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Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Dad said I'd be good at marketing
since I like making lists. Classifying
the woods and herbs, jazz tunes, poets' poems and poems for people
and I've also considered sorting humans into novelistic categories:
compassionate, responsible
logical, radical
scientific, silent
garrulous, querulous
masterful, mindful

leader, liar
persnickety, prejudiced
appealing, apoplectic
decisive, persistent
natural, enervating
effective, fastidious
passive, embarrassed
aimless, familiar

sociable, impregnable
amorous, demanding
delirious, disciplined
silly, assimilated
holy, hungry

Next there would be settings.
Deserts, moon colonies, submarines, George Herbert and his God.

Motives for acting
driven by personality, DNA (******* DNA!), sinning,
necessity and whatever happens in the afterlife. Spinning
with the planet but sitting still and thinking deeply.

                               --------------------------------------

School bus, snow plow
train whistle, cello
alarm clock, traffic report
Beijing, Cincinnati
former adversaries, adolescent lovers
any day could be your last day, Hombre
mango, avocado
superstition, cancer treatment
enhanced interrogation, blurry vision
jacket and tie, why am I waiting
quiet remembering, day by day goes by without poetry without grace
seedless watermelon, rabbit in my garden
too much to do, not much to do
hip hop rhythms, how white people like to shake hands
who can't do anything about his skin color, Nelson Mandela
pluck the gold key, touch me personally
breakfast salad, stay in school
Afghanistan, strangulation
banana, Guatemala
mountains and rivers forever, never will I allow myself to live long
      enough to end like that
that's for sure, sure in your computer
the brain contains the universe, the universe has a brain
stream cutting gorge, last snow patch
photosynthesis, missing dad (or mom) in poem
whatever you want, the freedom of summer gone and only one ****
paper sleeping bag, ear souvenir
peace, twice
lemonade, amulet
how to make history interesting for Johnnie, washing your pajamas
chain saw, no strip joints or strip malls in the Gaza Strip
frantic century, ****** tissue
Jerusalem, reducing fractions
polytechnic institute, grandma's sauce
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Kyle Esplin May 2018
Title #1: Dear Hi-Chews (Morinaga & Co.),

Laughy-Taffy’s Fun
Always incorporate a pun
Yours need a haiku


Title #2: Hi-Chew 2.0

Our sells would just sore
But the brandings a bore, solved:
Include a haiku


Title #3: Mango Flavor

Hi-chews are yummy
But the mango is nasty
Discontinue Please


Title #4: Sales

Hi-chew sells are down
When Laughy-taffy’s around
Add a fun Haiku
Purcy Flaherty Jan 2018
From Alan Lomax to the commercial art and the money machine.

At the turn of the century when sound recording 1st became available to the masses, recording a song was an opportunity for common folk to reach out and tell the world something up front and personal, it meant that people were able to put themselves on “The record” A way of leaving a permanent audio statement an epitaph a form of audio immortality ~ life mood emotion captured and bottled for all eternity.
(this applies to earlier storytellers architects and artists too)

A recording was a great addition to "The family album" something more tangible; a window to a real person, with a real life, a message and a real point of view”; a legacy, a blast from the past.
Few people expected art to be re-designed, homogenised, formulated, copied, repackaged covered and played over and over again by artists in the form of "cover music" or become secularized, ****** and constrained by an elite clique or a commercial genre.
Labelling and streamlining art & music mostly benefits the commercial art & music industry.
This multi-billion pound industry has made commercial success through the process of mass homogenisation, product synthesis, marketing, streamlining and then packaging fashion, sound & synthetic culture to sell a product!
So what was originally intended as self expression, a historical record, an archive, a personal message, is now sold as a product containing noise, a vehicle for advertising, perpetuating a genre of nonsense, labelling and re-marketing, so much so that there is now more nonsense immortalised "more white noise" than anything else.
To re-cap ~ I Think that art & songs are a form of expressionism, and like story telling they convey moods and messages from the present and past!
If artists and musicians create more than they copy then they are saying more whilst not devaluing the work of their predecessors!
From Alan Lomax to the commercial music machine.
A culture of cover singers, blinkered snobbery and the hermetic music industry !
S Bharat Apr 15
The Condition

I liked when I partly heard
They had the vacancy
Reserved especially for a girl.

They didn't want very educated
But the beautiful one.
And my head was in a whirl.

S. Bharat
Christian Ek May 2015
Hell no, you don't want to be compared to one of those models idolized in magazines.
True beauty lies outside the fashion industry’s visual constructions.
Fall in love with what you never expected to love, imperfection.
Brand-less self expression.
There are no cameras or flashing lights there
or visual effects.
We come in different range of sizes.
Shame on shallow marketing.
A pretty face can have nasty vices.
Hearts of Gold, now those aren't sold.
- C.Ek
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Have some fun.
Presentation of self.
Afterlife functional illusion.

If your memories don't heart attack or cancer out
or from traffic accident
who will effortlessly flush them out?

You must give yourself to man
be more selfless.
Do one thing well. Flute.

History final. F is for fiction.
Nature's philosophical partner
afraid, affectionate, forceful, confused!

Within a tradition, fine to know what you're doing.
Polka dots and moonbeams. I'm old fashioned.
Noh, opera, film.

File with business cards.
What's the offer?
Free marketing. Unusual reflections.

Why fight fires, floods?
Hurricanes and other acts of the Father. As for man's
fate, what has this to do with the temperamental, fragile self.

Power failure
just as we were fixing dinner.
The white egret ate fish after fish, one then another then another,
      forever . . . .
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Antino Art Aug 18
I am the only Asian in this bar right now.
Be my friend!
I will check the box of your social diversity quota.
Granted, I only speak a mispronounced fraction of
my immigrant parents' native tongue.
Ala Jackie Chan, I do not understand the words coming out the mouths of anyone on that massive continent (Russia included) that I appear to be more or less from.
But, I do eat spaghetti with chopsticks.
I am mystical as
fox, or Kitsune, in Japanese folklore.
I can hit you with wisdom worthy of a fortune cookie as fast as Google can tell you that the Philippines is nearly 2000 miles away from China. I want to say I'm from an exotic island where they play basketball in sandals and drink soda from plastic bags- like, A-level material you could make a movie out of in Slumdog Millionaire fashion and get awarded for your romantic portrayal of poverty you think is three worlds away from home. But nah, I'm just a kid from South Florida. Paved driveways and cul de sacs. But I do pump both fists in the air watching Manny Pacquio PPV fights on a bootleg stream. Beyond that, I'm probably the worst Asian there is. Not the crazy rich kind with a PHd. I dropped out of engineering after one semester and cannot solve a rubix cube. I never learned kung fu. Though I'm learning to face the adversity of becoming a single parent after my daughter's home broke in two. I write marketing proposals to pay the rent and poetry to fight without fighting in the spirit of Sun Tzu. My eyes do not slant in the direction of your narrative. I once ran in a pick up game where I caught the nickname of Yao Ming. Yao, I am 5 foot 8. Though I fall short of expectation, I can still check your diversity box on the way down and do a cool pen spin after to punctuate my intellectual prowess. I also happen to own an assortment of Japanese swords made in China, which I intend to use as heirlooms. This is what cultural colonization looks like: me, in a bar, the last samurai standing confused in an age of melting pots, Korean tacos and Asian slaw made by corporate imposters with names like PF Chang. What in the slaw is Asian? I wish I knew!  I wish I knew the true value of my heritage to be worthy of carrying it forward. Like how my grandfather planted a Malonggay tree in our backyard whose leaves my mother would pick and boil to make tinolang manok -the Filipino version of chicken soup- as a weeknight staple on our dinner table. I can barely soft boil an egg for instant ramen. Or how my motherland's socioeconomic gap tooth smile is so wide that it drove over 10 million of its native sons and daughters off its shores to find work overseas as servants on cruise ships and hospitals to feed the families they barely get to see. To follow their trail blazing footsteps, let me be the second generation tipping point where some form of cyclical tradition breaks. That way, I can raise my daughter free of predetermined scripts. So as the worst Asian in this or any bar, cheers:
to being the first of a new kind.
Sean Hunt Oct 2018
Here on planet earth
we’re all
‘B’ Movie Makers
marketing inanity
flirting with insanity
breaking down reality
seeking peas we cannot see
When we search beneath the cup
we find that
only empty space and air
fill it up
Naomi Feb 13
Dear Valentine's Day,

I hate you.

You hallmark-created
Socially-constructed
Marketing-schemed
Holiday.

You say "flowers will make any girl smile"
I say "flowers die just as quickly as falling out of love does"

You say "a big teddy bear will help her sleep at night"
I say "his side of the bed is cold now"

You say "everyone loves indulging in chocolate"
I say "he fed me lies that tasted oh-so sweet"

You say "write her a heartfelt love poem"
I say "reading back on those words only makes me weep"

Who are you to say what love should be?
JoJo Nguyen Feb 4
This might be the Real
Transmission Mechanism

The niggerly water
lubricating a Trickle
Down

Greens in Rich hand
gets miserly saved

Yet earned on Poor back
miraculously makes it Rain

Washingtons fall
a few Jacksons scorch
land in lap

Even a Benjamin
swallows Trick Dollar
to **** a positive cash
flow

Bills stick on teats
just enough to buy

a comfort Doritos
bag a Brand name

snack for her little boy
So he'll grow up knowing

What value-added Marketing
taste like.
I had a conversation a while ago
With a woman on the streets of Mexico.
She sold beads from her belt
And had flowers braided in her hair.
Her hair shined a million different shades of black and grey,
Each strand framing her beautiful, wise face.
Her skin glowed gold, shimmering prettier than any star.
As I approached, she said to me
"Hola, niño. Have you come to see the lights?"
I questioned her, as the boiling sun was the only light in the sky.
"Sí, the sun shines, but can you see the lights? They are brighter than the sun" Her broken English cracked through her smiling red lips.
I, naturally, was skeptical.
Her cheeriness and bounce was off-putting when combined with her talk.
"One day, these beads will lead you to the lights."
I bought some beads so that I could leave.
I felt the heat of her grin on the back of my neck as I walked away.
°°°
Years later, I walked those same streets of Mexico.
I saw a remarkably beautiful young woman
With an old, worn, brown belt
Selling colourful beads.
I asked her why a woman and gorgeous as her was on the streets marketing necklaces and strings.
"Have you come to see the lights?" She grinned a smile as hot as the sun.
I told her that I was not.
She laughed at me and she said,
"Oh, yes, you are."
She grinned at me and danced around me, enchanting me.
°°°
I am older now.
I am in love with the black haired woman.
She is my world.
With her, I created a child
So precious and so beautiful that I cry when I see her.
When I look at her,
I see irises bluer than the beads
And I see a light in her eyes that no star can ever rival.
I remember that one day
That I walked down the streets of Mexico, looking for nothing.
There, I found a light
That warms this home
And melts my heart.
what is the future talking about? i can’t understand.
it’s like reading lips in a blindfold made of all
the wishes a genie would laugh at.
it’s like singing into a deaf noise
that only hears you when you
eat your feelings without Siracha
and call upon a thousand urges
to Undie.

what is the future talking about? I can’t tell.
I’m too busy marketing my ****** self to my **** Self.
I sleep with my eyes closed
but I open my petunias
with days upon days
of Allure.
J Jun 9
Granted my wish
I’ll still know there should be more
That what we have’s not enough
That though delivering some stuff
The marketing don’t match what we bore.

Slay the messenger?
I hope not.
Do you want the truth or do you not?
Fairy tales don’t make sales.
We can learn from these fails.

But is it only on me?
Do you see what I see?
Numbers don’t disagree
Feedback’s this weeks’s homily.

Listen.

Unless you want all this be spent in jest
To fix it now we must invest..
This is not just for me that this be best
I’m just the latest to be stressed.

I’m terrified to take the blame
For such an awful yet true claim
Please understand my only aim
Is to protect YOUR - not mine -name.

Such a shame.

Transparency should not be scary.
Emm Aug 2018
finding fake joy in little lies
finding fake self worth in some shoes
new branded item
no one looks up on you for them
just wait 'til the mud tear them down
tell me who what do you see when you look into the mirror
is it someone you like?
is it someone you wanted to be?
the kid in you says hi to me
asking you to grow up so that he can too
to face the real world
like a real man should
armed with ammunition
that is real self-confidence
stemming firmly on the ground of wisdom
not fake accessories and marketing gimmicks
clink another glass
because that's how you face your problems
pout another story
for your non-existent friends to tell
inflated self image inflated ego
who you gonna fool with your little bell
JJ Hutton Oct 2018
There'll be a crowd encircling you, I'm sure.
They'll nod at your every word, imperfectly mimicking
what people look like when they actually listen.
I'm sure the crowd will be people we know.
Old high school friends with real estate ventures
and gyms and multi-level marketing schemes.
Most of them will be doughier, their cheeks permanently
stained red from a decade of drinking.
Most of them will have photos of their kids on their phones,
and they'll tell you they're "sure you don't want to see them"
as they pull out their phones and show you photos of their kids.

I imagine I'll approach, stop just short of the circle, pretend to bid on an Alaskan cruise.

As you talk about redoing your floor in a faux tile that looks just like the real thing for like half the price, you'll see me.

I hope you'll think of that kiss five years ago, outside of a bar in Norman, when the world entire bent for us, when all traffic silenced for us, when all people vanished for us.

Maybe you'll think of the time we ****** in a twin-sized bed, beside a wall decorated with newspaper clippings, which I thought made me look worldly and learned. I admit now the look was less academic, more serial killer.

And maybe you'll think of the manchild fit I threw when I found out you had moved on after I moved away.

And maybe you'll be totally present. Good to see you, you'll say. You will ask about my family. We will discuss the cooler weather. We will talk about your business, your kids. We will side hug and say goodbye. We will take the same route to the same exit. There will be children coloring the sidewalk with chalk. We'll each borrow a piece. I'll outline you; you'll outline me.
Ryan O'Leary Jul 30
She spends her life creating,
up before the rooster, baking,
organising, marketing, being
the surrogate mother, on the
board of many a breakfast table.
Remember this always:
Love,
Arlene

What You Think & What You Do Is You

To know, to really know by intuition what is true,
Rather than by intellect’s analysis,
Which going so far by the book
Will never brook reality, big R:
The star.

There in us seed of divinity,
But also personality and ignorance and folly
Which clog the way so constantly
As to obstruct each single day.

In theologic terms: Christian, Hindu, Taoist, Sufi
Shake hands on one thing categorically:
A unitive, intuitive discovery
Which sculpts life’s aim;
Truth, big T, its contemplation as an end,
Activity its means.

Belief in humans doesn’t work.
You only have to look.
We fight, we ****, we’re angry as we lurk in corners
Passing laws to dig for more
Deep oil, coal… searching from a parched ambition,
Marketing on boundless scales the superficial and addictive
While vindictive leaders staunchly march,
Their Janus faces smiling, starched.

Philosophic, scientific principles at odds -
Where, what, if there is a god.
To know, to really know the double-sides
Of all observed would serve the good.

If you (or Man) will spend the time,
Insides reaching for the prime,
The look inside its total aim,
Some good must come of it;
Not total good, but it’s a start.
The brain connected then to heart,
The body horse, synapses cart.

Abnegation (not negation) of the ego,
Trying out the test of virtue
Probably, no, certainly will help
Speed up this royal trip.
You bet there will be blips galore,
So try some more to reach the core
Of Truth within, for
What you think and what you do is you.

What You Think & What You Do Is You 12.7.2019
Circling Round Reality; Circling Around Everything II; Arlene Nover Corwin
A dream-- B-dream-C- dream
                D-- Divine- dream
                E-- dream to the end of
                        E- Earth
                 F-- Fit for the dream
                How far it seems
                My first ever dream 
                  
                 A+ "Angels Dream"
                 B-Blood stereo types

      Dreams are so C Computer advanced  
                     One D-Demon -click
             Please come back your way too slick
                      Your running out the door
                Lets be careful what we dream for                    
                        All cliches
                   So Hype flying the parachutes                   

                   Does dreams come in
                   "Navy I Salute"
                    So **** designed cute                  

                   Sunshine awakening did you
                   feel her vibes wait a minute
                  Jump the dream her malamute
                   "To_ live_ a_ dream_ for all
                    the talking no money grabbing
                    Listen to the world what they are
                     ......  asking".......

                    M-L-M marketing tribe
                    Walking like the Egyptian
                   "King Tut Pyramid"
                   Million Stars multitasking
                  
                      My solo flight*
                       A dream is not a dream
                       Until your first cup of coffee                   
                                       ­
                     Names became unknown
                      I must be missing an angel                    
                       Quizzically Q- Queen
                       All the King horses
                    Money is real the dream
                      Like a paper moon

                       Once Upon A Dream
                   Eye mask beautiful to me
                   S-sleeping beauty
                   My Mom is so real
                    her name is Judy
                   I'll be dammed "Miss Scarlet"Red
                    Many broken pipe dreams                  

                   Gone with the wind                   
                    Beyond my words
                    A change is good
                    In my dream "God" was changed
                    My heart brave what defeats
                     The singer dream gently down the stream
                    Our dreams the milky way heats

                       Such emotions pride and joy of passions
                     Heartfelt affections life is filled
                      with destruction
                      Sometimes nightmares the do or dares                    

                      What fears only the lonely  
                       How a new birth is so lovely

                      With love to the  poem to the dream
                       heights the "Medieval Knights"                      
                      Was this my dream it feels so real? ZZZ
A dream are we all dreaming or are things plain as can be. Life is a struggle getting up the same routine feeling frisky drinking fresh brewed coffee too much sugar well that's sweet enough is a dream sweet or scary our flight will see to never give up Dream
I met a girl in the city once who
Was the emerald of Seattle
She loved the arts
And the passion of the
Common man -
It was inspiring
She
Told me
The countryside is all wrong
And I believed her

We'd walk
The sidewalks between
Coffee shops and bakeries
Between
Vacancy and marketing
The line
Between
Businessmen and the homeless
All these people
Like mantises feeding on
Each other's heads and hands
All this opportunity

Then she was swept away
At the light of the
Next city crowd we passed
So I went home again

I met another
Afterwards
From my city who
Told me
That art is all wrong
And that dried all the
Blood
From my heart
But I believed her

So I followed her along
To find out what
Art meant
And it was
Sleeping in
With
Gluttonous love
That was never
Satisfied by just one man
But I think
She
Was scared of
Committing to
The opportunity
Dennis Willis Oct 2018
Or when the door opens
are they just like

Whoa!
This is awesome!

Every
Single
Time

Not like they have to do
long range plannin'

Rotate the crops
Or put up for Winter

They have us
for that

'sif they smelled the danger
in big brains

Growled
Backed away

This
I think
they thought

Is it
the pinnacle

Let those big gangly
doofuses

Grow 'em
They're suckers

for a nuzzle
an' let'm touch u

Wah-woofin'-lah
free food

Don't think they ever imagined
At the beginning

They'd have us farming, canning
and Manufacturing

Gazillions
o' fuzzy wuzzys

to chew
on

Have us training to Ph.D.
In case they get an owie

prolly didn't anticipate
satellite collars though

Cats dominate the internet
Dogs the medical Market

My poetry
could use their marketing prowess

They even have us raising money
to take better care of more of them

You've seen
those sad commercials

As I prepare their dinner before my own
I realize

They've us
instead of reason

**** reason

Bark
******
Bark


[email protected] Dennis Willis
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