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"gaffes" poems
Clumsy Gazelle Poem 10/??/2015 Dear Dad, The last time we spoke, was spent walking down the sidewalk together in some metropolitan area.  There was a tunnel up above, I guess we were in what you would call an underpass and a giant graffiti'd dumpster was awaiting our passage.  You pulled on my arm with strong resolve and guided me into the street, as if the cars would dissolve in front of us as we inched farther away with our feet.  I felt like a modern day Moses, it was magical.  Once we reached the other side of the Chevrolet sea, you pointed out to me that our sudden death match with the traffic was a tactical maneuver.  There was a gang operation being run no sooner than just beyond the trash bin... I woke up from that dream and immediately knew what could have happened. I took a trip to Chicago this summer, the first of its kind.  I felt like you were watching over me, keeping me safe the entire time. I can't recall too many words you've said to me, but I have quite a few for you.  Like to start, here's two.  I'm gay.  I wonder all the time, if maybe you already knew.  You always called me by the nickname Cool.  You told my mom that when I grow up I would be a ******* and a big drinker too.  You got one-and-a-half of those right.   I inherited your hair and your goofy smile too.  Neither of those are all that great, but I guess they'll have to do.  I've heard the story from your poker pals about the time you won at pool.  You got up on the table and in your most graceful pose and poise, the pool stick struck, and as the 8 ball sunk, gravity grabbed and you fell.  Once you stood up, you addressed the **** up and said, "Like a gazelle."     I've made my own leaps too, but every gazelle has its gaffes.  I've fallen in front of friends but made it out of every situation's extremes. It seems that when gravity pulls me down, all I can do is laugh. I'm glad I got that from you - I'd rather be a 'clumsy gazelle' than a 'graceful giraffe.'
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May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 7:32 PM UTC
Clumsy Gazelle
Clumsy Gazelle Poem 10/??/2015 Dear Dad, The last time we spoke, was spent walking down the sidewalk together in some metropolitan area.  There was a tunnel up above, I guess we were in what you would call an underpass and a giant graffiti'd dumpster was awaiting our passage.  You pulled on my arm with strong resolve and guided me into the street, as if the cars would dissolve in front of us as we inched farther away with our feet.  I felt like a modern day Moses, it was magical.  Once we reached the other side of the Chevrolet sea, you pointed out to me that our sudden death match with the traffic was a tactical maneuver.  There was a gang operation being run no sooner than just beyond the trash bin... I woke up from that dream and immediately knew what could have happened. I took a trip to Chicago this summer, the first of its kind.  I felt like you were watching over me, keeping me safe the entire time. I can't recall too many words you've said to me, but I have quite a few for you.  Like to start, here's two.  I'm gay.  I wonder all the time, if maybe you already knew.  You always called me by the nickname Cool.  You told my mom that when I grow up I would be a ******* and a big drinker too.  You got one-and-a-half of those right.   I inherited your hair and your goofy smile too.  Neither of those are all that great, but I guess they'll have to do.  I've heard the story from your poker pals about the time you won at pool.  You got up on the table and in your most graceful pose and poise, the pool stick struck, and as the 8 ball sunk, gravity grabbed and you fell.  Once you stood up, you addressed the **** up and said, "Like a gazelle."     I've made my own leaps too, but every gazelle has its gaffes.  I've fallen in front of friends but made it out of every situation's extremes. It seems that when gravity pulls me down, all I can do is laugh. I'm glad I got that from you - I'd rather be a 'clumsy gazelle' than a 'graceful giraffe.'
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The congressman from Mars whose many gaffes Led to his drop in ratings at the poll, And whose awful decisions marred his role, Had found his explanation drowned in laughs. And following his footsteps and his paths The congressman from Venus bared his soul, Explained why his career has borne its toll, By drawing on his skin some stats and graphs. Because I'm green, the Martian dared to tell Constituents, that's why I'm hated so! Because I'm purple, the Venusian cried Unto an Earth whose races blended well To shades of black, and who have learned to know That gaffes behind a color can not hide. (C)2014, Christos Rigakos
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
Future Terran Politics
Why? Are we the generation of sinful doings? Are we the gaffes of the other “moral people”? You live in a world where parents assume that you are possessed simply because you’re uncommon. Because you’re wrong … to them. How can you ever be yourself in a world where everything else is stupid? I am possessed they say, I am sneaky, I am a deceiver, I am the devil itself. But why? Is it so wrong to ask? … Why? Why is the world so furious at me? Why is it that every time you follow your heart and beliefs you are called those names? A devil, a horrible person, one that must be sealed and kept away to defend the minds of those “moral ones”. I want all the colors in the world, I want faults, and I want sin. For I am the devil itself, and my worst sin is being this … a woman. A woman with sins is much worse than a man with sins. For sin is made only for men, or those who has no one to be judged. Is it really our sins that we defend? Or is it our yearning for being? Is it the sin that we judge? Or is it the sinner? Or is it the way we look at them? Is it even worth calling a sin? Or is it we who give it this gigantic name? Are we so fated to be sinners and must be rebuked until the day we become pure human beings? For in this world, a sinner and a human are much parted than a pure human’s imaginings can ever reach.
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
sin obsession.
Smoke rises thick and strange liplocking a joint, my hand gently caressing his thigh, I'm high. Haze, daze, kaleidoscopic vision and a million ways of looking at life. Heart race. Touch the air, taste the lights blips of conversations picture not in whole i remember words, feelings, lies, bloodshot eyes, laughs, unforgivable social gaffes. Silence. distorted vision, emotional collision yellow, blue, red. Green. we're suddenly in bed warm flesh, breathing escalated damp sheets, whispered profanity euphoric chills, midnight treats. we crave the lights again, we want to feel the air, and we try, the smoke and the ceiling find embrace once again, it's late, we debate, and tessellate the night with pieces of our mind.   Fate. you talk to me, you tell me your secrets and I relate sun beams seep through the shades and glaze our bodies to rest, we hug them and lay side by side: I'm numb, you're oblivious, we're derezzed.
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
Night with Green
the dream he held for such a long time and that dream finally did materialize he presently sits in the seat of power yet his memory is seriously compromised the dream job requires a sharpness of mind oft he can't string the words of a sentence together his minders prepare carefully scripted notes for him to read anything he says that's extempore is full of gaffes the dreamer's dream will be a nightmare as citizens of the country are well awake to the old man's incoherent babble
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Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 6:39 PM UTC
Dream
It's the first day of the proverbial rest of my life, I'm a year older, a year wiser, I have my list of resolutions, hopes still tucked away. But how sad, I don't feel any wiser, I still feel the same. And yet, why can't I get these things done? How real, I let the drive of the gravy train cause more broken dreams, create even more pain. Oh weell, I'm not one to wallow in the proverbial mire, but it does seem, I waste alot of my precious-time looking at these wise-proverbs for my answers. Why does feel like I always look for wisdom in someone else's life of mess-ups & gaffes? The reasons seem elusive, but I guess I can't waste any more time lying here alone thinking about it. guess I can't take life too seriously. I have to just laugh, puck myself up, seize the proverbial one less day & use whatever time I got left to live whatever dreams I got left.
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Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
Whatever Time I Got Left (To Live Dreams)
Lawrence Hall [email protected] Poeticdrivel.blogspot.com Logosophiamag.com Hellopoetry.com Fellowshipandfairydust.com That Chinese Spy Balloon “Number Six is dead. Rover got him.” -Patrick McGoohan’s The Prisoner A spy balloon lurks over Montana And nobody seems to know what to do Against the intruder Top Guns launch themselves But only circle around it piteously They slink away, intimidated by a balloon That takes its pictures and samples with insolence Unmenaced by our Merovingian regime Generals bemedaled like Russian doormen Our leaders stumble over each other’s gaffes While in Shanghai the Politburo laughs
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Feb 3, 2023
Feb 3, 2023 at 1:01 PM UTC
That Chinese Spy Balloon - poem
unlike Biden an elephant has a good memory and all the elephants around the place won't forget Biden's unsatisfactory presidency the frequent blunders the omnipresent gaffes the manifold mistakes all stored in an elephant's memory bank and the history books will write this passage with letters large why did the voters allow an absent minded donkey to be in charge
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Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 6:18 PM UTC
Elephants
I had met an intellectual he said I was wrong but he never really wondered the reason I had for my song He went about finding my faults it seems that's what intellectuals do and I suppose the reason is to prove they're so much better than you Well he was so insecure with all the crap that he knew he began to nit-pic and the list of course grew I said go ahead speak your peace point out all of my gaffes make a fool of yourself while my friends and I laugh He then moved away his tail was tucked under but I'm sure he'll be back to point out my blunders So thankful I am for all the help that they give for with a good hearty laugh is the best way one should live
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
I Guess I Should Be Thankful
I’ve got a few things I want to say, A few thoughts rattling around in my brain, And though it may seem impolite, I’m going to give you a piece of my mind. I know I haven’t been around a long time, Just a decade and a half. However, I’ve still learned a thing or two, About this world filled with gaffes. This world’s a scary place, Full of scary people, And if you’re not careful, They’ll eat you alive, Chew you up, and spit you out, With no regard for your life or your health. We’re dancing in a fire, Of our own making, As people continue whining and complaining. We need saving, Oh, how we need saving. It’s ironic, How our greatest foe is ourselves, So much petty bickering, Chastises the thinking, Until we’re at a point where we can’t do anything. Who can you trust? Your neighbor could be just, Or a sociopath, Hiding behind a mask. Is everyone a friend? Or is everyone a foe? Or is there more nuance? How are we to know? Till it’s too late, And we’re beaten down, Lost everything, To a monster. Highschool’s a mess, No finesse, Filled with stress, And depression. On a quest, To reassess, And to suppress, All unnecessary emotions. Don’t want to sound too forlorn, But is it too much to ask to live in a world, Where everyday doesn’t feel like a chore, Just to push through? So much strife, All through life. Is it right, Or wrong? When does life, Become less about surviving, And more about living, In this crazy time? Seven hours, Seven different subjects, Piled onto a developing mind. Some unnecessary, Others are vital, Few are a waste of time. While everyone discovers their niche, A fight for survival, Some parts are primal, Survival of the fittest they say, It’s a shame that not everyone makes it out, To fight another day. To quote one of my favorite songs, By a man named Alec Benjamin, Titled “Gotta Be A Reason.” “There’s gotta be a reason that I’m here on Earth, Gotta be a reason for the dust and the dirt. Oh, the changing of the seasons never changed my hurt. So what’s it worth, what’s it worth?” I believe that things happen for a reason, Good or bad, Then you have to question, What the reason truly is? This world’s a crazy place, Full of crazy people, And if you’re not careful, They’ll eat you alive, Chew you up, and spit you out, With no regard for your life or your health. We’re dancing in a fire, Of our own making, And no amount of raining, Can drown out the whining and complaining. We need saving, Oh, how we need saving. So there you go, I opened up the vault, And gave you a sample, Of what’s inside my heart. Take it as you’d like, There’s not much more to say, That’s just how I feel, This specific day. I have a feeling of dread, As this year approaches its end. 2025. By mid-March, I’ll be able to drive. God, how time flies…
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Nov 9, 2024
Nov 9, 2024 at 4:36 PM UTC
A Piece of My Mind
I’ve got a few things I want to say, A few thoughts rattling around in my brain, And though it may seem impolite, I’m going to give you a piece of my mind. I know I haven’t been around a long time, Just a decade and a half. However, I’ve still learned a thing or two, About this world filled with gaffes. This world’s a scary place, Full of scary people, And if you’re not careful, They’ll eat you alive, Chew you up, and spit you out, With no regard for your life or your health. We’re dancing in a fire, Of our own making, As people continue whining and complaining. We need saving, Oh, how we need saving. It’s ironic, How our greatest foe is ourselves, So much petty bickering, Chastises the thinking, Until we’re at a point where we can’t do anything. Who can you trust? Your neighbor could be just, Or a sociopath, Hiding behind a mask. Is everyone a friend? Or is everyone a foe? Or is there more nuance? How are we to know? Till it’s too late, And we’re beaten down, Lost everything, To a monster. Highschool’s a mess, No finesse, Filled with stress, And depression. On a quest, To reassess, And to suppress, All unnecessary emotions. Don’t want to sound too forlorn, But is it too much to ask to live in a world, Where everyday doesn’t feel like a chore, Just to push through? So much strife, All through life. Is it right, Or wrong? When does life, Become less about surviving, And more about living, In this crazy time? Seven hours, Seven different subjects, Piled onto a developing mind. Some unnecessary, Others are vital, Few are a waste of time. While everyone discovers their niche, A fight for survival, Some parts are primal, Survival of the fittest they say, It’s a shame that not everyone makes it out, To fight another day. To quote one of my favorite songs, By a man named Alec Benjamin, Titled “Gotta Be A Reason.” “There’s gotta be a reason that I’m here on Earth, Gotta be a reason for the dust and the dirt. Oh, the changing of the seasons never changed my hurt. So what’s it worth, what’s it worth?” I believe that things happen for a reason, Good or bad, Then you have to question, What the reason truly is? This world’s a crazy place, Full of crazy people, And if you’re not careful, They’ll eat you alive, Chew you up, and spit you out, With no regard for your life or your health. We’re dancing in a fire, Of our own making, And no amount of raining, Can drown out the whining and complaining. We need saving, Oh, how we need saving. So there you go, I opened up the vault, And gave you a sample, Of what’s inside my heart. Take it as you’d like, There’s not much more to say, That’s just how I feel, This specific day. I have a feeling of dread, As this year approaches its end. 2025. By mid-March, I’ll be able to drive. God, how time flies…
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