"jives" poems
Mind is a super computer they say.
It can think of millions of stuff in a matter of day.
From the bombings in Iraq,
to the hurt in my best friends heart.
From the moment its up,
It never stops,
To stop. Blink or breathe.
It keeps running at night.
The subconscious consumes power.
Often leaving the mind tired at the break of dawn.
When it meets people,
it reads the signs at many levels.
Subject of talk,
Body language.
Positivity of the vibes,
The way the person jives.
A handshake.
A wink.
A hug.
A swiftly made jug*
It notices everything.
In all this processing.
It accumulates a lot of clutter!
And the mind with all the confusing thoughts,
becomes like hot butter!
Sparks fly like an electronic of fire!
And it needs something to distract it.
What works best is a bit of exercise.
A bit of chattering,
Or writing it all out.
Some find solace in Games or Movies.
Why do they work?
Because they engage all senses,
And make the mind groovy.
Smoking and doping do great too.
But reducing the processors of our mind to grade two!
Hallucinating and dreaming 80% of it.
The mind thinks its being more productive that most of it.
But illusions destroy us further.
Making the mind believe it’s just another wonder.
Wonder though it is.
Using only 10% of it we create,
Science, History, Mystery,
But this wonder has a lot on bate.
If it goes in the wrong direction.
Even thinking too much is an addiction!
Original thoughts are like endorphins to the mind.
Making it jump and do cartwheels inside.
Stimulating discussions are named that way,
Because engaging in one makes us jumpy all day.
It satisfies the mind that,
I have done something constrictive besides,
Whiling my days in sorrow,
and waiting for the morrow.
Mind is like a baby that need attention,
if not given that it runs in all directions.
Mind is a super computer that needs,
the dedication of a programmer.
Be that programmer and feed your mind the right numbers,
And see it become the eighth wonder!
*Jug- short for juggle.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
song jives with the sight
dying sun burning the edges
golden leaf eclipse
i sniff my fingertips the
stink of rusty guitar strings
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
He stands on the stage with muscles tensed and mind relaxed. His ability to perceive anything at once is employed. And there are twins in the hall, a frog in the toilet, and nowhere (out of sight) is the aphrodisiac named Lenny. A common misconception is the conception of any order at all, and everything you want to exist now, or ever existed, a priori: this is the meat-muscle, the excreting weener, of Cain.
"Nowhere, man," states the deaf mute with essence, "must have a musk, a muse." An Algonquin replied, "Stay away from that horrifying ontology."
The man on the stage is at the same time becoming less inquisitive, more unconcerned and fallow, and now he watches their amusement from off-stage!
Now, those poor, poor people on the balcony--watching him, recording every minute--they do not cow him, for he watches them as an aside only, for the figure on the stage rises, mimicking an immense marble statue. His spine stretches, as the calls of his own voice call out, in his own voice emit, for the figure on the stage, especially when he calls, little or no recognition. The only voice, obviously, is this unrecognizable, willful voice that once belonged to him. Although it cannot be, it can. Although it is not possible (that it is not), it is. His personal translation beckons concern.
With all his initial reactions lost, no longer won, no longer controlled, he is, by those very two filters, totally unmediated. But steadfast guile and limitless misery become his (one-two) weapons. The elations, employed at last year's performance, are absent. Crying, he becomes, just as defeated as a whim. But his legs move around, and he jives and jives and jives, like a crazy set of legs, as if almost no technique is being spared. Tonight. Tonight he is earning his pay. Pray. Prey. Tonight! But only a willful moneymaker, a master of his control, in this reality, earns him his pay.
"Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing! For I'm praying you!" screams an old man in the orchestra pit, "For I'm paying you with my best! Tonight! In all ways, I am yours!"
The dancing marble man looks up. He looks at the world. And from the smoke, a seed believes its lofty purpose lost, in a mournful message, in a reluctant admission to that unforeseen realm, of communiqué.
Jan 17, 2010
Jan 17, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
Gambale
he comes from the land down under
a golden axe is in his hand
creating his centrifugal funk
all across his note drenched land
he completed his Italian job
sending everyone high fives
while schmoozing in the white room
high powered electric jives
Nunzia was by his side
he was his right hand man
except of course when making love
inside Lydia's love van
one of the great explorers
of this final wild frontier
like a crouching jaguar
keeping his mind so clear
the magical slinging weapon
faster than an arrow
the vibrations pierced through the skin
down inside the marrow
the thunder current crashing
this pathfinder with attitude
it was dawn over the Nullarbor
at crusing altitude
conducting naughty business
for all those who seek to hear
Kuranda is the place you'll find
his vision so perfectly clear
for his right of passages
a little charmer flying by
a present for the future
noteworker on a natural high
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 21, 2010
Jul 21, 2010 at 3:07 AM UTC
The *** is empty
But it’s still hot
The room becomes hazy
The liquid streaming down
My face is salty
With sweat beading
On my forehead
And the stars and skies above me
Enjoying the infinity
The smoke clings
Kick off your shoes
Forget your name
I’ll take it.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 6:35 AM UTC
Another love letter
with poem and verse
every single syllable
was surely not rehearsed!
So get on with it now,
the rolling of the eyes
the quirky little smirk
the exhausted scoff
or that fond small sigh.
She is beautiful.
Waking up next to her and smelling her body next to mine
knowing that I had her then
sends me to a frenzy again.
The way she let me hold her tight
even though I just make her sweat some more
and all the times she could read me like a book
the quality time that I couldn't ignore.
The playful jabs and jives
that made her giggle, laugh and smile
the powerful feeling
that would make me run the mile.
The way she made me feel
powerless to her affection
the way she lead me every which way
into any which direction.
The patch of gray hair
that she hides in plain sight
but when I brush back her hair
it brings me such delight.
My speckled grays
just salted about this old head
gives me the idea
that we could grow old together instead.
But here we are now
the farthest apart we've ever been.
All because I wasn't strong enough
to fight away temptation
to fight away our sin.
I gave in.
We were both broken people
in need of comfort and attention
but we both avoided the real problem
and we gave it too little a mention.
We both had trust issues
and we just made it worst
and now that our time has ended
my bubble has just burst.
I couldn't give to her
what I didn't rightfully own
it's hard to give your heart to someone
when all you have is stone.
I built up walls for her own protection
and this is the cost
when I tear them down on my own election.
Now I spend every waking moment
knowing what I've done was wrong
to walk back down this lonely path
to whisper this horrid song.
I still think of her often
and fondly as I do
this is my therapy
this is why I am telling you.
She was
my beautiful distraction
she couldn't complete me in anyway
but I would be a liar to not mention any attraction.
The nights I laid there
knowing it would end
and that I just couldn't stay
I just wish
I truly wish
It hadn't happened, and ended this way.
Now she's gone
just like everyone else I ever cared for in life
my beautiful distraction
I'm so sorry, I've failed you
and I continue to live in strife.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
A dim flame flickers,
as if it were dancing to a rhythm..
as if it were alive,
as if it was reflecting a life.
It fights with itself...
extinguish, breathe,
extinguish, breathe.
The light bounces off its surroundings,
Doing a tango with its shadow.
Light, darkness.
Good, evil.
Strength, weakness.
It casts demons on the wall,
It casts illuminations on the wall.
A light breath,
threatens its dance,
while the tiny wick
struggles to provide life.
A drop of oil,
fuels the glimmer,
while the air whirls by,
jeopardizing its fate.
A dim flame flickers,
bobs and weaves,
jumps and jives,
flashes and sparks.
A war between the elements,
Fire, air...
Air, fire.
Radiating beauty,
Providing a glimpse of hope and soul,
Chaotic and raw,
Wild and free,
Magnificent and untamed.
Embrace the dark and honor the shine,
Love the twilight and be engulfed in the magic.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 3:05 PM UTC
There are crafts of countless drafts on this blank page,
accounts of my days of happiness or rage are on this blank page,
hinted goals and affirmations are blueprinted on this blank page,
look and you shall find that my mind roars it's thoughts unfiltered on this blank page,
Behold a story begins to unfold on this blank page.
Ink jives it's hips, thrives in it's own motions and clicks it's fingers in rhythm to the writers melody that lingers,
In order to transcribe what you're trying to describe to the mass of one or many on this blank page,
Sentences are redacted,
subtracted from the line of sight equating to something that now means nothing,
Why?
It could be a mistake,
a misfire of the message I attempted to make,
thinking I had it locked and loaded,
Ready to shoot it across this blank page,
Or...
It could be that I find it unnecessary to reveal deep parts of me,
So...
I become hell bent on destroying any trace that may possibly leave my scent in this blank page,
The land of doodles,
far and wide is it's reach,
with the population consisting of ...
stick-mankind,
Talking poodles,
Confetti filled with noodles,
Whatever you can think of is there in this blank page.
On this blank page I stare deep into it's void and wonder....
What shall we do today ?
May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 4:38 AM UTC
He
Who
Talks
The
Walks
And
Walks
The
Talks
Blabbers
Talks
Makes sense
Senses ****
Walks away
When
He
Is bored
Is tired
He
Walks
Too much
Too far
Likes it
He
Perhaps
Experiences
****
****
That
He
May be
Shielding
He cuts loose
The struggle
He lets go
He
Begins to travel
As he desires
To know
More or less
Battles
The usual mess
But
On the inside
Only on the inside
Distinguishes
The real
From the surreal
He sings
About life
About bikes
About the mountains
Aloud
So that
The world could hear
About her
But on the inside
Only on the inside
He dances
To dance
Just for the ****
He’s not good
But he dances
Jives
Not good
Street dances
Pretty good
Dancing legs
A delight
To his mind
Infectious
With his laugh
And
An asymmetric smile
Lives
In dreams
In parts
The world
For him
Has fallen
The world
For him
Fallen
Still
He rises
For him
He inspires
Himself
Admires
Life
He
Is
He
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
life might lead on like a patterned string
in avalanches of winters and spatters of spring
but I still don't know why the blackbird sings
She swoops and jives on sinatra's swing
but her eyebags halo like saturn's rings
and she patters around on tattered wings
purposefully hunting for the wasps sting
but why the blacker the bird the sweeter the sing
and its like through all that clattering
she can't hear she matters more than every thing
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 8:52 AM UTC
an orange guitar
and a bottle
of cheap Merlot
is a Saturday night
a mistle-toe scented candle
burns:
its flame
moves, jives
to the vibrations
of
Stevie Ray Vaughn.
quiet fall
creeps in
through the
cracked window--
the smell of fields,
of north carolina
air
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 10:36 AM UTC
the palpable sense
that all things have a soul
that the sum of parts
is less than the whole,
perhaps our primitive brains
must make it so,
there are people and places finely tuned
to this ideal and canon rules,
though I'm a man of science and well read,
I side with those that after death
the spirit separates from mortal flesh
resides awhile as a resonance
that jitters and jives until it's a tuned
to the resident cosmic symphony.
Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 5:03 AM UTC
I met her by coincidence
She affected me ever since
We connected despite our distances
She says if I can kick it
Those 20 minutes, I well spent it
Another day, could it happen
Felt vibes and the jives
Since Friday a week past by
A word she didn't spoke
And I wonder why…
Never before I felt alone
could I not let her go
And who would have known
She came back like birds southern home
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Behind the noise and glued-on smiles
Hides the pain of one well-known
She knows that if she leads they’ll follow
But with feet dragging; heads hung low
They say they love her-
Their words are hollow
All they whisper is too loud
Their bitter words she’d make them swallow
If she could find their faces in the crowd
Cold the eyes of one well-known
Grow through months of blame and pain
Silent stays the one they’d follow
Soon they all call out her name
They need a path that has been trod,
For their weakness holds them back
Burdened with jealousy, heavy clad
Their anger turns their hearts to black
Hidden stays the one their hollow
Words tore open every day
She holds it in until she shatters
But they never thought that she would break
The game they play is one of whispers,
And jokes and sneers and jives
What they fail to see is that those whispers
Are seen true for not but foolish lies
She stands tall when she’s around them
Though every night tears soak her sheets
She wants to run or hide or hurt them
But to stoop so low, that is defeat
So inside she holds the pain and sorrow
And all the doubts that no one sees
And all the ones who have to follow
Cannot tell that she can’t breath
Buried in the lies and whispers
Is the heart of one well known
Soon all her friends begin to miss her
As she slips away from them-alone
She’s missing now
They couldn’t follow
To the place she’d gone at last
Their bitter words they had swallowed
And they wished they could rewind the past
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
His senses heightened, on alert
He drives through this neighborhood
Who are these people, he wonders.
They hate me, I’d have no chance out there
Thank god I’m armed.
One the street, a bunch of kids, teenagers
Laughing at each others jives
Fall into silence as the cop car drives past
Giving them the bad eye.
Just another ************ waiting
For an excuse to take us down.
He returns their stares, wondering
Are they selling drugs, planning something
Or just kids on a summer’s eve?
He thinks of his own son out
In a different neighborhood, safe.
The he gets the dispatch call,
Store robbed, two black kids
Teenagers, in his area,
Its his to respond
No time for back up,
Only the growing darkness
And a tingle of fear, adrenaline pumping
He steps from the safety of his car
Loosening his holster strap in anticipation.
Down the street a store ‘s alarm is ringing
The kids sensing trouble take off
Two men come running towards him
They’re large, just kids really, but big
Drawing his sidearm
He yells at them to stop,
They’re surprised, not sure what to do
He’s scared, they seem so big in the twilight
It almost automatic, right out of his combat training
He shoots and then again, and again
As the assailant’s momentum keeps him coming
And then he sees too late,
its just an unarmed kid
Police used to walked the neighborhoods,
Smile say hallo or good morning.
Stop at homes of the old
Checking to see if everything was all right
Used to know the kids, supported them in their games
Sometimes even helped parents
Importantly they were seen as being there to help
Knew the neighborhoods and were in turn known.
Now they ride in cars, gazing dumbly
Out of bullet proof windows.
While outside strangers mingle
Often the only contact, violence and arrests
No wonder, armed like soldiers
Triggered by fear of the unknown
They ****
We need to get close again.
Have them on the streets in our neighborhoods
We need to take the time to know them and they us
To invite them into our homes
Out of their isolating cars
To share our concerns, to close the divide.
Before more deaths occur.
After all these men and women
Used to be us.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
And if we are so musically inclined
then how can you not hear the song of our hearts?
A melody that starts quietly
then makes a crescendo when you look at me
Staccato bursts every time we touch
a steady rhythm of our love
But why do you play deaf
and leave me to listen to this song
this song that's constantly nagging
at the back of my ear
this song that jives
with the beating of our hearts
or is it just my heart
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 3:30 AM UTC
Our song is an endless, ever-repeating litany
Blanks between the lyrics, almost meaningless
Chanted along with our names, echoes incessantly
Just as long as we listen to the melody's caress
Timed beats, let's not lose ourselves
In the words we don't understand
Like forgotten tales stuck in the bookshelves
Abandoned in a merciless wasteland
Heart pulsates with every spoken syllable
Count them, count the seconds of our lives
Will knowing make us less gullible?
Discern the path, which reason jives?
Our song is an eternal, unspoken prayer
Lyrics are often too vague to mean anything
It goes on with only two words to decipher
Your name, my name is all that fills everything.
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
Punters only buy into words
if they believe there’s worth.
I’ve been begging for buyers
before premature birthdays.
Let earth spin unaware –
never questioned its axis.
Hid from the anxious parties,
continued chewing table cloths,
then choked on the spike of a train stub.
Not much value in a decade thrice lived –
standing on the coast in yesterday’s underwear,
a teenage busker sits between hip-hop legacy
as new marble faces arrive in constant rotation.
I’m waiting for my estranged brother dance,
who ran out on me despite his free diary entries.
Desperate for reunion. Bitter for the jives lost.
I’ve stepped further than I ever pictured
but I’ll never walk away from the stalking wolves.
Cubs are warned but continue to ignore all advice.
Lions that scrap with the pack tell me to enjoy the plains.
So I forget the bites and burn this poem in my future face.
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 11:53 AM UTC
I see the sunrise
and it lies within your eyes
that golden sunset from a mile
is like a glimpse of your smile
The blue skies are drifting
and I can hear your heart beating
looking across the endless shores
nothing but you in my mind forevermore
The stars above in constellation
watching them like you in perfection
the waves in motion, crashing down
then I feel you beside me, safe and sound
I sit beneath the moon
the wind blows and jives in tune
listening to the mountain's croon
whispering to me that you'll be here soon
Nov 19, 2019
Nov 19, 2019 at 2:52 AM UTC
I've got this feeling in my bones
it makes my eyes wiggle and it makes my lungs shake -
I've got this nuance inside my body, oh
it makes my voice giggle, oh baby put on the brakes
I said ah, don't shoot -
I said yes, darlin' let's dance to the roof
Oh!
I've got this tingle deep on my insides
the music jives and it makes my **** sway
oh baby let me take you to the vertigo hillside
of brash disillusionment, I'll take you all the way -
I said ah, no don't shoot
I said yes yes darlin' let's dance to the roof
Oh!
I've got this excitement deep in my body
you thrash your hips, you tease and you pray
you beg the God of my fascist inner core
pouting those lips, hoping under the stars I'll take you away
asking questions we know the answers to
what is love, hah who really cares
I've got this snazzy feeling inside I just can't hide, oh
take off those heels and follow me up the stairs!
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 5:04 PM UTC
Tried my luck, under the roof of the New York Dodgers dome
Didn’t make roster, hopped on Route 66, went to another city
Ended up at the front gates of Walter Disney’s home
Which has been re-zoned to downtown LA, oh what a pity
Walked the streets, buzzing to pollinate all the beehives
Saw some Fred Astaire dudes, showing off their colorful jives
Wandered down a blackened, one way street
And who the **** do you think I would meet?
The one and only knife wielding ghetto **** Huggy Bear
Who said, I wasn’t now, looking all that smug, oh dear
Then along came his crew, Bonnie and Clyde
Now I wanted somewhere to ******* well hide
All of a sudden, a striped tomato pulled up and out jumped Starsky n Hutch
Yelling out to the **** Huggy Bear, who spoke double-dutch
Leave the boy alone, and go on and get back on home
Thank god you showed up, for I was ‘bout to write my last poem.
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 12:25 AM UTC
A tiny universe rest on my skin,
A reflection of Amber and gold.
Belly flopped jives and reaping
Good times exists in the howling
Wind.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
I trust not; in all; let alone the one; he who heeds deeds and misleads; let alone lately, late lasting lily lake light-outs, and a fragrance of brothels; let alone ladies; whom shiver in timbers of whimsical whispers; warriors and such, just not so much; let alone stabbing knives, the whirlwind winds, the ancient mimes of moonlit jives; deserted by sunrise, blessed with nocturnal eyes. I trust not; verily; to shout merrily; we were here once; within that shrouded ponce; alas, it has come to pass; a shiny piece of glass; and contemporary jazz; I reminisce on bliss; a dire pegasus; a daring precipice; the circus maximus; hands aloft in the great gymnastic overthrow of ages. In the wake of a blunder, we all stand asunder; clutching crutches, avoiding crunches, unaware of blind arms carrying lame legs forthward, essentially; a wisdom of ages; a grasp of sages; locked cages, and a heap of pages. Resent me not, for I have sought, in the wake of the wry; a luminous high; lustrous and illustrious; foretold stories of quandary, and magnificence; where have we gone; to reach such lowly heights; what have we sown; to silence so prone; and much to condone. Take me back; to the dream so lifelike of circles; take me to the midst of a wardrobe of callous miracles…
…and I will know what I like;
I will know what I like.
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
Yo I wasn't,
Meant to fall from heaven,
Got blessed with war veterans,
There I am again,
Facing the cold cuts of the winds,
Whisperin,
Careless I just sit back,
And let my rillo caress,
Lay my head, between my wife's
Breast,
Reminscing the best,
Time we had, I'm glad,
My years on earth was golden,
Lost seed chosen,
To try to save the world,
Too many boys and girls,
Y'all can have the pearl,
Blacks the new hate,
Whites the new delegate,
Old news, bumped
Out the crate,
Racial division, I see the vision,
Once I found my decision,
Picked wrong over right,
Darkness over the light,
Melanin survivor, soul diver,
Spin wiser than MyGyver
Who's liver,
With the shells I spit, I shook
Up the whole nation,
Saw the sun and moon,
On different rotations,
One side is cold, the other side
Is hot and bold,
Emotions on a roller coastin,
The hearts of men,
Can't break the vision, I see myself living,
In a dream,
Only to wake up, I'm dead fool,
Now I got rouge as my make up,
The crossovers lovely,
Now I see my family,
Tears and hugging me,
Over my casket,
But I feel no pleas,
My souls empty,
Got tempted to come back,
To the scenery,
As a baby,
Why curse my seed,
And add to the bleed,
See different versions of me,
In this old age society,
Quietly,
I sit in the corner, thinking who
Hearing me,
These dreams feel so vividly,
My wife ain't even next to me,
Half dead half alive,
How can I thrive,
And find ways to survive,
These everyday jives,
Don't wanna cause no harm,
embraced the fifth dimension charm,
Carry pain on my arm,
Ring the alarm,
Spirits in every direction, can't
Find no protection,
My souls open, wasted and potent,
Hate loves the company,
And misery,
Spread all over the globe,
Check the fiery abode,
Ain't no love no more,
Too much grief to the heal,
The restore,
I sit on the surface core,
Dwelling the star lines, feel my heart
On a flat line,
Back to the first line, double vision,
Can't see the incision,
I'm dead fool, just remember you're nobody til somebody, kills you,
Sep 25, 2022
Sep 25, 2022 at 1:45 AM UTC
Let's time stroll back to 9-5,
When we used to rock it live,
No time for jives,
As ya catch the beat hivez,
Baby, I got all of the vibes,
Rocking this alive,
And well and you tell
By the smell,
Of my cologne, let's get it on,
Young thick and strong,
Got these hoes sprung,
Beat on my chest like king kong,
They know I got it going on,
Remix with the fresh kicks, ***** copped
Like fresh drops of bricks,
Smoother than Rick,
So keep on talking ****
Got lead to ya head, you'll be feelin' it,
Fools mad, cuz they
Women's rubbin' they *****
They show me they ****
Better believe I'll take a blitz,
Me and my crew got this,
You tell the temp, from the ice drippin'
Off of my wrist,
Now success crowded around me,
Feed the ecstasy, suddenly
Can't shake the potency,
Like Quincy,
Babygirl feeds me,
The pretty itty bitty kitty,
Tingly, got me feeling greedy,
Cuz I love the weight,
Or better yet the dough,
I know,
Cash on the floo, with liquor maxed out
Fo sho,
Delivers like a Tyson blow,
Repeat of my lyrics on a cycle,
Blasting on the radio,
High til it's cold in ya eye,
So why lie, I'll still try,
To get ya heart jumpin', pumpin'
Mad cells, as the crowds yell,
My name you know the game,
Is to be told, not sold,
Stay true to the ol skool principle,
Iceberg upcoming disciple,
Jan 15, 2023
Jan 15, 2023 at 3:35 AM UTC