"nationally" poems
Trophies for last place,
And a Holiday for every weekend.
A taste of this and that...
OF Italy and Ireland and Asia and Germany
and every township in the county,
and 3 collective Miles of
Portable Toilets,
Strategically Positioned
throughout each event.
cause there is going to be a Lot of ****
Hooray for whatever we are celebrating this weekend.
Whichever one of the 30 different Woodstocks
Or week long Music Festivals
That exist only so
the Hippest of Hipsters
can congratulate each other
on how Indie they are.
Ya know, it's happy hour somewhere...
Why not party
All Day, Everyday?
Devalue the weekend
Like we have thanksgiving
And New Years.
A Five Kay For the Common Cold,
And We'll even give trophies for last place.
Cause we're all winners here.
and we're all hungry.
And What represents your heritage better than
Pizza or sauerkraut or General Tso's
And endless flowing barrels of refreshing, Ice cold, Domestically brewed and Nationally brand recognized Alcoholic Beverages?
IT's The Great Dumb Down, Charlie Brown!!!
A symptom of the Universe
If there ever was one.
Mass anesthesia to keep us all content
With our collective mediocrities,
our Forfeit Potential,
Our Day Job that doesn't pay very well,
But kind has benefits.
So we stay on.
In fear of nothing better.
It makes feel important.
Like Wheel of Fortune makes us feel smart.
(Wow, you can spell?!)...
Dwindling returns in a world of Beige and Pastels
And the Muted Grays of limestone concrete.
We Accept less and we Get less and we accept less and we Get less
And On And on and on,
till we hit that lowest common cultural denominator,
where your race is what food you eat,
And we all qualify for the special Olympics.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
On the brink of war, within our own borders,
Among our neighbors and brothers.
Interesting how we think of them as brothers, neighbors,
And how we are willing to go to war.
A compromise to end it? Willing.
Naive.
California may have become a free state,
Migrations to the gold mines and the economic
Boom improved the economy and diversity.
But war still came.
New Mexico and Utah were able to decide for themselves,
People rushed to sway the decision, it was even.
Fair.
But still, war came.
Texas got their money, and we drew new borders with more land.
A line was drawn, metaphorically and nationally.
But still, war came.
The south got back their fugitive slaves from the north,
The work force resumed, and a reward for the slave was paid to the holders.
Everyone seemed to win,
But still, war came.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
I'm perfectly imperfect
That's what they always say
I'm crookedly straight
But I'm far from gay
I forever speak my mind
Always and all day
My heart is on my sleeve
But guarded all the same
I'm devilishly innocent
My mind is not so tame
I'm dishonestly truthful
But never take the blame
I'm completely backwards
We can never be the same
To me upwards is downwards
The sky's my only ground
Your life I can still ruin
It is with in my bounds
I'm depressingly happy
There is no middle ground
My version of earth is flat...
Why should it be round?
My earth is a work of art
With colours everywhere
Your world I broke and ripped apart
Just to prove I don't fit there
I tore it up in little bits
I left the pieces without a care
I'm completely backwards
I'm such a major scare
I'm nationally local
You can see me all the time
I can disappear into thin air
Leaving you without a rhyme
For I'm melodically harmonious
No brighter than the dullest shine
I'm incomprehensibly real
And yet so hard to find
Pure white to me is simple black
Race is gone and can't come back
I can prove all that I am
A thing to which you surely lack
I'm disrespectfully respectful
My words are always fact
I'm completely backwards
I'll drive you past insane
Then I'll never bring you back
I'm illegally legal
Like a drug that you can't sell
I'm contrastingly bendable
In this world of my own hell
I'm resistingly irresistible
My secrets you will never tell
I'm obscenely lovable
In this world in which I fell
I landed in this twisted place
A world of expectations
This world I created on my own
For I'm an undertone of exaggeration
Here I've found my only home
In a backwards world of my creation
And all in all I'm here to say
"I'm completely backwards
In every single way"
Sep 10, 2009
Sep 10, 2009 at 12:49 PM UTC
← _Miss America 1955_, →
the 28th Miss America pageant,
was held at the Boardwalk Hall
in Atlantic City, New Jersey
on September 11, 1954, marking
the first live nationally televised broadcast
| | of the competition;
Crowned the winner, Lee Meriwether
later came to fame as the Catwoman
← in the 1966 film version of Batman →
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
There are five stages to grieving
I've been through them all
At least twice, some three times
I'm 45 and single
Very single
Husband...cancer
Daughter...war
No dog, no cat
single
You know, I'm the only person I know
who lost a daughter in the war
Was I mad, really spitting mad
I can still see that poor fellow
The one who delivered the news to me
Not his fault, but....I think I tore enough
skin off of him to last a thousand lifetimes
There was denial, she's not gone I thought
She'll come through the door one day
She'll phone, but it hasn't rung yet
And if it does....Houdini can't be far behind
I miss her, truly miss her
I've come to terms with it
It wasn't easy, but I understand now
I've moved on, and she has too
This year, I had to relive it all over again
I do, anyway....every time I hear we lost someone else
someone else's child, their son, daughter, husband, wife
father, mother, someone who was loved
This year, the fifth anniversary year of all years
I've been asked to go to the ceremony down town
They want me to be the Silver Cross Mother
Not nationally mind you,
But here, in my town
The town my daughter grew up in
They want me to show my grief
In front of all of them
Again
Now, I'm mad again
Not at them for asking
But, at war,
It stole my daughter
It took away my chance at watching her grow
Grandkids, school plays
selfish reasons, I know,
But, I hate it
I'll do it, **** right I will
She deserves it
They all do, each and every one
And when I do,
Not only will I be there for her
I'll be there laying that silly fluffed up
plastic coated ivy and poppy wreath
for all 158 mothers who have lost children
In this war at least
And for the ones to come
Which I hope is few
And most important
I will show them another
New stage of grieving
PRIDE
Pride in myself
Pride in my daughter
and Pride in my Country
The sixth stage of grief
From the heart
I'm Arlene Watson
And I lost a daughter
And I'm mad
And I'm proud
and on November 11th
you'll see both
I miss you dear....
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
Covid 19
November 2019,
seeping in
Wuhan , China,
Locally,
Nationally,
Internationally,
Globally,
Around the Earth,
criss crossing.
Spreading fast, shaking us,
insidiuously,
waging a cruel war at us.
Our human cells
fighting on and on,
some tragically
others triumphantly
with the help of our medical heroes.
That Disease
Can’t Own Victory Definitely!
Together, we’ll triumph!
Nadia Brouk
Apr 20, 2021
Apr 20, 2021 at 11:24 AM UTC
The doctor, a specialist, with formidable reputation
nationally, had a secret: a rotten apple for heart;
this apple poisoned him for ever,
but, neither he noticed,
nor there was even a whisper about this!
He could have undergone a CT scan properly!
A nurse, just a junior member in his team,
by virtue of her innate qualities, a healer nonpareil,
took the pain away, from each patient,
with her kind touch, and soothing words.
She healed very well, their hearts, already taken over by fear,
and yet again wounded by the brash doctor's words.
Patients counted her as a savior, much more than a doctor,
the doctor was paid well and kept happy to avoid troubles!
*not medicine, state of the art machines,
or expertise unmatched; the mind to heal counts,
the gentleness of being, of doctor or whoever,
works wonders, you'd see this all around.*
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 7:04 AM UTC
One day God created the Heavens and Earth and Sonewen
From that impoverished Ghetto came great men and women
And from her shores came Zogos that are nationally notorious
Yet from in one blessed home came a child bound to be famous.
From His Throne he saw that his handed works was very good
So In every households He placed a family to populate the hood
And so from sunrise to sunset, their faces glowed with happiness
Yet it was from one blessed home came a poet bound for greatness.
One day the rumours of war began to echo on the playgrounds
It was December and arid heat had just dried up the muddy ponds
As far as the eyes could see, stranded frogs hopped and jumped
Signs the history of the Sonewen ghetto was about to be transformed.
Transformed it did because in her, the elements of war found a safe haven
Exacerbated by war, compounded by poverty still to God she said Amen
Trusting in Him to bless and bring prosperity according to his divine favors
So from this humble child comes a big thank you for answering his prayers .
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 6:08 PM UTC
Who is the Artist and who is the Man, What differences lay therein?
Who is it that struggles more or less, is it a monopoly one over the other?
It is in the minds of all men to seek serenity and peace, to stand and hope for this is common to all.
Yes, we all have this in common, but the Artist has the tools with which to utter man’s dissent. This dissent to the injustices and violence’s waged upon the world and upon ourselves.
However, if the Artist believes that he is inculpable of these same injustices; his beliefs are that of indolence. For the Artist is no different in terms of the flesh and bone we speak of; this cage is inherent to all.
Struggle is also inherent. Who is it that has not done so? In this day and age as in most ages past, we have witnessed the violent upheaval of country against country, neighbor against neighbor. Americans and the world have watched towers and airplanes fall from the sky. And while this is agreeably horrific, we enlist and unleash a nationally based reprisal against our fellow human beings.
Yes, justice must be served, but it must be served by calm and learned hands. Some nine years later we find ourselves wallowed deep in the decay of war. And to what end has it been justified. The soldier will say that it is to bestow honor upon his fallen comrades and that is why the fight must go on. The politician will say it is to ensure stability in the affected region. The businessman will say it is to regain stability in the markets.
But the Man, the Woman and child only ask when will this end? The laid off workers, the new lower class of America, the grieving Mothers and Fathers, the limbless young men and woman. What is it that they see? The world’s future lies wounded upon an uncaring street.
And yet, what is it that an artist can do that a man cannot? The artist is a part of the melee, part of this violent soup. He may sit outside the bowl separate from the rest, but he cannot deny his complicity with this.
We must come to terms with our humanity as artists. For the artist to deny this would surely be the greatest lie. It is the twenty first century and we are the Writer’s, the artists of this age. What is it that we are prepared to tell the future? What is it that will be said of us and our work?
Let us not lie to them, let us not squander our opportunity to convey our perceived truths in the most laudable of lights. However we must all confess that we are first and foremost,
Man, simple men and women who struggle, who live, and die, who at times celebrate injustices, who embrace blind thought and bias’s, who breathe and bleed just as they, just as we… We are heartbeat and pulse of these times. But let us not hold that above our brothers and sisters, Let our combined works embrace the common man. For if not for him, Art is meaningless.
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 4:33 PM UTC
an old trapper keeper filled with some of my writings,
including 6 chapters of my very first attempt at writing a novel and
i remember the urgency i felt at the time to complete it
- ASAP!
because one of the subplots
involved the protagonist working toward marijuana legalization and
back in '93 with all the wisdom of my 27 years,
i just knew
- JUST KNEW!
that at the very least,
marijuana would certainly be decriminalized nationally
in a matter of just a few short yrs
making that storyline
completely
obsolete
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 5:47 AM UTC
Boy, oh boy
Will boys be boys
And oh boy, that’s gross to say,
I at least get that,
I mean I try to but here’s to trying
Kind of like trying to speak for women
Or anyone that isn’t you,
you should just not do that…
There’s a difference in defense for the good of all
And then, there’s what we were talking about 50 ******* years ago
Oh, excuse me 30 ******* years ago,
Last ******* year…
2 ******* days ago…
OK RIGHT THE **** NOW…
But I really want to go back to 69
Oh, The Summer of love…
Or the summer of forcing a woman to go to court over the ability to receive an abortion only to be decided by a group of old men if she has any rights over her body to receive a safe medical procedure, all while the media doing no one any favors guiding a blind division nationally between people and God fearing busy bodies, calling her names and questioning her character as a responsible person, in a not very god-fearing tone, all while forcing Ms. McCorvey again, to get burned more for prolonging an unwanted pregnancy due to waiting on a decision that is determined in court by that aforementioned group of men, which is like the sportsman’s equivalent of just killing the clock to win a game but it isn’t a ******* game it’s a woman’s body, which clearly they didn’t care anything about just as long as they get that **** baby in the next 6 months or so, but as stated above it is indeed unwanted, so really who is going to take care of the ******* baby because we know how much people just love adopting ******* children?
Let’s ask 25 republicans!
But some people talk of 69 differently,
Some remember the Beatles.
Some recall Charles Manson.
Kind of like today
Some say we are putting god back in our government
And The rest of us in 1972 to 2019 are wondering who the **** invited god?
I never knew God and every white person’s, “one uncle” has the same opinion.
Amazing!
But Uncle Alabama shouldn’t speak for God.
Wait until he finds out she’s a woman.
That’d be a kick to the unregulated nuts we can just spew anywhere, like a natural ******* disaster.
That’s what the name of this ******* poem should be,
but it’s not.
Sincere, ********
That’s what I call this one,
That’s what I call the last 2 and half years too.
And this poem.
And telling women what to do with their bodies.
Some people would think differently.
But I don’t think some people think.
May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 4:44 PM UTC
hey, i’m not the one getting my morality faked by tourism, or faking being polish because i found the location of the maldives to be east of las vegas... but i guess the roulette does care for the choir you’ll echo when the echo is necessary, and the bagel will suddenl say through it’s fake bun-button: those holocaut jews were really in ownership of british passports... we are representative of their martyrdom... i guess one could claim a denial of poland some other way... denying poland the holocaust because the jews suddenly became mr. polanksi jr. could be accepted... but then i democratically veto a disrespect of the bagel... end of! well dough dough, aren’t we all wooed into sinking england by due course affiliating a secure future.
*no wonder in the ***** of death and you in paradise hinge on taking me back to take a g.c.s.e. lesson in history! evens oddly the odds. how about we revise geography? no? ah.. oh well... we can learn something new of a palestianian polity in your agenda in a year or two; oh don’t worry... no new mozart will convert you or give you trouble to say the least; please please... we can hibernate the russians into death in order to make the americans fully aware... we can do that... and roll one of those grand cigars for the 51st star we’ve all been waiting for, ha ha. oh **** you’re right... freedom of speech... securing the nazis retired in argentina was a falkland right that got england engaged.*
oh but you didn’t provide me with a safety
of being ethically proud, or being nationally proud...
instead you told me to be globally proud...
and what’s that? the laughter surrounding copernicus?!
no one laughed at the mongols...
but everyone could laugh and execute galilieo...
where does that leave me... in a society of *****
if it doesn’t... do i look like a **** oh but i do look like a ****
you laugh at ****** i guess i am a ******* **** after all:
totenkopf zu die ende;
but you pride it so much... it’s called teen mom tv...
even though it broadcasts on a channel that should have music on it!
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 9:29 PM UTC
WHEN I WAS IN COLLEGE I WAS THE
"STRUGGLING TYPE"
I WENT THROUGH DOUBT, FEAR, TROUBLE, AND TRIFE
ASKING questIONS LIKE,
"WHAT DO I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE?"
WELL I DON'T KNOW
BUT I DO KNOW THIS:
I WANT A WIFE
I WANT KIDS AND I WANT TO WATCH THEM GROW
I WANT TO BE SITTING IN THE FRONT ROW
OF MY LITTLE GIRL'S SHOW
SEE MY SON MAKE THE WINNING SHOT
YA KNOW?
I WANT TO BE RECOGNIZED
LOCALLY
NATIONALLY
GLOBALLY
I WANT TO KNOW THIS WILL HAPPEN
BUT RIGHT NOW ITS JUST
"HOPEFULLY"
SO HOW CAN CHANGE A HOPE INTO A DEFINITE?
HAVE MOMEMNTUM KEEP ME OUT OF DEFICIT
I'M TRYING TO FIND OUT
THAT'S THE quest I'M IN
I NEED THESE ANSWERS
SO I CAN STOP
questIONING
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
A locomotive literary musk rat attack
Sitting roadside with a pocket full of lint
Just another low down stint
In a life in full pursuit
Slow and tranquil were the twinkling rays
With white hitting and streaking quite nice and naked
There were friends of mine stomping around
Vanquishing the present with ribbon touches of sore red
Upstairs the memory breaks itself on a staring mirror
Soon the words that seemed to be heard
Will just be a faint far away cliched memory
I opened the door to many places
Saw many a thing and somethings there was nothing
With the glinting forks and the good heavy whiskey
Sit stools wooden proud bar workers old deadened porkers
Blondie with a barometer measuring her liters
Never mentioning the bill she holds still
Tune of a ton pours itself over the youth and the young
Who are washed for the moment but will soon meet
The cold hard touch of the rough and tumble concrete
Where will grass burn when the fun is done?
Where will the streets crack when the back of the match
Has been pinned down and bought off?
No these were the illusions of the rearview mirror
The beat of the heart only lasts so long
Yes, only lasts oh so long
Year in and year out time stands still forever for itself
We are mere passerbuyers seeing the sights until were off to somewhere new
America you mentioned something to me at the party last night
But couldn't quite out what you wanted me to see
Now to be stuck underneath the overpass for ever last
No promises were made personally
Only
Nationally
May 18, 2011
May 18, 2011 at 5:55 PM UTC
Novel experience,
from a story's POV, see,
we are all the actors acting out us,
we think, we are our narrative.
Then we think, this is not a new idea.
If I had the Oprah habit,
I might exude an Aha,
right,
then we think, this we who speaks
is it a he or a she?
Nationally or locally,
resident habitués, common sensed, conserved
for future use,
just in case the worst we all may imagine,
happens
as we all know it may,
if we agree
to prepare for the worst,
and see who gets there first.
Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 2:38 PM UTC
promises of commitment
intertwined with feelings of compassion
idiosyncratic moments indelibly imprinted
as love between two humans is expressed
and allowed to flourish –
one ruling by an appointed court
opening judge’s doors’ across the country
giving freedoms to homosexuals
which should have never been in question
another example of the lie
that is “separation of church and state” –
millions of Americans cry out in unison
that God’s will has been wronged
while holy matrimony
uses the same language “Do you take this person”
when children marry stuffed animals –
in a day when twenty Bachelorettes
can battle for the hand of a stranger
on nationally syndicated television
how can people stand up
and argue based on a value system –
ethics, moral standards, belief systems…
these concepts are individually defined
if I think it is o.k. to have a tattoo
of Tom Selleck ******* Omar Gadhafi
that is my business
and it can’t really hurt you…only offend –
if you feel offended
by the Supreme Court decision
to allow the LBGT community marriage equality
I would argue
you have too much time on your hands –
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Nationally we rejoice at the drop of the sun,
Sending explosives that dazzle the skies in parotic hues,
Silenced are the fears of the weary who cower in the corners of oppression and differential treatment,
Misjudged are the BIPOC who do not mirror the sentiments of the majority,
Forgotten are the fallen who lie in unmarked tombless foregrounds, Be cautious of the realities faced by the neighbors hidden in solitude, Be mindful of the friends who decide to stay indoors,
Be compassionate for our nation is hurting,
Though mass media may have muffled their cries,
Their lived experiences echo at an amplitude regarded by the awakened.
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 4:09 PM UTC
THE laws in our state seem to favor the bad-
IT'S true and of course it's sad-
I'VE always have been honest -but it does not pay-
IT seems honesty gets in the way-
IT seems for the bad justice will always prevail-
When we know this person should have went to jail-
The crimes increase daily in our nation-
MY GOD what a bad situation-
The gun laws are a joke-
Guns still fire bullets and smoke-
The crime rate climbs day by day-
And for those killed we duly pray-
Violence and crime fill our streets-
The cops nationally cover their beats-
Someday we all will die
IF killed by a gun who will ask why?
WE ignore the news at times-
For the news reports the crimes-
Hoping tomorrow is a better day-
Hoping all the guns all get put away-
Don't laugh for crime is real-
Feeling threatened is how I feel-
The streets should be safe every day-
This is what I'M trying to say-
THE END-
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
Why don't they
understand
We just need to medicate
From our hurt
And all this hate
Its just a plant
We always tell them
But they *****
Away to jail we go
Make the people pay
To keep us confined
Yet pharmaceutical companies
Make new pills on the regular
Creating more people to get addicted
They don't care though
I'm going to live my life
Everyone should
To make the plant legal nationally
And to live in peace
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 11:40 AM UTC
I tried so hard to be kind to you
To excuse the stupid things you do
But something are beyond recall
And deserve no sympathy at all.
Your heartfelt desire to be seen
As some kind of forgiving queen
That lets you give a free pass
To a horrid political horse’s ***
Puts you in a category of shame
And slurs get hooked to your name.
Your a ******* a dufus an a fool
And the little you learned in school
Hasn’t kept stupidity from your door.
You have no idea what your mind is for.
Thinking should not be an hobby
Like picking up stuff from Hobby Lobby
Then dropped when the next cotillion looms.
Brains should not be hidden in back rooms.
You must do research and not believe
The words of shysters or you will grieve
And not assume all is well like fools do
Or you will take us to ruin with you.
When people like you don’t resist
Crooks win. Freedom will cease to exist.
You think you are being kind to villains
And refuse to realize they will **** children
And the old and the non-Caucasians.
That includes Mexicans and Asians.
Yet you tell us stories that they are nice men
And ignore that bigotry has taken hold again.
You sicken me with the dread of seeing
Our future becoming hateful to human beings.
You learned how to emotionally kiss ***
Back in some lost time in your past
And it has turned you into the kind of soul
He let ****** and Mussolini assume roles
That murdered and stole nationally
And took their countries to hell, ultimately.
And that, polite person, is why I call you dufus.
Now you are doing the same thing to us.
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 10:28 PM UTC
only a fool
wants to
defy gravity
by leaping
from
the tallest
skyscraper building
in downtown manhattan
thus
refusing to wear
parachute
crash helmet
safety goggles
swiss watch
and
shoulder pads
to break the fall
and
the sudden impact
at ground zero
nevertheless
the
law of gravity
is still intact
and
the rate of fall
32 feet per second squared
unfortunately
the
emergency rescue team
had to remove
the
zealous fool
from
the tragic mishap
splash scene
televised nationally
Fox News and CNN
with
mop broom and scoop shovel
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 10:24 AM UTC
To live with a purpose takes more effort than they tell you.
Saying it come naturally might just nationally be the biggest lie.
When passions strikes you ride the wave, because it just comes and go's it never stays.
The way we make ourselves so vulernable.
Putting our own lives at stake to take place in a dust bunny we call history.
To stare and be amazed in aw we praise.
Those who rise with this struggle and come out with strength.
Riding that passion till it dropps you off straight.
Straight into the waves of life.
So you try to swim back to shore, and look back realizing theres nothing more.
They don't tell you when you start the descent you have to lose everything.
They just tell you to let go when you fall.
Hoping that we all,
Understand this life with half meant sentances disguised as fortunes.
Make it yours and live on your own.
But what does that mean.
You'll spend your whole life searching for something greater than yourself just to find out you are the greatness sewed in every seam.
And you live your life thinking it could be all a lie.
Its just one great big comply after comply.
So you lose sight. You might even forget how to breathe.
You might scratch at the surface just to remember the peak.
You might hope every night that the sunsets in remembrance.
So when you wake up at least something was consistent.
It's a daunting task.
Living for yourself.
But just remember,
You're the only one who'll take care of you when everyone's left.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 9:22 PM UTC