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Mateuš Conrad Jan 2020
finding gravity on a bicycle...

surely... given that most people
don't write a ******* hemmingway...
and there's no william buckley jr.
doing the interview...
and there's no norman mailer...

and that: no one really bothers
with kierkegaard and that:
kant "famously" didn't marry starry crap...
why didn't i have kids
and start a family?
uh... dunno... mother's best lie...
or the best lie a neighbour brings
with her... whenever you're
being a 2nd witness without
the 1st witness being there...

and she says an "also" with regards
to her son having the same luck
with women...
when the comparison comes:
a koala bear versus a gorilla...
bonsai tiger!
like a koala is a ******* bear
to begin with...
cuddly soft-pouch toy-ah-thing!

but there's that great feat!
finding gravity on a bicycle...
my mother helped me with that...
and that famous fail of
a rotondo... well... more or less
a cricket ground egg shaped, oval...
or a rugby ball...
the shoulder on the salto bike
hard... rammed into a car....

as a child you were supposedly well
loved...
and this is modern poo'etry i hear about?
here's to: john sounding like johny...
will sounding like *****...
richard sounding like: **** and not richy...
it's cute... matthew... matti: finnish...
leonard is: leo oh leo...
why art we all not named: Li Lo Po!

of course everyone managed to spot
the tetragrammaton vowel catchers that's
hey'zeus! no... not the bloke strapped
to the mannequin of tailoring...
oh no... not the crucifix pendulum
"for us all"... by blood... by cross...
who is to exfoliate on the crucifix...
better than some well scouted for materials
on a mannequin canvas for tailoring
a suit?
the guilt?! oh the guilt!
well... thank god this metaphysician would
never address the material realm of
enjoying a... dabble with... wool...
when donning a suit...
or leather shoes... or any presence of suede...
beside the crucifix mannequin: replica
and pittance!

- but finding gravity on a bicycle is one thing...
finding gravity when swimming is another...
it's called gravity...
but some heretical circles call it:
balance...
after all... it is both gravity...
and balance... given that while riding
a bike... or swimming...
you're pretty much sure, assured:
to not be falling...

you can find gravity with newtonian hindsight...
of sure...
that's there... it involves the magicians orbs...
copernican mathematics and...
target practice when it comes to
propaganda spew...
and Steward... the lesser... Stew...
cousin of the house of Stuart...
not Steward... Stuart...
which is (again)...
a McKiteit and MacCoddlewit...
some Glaswegian *****-donor clinic
"miss-up" mix-it: tend to...
lounging busy... which is of course...
besides the "look"...

5 bazookas cleared for a salvo!
hip hip! burger-pound!
hip hip! boom shizzle shoom!
hip hip! hooray!
oh now we'z getz uz best
partay birth doy wishy-washy
"protagonists"!

but given the current Persian affair...
i couldn't help to notice...
love actually... the narrative...
the u.s.a. and england...
the Z-spezial re-la-tion-ship...

so... who's spastic... and who's fantastic?!
spaz: B-bristolian-esque joking...
never aside...
who's the spaz and who's the frizzy-fuss?!

spe-zial mother russia talks down
to dog Kiev: yes, it's in (the) Ukraine...
spezial iz not what iz?

h'america... kept a yorkshire terrier...
media leetches of england
firmly in its grasp...
cuz onez we woz: once -
the militia contra the crown...
of north virginia...

coz b'rah: a 79-year-old man
who lit himself on fire protesting
against russia's language policies
in the capital of the volga region
of udmurtia has died;
name? alberto raisin...
which sounds terrible in its
non-native spanish...

but there's something worth of gravity
without debating
the heliocentric model...
finding one's balance on a bicycle...
a posteriori events...
but... the same balance can be
translated into a swimming session...

my god my father tried to teach me...
if i was supposed to learn
to swim in the sea...
with the fear: of not seeing the depth?
isn't that like a thesaurus
congestion of: acrophobia?
isn't there a word in the borrowed
lexicon of the ancient greeks...
concerning... fearing to swim in a body
of water... where you can't see the bottom?
i could learn to swim in a swimming
pool... thankfuly all because and due to...
moi...

i also found gravity in water...
i could... lie in water and become...
the antithesis of: the body consists
of 90% of water...
yes sherlock watson & sons... ltd...
but in water i'm mostly fat...
if i find the right balance...
i float...
which is why swimming is a bit
like riding a bicycle...
you find: the center...
or gravity...

again... in this special "relationship"
of bruv-love...
between h'america and whittle brit-pop interlude...
oasis on the continent...
my my... blur, even...
breakfast at tiffany's back in the dough-dough-us...
who is the ******* SPASTIC?
in this "SPEZIAL" relationship?
i guess the english must be the SPEZIALS...

a bit like watching:
go-go-gonzales trip up on a spelling mistake...
which is all i care for...
like a comedia...
a deviation from the informal, later,
subject of language implementation...
and all this peacocking prior...

where else does gravity allow itself...
a presence of the multi-vector?
up and down... left and right...
it's not as easily explained as:
on a ledge... with an apple...
drop it... newton with a header!
a 1-all equalizer in stoppage time
an F.A. cup re-match!

gravity on a bicycle...
it's hardly a drop affair...
gravity in water...
it's hardly merely swimming...
there's that aspect of finding... buoyancy...
there's not need for you to swim...
to exhert so much effort...
that you might as well drown 10 meters
in after swimming the 'undred...

no buoyancy: no chinese fortune cookies...
i still don't know which is more grand...
beside the acrobatics of... olympic level
acrobatics...

it's not bound to youth via lifting weights...
or supreme mao tse tung's winter olympics
of: hunger strikes in Vinter...
the gravity bound to a bicycle...
or the gravity bound to swimming...
after all... the latter is a bit "funny"...

"levitation" and buoyancy...
the dracula soundtrack:
only because of gary oldman and the composer
wojciech kilar... and the given, current...
b.b.c. spin-off and how...
yes... it's that terrible...
i don't even know where those five-stars
came from!
the archetype of feminine romance novels?
the syphilitic lover? the "vampire"?

yes, no? two guesses as good as: nein - keiner...
and, quiet honestly...
nothing could make this exercise in:
not engaging in any of all the available
comments sections on any website...
any worse... than it already is...

it comes as no surprise that: i write this poo'ems
not because i don't write poetry...
but because i will neither write
a poem by standards reserved for
pedagogy or demagogy...
or write identifiable puzzle-bog-trots of...
language reserved for politicization:
and not for... counter-marxist...
"psychiatric" post-...
hardly modern or... "today's journalism"...
eh... pushing it toward a Beckett-clause...
concerning language that is not expected...
oh but i certainly do know
a difference between formal language
and... this... the informal language...
the cognitive extension that does not
require a "free speech" protection bias...

none of this was spoken...
it was seen...
weaved into "thinking"...
that's the difference... isn't it?
from my end of the tenniscourt "promenade"
i've heard nothing but clickick...
off this dead-end replica piano
of a qwer
asdf
zxcvbnm

unless my shadow spoke... or there was some
telepathic connection
with the schizoid "group-think" of me
sourcing my sometime odd...
cognitive-murmors of "thought"...
"hallucinations"...
so be it...

this defence of a freedom of speech...
how does that even extend into writing?
i will never know...
and to be honest? i don't want to know...
writing is an extension of thinking...
which is also an inversion of speaking...
but it's never speaking...
where's the audio on this piece?!

how about... plucking your eyes out,
after fating yourself with the
original curiosity to begin with?
sounds better: than... what still persists as...
not being, said!

this was written, it wasn't said...
this is not a transcript...
this is not a transcript...
if this is censored...
then my... "schizophrenia" is not even
my original thesis of: bogus
mono-lingual parody of bilingualism...
no need to cite **** sapiens
jurisprudence advocates...
lawyers... the thesaurus bargain barons etc.
this is... what's those words they use?
invasion of the tabernacle?
do my "auditory hallucinations" stem from...
these words...
a private investement in internet access...
again: nothing is being said!
because this is a "public arena"...
a "forum"...
and the eyes on the other side of this text...
are c.c.t.v. eyes?!
not private eyes?

what's the point of freedom of speech?
when the freedom to think:
and subsequently write... is bombarded
by being who: see via reading braille...
and read... comments likes dislikes and all
those other ratios?

writing is an extension of a freedom
to think... most people who speak freely
don't speak via a precursor script...
that's not free speech: that's scripted speech!
and just because it happens be placed
in a public "forum"...
that's the argument that this writing
is a freedom of "speech"?!
really?! i guess your average u.s. citizen
is more despotic than the *******
president... then...

again.. blah blah blah blah blah...
blah blah.... blah blah blah blah blah...
blah... blah blah... blah blah blah blah blah blah...

you'd sooner convince a parrot to sing
you a song in sparrow than call this "debate"...
evenly focused on one or neither side "winning".
Trevor Gates Apr 2013
VI.


Welcome back

To the greatest show on earth

Well

At least your earth

Your world

Your mind
Your brain and skull and cartilage
And blood and guts and nails.

Your ears and your nose and your eyes
Your mouth and your fingers and your teeth

The bile, the pus, the plasma, the snot, the discharge

The everlasting, physical being of our callous calamity:
The flesh of dehumanization;
The soul of debauchery;
The mind of maliciousness;
The avarice of mortal delusion
Forged from the blade of segregation

Titans of industry
Gods of ******
malcontent youth
Diseased from each other
And their mentors

The masters
The hands
The hands smothering your body in mud, caressing your skin with a lovely touch.
Fingers smooth out wet clay on your chest; on your *******
Coming around to feel your goose bumps
Your *******
Your aroused body
I can feel your heavy breathing
Is it getting hot in here?
Fog up the windows
Let me unbutton this shirt
Or maybe I'll just rip it off

Suckling on my finger.  I feel your hands wrap around my belt
Pull it off

Open your mouth
Let me enter
Pull me closer
Deeper
Let me know you want me to please you
To satisfy you
I will

It's getting bigger
Harder

It's getting warmer
Hotter
Wetter

The sweat around your *** is the sweetest

Pull, squeeze, moan, beg, roar, toss, push, ******, finger, lick, bite, drool, eat, play, ******, moan, ****, ****, touch, ****, turn, harder, faster, moan, slower, deeper, longer, push, pop, rush, ***, stroke, slither, bite, lick, ****, roll, eat, ****, gasp, ****, moan, ******, ****, bite, push, ****, ******, ****, lick, squeeze, moan, faster, ****, deeper, again, again, again, and
Again.

Rise

Rise

Again

The Neon angels
The paranoid androids
The singing kings
The screaming queens
The velvet demons
The glorified burnouts
The occupants of netherworld Los Angeles
Of upside down New York
Of abstinent Paris
Of Leather clad London
Of **** chum *** Boston
Of nuclear Moscow
  
Of this and that and another one of those and a round on the house!

(applause)



Dedicated to: Milk, shampoo, James Dean, Pink Floyd, Feudal Japan, Terry Gilliam, Rasputin, Marquis De Sade, Archangel Gabriel, Shiva, Gary Oldman, USB cables, Staplers, Converse shoes, California license plates, George Harrison, Jaguars, Quantum Physics, down syndrome, Jason Lee, Lily Allen, Indian women, Multi-colored rain, manbearpig, Pandora Peaks, Dethklok, The Evil Dead and of course all those that need no introduction.  

We'll see you soon.
This is part of a free-formed writing exercise I developed to cope with my "Creative isolation"

long story.
enjoy
The room was filled with burnout nuts who looked half crazy dear lord what was someone as normal as me doing here.
Yeah dont laugh im being serious or however ya spell it.

The group slash cult leader approached the mic.
Hello im Dan .
Hello Dan.

Dear lord these people were some brainwashed hampsters almost as bad
as that voodoo priestest Taylor Swift yeah Her new song sounds just like her last okay.
the only people who like her are kids and perverts that reminds me gotta put that video on mute when i
watch it it really messes up the mood what!
Im talking bout when im writting ya perves haha no im not.

Enough with the foreplay kids.
The man went into his speech how he used to snort lines that went from here to texas
picked up hookers drank till he passed out.
Hey No wonder this man was a leader he was soon becoming my hero.

But then I hit rock bottem and stopped found Jesus once honestly i didnt know he was lost.
Now he hadnt had a dam bit of fun in four years i couldnt contain my laughter
what a ***** huh?
I said to the old drunk beside me.

Hey what you got in that cup there grandpa.
He just looked at me in a strange manner must be on a hell of a trip lucky *******.
He spoke slow in a ***** old seductive kinda scared shitless by me manner
It's Koolaide.

Yeah weird mixer what ya trying to pick up kids ya nut what else is in it?
This oldman was playing a game yeah  sure dont share you old ***** hound
my flask was nearly empty and my patience was fading with every sober ***** that took the stage Jesus people it was listening to Jeff Foxworthy it's great if your ******* but honestly its one step above a ******* puppet.

The group of lame areses was almost done when they looked at me hey there friend feel like sharing?
It was something I should fight but a mic and stage was as tempting as a
wild turkey and college keg party.

Why not.

Hey Kids Im Gonzo!
Hey Gonzo jesus it was like dealing with a human parrot or Brittney Spears really
you've  seen one mindless drone ya seem em all.

I took a deep sip from my coffee with a little something extra cup
mmm acid and folgers it goes togather like teens and ****** reallity  shows ******* MTV!

Well Im Gonzo , Hello Gonzo.
Look meeting of the living braindead it's funny the first time okay.
Okay jesus these people were bad as a boy band dam three tenors yeah your all
hot and can sing opera but wants to party to that ****.

Look here  Ive been drinking since 12  umm commited alotta fun crimes
Once paid the babysitter to show me her *******  yeah I know winning.
Ive been in 20  car crashes some of em not just other peoples cars  like I can afford one.

Ive done every drug known to man and some that arent made by people named skull and eightball.
dated strippers snorted coke off of more than just a table  get your mind outta the
gutter cause if ya dont your gonna end up like me serious!

My wife is full of life and strung out on pills that reminds me
i gotta pick her up after cheerleading practice.
Ive been in the iron bar hotel many a night yeah that ****** but he hairy guys are great to cuddle with
like big teddy bears who'll **** you yeah that ****** so ive herd well yeah.

The group was silent till DR Downer spoke up but when did you hit bottom.
Sir thats my personal life okay and besides i not that hung okay.
But you stopped right.

Stopped what are you high on crack Bobby Brown?  
First off amigo its cheap second I aint stopping till im dead yeah i could work out have no
fun and spend the rest of my life speaking in front of nuts who used to be cool
Like you Irene hey personally i wish i had seen you in the ******* cause you seem
like a nice lady and really easy to get into bed okay yeah im
sensative I always pay after that's manners.

The crowd was filled with something what was this place Jonestown
Look at what ya all become eating cookies and drinking **** I wouldnt even
drink when i was ******* five okay.

And you ****** Dave well okay it's kinda weird ya hung out in park restrooms
But if only you had met George Micheal maybe then he'd still be making good  records but ya gotta have faith im just saying.

Sure you can be nice live good yeah then one day ya cross the street and some *******
spoiled brat   teenager  who just got his license runs over your *** cause he's texting sally
asking to see her **** to share e with the rest of the football team okay.

Hey whatever happend to *** drugs and rock n roll kids.
**** living forever.
Lets party now and ***** tommorow cheers I kicked back the last
of the wild turkey hitting that liver like a sledge

The group was silent yet again **** I had crossed the line yet again ahh someone needs a spanking
but enough bout lady gaga.

Sir there leader said leave now!
Just then like something off of saturday night pro wrestling.
A folding chair hit the
hugging preachy nut over the head.

***** this guy the old drunk exclaimed lets go get trashed my life ***** lets get some ***** drugs and
Irene crank the music.

And like something outta a stupid wholsome after school special my heart grew
okay aybe thats a bit much .

We were off like fellow addicts set lose in a world as ******* up as us
And everything was as messed up as us we partyed laughed made some movies of are own that probaly wont be seen on tv anytime soon.

And we lived in the moment cause its all we ever have.
And this perves gonna make sure his is
******* fun stay crazy and avoid the clap love always
Gonzo
Robert C Howard Mar 2017
With head bowed and eyelids sealed in prayer,
    an Arapahoe youth crouched atop Old Man Mountain
waiting alone in silence for a dream to come -
    a dream to reveal the course of his future days.

A rush of wind bent and shook the silvery aspens
    and the breath of his ancestors came and whispered,
“You are to be a shepherd of the mountains.
    You will gather and tend the sheep of the slopes
that your people may gain warmth and shelter
      against winter’s harshest chill and searing winds.”

Guided by the moon and morning constellations,
     the youth, now elevated to manhood
descended the mountain with joy-filled heart
     to reveal his vision to his people.
    
*© 2017 by Robert Charles Howard
Ken Pepiton Sep 2022
Analog, anabasis… trip, short, burn the bug to carbon dust…

Seeking in my treasury of books, pared down to ones with personal attachments,
- I sought a Welsh-English pocket dictionary, gifted me
- by a taller and older, by experience, Overmeyer… Bob,
- but he was one of a few in the corp, band of brothers,
- who sang along with me, when he heard me humm,
- he knew the words, worth-ship fixing words, yes,
- we shall gather at the river that flows by the throne of truth. Mmmmhmm, so we shall see, so we shall see,
Oldman river, you know,
you wait, and wait, fishin' wishin' cogitations got from *** go,
known good, known evil, and evil comes for effect, not cause,
clean up, aisle five
hell, in a target store. And a Walmart, #26.
-- I recognized the anti particle, passing through either or,
becoming here, from there, your thinking my thinking,

wall of text, in your current context, this wall has hat

hooks to insights marked pertinent someday, in the wide ocean
at the end of any river mind me and error master,
as awareness, meandering as all fluids do.
Aligning in honed most saline crystaline form, as
current opinions shapened from dust and ash originally,
then spit the idea out as a word,
imagine
matter… mater, really, bottom first bit, was realized after
paterialization falled to manifest self reproduction…
patterned thought, fabrication, plane geometry… which we
as a team, a man and his tools, gunslinger, plus accoutrements.

Yep. Adam, did not work alone. The egg was first. He named eggs.
And chickens, full of eggs, no, hope, and chaos, nada mas…
- morals from old stories, we had lost all hold on those…
Stepmothers after The Hundred Years war, like as not was
first slave, with only obey believed enforce,
as far as
holy vows spoke allowed, but in a whisper…
hear us,
old folk, we scatterbrained old rockers by the fireplace
listen, this is living, right.
Pursue haps as haps occur, in thinking one thing or this other,

Our kind, fixed position ears perpindicularly augmenting per-
iferal vision, if, just, if. Immeasuarable meanings, justice, yes,

we settled at that point. All the Promises - in any living faith,
even dying proves life is a chance, we all go through it, and some leave marks, while others leave a heart felt
oxitocin, not cotin, red on yellow, **** a fellow, -tocin. Oxitocin,

Rush!- Kettle DRUM after a cello up run, or an old familiar rif,
Goin' up country, ' bought a map for a dime,
from a time lain aside in book, as I was seeking that Welsh word for these experience in side, feeling inside, but being mere, yes, not a limiting adjectival modification, on a word, intended to soothe,

NOT ******, soothe, as said of gentle rolling seas, calm as constant as Jupiter's ever near there, right there, red spot, there,
that is an anomoly, yet, there are those who claim clarity, that

Red spot, Ted-talk phaze, ease in, get a buzz, mmmm, slow, slow

slow
whoa, so slow, what difference can plain-people, just us,
can we ever just know, this is the way, no obstacles,
and we leave trails, and trails widen, and widen, and widen,

wide as the milky way as seen from North Korea.
What a blessing, right?
--- God made these chickens we are eating,

no, child we selected these big red hens, people, like us, we can
know how earthly goods grow and we can help, as gard'ners,
retired guardians and priests can, make soil richer,
by leaven from the native soil,
fresh after fire, sparks the bloom

Patience, paid close attention, over time,
pay is as interest always is, compounding…
complex knots
slipping infinite loops generation systems
spinning straw to gold, bricks to build a tower…

to grow mustard into brocolli and cauliflower, prosper-o

we can engineer squash blossuming
be.. not spelch-pstpst-offt-listen,
- laughing
in my home are children, aged 6 to 13, across a seven year gap…
in my home with complete 5G internal Wifi, with cable
- copper, ah
- the humm, copper wire interference, acceptible as soft
- sub-spectra sfumati self-edged,- cut from whole cloth
abrupt.
Con, is with, fuse, is
blown… but, click, we are past that, where I live, on a pension.
I survived an oath in a war. And in America, the we, as
represented in Congress after Korea, and UCMJ, reach, reach,
- remember the ears that read, need to know
right, MP talk, uniform, all the exact same alignment and weave… for forsake, forsooth, forgotten gains, -- un-fore-gotten
upright walking, living concept, Phoebe Zeitgeist
- she made a word nest in my mind, on March 16, 1968.
- On a Douglas Flying Tiger insertion mission,
Flying to a foreign land more foreign than any thus far, redux.

Surreal stepped up to real, realms of preception, Metaverse/
uniform code under it all, we wished for this, can we, can we,

please, walk back in and watch the shadows morph to home sized I-max with true-fi dolby optimized to your very own, humanity
verified self--
- eyes up, look where we were when ever, then be come you now known as dear reader, responsibility free, cookie or no?
Be any mind you find you can wear with no wish to lie,
the wrong mind set with the ears and eyes, and we cannot lie…
you lose.
The whole ritual of prayer and supersites, tics, ****. We glow…

once illegal exposure
confidential, super-secret, super-positioned tyrannical systems,

whole cloth leprosy, black mold to dust time sequence…
-- such minds as fed us Elliot and Thorough Error-prone Poses,

as seen from the repressed mind of an unassimulated inate-ifity,
We are none of us, Adam sons, his model had nor repro circuits.

Hey, once there had to be something akin to ****** birth,
really, mitochondria developed virally, just fine, so, so fine,

imagine, we got the cell, a wall, with enzyme will efforts on the doors, we open to need, and useful matter is accepted,
as in another phase we open to expel the uselesshit, which then fills the red corpuscles, which use iron to hold the load.

Flushing blushing bride, Mito-mom, her daughters, imagine…

trackless wasteland, aftermath of minor miscalculation
in the dancing cosmos, whirling
whiling, smiling
inside…

I made it. 2022, Everest Pax, is the real name
of my youngest grand son, who randomly
reassures me he loves me, as though he wishes me
to not let that slip, naturally, his version of me is fragile,

what he imagines I am can disappear, in a day,
like Uncle Mike, and Uncle Dennis, and Uncle Richard,
and Uncle Remus…
none of whom were alive, when Everest Pax was named,
by his mother, with no input from me, save
the covenant aspect in the who gives this wombed man…
common pagan ritual adapted to post-Jesus Christ-sanity.

X-mas, nada mas. Agree, and take the cookie,
or risk another death,
on the real wrong battlefield… Well, what the hell… hero
or legend in my mind, thinking, what would any who do?
Raw raw raw
Valsa George May 2021
Looking out through the window of his lonely cottage
The old man vacantly gazed,
At the lazy curl of smoke from the chimneys
His eyes further wandered over
to the dew dampened meadows
And the sloping paths that ran round

Over them how many times, he had rambled leisurely
With Jack, his spaniel that died a few months ago
Though single with no legacy to leave behind
Never before he felt so lonely as of late
And the memories of his dog keep haunting him.

One morning he found his dog lying stretched out
Alas! From that slumber, he didn’t rise!

Now with nothing to look forward to in life
He is in no hurry to leave his cottage as before
Each day starts with the same ritual
Every day the old man would brew his tea
Pour it steaming into his large porcelain mug
And gets settled on a chair by the table
Looking through the small window,
His main opening into the wider world

Sometimes from the pantry
He would bring a can of biscuits
And munch a few along with his cup of tea
This, he did as an unfailing routine
When his dog Jack was with him!
Every morning the dog would be there at his feet
Its greedy eyes glued to the biscuits in his hand
When there was but just one left with him,
He would lift the biscuit right over the dog’s head
A cue for Jack to stand up and have his share

When it rises up wagging its tail in joy
Sometimes he would place his fore finger on his lips
And the dog discerning what its master meant
Would soon sit down obediently and remain quiet
When he got convinced that Jack took his orders,
He would hold the biscuit between his fingers.
When on its hind legs it rises, balancing into a waltzing step,
The biscuit would be dropped into its gaping mouth!

Now each day as he sips his tea
He sorely misses his dog and its pranks
His world is so cold and he feels so lost
Once his dog shared his board and owned his bed
More than ever he missed him now
Who stood so faithful unto the last

With mist blurring his eyes and with a sigh
The old man once more looked into the meadows far away!
A simple poem that can be read like a story. All dog lovers can relate to the feelings the oldman shares
tian Dec 2015
(Classic music playing, people with masks are dancing)

I was once invited into a fairytale-like occasion
Yes, it's true, it's not a delusion
An event where I can hide my identity
A place of silence, an oasis of serenity
A place where I couldn't recognize faces
But I can hear their distinct tone of voices

Some sits quiet, pretending to be mysterious
Some keep it real, yet they look so serious
People will judge you in the attire you wear
That will give you an uneasy feeling by their intimidating stare
What I wear is a suit colored like the sun
Given and knitted by my lovely oldman

(A man shouts, "this is the moment for the final dance
Grab your partners now for a tremendous performance"
)

As I roam, I saw someone alone in a room
Wearing a tiara symbolizes the moon
She was in tears, holding a glass of whine
I realized she isn't fine
I walk towards her to offer my hanky
She grab it to wiped her tears then she smiled at me

Oh, she exhibits her glossy red lips
Crossing paths with her feels like eclipse
Her eyes shining bright likes the stars in the galaxy
I'm so in love in this blissful remedy
I can see through the facade and tell she's in distress
I also can feel the sorrowful sensation in my chest

(The emcee shouts again for the last time,
"We'll now be playing the last song in line")

When I heard the emcee, I questioned myself "what to do?"
I told my self, "I'm gonna dance her that's what I need to"
I didn't let anxiety rush in, so I close the doors for it
Final count, And I said in the final minute,

**"You are worth beyond that mask,
Just one dance, that is all I ask"
From the album, "UNORTHODOX KIND OF POET"

Enjoy.
The blood
A short
slim athlete
Running
In track filled with holes
Like beehive
Asphalted on the ground
All that
Is for an oldman
To raise his tall from a dining table
My dear, erudite fellow…!
Schemed and skilled in academic prowess
Celebrated at your time as accomplished
At your season you were adhered and revered
Extol in your adorn ceremonial gown and cap
That Season are memories well celebrated and spoken of
But seasons come, seasons go!
Old seasons heralds’ new seasons
And yet new season another season
Seasons come in succession and progression
One birthing another, for yet another
And another like in circles
No! not circles of rounds but pyramids of circles
Changing hypotheses Progressing humanity;
Nomenclatures of human existence needing no divinations.
However, Human perversions; greed, pride, and more….
Configurations that have nibbled nature and time scheduled blessings:
A beautiful life, charming nature, a gift scuttled by vein makeups.
Make-ups that changes originality and mars the truth!
Sir, your celebrated research and findings were great yesterday
Beautiful yesterday was history for great tomorrow to cope.
Oh! Beautiful yesterday, salty today not fit tomorrow
The irony of seasons gift of nature but welcomed
Welcomed like the plantains stems that plans its maturity and gives way.
Do we say more?
Of the pumpkins that spreads its hands and tips, anchor its support to grow and births great seeds to replace itself
For posterity is in the replication of self in truth and character:
The excellence of continued originality in human search and psyche
This is the Hallmark of Academic definitions and redefinitions.
Societal evolutions pass on from age to age, from generation to generation.
Wither re’ you’ sir?
-_______________
__­___________       _______________
Deep seethed question you only can answer.
But you ought to know this…...!
The ground is not strong enough to stop sprouting young seeds.
Nathan Vienneau Jul 2014
Drifting happily in its sea of mountain air,
Growing heavy, it gives life to the earth,
Rolling hills spotted with evergreens,
Oldman River wizened with the flow of time,
Nature’s wall reaching to the heavens,
Emerald valleys, Castle in the Clouds,
Golden eagle  hunts for prey.
Dawn of Lighten Jul 2016
I hated you so much for making me your slave,
Stoled everything I had from me.
You made our family life miserable,
And I blame you for my mother's death.

Now you are in the death bed,
And am I suppose to feel for you?

You would think I would feel certain level of sympathy to your current circumstance, but I feel numbness in this endeavor.

You think I would feel at least an empathy,
But your diabetes got the best of you,
Because you never listened to the warnings.

I feel this coldness in me like the Minnesota winter,
And I thought I would never have to go back.

Do you want me to ask for your forgiveness oldman?

I have no desire to go to Minnesota for you,
And whatever is left of your son died in me.

What the hell am I suppose to feel?
So here it is, the man I told myself I will never be, and now pondering my next move! I will be traveling to Minnesota at some point I suppose, and this uneasy feeling I can't seems to shake it off.
Justine Louisy Jun 2020
Crisp mornings.
The crispness inflamed the soles of my stem.
I shiver at the thought.
The shiver ponders my mind to the last days I ....

Enough.
The succulent hands of the summer breeze is here.
Myself and the other folks sway and cheer,
sitting on the tailored twigs of Oldman the oak tree.
Spencer the sun glazing our trichomes.
Warmth.

We exchange gentle rustling two and fro,
like the sound of an ancient ***** awaiting to uplift the show.
Blackbirds and wood pigeons in the air,
up against each other to strike the berry in the bush goal.
What a perfect life I’m pleased to see.

Maggie magpie why do you perch on my branch so?
your bewitching colours like a piercing cry,
surely I’m not yet to..

The howling of the clouds,
the punches of lightening,
The heavens they open,
good gracious how frightening.

The kicks of the autumn breeze is here.
Stomata is failing.
Stomata is failing.
I’m latching onto the twig,
my ancient armchair.

Carotenoids and Xanthophyll’s,
dehydrated wrinkly skin.
Gut wrenching red anthocyanin,
like lucifer leukaemia stabbing my soul.

Crisp mornings.
I disconnect.
I fall.
I hit.
I lay.
In the flurries of snow,
amongst my other folks.

Oldman the oak tree hospice is empty once again.

RIP

Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
So this poem is one of my older poems when I first started writing around 4 years ago... a metaphorical piece with a lot of context. Hope you enjoy 😊 !!
I was high, oh my, higher than a bird
flies on the breeze, gliding that fast track
to the sun

Anchored by a hunka heavy bass guitar
jumpin' up and down singin' chunky words
look around, those my friends strappin' guitars and drum sticks
call us Behemoth, heavy and hairy and loud
call us Godzilla spittin' radioactive beams
but we been up here for four hours
anybody listening?
I got secrets of the universe stashed
in the second chorus of Dazed and Confused
People, you missin' out

Whose that spittin' at the table at the stage?
she keep tryin' to catcha my eye
she done caught my attention
gal knows I'm only playing two more songs
I telepathically dedicate the last one to her
I'm sending signals and suggestions till my knuckles are blue

Hot **** the girl done understand
I got her right where I want her
feelin' bored I'm needing a lot more so I say
"condition, baby, who is that lady
hanging on to you all of the night?
You think she's down for some animal action
with me and you in the hotel tonight?
cause I don't feel like a natural man
that's not what I want to be
I'm tired of settling for one, how 'bout you?
when I can get me two, two and one makes three

She introduced me to her own best friend
I smoked a bowl of some bud
they weren't looking too bad before
but that herb had 'em lookin' REAL good!

It was on like a *** of neckbones
we was making movies
feeling groovy, feelin' frisky, feelin' high
feelin' fine, feelin' fine, feelin' fine
we crawled together like a funky new animal
swapping each other's sweat
just when I thought I couldn't take it no more
the two on 'em swore they wasn't half finished yet
I gave 'em one more hour then I hadda shut it down
though I appreciated the party goon' down

They was gettin' dressed and puttin' their shoes on
the first turned 'round to me
she was the prettiest of the two
so I listened to what she thought we should do
"let's do this again maybe tomorrow morning "
I admit that sounded like a capital idea
"you guys rock and you deserve to live the life"
I most surely could not argue with that

Went to her crib next morning
ready for a repeat performance
but she opened the door with a sad face
"baby," she said,"my oldman's gettin' outta prison today
he'll be here anytime "
I could read in her face
not even enough time to knock off a quickie
in fact she looked frightened
as if he might walk in the door any minute
I wondered if he knew what a free spirit his wife was
this was the first time I was aware she had been married

I turned and walked to my car
perhaps no groovy lovin' but at least I wasn't riddled with bullet holes
I will live to rock another day
but I don't harbor any illusions
I'll ever kink as supremely
as I did when I had those two beauties
and those two beauties sho nuff had me
Dawn of Lighten Oct 2016
Strange how 28 years of life I have lived in Minnesota felt so foreign as I delve around the city, but feeling bitter sweet knowing I will be going back to Kentucky tomorrow.  

I definitely have not missed Minnesota fall with drizzling rain, and the cold air that overwhelm the city, but the city lights are hopping as usual.

How I missed the cultural buildings, and the fashion that truly define Minnesota, but saddening to have missed the art museums or theaters.

As of late it seems family gathering is what binds me to this place, and even though I have lost all senses or care for him, watching him in his weak state makes me vulnerable.  I hate feeling weak, or having no control over my emotional state. While I have kept positive reinforcement with my oldman's prospect, deep down I felt uncomfortable about the surrounding.

In all retrospect however it was good to see relatives and friends, and I wish I could have prolonged my visit for another week to catch up with people I've missed, but my life in Kentucky have been written in stone. Only vacation or family duty would allow me to leave Kentucky, and it seems it is another good bye for now.

Take good care Minnesota, and hope to see you again.
Putting life in perspective.
Uma natarajan Apr 2021
The Oldman with the ragged coat, stays near the river
He celebrates his life's each moment with fervour
The lush green coconut trees around him enthralls
And also  the fish swimming deep diving with a fall
Most of the time the old man spends his time on nature 's lap
As the wind blows and the masts of boat flutters with a tap
He embraces the rising waves ensuring  its gap
With a weak vision and thin body, he moves with a smile
In the midst of tangles this silver lining of smile lasts for a mile
Columbusphere Aug 2020
You, have conflict with the chill night air.
Tussling tight in your bag for warmth
Knotting yourself in twisted clothes,
A chattering of bones, that won’t quiet...
Discomfort strikes harder
Flipping its attitude in anger.
You boil in nausea as the sun rises
Clawing fingers over limbs, breaking out
Of your tent that’s abominably silent.
The quiet culprit, burns as an oven.
Uninterested in your clogged airways
And ketchup red eyes, glued shut in sleep.
You stalk, like Gary Oldman, burnt by sun
As Dracula, weakened by day,
By the pollen. That has you sneezing
Twelve or fifteen in a row,
Stoney rings about your eyes, you meet mine
And brandishing an arm up high
(To smear away the allergy) you say,
‘Never again. Never again in my life
Will I, go camping.’
© 2020 Columbusphere All rights reserved

Inspired by an Icelandic man with hay fever.
Jay earnest Mar 2021
777
The shine wore off so who sees me now.
The rag lines the gutter and the dog ***** on a mushroom, I kick some dirt.

Wow its cold and frosty now so I can run around the block

Wow I see Oldman nibba suckling on a pear
"Sup nibba"
His neck bounces with ease.


I put a sandal on a padlock and crush the skull of a transient, had no name,  no residence bleeding. I feel the wine now. Shapeless. Who's fault was it.

Now you see,  now you see,  there are only 2 eyes and not enough time to dream. So throw it away or don't.  I don't care. I'm still locked away in this den nestled among scraps of ****

— The End —