"grapevine" poems
May we live in and see interesting times, the old saying goes
another offers that when the mind is blind, the eyes cannot see
for me my days are interesting and the laughter readily and often comes
for the grapes of wrath brings forth mirth filled grapes on grapevine tendrils
As lemmings and sheep enact bellyaching absurdities, as the ridiculous does
Veracity on sojourn and falsehood in residence with doors firmly closed
Hamlet re-enacts hapless role, with Red Robin Hood and vigilantes to a tee
eager audiences, participatory scenes in towns and cities, leaving empty homes
come all and vent your spleen and satiate your prejudices without paying a fee
This land belongs to us, it is our birthright and we will send Hamlet to the catacombs
Nothing is private anymore, rights and freedom nailed, anywhere we roam
Ophelia not only went to Italy, she went to Hull, Turnpike Lane and even Essex
but a joke here, if all these were good, why did she come to me, you simple gnomes
perchance unlike you common goons, she knows distinction has no comparison to thee
Your vacuous hate filled mind cannot see that difference in a Prince, that regally looms
Act two, dim, fooled actors in their Beggars Opera, screaming, 'we oppose' with glee
so called republicans, laughable in their ardent favor, ignorant of their lobotomy botches
we will do Hamlet's head in, totally unaware theirs been done in, for the brains of fleas
in a civilisation, our conscious and stable populace, roots for vigilante and mob rule, yeah
for a man of distinction is a threat reminding you of your insignificance and lack of tomes
Come friends, lets see how the home of Democracy, hounds a citizen for us all and we
lets know that Robin Hood is alive and taxing, and 'Windrush' is still active in dispatches
indigenous people power, meets criminal gang stalking, meets racism and we all drink tea
and in true cowardly fashion, its all done by insidious, indictable, nefarious, malcontents and psychopathic crazies
It is our proud duty that we should all ruin Hamlet, for mediocrity has no distinction for aspiration et excellence
Copyright LaurenceA. JUNE 2018.All rights reserved.
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 8:00 PM UTC
The artichoke
With a tender heart
Dressed up like a warrior,
Standing at attention, it built
A small helmet
Under its scales
It remained
Unshakeable,
By its side
The crazy vegetables
Uncurled
Their tendrills and leaf-crowns,
Throbbing bulbs,
In the sub-soil
The carrot
With its red mustaches
Was sleeping,
The grapevine
Hung out to dry its branches
Through which the wine will rise,
The cabbage
Dedicated itself
To trying on skirts,
The oregano
To perfuming the world,
And the sweet
Artichoke
There in the garden,
Dressed like a warrior,
Burnished
Like a proud
Pomegrante.
And one day
Side by side
In big wicker baskets
Walking through the market
To realize their dream
The artichoke army
In formation.
Never was it so military
Like on parade.
The men
In their white shirts
Among the vegetables
Were
The Marshals
Of the artichokes
Lines in close order
Command voices,
And the bang
Of a falling box.
But
Then
Maria
Comes
With her basket
She chooses
An artichoke,
She's not afraid of it.
She examines it, she observes it
Up against the light like it was an egg,
She buys it,
She mixes it up
In her handbag
With a pair of shoes
With a cabbage head and a
Bottle
Of vinegar
Until
She enters the kitchen
And submerges it in a ***
Thus ends
In peace
This career
Of the armed vegetable
Which is called an artichoke,
Then
Scale by scale,
We strip off
The delicacy
And eat
The peaceful mush
Of its green heart.
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Tender fruit, grapevine,
fleshy pulp waiting
inside,
marry me, be my bride.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 7:41 PM UTC
Forget me not as I find myself
Blind to the lies, my knowledge is my own true wealth
Dreams that I lay upon Orion's belt
Your heart is ice cold, passion will make it melt
Forget me not as I walk blind
Right part of the road, wrong side of the lines
Mother nature caresses me faithfully as I feel the wrath of Father Time
I search for clarity, but I cannot find
Squashed grapes on the ground of lies told through the life's grapevine
Forget me not as my heart endures life's maze
Guide me, Lord, through this very day
Spring my faith, like the gentle flowers of May
Tomorrow isn't promised, so all we can do is pray.
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 9:38 AM UTC
My heads pounding
My necks twisted amuck
think I'mma stop giving a ****
Light up a blunt and do what I want -
woah wait -
ain't that the **** that got me
here in the first place?
Worst case I nervously pace
the halls for a day - two or a weekend
Blasting the weeknd
Entire enviroment reeking
shrieking -
Nah -
I'm better than that.
Can't latch onto the past.
That's the trash that got
us there at the start - instead
I prepare it in art
And share from the heart, with you.
And you.
And you and you and you.
Because why not?
It helps forget about that pinebox looming-
Thinking outside the winebox lucid -
I mean Windex, clean em out
And a win decks, stacks paper chips
You can't say this isn't some matrix blips
I am not losing ****
I am manuevering this beautiful thing
up past this ******* Nuva Ring
Cause that's life - you can get beat
or keep it on a leash - jeez
that's sexist. I don't know
where this became an accepted
comparison, its embarrassing
comparing them - to K9's
But we hear it through the grapevine
Turns of phrase we make fine.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
Afraid to sleep,
we keep on working.
Afraid to sleep,
We meet the dawn
from either end.
When light comes,
its continuity calms us
and ancestors watch over us,
as we sleep in fits and starts.
Outside the kitchen door,
Señor Romero's own grapevine
says: "Buenos dias!", says
"Gracias a la vida!"
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
If I offer my kindness,
Accept it.
Embrace it.
Take care of it.
If you don't, someone else will.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
Yadda......yadda......yadda
he's dying of loneliness
Go listen to the news
They're Nine million people lonely in the country
You're all known for your coldness
Some don't even know their neighbours
You abandon your parents when they get old
Put them away in Retirement homes
when was the last time you saw your elderly mum
when was the last time you called your sister
Thank God for the GRASS being the scapegoat used by crooks
To illustrate community mobbing let us all gang up together
Now you're hugging the Asians and the blacks are your best friends
yadda......yadda......yadda
come join the club we are all mates now
against that outsider grass we welcome all
the ***** ******* are molesting women oh it's just
to make grass envious cause we've stopped him loving
talk to me I hate you no more because grass is more hated
no more bullying you just join us and help us harass that grass
don't trouble that foreign shopkeeper we now want him to join
welcome Muslim brothers and sisters come join us
we now like you cause we have somebody else to hate
hey Mr ugly come here for a hug just make sure its in front of grass
you my loner friend be lonely no more you are now a club member
you Somalian, you Ethopian, you chinese, you Ugandan no matter
everyone is friends no more hassle just hate the grass as much as us
yadda......yadda......yadda
this is politics we fool and fool you all
when we need you you are our best friends
we show you our commonality and bring you into the fold
just make sure you do as you're told and don't grass like grass
we will give you opportunities to make grass jealous
we will forge a grapevine from here to Kathmandu and beyond
we will teach you hate and poison your stinking minds
we will imprison you and make you our slaves to serve us
just make sure you give that grass a hard time and come for a prize
this is all our secret and your minds belongs to us gangstalking crew
make him lonely make him friendless and show viva democracy
You are all simpletons and that's how you will stay in our pockets
this is a union of morons by morons for morons and the crooks win
yadda......yadda......yadda
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 3:26 AM UTC
Life is a puzzle
That won't be solved
By the argument of your mind.
It can neither be cracked
In ivory towers
Nor in the parlors of grapevine.
The mystery of life
Crowns the benighted
With a twist of a wand
Leaving the enlightened
To commune with the dark.
At best, it is a glass enclosure
Attuning your moves
Along the belt of blessing
Beneath the shelter of stars
And at its worst,
A dungeon floor
Delineating your lot
In unbending reality
Under the dome of despair.
Exposed to eternal pumping
Of raw information,
Student of life knows
But a speck of curricula
At any given time
The process of life's lessons
Extends well beyond the grave
Not even multiple lifetimes
May suffice to scratch the surface
Let alone discover the core
Yet the student of life
Knows no limit
Goes to village today
And metropolis tomorrow
Mounts a mustang to Shangri-la
Hops on a boat to outland.
Tantamount to the amount of stars
Are pictures of life
Full of synonyms and antonyms
Boding inflections and reflections
Of thought, taste and bearing
In the academy of day-and-night.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
I stopped the car
to let the children down
where the streets end
in the sun
at the marsh edge
and the reeds begin
and there are small houses
facing the reeds
and the blue mist in the distance
with grapevine trellises
with grape clusters
small as strawberries
on the vines
and ditches
running springwater
that continue the gutters
with willows over them.
The reeds begin
like water at a shore
their pointed petals waving
dark green and light.
But blueflags are blossoming
in the reeds
which the children pluck
chattering in the reeds
high over their heads
which they part
with bare arms to appear
with fists of flowers
till in the air
there comes the smell
of calmus
from wet, gummy stalks.
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It was the early days of the organic food craze
and my wife, ever a slave to the latest fads
(which disposition sometimes benefitted me pleasurably
but mostly cost me dearly)
made me run on an errand
(like: “Fido – go, fetch!”)
to get some organic vegetables
and arriving, I blurted out to the produce guy, stumbling:
*“Some ****** for my wife”* –
and that wise guy, Oxford-educated as he was
(though a failed Professor, so ended up at the greengrocer’s)
he said: *“That you must induce or encourage in your wife, Sir;
I cannot and will not be of service in that connection.”*
And I slowed down and I said:
“Well, dear fellow – for my wife, have you any organic vegetables?”
And Oxford-educated as he was, he did not understand such fads
having mostly a sedate and Classical demeanour
and he pointed his most English nose to the air;
and so I attempted again to sensible-phrase my inquiry:
*“Are your vegetables -
and this I ask on account of my esteemed wife -
sprayed with poisonous chemicals?”*
And the Oxford guy apprehended now, and he pronounced:
*“Poisonous chemicals for your spouse
you must procure yourself, Sir”*
Now, that was an idea. I knew Oxford-educated guys
were smart in some way or other.
And since then I have been free of my wife.
I have no need to run on errands for no baby, no more;
though I do have to count bars,
limited as my numerical skills are,
as is my verbal proficiency.
And the Oxford guy, meanwhile, I have it from the grapevine,
has set up an ******** Food Chain Store*, worldwide;
I knew he’d go places, sooner or later, far and global
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
he had a voice that made her want to believe in eternity
she had a heart that made him want to believe in love
his mind has a secret garden bearing grapes
his words are butterflies kissing flowers
his thoughts derives from what passion brings
her body curves perfectly like a well crafted grapevine
her crown is the minds image
her beauty is light in a formless world
her body gave him life
his soul told her spirit to feel honesty from that hug
a hug warm like a summers evening.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 6:57 AM UTC
The grapevines have never been so silent,
but it is not the oil, or changing climate.
To hear its word, you must now be beside it.
Their messages once sung loud, merrily with joy,
but now go unheard by most girl and boy.
The words that find a way to meet our ears,
have never been so full of hopelessness and fears.
The grapevines eyes swell with tears.
It seems the grapevine would no longer like to share,
for the words they are sharing have lost the love and care.
The abundant grapevine forest,
now but a desert bare.
After all of the rumors have come to cease,
the grapevines sleep tonight in peace.
Together waiting for sun of tomorrows dawn,
they pray for new coming souls to bestow whispers upon.
Holding on to hope that new messages will spawn,
and lead to beautiful pictures being drawn.
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 6:37 PM UTC
Cicadas gather on the grapevine,
a mass of wings and vibrating abdomens.
Males call out to females
but it is the grey squirrels who answer,
chattering loudly as they feast on insect flesh.
I sip cold wine and tap my fingers
on thin glass, watching and waiting.
My phone buzzes next to me;
you, calling, again.
I ignore it and turn my gaze back to the feast.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 8:08 PM UTC
Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air
That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of—was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Down hill at dusk?
I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they’re gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle.
I craved strong sweets, but those
Seemed strong when I was young;
The petal of the rose
It was that stung.
Now no joy but lacks salt
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain
Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.
When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand,
The hurt is not enough:
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length.
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It’s pudding time.
Lose your thoughts
Let down your hair
And your bra
Tap into the electric grapevine
Let it transform you
Into your truest form
Shed your skin
&
Show off your soul
You don’t have to dance
On a phantom stripper pole
Feel the music, it feels back
The air is getting slippery
Melt with it
Wounded knee?
No reason to flee!
Face your fears,
The free and loving soul
Feels no shame
No shame - less pain,
Guaranteed;
or you're money back
But serenity is free
It's everywhere
Just breathe...
So kiss Mr. Krinkle
Right on the lips
And ******* dance
Cause it's pudding time.
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
Oh! Woe to the poor captivated lover
Being trapped in love, but beloved gone
Oh! The moment I'm sitting as tulip alone
In my heart's blood, she is gone as wind
The voice of ax didn't come from Bistoon
Shireen is gone to Farhad's dream tonight
Oh! I will inform you of my painful alas
The day my enormous patience finally gone
Pity lover that flew your grapevine hair
With a hundred hopes come, gone unhappy
I am happy you abandoned all my rivals
Although, you left me as fistful of soil to wind
Mountains and deserts are mournful tonight
Lovers as Majnoon and Farhad gone forever
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 1:40 AM UTC
I heard through the grapevine
The Gestapo are out tonight
Weaving their tapestry
Of violent sport and time
So I duck into alleys
********* my talisman
Praying for personal glory
A reordering of the cosmos
But all I get is an enigma
Enigma with mystique
I hear the chanteuse sing
It makes the colors bleed through
I heard through the grapevine
The star police are out tonight
Weaving their tapestry
Of karmic sport and time
So I duck into nightclubs
********* an eyeball glass
Praying for personal triumph
A reordering of the past
But all I get is an enigma
Enigma with mystique
I hear the chanteuse sing
It makes the colors bleed through
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 2:27 PM UTC
I'm bottling up all my feelings.
I know you noticed that,
I've been holding back,
There's something inside I'm concealing.
You put me on ice for no reason.
You make my heart stop,
When you pop my top,
I'm bubbling up to the ceiling
I think you know what I mean and,
You know I'm just teasing.
I can't keep it a secret
Grapevine, gettin' too seedy (juicy)
Overtime my soul is primed,
You're so divine
Intoxicating my sober mind
'Til I'm,
Ready to chill for the evening.
Strictly for the VIP
Tipsy when you lean on me
Lipsin' up we don't need a cup
It costs a lot but it's free
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 9:17 AM UTC
Sinking I'm sinking
With the every drop of rain
Falling from the sky
Reminds me again & again
Not off you oufcourse
But,off that time
The time we spent together
Underneath the grapevine
Soft touch of bunch of grapes
And,the valley of flowers
Alongwith the gentle breeze
Touching us like an eternal bliss
How can you forget?
How can I survive?
Without you
My Love
Even for a while!
Sinking I'm sinking
For rest of life
Into the world of dark
Far from divine
Please,be with me!
Or,rescue me at once
Otherwise,I've to bid 'Goodbye"
Forever..........
Sinking I'm sinking
Please,let me alive!!!-Written on 26.09.2012
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC
How do the vines of our secrets creep their way into the ears
of those we want most to protect?
It will never matter how I know, only that I know you are happy.
So for the love of truth if she makes you laugh I beg you to sing aloud- your joy is too contagious to ever tiptoe around. Not on my (closed) account. All I've ever wanted is to hear your spirit ring across this country.
Of course I love you, Bebe- Q.
(And I can say without doubt, I shall never have another Bebe-Q. What does that even mean?)
Of course I miss you.
I miss you like I would miss most of my major organs.
Painfully.
But if her light makes your heart photosynthesize so that your entire being blooms with life
-Please-
Be free. Let it grow.
The hardest gift I will ever give you is my blessing.
My love, I am letting you go.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
haven't you heard the buzz that,
the funny girl's dating the smart guy, and
aren't they cute, they've been friends forever,
but,
they're so sweet and
she's so artsy and adorable and
oh my god he's hilarious i love him
and, well
we all
saw it coming.
May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 8:36 PM UTC
Saw your pictures, Mom
the sadness in your eyes so calm
There was a minute when
I barely recognized your face
Shame on me
look in the mirror and see
your features have left a trace
Well your pictures look great
March 20th, 2013 was the date
An obituary photo shoot
how fabulously like you
Preparing for sad days ahead
planning like you’re already dead
Morningside Cemetery plot number six
another family member to add to the mix
Tombstone of granite
grapevine wrapped cross engraved on it
These conversations are sad but true
you only want less for me to do
I’m sorry because you love me so much
while I’m here in Chicago far out of touch
Call as much as you please
hearing your voice is the worst tease
I want to see your face now, hold you tight
please just know I'm doing alright.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 3:55 AM UTC
my purpose of those yearly vigils
was primarily
as an effort for Colton
to hear
through the grapevine
in one form
or another
that he was
not only
not forgotten
but that he was
extremely
well loved
and sincerely missed
and to show Colton
that whether his leaving was unintentional
as in
afraid to come home for missing curfew
and 1 day turned into 2,3,4
and by that time he may have felt
that he had painted himself
into a corner
and I wanted him to
not feel embarrassed
or humiliated
that this had gone on
as far as it had
because, hell, the whole world that knew him
or at least his family
and friends
were willing to have a party
and he was the guest of honor!!!!
No, it's not like
I ever had that fantasy
that in the middle of pizza
the first year
or grilled burgers
that last year
that he would come walking up
and join us
although it was a comforting story
we all let run through out minds
at least once
or twice
as we planned these events
ea September
although
my once upon a time story
usually had Colton
walking in the back door
as i'm doing dishes
(see, it really is a fairy tale)
and in typical Colton fashion
he tries to play it off
tries to play me
with a "Hi, Mom"
and act like nothing had happened
and I am torn between hugging him
and grounding him
But actually
I know I would have done
what I always did
to all of my children
whenever they came back from camp
or being with the other parent
or whenever
I had gone away
from them
for any length of time
was sniff their head
and get that scent of them
just like when they were babies
although teenage head is not the same smell
especially if they haven't washed their hair
it's a mom thang
(Did you kids know this
or was I slick when I did this)
Or had Colton purposely planned
his get away
in an effort to start a new identity
knowing in hindsight
just how horribly stressed he had been
with events occurring to him
at such a young age of 17
and it was bittersweet
to hear the new Shinedown tune
playing at that time
Second Chance
where the singer tells his parents
goodbye
and I wanted him to find out
that the Colton Ross Barrera
that he had tried
to leave behind
was still very much needed to come home
And at one time
it used to scare me
that my son ran away
because he hated me
now i am sad
that my son
hadn't
ran away
and now I know
he didn't leave
and that his life
was
taken
from him
and yearly candle light vigils
(I didn't even know for sure how to pronounce that word until 5 yrs ago)
are not going to bring him back
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 8:34 AM UTC