"laude" poems
Shackled imprisoned in an oval office
Called Robben island Transformed
Unshackled twenty seven years later
Freed a nation from an apartheid regime
Inspired the world from the Grand parade
A Universal Icon Humanitarian *** laude
Now honoured in the halls of Valhalla
Glorifying God...Looks upon us
With Love from the heavenly realm
INKULULEKO AHLULA
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
Parents assembled
cameras at the ready
the graduates march
with mortarboards tassled.
Faculty tributes
ever glowing praises
but graduates listen
with an eye to the prize.
Pomp and Circumstance
playing throughout the gym
while graduates ignore
with hopes for a cupcake.
Kindergarten bites.
Nov 15, 2009
Nov 15, 2009 at 11:02 AM UTC
Five minute street artists
and insomnia mongers.
****** drunk blondes
and finger snapping phat booties.
Street geniuses
bred by Machiavellian philosophies
cypher dreams over tokes
of marijuana smoke.
Color worshipping narcotic traffickers,
and bread winners
parole corners
sporting fitted caps and twisting fingers.
Senile war veterans
beg for change in cardboard boxes
from the American dreams
they afforded.
Hard workers with every ethnicity
molded into each pore of their face,
rub shoulders with tourists at traffic stops
barely escaping tires crushing their feet.
Sartorial geniuses with no pants
switch hips in knock-off stellos heels,
selling the origin of the world on avenues
next to Arab Halal food.
Cooperate ties and blue collars chafe ***** on subways.
nodding in and out of Daily News articles
while oxygen blessed by asparagus ****
pump through their noses.
Summa *** laude number runners dictate economies
From sky-crapper offices,
And powered rain swallows their concrete each winter,
With no apologies.
Jun 2, 2011
Jun 2, 2011 at 11:01 PM UTC
You will never know what it means
to be a father, until you have a son.
The overflowing joy, and the love
that echoes in the ***** of my being
when I looked upon you;
the sense of honor when I’m able to pass
on something good into your hands;
the heartbreak brought by my demons
that keep me from being the man
I want you to see.
The man that stands in front of you
or has left your life, who
has the power over you — for good
and for bad — that will never let go,
is the man you’ll only see.
A privilege, a great burden it is to be that man.
Sense of manhood, self-worth, responsibility
to the world around you — there’s something
that must be passed from me to you.
Yet, to put this in words is hard.
A time when it’s hard to speak from the heart —
that’s where we live. My life is tainted
by thousands negligibility, and the poetry
of my spirit in silenced by the thoughts
and cares of daily affairs.
The song of being a man is silent.
I find myself full of advice but devoid of belief.
I don’t have all the answers to your questions
but I do understand. I see you struggling
and discovering, striving upward
and I see myself reflected in your soul.
So I can say, I have been there.
To walk, run and fall, I’ve learned.
I have had my first love, my first heartbreak.
Sadness and fear, all of them I’ve known.
I have wept tears of sorrows and joy
but knew that God’s hands were on my shoulders.
On moments of darkness, I thought I’d
never see light, but He’s the light.
I want you to be near Him, the Light.
I have felt myself emptied into the
secret of the universe, moments when the
smallest slight threw me into rage.
When I barely had the strength to walk myself,
I have carried others, yet some other times
I left them standing by the side of the road
with their eyes begging.
There are times I feel I’ve done enough
and better as what others expect; yet other times
I feel I am a charlatan, a failure.
I am a man, as you are.
And albeit you’ll walk your own earth
and move through your own clock,
the same sun that rose on me, will rise on you.
The same seasons, the same paths.
We will always be different,
but will always be the same.
These aren’t meant to make you into me,
rather, I’d like you to use them in yours.
To watch you become your own self
is my joy. To be your father is no more like being
the Summa *** Laude in my class, it’s much more.
You allowed me to touch mystery for a moment
You are my love made flesh,
and I want you to pass that love along.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 7:08 AM UTC
**graduated *** laude
with a PhD in madness,
practitioner of your
own philosophy as
a harbinger of doom,
tales of darkness where
the deck is always stacked,
what's the sense of light
to a harsh night
or spring's flourish
to winter's brashness,
you don't need to be
a rocket scientist
to diagnose absurdity**
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC?
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected])
Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor
Knowing not your true colour and texture
Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery
With the so limited human capacity
In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss
But O love! Why are you ever crooked?
Young men and women in strength of their sinews
Toil day and night in ******* of humanity
Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love
Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze
Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence
In the foolish quest for love equillibria
But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love
You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts
O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless?
You hate the learned but you favour the strong
You hate professors but you favour the soldiers
You hate the rich but you favour the agile
You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers
You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian
You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes
You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin
You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress
O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical?
Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality
In all of your history you scored sum *** laude
In the duo as blend of your domain, Look;
You never dwell in a genuine companionship
You like where the couth will interject;
Amidst fornication between married and single ones
Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion
Amidst miscegenation between black and white
Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame
Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young
Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp
Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant
Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil
Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians
Amidst impious ********** among the suave gays
O love! O love! You are the most wicked force!
Love I am told; your colour is red
You may be red or you may not be red
But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration
For your herculean ability to bend the most wise;
In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend
In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend
Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor,
In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte
To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine
Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris
Among the then humanity and the then animality,
In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers
In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser
In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen
Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps
In the eyes of the Roman beholders
The father and the son only to sent the empire
To the love forlorn smithereens!
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
a loop of spume immune to fumes of eastern tombs
a burnin'; a mad flash of candied wrath
and junebug randy newman;
what rumbles jest in vestments yet
to loom a knit or pearl two... a ****** crest
of ***** wrecks and rubber necks
to view you...
a nop of lopsy,
fever pitched in thicket rich begonia;
and roman roads
too golden
kicks
from hydro
in
your hedge
row.
a droop of noon in cool remove
from gypsum dim sum laude.
a drowning witch on boney creeks
of needles and salami.
untongued. a pool of fringe
rhymes with orange,
yes a door-hinge,
off it's moorings...
off it's Meds
death beds
for trampolines
in petrified forests...
a nop of lopsy, frogging Gatsby,
greatly famished to the Nines;
an olden toll of wish fits
then nothing
comes.
and that's
Life.
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 2:11 PM UTC
Love, faith and forgiveness principal are in
Christian school. Torrid anger thou must flay
While it's still displaying on the eastern tray
Ere its set on the *** laude of thy sterling
Prize. The other meek cheek of thine turn--
Though tough--to him that seek thy burn.
Gladly go not one but twain miles with
Him that bid thee. Distribute cheerfully
To widows cream bread and wine; the needy
And orphans--whether you're rolling in it--
Never neglect, and make no open show
Of thy charity: its trumpet do not blow.
Make mammon thy master nay. Believe
The Bible though you cannot It fathom
Out--the Spirit thy heart will guide. Kingdom
Eternal chiefly pursue; to goodness cleave.
Both parents and priests honour, and men
In authority obey. Keep the Lord's pen.
Fast and pray, playing not to the gallery.
In heaven's safe thy treasure store, where
Robbers and rust have no access nor share.
For worldly wants, soul, never you worry--
Jehovah-Jireh above knows thy very need,
Who gives in season due to the sower seed.
Salt and light on earth be. Thy righteousness
The Pharisees' must exceed. All differences
Reconciled, lest thy balance draws offence
By heaven's audit. Loincloth of faithfulness
Wrap. At a lady be weary to leer, and thy
***** bridle. To God thy heart wholly tie.
The log in thine own eyes first remove
Afore thy brother's speck you see. Grudge
Not but ask, seek and knock. Don't judge.
Such measure from others expect to them give--
Golden rule. Strive to enter in at the narrow
Gate: the rough, rugged road to the end follow.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
I'm a free thinker
I make my own observations
That one friend of yours
Is not a free thinker
In fact I don't know if she thinks
Some of the smart people
They're the most closed minded
They read a lot and take in a lot, they become *** Laude+
But they believe things like the WBC
Believes what they believe
See, some of the dumber people
Like the Steve Wozniaks
Like the Bill Gates of this world
Those free thinkers that were really the smartest
But didn't like society's games
They are the real success stories.
But we're taught that the only success you can get
Is going to Harvard with a 4.0
In a field where the pay is good and jobs are hot
But a field in which where you went to college doesn't mean crap,
Because they're not looking for bookworms but looking for free thinkers
That friend of yours
She's been through pain
So she knows the pain
So she can relate
But that might be where it stops
That friend of yours
She'll have your back and she cares
But she's a little bitter
I mean, pretty bitter sometimes
I think you know this already
She told her cousin once
She found that talking helps
When there's a misunderstanding
That she wished people would talk
And work it all out
But she doesn't do that at all
She shuts people off
She shuts people out
Just like when she got annoyed
When you got less into her
You see
People who hold grudges
Who shut people out
They live a world of suffering
They live the saying "Nice guys finish last"
But they make it that way
Those people are the reason that saying exists
They say that those who don't learn
From history are doomed to repeat it
Let me just say she's one of those people
You're turning into one too,
Losing the free thinker inside of you
When you think you're making her
For the first time
I wish you'd listen
And not let your emotions overwhelm you but use the logic in your brain
Because your emotions are clouding your thinking
They're clouding your thoughts
They're clouding what you think you know about me, I think
Because you're doing that thing your friend does where you stop listening
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
Cuando tango la zampoña
cuando tango el sacabuche,
jamás pienso en quien me escuche
ni en quien me allane la moña. 1
Y así la zampoña taño, 2
pizzico así la vihuela
cantando mi cantinela
como trovero de antaño...
Yo no pienso en quién me escuche.
Yo no pienso en quien me loe
ni en quien el talón me roe
cuando tango el sacabuche,
cuando soplo en el obóe,
cuando tango la zampoña.
Ni en buscar el sortilegio
-con glisado tal o arpegioque
embelece a daifa o doña,
cuando tango el sacabuche...
Cuando soplo en el obóe,
cuando soplo en la dulzaina,
no pienso en boina ni en vaina;
ni en Burdeos o en Borgoña
cuando tango la zampoña-
Cuando soplo en la dulzaina
y si percuto el adufe
no pienso en que vozne o bufe
ni el cretino ni el tontaina
ni el doctorado en Lovaina.
Cuando tango la zampoña,
si pizzico en la bandurria
no me importa ni la murria
que me enerva y emponzoña.
Cuando tango el sacabuche,
cuando raspo el bandolín
ni cuando froto el violín,
yo no pienso en quien me escuche.
Si resoplo en el fagote,
si taño la cornamusa,
cuando tango la zampoña,
cuando soplo en la ocarina
no pienso en daifa ni en doña
(si me alabe o me abomina,
si se enfada o se alborote...)
Si taño la cornamusa,
laude pido o doy excusa
jamás, ni a Apolo ni al zote
ni a la mismísima Musa
de alto copete o de moña,
ni a Luis de Góngora Argote,
si resoplo en el fagote,
cuando tango la zampoña.
1.9k
From the time I saw your face, I wanted to learn from you
So Baby teach the course I can really get into...
I wanna earn all the answers, every credit in chemistry
'Wanna be an over achiever, have you believing in me
I wanna have love lessons in your arms
I want my lips to learn from lips so warm
I want those learning curves to lead the way
To a Magna *** Laude someday
I wanna have love lessons in your arms
I like to analyze your smile down to the finest meaning
The homework is such fun it's almost like I'm dreaming
With you I'm in the fast lane and I pass the courses faster
Thanks for teaching me the ropes to help me get my Masters
CHORUS
Bridge:
'Wanna get my education while learning from the best
I wanna earn a PH D being the teacher's pet
CHORUS
Copyright Louis Brown
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 9:04 AM UTC
Money can buy you the best proof taken amid all this rest!
Next taken is to experience et!
Dream about it,
Think about it,
Living it,
That's the problem spotting et...
When love takes its chance,
Football when football teams a family with
Kids and a dog,
Utopia raises its curtains,
God breaths a certain light on a table we had been risen,
Money can buy you the best,
Missile box sui generis,
Of its own kind,
Summa *** laude!
In all of its trenches,
Moolah lie deep and it stench es,
But dreams you may find et....
Cry me on silver,
Lime, dime and a sapphire glass river,
Streams a strengthen nugget gold,
Work hard, watch as it sieves, watch as it pours and watch as it gives,
Some where plays and draws you out a revealing point!
It Scratches a sale to a victory,
I like to see it,
Short cut luck no more staring into the abyss buck,
Seeing that face and still believing it,
Hard change knuckle of hours,
A super match set in sky mystery,
Finish off your money to be thy very best O'Reily mystery!
Messi Mason living life in some spiritual occasion,
Still breathing on average abundance of work smiles an ironed shirt and no creases as he plays,
Just don't stop till you've had enough!
Enough, Enough and Enough...
O'Reily@18082014
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
Call it prolific
Monoliths
Monolithic
Amnesia
And pill popping
I like words
I like how they taste as they flow
From my mouth,
From my fingers,
Into your ears
Your eyes
I'm inside you.
I've never really understood that
****** conquest
(I changed pages on you)
Like, we should be proud, as men
That we've been inside someone
"I put my **** in that"
Congratulations, Charlie!
You came!
Honorary meetings
Magna *** Laude
(Did I change pages again?)
Vulgarity
Shame on you Catholic boy!
Shouldn't you be whining about *** scandal?
Talking about pro-life?
Hating the gays?
Misconceptions
Misnomers
Misconstrue my meanings
Misplace the common denominator
Math is always interesting.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
Am I plain stone?
To be thrown far from the eyesight
Am I skin of the tiger
To be stepped by soulless merchant
Am I blood soaked by relative fellow?
Am I a lost tribe’s leader?
To be adored as saint
Am I lost prophet?
To be searched in caves where the Jinni settled his colony
Am I a Jurassic fossil?
To be displayed in a crystal cube
Am I a jasmine essence?
To be smelled after third millennium
Am I lost planet
The curse of mankind
Am I paradigm of goodness?
To be diminished by surrenderance
Am I perfect mischief?
To be hailed as a Gospel chant
Am I wing of purple angel
To bring you shade
While you search for knowledge
Am I supersensible tune?
To be played by enlightened heartstring
Am I aerial spirit?
To bring you storm
In a midday when the sun
Reads its quatrain
Am I a cosmic fluid?
To be dispersed as a star dust
Am I divine enough?
To rejoice for a cosmic harmony
Am I the bell from the angel’s wings?
To bell the beginning of a new prophecy
Am I a saint that shows hardly his miracle?
To be later adored as Godling
Am I pure water from the desert’s spring?
To be drunk on the moment of death
Am I death of Art?
To be reborn by Theurgy
Am I a drunken lover in Love?
To be perished in the quantum of photon
Am I stupid to reveal a new discovery?
So you may pity or
You may salute and laude
And so, and so, and so on.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 7:44 AM UTC
Same souls are an
_ island______
Eternal lamour
Perfect glamor
Flying
Transparency
Quiet breeze
Fragrance
Deep
Vichy dress
Glitter shoes
Cat eye sunglasses
Pearls ears
Coast Chekbones
Hills on her lips
Holographic lady
views
*** laude
Seductive Highness
Navy blue
Hair waves
Elegant hands
Embroidery sigh
Mozzarella lover
Prince vibrations
Coast lips
Views
*** laude
Coastal environment
Sun loungers in the sand
Outside peopleland
small views
Fortuna collapses
*** laude views
The refuge of the mermaids
Corners illuminated
Turquoise blue water
Gauze Water
We are _______ Caprisland ______
- Codelandandmore // 17:00 PM ©
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
Happy 21st birthday
I remember the date of yours every time
And I know it’s not today
Makes it kind of funny
Since you never remember mine
And it’s not today either, don’t worry
I dream about you every so often,
My beautiful birthday queen,
The beauty standard who I hold myself to,
Skinny but imperfect
In my dreams, I feel your hands on my neck
Sometimes a wedding veil or silken glove,
Strangulate me too
Choking me, you’re choking me, I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe around you living either
You throttle me with…. with… with…
Anyways, I hope nothing but the best for you,
You, insufferable ***** you,
I have never felt lonelier than when I stood beside you,
My high school bestie whom I love to bits and pieces,
But happy birthday
You deserve nothing but the best
From me and from everyone else
On this day you have to share with your sister
And a bazillion other people, too
You deserve Vanilla cakes
(Because I know you don’t like chocolate)
And silver rings and beautiful diamond things
(Silver because I know it looks better on you)
A kiss from your smoking hot boyfriend
(The one I’ll no doubt have a crush on *** laude)
And, of course, sincere congratulations from me
Your high school best friend
The girl you left behind
So that you could mack on boys
And had someone to pick up your slack
But in your absence, behind your back,
I became someone new
New and still a little – a lot – naïve
But someone wise enough to know better
Than to tell you **** you
On a glittery, twenty-first birthday card
P.S. I hope you like the flowers
And that your real card finds you well
And the fifty dollar note I left for you
In the envelope, an embrace, I never want to give you
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 4:06 PM UTC
No one came that day, nor
Any other day, to his birthday party,
Nor to say “Hello”, “Good-bye”, or “How are you?”
Nor for any other event, now that he
Thought about it,
No one came.
The day he had 104, sweating like a pig and
(Do pigs really sweat?) was delirious and weak,
No one came.
The day he broke his leg.
The sharp, jagged bone, incising
The skin, blood everywhere, held tightly
By two belts and
No one came.
The day he received his diploma,
Summa *** Laude! How much better?
Work and school, no time to play, now
To rest a bit and celebrate, but without
Anyone to share the joyous moment,
No one came.
The day his heart felt feint,
Must be how a volcano feels when
It is about to erupt, he had thought
Just before a crushing hand squeezed
Brought quick, excruciating pain, and then
He was dead; laid cold and still and
No one came.
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 6:50 PM UTC
A Tongue to kiss a Special Person.
A Tongue to Hiss a bad performance.
A Tongue to lie, to those you love
A Tongue to Shout to the sky above.
A Tongue to twist Promised words
A Tongue to console those who deserve.
A Tongue to quote a campaign speech
A Tongue for Temper tantrums screech.
A Tongue to lick a juicy peach
A Tongue to taste a vintage wine.
A Tongue to Laude a Life so Full
A Tongue to lick a fudgecycle
A Tongue to please something bare
A Tongue to lick a nice spot there .
A Tongue to pray to heaven above.
A Tongue to softly Speak of Love.....JMF 10/24/2014
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
Yo deseo estar solo. Non curo de compaña.
Quiero catar silencio. Non me peta mormurio
ninguno a la mi vera. Si la voz soterraña
de la canción adviene, que advenga con sordina:
si es la canción ruidosa, con mi mudez la injurio;
si trae mucha música, que en el Hades se taña
o en cualquiera región al ***** Hades vecina...
Ruido: ¡Callad! Pregón de aciago augurio!
Yo deseo estar solo. Non curo de compaña.
Quiero catar silencio, mi sóla golosina.
Como yo soy el Solitario,
como yo soy el Taciturno,
dejadme solo.
Como yo soy el Hosco, el Arbitrario,
como soy el Lucífugo, el Nocturno,
dejadme solo.
Mi sandalia (o mi abarca o mi coturno)
no los piséis, tumulto tumultuario,
dejadme solo.
Judeo, quechua, orangutánida, ario,
-como soy de la estirpe de Saturno-
dejadme solo.
Decanto en mi rincón mínimo canto,
silencioso; alquimista soy señero,
juglar oculto, absconto fabulante.
Dejadme solo.
Buen catador (soto mísero manto)
Buen tañedor (sin Amati o Guarniero)
Alto cantor (aunque bajo cantante)
Dejadme solo.
Dejadme solo. Non quiero compaña.
Dejadme esquivo. Non gusto coreo.
Non paventad: non presumo de Orfeo
desasnador de cerril alimaña.
Dejadme solo soplando mi caña
silvestre. Non pétame pueril ronroneo.
Non son adamado. Non son sigisbeo.
Son áspero, másculo. Son rudo, sin plaña.
Sin queja. Más mudo que Beethoven sordo.
Sin laude. Más zurdo que Cervantes manco.
Sin pathos. Más seco que no Falstaff gordo.
Solitario. Adusto. Voy único a bordo.
Espíritu en ***** Corazón en blanco.
Y esquivo dejadme. Soy notas-arranco
de mi clavecino. Soy fábulas-bordo
sobre el cañamazo de mi pentacordo.
Soy facecias-urdo. Por dentro me estanco.
Dejadme señero: jamás me desbordo.
Como yo soy el Solitario,
como yo soy el Taciturno,
como yo soy el Hosco, el Arbitrario,
como soy el Lucífugo, el Nocturno,
dejadme solo.
Como soy Leo Atrabiliario,
como soy Sergio el Estepario,
como soy Proclo Extravagario,
como ya tengo el Cuervo y el Vulturno
de los acerbos choznos de Saturno,
dejadme solo.
Dejadme solo. Non quiero compaña.
Dejadme esquivo. Non gusto coreo.
Non paventad. Non presumo de Orfeo
desasnador de cerril alimaña.
No viene a mí, ni voy a la montaña.
Ni vasallo ni César, Juez ni Reo:
Sergio Estepario, Estrafalario Leo.
Con mi tonel. De mi cruz cirineo.
Rey de Burlas, soberbio: cetro o caña
pares le son a mi elación huraña.
Dejadme solo.
1k
You majored in breaking hearts
at the university of shattering dreams
and **** you got far in there,
expert, PhD level, and I was just
another research paper in your
continuous studies for whatever
magazine it is you publish in.
I knew I was just a subject
ready to be learnt and thrashed
after a semester but i remained a hopeless slave.
to your thinking of
'credit approved credit forgotten'
you remained loyal to the end
and once this textbook was read
I was sold and you moved on
to the next big requirement.
and boy I should've listened
to those with experience,
all those people that'd been broken,
the ones that'd raised their voice
but I was deaf to their shouts,
now I'm nowhere, somehow still enslaved
by those phantom white chains you call hands
and I can't find the keys. I guess I'm hooked,
sick as that is, to your poison, that drug,
while some dealt *** you were giving out
false love and fake attention,
it made me feel like I'd found meaning
but it was all a bad trip, I'm an addict
to that unknown cause and I was happy
to go along with and I abused it
and I can't get off the roller coaster feel.
The rush is gone replaced with sudden fits
of emptiness, my dealer is gone: you're gone,
and I'm dissipating away too.
I traded everything to be apart of you
and you're graduating Magna *** Laude
while I'm some random drop out.
Well, congratulations and good luck,
the future is bright for students like you.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
Puff and Pomp of Circumstance
I maestrate my digits unseen
As an old lady hums loudly off-tune
begging to see their face
I tap my fingers to the drum
Watching myself walk the stage
Knowing I will receive no applause
How many people will watch--
Scoff as I go the distance
A piece of paper with a shiny crest,
Firewood, tinder, disinterest
A hilarious dream,
The biggest lie ever sold
But I still walk and talk and sit as I'm told
No great symposium,
No perfect forum
As every time I went to speak
I was silenced,
Pleaded to keep clean
The great farewell
dictation of objectivity
Of dis-indoctrination
I wanted to scream
No ma'am you are mistaken
The quaking words you claim are making
A better world, a better place?
Setting the stage for the end of day
And a rambunctious after-party
Full of mean mead and black wine
******* in the grass of the divine
"Let us remember..."
That they have never been
"...In the holy presence of God"
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
I want shut eye
And to shut off
Making it worth the wait
Laying in the double duvet
There will be nothing done today
- starting from the early AM
Of course when
In apathetic stance
Which sounds so concerned
I asked and answered,
So repulsed and sure
And then again in collaboration
So what?
If there is itch tangle or sore
Nothing lasting or making sense because of it, and then wishing off to shut
Asking and then answering again
So what.
Given your hands in the benevolent shadows gloom
I grasped the deep, and true colors bloom
In fire-lit hindsight
The ways that bodies exhausted temporal efforts
Through and over
Christmas warmth and holidays alike
Wishing for repetitive cuts
Lines thick and robust
Yet to bend above the high bar
Living in exorbitant envy and simultaneous lust
I wished for words to keep a man up
As Edgar Allen Poe to return
And Onto nightmares haunt
And in profuse soliloquy I discussed
Addressed and caressed the audience and applauded with further praise and *** laude the asked answer of so what.
Carefully to plot
With a protractor and fingers
Then put - in holes all around problems and solutions-
No hole without end instead whole in my hands cusped
I repeat my concern and eternal quest of lines so crossed -
In-absolute and aloof and lost
Returned the question of so what?
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
It is not drishti;
It is my ignorant staring
that draws me into you
Neither eyes, head
nor heart softens
straining to meet your gaze
Yearning, longing
unspoken earnest
an ensnared frenzy
The alien depths of
complicated blues
dismember me
The tales and odes
craft and song;
mimic sweet melodies
Basking in warmth
tracing footsteps;
following blindly
But this is fleeting faith
euphoric delusions
****** girlish fantasies
you leave me
again;
naked, empty
Repeated assessments in
blood-red marks;
*** laude in foolery
Yet I rise once more
reassemble the remnants
move forward
For that is all I know,
and I fear;
all I will ever know
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
came from a land of 6
races
to a land of many
more
with many doors
locked
by the color code
broke a few
down
with erudition
but the ultimate
combination
elusive remains
you gonna make it P,
said J of another
persuasion,
citing actions affirmative
as key
then rodney got beat
down
to a pulp
in LA
by the po po
*** *****
didn’t you know
you’s still a ***** to me
don’t be deceived by dem
degrees;
summa *** laude this
***** f#kka
and all lives matter
became the chatter
after 3959 swung from trees
down
south
laura nelson’s blood-shot eyes
dug-out,
sold as souvenirs
for a nickel;
pics of the scene
went for a dime;
**** *****
didn’t you know
you’s still a ***** to me
jim’s crows
stole 40 acres
then drove the mule
to detroit,
chicago
and brooklyn’s first houses
built by fiorello in ‘35
became the hive
for black b’s
honey, why are they fleeing
in droves
to jericho...
coz they think we sting baby.
~ P
#chasinhoney
(9/7/2017)
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 9:37 AM UTC
*** laude
but still survive by making lattes
oat, soy, or is 2% okay?
my tongue strains from over complicated names
i’d rather be where the trees meet the beach
i’d rather see where the ocean meets me
i’d rather be in the in between
i’d rather be surfing in tropic scenes
but i am clocked in
dialled in to deliver the best service
i am locked in
dialled in to automate, surrendering purpose
shocking the lack of stopping
the earth keeps earthing
May 17, 2025
May 17, 2025 at 7:42 AM UTC