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"haves" poems
Whirlpool of whirling quaint Inequality brewing in the Winepress of smithereens Fragile polity. Voices of weariness cried Out from the wasteyard of Waste for succour, Pointing fingers of Recrimination towards The abyss of drouth , Entangled in conflicts Of interest. Winds of improvised emblem Bearing hunchback of Woes, Raising hands from the Drowning deep sea For rescue like A dejected beautiful Vigaro in a Turbulent ocean of quarrel With her spouse. Whereas reddish fluids of life Runs across the same veins And arteries of haves And haves-not but Cottage of interests Hoisting avalanche of Rainbow-coloured flags Standing aloof on the Pole of misrule, Demarcating their interests. No accommodation for wants In the corridor of affluence. Wants on a trade mission With wealthy but caged in The confinement of wealth. Winds of inequality blew Whirler of wants into The marrow of the Haves-not. Rains of inequality passing Through a lockage of lack Into the improvised, Doling-out poverty to Gain the control of Wealth. Alas! Blindness sees inner Vision of darkness from The households of political lamia. Alas! Deafness hears Discordant vague voices Of failure from the forest of frustration. Alas! Dumbness speaks Language of gnomes out Of the vale of forgotten treasures. Alas! A four year tenancy turning into decades of challenges. But we shall revive our hope and raise our voices tomorrow.
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Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
HYMN OF INEQUALITY
Always a man to believe, Always a man to dream a dream, Always a man it seems and it seems Always a man he breaks out, Takes his chance Always a man. Always a man significant, Always a man he's brave and decent, Always a man who haves and havenots, Favours his chances Always a man Always a man who believe's that he can't, Always a man a deep thinker then shalt, Always a man in no shadow of doubt Always a man pours out sensible, Learns his rights Always a man. Always a man a gambler he can, Always a man lived life and he won, Always a man risk, twist, stick craps up his tricks, Always a man watches his mind all about, A beat to his dance Always a man. Always a man Sinatra he sang, Always a man with a dodgy plan, Always a man that's for sure, Always a man short sharp ponders out, In any circumstance Always a man. Always a man peaceful and proud, Always a man targets his pay, Always a man working harder each day, Always a man in with a shout, To no shadow of a doubt Always a man. Always a man he drinks lemonade, Always a man look what he made, Always a man with his masquerade, Always a man with his dollar and bill Send him on as Always a man, Always a man not paid what to do, Always a man to figure a fool, Always a man safe safe and he saved Always a man in an ocean of shout. Sailing calms a human Always a man. Always a man with a God given skill, Always a man with a will and a will, Always a man who leads a private suitcase, Always a man with a bit of clout, Then angel shy silence 'Always a man' Doctors Orders. O'Reily@21082014
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Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
Doctors Orders
Always a man to believe, Always a man to dream a dream, Always a man it seems and it seems Always a man he breaks out, Takes his chance Always a man. Always a man significant, Always a man he's brave and decent, Always a man who haves and havenots, Favours his chances Always a man Always a man who believe's that he can't, Always a man a deep thinker then shalt, Always a man in no shadow of doubt Always a man pours out sensible, Learns his rights Always a man. Always a man a gambler he can, Always a man lived life and he won, Always a man risk, twist, stick craps up his tricks, Always a man watches his mind all about, A beat to his dance Always a man. Always a man Sinatra he sang, Always a man with a dodgy plan, Always a man that's for sure, Always a man short sharp ponders out, In any circumstance Always a man. Always a man peaceful and proud, Always a man targets his pay, Always a man working harder each day, Always a man in with a shout, To no shadow of a doubt Always a man. Always a man he drinks lemonade, Always a man look what he made, Always a man with his masquerade, Always a man with his dollar and bill Send him on as Always a man, Always a man not paid what to do, Always a man to figure a fool, Always a man safe safe and he saved Always a man in an ocean of shout. Sailing calms a human Always a man. Always a man with a God given skill, Always a man with a will and a will, Always a man who leads a private suitcase, Always a man with a bit of clout, Then angel shy silence 'Always a man' Doctors Orders. O'Reily@21082014
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45
Clothes of all kinds on the sidewalks sold for crazy cheap prices. Kids and old people alike scramble fast towards through mountains of bargains, this once inaccessible and highly prized scene of Fashion sense, separating the haves and the have-nots. I was born with skin color, names, and belongings that no longer made sense when the time came to decide and become.  I ran to meet a friend at a corner a long time ago when the Ukay surplus clothing stores were just starting out. He carried a plastic of hiking boots and a pair of stylish jeans. Laughing and smiling at the exchanges. A pair of running shoes and a jacket that was already too big for a woman.
0
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 3:13 AM UTC
SURPLUS TEXTILES
Doubt So easy to say. So hard to get past. I've always had a little bit of it reflected inwardly because I've never been able to attain the appearance I wanted. I've never been quite thin enough. My hair has never been quite long enough. My skin never quite clear enough. And because of this its caused me to doubt other areas. If I can't get in peak physical shape, what makes me think I can become financially independent?  Get a good job?  Start my own business? If I can't control something as simple as a complexion, hair follicle or calorie, how do I think I can take on the outside world? It's the doubt that eats you. It's the doubt that tucks you into your grave with the could haves because you cancelled yourself out. You're problem is not in your thighs or uneven eyebrows. Your problem is you think they're your problem. Stop taking yourself out. You are worthy. You are so. worth. loving.
0
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
Hair follicle
left from misplaced lovers lead many different lives capture the trinkets and hide them in the bottom drawer until spring cleaning once a year a time capsule of could haves and should haves in the heat of the dual we want to pass the necklace to his hand or drop it like a love note floating into a grand canyon swimming in the deep blue of blue jean pockets until a deep sea diver finds the treasure selling the metal for some change will not put a red sold sign on his forehead for another to take away i put the key to my heart on a chain under my pillow so i will not lose it while you are away
0
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
Wandering Jewelry
ANGELINA By Williamsji Maveli Waking up next morning  in a fairy dream She is swimming **** in the water  stream an adorable, elegant, celestial beauty She is in her teens  looking  naughty Seeing her own innocence and perfection I convert her into verses with an inspiration Sweet, seductive, natural, She is tempting, shy, desirable,  admirable my own ANGELINA wandering  next night  along the sea shore She is feeling the touch of  the waves roar She  has particular tastes, talents Things have to be just right for moments And one of her must-haves is a pool Where she can enjoy the tides of cool lovely, elogant, ****** She is sensual, seductive innocent, adorable my own ANGELINA By Williamsji Maveli www.williamsji.com
0
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 2:59 AM UTC
ANGELINA
Since then...I allowed my heart to take whatever form it wanted. I trusted the process, letting the heart mould itself as it is supposed to. I had ample faith that the end is far....little did I realise the end is right next to me. At first, it felt like a bulldozer had savaged my entire being. Your words left my mind empty, without a way forward. A deep grave of hate slowly formed...that is where you would end up. As appetizing the thought...I want nothing to do you. Even you residing in my den of enemies is not worth it. I have done a thorough clean up of hoodlums and heartbreakers like you. You seem so pointless. This anger towards you is pointless. I look forward to the treasures that will bloom from this. I'm convinced there are treasures. You have no hold over my dreams and I refuse to allow my heart to slump in your filth. It was hard, felt like the world was dumped on my shoulders, soul dark and heavy, mouth dry and tears flooding my living room. But after a serious self-talk....I remembered my worth, remembered you mean nothing to me....you have no hold on my destiny. The love you spoke of was and is fake. I don't need it. I don't need that sort of make-believe love which has no truth... The kind that loves the idea of love...yet despises love itself. I have no place for thieves and liars....robbers and fakes. My mind keeps telling me this is for the best and that better days are to come. I feel sorry for the one you chose, she knows nothing of your hoodlum ways and smooth tongue. Coated with every lie possible yet disguised with a fake-romance finish. She knows not of your empty heart... your inability to be real... your other side... your effortless ways of hurting another... precious time which meant zero to you... your exhausted yet experienced hands.. your over used 'I will wait for you'.... your conniving ways disguised by caring efforts... your smile and charm packaged by pure deceit. She is clueless. And so in love....I shake my head in despair for you dear sister. I trust you will not endure the heartache I did. I hope he will see you a better person than I. I trust he repects you. Genuinely loves you. She will bear the brunt of your heart smashing ways. I am done and over the 'could haves & would haves'... New day brings new opportunity. Time to listen to my soul and feed my mind. Re-enjoy the beauty of living and re-mind myself of may chosen path.
0
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Avalanche of Freedom
Since then...I allowed my heart to take whatever form it wanted. I trusted the process, letting the heart mould itself as it is supposed to. I had ample faith that the end is far....little did I realise the end is right next to me. At first, it felt like a bulldozer had savaged my entire being. Your words left my mind empty, without a way forward. A deep grave of hate slowly formed...that is where you would end up. As appetizing the thought...I want nothing to do you. Even you residing in my den of enemies is not worth it. I have done a thorough clean up of hoodlums and heartbreakers like you. You seem so pointless. This anger towards you is pointless. I look forward to the treasures that will bloom from this. I'm convinced there are treasures. You have no hold over my dreams and I refuse to allow my heart to slump in your filth. It was hard, felt like the world was dumped on my shoulders, soul dark and heavy, mouth dry and tears flooding my living room. But after a serious self-talk....I remembered my worth, remembered you mean nothing to me....you have no hold on my destiny. The love you spoke of was and is fake. I don't need it. I don't need that sort of make-believe love which has no truth... The kind that loves the idea of love...yet despises love itself. I have no place for thieves and liars....robbers and fakes. My mind keeps telling me this is for the best and that better days are to come. I feel sorry for the one you chose, she knows nothing of your hoodlum ways and smooth tongue. Coated with every lie possible yet disguised with a fake-romance finish. She knows not of your empty heart... your inability to be real... your other side... your effortless ways of hurting another... precious time which meant zero to you... your exhausted yet experienced hands.. your over used 'I will wait for you'.... your conniving ways disguised by caring efforts... your smile and charm packaged by pure deceit. She is clueless. And so in love....I shake my head in despair for you dear sister. I trust you will not endure the heartache I did. I hope he will see you a better person than I. I trust he repects you. Genuinely loves you. She will bear the brunt of your heart smashing ways. I am done and over the 'could haves & would haves'... New day brings new opportunity. Time to listen to my soul and feed my mind. Re-enjoy the beauty of living and re-mind myself of may chosen path.
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39
Yes, it's the racing carnival, Fashionistas so topical, Significance trivial, Eye candy, Drunk and silly, Studs in suits, Looking beaut, Glitterati, Haves and wannabes, For the paparazzi, Doyens of the racing industry, You all look fabulous, Gambling magnanimous, Thoroughbreds' gloss, Media hype and dross, Great racing day, ***** bets and babes, Stuff the plebs today, Our city's public holiday, Melbourne Cup Day!
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Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
Melbourne Cup Day
The Heart-of-Promise, filled on his Wanton Day Sorted the Journal to fix his Dates ahead But the Noise down below would get in his Way To record this Occasion; And the Dread Of another Year before his License To join the main and raucous World of the Teens Each page A-Party; Each Chapter A-Spotting And every Mouth speaks of Haves and Have-Beens This is the Juice which every Child must Drink Sour enough to turn his Locks into Stress But the Door came A-Knocking; Mum held the Cake Sixteen Candles he blew; And Hope came to Bless. His Heart now strong; His Promise just fulfilled And left his Room sweeping the Dust he killed.
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Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: BENJAMIN DALEY
By: Jack Wilder (Ramon Carlos T. Castillo) Tell him I said "hi", I think it was a lie, When I told myself, I wouldn't fall for him. Tell him I asked "why?", We couldn't see what we could've become, How it would've been all perfect, But I forgot these were all just what ifs and would haves. Tell him I wanted to go back, Visit the past when were still just good friends, I could've settled for just that, But selfishness occured. Tell him I asked "is it wrong?", For me to fall in love with him? That it was considered sin, For me to look after someone with no conditions given? Tell him this is goodbye, I think it's best we part ways, I'm done with being jealous and not being able to do anything, That it breaks my heart to see him with someone. But one last thing, Ask him if I could just love him from afar, Because seeing his smiles, Heals the wounds he gave my heart.
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Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 10:15 PM UTC
Dear You, From Me
I was driving along the M4 Mind wandering when I saw The Chrysler 300C That you used to drive. I remember walking past the car Every morning And dreading seeing you And falling for you again. But today was different There was no pain No memories cutting my mind Missing you. I was numb Body and soul turning blue Choking on my regrets.
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
What If's and Should Haves
Conspicuous Consumption Look at all I have I've got money burning In this power grab Between the haves and have nots I'm one of the haves Enjoying this life of luxury Sitting in its lap Conspicuous Consumption Take a breath and breath in deep Take as many as you want Although this stuff ain't cheap Money is no object It means nothing to me Now that you ask, yes Virginia Money does grow on trees Conspicuous Consumption In this world of give and take If it's no longer suitable It becomes throw away Even if you tire of it No need for it to break Conspicuous Consumption The phrase of the day
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
Conspicuous Consumption
Memories of past magnificence A pall now hangs over her Echoes of screams in the west Decomposed disillusion Inhumanity Insecurity Split personality Search warrants for the haves Kicked in doors for the have nots Mr. Officer……Mi innocent The muzzle of your gun has me reticent From slavery our ancestors did run In the streets the blood of my countrymen run When will di trouble dun She has been battered and scarred Her name feathered and tarred While the gleam in her eyes is diminished She is by no means finished Still the heartbeat of a nation Vibrant, trendsetting, schizophrenic Sometimes there is panic in this state of chronic Some more equity is required in my city The financial capital What about human capital? Some deemed worthless Existing in communities of sacrificial lambs. Others are sacred cows…..Wolves in sheepskin Who pollute the air with noxious verbiage White collar facades hide evil intent. She will rise again. If we have the will and the way My city……KINGSTON!!!!!
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Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 2:34 PM UTC
Kingston
America needs a poor, ***** mother for president. We need a Muslim for vice president and a feminist to lead the army. America needs a homeless man with no health insurance and AIDS to allocate food stamps, gays to run the senate, and lesbians to run the house. America needs a president who’s been shot at, ***** and ****** on his whole life. A person who has held their dying child, losing a battle that cancer has already won, buried up to the knees hospital bills. America should be run by a person that wakes up every morning with no heat or air conditioner. Who has fought in a war, shakes in the night, and lives on minimum wage. Someone who takes the bus,  the subway, and owns one pair of sneakers, There is no time or money for anything else. We need an inner city teacher for president. Someone who spends 4 hours on Sundays preaching for president, Just to go home and put on his wife's dress. America needs a straight talker and a street walker to head the FBI. An illegal for the CIA, And a transgender for the DOJ. But that will never happen. What I have realized is that there is no longer a distinction between what is right, and what is real. Real, is a leader is one that has been to the free clinic, waited in line at the DMV, and buys clothes from Walmart. Real, is a president that is no stranger to violence. A vice president who has been to county. That has been fed jail food, strip searched, and wasted years that they will never get back. We, the people do not fly around in private jets, Puffing on Cuban cigars. We, the people do not solely consist of old, rich men, Making decisions for young, poor women. Telling us what we can and can’t do. Who we can and can’t love. Widening the gap between the haves and haves nots.   We the people know hard work, We know blood, We know sweat, We know tears, But what we do not know, Is how to engage ourselves in the goings on in the world around us. Take responsibility, hold your own, and question everything.
0
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
We the Sheeple
America needs a poor, ***** mother for president. We need a Muslim for vice president and a feminist to lead the army. America needs a homeless man with no health insurance and AIDS to allocate food stamps, gays to run the senate, and lesbians to run the house. America needs a president who’s been shot at, ***** and ****** on his whole life. A person who has held their dying child, losing a battle that cancer has already won, buried up to the knees hospital bills. America should be run by a person that wakes up every morning with no heat or air conditioner. Who has fought in a war, shakes in the night, and lives on minimum wage. Someone who takes the bus,  the subway, and owns one pair of sneakers, There is no time or money for anything else. We need an inner city teacher for president. Someone who spends 4 hours on Sundays preaching for president, Just to go home and put on his wife's dress. America needs a straight talker and a street walker to head the FBI. An illegal for the CIA, And a transgender for the DOJ. But that will never happen. What I have realized is that there is no longer a distinction between what is right, and what is real. Real, is a leader is one that has been to the free clinic, waited in line at the DMV, and buys clothes from Walmart. Real, is a president that is no stranger to violence. A vice president who has been to county. That has been fed jail food, strip searched, and wasted years that they will never get back. We, the people do not fly around in private jets, Puffing on Cuban cigars. We, the people do not solely consist of old, rich men, Making decisions for young, poor women. Telling us what we can and can’t do. Who we can and can’t love. Widening the gap between the haves and haves nots.   We the people know hard work, We know blood, We know sweat, We know tears, But what we do not know, Is how to engage ourselves in the goings on in the world around us. Take responsibility, hold your own, and question everything.
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48
is drinking not one but three mugs of ghiradelli hot cocoa is putting the heat on 73 degrees is thinking on tuesday about friday is hitting the snooze button yet again is getting a full eight hours of sleep is turning red while sledding is staying up on hello poetry is not thinking about the "should haves"
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Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 6:45 PM UTC
indulgence
mortality's taste is bittersweet as death's brush paints life's new lease impressionistic could haves, should haves, would haves minimalist suprematism shapes dreams surrealistic hopes time's urgency hammered home by temporal clarity top 10 lists glazed to topography as future blends to present amid trees a familiar CICU a family gathering beds with tubes and wires monitors flashing and beeping refreshing past's distance with updated parking prices will the ending be the same?
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May 31, 2010
May 31, 2010 at 1:22 PM UTC
The Hospital
The land of the free The huddled masses Salute the flag and Raise your glasses. Just going along fine; You never had a hunch And then America gives A sneaky sucker punch. With malice toward none The land of equality Everyone the same Just like you and me, Unless he is black Or some other non-white. Then, not really equal. No, sorry. Not quite. The rules are laid out, Not in the constitution. To be okay in the USA Is an ironclad institution. You don’t make waves, Or rise above your station. A handpicked few white men Are in charge of this nation. The land of the free The huddled masses Salute the flag and Raise your glasses. Just going along fine; You never had a hunch And then America gives A sneaky sucker punch. So, don’t start whining About equal opportunity. That really isn’t for you Only for the likes of me. I’m a rich white man, you see I control most of what there is Which is almost everything. Tell you when to take a whizz. There are haves and have-nots And you know which you are. If you’re lucky you get to own A TV and inexpensive car. But other than voting for The two parties we allow You just pay taxes, that’s it. Nothing else, not ever, not now. The land of the free The huddled masses Salute the flag and Raise your glasses. Just going along fine; You never had a hunch And then America gives A sneaky sucker punch.
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Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
SUCKER PUNCH
You think your children are being educated But they're actually being ego deflated They aren't being taught How to form a thought Because ... That's not good for the machine . You hear the fringe word meditation As if it's some kind of voodoo incantation Instead they want you to be fed A steady stream of entertainment As a way of keeping containment Off the Grid Off the  grid The inspector said We can't be having that Regulations regulations regulations Thats all he had to say Truth be known ... .....he was just a clone Latest model on display Notice how the men in blue Are becoming almost savage... ....In their  demeanor As they are primed to follow blind The Crooked Mind Of the Master overseer So totally convinced That they never even sensed They never were...   ..really A volunteer Primed and loaded Each one having been pre - coded By the educators in the classrooms That are The soul burning incinerators Burning away every trace Of any human emotions While swallowing down Steroid laced Psychotic mind bending potions As the rest of us are being fed... ... instead Of our daily bread Mind bending views Prepackaged news To keep us all shuffled up Off center So as to totally confuse That way we don't ever wonder Why we choose Once we find we're standing In the line to buy the latest toys   Keeping our  heads filled.. ..with noise That way We don't have any time to think As long as everyone behaves. They'll never know That they are slaves   No shackles , chains or wooden canes   To keep the masses in production We have the latest must-haves .. .... new introductions.    But time to sit and think...... That's not what the machine wants Us to do ! That's not In the latest matrix Silencing the external In search of those things That should be ETERNAL Will make you unfit for society As your number is etched Into The overseers recorder In this .... ...THE NEW WORLD ORDER.
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
Overseer is watching
You think your children are being educated But they're actually being ego deflated They aren't being taught How to form a thought Because ... That's not good for the machine . You hear the fringe word meditation As if it's some kind of voodoo incantation Instead they want you to be fed A steady stream of entertainment As a way of keeping containment Off the Grid Off the  grid The inspector said We can't be having that Regulations regulations regulations Thats all he had to say Truth be known ... .....he was just a clone Latest model on display Notice how the men in blue Are becoming almost savage... ....In their  demeanor As they are primed to follow blind The Crooked Mind Of the Master overseer So totally convinced That they never even sensed They never were...   ..really A volunteer Primed and loaded Each one having been pre - coded By the educators in the classrooms That are The soul burning incinerators Burning away every trace Of any human emotions While swallowing down Steroid laced Psychotic mind bending potions As the rest of us are being fed... ... instead Of our daily bread Mind bending views Prepackaged news To keep us all shuffled up Off center So as to totally confuse That way we don't ever wonder Why we choose Once we find we're standing In the line to buy the latest toys   Keeping our  heads filled.. ..with noise That way We don't have any time to think As long as everyone behaves. They'll never know That they are slaves   No shackles , chains or wooden canes   To keep the masses in production We have the latest must-haves .. .... new introductions.    But time to sit and think...... That's not what the machine wants Us to do ! That's not In the latest matrix Silencing the external In search of those things That should be ETERNAL Will make you unfit for society As your number is etched Into The overseers recorder In this .... ...THE NEW WORLD ORDER.
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80
My jeans zip is popping My body's gone crazy Everyone is noticing My memory's a bit hazy. The once upright ******* are dropping and these flushes aren't for stopping. It's the hormones That's what it's about All around my middle I'm getting more stout. There's nowhere to hide There's nowhere to run My newly aquired mustache And chin hairs are fit to stun. I joined a club that weekly meet, They tell me all the can't haves, I just go home and eat. Don't have this, don't have that, I paid all that money just for a chat. My feet are still the same size shoe I could always buy them something new. Time passes quickly, teenage years gone, There's no more excuses to rely on. The one about puppy fat ran out long ago, So now it's time for a revamp From head to toe... © Hazel
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Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 3:28 PM UTC
HORMONES
Amid our disutopian bubble The suffering masses on white sand huddle As tourists react with care and concern Bikinied women and health workers learn The refugees have come ashore Weary, tired and forlorn The clash of leisure and deprivation Of suntan, and suffering, and dehydration The haves and have nots meet at once The beggars crash the rich man’s lunch
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Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 10:16 AM UTC
The Rich Man’s Lunch
the way we wish it was the way it ought to be but fate has set us on a course of would haves should have been.
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Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 3:19 PM UTC
we wish (for M)
There are tears that fall in the ocean and tears that fall from the sky there are tears on the faces of loved ones don't ask me I can't tell you why. In this bltzkrieg I see only compulsion and the desire to see so much more In compulsion I see my destruction Tell me what is it all for? I look but can't find perhaps I am blind to what stares at me in the face but the forest's no place to play hide and seek it's so dark and so bleak and the creaking of trees become the creaking of decks on lost ships on high seas and I am so weak can't be bothered to hide or to seek any more. Tell me what is it all for? Is it the lust that burns deep within, for a pipe of tobacco and a pitcher of gin and do I win when I win or is it the gin? I lose some choose some confuse many any one could which brings me again to a knock on the wood for luck. **** ..superstition time yeah that'll do me real fine let me throw down the runes in the ruin that I am let me talk to the man up above let him lend me some love let it fit like a glove. but send an umbrella the tears will come they always see another self fulfilling prophesy that ties me in knots and would haves and could haves and I have lots of excuses and ruses and time on my hands life's metal bands have put me in chains Link by a link of the words in the ink and bound by a round about where I never get out to begin again and to sing again caged birds caged words tired lions in irons all in the mess of a life. I confess it's not good in the forest you'd think I'd at least see the wood but blind again I find again only the dead bits that fell onto dead ground and round and round I go again.
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Playground
There are tears that fall in the ocean and tears that fall from the sky there are tears on the faces of loved ones don't ask me I can't tell you why. In this bltzkrieg I see only compulsion and the desire to see so much more In compulsion I see my destruction Tell me what is it all for? I look but can't find perhaps I am blind to what stares at me in the face but the forest's no place to play hide and seek it's so dark and so bleak and the creaking of trees become the creaking of decks on lost ships on high seas and I am so weak can't be bothered to hide or to seek any more. Tell me what is it all for? Is it the lust that burns deep within, for a pipe of tobacco and a pitcher of gin and do I win when I win or is it the gin? I lose some choose some confuse many any one could which brings me again to a knock on the wood for luck. **** ..superstition time yeah that'll do me real fine let me throw down the runes in the ruin that I am let me talk to the man up above let him lend me some love let it fit like a glove. but send an umbrella the tears will come they always see another self fulfilling prophesy that ties me in knots and would haves and could haves and I have lots of excuses and ruses and time on my hands life's metal bands have put me in chains Link by a link of the words in the ink and bound by a round about where I never get out to begin again and to sing again caged birds caged words tired lions in irons all in the mess of a life. I confess it's not good in the forest you'd think I'd at least see the wood but blind again I find again only the dead bits that fell onto dead ground and round and round I go again.
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54
*She said she liked her coffee cold and dark like the seas separating her bed and Denmark:* harsh and bitter and brown in the largest cup we own, so when drinking it your nose would drown into an abyss of cheap-coffee-granule- buy-one-get-one-free **** and delivered with it upon the stolen tray, taken from that shop's Kitchen Must Haves display, was a plate with two triangles of lightly toasted toast laid out like the ankles of my late Grandma (but we weren't together then so, to you, it just looked like some toast arranged nicely on a plate for us two); also on the stolen tray from that shop's Kitchen Must Haves display, was a lovely array of cut of up fruit arranged liked canapés at every cheap-wedding-buffet: grapes cut into unfathomable shapes and slices of kiwi our fingers could never negotiate and avocado which was there just to cure invisible weight gain and bad morning breath, but that's what Google told me so I can't take it as a guarantee; and in all of this I was apparently making a fool of myself because serving you a delicious breakfast to the sound of Frank Sinatra's Moon River is not what we discussed, ever- even last night or last week, in fact, we never talked about this horrendously unique breakfast. Happy Anniversary.
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Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY
I look up at the skylight Rain drops coalescing The reflection of a few drops Dancing on the wall In the breeze Which is more A gale Howling and loud Outside Destroying trees Somewhere A silvery strand of a cobweb Dances and shimmers In the pale sun Playing hide and seek The silence in my room So loud The thunder outside So far The daffodils on my windowsill Have died and dried Papery petals, a brilliant amber now Green stalks greedily still drinking While the petals thirst The tops of the trees Through my window Freshly showered Move like a woman Dancing for her lover Seducing Shimmying And yet I think of Delhi Desertlike and brown Hostile and cruel The dirt streaked faces The shining eyes Of the beggar children At crossings The eunuchs who bully The traffic, the fumes The noise that deafens The rich women who flaunt Diamonds and lovers The clubs for the haves The stares from the have-nots And I come back To the music of the rain On the skylight And the chirp of a bird Somewhere far away
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Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
Memories of Delhi, from far away...