"guffaw" poems
I am no longer the
Steady thrum of heartbeats
When issues against women are
Comically displayed on televisions.
Like there's something to
Laugh, guffaw, snicker, snort--
Tell you what, I can name a little
Too many synonymous words
And I can slap them all to your face, too.
I am no longer a suppressed voice,
Unable to tell you and all the other people
That as a girl (and a woman, later),
I have the right to be here.
I have the same rights to life,
To be alive, to be secure,
To have a good life!
And yet, you, who calls yourself a
Man of power, tells me,
"You are nothing."
I am angry with the absurdity
Of it all. Men continuing to abuse,
Women constantly cowering down--
Why are you so intent on showing power
When you are not God?
Why are you so afraid of fighting
For yourself?
I am seething with rage
For those who refuse to accept
Feminism just for the reason
That they do not want to be labeled--
Well, guess what? They have already
Shoved you underneath Weak and Submissive.
Who taught you that you are born
To impress men?
Who taught you that you only exist
To please them?
I will not have any of that ****
I am a person of my own.
I am a human being, with rights.
And I AM FIGHTING to have
The same rights as you do.
Whoever told you that that's
Never gonna happen, can shove it up
Their *****
I will not sit still on my chair while
The next police officer
Asks "Well, what were you wearing?"
To the next **** victim.
You and I both know that is not
The issue here.
No girl should hung their head in shame
That they got touched without consent.
It's not their fault! No one
Deserves to be *****
And no, it's not snuggling, for you who
Even thought **** jokes on t-shirts
Are funny. It's not.
I am for Gender Equality.
For both men and women,
Gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender,
To be treated with equal respect.
With equal opportunities.
With equality.
With no judgment.
Why must you counter that?
Look, I've been sitting in that same chair
For too long while issues spread and get
Larger like the plague.
I thought, let them handle it.
I thought, a small voice would be of no help.
But when did sitting down and staring
Get people somewhere?
When did any of passivity help us?
We already have everything to lose
So why not fight?
Bruce Banner told the other avengers
The secret of Hulk.
And I tell you the same:
Get angry.
Smash inequality.
I will always be right behind you.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
A uniquely unique me,
Is all I wanna be!
When you can be so special,
Why waste your own potential?
When I can move my ears,
And growl (although it's queer)
And choose how loud to ****
--consider it a type of art
When I can hiccup-fart-sneeze,
And appreciate blue cheese
And laugh and chortle and guffaw
--all my friends stare in awe.
When I can recite so many words,
(It doesn't mean I'm a nerd)
And snack 20 times a day
--don't judge okay...
When you can do all that,
Why feel the need to act?
Please just accept the fact
You are you and that's that!
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
clumsy trip up the 17
steps to the paisley sheets
me behind you and
saying the same thing
with a new twist
"hey, know whats trending?"
"your sweet ***
or
"you smell that?!"
to which you reply
"farts is trending"
no able to erupt
in the uproarious laughter
necessitated by turning
a tired line on its head
i cover my mustachioed mouth
with a sweaty palm
to cover the guffaw
that would most certainly
awake my roommates
you always in the lead
giving *** for tat
the style of humor
i searched for yearningly
and never found
that is
till you released wind
and then told me about it
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 4:44 PM UTC
I stood over the sink
Scrubbing our negroni glasses
Wishing the ginger-scented soap
Would wash away the cancer
Because the chemo didn’t work
I was wearing eyeliner
When I first met you
We’d laugh about that later
Over a bottle of wine
And patatas bravas
We always had our weekends
Movie dates and inside jokes
We would guffaw at the
Fuckery of it all
My god your laugh
How it filled a room
I remember when you said
“I love you, Christopher…
because you just GET ME”
You expressed appreciation
For how I carved out time
For our friendship
I reminded you,
“I don’t carve out time for you,
I shove everything away while
screaming ‘I NEED MY HEIDI TIME!’”
*********
I need my Heidi time
For years you were
The most consistent thing in my life
Always there for one another
We were each other’s touchstones
I realize this now more than ever
During my weekends spent alone
Wine tastes different now
Something’s missing
Going to the movies feels strange
It’s like the hero has
Left the frame
Remember when I smoked cigarettes?
You’d *** a drag as we crept
Through early evening traffic
On our way to get gelato
Or if we were feeling sassy
Maybe an affogato
I switched to vaping
When you went into hospice
Then back to menthols
When your spirit left this world
I’m addicted to our memories
More than the nicotine
They bang around my head
Like a song or a scent
Nostalgic
And
Lingering
You tattooed
“CEDENDO VINCES”
On your wrists
“By yielding, you will win”
My finger traced those words
While I held your hand
Last breaths
But what are deaths?
Transitions
Energy
Shifting
A spark
Returning
/ / /
Those letters live
On my wrists now
A reminder of her
The sister I never had
And sometimes
I still hear her laugh
Sep 25, 2022
Sep 25, 2022 at 3:47 PM UTC
Celia looked at her reflection
In the back of the spoon;
Her face was blown outward
As if captured on some balloon.
It almost made her laugh;
The memory of it;
How she and her sister Sassy
Would do that as kids,
Before the dark days,
Before her death in a bath.
That drowning, that sad death.
Sassy’s husband had beaten her
Black and blue and green
And she’d hide herself away
So as not to be seen.
But she’d seen her,
Seen the bruises
Like smudged tattoos,
The closed eyes,
The swollen lips,
The hardly able to talk words
Pushing through the mouth
To say: he says he loves me still.
Celia stared at her reflection,
The way her own mouth was distorted,
Her lips blown up, her eyes enlarged,
Out of proportion.
She almost laughed,
But something about Sassy’s sad death
Made her stifle any guffaw
That may have broken free
From her distorted reflected jaw.
There was the time she’d seen her
********** for bed when she stayed
Because Sassy’s husband (the weird freak)
Was off on business, some big deal,
Needing to be pulled off,
And she saw the black and blueness
With tinges of green
Along her naked flesh,
The buttocks welted
Where he had belted.
Sassy had said nothing,
Had not noticed Celia looking,
Had not thought it unusual
To be unclothed as such
Away from other’s peering eyes.
Now Sassy was dead;
Found in the bath;
Drugged out, wrists slit,
Having drowned recorded.
But he had driven her over the edge;
He had bullied and beaten
Like some spoilt cruel child
An unwanted toy.
Celia turned the spoon over
And put it down.
No more desire to laugh,
Just fond memories of Sassy
Before her death in the bath.
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 2:04 AM UTC
Thomas, Tommy baby,
you are both hot,
and sweet.
Tom Cat you’re red hot--
when I catch you in your Tom Cat Strut,
sauntering across campus,
strolling like it ain’t no thing,
cuz it don’t meant a thing
if it ain’t got that swing baby.
So dig this, Tommy Gun,
you groove with the best of ‘em
when I spot you strollin’—
Your head, teetering left and right like a seesaw, boppin’ baby,
arms hangin’ loosely, swinging freely, wildly, go! go!
legs scooping forward in boisterous trombone slides--
Groooooove Tommy baby!
You’re Louis’s best blows--
ten feet from the mic and the Fives baby,
you’re hot, red hot,
any closer and I'll burn up!
Go!
But you’re cool, real cool,
and oh so sweet.
Super sweet--
in your beard like a pepper and salt shaker tossed across the table,
I look to see those rosy lips part,
and peep those pearly whites shinin' like the bell of Louis’s cornet
brandished in the air, under those ballroom lights--
you’re screamin’ Tommy!
Let me hear that laugh that shakes the room,
punches like Blakey’s bass drum,
thumps like Mingus--
T-Bird you’ve got that hard bop in your soul,
you’re gonna bop to the top TB,
into the third heaven where the angels fall in line to your swing,
that incessant strut that keeps the devil at bay,
Blow! Blow! Blow!
And I see you now Tom Cat,
up there in the clouds,
digging your way across eternity,
bopping and jiving, swinging and blowing,
in your faded khaki pants and worn tennis shoes,
loosely buttoned collared shirt,
tight rectangular glasses that glistened the bell of your eyes even more--
I gotta stand twenty feet away Tommy baby!
You glance down at me and wink,
rearing your head back to let loose that Mingus and Blakey
bottom-end laugh,
guffaw guffaw guffaw!!!
--so hearty and rich,
the backbone of every nervous first-year classroom,
and the sniggering seniors you continued to befuddle and dazzle
with your mysterious ways
and insatiable swing.
So blow, Tommy Gun, blow!
Go Tom Cat go!
Dig T-Bird dig!
Let loose Tommy boy!
Swing for us, swing swing swing--
Hot and Sweet, Tommy baby,
hot and sweet.
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 1:55 AM UTC
Goliath never
Praised his wife,
Never said
He loved her.
He came up short
Of his intent,
She felt more worthy,
Had to vent,
So stole off from
The Philistine camp,
Crossed the sands
Like a vamp,
To join Israelites
Preparing
For the final fight.
A challenge
Came
From the Giant,
To send out one
To die defiant.
David rose
In shepherd's clothes,
Goliath's wife
Lay near.
When David reached
For shield and spear,
She handed him
A bra.
Her over the shoulder
Boulder holder
Had Philistines guffaw.
Her Double D's,
Once there to please,
Brought Goliath
Grovelling
To his knees.
He lopped off
Goliath's head,
Enjoyed the same
Back in bed.
The lesson taught?
It doesn't matter,
Tall or not,
Be sure to
Tell your wife
She's hot!
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
Dear Human (at first I wrote narrow minded *******
This is not a hate poem, although it started out as one
it's something finished before my time
a game already won
My tendons would love to stretch 15 minutes before beginning the race but I wake up every morning to a piercing toast, a celebratory guffaw
of an after party having been exploited and raw
there is no point for me to stretch
metaphorically that is
for if i don't stretch before I start my day
I tweak like a bike in need of WD40
I can't speak because everything I saw deserves an explanation
scratch that
I can't speak because I'm afraid of judgement like
heavy wet cement, I'll drown in my unspoken words though
so I write these down
back to the point
Irritable Bowel Syndrome is a *****
if I don't stretch my aching quaking body can't **** right
and if I can't **** right
every other stressor strangles my already mangled mind and body
Depression is wet cement dripping from my air vent
molding my notches and bolts stone solid
yet, I have to get up and stretch to walk amid, among, noodles
Falling asleep is difficult because I want to get the night over with
and Waking up is difficult because I want to get the day over with
Not a study session waiting for snacks more
my socks are stuffed with thumbtacks
and I forgot everyone finished their after party
so I'm pounding my feet sprinting
for a finish line
I'll never cross
Like when I woke up in the hospital,
banging my head against the wall believing I could smash my way outside on this day, three years ago
My mania surged lightning bolt electric jolt a thousand watt volt
I would never be released until normalcy increased
so I spent every waking moment stretching
desperately trying to release the
desperate stress molded
in my body
Depression is wet cement, I have learned to slip through it's cracks
by releasing the firey strength
I hold inside my bones
I hold inside my soul
Oh human, please hear me with your open ears
yet if you can't, I have no fear
your judgement cannot touch me
I am on fire, all victims of depression
you, we, are not weak
merely misunderstood by false desire
we are misunderstood
Blazing wet cement on fire
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
Ray Lewis, your spokesman
is ripped and he's lean.
He's built like Adonis
and, by rep, very mean.
If I use "old Spice" body wash
as per his advice.
The ladies will swoon
as I'll smell so **** nice.
I'm short fat and Jewish-
a Nebbish at heart.
In intimate settings
I'm quite prone to ****
So I bought "Old Spice" body wash
and lathered it on.
Then I entered the bedroom
and said "Babe, bring it on!"
Olive, my lover of many a year
was less than impressed
when I deigned to appear.
A giggle, a chuckle and then a guffaw
My confidence sagged
like my double chinned jaw.
"Darling, it may be you smell like Ray Lewis
but when my eyes open
You're short fat and Jewish."
The ad was misleading
and I feel like a fool
Not a mensch, more a reject
from a shallow gene pool.
Bad enough that the store
on my refund is reneging.
foreplay now requires
two hours of begging.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
Our immediate discomfort always feels so wrong
Aren’t we all meant to get along?
It starts as simply as the set of their jaw
Before long it’s their toneless guffaw
Then their mere presence becomes an intense irritant
And you fight to suppress your instinct to be militant
Forget the initial dislike that began to percolate
Now you fight for control as you hyperventilate
Digging deep for composure you seek compromise
But then you recognise the mutuality of warrior steel in their eyes
You know they know
What to do; step away or let it be so?
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
Totally awesome speech
Makes me smile
Totally ruthless words
Crack me up
If you agree with this fact, come on then… back me up
Those amazing phrases in a movie that made you want to yell ‘PREACH!’
Words that leave you lost for words
When you’re on your own… glued to the screen and you guffaw
Just laugh aloud… and that’s allowed
That dumb **** that made you almost crap your pants
“A flaming tiger with wings! Dude! That’s like Chinese for shut the f*ck up and dance!”
Heard that in a stupid flick
It didn’t even take it’s time before tickling the **** of me
This film just begun… then started to get stupid quick
And there were no mufflers… the curses flowed freely
I loved it!
Pretentious people going “Awww c’mon now… dude this is sick!”
Ummm… for you maybe
I have an open minded sense of humour
The notion...
That one cannot just simply make a joke about a dead baby
I may agree with… maybe
But I cracked up at the one where the wife says… “I’m taking time off because I’m pregnant.”
And the Dictator replies “That’s great! So, are you having a boy… or an abortion?”
If you're the touchy type
Kindly refrain yourself from taking offense and getting all welled up with emotion.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 7:36 AM UTC
The night sky is wrapped in curls of black
and the air purrs, fizzes with the sound of hot
fluorescent lights, choking the air with vacation colour,
blinking fast like there’s something in their eyes.
Gulls guffaw in circles over 174,
where inside old wallpaper is torn
and dated lampshades dangle from above.
Two pegs on a line outside my box,
the bed is rickety and isn’t as fit anymore.
The novices, the returnees
seek silver and gold in the oasis
before their feet sting in scorching sand.
Win what you lose, lose what you win,
hold onto it before it tumbles back onto white cushions.
Money hiccups out of ugly machines
when they have a session of indigestion.
Young girls, carefree and cute walk around in a daze
as chubby men waddle along the pavement
thinking of that next pint.
Lined up at the bar with peanuts and bottles,
the large screen projects to all.
A clink of glasses and a click of snooker *****
past nine, past ten, past eleven as well.
And then the plug is pulled out,
everybody settles down to sleep,
but we all know they’ll do it again
when tomorrow’s summer evening calls.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 8:18 AM UTC
Overcome by lassitude
I took out my typewriter
And wrote a letter
To
The rhapsodic songs
I kept singing all night
A resonant guffaw
For
150 words of poetry
On tessellated fabric
Written with thick black ink
In the memory of
The forgotten.
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC
The wicked, they come
In a cerulean dream.
The cellar door opened,
With an opposable thumb.
A disposable past
And no ties in the future,
They live within ******
And die through their caste.
Oh, Ford! They cry out
For all of their blessings.
Oh, Ford! I cry too,
To drown silent doubt.
“Take me to your room.”
She breathes, voice coppered,
She conducts me. Unzips in
One movement, fit to bloom.
“Lenina,” I call,
Eyes blinded by her colour.
In a world so built and grey,
I live only in her sprawl.
We finish, my heart descending.
She nicks her lips to my ear,
Then reminds me thus;
“Ending is better than mending.”
To bed we fall; once, twice, thrice.
Each time I cling longer,
Wrap her in bedsheets,
‘Till she feels our ****** splice.
With no use, she’s gone
To some other embrace.
Some cold shouldered support,
Then to the salon.
She’ll tell all to her friends,
A gaggle of giggles.
And he’ll speak of her,
Like some means to an end.
“Pneumatic,” is she,
He’ll say with no stutter,
“You should have her,” he’ll offer,
Like the fruit from a tree.
No, like meat, like meat,
She is passed around.
Like animals, the Alphas
Bruise, **** and maltreat.
Community. Snake-like,
It moves as if one.
Each person a muscle,
Not separate but a part.
Identity. It blurs,
‘Till I forget the use
Of my name. Push it out,
Repeat in my dreams.
Stability. It comes,
A two-gramme holiday.
A superficial guffaw
That veneers my face.
Oh, Soma! Come take me,
From where I don’t belong.
To where passions are birthed
Far from the hatchery.
To where feelings are heartfelt,
Not found in a pill.
Where waistlines aren’t throttled
By a Malthusian belt.
A savage I am,
In my pursuit for more.
When I long for freedom,
And not another half-gramme.
Gaia, she held us in her womb.
From fish to ape, she mothered too.
Now all that’s left is this soulless gloom
Where man is born only to consume.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
Did you feel it?
'Round about 11:37pm
Eastern
Last night
I was rebroadcasting
This enormous grin
This joyous
Guffaw
This hoot
And hollar
A small
Connection
Causing
And releasing
A death star sized
Blast of joy
You had to feel it
It was
Just after
She left
When I
Could think
Again
Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 7:36 AM UTC
Why do they laugh at me? Guffaw until hoarse
as I walk through the fog?
Little copper feet strut across woodwork,
sherbet white feathers extend, retract.
A mob stands on soggy grass, wheezing
like old men on twenty a day.
Some yawn, open orange castanet beaks,
a boring morning for those who remain.
Clouds turn a grimmer grey shade
over me and these gulls.
Two of them spring up, higher than every tree,
wings glide through air as satin through fingers.
Tiny eyes will continue to scour this park
for another stranger to deride.
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 4:50 PM UTC
The dark and mysterious
Starved and delirious
Eddie Murphy shotgun
Guffaw at the pitiless
Just another sound from the TV
The livin room consumed by the gloom that was written in
The script of a cartoon poppin Ritalin to stay in tune with the
Mood of his peers eatin shrooms for dinner pour salt in the wound
No splenda
Suspended by their necks from the system as society forgets them
The news covers an angle
And tells you who's the victim
Saying the youth is the danger please don't go near them
Creating strangers out of family endangering a strain of love cause that's the only thing to overcome the ******** on their tongues
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
give me a break
from the seas rough
I greed a bellyache
badly need to laugh!
for too long weathered
a stormy bumpy ride
I need a breather
bare a guffaw wide!
*give me a break
give me a break
life is burdened enough
give me a break
not give a heartache
I badly need to laugh!*
been too long bowed down
with the pangs of grief
needs himself this clown
a laugh’s relief!
long buzzed this head
with the groans of pain
this heart has bled
time and again!
*give me a break
give me a break
life is burdened enough
give me a break
not give a heartache
I badly need to laugh!*
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
To see the world, from a child's eyes
is to behold life, without disguise
awe and wonder, each moment a prize
the whole world is a puzzle, each piece a surprise
A tune is for singing, a bell for ringing
Stairs must be hopped, a balloon mustn't be popped
Stars can only twinkle, a toy must jingle
All things must be gazed at, then probably tasted
Just for a lark, she might mimic a dog's bark
like the crow caw, or like the *** guffaw
there is little her eyes, have not tried on for size
all is hers, till told sternly otherwise
A puddle is for jumping, and so is the bed
Candy is for stuffing, till her mouth turns red
A hop, a twirl and away we go
Walking is for fools, she is ever on her boat
So stop for a while, and sing with your child
shake a leg, do a jig, let go and unwind
For not very long, will your child dance along
if she thinks she is alone, in a world so monotone
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
Bellicose beer-belled bad-asses
Bawdily belting down brewskies
Usually, boozily, bruisily beating
On weaker, sleeker funseekers
In the bar where they are, far
From anything like maturity
Hip hip hooray for unhip USA.
Ballyhooing big screen viewing
Myopic eyes watch others exercise
Freedom-hating grouch on a couch
Itching, ******** psoriasis and sloth
Unread armchair Brother of the Cloth.
One of the minions of opinions,
Hardened against morality, reality.
Saying it every day: USA, USA, USA!
Hating, bating, aggravating, skating
Right past solutions, conclusions
Preferring propaganda, ***** Miranda,
Stop mollycoddling, bottling up anger
Christ in the manger should be law
But they guffaw at reading The Book;
They took their religion from TV.
Freedom for me, not thee, in my USA.
Got mine, ***** yours, rights immune;
That tune don’t play here. No queers
No browns, yellows, Hindus or Jews.
I’ve got news you can use, I abuse
And oppress guys in a dress, yes!
Even if he’s white, it still ain’t right.
The Constitution is old, it just teases.
Mine is Republican Jesus for the USA.
A pigeon for old time religion and God
Everyone else is odd. I saw the movie.
It was groovy and pretty. Went to the city
Saw it in Imax, no blacks in the theater
Thanks to The Creator that gave us all
The intelligence to call things right.
Hip hip hooray for being lily white.
Hip hip hooray for the KKK USA.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
The dizziness shrouds me as fog around a hill
All images fade around as pills in me fill
Duty loaded nurses curse as cries **** the sleep
Poison from planes in plains brings dark sleep.
All along the plains as the Lord of Wars in bars
Sit in fit and guffaw as the savages in wars.
Eat they though human flesh stinging hot blood
Savages won’t **** their children cruel as the flood.
Speaking much of holy Bible and holy Qur’an ,
We speak proudly of Vedic text tells Love to man
Socrates and Plato died ,died Gandhi for the Truth
Even now we keep away from Truth lighted path.
Life around us moves now as victim of the drugs
Hence turn to Right Path , and save us from the crux.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 1:55 AM UTC
The wind opens the clouded curtains
to reveal the shining sun.
This glorious orb had winked, however uncertain
That the wink was directed to only one.
I saw this phenomena, and felt
as if I was revealed all truth.
In this game of life, I was dealt
With the eternal heart of a youth.
Granted to me
by that life giving sun
Was the power to see;
A gift that cannot be undone.
So I blinked one eye
And winked in reply.
I continued upon my way
and saw in the distance, a creature.
His teeth were on display
and squinty eyes added to the feature.
Twas a smile that was given to I,
and felt as if I was one with his soul
as I caught this beauty with my eye;
Just then I was complete and whole.
I was so graciously given
By this beautiful creature
The heart to keep on livin'
As his smile was my greatest teacher.
So I stretched my lips from ear to ear
and smiled back, for I was no longer in fear.
The trees shook and rustled
as I was slowly passing by.
And as the leaves bustled
I glimpsed the wave as they said hi.
I stood still to stare,
as the leaves were dancing a greeting.
I felt the love that we do share,
'cause my heart was aflame and beating.
I was knowledgeably instilled
By this humble, but noble tree;
my quest for friendship is fulfilled;
'cause I learned that there is always a we.
So with my hand, a branch I did take
as I returned the lovely handshake.
I heard the blissful chatter
of a girl years younger than I.
I asked what was the matter;
'I'm laughing!' was the reply.
Her carelessness got the better of me,
and in her freedom I cheered with rejoice,
as we danced and shared the eternal glee.
I was jubilant to hear the guffaw in her voice.
I was so ecstatically presented
by this lightened and carefree soul
with the sense of freedom, cemented
knowing that, of myself, only I am in control.
So I took her hand, and gave a great bellow,
as I gave her a laugh like a jolly 'ol fellow.
I could feel the totality of the earth
in my humble, but powerful heart.
I was a part of the on-going mirth
as I saw creation as God's art.
I could feel the boundless love
that was radiating from every being.
Twas the state of bliss I had been dreaming of;
A feeling that is oh so freeing.
I was permanently endowed
by this force I was so familiar with,
with a love, of which I am proud;
A feeling that is more than just a myth.
So I vulnerably opened my heart with pride,
and returned that love worldwide.
Ever since the day
of those subtle realizations
I have made a point of each today
to join in the celebrations;
by laughing, loving, and befriending.
Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 5:21 PM UTC
The majority are for the law
But laws are for the fools
The mighty breaks it with guffaw
Fools blindly abide by the rules.
Laws are made for the mass
To force them to follow some rules
By a few known as the ruling class
That frames them as disciplinary tools.
Laid down to prevent anarchy
Laws turn weapons for the powerful
Legalize the might and hierarchy
Of the forces that control and rule.
Laws apply differently for colors of skin
Some are treated more equal than others
Depend on appearances ***** or clean
They don’t treat all mankind as brothers.
The strangest thing about the legal rules
Is most often for the poor they turn deaf
But then you know rules are for fools
The rulers can get away with mischief.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 3:51 AM UTC
.
He sat in back and passed the time
For every day in school
He didn't say he couldn't see
For glasses just weren't cool
Instead he chose a method
That didn't show his flaw
He made himself the new class clown
He would make the class guffaw
His marks were never stellar
His mind was always spinning fast
He used some misdirection
To make the teacher ask him last
He couldn't see the letters
And some were all askew
He just buried himself deeper
What was a boy to do?
Some letters came out backwards
At least those he could see
But he never ever wondered
"Is there help out there for me?"
Dyslexic and bad vision
Didn't make his marks stand out
No one really ever tried to
Find out what he's about
He sat in back in high school
Reputation well in hand
He was not destined for college
That was not what he had planned
Until one day a certain teacher
With long, blonde, golden hair
Made him move up to the front
"You can't see from back there"
She let him use his humour
To divert her from her work
But, this was one tough teacher
And to teach him, she'd not shirk
She knew he had a problem
And that he had alot of pride
She was bound and so determined
To find what he had deep inside
Away from other students
Talking quiet just to him
She told him, she had the same problem
She'd put herself out on a limb
She was proof that help was out there
That he'd not spend life in the back
And that they would work together
They'd develop an attack
Late lessons teaching reading skills
Getting contacts on the sly
He had found a sense of meaning
He could kiss the clown goodbye
He would never be the leader
But, he would be more than he'd shown
And at his graduation
He would show how he had grown
He wasn't keynote speaker
But he stood up all the same
He told the story of his changing
To all of those who came
He showed them how a teacher
Could change a single man
By doing what they're trained for
And doing what they can
There were tears out in the crowd there
Many people sat and cried
As they listened to his story
And came upon his ride
He talked for fifteen minutes
He had captured all these folks
By telling a true story
And not by telling jokes
He finished up his lecture
And he gave the room a thrill
When he said "I'll be a teacher"
And you know...god damn...he will.
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 7:08 PM UTC
There is underneath my tongue,
underneath the small fold extending from
The floor of the mouth, in between flesh and bone,
a small mass of tissue, which is my tumor.
This mass, of untraceable origin,
does not cause pain, or anguish,
is not evil, is not lethal.
Still it grows
Ever so slightly, it grows
And weighs.
I am reminded of my tumor,
every now and then,
whenever I feel the graying,
whenever I feel the weighing,
every now and then,
Whenever,
I see a strange looking dog with a strange sounding bark,
Whenever,
I see a man miraculously escaping death on the road,
Whenever,
My favorite tune is playing on the radio,
Whenever,
I let out a hearty guffaw,
My tumor grows.
It grows,
It weighs,
It numbs.
Because,
Whenever there's a story to be shared,
Whenever there's a smile to be seen,
Whenever there's a song to be heard,
Whenever you are not there and something goes unsaid,
My tumor holds it in,
And grows.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC