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CK Baker Jul 2017
they fell from a tolleycroft trawler
(about a mile off the gary dock)
tossed in a bottlenose gulf stream
partially pasted on ruk and crustacean
belly ******* ragged
fender bent rolling
drifting on krill chop
past o' malleys
down juan de fuca
rubbing grain
into the gun barrel sea

twisted benjamins
nipped by the hungry swell
blunt on a wayward log
deep in the gutty storm
slack jaw, skinned
medling
over phosphorescence
and grayling
and cold erratic flow
(oh those seedy finman!)

driftwood gorge
at celebration light
sun carts rise
to the homecoming
(**** that nuisance moon!)
crimson tide
and contraband
strung on the greyhound
intervention essentials
with menacing roots

these crackers lack
all disposition
and tact
an enemy mask
lies deep within
blinded rodmen
on a shoreline retreat
where the franklin bills
are spinning
Jarret M Spiler May 2014
We live in a society were the physical world shadows the metaphysical.
We live in a society were money precedes life.
Students are broke(n) like the loans that imprison them.
Death and taxes are inevitable, but it seems that taxes are more of a threat then death itself.
The greenback alludes us into becoming vicious consumers praying on the wealth of others.
We live in a society turned upside down. Broke(n).
and long since abandoned suitably
   casual to figuratively hack
an itch to be scratched, cuz social security -
   social anxiety did high jack -
qualification to received unearned income,
   boot aye and da missus lack

financial plenti tude, and oft times
   scrounging along the scrim edge line of life
   doth make me postulate to sever ties
   with the living courtesy of a big mack
truck, but that induces immediate revulsion,

   since that modus operandi
   would leave a messy track
thus, the follow ah share
   as this good humor man
   feigns bing out ta whack!

sum *** pull cull me a schmart ants
e'en though i lack an iPhone,
   five, but take
  a fox trot ting pooch cha cha chance
at let mooch hutch
   ah dog gone words dance
across the screen 4u 2 glance

and envision this chap
   to bow, wow and en-hance
springing sprightly
   like a human lance
hoping nada
   to get a rip in his pants
so...kick back n try
   to comprehend this bard *** rants.

GAINFUL EMPLOYMENT QUEST
sprinkled e'er so lightly with ra asp pea common
snazzy, snarky, snaky
non constricting boa tock nickle terms.
akin to a termite ex
   pending energy thru wood to bear

   bore ring search for income quite
   arduous, andslow as a bookworm
   burrowing some great literary tome
back the day, the slogging chore
unsatisfactory, thus, soon tubby sue pine
   wordsmith thought (in jest) to spruce quest per

   my non-conformist
   poetic je ne sais quois
   x cell lent cover letter de jour
for hue to access and me to entertain
   as a minimum less or more
and then...into circular
   filing cabinet ye will store
this non-formal reap ply,

   which email
   will take an cyberspace tour.
pixar could nada pay enough
   for this trainer
   of apple chomping antz
so i wonder if any chance
   whisker of employment

vis a vis thru
   this contrived virtual
   toy story qua ratatouille poetic brew
could materialize
   into a likely chance
such an idea generates me

   to shrek out with excite
   ment and dance
just in case a glimmer
   of some prospect exists
for self anointed bard,

   one who dislikes formality
now presents his technical skills
   which he hopes to enhance
p'raps e'en earn enough moolah
   to sight see the arc d'triumph,
   louvre, paris france

i offer the following poetic expression
   for ye to take a glance
and mebbe help
   this intuitive **** sapiens
   per his income
  to expand and en-hance
which byte size bit torrent humor
   might Putsch chew in a permanent trance

after misinterpreting this mishmash
   as some rave and rants
per even a part time need exists
   please let me share
   some positive stance
with subtle intent
   to place me as worth hiring,
to sway some au currant
   series electronic charge
and ideally affect hypnotic trance.

i betcha never chanced and to reddit
   perhaps you espied a similar post elsewear
   like this iambic pentameter electronic wire
from a boyish looking
   blood muggle father although up in years
(whose nonpareil courage
   to face Voldemort never does tire)
and two near grown girls,
   would consider him a worthy hire

less so to rake in gobs of moolah,
   but to satiate
   this unquenchable hunger and thirst
for further (ahem)
   bits of computer know how to acquire.
although this cover letter of sorts
   conveys teensy weensy, itty bitty
byte size actual work experience
(per this older mist ta lives a boot
   thirty plus miles

   northwest of philadelphia city)
nonetheless, i hanker
   (NOT to be confused with HACKER)
to employ my computer skills, plus bits of moxie
playing at nearby Roxy
burrow, which prompts the following ditty
to express interest to apply manual
   and mental rooted tasks
   ala computer trouble shooting
some ascribe passe or as nitty gritty

on a par with
   the secret life of one walter mitty
whom destiny protected and took pity
merely meant to be silly
yet also an attempt to be witty.
yes no matter how many miles by car
(actually your company might be within
   dead man walking distance)
this nectar savoring opportunity

   would not be considered to far
to use my acumen and interest
   and technologically spar
using graphical user interface programs
   to get unstuck from virtual soiled feathery tar.

iambic pentameter might be a faux pas
and not traditional standard
   genre for a cover letter
i see no reason with rhyme
   why non-conformist modus vivendi
cannot serve as modality

    communicate pursuit
as a computer repair technician go getter
which honest to stem -
   a grounded confession
hopefully affects grim prospects against
   other respondents at least a bit better.

this budding pure breed
   mud half blood muggle prince
born (whom most think me
   full o wart colored hogwash) - yea
truth seeker for employment
does reckon the following poetic way

devoid of employment vitae,
   since that would show a dearth
yet decided to resort to verse
   to induce a byte size mirth
of requisite (sought after)
   technical flowery expertise,
   i do possess the attributes well worth.
Marshal Gebbie Oct 2013
The cordons of existence are constricting
For the keepers of the dream have let us down,
Who will buy tomorrow if performances are hollow
Causing all the global spectators to frown?

American has been the silk pyjamas
Since ’45 they’ve lead the world’s display
In health and wealth and brandishing the muscle
But in recent times it seems they’ve seen their day.

For since Clinton’s time the National debt has spiralled
They’ve departed brushfire wars in disarray,
Default now looms obscene with disharmony supreme
With Congressional leaders ranting in the fray.

The fiasco of a Government held to ransom
By a faction of extremist’s from the right,
Whilst the greenback in decline won’t change water into wine
The dire threat of fiscal chaos causes fright.

So global confidence is fading in the dollar
And the watchers shake their heads in blank despair,
For the willingness to follow is now a bitter pill to swallow
When the USA’s rock steadiness aint’ there.

So, what’s around the corner for tomorrow?
What aspirants are waiting in the wings?
With a fading USA perhaps it’s China’s turn to play
Though that’s going to mean adjustments made to things.

Of course we’re venturing into territory’s unchartered
And the crystal ball consulted, isn’t clear
But one thing I can assure, if this is what we must endure,
Is that our tomorrows will be something, now, to fear.*

Marshalg
Auckland N.Z.
19 October 2013
Brandon Barnett Apr 2012
Newport Beach, what is it with this town everybody drives too fast
yeah we all noticed your lime green Ferrari when you sped past you *******
"vanity plates" doesn't begin to describe the aluminum cast egos
"RICHFOX", IGOTABS", "FASTCEO", plates on a Bentley
"My other car is a Land Rovy", "*** I heart ME"
and these stiff ****** walking around in hand tailored three piece suits
they'd have em sewn outta greenback cash if it was weatherproof
three thousand dollar watches on hands reaching into deeper pockets
they've got money clips where their ***** should be but that’s OK
because their personal trainer's just ******* em for their money anyway
I wish I had thought sooner to invest in a Hoover vacuum and some safety glasses
I could've made a fortune having the fat ****** out of their pampered *****
lazy ***** skipping out on two-hundred a month gym passes
or on a treadmill in six hundred dollar Dolce and Gabana glasses

Jealousy isn't my point it's the way they treat me
I roll up a sleeve, show a little ink and suddenly I'm beneath their feet and sinking
it's an interesting cliche the Orange County caste system
I'm an untouchable on the wrong side of the money math's division
I'm lucky to get a Hi, Hello, or How's your morning going
forget about small talk on the elevator it's a capitol offense but in their defense they are pretty busy
Blackberry, cell phone, head set, text the boss, black cherry, compact, secretary's lip gloss
plus they can smell how much my cologne cost and by their looks i just smell filthy without the rich
I don't speak any French but does "couture" mean self-centered *****?

Newport what is it with this town everybody loves themselves too much
they're living life for the corporate success ladder climbing gush
55 at the 5 by the 405 and the 22: the Orange crush
every freeway you ever needed to feel free to live in a huge rush
the reason their sick cars mash six speeds on a German clutch
to hurry up and get to next seasons sales meeting about nothing much

Newport what is it with this town they aren't birthing humans they're breeding the rich
working the counters for the nouveau riche
Newport everyone I've encountered in this town is a self centered *****
springtime in the rockies is filled with such delight
eagles fly round moutain tops such a lovely sight
mountains you can climb underneath the sun
climbing oh so high having lots of fun
lots of different things there for you to do
lots of lovely sights there for you to view
there are  grizzly bear and the elk and moose
coyote and the deer running free and loose
lots of different creatures the greenback toad and trout
lots of things in ponds swimming all about
such a lovely place with lots of things to see
springtime in the rockies is where i long to be
Obadiah Grey Jun 2010
So lunch is on me then eh?

lips suitably pursed, pinkie raised
to the correct angle,
she sits and sips the last dregs of
life she's squeeezzed outta me-
a fitting accompaniment
to the thick slice o' succulent wallet
she's so elegantly carved out of my ***.

dripping with greenback,
for those blessed with perfect diction,
her lawyer comments on the tenderness
of my sauteed sweetbread,
"hummmm a little stringy,
but ever so nourishingly juicy".
as he pours the remnants of my self esteem on to his final bill...

alan nettleton
Ylzm Aug 2019
Greenland's not for sale
Greenland's melting
Green forests burning
Greenback flooding
Greed and fear ablaze
fed and preyed upon by AI
Chosen by the wicked
but snubbed, the King sulked
betterdays Apr 2014
early morning,
with
cup of kenyan blend.
i step outside,
to meet my day.

all soft,
misty drizzle.
cocooning the view,
to the koi pond
and slick driveway.

stepping stones,
are
soft wet coins
on greenback lawn.
dewed and glistening new.

the last
of the snapdragons,
weep in bright tears
of beauty.
the portulaci
have closed their
faces to the world,
to await the
returning sun.

in the pond,
the koi swim,
and glide
like solar flashes
caught while bathing.
bright moving wonder
on the colourless day

and as i watch
the surface becomes
hypnotic as water drops
create ring,bisecting
ring, bisecting ring.
concentricity,
most exquisite.

the smell of jasmine
eucalypt and coffee
mix and mingle with
exhaust and salted iodine.

sound is muted.
birds, whisper this morning.
even the kookaburras call,
in stuttering short chuckles.
the sea, so close, is but a murmur, a chinese whisper
on the frail wind.


the small grey cat,
comes to sit with me
nose, aquiver,
ears swiveling
to and fro.

a pause before,
harrumphing
and stalking
back into the
dry, cosy, warmth.

i soon follow....
leaving the day,
to it's softness.
napowrimo day 6
prompt write a poem of what you see hear and feel
outside your window/door
(paraphrased)
Zanna Blouin Dec 2015
I am from silly sisters, full time moms, and missing dads

From Mexican Railroaders and southern slavers

I am from cramming in and spreading out

From jumping on the bed and sleeping on the sheet

I am from kitten toys and a purple piggy bank

From P.B. cookies and B+s on the fridge[b]

I am from Stam Chocolate

From pizza pie and spaghetti piled high

I am from Birthday Girl picks dinner

From salad dressing bottles and sweet Maine summers

I am from squishy black cat dolls

From the Time Out Chair and Bear Chair Fights

I am from homemade pants that can't be beat

From "Greenback Dollar" and "Unclouded Days"

I am from "Stand up and be counted"

From the Girl Scout Promise and Law

I am from all these things and more

My poem never ending
Also available on wattpad @WriteActSing
Feggyr Citack May 2017
-on a contemporary religion: https://youtu.be/FDZmTXkwcNA

Kneel in the sun, count your money
Clutch 'm for the summer breeze
Hotter than hell is counting your money
While greenback devils grin from the trees

Let a hailstorm touch the roof's gutter
Like piano keys hit by a fool
Now you hear what you want to hear
Casino's cash machines finally deliver

Let the days disappear forever
Let the night get as dark as can be
There is a shiny silver dollar there
Beaming mercilessly at you and me
Uncle Don's team are reported to be the wealthiest US administration ever. Not really a consolation for their poor white voters who know, deep down inside, they were born for a dime only. But still hope to go up in the pyramid game once. Hey, and don't get sick, they just took healthcare away from you (4th of May, that great day).
spysgrandson Dec 2015
I found you in parks,
camped out in libraries
bus depots

we shared road stories,
****, food, and whatever we had
stuffed in our pants, forbidden
by the man

you came from everywhere
and were going nowhere--except
California

a million dreams after
Steinbeck's hordes plodded west,
desperate to find the fruit

but you were in search
of grapes without the wrath:
there weren't any

you came and went  
some succumbing to the needle
others to the bottle, and more to the winds
which whisked you to another park bench,
another all night diner, in another
dead, gray city

I stuck around,
earned, or stole, greenback dollars
built red brick houses, had children and wives  
and almost forgot your scent

now, mostly when the lights are out,
I add the years of your evaporating biographies
and realize so few of you remain,
to walk our flat earth
Jeanelle Averett Mar 2016
That morning in 12-step
Heart filled with remorse
Why had her life taken
This punishing course

Why had she been given
These trials and this pain
More sorrow than gladness
More dry spell…than rain

She felt undeserving
God’s love or His care
So much of her past life
Just hadn’t been fair

Disabled and damaged
Distressed and abused
Would He ever welcome
A daughter this bruised

Then the leader held up
A ten dollar bill
It was torn on one edge with
A syrupy spill

Who wants it he asked them
Will anyone here
Accept this old ten spot
That’s stained in root beer

He didn’t seem startled
When each hand raised high
And each one called ‘I will’
In synchronized cry

Then taking the greenback
He crumpled it tight
And stomped to the carpet
With all of his might

Then once more he asked them
An arch in his brow
While holding it forward
Well, how about now?

It’s ***** and wrinkled
Do any of you
Still want this ten dollars
With all it’s been through?

Again each hand raised up
And each one said 'yes'
Each one understanding
It wasn’t worth less

In spite of its treatment
It hadn’t decreased
In what it could buy them
No, not…in the least

So now my dear sisters
Their leader explained
Each one in this classroom’s
Been rumpled and stained

Each one has experienced
The struggles of earth
But none has diminished
In what she was worth

Each one has been damaged
And each one is flawed
But the worth of each sister
Is precious to God

The Savior’s atonement
Is proof of that fact
For God sent Him down to
Make up what each lacked

He sent someone perfect
To save someone not
Which makes you all priceless
Despite what you’ve thought

That night she was dreaming
And listened enthralled
To angelic voices
Then heard her name called

'Who wants her?' was broadcast
Will anyone here
Accept her into this
Celestial sphere?

No one seem startled
When two from on high
Said they would accept her
In synchronized cry

Then once more the angel
An arch in his brow
While showing her earth life
Asked 'how about now?

She’s been both a victim
And transgressor, too
Are you sure that you want her
With all she’s been through?'

Again both the Father
And Son called out 'yes'
Each one demonstrating
She wasn’t worth less

In spite of life’s treatment
Her worth hadn’t decreased
To two such as they were
No, not…in the least
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse with his side kick Ernest Penfold, the nerdy hamster,
The per defeat their arch enemy Baron Silas Von Greenback,
Week after week, Danger Mouse and Ernest Penfold save the world,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all,
Danger Mouse, the greatest secret agent of them all.
19/7/2020
Butch Decatoria May 2017
Get on with your Bad self

Go on with your Hustle

Into the bustle

And the gristle

Briskly

Frisky

Grizzly world...

Go 'head find and get that paper

Let your greenback wings unfurl

Telling you who to be

Made

So dapper...

Go Rise above

But still only talking

'Bout

That Unfathomable

Love

Still wrapping

The turkey in a noose

Letting bullets loose

For hundred dollar shoes

Shoes!

Shoo sure 'nuf!

Time to wake up / this close to the Sun

Wax in' & Flossin'

Ill prepared to Rise above

Pretending to exude

The same kind

Of Love...

You

Go'ne now...

You Dawg you - A "g"

N-word y'heard in Everythang

We trust

Go'ne muss it up!

I just must know

(My boo)

Didn't you?

Give the World

This Life

Much Love?

Fire in the sky... Fallen

Too high

At dusk...


gone to fly into the eye

(Cush)
Ken Pepiton Feb 2023
Magnification and magic, majesty and jest, me?

My first thought on waking, or reaction acknowledging,
science, if any thing is sharp, it was made to become so.

Crystal vision, any reader in this medium has,
an attainment,
merit worn
by knowing
words hold
thoughts and thoughts occur in superstringy gnosisnot.

Over time, dust is drawn to the tangled web that we wove.
In visibility,
winds paint the Granite wall my bubble occupies,
melting the shallow snow,

enough for a California snowday. My mileau,
my conditioning reflexive zone,
bouncing a thought between reading minds morphing
wishes once thoughts,
aimed
as it were,
at hungry wolves, or troglodytes.

- My Grandfather, Caleb Boyett,
- has blessed me,
- no quest set before has not called
- on know how knots tie and solder mends
- learned from watching him, as a child.
- I was reared in a junk yard,
- with a bunch of happy dogs.

Stela, not
"Stella" from the common programing relative
to Hollywood, see
the sign.

Big-time, Robbie, big time, SHOW
bidness,
be kind.

I don't give a damnabouda greenback dollar,
spent it fast as I could,
or woulda, had I ever sold what must be sold,
to accrue money problems,
or secret stores to protect,
sense of will,
sense of pur- in advance guarding the niche
posed
under superpositioned words we all react on,

pinch of salt,
taken from the spiritual conception developed
as many children must have been set up,
to spill some salt,
so elders could guage,
measure
reaction to instruction, "toss a pinch of the problem
                over your left shoulder-
                to ward
off any malicious salt protectors mind cry.

Not a lie. In my realm, stories reign supreme,
and those who learn to tell them without lying
seldom prosper
as per standard class-ification projects,
historically called civil-ization.

-- so that's my que, 2023, snow melt negative space
patterns evoke… that word again,
several times today, 10:34
took pictures of the patterns in the snow
that look similar to some level of me,
to rock art in

Time and chance, perhaps I needed the provocation,
common senses, all agree, things occur with no ..... lost threads

Internet ties,
intellectual kin,
in the wildering edgewise meandering mind
we share
in time
we spend thinking thank you for reading my mind.
The we we have is leavenishly small. Mind share, is too rare to price.
A hundred scents in a dollar?
wow
that's a smelly currency,
but in the land of the free
they can do as they please

in good old blighty
which used to be capital,
we still put a seashell
up to our ear
to hear
the latest news.

Sunday
dawn has not broken
it's just resting
testing the air for scents.
Kagey Sage Jan 2023
In between notebooks
writing on the back of bank statement envelopes
My money would be in wise temperance
if I didn't haunt auctions for cursed instruments
I got a bargain baglama in route from Greece
it's just the chase
the replacement of writing songs and hard work
I could at least join the fox hunts
but don't forget coming from those that are forced to hunt
Sometimes envious of that pressure again
but don't resent cause it's just weakness
What I can't force myself to emulate
the neo-Malthusianism of my anointed material condition
_________________­

I'm back at it
running out of space
Might have to switch to that student loan
refinancing scheme from Chase
I won't even open it cause
I'm just waiting for society to value
education as a better use of time than
bailing out bankers gambling on the
backs of the poor and middle class that take all the risk
You swindle their paycheck and taxes too
Worshiping at the alter of the greenback printer
Sell your grandma and your grandchildren's future
__________________

I think I ran out of unimportant mail to write upon
I need to do my taxes so I can stop stressing
about hoarding unopened letters
I'm afraid I'll find some catastrophe like a disease
or a stolen identity
There's too much to fear in the 21st century
Yes, how weird
there's no aristocratic family lording over my plot of land
I'm not even a renter anymore except
to the bank and I get my food from multi-national global kings
Much less personal than the ****** that used to rule our lives
Now they're depersonalized into the corporate body
Escaping heaven's mandate
I suppose
Through layer and layer of fabric reality
the market, democracy, technology
is the belief that this whole world is fake
Ascribing deity to digital creators
Bad faith actors
Pretending it's other than profit you desire
"Profit's just a means"
but you need more means to make more means
What's the real product you're peddling?
Do you not have pride beyond the money making aspect?
Why do you highlight such shortsightedness?
Petersen House, Washington, D.C.

I admit to own a passion
for the Civil War in general,
and the life and death of
the sixteenth president in particular
between a hard spot of whiskey
and draughts of arrack;
nonetheless (without doubt), this Yankee
would be fain to travel back
to Antebellum America
amidst the urban din and clack

where smelting earsplitting,
choking industrialization
a deaf fin hit drawback,
and where dark shadows cast an eternal
edge of night twilight zone pallor
tubby somewhat exact
from mighty robber barons,
who tolerated no flack
(nope not even Roberta)
despite the bleeding nose against grindstone
inhumanity bearing down hard
with very little giveback
viz zit head as greenback

yes...no matter the noxious
crash course urbanization
(and attendant ghettoization)
breeding a lung wrenching tuberculosis hack,
this twenty first century middle aged
married man (an average Monterey Jack
***), whose sought after
claim to fame penchant
modestly admits to **** knack

crafting literary concoctions with no lack
of ideas, where one arose
strong as an oncoming mack
truck (this vibrant fascination
with the American Civil War
(even before Ken Burns popularized
calamitous event) in non black
and white (digitally remastered technicolor)
exemplified, enumerated, and emphasized
how a minor dispute got way off,track
whereat stately commander in chief did pack
a punch analogous sans, barreling forth
like unstoppable quarterback
despite his six foot four inch
gangly physique cull rack
tried his darnedest,
(or substitute unprintable epithet)
yet a coterie of anti war subjects
figuratively and literally up in arms

wanted nothing less to sack
the sixteenth president,
whose aged fifty seven year old countenance
one month after
Ides of March death didst dance
during the low key celebration sans,
internecine bloodbath Grants'
and Lees' armistice
one hundred and fifty seven years ago;

the peace treaty signed
(April 9th, 1865) at Appomattox,
an irrevocable agony did blow
when that fateful, mournful,
somber night at Ford's Theater
the grim reaper didst appear
(like Jim) crow king
ably linkedin with Reconstruction
after one shot rang out blasting,
where crimson tide didst flow
drowning American history
at that juncture grow

wing no less painless today, which hoo
veer ring agony didst smite
incomprehensible cleft mow
wing down unfinished ambition, which no
one other than Abraham Lincoln could sow
the racial rift, that slavery trucked in tow
generations shackled with compounded woe

that fateful April 15, 1865
at approximately 10:20 p.m
one hundred plus fifty seven years; it's been
long since deceased taking deadly
gunshot punctuated deadly din,
whence fifteen plus decades passed sans
conspirator tried to get even
at Ford’s theater – forever
eviscerating thin lipped grin
of the sixteenth president - still
his unrealized promising dreams with in

Reconstruction paradigm presses
historians to speculate what kin
ship his unrealized post-bellum blueprint
while he sat in his booth,
attended a performance of the comedy
Our American Cousin that night
when a bullet entered below
the president's left ear,
bored diagonally through his brain
and stopped behind his right …

wrought him slumped over,
now tis 7 score + 17 years witnessed
assassination of Abraham Lincoln
team of rivals mastermind, re: the
American Civil War wreck con struck shin
yet…his positive affects find him
honored with outsize depictions and a con tin
hue wing legacy sustained, whereby
hearts and minds he posthumously did win.

Said enigmatic man shrouded and idolized
with beatific, democratic essence
fantastic, honorific, pacific aura, dogma,
and persona with meager off fence
to generations of United States citizens –
enthralled ladies and gents
whose reverberations and ramifications

of humane karma lives on – hence
begotten progeny enjoying freedoms
perchance ensconced with rapt innocence
or those inured with sensibility and sense
can bequeath pride without prejudice
whether living in splendour or in tents
toward Illinois railroad log splitter,
whose humble roots forged steely covenants.
Napolis Oct 2018
Yet again

lost pieces
of her
fairytale
forever,

are now
torn,

thrown
carelessly

like barren
dead seeds

across
the shedding
floor.

love letters
from far
off places.

that won't
be writing
back.

lies shared
in midnight
passion,

between
hot bodies
forged in

a lover's
fire.

now lie

expired.

her existence

with him defined
by love
bought with

grocery
greenback
trading
stamps,

in a

hick
Indiana
general
store in

the middle

of her town.

but what
is bought
in a cheap  
moment,

will not
last the
next.

love bartered.
her soul

pulled
from the
root.

cut and
dry.

to wither
and die.

but the
crows
smile,

their
bellies
full.



Cinderella

will never

be heard

from again.
(neither defamation, nor blasphemy meant, sans Title)

Despite ingestion of
     anti anxiety medications
     ferocious hellish onslaught
     pummels me aback
finds resurgence of ghostly
     white implacable terror
inducing panic attack
cogs and wheels

of psyche frenetically
spinning alas and alack
swallowed in the un
avoid doubleheader maw
whale size amberjack
suctioned alive as dead ringer
     human master bait
     (feebly prate who GOD,

     somebody please HELP)
     doomed to die, "eye"
     doth entirely engulf me
     far worse than being slammed
     by malevolent forces
     loosed from hurricane
     classed as Category 5
on Saffir-Simpson Scale

     adrip with horrible gastric,
caustic, and acidic repulsive
bile alcoholic akin to applejack
and more rancid
than Q8 oily arrack
once again oft repeated phrase
     Death be not Proud, viz
     reincarnation of Moby ****

     (gone terribly awry)
on the attack after ME
with no way back
to house at Pooh Corner
     condemned to spin
willfully intestate,
while steeped in utter black
but....methinks

perhaps fetid blowback
equivalent to volcanic belch, would
     spit out "burnt offerings"
     formerly Matthew Scott Harris,
     whose steaming hot pipe dream
(Ahab) in mind can not
even get "LIVE" feedback,
and definite never

my Stradivarius fiddleback
(I rue...all the money
    momma's and pappa's...
scrimped and saved
     without giving
this sole sun any flack)...
ha...sardonic humor,
and wistful pointless flashback

equally frivolous hanker
ring for greenback,
legal tender, quid
     pro quo, et cetera,
NOW demise welcomed
     forever free from penury
small potatoes this measly mortal
even at dirt poor cheap

     expense courtesy
     Euthanasia travel agency
manned by HiJack,
where captain! My captain!

     Humungous humpback
clearly presented danger field,
     and only costs this one life
     as lil bitty chewy Whitman snack!
Butch Decatoria Sep 2021
Icarus Kush /by: Butch Decatoria



Get on with your Bad self

Go on with your Hustle

Into the bustle

And the gristle

Briskly

Frisky

Grizzly world...

Go 'head find and get that paper

Let your greenback wings unfurl

Telling you who to be

Made

So dapper...

Go Rise above

But still only talking

'Bout what don't matter,

The Unfathomable

Kind of Love.

Still wrapping

The turkey in a noose

Letting bullets loose

For hundred dollar shoes

Shoes!

Shoot sure 'nuf!

Time to wake up / this close to the Sun

Waxin' & Flossin'

Ill prepared to Rise above

Pretending to exude

The same kind

Of Love...

You

Go'ne now...

You Dawg you - A "g"

N-word y'heard in Everythang

We trust

Go'ne muss it up!

I just must know

(My boo)

Didn't you?

Give the World

This Life

Much Love?

Fire in the sky... Fallen

Too high

At dusk.

Gone to fly into the Eye...

(Kush)
Butch Decatoria Sep 2020
Get on with your Bad self

Go on with your Hustle

Into the bustle

And the gristle

Briskly

Frisky

Grizzly world...

Go 'head find and get that paper

Let your greenback wings unfurl

Telling you who to be

Made

So dapper...

Go Rise above

But still only talking

'Bout what don't matter,

The Unfathomable

Kind of Love.

Still wrapping

The turkey in a noose

Letting bullets loose

For hundred dollar shoes

Shoes!

Shoot sure 'nuf!

Time to wake up / this close to the Sun

Waxin' & Flossin'

Ill prepared to Rise above

Pretending to exude

The same kind

Of Love...

You

Go'ne now...

You Dawg you - A "g"

N-word y'heard in Everythang

We trust

Go'ne muss it up!

I just must know

(My boo)

Didn't you?

Give the World

This Life

Much Love?

Fire in the sky... Fallen

Too high

At dusk.

Gone to fly into the eye...

(Kush)
Butch Decatoria May 2021
ICARUS KUSH


Get on with your Bad self

Go on with your Hustle

Into the bustle

And the gristle

Bristly

Frisky

Grizzly world...

Go 'head find and get that paper

Let your greenback wings unfurl

Telling you who to be

Made

So dapper...

Go Rise above

But still only talking

'Bout what don't matter,

The Unfathomable

Kind of Love.

Still wrapping

The turkey in a noose

Letting bullets loose

For hundred dollar shoes

Shoes!

Shoot sure 'nuf!

Time to wake up / this close to the Sun

Waxin' & Flossin'

Ill prepared to Rise above

Pretending to exude

The same kind

Of Love...

You

Go'ne now...

You Dawg you - A "g"

N-word y'heard in Everythang

We trust

Go'ne muss it up!

I just must know

(My boo)

Didn't you?

Give the World

This Life

Much Love?

Fire in the sky... Fallen

Too high

At dusk.

Gone to fly into the eye...

(Kush)
Chandy May 2020
Such a parasite
Sight for tired eyes
Created by our race
Enslaved each of us
Such irony
Common as debauchery
Solemnly swear
To eliminate such philosophical ******
Greenback
Portrait on the front
Exchange it daily
Hardships removed...
...replaced with more strife.

— The End —