance thru sunroofs
          Hallelujah honeymoons
          Marriage number two.

HOT TIN ROOFS
          A light Summer breeze
          Cools cacophonous bodies
          like hot stars at night.

NOSTRADAMUS
          Doomsday Soothsayer.
          His visions doth entertain
          Medieval profits.

CHINA
          Man's golden lotus.
          A wealth of divine knowledge.
          Heavenly on Earth.

FIREWORKS
           Our toast to Heaven.
           Chrysanthemums igniting
           The night's colbalt sky.

ORIGAMI
           The creases of us
           Tales of dragons and white ships.
           Neatly folded sheets.

BON VOYAGE
           Like wide sails that cup
           The high winds of this marriage,
           I'm at love's mercy...

OSMOSIS
          Blossoms in spring time.
          Bursts of Japanese kisses.
          How to love haiku.

HOMONCULUS
           Ultrasound preform
           Whose quickened heart is my own:
           A mandragora.

12 STEPS**
           Most Alcoholics
           Who drown in their own thirst know
           How deep "empty" hurts.

— The End —