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CK Baker Dec 2017
sages and brethren
gather, and share
and slowly souls
are bared
their tempered voices
and quiet eyes
reserved of judgment
with passing smiles

moments blend
in current trends
opinions wide
and reflections deep
the concepts
and irregularities
once murky
now clear

they prioritize
and familiarize
that staunch resolution
of generation net
will remunerate
and illuminate
through the checkpoints
and formal reviews
through the purple curtains
and open stage
nothing tainted
or bitter
left for taste

cause its they
who’ll plant the seeds
the captains of commerce
healers and jugglers
the coaches and councilors
negotiators and compromisers
the kings and queens
hustlers and hellcats
(who've all found their way!)
let us tip our hats
and salute them
Nathan Squiers Jan 2014
They say their souls are saved,
That they've been blessed 'cuz they give praise.
Oh!
Their dreams all seem so handsome,
But we're holding their God for ransom.

They will send negotiators,
Protesters and lippy haters.
Oh!
It will be so grand, son!
'Cuz we're holding their God for ransom.

We'll hold back their End of Days,
As long as they abhor the gays.
Yes, we'll deny eternal bliss,
If they can't ditch their prejudice.
To condemn then throw a tantrum?
THIS is why we hold God for ransom!
'Cuz it's about time the deity haters hide behind starts answering for their crimes.
ERR Aug 2013
The wood floors screeched and scraped
As she yanked her bed aside
In a crazed hunt, sweeping for
Scraps; anything would do
A pinch, a taste, a crumb
She plucked the dirt and dust from chemical gems
Pooling the fragments in mounds
Sweat poured down her wrinkled brow
The room steamy from summer and glowing screen
Full of jobs she would not get, and friends she could not call
And music that had lost its mystery
A world she could not follow
Drawn shades and stinking clothes

Stash spots scoured, links to lenders soured
Pocket and purse empty funded
She collected her meager treasure
And consumed
Mush minded marsh of good and guilt

It wasn’t
Enough, it was never enough
Unsteady and emaciated bag of lone bones
Dials never-call-Paul, desperate
Hey baby, trade you a
Hit for a hit
Modded whip picked her up with mechanical lion roar
Of engine souped
Drag king down to explore

He handed her a zip, and a piece
Do your thing
She choked it down water eyed
His hand, a scorpion on her thigh

What is this, she asked
Lights divided; kaleidosynchro swimmers and dancer faces
Sounds sludge oozing and brain train no conductor
She faded in and out
Half aware that he was
Taking his turn to the same rhythm
Car behind a dumpster

Paul gyrated brutally, from every angle
Raw skinned and full of disease
It’s ok, it’s just me
You wanted this, he panted
In the ear of a tangled pile of limbs
Whose name escaped him

Pants hiked and belt buckled, they moved
She was sore, and hit more
By the time they stopped again, cold napping

The racer rolled into his chop shop
And the swarm huddled
Mechanics, painters, draggers, part lifters, negotiators
Muscled, scarred, tattooed, and greedy eyed
He let the mob have their turn
And they plowed her on the hood
One, another, another, two
Stretched and wrecked and broken
Across the street, a neighbor puffed a camel
And watched

Who is she, anyways?
I don’t know, just
Some
*****

He carried her to her room, left her
Half alive but wide eyed
The rest is in your pocket, I gave you extra
Because I’m a nice guy

She crawled into the shower, where she leaked pink drops
And her tears were invisible
Sobbing, and rocking, and scrubbing
Exhaled her high from an empty bag
I can’t go on
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2014
Climb into bed and...

Hearth embers of body heat circulate,
Tourists on self-guided walking tours,
Exploring the cabalistic eighteen chai holies of the
Human body, temple depository of spark divine.

Heat sparkles cross over the isthmus of Touching Toes,
Continental negotiators, swapping free heat for icicles,
2 X 10 interstitial connections, now land masses filled,
Global warming credit trading par excellence

Fingers, jew wandering, exiled to freedom,
Intertwined within soft-edged, graying sea grasses,
Coverlet over pounding chest,
Hands illegally mining tousled head hair,  
Nestling, nesting, without proper permits

Lick away the rumbling hoarseness
Coating a neighboring sleepy throat,
Gate crasher bringing surround-sound comfort,
Seeking to seal and still the groans,
Escaping prisoners of the ills of the wearied mind

Your favorite parts inspiring, demanding
Song, word, drawing or simple quenching,
Tonic of revival, an affirmation of self,
Existence proofs met through need

I write this for me, for her, for you.
Suckers for iron pyrite, most will skip this polemic,
What you don't know about me could be a
Hit show on prime time cable TV.

Like a cute commercial that makes you smile,
For a product you'll never buy,
I write this for me, for her, for anonymous you,
I am the voyager, you the ******.

Middle of the night envisioner,
Re-writer of The Gift of the Magi,^
If I die today, I leave this as my last
Will and Testament,
Just another love poem
You'll never read.
You see I used to write them there flowery, verbal herbal pie poems, now I just write what I am thinking...

^ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/the-gift-of-the-sleeping-magi/
Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
In the presence of any hearing ear or seeing eye,
the oldest man in the room stood and said,

I suggest a motion be made that:
This proven means of reaching a realizable samesame state
of peace and freedom, 'mongst beings of all
breeds tested as sapient and unem us augmentedus,

be administered free at any seven one eighty Fibbo equipped
joy ride facility.

The Motion:
All peace negotiations,
all settling negotiations
on earth,
must now be preceded by
a ranked pairing of the parties,
{what if wit life partners, so we have a four wide}

Yeah, pairs of plus ones, two by two

most worthy of admiration and respect and trust
ranked order,

let the first rank step into the car. wait for the message.
YOUR BODY IS LOCKED IN< YOU CANNOT DIE ON THIS RIDE

each rank takes its place, reads and and agreed terms of unbelief release.
combine con questseers haulin
ah questions mistook
for quests... happens, but

that ranked the riders? the waring bros. us the unem
of four are in car one,
Aha, the roller coaster Poke'mon, as Grandpa

suggested, in the entrancment lesson, did you hear that story?g
This is no linked, but generally,

breadcrumb... weak link back... but later

this is the chunk chunk chunk cogged rotation
of gears in gears meshing

chunk, chunk, chunk to the peak the initial
wave on the Fibbonaci ***** with
one eighty per twist time s

seven,
we endure... ah it is not we riding, ha, I for got
virtual reality, by god, i'd say
pretty good, too.

and we, no, they are upside down, which was the intention,
the whole party of peace negotiators

realize
the terms of agreement
and the benefit of proper ranking
{discounting **** in a coriolis sorta swirl, that shall hap, watch}

Before the pen and ink and all our augmented eyes everseeing witness
war is stupid and too costly at this phase to waste any more unexamind lives on,

beacause we can. We agree, we. the people, peacemakers are

and peacekeepers be... we,

the controllers of every mob on earth, we bodies of words in minds.
War now is as useless as smallpox and polio in bubbles
of babies
where peacemaking is set to kick in after terrible twos,
epigenetically, but  set with the polio vaccine, prenatal-mods hapt in the moms with
the Mario plumbing level.

We are getting better results. At five they are inquisitive,
and comprehend portals need means of access
which must be learned while find ing
messages with
synchronus meaning.

Now, then, that means
something real but we don't know what, yet, grandpa, don't

--soto voce', {golf-whisper}
the key to this portal,
long still being a true let be-er,

but meaning is imagined in the games,
my seven grand children all were born after 3g.
these fresh augmented us, mentally, more than we could think or ask.
They find meaning faster than
we found it in **** and Jane, and The Little Red Hen

The future is bright. Not a big bang. Not even a pop. A sigh,
of satisfaction. Believe it or die, eventually, wishing you had examined
life more close-up, earlier.

Fret not. Later is as real as you can realize. Watch and see.
History is so much more enlightening now. Think how Ben Franklin would have seen our gloabl brain's access to accrued wisdom in old age.
I found you here in this moment
Fulfilling flames with your fingers
To combine sensory alchemy
Juxtapose the dichotomy
Until meaning meets fear
And we dream of collapsing targets
Sardonic architects compete
With compulsive negotiators
Former lovers and a single savior
We are all traders and traitors
Alibis neglected
We are eclectic
These violent voices
Are like violins waltzing
In forensic suspenders
Men without raincoats
Dream of removing their waders
And perhaps even
Opening some windows
Michael Ryan Jan 2015
When I take in air it doesn't feel so light.
It's full of the things you'd never want to go down your throat.
Its feels as if the air has changed to the hottest sauce I could ever imagine.
That with each inhale and exhale my mouth and throat burn.
They burn to such extremes that I feel like an out of shape boy after a run.
A boy that does not know that he is not built to run this way.
As I take in more air it only adds to the intensity.
Doing as what oxygen does and igniting flames.
My lungs have become these hostage negotiators.
The Hostage is myself.
As they decide whether I can breathe or simply gasp for the heat.
They tighten me up and begin to straggle me.
Just like the time I was smothered by my brother.
They just don't know when to stop.
Not realizing when it's no longer a game.
My eyes start to flutter as my whole body begins to shift.
This moment feels as if an eternity the same as watching sand glide with the wind.
A simple breeze where the wind seems most at peace.
An empty land where only the gust of wind exist.
I only feel the light droplets of rain right after the lightning bolt strikes.
It begins at my head and slowly trickles down the rest of me.
Moistening only the back of my head as I face the sky.
My lungs negotiated what they wanted so dearly.
I gave in to their final request.
The air has become as light as they say it is.
Taking one final deep breath.
My final thoughts on this day were those of the pleasant wind.
I just wanted to distract my mind and in a way this is what I wish, that when I go to bed right now it would be something like this.  The 2nd half is what I and so many wish for.
Bob B Jul 2019
I dreamed the day finally arrived
When ALL people realized
And understood why Donald Trump
Deserved to be so despised.

People everywhere saw through
His empty words, his lies, his act,
His bigoted, odious promises,
His thought process so inexact.

No one acknowledged his asinine tweets
Or listened to his divisive rants.
No one went to his vacuous rallies
And started shouting racist chants.

No one let him- or herself
Be duped by the man's endless stream
Of worthless gibberish and hateful talk
That once made non-supporters scream.

Our country had respect again
From countries worthy of respect.
Foreign relations were also mended
After having suffered neglect.

No longer did we admire
Autocrats and dictators.
We looked up to our allies and praised
Diplomatic negotiators.

The voices of white supremacy
Were drowned by voices of love and inclusion.
Voting rights would be protected.
That became a foregone conclusion.

Russia and other countries couldn't
Interfere with our elections.
All people living in
The U.S. had equal protections.

Religious freedom meant that people
Could practice beliefs across the nation
And NOT use religion as
A handy excuse for discrimination.

Clean air and clean water
Became a focus, AND what's more,
Climate change wasn't considered
A silly hoax that we should ignore.

Children were not separated
From parents at our border gate.
People weren't dehumanized
And made to feel second rate.

The taxation system was fair
And benefited not only the wealthy.
Everyone had health insurance
With emphasis on being healthy.

To presidential abuse of power
Legislators said farewell.
And egomaniacal Donald Trump
Languished in a prison cell.

What a dream--what a vision--
Where joyous hopes began anew!
If only it could come to fruition!
It would be a dream come true.

-by Bob B (7-19-19)
Jun Lit Oct 2017
one life
seventeen years
two parents
three bullets
many dreams, ambitions,

Four negotiators:

How much?
Great price drop!
Pick your choice –
Sell it?
or . . .

Buy One – Take All!
          character
                    honor
              ­                freedom . . .
A translation of my poem "Weekend Sale! Magkano ang Buhay ng Isang Tao?"
Ryan O'Leary Mar 2019
Today is the day
according to May
half in & half out
is how it will play.

Cut a maggot in two
the divide as we do
don't care if it lives
I haven't a clue.

Ireland is split
think we give a ****
I stood on the border
faced south so to spit.

I'm done with that lot
one and all is a sot
nothing but troubles
since the year dot.

I know we can win
if we try once again
starve into submission
with another famine.

The Ayes to the right
with a unified fight
for one and for all
no mind of their plight.


FURY AS TOP TORY WARNS: ‘WE CAN STARVE THE IRISH’ | AOH Home ...
brooklynirish.org/2018/12/10/fury-as-top-tory-warns-we...
British Tory MP suggested using the possibility of food shortages in Ireland to coerce negotiators into dropping their opposition to the remilitarisation of the border area after Brexit.
josef Mar 2
i’m your hostage
got me under lock-and-key
your smile is my handcuffs
and your irises my shackles

my ransom hasn’t been set
no negotiators met
blow your cigarette
smoke on my face

keep me in your room
under your bed
near to where your
jumpers and cds are kept
Steve Page Jan 2018
Make your unwanted advances
- on the ****** predators.
Place an uninvited unmistakable hand
on the casual grazers
the brokers
traders
*** negotiators
anyone who assumes
his entitlement
to sate his primal appetite
by right
anyone who
coaxes
cajoles
coerces
controls
in order to pick away
at a vulnerable soul.
Now's the time to shout
to call him out
and expose him
to unforgiving light
reversing the shame
in bare plain sight.
And there you'll find
you don't have to fight alone.
No, he'll be shown that
you were never on your own
and together
we can show society
that we stand defiantly
claiming the right
for all to live beautifully
free of each and every
pathetic
*** starved bully.
Come out now
and claim your life
and live it truely fully.
2017 brought us many things. A turn of the tide on *** predators was one of them.
Greek mythological
drama flourishes,
nee thrives within
noggin of yours truly
gods and goddesses
sporting Hellenic origins

purportedly cavort
higgledy-piggledy
rampantly running ragged
ruminative raconteur
resultant rueful end product
wreckage of present day me

chafing amidst yesteryear's adversities
shadow boxing doppelganger nemesis
fetus in fetu maintaining stranglehold
choking ability to breathe
unsuccessful roundup eradication
resultant mailer daemons

ruling the roost
time and again professional
therapy exorcised futility
psyche plagued with said
crudely sketched hobgoblins
permanently lodged within

fifty plus shades gray matter
mein kampf analogous to siege
and/or civil war
abductor and hostage
terrorist versus negotiators
one and the same person

ideal fecund environment
irresistible nasty brutes
unwilling to forsake
golden opportunity
passive languishing helpless
antisocial bumbling creature

mandate decreed heir extinguished
sentenced eventually commuted
life without parole lifetime
metaphorically imprisoned harsh
punishment solitary confinement
crime synonymous equalled

chance happenstance ovulation
nsync with seminal linkedin
fertilization, impregnation, parturition
essentially random appalling dice throw
courtesy biological roulette

automatic defacto malefactor
abstractly describes lifelong
condemnation, humiliation, ostracization
hence if nothing else
no shortage writing material.
Bob B Mar 2020
(This poem can be sung to the tune of "If I Only Had a Brain" from THE WIZARD OF OZ.)

We can wash our hands completely
And socialize discreetly.
We have the wherewithal.
We should spare no expenses
To keep up our defenses
If the virus pays a call.

We can scrub down every finger--
So nothing bad can linger--
With rubbing alcohol.
Though our hands start to chafe now,
We feel that we are safe now
If the virus pays a call.

We can keep a social distance
To strengthen our resistance.
The task is far from small.
I hope you do not slug me
Just 'cause I won't let you hug me
'N case the virus pays a call.

It's not a sci-fi plot;
The problem's very real.
The virus can survive on many surfaces.
So tell me how that makes you feel.

Yikes!

We ought to be investing
In lots and lots of testing,
But someone dropped the ball.
We need negotiators
To find more ventilators
If the virus pays a call.

I can't wait till this is past us.
We CAN'T let it outlast us;
Let's make the numbers fall.
Be cautious and be wary
And do all that's necessary
If the virus pays a call.

-by Bob B (3-29-20)
Dr Peter Lim Sep 2018
The truth
one should not dissect
it must be held on its own
or count it dead-

to compromise
is its heart to stab
how weak is human nature
such mindless solution it rushes to grab

as the parties parley
and to mutual advantage negotiate
what's on hand tempts the stoutest of hearts
let the deal be sealed and then celebrate-

who does care if truth should perish
right before the negotiators' gate?
profit and gain is the substance of the game
morality is an easy word to set aside and forget.

— The End —