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Larry Potter Jul 2013
I was hungry enough to eat the **** end of a skunk.  I felt like gobbling the whole mound of concrete that is half an hour closer from becoming a part of my room.  Make that a quarter. I guess my tummy has had enough grumbling, like a seething network of volcanoes ready to devour Hawaii.  I am sure as exhausted as a zombie after a “battle of life and death” handling a plethora of carpentry tools which I have managed to rummage from our dismal basement.  I’m quite serious with the phrase “battle of life and death”.  I get to have this Obsessive Compulsive Syndrome which gulps a huge amount of my rhythm compelling me to put things in place especially in my chamber.  At times, a weltered pen could instigate an emotional havoc.  Or perhaps an inappropriate collaboration of curtain hues and mattresses would be ample to spin the color wheel concept out of my brain.  But now, my walls have done it.  Well, it was just a microscopic sight of a divine crevice, but how in the world could that escape my eyes?  Without a second thought, I approved an avid proposal from my subconscious – a full concrete room renovation.  And that’s how it brings me here, smothering the last square inch of the genius blueprint with this porridge of lime and clay, the hell with chemistry!  I have found out that my room has achieved the piquancy of a sizzling summer noon, thanks to the mist of dust and the precipitating drops of sweat that come tingling down my overheating body.  Ah! At least my system tells me that I’m not a promising patient of ****** dysfunction.  When the last patch has been perfectly planed in place, I drew my last ounce of pure strength and plunged into my most formidable bed, congratulating myself for a job well done. Alas! A thirty-minute nap and I’m ready for a superb coffee and doughnut delight.

I woke up from a cat’s screech. I peeped through the window. The nap breaker was a Cheshire, one with a dimmer fur, the stripes of gray suppressing the darker color.  Its tail enjoyed dancing around its rear, connoting either fear or excitement. It sure has a distinctive mischievous grin.  The feline was on the verge of climbing up the roof by jumping from a gutter about five feet away.  It seemed to have slipped but has managed to bring its **** next to the roof tiles. It stared at me with intent, giving me the macabre look from its glaring eyes.  It’s as if I’m being watched, stalked and examined in a way I couldn’t see, bringing me that feeling of guilt, of remorse.  Urgh! That’s why I hate cats.  Though I’m planning to keep one, I’ll reconsider it.  But what pains me more is to discover that my alarm was not able to do the job and so I slept three hours more than planned.  I looked down and saw the city lights flashing one by one, the beams glowing like a barrier of radiance diffusing into the gloom of the night. I guess this was the price I have to pay. I traded my snack with a peaceful hibernation, turning the coffee into a glass of iced tea and the doughnut into a great dinner with me, myself and I.

I have learned to cook since I was ten.  My mother believed that culinary prowess could be inherited from generation to generation.  And so, she put her trust on me and I haven’t failed her ever since.  This gourmet brilliance proves to be very useful at times of solitude when you got bored of ordering other’s recipes and decided to make your own buffet.  I remembered her telling me that all food would taste good if there is the chef’s heart flavored in it.  Cooking is an art, combining the loops and the whoops of seasonings and spices to the medley of meat and herbs.  Tonight, I decided that my dinner would equal breakfast, satisfying the grudge that I got from skipping my  diabetic snack attack.  A beef stew and a side of paella made my stomach die in joy, appeased at last that my gears are energized for my routinely nocturnal bookworming activity.

I normally hide under my sheets at nine but tonight, I shall break the rules. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll fix the rules next time. Just this time to spare for I have gained interest on this book entitled “100 Years of Solitude”, talking about how one could live happily even alone, just by creating the world you have ever dreamed of. Gabriel García Márquez is dumping the “no man is an island” concept which anyway sounds inspiring to me.  Finally, I jumped into bed thanking Him for letting me outrun another day living alone in a comfortable apartment, free from all sorts of vexation.  I wished for a better life at school, which gives me an imagery of dull monochromatic memories.  I am not that famous but I can be someday.

A heavy beam of sunlight pierced through my window, refracting on the ***** white floor and creeping up to the mahogany table just right at the corner.  It intercepted with the glass pyramid and created a beautiful prism that glittered all around my room.  It was a really majestic scenery, one that I luckily happen to see every morning, a good optic background, I guess. Two hours before class time – that’s where my pattern starts.  Take a bath, eat, brush teeth, groom, check the doors and power, then I’m off to go. Everybody follows a certain kind of pattern, that’s for sure. Whether you wear different types of clothes everyday or use competing brands of toothpaste, clothes are clothes and toothpastes are toothpastes.  As humanity finds more and more complexities in life, they become wired to doing the things and involving the events which they think would give happiness to them and simplify their equation of life.

As a proof, there’s Mrs. Lanny Honeycut from the house next door. She usually sprinkles her daisies every ten in the morning, wearing that friendly neighborhood smile. On their patio, you could never miss a day seeing her husband, Mr. Blake Honeycut reading the daily papers with a round of tea, jam and bread spread on his table.  On the busy intersection stands traffic enforcer, Red Mayer, waving his arms to and fro while wearing that aura of valor, never seem to get tired of doing the same thing over and over again. Thousands go out for work and go back to sleep everyday and that's the status quo we're talking about. Even inside the academic arena, you can still hold on to that thought; I mean the size of the population doing the same pattern at the same time – my schoolmates, enemies and… friends? Well, I’m not quite sure with the last one, but it’s this: they all make a fun of me.  They say I’m a dork, a nerd, a geek, a freak, and etc.  I wonder if they mean everything that they say or say everything that they mean.  Either way you put it, I’m not buying it. I am not what they say I am.  I just like being alone and that’s where I do best.

And as always, the school is crowded with busy people rushing through the corridors. Others are beating the deadlines while some are happy they could breathe for another break. But no matter how busy everybody could be, there is always a time spent for “information dissemination” or chitchats. But only this time, the topic discussed is the same.  I could hear it on the entire campus, everywhere in the perimeter. Another student in the university is missing leaving no trace of existence.  It’s been going on like this for over two months now and the university council has taken their best courses of action to unknot this mystery while campaigns have been running on TV’s and vigils were spent. Not that I don’t care but it seems that this is also happening to other places, I mean, this is not the only school where maniacs could exist and become professional serial rapists in the making. By the way, this is already the 12th case on the record. Weren’t people overreacting to the issue? Isn’t the case overrated? Did they reject the possibility that these people ran away because they got pregnant, messed up or something like that? Soon, the university area was covered with security troops roaming around like a swarm of bees, buzzing and sometimes boozing all the time.

I guess that’s what happens when you hang out too much with friends who are just jesters plotting your own jeopardy. I don’t think it would be good at all to be bothered with things like that because sometimes, it’s also useful not to have any use at all.  Like the king being admired by his kingdom amidst his sloth and compromises.  But that doesn’t mean I’m not friendly anymore. Actually, if it happens that I got company, I would magnanimously offer a treat at my place.  But the thing is, who would likely do that? I’d cross my fingers on it.

Wishes do come true even for a loner like me.  I think I have a fan. No, that would be too sublime. She’s hot and she’s hotter when you’ll know she’s so cool. Quite a paradox, but that’s just reality.  We came to know each other on our lab class. Her name’s Athena, fitting for her twisted logic and good humor. It makes me burn a lot of calories when I talk to her more than a 5-mile marathon could squirt. We were lab partners and we get along well. I just couldn’t figure out where she got the courage to befriend me. I do regard myself as unwelcoming species, but I might work on it when someone tries to knock the door. We juxtapose ideas. Yes, that’s what makes our conversations spin like a merry-go-round. But we enjoy it nevertheless, evident by the crescent smile we both generate out of the craziest topics in store. Once, she interrogated my way of settling wars with enemies. Well, I told her it was my habit of treating them to my house and giving them souvenirs to show how sorry I could be. She snickered and her eyes glowed like the Andromeda and her face shun the whole universe. Oh, I can do this all day long, if only I got hold of time and space.

Today, she asked me if it would be okay if she’ll stay at my place till nine when her dad could be home and she would be able to call her and ask to pick her up. She reasoned out that otherwise, the night would be scary because she’ll be alone in their house, no company, no security. I was puzzled how the thought of being alone could scare her. It is like freedom from any constraints, no ties, and no limits. But I couldn’t blame her. She’s too fragile, too vulnerable to handle it with herself.  With the speed of the light, I accepted the favor.  Well, that goes even without saying.

It was past six thirty when we arrived at my immaculate apartment. It’s great to be an“ OC” sometimes, I said to myself.  I thought of a winner dinner, one that would make her visit worth reminiscing. I preferred Italian.  I cooked her lasagna and drenched the dinner with sherry. We talked a lot until we run out of resorts. I guess she planned it, or I planned it, synergy perhaps.

The clock ticked nine and there’s no sight of her father’s getaway car. But there’s no sign of worry in her countenance either. I surmise it didn’t reach her inkling yet to phone her dad.  She was busy dissecting my kitchen and living room with her very playful eyes. That doesn’t trouble me though. That’s just as instinctive as any other first time guest could get. She grappled her attention on my antique collection of prehistoric movies, like the Scarlet Letter, The count of Monte Cristo and the likes. She happened to love them too. Well, that makes her more beautiful to me, other than the satin white dress she wears. Suddenly, she got the impulse of going to my room. She said there’s nothing more exciting to see than a gentleman’s bedroom. I startled from the request, but before I could say anything, she leaped straight to my chamber with the gestures of an imp. It’s weird to be in this kind of circumstance because I don’t often invite a lot of visitants to my room. I ain’t no hotel crew, bowing down and waving his hand to the chamber’s destination and leading the VIPs to their cabins. Yet this time, it’s the other way around: it’s my cabin.

But now it’s too late to stop her. She molested the **** and I giggled for some reason. Finally, the door opened a crack and a bend of light escaped from inside. She stepped in, and I followed. She was filled with awe not because my room is all made of gold nor did it resemble a royalty’s den. It was the exaggerated neatness and order that greeted her. In some unknown vortex of my deepest imagining, it made me feel like I’ve been through this instance before. The flashback is not so vivid as it appears, but something tells me this isn’t the first time. Deja vu could be working on it, I infer,although I don’t really believe in those forms of conceptualizations. Perhaps it’s the sherry’s spell infiltrating my mental prognosis. But something, I guess, isn’t really right.

I caught her opening a red box that was hidden behind my cabinet. I tried to steal it away from her but she fought back and it came tossing down the floor. Numerous items spilled from the case. A purple head band with the glittering initials ANNE, a ruby embedded bracelet, and a Nokia handy phone exposed the secrecy. This isn’t going to go along well and fine, I guess. A strong surge of desire came from my core. It tried to envelop my entirety and control me like a lifeless puppet. I felt the tip of the pyramid glass in my hand and I succumbed to lose my consciousness.

Morning came and it felt better than ever. It was a ***** Saturday. There she lies beautifully on the deck, like an immortal bud of red rose trapped in golden amber. The cellophane fits her well, and there’s no doubt she’ll be complaining anymore. I already prepared a cozy place for her deep sleep: A 5x2 feet wall engravement which I was busy molding last night. It wasn’t easy making her go to bed but still it ended up smooth and sound. I helped her get up and fitted her in place.I turned on the radio as I reached for my dear carpentry tools. The news was still nailed on it. But this time, the missing case struck for the 13th turn. Ahh, the hell with society! They never really get a way to deal with it.

I was busy patching the last mound of concrete that is half an hour closer from becoming a part of my room. Make that a quarter. I guess there’s no end to this divine crevice issue. It must be following a pattern too. But I can handle it, thanks to this vicarious personality. I wonder if I could get the chance to invite another visitor in my place. But if I do, I would certainly offer the best treatment they could ever have.
Karijinbba Jul 2018
I have been shy with you
because in secret I SIN
THINKING OF YOU
until I melt in your arms
like a candle all night
shy I will be
Unrequieted I've become
LOVE OF MY LIFE!
in secret I remained loving you
all of my life since we met
when I've been all alone
mad passionate love
I made to you
all the night long
but mostly
I  missed you that much more
when I wasn't all alone
and that was my misfortune  
in secret I learned how to
be loving to you
after you left me p/r
just like Rhett
left Scarlett
I wasn't greedy in this life time
I've seen what
jealousy and greed
can do to lost souls
hating me for the absence
of what they had in excess
ignorance and superstition
many a time they did hurt me
unprovoqued
some bid to take my life
and I did weep
I did CRY for your love
for many other reasons
too painful to mention
my lover of life you
I MISSED YOU SO
knowing me was loving me
had you given me a chance
it got harder not to miss you
as each desolate year flew by
cruel Mr time added penance
to my treacherous path
another queen
took your heart
reading into my soul's
inscripted scarler "A"
my heart resigned in a void
when despair plunged  
your daggar on me
many times I promised myself  
to show you love if you ever
returned
I planed to blindfold me  
or meet you in the dark
that you may see my secret
stars sparkling in full array
to earn your love back
I planed to blindfold you too
  to break the
nefarious silence and gap
so you could feel how identical
from every angle we were
interchangeable twin flames
what a rare occurance
that is
the sun light of God
in you face did blind me
the look in your grassy eyes
burned me up
blew me or re-arranged me
froze numb me
only you had that power on me!
you too the light of God
in my face you could see
all sumissive to you
the years now passed
its Winter love
my old lovers, silence, grief martirdum & regret
refused to leave me alone
how I hated them!
and then some
the bad with the well intentioned ones I also refused
my inner core loved only you

please thaw me slowly now
don't dig your knifes in me
can't you see
I've put everything to sleep
who can live in your love without you
in every life time you left me
for another woman
and
each time I took my life
in jealousy I drowned
in silence I died
WHO AM I?
  the woman who loves you
the MOST
in this whole wide world
THAT'S WHO
Karijin! Jump in my pool
now all my lovers have
finally given up and left me
if you still wish to see me cry
USE honey HUG me
kiss me with your Rhett kiss
spirit breath of life
and if you can't
look at your STAR
in your bed
remember my
constellation is Aries
Gods love bid we should
have married
once upon a time
to change the world.
no more class rich could
marry  poor
You changed my life, love
you Rocked my world
I love you forevermore
LOVE OF MY LIFE.
don't dig knifes to see me cry for my diamond or my wedding ring try k uphoney to catch my honey bee. Sorry I stung you I died in pain love of my life
I loved you with a love which had no beginning no end omnipresent you remained my twin shy mam
Nadine Mar 2019
What have I done I wonder why
I'm gentle soft and very shy
I was not the man I am today
But anger hatred has come to stay

I'm really fun and so kind at heart
But others ripped my heart apart
I learnt to fend and fight alone
My body ackes my heart does grown

When I was a little lad
I was happy carefree and never sad
I did the things that small boys do
How I'd turnout no one new

As my toddler years went by
I realised my life was but a lie
Violence, anger, abuse and pain
Would make me hang my head in shame

The happy life I knew before
Had suddenly gone out our back door
Our happy home had disappeared
It looked like evil it's ugly head had reared

Been a kid so young at heart
Like every other kid does start
Had to learnt to grow up fast
And try to run far from my past

But as my teen year went on by
I became more withdrawn and shy
I made wrong choices did wrong things
One night stand and many flings

Drugs, ***** and deep dark things to
Took me to a place so cold and blue
Relationship that never last
Oh if I could just return to my past

As I aged and became much older
Tried to be strong and much bolder
But the past that hunted me
Wouldn't go away you see

I know deep down in side my heart
Everything of me was ripped apart
I'm but an empty shell inside
At least it is my place to hide

Ive pulled so far within myself
All's affected even my health
Im falling deeper into a blacken hole
Ive lost myself and I'm loosing my soul

The ones that are my near and dear
They can not see and do not hear
How could they ever understand
Not even I this was never planed

I can't show love and gentleness
Will my life ever change and be a bliss
I mask my breaking heart inside
Behind smiles and laughter I do hide

I sit alone so many nights
Thinking back on all the fights
I've become my dad you see
The one that totally destroyed me

How do I get my self untangled
When my mind is a mess and mangled
I blame the world for who I've become
At time I wish it was said and done

I lost the ones I loved so dear
Because I caused them constant fear
I never planed to be this man
I should of taken a firmer stand

Face my demons and my past
Then mabye I'd be free at last
But I cant I don't know why
Maybe I'm scared so I live a lie

What I want and what I need
I leave to others and there selfish greed
I never make my own decision
And I have fall into total depression

The ones that think there doing good
If they only really understood
What I yearn for deep inside
My needs my wants my silent cries

I'm at a place so far away
On this earth I don't want to stay
I've given up but still holding on
But the gentle me and selfworth is gone

So in my mind Ill retreat again
Blame the world for all my shame
Tell myself it's not my fault
It's just so hard and difficult

Maybe one day all will change
I know this all sounds very strange
But maybe tomorrow all will be well
And I'll at last come out my shell
betterdays Aug 2014
there are some things,
that just smell so good:
corn freshly shucked, potatoes roasted in campfire coals, carrots fresh from the ground, then washed   and stovetop roasted
basted with butter
and lavender honey.

the nape of my toddlers neck,
that clean fresh hopeful little boy smell.
coffee, straight up, freshly brewed
caramel warming,

passionfruit, strawberries, citrus any type, zested. freshly planed fennel curls, mint crushed for a mojito, roast lamb and rosemary gravy.

the smell of planed wood in the palms of my man's hands as i kiss them. frangipani, coconut tanning oil,
earth newly rained upon. popcorn popping, chocolate melting,
jasmine, orange blossoms,
a grove of pine trees.
warm gingerbread and mulled wine.

salt tang on the morning breeze.
the smell that lingers after the lovin.
garlic and ginger in a hot wok.
salt tang on the evening breeze.
prawns all sea salty and
a crisp cold beer.

sandlewood and citrus aftershave lotion on your smoothed cheek.

nectarines, apricots,
a yellow juicy peach,
freshly bitten.

apple scented shampoo daphne & lilac my nana's smell,
bay *** newspaper print and palmolive soap,
my pop's study.

rose petals crushed.
earl grey tea,
toast just before burning damper and cocky's joy
crisp fresh linen warm from the sun.

so many scents, so many smells...
these are my favourites please feel free to add your's, as long as it's clean
and above board.
damper=camp fire bread similar to soda bread
cocky's joy=goldensyrup.
Karijinbba Nov 2018
My old true love rdd=PC
wrote this poem to me on HP.
~~~~~
"I fall in love."
"Death would be liberating
but I wouldn't suggest jumping off a cliff"
                                               NO
"And for the life of me I hold on
to shaddy realities,
and an odd feeling of never being enough."

"I don't know what will happen"

IT IS ALL OUT OF MY HANDS

IT'S ALL OUT OF TIME"
~~~~
( my spontaniety of first thought)
my response 2018 is:

I fall in love too I choose life.
dearest true love of yore
from your holy hands
your love unto my heart falls
joining my spirit soul
precious twin flame
and here with me  love won't die

nor can unconditional love
into my hands ever perish

true love needs not be liberated
as no TREASON ever existed
you just got me ALL WRONG!

And since when orphanes
in protective custody hiding for their life after Feds and murderers buchered her family and loved ones in childhood

and throughout adolecence years  a faulty weak covert adoption witness protection program forcing victim to live as an exiled fugitive??
due to a horrendous loss of life

You simply didn't know me
for the task you and your brother assigned to me dearest ones
and isn't it treason on your part to abandon an amnesic loved one
only because it wasn't written in an old script?
some lovers being in love
feeling betrayed and hurting
do jump off a cliff
like you did It hurts do much to understand your pain physical and mental too
Still others jump into amnesic shocks becoming like I did
DEATH CALM! its very painful
i had no shell shick therapyst no councellings just hell left behind
I don't recomment either one
ways to hurt for living one another presence was needed!

both ways of hsndling pain
are equally distructive unfruitful look at me now!
you have support family bank
structure how do I win from here  I healed living in denial.
my ignorsnt ways ended in heartbreaking tragedy more for me than for you
You were my hero my knight
I loved you always will i was in love with you I hurt too
We were so identical twin flames from the inside thinking modes
both feeling so small
and never enough for each other!
because we were apart!
And both so brightly colored in the outside with Gs light
very rare occurance
a triumph for the finding
worth the fame intended
worth the pain of defeat endured
for the best can only be bought at the cost of great pain and sacrifice!!
my pain went to sleep in an amnesic transformative shock
I have always loved you
and as you see I did jump!
Right into 'death' and 'knife'
i transformed to survive
Read my birth chart both Death and Knife remain a blessing and a curse to me such mystery
but both protecting me just the same!
two protective mechanisms
per the Mayan calendar.
such a mystery we both are.
Death saving me from 'death'
and knife'cutting' through my pain a cold ice blade
there transforming me
Death Calm and silent!
I am not insensitive I feel love
death needs not be liberating
my soul knowing true love
will rest in peace with some regrets
I promised our unborn childten that no love fame nor great fortune would be greater then the love I feel for them all
and I kept my painful promise
but it was the end of me
In your eyes
I must have shrank smallest yet
misunderstood I go unless you read me here on HP the final fronteer unless you read
my memoir but we are both running out of time
lovers die in more ways than jumping off cliffs

precious love thank you for loving me
it hurt me very deeply to let you go so long ago
I am the woman who loves you the most in this whole wide world
I could have given my life for just one day though to have understood you grabbed you!
to have known what to do
what not to do,
where to go, where not to go,
what to say, what not to say.
what to think and what not to think!
i didn't understand you!
so I feared you
I couldn't fight every greedy jealous woman for your love as the left behind gap how?
forgive me please beloved
I felt too small and worthless

I had no idea anyone on earth would love me too back!
much less enough as to jump of a cliff to hurt that much for my life to benefit as new Eve
even changing earth with you
a worlds new adam Back then

I sincerely did not understand what you had planed to do after my impatient ignorant fall

Life had only taught me
to feel insignificantly tini especially when being taunted
mistreated and challenged
abandonement syndrome
was my demise dince childhood
your mind games and head riddles smothered my dreams
of you me for us.

loving you more than
I loved myself was understood
very well that's what life
had taught me to do
to let go of everything I ever loved the most
when all life did was take chunks of my family and my life.
You were life's reward to me
without you by my side
I became speechless Dead Calm
stump like on Mothers day.

'sorry' can't depict the black hole
that has swallowed you
and me apart
nor pain depict the bottomless pit that living without you is

I too fell into my death
heartbroken as you announced
a JaneHilton freeway driving
in oposite directions was agony when in your letter
you wrote you had a wife!

I fell into the abyss and I died
I was only nineteen then

Then came hell getting me stranded at the fork road
all the way to hell Greece

smily kind penpal demons helped me up a plane ticket

two in all even married me not to avert authorities of my impending death with their treacherous agendas
IT WAS ALL STAGED
as was much of my life on earth.

I am glad we met
glad we loved each other
near or far
in G
s hands we both are.
~~~
By:Karijinbba-Copy Rights
2017 revised 03/ 29/2020.
excerpt from my Memoar written throughout my life.
Mike Hauser Mar 2013
It was late into the night
When Bert Ernie and I
Were traveling across the plans of Nebraska

Much to my surprise
Bert looks me straight in the eyes
And says Mike, I gotta question to ask ya

With Big Bird wrapped up in the trunk
You'd think that he'd already thunk
About this night long before it already happened

When we took Oscar the Grouches can lid
And whacked Big Bird smack dab in the head
Then tied him up tight while he was napping

We rolled him out to curb
Believe me it looked quite absurd
Ernie grunting with Bert complaining as feathers went flying

But as would be our fate
Able to make our planed escape
When Count Von Count took time out to do some feather counting

So this is now where we are
Bert, Ernie, Me, and Big Bird in the trunk of our car
Not really knowing where it is we are heading

Our thinking went only as far
As nabbing Big Bird and the get away car
Putting Ernie in charge wasn't such a good idea is what I am betting

Ernie says he's figured it all out
Bert says we need this, but still has his doubts
Cause Bert owes back pay alimony and Ernie his ******

We head to Ernie's planed drop off spot
And of course it's swarming with cops
While our inside man " The Monster " gave us up for Cookies

They let Big Bird out of the trunk
Who proceeded to slap us punch drunk
Then straight to the judge to pay for this hideous crime

I can't think of any worse fate
I now know this was a fatal mistake
The sentence...
Banished to Sesame Street for life, now that is hard time
Minerva now put it in Penelope’s mind to make the suitors try
their skill with the bow and with the iron axes, in contest among
themselves, as a means of bringing about their destruction. She went
upstairs and got the store room key, which was made of bronze and
had a handle of ivory; she then went with her maidens into the store
room at the end of the house, where her husband’s treasures of gold,
bronze, and wrought iron were kept, and where was also his bow, and
the quiver full of deadly arrows that had been given him by a friend
whom he had met in Lacedaemon—Iphitus the son of Eurytus. The two
fell in with one another in Messene at the house of Ortilochus,
where Ulysses was staying in order to recover a debt that was owing
from the whole people; for the Messenians had carried off three
hundred sheep from Ithaca, and had sailed away with them and with
their shepherds. In quest of these Ulysses took a long journey while
still quite young, for his father and the other chieftains sent him on
a mission to recover them. Iphitus had gone there also to try and
get back twelve brood mares that he had lost, and the mule foals
that were running with them. These mares were the death of him in
the end, for when he went to the house of Jove’s son, mighty Hercules,
who performed such prodigies of valour, Hercules to his shame killed
him, though he was his guest, for he feared not heaven’s vengeance,
nor yet respected his own table which he had set before Iphitus, but
killed him in spite of everything, and kept the mares himself. It
was when claiming these that Iphitus met Ulysses, and gave him the bow
which mighty Eurytus had been used to carry, and which on his death
had been left by him to his son. Ulysses gave him in return a sword
and a spear, and this was the beginning of a fast friendship, although
they never visited at one another’s houses, for Jove’s son Hercules
killed Iphitus ere they could do so. This bow, then, given him by
Iphitus, had not been taken with him by Ulysses when he sailed for
Troy; he had used it so long as he had been at home, but had left it
behind as having been a keepsake from a valued friend.
  Penelope presently reached the oak threshold of the store room;
the carpenter had planed this duly, and had drawn a line on it so as
to get it quite straight; he had then set the door posts into it and
hung the doors. She loosed the strap from the handle of the door,
put in the key, and drove it straight home to shoot back the bolts
that held the doors; these flew open with a noise like a bull
bellowing in a meadow, and Penelope stepped upon the raised
platform, where the chests stood in which the fair linen and clothes
were laid by along with fragrant herbs: reaching thence, she took down
the bow with its bow case from the peg on which it hung. She sat
down with it on her knees, weeping bitterly as she took the bow out of
its case, and when her tears had relieved her, she went to the
cloister where the suitors were, carrying the bow and the quiver, with
the many deadly arrows that were inside it. Along with her came her
maidens, bearing a chest that contained much iron and bronze which her
husband had won as prizes. When she reached the suitors, she stood
by one of the bearing-posts supporting the roof of the cloister,
holding a veil before her face, and with a maid on either side of her.
Then she said:
  “Listen to me you suitors, who persist in abusing the hospitality of
this house because its owner has been long absent, and without other
pretext than that you want to marry me; this, then, being the prize
that you are contending for, I will bring out the mighty bow of
Ulysses, and whomsoever of you shall string it most easily and send
his arrow through each one of twelve axes, him will I follow and
quit this house of my lawful husband, so goodly, and so abounding in
wealth. But even so I doubt not that I shall remember it in my
dreams.”
  As she spoke, she told Eumaeus to set the bow and the pieces of iron
before the suitors, and Eumaeus wept as he took them to do as she
had bidden him. Hard by, the stockman wept also when he saw his
master’s bow, but Antinous scolded them. “You country louts,” said he,
“silly simpletons; why should you add to the sorrows of your
mistress by crying in this way? She has enough to grieve her in the
loss of her husband; sit still, therefore, and eat your dinners in
silence, or go outside if you want to cry, and leave the bow behind
you. We suitors shall have to contend for it with might and main,
for we shall find it no light matter to string such a bow as this
is. There is not a man of us all who is such another as Ulysses; for I
have seen him and remember him, though I was then only a child.”
  This was what he said, but all the time he was expecting to be
able to string the bow and shoot through the iron, whereas in fact
he was to be the first that should taste of the arrows from the
hands of Ulysses, whom he was dishonouring in his own house—egging
the others on to do so also.
  Then Telemachus spoke. “Great heavens!” he exclaimed, “Jove must
have robbed me of my senses. Here is my dear and excellent mother
saying she will quit this house and marry again, yet I am laughing and
enjoying myself as though there were nothing happening. But,
suitors, as the contest has been agreed upon, let it go forward. It is
for a woman whose peer is not to be found in Pylos, Argos, or
Mycene, nor yet in Ithaca nor on the mainland. You know this as well
as I do; what need have I to speak in praise of my mother? Come on,
then, make no excuses for delay, but let us see whether you can string
the bow or no. I too will make trial of it, for if I can string it and
shoot through the iron, I shall not suffer my mother to quit this
house with a stranger, not if I can win the prizes which my father won
before me.”
  As he spoke he sprang from his seat, threw his crimson cloak from
him, and took his sword from his shoulder. First he set the axes in
a row, in a long groove which he had dug for them, and had Wade
straight by line. Then he stamped the earth tight round them, and
everyone was surprised when they saw him set up so orderly, though
he had never seen anything of the kind before. This done, he went on
to the pavement to make trial of the bow; thrice did he tug at it,
trying with all his might to draw the string, and thrice he had to
leave off, though he had hoped to string the bow and shoot through the
iron. He was trying for the fourth time, and would have strung it
had not Ulysses made a sign to check him in spite of all his
eagerness. So he said:
  “Alas! I shall either be always feeble and of no prowess, or I am
too young, and have not yet reached my full strength so as to be
able to hold my own if any one attacks me. You others, therefore,
who are stronger than I, make trial of the bow and get this contest
settled.”
  On this he put the bow down, letting it lean against the door
[that led into the house] with the arrow standing against the top of
the bow. Then he sat down on the seat from which he had risen, and
Antinous said:
  “Come on each of you in his turn, going towards the right from the
place at which the. cupbearer begins when he is handing round the
wine.”
  The rest agreed, and Leiodes son of OEnops was the first to rise. He
was sacrificial priest to the suitors, and sat in the corner near
the mixing-bowl. He was the only man who hated their evil deeds and
was indignant with the others. He was now the first to take the bow
and arrow, so he went on to the pavement to make his trial, but he
could not string the bow, for his hands were weak and unused to hard
work, they therefore soon grew tired, and he said to the suitors,
“My friends, I cannot string it; let another have it; this bow shall
take the life and soul out of many a chief among us, for it is
better to die than to live after having missed the prize that we
have so long striven for, and which has brought us so long together.
Some one of us is even now hoping and praying that he may marry
Penelope, but when he has seen this bow and tried it, let him woo
and make bridal offerings to some other woman, and let Penelope
marry whoever makes her the best offer and whose lot it is to win
her.”
  On this he put the bow down, letting it lean against the door,
with the arrow standing against the tip of the bow. Then he took his
seat again on the seat from which he had risen; and Antinous rebuked
him saying:
  “Leiodes, what are you talking about? Your words are monstrous and
intolerable; it makes me angry to listen to you. Shall, then, this bow
take the life of many a chief among us, merely because you cannot bend
it yourself? True, you were not born to be an archer, but there are
others who will soon string it.”
  Then he said to Melanthius the goatherd, “Look sharp, light a fire
in the court, and set a seat hard by with a sheep skin on it; bring us
also a large ball of lard, from what they have in the house. Let us
warm the bow and grease it we will then make trial of it again, and
bring the contest to an end.”
  Melanthius lit the fire, and set a seat covered with sheep skins
beside it. He also brought a great ball of lard from what they had
in the house, and the suitors warmed the bow and again made trial of
it, but they were none of them nearly strong enough to string it.
Nevertheless there still remained Antinous and Eurymachus, who were
the ringleaders among the suitors and much the foremost among them
all.
  Then the swineherd and the stockman left the cloisters together, and
Ulysses followed them. When they had got outside the gates and the
outer yard, Ulysses said to them quietly:
  “Stockman, and you swineherd, I have something in my mind which I am
in doubt whether to say or no; but I think I will say it. What
manner of men would you be to stand by Ulysses, if some god should
bring him back here all of a sudden? Say which you are disposed to do-
to side with the suitors, or with Ulysses?”
  “Father Jove,” answered the stockman, “would indeed that you might
so ordain it. If some god were but to bring Ulysses back, you should
see with what might and main I would fight for him.”
  In like words Eumaeus prayed to all the gods that Ulysses might
return; when, therefore, he saw for certain what mind they were of,
Ulysses said, “It is I, Ulysses, who am here. I have suffered much,
but at last, in the twentieth year, I am come back to my own
country. I find that you two alone of all my servants are glad that
I should do so, for I have not heard any of the others praying for
my return. To you two, therefore, will I unfold the truth as it
shall be. If heaven shall deliver the suitors into my hands, I will
find wives for both of you, will give you house and holding close to
my own, and you shall be to me as though you were brothers and friends
of Telemachus. I will now give you convincing proofs that you may know
me and be assured. See, here is the scar from the boar’s tooth that
ripped me when I was out hunting on Mount Parnassus with the sons of
Autolycus.”
  As he spoke he drew his rags aside from the great scar, and when
they had examined it thoroughly, they both of them wept about Ulysses,
threw their arms round him and kissed his head and shoulders, while
Ulysses kissed their hands and faces in return. The sun would have
gone down upon their mourning if Ulysses had not checked them and
said:
  “Cease your weeping, lest some one should come outside and see us,
and tell those who a are within. When you go in, do so separately, not
both together; I will go first, and do you follow afterwards; Let this
moreover be the token between us; the suitors will all of them try
to prevent me from getting hold of the bow and quiver; do you,
therefore, Eumaeus, place it in my hands when you are carrying it
about, and tell the women to close the doors of their apartment. If
they hear any groaning or uproar as of men fighting about the house,
they must not come out; they must keep quiet, and stay where they
are at their work. And I charge you, Philoetius, to make fast the
doors of the outer court, and to bind them securely at once.”
  When he had thus spoken, he went back to the house and took the seat
that he had left. Presently, his two servants followed him inside.
  At this moment the bow was in the hands of Eurymachus, who was
warming it by the fire, but even so he could not string it, and he was
greatly grieved. He heaved a deep sigh and said, “I grieve for
myself and for us all; I grieve that I shall have to forgo the
marriage, but I do not care nearly so much about this, for there are
plenty of other women in Ithaca and elsewhere; what I feel most is the
fact of our being so inferior to Ulysses in strength that we cannot
string his bow. This will disgrace us in the eyes of those who are yet
unborn.”
  “It shall not be so, Eurymachus,” said Antinous, “and you know it
yourself. To-day is the feast of Apollo throughout all the land; who
can string a bow on such a day as this? Put it on one side—as for the
axes they can stay where they are, for no one is likely to come to the
house and take them away: let the cupbearer go round with his cups,
that we may make our drink-offerings and drop this matter of the
bow; we will tell Melanthius to bring us in some goats to-morrow-
the best he has; we can then offer thigh bones to Apollo the mighty
archer, and again make trial of the bow, so as to bring the contest to
an end.”
  The rest approved his words, and thereon men servants poured water
over the hands of the guests, while pages filled the mixing-bowls with
wine and water and handed it round after giving every man his
drink-offering. Then, when they had made their offerings and had drunk
each as much as he desired, Ulysses craftily said:
  “Suitors of the illustrious queen, listen that I may speak even as I
am minded. I appeal more especially to Eurymachus, and to Antinous who
has just spoken with so much reason. Cease shooting for the present
and leave the matter to the gods, but in the morning let heaven give
victory to whom it will. For the moment, however, give me the bow that
I may prove the power of my hands among you all, and see whether I
still have as much strength as I used to have, or whether travel and
neglect have made an end of it.”
  This made them all very angry, for they feared he might string the
bow; Antinous therefore rebuked him fiercely saying, “Wretched
creature, you have not so much as a grain of sense in your whole body;
you ought to think yourself lucky in being allowed to dine unharmed
among your betters, without having any smaller portion served you than
we others have had, and in being allowed to hear our conversation.
No other beggar or stranger has been allowed to hear what we say among
ourselves; the wine must have been doing you a mischief, as it does
with all those drink immoderately. It was wine that inflamed the
Centaur Eurytion when he was staying with Peirithous among the
Lapithae. When the wine had got into his head he went mad and did
ill deeds about the house of Peirithous; this angered the heroes who
were there assembled, so they rushed at him and cut off his ears and
nostrils; then they dragged him through the doorway out of the
house, so he went away crazed, and bore the burden of his crime,
bereft of understanding. Henceforth, therefore, there was war
between mankind and the centaurs, but he brought it upon himself
through his own drunkenness. In like manner I can tell you that it
will go hardly with you if you string the bow: you will find no
mercy from any one here, for we shall at once ship you off to king
Echetus, who kills every one that comes near him: you will never get
away alive, so drink and keep quiet without getting into a quarrel
with men younger than yourself.”
  Penelope then spoke to him. “Antinous,” said she, “it is not right
that you should ill-treat any guest of Telemachus who comes to this
house. If the stranger should prove strong enough to string the mighty
bow of Ulysses, can you suppose that he would take me home with him
and make me his wife? Even the man hi
THE PROLOGUE.

The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood,
Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,                        furious
That like an aspen leaf he quoke* for ire:             quaked, trembled
"Lordings," quoth he, "but one thing I desire;
I you beseech, that of your courtesy,
Since ye have heard this false Friar lie,
As suffer me I may my tale tell
This Friar boasteth that he knoweth hell,
And, God it wot, that is but little wonder,
Friars and fiends be but little asunder.
For, pardie, ye have often time heard tell,
How that a friar ravish'd was to hell
In spirit ones by a visioun,
And, as an angel led him up and down,
To shew him all the paines that there were,
In all the place saw he not a frere;
Of other folk he saw enough in woe.
Unto the angel spake the friar tho;
                               then
'Now, Sir,' quoth he, 'have friars such a grace,
That none of them shall come into this place?'
'Yes' quoth the angel; 'many a millioun:'
And unto Satanas he led him down.
'And now hath Satanas,' said he, 'a tail
Broader than of a carrack is the sail.
Hold up thy tail, thou Satanas,' quoth he,
'Shew forth thine erse, and let the friar see
Where is the nest of friars in this place.'
And *less than half a furlong way of space
            immediately
Right so as bees swarmen out of a hive,
Out of the devil's erse there gan to drive
A twenty thousand friars on a rout.                       in a crowd
And throughout hell they swarmed all about,
And came again, as fast as they may gon,
And in his erse they creeped every one:
He clapt his tail again, and lay full still.
This friar, when he looked had his fill
Upon the torments of that sorry place,
His spirit God restored of his grace
Into his body again, and he awoke;
But natheless for feare yet he quoke,
So was the devil's erse aye in his mind;
That is his heritage, of very kind                by his very nature
God save you alle, save this cursed Frere;
My prologue will I end in this mannere.

Notes to the Prologue to the Sompnour's Tale

1. Carrack: A great ship of burden used by the Portuguese; the
name is from the Italian, "cargare," to load

2. In less than half a furlong way of space: immediately;
literally, in less time than it takes to walk half a furlong (110
yards).

THE TALE.

Lordings, there is in Yorkshire, as I guess,
A marshy country called Holderness,
In which there went a limitour about
To preach, and eke to beg, it is no doubt.
And so befell that on a day this frere
Had preached at a church in his mannere,
And specially, above every thing,
Excited he the people in his preaching
To trentals,  and to give, for Godde's sake,
Wherewith men mighte holy houses make,
There as divine service is honour'd,
Not there as it is wasted and devour'd,
Nor where it needeth not for to be given,
As to possessioners,  that may liven,
Thanked be God, in wealth and abundance.
"Trentals," said he, "deliver from penance
Their friendes' soules, as well old as young,
Yea, when that they be hastily y-sung, --
Not for to hold a priest jolly and gay,
He singeth not but one mass in a day.
"Deliver out," quoth he, "anon the souls.
Full hard it is, with flesh-hook or with owls                     *awls
To be y-clawed, or to burn or bake:
Now speed you hastily, for Christe's sake."
And when this friar had said all his intent,
With qui *** patre forth his way he went,
When folk in church had giv'n him what them lest;
              pleased
He went his way, no longer would he rest,
With scrip and tipped staff, *y-tucked high:
      with his robe tucked
In every house he gan to pore
and pry,                   up high* peer
And begged meal and cheese, or elles corn.
His fellow had a staff tipped with horn,
A pair of tables
all of ivory,                         writing tablets
And a pointel
y-polish'd fetisly,                  pencil *daintily
And wrote alway the names, as he stood;
Of all the folk that gave them any good,
Askaunce* that he woulde for them pray.                    see note
"Give us a bushel wheat, or malt, or rey,
                          rye
A Godde's kichel,
or a trip
of cheese,        little cake scrap
Or elles what you list, we may not chese;
                       choose
A Godde's halfpenny,  or a mass penny;
Or give us of your brawn, if ye have any;
A dagon
of your blanket, leve dame,                            remnant
Our sister dear, -- lo, here I write your name,--
Bacon or beef, or such thing as ye find."
A sturdy harlot
went them aye behind,                   manservant
That was their hoste's man, and bare a sack,
And what men gave them, laid it on his back
And when that he was out at door, anon
He *planed away
the names every one,                       rubbed out
That he before had written in his tables:
He served them with nifles* and with fables. --             silly tales

"Nay, there thou liest, thou Sompnour," quoth the Frere.
"Peace," quoth our Host, "for Christe's mother dear;
Tell forth thy tale, and spare it not at all."
"So thrive I," quoth this Sompnour, "so I shall." --

So long he went from house to house, till he
Came to a house, where he was wont to be
Refreshed more than in a hundred places
Sick lay the husband man, whose that the place is,
Bed-rid upon a couche low he lay:
"Deus hic,"* quoth he; "O Thomas friend, good day,"       God be here
Said this friar, all courteously and soft.
"Thomas," quoth he, "God yield it you, full oft       reward you for
Have I upon this bench fared full well,
Here have I eaten many a merry meal."
And from the bench he drove away the cat,
And laid adown his potent* and his hat,                       staff
And eke his scrip, and sat himself adown:
His fellow was y-walked into town
Forth with his knave,
into that hostelry                       servant
Where as he shope
him that night to lie.              shaped, purposed

"O deare master," quoth this sicke man,
"How have ye fared since that March began?
I saw you not this fortenight and more."
"God wot," quoth he, "labour'd have I full sore;
And specially for thy salvation
Have I said many a precious orison,
And for mine other friendes, God them bless.
I have this day been at your church at mess,
                      mass
And said sermon after my simple wit,
Not all after the text of Holy Writ;
For it is hard to you, as I suppose,
And therefore will I teach you aye the glose.
           gloss, comment
Glosing is a full glorious thing certain,
For letter slayeth, as we clerkes
sayn.                       scholars
There have I taught them to be charitable,
And spend their good where it is reasonable.
And there I saw our dame; where is she?"
"Yonder I trow that in the yard she be,"
Saide this man; "and she will come anon."
"Hey master, welcome be ye by Saint John,"
Saide this wife; "how fare ye heartily?"

This friar riseth up full courteously,
And her embraceth *in his armes narrow,
                        closely
And kiss'th her sweet, and chirketh as a sparrow
With his lippes: "Dame," quoth he, "right well,
As he that is your servant every deal.
                            whit
Thanked be God, that gave you soul and life,
Yet saw I not this day so fair a wife
In all the churche, God so save me,"
"Yea, God amend defaultes, Sir," quoth she;
"Algates
welcome be ye, by my fay."                             always
"Grand mercy, Dame; that have I found alway.
But of your greate goodness, by your leave,
I woulde pray you that ye not you grieve,
I will with Thomas speak *a little throw:
              a little while
These curates be so negligent and slow
To ***** tenderly a conscience.
In shrift* and preaching is my diligence                     confession
And study in Peter's wordes and in Paul's;
I walk and fishe Christian menne's souls,
To yield our Lord Jesus his proper rent;
To spread his word is alle mine intent."
"Now by your faith, O deare Sir," quoth she,
"Chide him right well, for sainte charity.
He is aye angry as is a pismire,
                                   ant
Though that he have all that he can desire,
Though I him wrie
at night, and make him warm,                   cover
And ov'r him lay my leg and eke mine arm,
He groaneth as our boar that lies in sty:
Other disport of him right none have I,
I may not please him in no manner case."
"O Thomas, *je vous dis,
Thomas, Thomas,                   I tell you
This maketh the fiend, this must be amended.     is the devil's work
Ire is a thing that high God hath defended,                  forbidden
And thereof will I speak a word or two."
"Now, master," quoth the wife, "ere that I go,
What will ye dine? I will go thereabout."
"Now, Dame," quoth he, "je vous dis sans doute,
Had I not of a capon but the liver,
And of your white bread not but a shiver,                   *thin slice
And after that a roasted pigge's head,
(But I would that for me no beast were dead,)
Then had I with you homely suffisance.
I am a man of little sustenance.
My spirit hath its fost'ring in the Bible.
My body is aye so ready and penible
                        painstaking
To wake,
that my stomach is destroy'd.                           watch
I pray you, Dame, that ye be not annoy'd,
Though I so friendly you my counsel shew;
By God, I would have told it but to few."
"Now, Sir," quoth she, "but one word ere I go;
My child is dead within these weeke's two,
Soon after that ye went out of this town."

"His death saw I by revelatioun,"
Said this friar, "at home in our dortour.
               dormitory
I dare well say, that less than half an hour
Mter his death, I saw him borne to bliss
In mine vision, so God me wiss.
                                 direct
So did our sexton, and our fermerere,
                 infirmary-keeper
That have been true friars fifty year, --
They may now, God be thanked of his love,
Make their jubilee, and walk above.
And up I rose, and all our convent eke,
With many a teare trilling on my cheek,
Withoute noise or clattering of bells,
Te Deum was our song, and nothing else,
Save that to Christ I bade an orison,
Thanking him of my revelation.
For, Sir and Dame, truste me right well,
Our orisons be more effectuel,
And more we see of Christe's secret things,
Than *borel folk,
although that they be kings.             laymen
We live in povert', and in abstinence,
And borel folk in riches and dispence
Of meat and drink, and in their foul delight.
We have this worlde's lust* all in despight
      * pleasure *contempt
Lazar and Dives lived diversely,
And diverse guerdon
hadde they thereby.                         reward
Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean,
And fat his soul, and keep his body lean
We fare as saith th' apostle; cloth
and food                  clothing
Suffice us, although they be not full good.
The cleanness and the fasting of us freres
Maketh that Christ accepteth our prayeres.
Lo, Moses forty days and forty night
Fasted, ere that the high God full of might
Spake with him in the mountain of Sinai:
With empty womb
of fasting many a day                          stomach
Received he the lawe, that was writ
With Godde's finger; and Eli, well ye wit,
                    know
In Mount Horeb, ere he had any speech
With highe God, that is our live's leech,
            *physician, healer
He fasted long, and was in contemplance.
Aaron, that had the temple in governance,
And eke the other priestes every one,
Into the temple when they shoulde gon
To praye for the people, and do service,
They woulde drinken in no manner wise
No drinke, which that might them drunken make,
But t
Aoife Mairéad Feb 2012
17
When we were seventeen
you plotted and planed your death
"21 year old racer dies on the German Autobahn"
You planned to break the speed limit
with your recklessness
in the fastest Ferrari
or a black BMW, perhaps.
Looking back,
we'll laugh at the thought.
There are no speed limits
on Autobahns.
For Byrne
Zach Gomes Feb 2010
A tattered bird had a made a tomb
in tepid water, it was a puddle
near the framework of a half-built room—
but the soul’s a swerving tunnel

and the dead are waiting at the end:
all sorts of animals huddled at the fringe
where littered pine needles stand
and creep inside the sandy construction site,

pale in the morning light,
the tractors dug aesthetic swirls in the sand—
a culvert keeps the brook alive,
it flows into the forest, which learns to mend

its scars with the festering of its things:
kingfishers’ **** on the berries and branches,
if the plants could undo their own stink
the heart wouldn’t die on its haunches—

the morning’s dew resolves to hoary ice,
its killing the greenery,
but the sandblasters lean, arranged by the outhouse, like
a dream, the first worker arrives early

he rests against a smooth-planed board—
flood the mind, but be sure to drain it out,
its his breakfast cup of tea that stores
his knowledge of beauty

past the place where the bushes are thin
there is an apple orchard, plucked to pieces at the end of fall—
trees arranged in ranks, held up with wires and strings:
a dementia arboreal—

the smells from the orchard meet
the smells from the machines and hover
above the building-zone, mixing with the bite
of cold humidity—a cruel kind of vapor
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
These are couplets written by Donald Trump and limericks and other Donald Trump poems "care of" Michael R. Burch (please note that these are parodies) ...

Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of Michael R. Burch

To outfox the pox:
off yourself first, with Clorox!

And since death is the goal,
mainline Lysol!

No vaccine?
Just chug Mr. Clean!

Is a cure out of reach?
Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!

To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!

To immunize your bride,
drown her in Opti-cide!

To end all future gridlocks,
gargle with Vaprox!

Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!

Keywords/Tags: Donald Trump, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, humor, Clorox, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, mrbtrump, mrbcouplets



What REALLY Happened
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump lied and lied and lied.
Americans died and died and died.



Grime Wave
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump is ******* crime ...
unless it's his own grime.



Trump Love
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump "love" is truly a curious thing ...
does he care for our kids half as much as his bling?



Tangled Webs
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Oh, what tangled webs they weave
when Trump and his toupée seek to deceive!



No Star
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump, you're no "star."
Putin made you an American Czar.

Now, if we continue down this dark path you've chosen,
pretty soon we'll all be wearing lederhosen.



Raw Spewage (I)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump
is a chump
who talks through his ****;
he's a political sump pump!



Green Eggs and Spam
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

I do not like your racist ways!
I do not like your hate for gays!

I do not like your gaseous ****!
I do not like you, Crotch-Grabber Trump!

I do not like you here or there!
I do not like you anywhere!

Your brain's been trapped in a lifelong slump
And I do not like you, Hate-Baiter Trump!



Apologies to España
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

the reign
in Trump’s brain
falls mainly as mansplain



Stumped and Stomped by Trump
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a candidate, Trump,
whose message rang clear at the stump:
"Vote for me, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!,
because I am ME,
and everyone else is a chump!"



Humpty Trumpty
by Michael R. Burch

Humpty Trumpty called for a wall.
Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall.
Now all the Grand Wizards
and Faux PR men
Can never put Trumpty together again.



The Hair Flap
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

The hair flap was truly a scare:
Trump’s bald as a billiard back there!
The whole nation laughed
At the state of his graft;
Now the man’s wigging out, so beware!



Roses are red,
Daffodils are yellow,
But not half as daffy
As that taffy-colored fellow!
―Michael R. Burch



Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch



Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch



The Ex-Prez Sez

The prez should be above the law, he sez,
even though he’s no longer prez.
—Michael R. Burch



Quite Con-trary
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trumpy, Trumpy,
fat, balding and lumpy,
how does your Rose Garden grow?
“With venom and spleen
and everything mean,
and my gasket about to blow!”

Trumpy, Trumpy,
obese and dumpy,
why are your polls so low?
“I claimed I was Cyrus
at war with a virus
but lost every time to the minuscule foe!”



Piecemeal, a Coronavirus poem
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

And so it begins—the ending.
The narrowing veins, the soft tissues rending.
Your final solution is pending.
(Soon a portly & pale Piggy-Wiggy
will discount your death as "no biggie.")



Viral Donald (I)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump is coronaviral:
his brain's in a downward spiral.
That pale nimbus of hair
proves there's nothing up there
but an empty skull, fluff and denial.



Viral Donald (II)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Why didn't Herr Trump, the POTUS,
protect us from the Coronavirus?
That weird orange corona of hair's an alarm:
Trump is the Virus in Human Form!



Red State Reject
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

I once was a pessimist
but now I’m more optimistic,
ever since I discovered my fears
were unsupported by any statistic.



The Red State Reaction
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Where the hell are they hidin’
Sleepy Joe Biden?

And how the hell can the bleep
Do so much, IN HIS SLEEP?



The Final Episode of Celebrity Apprentice President
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald
said to The Donald,
"Just between us clowns, your polls are too low!"
So The Donald thought hard
then said to his pard,
"It's because I'm a martyr. The world must know!"
Thus Eric Trump jumped
from his obese Trump ****
to declare the virus a "hoax." (End of show.)



modern Midas
by michael r. burch

they say nothing human's alive
yet the Hermit survived:

the last of His kind,
clean out of His mind.

they say He relentlessly washes His fingers,
as dainty as ever, yet the smell of death lingers.

they say it sets off His corona of hair
when He blanches with fear in his Mansion Faire.

they say He still spritzes each strand into place
though there’s no one to see in that hellish place.

they say there’s a moral in what He’s become
as He fondles gold trinkets and cradles His john.



Mother of Cowards
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

So unlike the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land,
Spread-eagled, showering gold, a strumpet stands:
A much-used trollop with a torch, whose flame
Has long since been extinguished. And her name?
"Mother of Cowards!" From her enervate hand
Soft ash descends. Her furtive eyes demand
Allegiance to her ****'s repulsive game.

"Keep, ancient lands, your wretched poor!" cries she
With scarlet lips. "Give me your hale, your whole,
Your huddled tycoons, yearning to be pleased!
The wretched refuse of your toilet hole?
Oh, never send one unwashed child to me!
I await Trump's pleasure by the gilded bowl!"




Toupée or Not Toupée, That is the Question
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There once was a brash billionaire
who couldn't afford decent hair.
Vexed voters agreed:
"We're a nation in need!"
But toupée the price, do we dare?



Toupée or Not Toupée, This is the Answer
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Oh crap, we elected Trump prez!
Now he's Simon: we must do what he sez!
For if anyone thinks
And says his "plan" stinks,
He'll wig out 'neath that weird orange fez!



White as a Sheet
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump had a real Twitter Scare
then rushed off to fret, vent and share:
“How dare Bernie quote
what I just said and wrote?
Like Megyn he’s mean, cruel, unfair!”



Raw Spewage (II)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump
is a chump
who talks through his ****;
he's a garbage dump
in need of a sump pump!



we did not Dye in vain!
by Michael R. Burch

from “songs of the sea snails”

though i’m just a slimy crawler,
my lineage is proud:
my forebears gave their lives
(oh, let the trumps blare loud!)
so purple-mantled Royals
might stand out in a crowd.

i salute you, fellow loyals,
who labor without scruple
as your incomes fall
while deficits quadruple
to swaddle unjust Lords
in bright imperial purple!

Notes: In ancient times the purple dye produced from the secretions of purpura mollusks (sea snails) was known as “Tyrian purple,” “royal purple” and “imperial purple.” It was greatly prized in antiquity, and was very expensive according to the historian Theopompus: “Purple for dyes fetched its weight in silver at Colophon.” Thus, purple-dyed fabrics became status symbols, and laws often prevented commoners from possessing them. The production of Tyrian purple was tightly controlled in Byzantium, where the imperial court restricted its use to the coloring of imperial silks. A child born to the reigning emperor was literally porphyrogenitos ("born to the purple") because the imperial birthing apartment was walled in porphyry, a purple-hued rock, and draped with purple silks. Royal babies were swaddled in purple; we know this because the iconodules, who disagreed with the emperor Constantine about the veneration of images, accused him of defecating on his imperial purple swaddling clothes!



Twinkle Wrinkles
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Twinkle, twinkle, little "star" ...
Trump, how we wished you blazed                 afar!

Twinkle, twinkle, Groper-Cupid ...
How we've wished you weren't so stupid!

Twinkle, twinkle, Man-Baby "president" ...
In truth you're just the White House resident.



Americans have the opportunity
to greatly improve their community
with votes a-plenty
in 2020.
Dump
Trump!
—Michael R. Burch



Joe Biden, Joe Biden,
our future is ridin’
on you defeatin’
and hidin’
that cancerous lump
called Trump.
—Michael R. Burch



The Perfect Storm
by Michael R. Burch

Stormy Daniels
is Trump's worst nightmare—
a truthteller,
a woman without fear,
full of *****,
unimpressed by his junk,
that he can't debunk.



Aftermath
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Carmen Yulín Cruz is a hero.
Donald Trump is a zero.



15 Seconds
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Our president’s *** life—atrocious!
His "briefings"—bizarre hocus-pocus!
Politics—a shell game!
My brief moment of fame
flashed by before Oprah could notice!



March for Our Lives
by Michael R. Burch

It's not a moment,
it's a MOVEMENT
created to save
innocents from the grave.



Tweety and Pootie
sittin' in a tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
First comes love,
second comes marriage,
third barechested weasels in a White House carriage!
—Michael R. Burch



Three Trump Valentine's Day Poems

1.

If you're tall, blonde and pretty,
I'll grab your kitty.
If you're dark-skinned and short,
It's time to deport!

2.

I'll secure your southern border tonight,
as long as you're wearing white!

3.

If you're not
as hot
as my daughter,
beware;
prepare
for the slaughter!



Why did Trump endorse Roy "Score" Moore when Nostradumbass claimed he "knew" the Sludge Judge couldn't win? ...

Predators of a feather
flock together.
—Michael R. Burch



Kneeling Verboten
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Colin Kaepernick took a stand by kneeling;
now Donald Trump is reeling
as the NFL owners he implored
lock hands with the players he deplored.



How the Fourth ***** Ramped Up
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump prepped his pale Deplorables:
"You're easy marks and scorables!
Now when I bray
click your heels, obey,
and I'll soon promote you to Horribles!"



Trump Trumps "We The People"
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump fired Comey
to appoint a *****:
some pawn in his Kamp
with a big rubber stamp.

Out the window flew freedom!
Rights? You don't need 'em!
Like Attilâ the ***,
Trump answers to no one!

Do you think you have worth?
Trump makes you his serf.
He's your Lord and your Master:
you elected DISASTER.



Pass the Hat for the Fat Cat
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

If you're a Fat Cat,
vote for an Autocrat;
otherwise, stick with a Democrat ...
or get ready to pass the hat
for yourself,
doomed by that strange little pixie-fingered orange elf.



****** Assaulter-in-Chief
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald Trump Bozo
bopped Bill Clinton Clown on the nose: “Oh,
I’ll trump your cigar
with my groping, by far,
when I bounce interns on my Big Pogo!”



Trump's Donor Song
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

(lines written after it became apparent that Trump is not
"draining the swamp" but stocking it with his crocodilian
donors and political piranha)

christmas is coming, the Trumpster's purse is flat:
please put a Billion in the Fat Cat's hat!
if you haven't got a Billion, a Hundred Mil will do.
if you haven't got a Hundred Mil, the yoke's on you!



Alt-Right White Christmas
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump's dreaming of a White Christmas,
just like the ones he used to know
when black renters groveled
or lived in hovels
while he laughed and shouted **-**-**!



*******
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump
Is a chump,
He’s an
Orange Heffalump.
His hair?
Made of batter.
His brain?
***** matter.
His “plans”?
A disaster.
His “position”?
Your Master!



Fool's Gold
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

THE DONALD has won (so we're told).
If it's true, worthless swampland's been sold!
But who were the buyers?
Poor folks who trust liars
and pay through the nose for fool's gold.



Bunko
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Agent Orange is full of bunk:
Tiny-fingered, he claims a big "trunk."
And his "platform"? Oh my,
I think we'd all die!
And he can't even claim he was drunk!

NOTE: Donald Trump claims that he doesn't drink alcohol, except when he partakes of Holy Communion. However, Trump insulted the body and blood of Jesus Christ when he spoke dismissively of his "little *******" and "little wine." He claims to be a Christian, but also said that he never asks God for forgiveness! Is he punch drunk or just pulling our legs about being a Christian?



De-Bunko
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There's something I'd like to debunk:
the GOP's not in a "funk."
The Donald, by choice,
is its unfiltered voice.
Vote for someone who's sane, or we're sunk!



Fooling Around
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald Trump-Bozo
cried, “Clinton Clown cheats with his yo-yo!
He plays fast and loose!
It’s clearly abuse!
Whereas broads love to bounce on my pogo!”

BTW, it's amusing that Rudy Giuliani is now Trump's surrogate, defending him from accusations of ****** assault and other improprieties by scores of women, when in a 2000 "Mayor's Inner Circle" video, Giuliani in drag had his "*******" schmoozed by The Donald, after which Giuliani slapped his face and called him a "***** boy." Obviously, Giuliani was well aware of Trump's reputation for grabbing and groping women without bothering to ask for their permission! Trump's outrageous behavior was a running joke among alpha males in his circle. In 1993, fellow bad boy Howard Stern asked Trump directly: “So you treat women with respect?” Trump answered honestly: “No, I can’t say that either.” And hundreds of chauvinistic public statements and tweets by Trump confirm that he doesn't treat women with respect, or minorities, or anyone that he considers "weak" or "overweight" or "unattractive."



Trumping Tots
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Things that go bump in the night
fill Herr Trump with irrational fright;
his brain hits the skids;
he shrieks, "Ban dark kids!"
Where's his self-lauded "courage" and "might"?
Is cowardice Trump's kryptonite?



Trump Explains Why His Hair Looks Like ****: It's Been Bleached By Drool
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

"Although my hands are quite tiny,
I have an enormous hiney;
so I stick my head in,
predicting I’ll win,
while everyone kisses it shiny!"



The Name and Blame Game
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

If you have a slightly offbeat name,
you'll be de-planed, detained, restrained, defamed.
Supremacists know pure white names are best,
so be prepared to prove you're among the Blessed.
(Woe unto those who fail Trump's Litmus Test!)



Trump the Game Plan
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There once was a huckster named Trump
who liked to be kissed on the ****.
He promised awed voters
if they'd be his promoters,
he'd magically fix up their dump.

Now the voters were dreaming of Ronald
and hoping they'd found him in Donald.
And so, lightly "thinking"
after much heavy drinking,
they put out, as if they'd been fondled.

But once he'd secured the election
Trump found his fans cause for dejection.
"I only love tens!"
he complained to his "friends,"
then deported them: black, white and Mexican.

Thus Donald fulfilled his sworn duties
by ridding the land of non-cuties.
Once the plain Janes were gone
he could smile on his throne
surrounded by imported beauties!



Egad,
what a cad;
the Orange Heffalump
scowls when he sees
a baby bump!
Like the Grinch who stole Christmas
(but every day of the year),
The Donald eyes happy
mothers with a leer!
―Michael R. Burch

NOTE: Donald Trump actually body-shamed Kim Kardashian for having a baby bump, saying that she was "large" and ought to watch the kind of clothes she wears in public!



Donald Trump Campaign Songs

Christmas is coming!
Tycoons are getting fat!
TRUMP says, "Take a ****
in some beggar's hat!
Beat him to a pulp
then run him out of town
if he dares object to
the MAN with the GOLDEN CROWN.
And if you're not a Christian,
nothing else will do!
But if you're just like TRUMP,
then may TRUMP bless you!
―Michael R. Burch



SANTA CLAWS is coming to town!
He sees Spics when they're sleeping
and Blacks when they're awake!
He knows that Whites are always good,
but dark skin is God's mistake.
So if you're some poor orphan
with slightly darker skin,
BIG BROTHER will be WATCHING
all blacks and Mexicans!
―Michael R. Burch



Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch



Dark Shroud, Silver Lining
by Michael R. Burch

Trump cares so little for the silly pests
who rise to swarm his rallies that he jests:
“The silver lining of this dark corona
is that I’m not obliged to touch the fauna!”



Zip It
by Michael R. Burch

Trump pulled a cute stunt,
wore his pants back-to-front,
and now he’s the **** of bald jokes:
“Is he coming, or going?”
“Eeek! His diaper is showing!”
But it’s all much ado, says Snopes.



Mini-Ode to a Quickly Shrinking American Icon
by Michael R. Burch

Rudy, Rudy,
strange and colludy,
how does your pardon grow?
“With demons like hell’s
and progress like snails’
and criminals all in a row!”



Christmas is Coming
alternate lyrics by Michael R. Burch

Christmas is coming; Trump’s goose is getting plucked.
Please put the Ukraine in his pocketbook.
If you haven’t got the Ukraine, some bartered Kurds will do.
But if you’re short on blackmail, well, the yoke’s on you!

Christmas is coming and Rudy can’t make bail.
Please send LARGE donations, or the Cause may fail.
If you haven’t got a billion, five hundred mil will do.
But if you’re short on cash, the LASH will fall on you!

Keywords/Tags: Trump, Donald Trump, poems, epigrams, quotes, quotations, Rudy Giuliani, Ted Cruz, Cancun, Christmas, evil, democracy, coup, treason, treasonous, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, couplet, humor, humorous, Clorox, Lysol, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, America



In My House
by Michael R. Burch

I was once the only caucasian in the software company I founded and managed. I had two fine young black programmers working for me, and they both had keys to my house. This poem looks back to the dark days of slavery and the Civil War it produced.

When you were in my house
you were not free—
in chains bound.

"Manifest Destiny?"

I was wrong;
my plantation burned to the ground.
I was wrong.

This is my song,
this is my plea:
I was wrong.

When you are in my house,
now, I am not free.

I feel the song
hurling itself back at me.

We were wrong.
This is my history.

I feel my tongue
stilting accordingly.

We were wrong;
brother, forgive me.

Published by Black Medina

Keywords/Tags: Race, Racism, Black Lives Matter, Equality, Brotherhood, Fraternity, Sisterhood, Tolerance, Acceptance, Civil Rights



Instruction
by Michael R. Burch

Toss this poem aside
to the filigreed and the prettified tide
of sunset.

Strike my name,
and still it is all the same.
The onset

of night is in the despairing skies;
each hut shuts its bright bewildered eyes.
The wind sighs

and my heart sighs with her—
my only companion, O Lovely Drifter!
Still, men are not wise.

The moon appears; the arms of the wind lift her,
pooling the light of her silver portent,
while men, impatient,

are beings of hurried and harried despair.
Now willows entangle their fragrant hair.
Men sleep.

Cornsilk tassels the moonbright air.
Deep is the sea; the stars are fair.
I reap.

Originally published by Romantics Quarterly


Published as the collection "Not-So-Heroic Couplets"
M G Hsieh Nov 2018
We looked at the stars
and the moon to navigate
within the time and spaces of our confines

I see the lunar ricepaddies give their soft glow
and well-lit veins tremble under thin tranquil clouds

Once, I had no home
Tossed in the waves of uncertainty and disbelief,

I looked to the stars and further
for patterns of usefulness
The bright lights were glaring

while the empty seas inside turned dark

I found no reflection.

A minute passes.

I’m miles ahead of where I used to be
Harley Hucof Aug 2014
in a strange land i stood alone
facing the sun it felt like home.
the mountains were watching me.
i was new i was the guest. how did i come here wasnt clear but its for the best.
somehow i knew the trees had a msg for me.
a msg so familiar that was always burried inside me.
And they said : young man standing in the plain you still have alot to gain. dont be afraid of the unknown for it is essential for ur growth.
trust your intuitions and believe
And all your talents shall be revieled
Be courageous and dont be shy for what life have planed for you aint a lie..
lose your fears and lose your greed and the secrets of life shall be whisperd in your ears.embrace silence and embrace peace and wisdom is what you
shall see.
we know what you think.
we know what you feel and thats one of the reasons we called you here.
in front of you we stand here an untouched forest existing for your relief.
Love me and love me again for im your mother and i ll never end.
im nature.
through me u breath. through me u eat
Never abandon me and i ll provide for you your needs.
i take so many forms im in so many places
love me and into your heart i shall be expanded.
Im done now u can go back and continue your life.
but dont forget rare are the ones who saw this place. always remember wht i said and search for signs traveling in time and happiness is what you shall find.
as the sound stopped i closed my eyes trying to embrace what i witnessed.
i felt im one with evrything. time has passed i opend my eyes.
I was in bed.
I knew this story shall be shared.

words of Harfouchism.
Favour Jan 2011
Nero was an Emperor
A very unkind one
He wanted everything as he planed

He decided to burn down a city
Which people really loved
Nero burnt down the city and got the blame
Was Nero going to be blamed forever?
NO!

He then accused the Christians
The innocent Christians did nothing wrong
But still got the blame

So Nero persuaded the people and them it was the Christians
Who caused the fire
But it wasn’t true

And then came the persecution of the Christians.
I don't know the real history of the story, this was based on what I was told.  
copyright 2011
Ken Pepiton Mar 2023
Genesis
****** and his cities,
Peleg the earthquake,

cities of crafts and exchange

waste disposal, chaos control
ordinal first to last sequence
father, physical strong, less curious
mother, fragile smaller, more observant.

Plural spiritual entities, Elohim, watchers,
applications of reason, reporting events.

Balance demonstrated with spinning
and flipping throwing things,
fitting thing piece to piece cunning spun
framing weaving
loose and taut, twanging
whistle, whine howl yells bells song

Eventual progress, time out of mind, slow
and steady,
patient, put down, put up, leaning, pushing
pulling, windwise rushing in, to fill the empty

Mind, imageless, no holds, no solidity,
all is spirit, no atoms even, perhaps, not even,
quarkish pairs of ups or downs that spin
on points in ever after solid state called
Heaven, the firmamental place where none was.

Higg's Field.
Unknown known matter and energy, we know.
We know something power enough to seem matter,
exists,
beyond our individuated mind's grasp.
Okeh.

Spread so as we may imagine, when itself began
with the initial edges, or edge, it would be, inside
any bubble-edge is inside,
they say outside is unimaginable

flat out planed point of anything
pounded thin as any bubble wall,
-blood-brain boundary, shocking discovery

yes, as with point spreads stretched to firm
mental plotted points of possible otherness,

ways one may be seen divided
duty-wise. Needful news.

Drink water from your own cistern,
save rain water for washing hair,
keep the spider in the spout,
to catch most matter washed
from the roof over our minds vidroning view

Googlized minds, in Disneyified Meta Cognosis,

we arrived at our destination,
and they have clouds of cotton candy.

- must be all vain, all is vanity, that's fair.
- Ecclesiastes, my old ****-rod-*****-point
pain on my backside,
such as Moses saw of Him whose name is as the Dao,
the name that may be said is not Ha Shem,
the side that may be seen is not His, you see, the hole,
not the whole,
and once that is filtered through, a certainly tangled web,
where in it seems,
Jews, in cultural roles granted, now, bat und bar mitzvah,
no veiled ****** similarities to the Handmaid's Tale.

No weeping over spilt milk,
never cry wolf.
Never speak of the devil, for … what speak we in,
when worshipping and praising and praying is supplicant
pose, supposed to induce holy awareness of mathematical me.

What might be the odds, set
taking all bets,
in spirit and in truth, as held in the wedom we acknowledge,
you and me, we agree, we become maker of this bubbling state,

we boil the cauldron, wear the caul of the first born-
we take the fat from the caul of the liver, and offer the smell,
to the unspeakably named reality we make believers build
in times of plenty, we make beautiful things together,

we call dreams retellings, but the tellings flow from deeper wells.

We are more ant-ish than sheepish,
we are more horse-ish than wolfish, in the wild.
We are more dog-ish than cat-ish, in civilized spaces.

Nurture native natal ground boundary of any wedom,
go beyond,
in quest of all we failed to grasp, the wind we fit to words,
and hold the gathered sheaves , in fists,
this is it,
why one how come to become. We be. Alwise, always willing

to envision further than we think men by right may see,
the tree the fruit was forbidden from,
bade the birds imbibe, and the elephants and monkey's too,

certainly, imagine, the plan got out of hand, it was
mandatory
in the garden walled off speck of life,
pre concepts weyeken called cells.

E= okay, rebalance all you respond with

who says what C equals, at my scale, in a mind,
in or out of the body, I can not say, significantly
different from saying, I can't say,

see, set, mindtimespace, spacetimemind, point. A.
Daily bread, liquidity.
This generation is like the new age,
And it's mostly with the teenage.
With computers in our pockets,
Burning our brains like the fuel on rockets.
What is our world becoming?
What is planed for the upcoming?
Will there be flying cars?
Or will there be life on Mars?
What will happen to man kind?
For one day, we will be left behind.
this poem is here because my friend dared me to write a poem as quick as a could
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2014
for M*

never been good at it,
picking jobs, careers, wives,
was not one to
outline the steps,
to goals I could not
speak or define

so I bumped this way and that,
knocked down, dusted off, and
meandering, restarted and may,
unexpectedly,
have to do it
once again

once grooved,
let myself be fooled
by myself,
the best ole fooler I trusted,
that my track,
breeze to the back
was bumble free, straight,
planed and planned
and though accidentally,
what the heck

of course it never is...

you could write it all down,
the before, the softer,
the after, the harsher,
and the middle muddle
of visions hazy,
when you are too lazy
to engage

and to those of you
who see it clear,
on yellow pads and blue lines,
write down step one and two,
god bless you

Know though

there is no such thing
as free and easy
from the curves
that come up fast,
so fast that they
strangle you
near to death
or even past it

you can't imagine it,
I know, you can't,
and those who can,
likely no longer need to imagine it

but when you dare do,
clench eyes and make that ugliest rare bird
come to front and foremost
come to mind, you make it
fly to disappear,
to rarefied air,
where it,
you beg stay

and you do some good,
stupidly think you've collected
celestial brownie points that will
preserve and protect,
but in a flash bang
they have expired
just before the when you
needed them most

so go about your business,
but make no mistake,
others are going about it too,
their surprises the kind that
long term planners call disruptive

sure be sensible,
have a nest egg, a will,
good neighbors if you can,
top off the liquids
that life requires to
make the machinery run silent

work hard, pay attention
to the subtle changes
in your environment,
even hurricanes have a season,
and may you have a
go-bag in a closet,
gas in the tank,
for those days that are the
inevitable
works-in-process

but the only long term plan
that will you true require,
the one thing that will
save your neck,
chance you a chance
to defeat the unforeseen,
is not of paper, steel,
or money green,
it is character

I won't define it. You know it,
You make and or destroy it.

every day set some aside,
climb into night bed,
and recall the empathy
granted and given,
and from that,
build your own storage unit
for it won't be a mere rainy day,
but hail and volcano that will
leave you questioning existence

justify why you daily breathe,
and then exhale,
and say,
I go on
for I am of worth

this is long term planning,
survivor's insurance

This the only way to survive,
the days of reckoning
that you cannot reckon,
the days of wreck and tumult

but if you possess
character,
you will go on

ok, ok
what is character?
why it is that exact moment
when overwhelmed by the tumult,
you acknowledge that nonetheless,
you have the what and the wherewithal
to make it better
for someone else.
Abraham Avalos Aug 2018
Endless laughs & smiles
That were shared together
With a feeling so profound
It always felt like summer weather
& a future planed to grow
On your exciting life adventure
**** It couldn't get no better
This feeling is too big to measure

Now you're consumed with butterflies
It sends shivers down your spine
U feel the warmth just taking over
Every time she passes by
Like a new world u have discovered
Loosing yourself within her eyes
Asking yourself if this is real
Or have u been dreaming this hole time
Cuz you've never visualized
A chemistry so divine
She becomes your one & only
A star placed right by your side
& her gourgous magnitude
Always lifting u up into the sky
Thankful life blessed u this way
The day paths had intertwined

Deep within a love
u get to know her story
Of how she once loved another
With a passion but then turned stormy
He left her on her own
Broken hearted & feeling lonely
That wasn't the outcome
She was expecting in this journey
Filled with blue emotion
Wondering where it all went wrong
& how the **** she lost his devotion
But with time she grew back strong
Gracefully flowing just like the ocean
Determined to move on
She found herself feeling unbroken
& so she carried on
That's when life brought u together
Instant attraction from the start
U both embarked a new endevour
Giving this feeling a fair shot

But now the time is rather worrying
U feel she's drifted off
Your future seems quite unclear
You're mind's consumed with fearfull thoughts
That this storm will never clear
& you'll both just grow apart

                                                      -Abraham Avalos
JC May 2013
She saw him in the hall
He glanced at her
She blushed and walked away

They thought nothing of it

She sat alone in class
He asked to sit next to her
She said 'yes'

He joked
She laughed
He complimented her
She smiled
The bell rang
He gave her his number
She grinned and left.

She texted him
He replied
They talked all night

He saw her the next day
He asked her on a date
She said 'yes'.

They went to a restaurant
They chatted
He messed about
She giggled
He told her she was beautiful
She blushed and thanked him
He walked her home
She smiled all the way

He kissed her goodbye

They talked for days
He fell for her
She fell for him
He asked her to be his girlfriend
She said 'yes'

He spent all his time with her
She felt like the luckiest ******* earth
He put his arm around her with pride

He met her family
They loved him
She met his
They loved her

Things started to get serious

He said 'I love you'
She said it back

They were happy

Rumours started to spread about him
He denied them
She wasn't sure
He said 'do you trust me?'
She said 'yes'

They were in love
They planed their lives with each other
They thought they'd be together forever

Over time she got worried she wasn't good enough
He said 'I love you and no one else, I promise'
She believed him

He had problems at home
She helped him
He broke down in front of her
She comforted him
He thanked her

Gradually, she got frustrated with him
They started to bicker and argue
She got angry
He yelled
She realised what she was doing
He stopped
She felt awful

She started to get worried that he was flirting with other girls
He said he wouldn't do that
She didn't believe him and continued to worry

She told him she had problems trusting people
He tried everything to make her better
She was embarrassed
He helped her
She was grateful

Other girls started to come between them
She got upset
He got angry
She asked him not to talk to them
He said 'anything for you'

Boys did the same
He got angry
He asked her to not talk to them
She said 'anything for you'

He thought nothing more of it

The rumours started again
This time he admitted what had happened
He explained
She cried
He told her he hadn't done anything wrong
She believed him
He apologised for not telling her sooner

More girls came between them
She told them all to back off
He got annoyed with her
He didn't understand

They argued more and more
She said things she didn't mean
He said things he didn't mean
They made up

They did that nearly every day

She found things he'd said to other girls
She was sick of it
He apologised over and over
She ended it in anger
He walked away

She realised what she'd done
She cried
He ignored her
She tried to get him back
He said 'no'
She broke down

He ignored her at school
He called her pathetic
She cried even more
His friends had a go at her
He started getting close to other girls
She was broken hearted

She tried to apologise to him
He wouldn't listen
He told her to stay out of his life

He thought nothing more of it

She called him names
He called her names
They both got upset

He pretended he didn't care
She tried not to care

He moved on
She still cared
He told her he didn't need her
She felt disposable

She was heart broken
She meant nothing to him
She started to hate herself for ever trusting him

He continued to call her names
She spiralled into depression
She stopped eating
She couldn't sleep
She cut herself
He didn't care

He thought nothing more of it

She tried to tell someone
He found out
He laughed at her
His friends called her pathetic

She couldn't tell her family
She couldn't tell her friends
She was alone

Over time, they became strangers

She started talking to an old friend
She told him how she felt
He comforted her
They got close
He came to see her
She was finally happy again

She moved on
He came back to her
He wanted her back
She told him she had someone else
He was hurt
She told him he should have realised earlier

They didn't speak again

Weeks later, she saw him in the hall
He glanced over
She held her head high, walked away
*And thought nothing more of it
First attempt at poetry (sorry it's long)
All I have left is her silver spoon
and in the corner her high chair
I wanted to watch her grow up
had all her schooling planed
but she upped and crawled away
all because I confessed that I was gay
she was too small to realise
that when I said that I meant happy
but it looks like now
that I won't be changing any nappies
no more goo goo gar gars
no more sunshine in my life
for she's upped and gone
just her silver spoon in my hand
she's finished with me I understand

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris

© 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Old dried up and calloused hands
Lined like a sycamores round tree rings
Now with a paintbrush delicate swings
As time runs out of the hourglass sand
Thinking of the metal worn oily tools
Quiet now in the sawmill shoppe
Where they worked and
chiseled and planed nonstop
Asleep in the wooden box on the stool
Claw hammer hands with a lead keel weight
Arthritis pain through the white Bayer pill
Lightness fades and the hard night late
Bereaved when the fingers are permanent still


Written by Sara Fielder © July 2013
Written for a fellow poet that goes by the name of Leafsailor
Mike Hauser Mar 2013
Some very good friends sat around in their basement
I think we've all been here before
The room of course was smokey and wasted
The four buddies were bored right out of their gourds

They all thought they should do something special
So they decided to build a rocket ship
Throwing a bunch of old plywood together
They then sat around, smoked some more, and planed their spacey trip

Jody spoke up first and said let's go to the moon
But they'd heard that had already been done
That's when he came up with the brightest idea
I know what!  We'll go to the sun!

Go to the sun?!  We may be high but we're not crazy!!
They replied, this ships made out of wood
That's when Jody explained his brilliant idea
Nodding like Bobble Head dolls they all understood

As Jody dug deeper into his intricate plan
All the guys seemed to like it a lot
They would go when it's dark in the middle of night
When the suns put out and it isn't so hot

Since Jody's the genius, they put him in charge
He seems to have a grasp on what's left of his brain
There were four of them but only room for two
They drew straws 'cause they were having difficulty remembering their names

The straws turned out to be the same length
Cutting them, somebody forgot
So they picked Jody as their Captain Kirk
And Jason as his sidekick Spock

Out in left field, the excitement was contagious
Jody yelled, 'To infinity and Beyond'
They knew that quote came from some famous movie
But had a memory lapse so they gave him more Bobble Head nods

At that point they realized they had no engine
Being impaired, not a one of them cared
They all went back down into the basement
And took another kind of trip without going anywhere
Rangzona Mar 2012
Zombies they approach 
to bad we can't be friends 
This was my last thought
As I load my gun

This will be a blood bath
And I may never survive 
I am the last, destined to die by hand I used to curest
I see her in the mob 
Slowly approaching 
Why rush I was doomed 
I know it and so did they

I faught for 7 years 
And this is my end
I am the last to see thair loved ones
I wounder how they will live with out me
I guess the same if I was the one that was victorious 
"**** this I yell"
 as the zombies began to in case me
I was never the one who seeked the crowed 
All wayse the loner
Dreaming for this day 
Not hoping just knowing it will come to pass

My end will be beautiful 
I cocked my gun
Knowing I wount need it but just liked the ilosen of my finally
Being of a gun fight,

We planed this
Me and the once people who surround me
All hopping it will never come
But non believed it was unnesary 

They was in place 
The shells all in place 
I slipped the wire under my feat
And even though I could not see the liquid I know 
It hit its home
Zombies cried in rage
Canines thrusted into the air
Trying to cut the air 
And I laughted 

****** was my favorite was my favorite wepen 
I glanced above my head to see the net
Filed with liquid hell
It amused me that all the years I threaten to rain
Hell on my enimeyes 
I get to do it

I hit the swich in my poket 
I herd the flames hit the net 
It will take 2 minutes for the flames
To meet the c4 
But the zombies had a different plan
They rushed me 
And all I did was take two steps backwards
And the mine wint of without a hitch

I lust a leg but that was enught distraction
C4 inighted and turned the night alive 
I had made my last day of life
Hell
And I smile
The end is now
I closed my eyes
And waited 
For my firy demise 
To welcome me
Craig Dotti Dec 2009
Everyone’s so **** far
away
Everything is on steroids

And as all we know
Swells to sizes more
Than even god planed
They inevitably come in between us

The way a 70 inch TV splits a family apart
To opposite hemispheres of their “living”- room -world
“Can you hear me over there Brother?  Sister?”
“Not listening.”  
“Can’t see you.”

Electronic wedges that push us farther
And farther from our fathers

“Dad I just called because you never
answered my textual message
And email is too slow as you well know.”

“Come home son.” He concedes

“I lost my way home pop.”

“You’re right, I guess the 50’s are done and The Wonder Years
is long out of syndication.”

So I’m an alien on this *******- like stretch of land.

Ponce de Leon would claim it for his peninsula as
A peninsula of eternal life
A greater man than I would label it “The happiest place on earth.”

But all I know is this:
This earthen ***** might as well be an island off the coast of nowhere
Gainesville might as well be in Russia, rather
The Steppes of Asia Minor
And you most certainly are
An aberration from a softer night far ago

I guess I’ll see it all half full and live
In my State of Confusion
Located somewhere between the North and South Pole

Call it self pity, but no one but people like me understand
The concept of one million miles
Meet me halfway, someplace if you agree


Live in States of Unknown
So then you will
Always have a home
Inner Child Jul 2015
Shadows mock me on the wall,
Watching waiting for me too fall,
So many surround me yet I feel so alone,
I can see figures but no one is shown,
My body grows heavy I cant take much more,
I feel a tremble, all through my core,
Help me! Help me! I scream to them all,
But my please go un-heard as the shadows stand tall,
Why is this happening? What dose fate have planed?
Not one shadow offers their hand,
The shadows are dancing they begin to rejoice,
And I start to wonder if I have a choice,
Who would miss me? Shadows don't mourn,
My mind is rushing, with this choice I am torn,
The shadows stop dancing and reach out too late,
Now I am falling to my impending fate.
May/24th/2011
Dennis Bielanski Dec 2013
All thought the night
The stars and the moon are so bright
My feelings are hard to constrain
But I stand here alone with my pain

Now here I stand
The cold bitter wind on my hands
But I got a firm grip understand
These feelings for you were not planed

Holding on
To these feelings for you
Holding on
Not sure what to do
Holding on
And it's not fair to you
Holding on

Now comes the dawn
A golden blue sky coming on
The warmth on my face I can feel
Please tell me this pain is not real

And in my heart
These feelings for you I impart
And the tears I don't want them to start
Cause that's when it all falls apart

Holding on
To these feelings for you
Holding on
Not sure what to do
Holding on
And it's not fair to you
Holding on
Toxic yeti Nov 2018
The young woman
Desire both the Yeti
And showing
Off her odd lover in the town
But her skilled lover said
Ma’re
No she thought
So she had respect his wishes
But she grew tired of the cold cave.
They planed to walk in the mountain passes  
In the dead of night
On night
One when the moon was full
And bright
They walk along
To avoid humans
They go deeper into the mountains
As the walk
She kisses her savage
And skilled lover
“Kayrangla gawpo yo.”
She said.
They embrace and explore eachothers bodies.
They couple
Her doing most of the work
To satisfy
And to love.
Kayrangla gawpo yo is tibetan for I love you. And ma’re means no in tibetan.
the cyber bully said sorry to cover up, so does the weird kid


you see there was this man named Robert Delneath who was really bad, and he liked to

pick on vulnerable people, like taking their lunch money to try and prove a point with the

families of the world that he means business, and he has this phoney sorry which always follows

first of all, Robert picked on Harry jacobs by bullying him and making him really sad that

nobody likes him and then he bullied Ben Mather who was really scared of him and said how

about we make a truce, i give you my lunch now and you never hassle me again but Robert

was confused because that is not how it works, you see he said he was the king and deserves everything

and if you don’t give me your lunch, I will punch you, got it, and Ben was really scared and said leave me alone

i am a family person, the only people i like in my life are people who are nice to my family and Robert said **** your

stupid family, ok, you give me your lunch right now, ok and Ben ran away from him but the problems will never go away

cause Robert has friends in high places and track Ben down any tick of the clock and after that he said, Ben, no your not

a family person, I am not leaving you alone till you understand that you are a hooligan, ya know a no hoper like me but Ben

said no, i am not a no hoper, i am one stretch of the canvas a better person than you.

Robert said ok go home, but i will hassle you again, and don’t forget Mather, I never get caught, so you have to co operate

and then there was Mark Kenneth who hardly went out much and his brother was a real adventure lover and because of that

Robert was enrolled himself himself in the same school as Mark, decided to pick on him by taking his lunch, saying you are

a stupid little ******* circus monkey and Mark said my family are really nice to me and they will protect me, but none of that

came out, actually Mark was too scared to say anything and kept looking at Robert and Robert and his mated said what are you looking at, Turk

and picked on him for a long time, you see Mark wanted this man to leave him alone but didn’t have the heart to say anything to him

because Robert tried to tell him to shut up, and Mark was about to say, Nobody tells Mark Kenneth to shut up, but none of that came out

and he remained looking at Robert, making him feel very uncomfortable, but Mark just sat there watching him trying to think that he really thought

Robert was cool and he didn’t want cool people bullying him so instead of saying that either, he said nothing remaining lookling at him

in a queer sort of a way and then when Mark went home he told his parents and the next day Mr Kenneth became the the big man and actually

said, LEAVE MY SON ALONE,  and Robert said i am trying to but he is looking at us in a queer way, we need him to understand that kids are cool

and Mr  kenneth  was worried about his families safety so he got a job offer in Wisconsin and moved there and when he arrived there Mark started going out

and was trying to think about a way to protect himself better because what Robert posted on Face book that there is a queer starer coming to the USA

and what was happening was a hole lot of situations like a kid saying your like us man, i want o fight you, and another group of thugs locked Mark up in the

the store room in his class, and some kids ****** into a fruit box bottle and gave to Mark to drink which really upset Marks father and also some poor kids

kept on ribbing him for money, by throwing his wallet all over the classroom and when he thought his peers were finally going to leave him alone,

then the voices started happening in Marks head, Kidnap kids take a kid and lock him in the cage, which forced a situation with a portable toilet which was

there for the workmen, of the putting together of gas in the street and Mark wanted to lock every kid in this toilet, one by one, and then the kidnap voices

really drove him crazy, but he tried to play basketball and bowling as well as go to see the Green Bay Packers play, yeah this was realy radically awesome

for him but then he went to the Wisconsin local fruit market and ******* a boy to the toilet, and that was where, Mark had to settle down, getting kids back makes you

the bully and Robert must be dead or sitting in his house laughing at the crazy Mark Kenneth and then Mark thought drinking was his solace but he started really fighting

his dad t stick up to him, but it turned out that Mr Kenneth was really scared of his son Mark, he was really scared for his safety because of the way the young dudes

teased him because Mark was staring at them, never wanted to accept his apology because he thought he wanted the teasing to come back, and Mark was mugged outside the

Green Bay Packers football club after watching cake perform, and lost his house keys and his wallet and some ******* bashed him but let him go after Mark was appearing to tough for him

and after all that Robert said I am Robert Delneath world famous cyber bully, I NEVER LOSE, ****** Mark, you see Robert planed the voice in his head, saying he wasn’t a nerdy character

just try and beat us, I have the world at my fingertips, heh heh heh
Brittany Wynn Jan 2016
I sit on our recliner,
Luna bar wrapper on the floor.
My robe is cinched
too tight, a reminder--
your fingers should meet
around my waist, but my ****
and *** should spill out of your palms
because defined curves and wiles
are the definition of a divine
woman worthy of insta-fame,
tumblr posts, and right
swipes.

I'll twist and turn and pose
in front of any mirror, desperate
for a flat-planed stomach and fuller
cleavage, the whole time
wondering if you look at me bent
over the bathroom counter, fixing my eyeliner,
and think that I'm a dime disguised
in a size 0 dress.

If my sides could shrink as fast
as my self-esteem, I'd never crunch
my abs into idealistic numbers again.
Erik Sorlie Oct 2012
Receding back to my usual corner
only passing time til I'm introduced to my coroner
attempting to inject fine knowledge into semantic memory
when a sudden wave of parinoier washes over the scenery

Unfortunately having drank all this coffee
with enough caffeine to **** the energizer bunny
my parched throat compels a leathery thirst
so I take another sip and act as the hearse
but as I'm throwing the soiled cup away
the coffee didn't quite go the way
...I had planed

As I begin coughing out loud in quiet public spaces
a disastrous look comes from their squinted little faces
as if they've been trapped and caged liked vermin
too long is some building deemed antiquarian

attempting assertion over upcoming coercions
I must admit I'm rather enjoying this
disrupting there gathering of information
with my uncontrolled vocal insertions

but enough with my cynical social actions
I must return to my work with which I have no passion
and because I've become bored with rereading these lines
I must retire to my higher cognitive confines
Cat Fiske Jan 2016
it's sad that you feel no one can love you,
to feel only the one person who hurt you, will be the only one to of loved you,
when his love was in ways good and bad,
but the bad outweighed the good,

you as you are, miss him for every time it was good.
and  you as you are, try to use it to cover up the bad things,
you remember, there were lots of good thing that happened,
and you wonder, how many bad things really happened,
as you see the bad were always there, just ignored,
if a living soul only truly knew,
like a child I played hide and seek with this one, but made sure it was never to be found,
and lived the pain that stays and will follows you around,
like the things you wished you could of done more about,
this is why I can't allow myself to love anyone,
even if I deserve them
even if I want them,
even if they wanted to,
I don't know how to trust that way again,

I don't remember turning fifteen,
so I promised myself never to live that day again,
I can't celebrate my birthday without hating the skin I have to live in,
My body feels disgusted by all the things I have to remember,
I ******* turned fifteen, and what you did,
was far from the gift I wanted,
but I still stayed with you,

as I was so blinded,
maybe by you.
maybe still,
why do I still want you,
why do I still want to be with such a bad soul as you,
I've shut my heart out to anyone else,
I planed at fourteen that at eighteen I'd move away with you,
what was I thinking,

you've only brought me pain,
only made me cry,
only made me remember things I tried to forget,
this is why I took up smoking cigarettes,
and burning away my pain,
giving the third degree to my skin like it's you,
I doubt you have felt an inch of the pain I have been dealt by you,
because I was nothing but good to you,

just not myself,
when it came to you,
I still remember the good though,
the times we smiled,
and went for walks,
and saw two dollar movies over and over but never really saw them,
I wish I could have it all back before it all got bad,
but I can't.
and i'm unlovable now.
because I gave a fool my trust,
when I should of run,
Unlovable
Michelle Oag Nov 2014
Their is something out there
Lurking in the shadows
Watching...
Waiting...
Planing the perfect time to strike;
We know it's out there..
We can feel its eyes
Painting a bullseye on our backs
We think we are ready to face it...
We think that we can win...
But we will never be ready...
For it is already ahead in this...
It's already five steps ahead
Because it lurks in the shadows...
waiting.. Watching... planing...
We can't win because we can never catch up to it.
We know nothing..
Only that it watches from a distance..
It knows our biggest fears..
Our greatest weakness...
And our strengths...
It has already won...
Because it has planed this from the beginning..
It was always in control..
And it will stay in control...
It will determine our fate
We will have to accept that..
Accept that our lives..
Are in the hands of something that lurks in the shadows.
Waiting for the perfect time to strike..
And claim our souls as it's prize.
A W Bullen Feb 2021
My Kingdom
is a builder,s yard.

A Bethlehem
of measurement
of plasterboard and timbering.
An interwoven sepulchre
of garrulous vernacular.

Expletive-laden badinage,
our handle of the hardstand
is the character of companies
I keep.

And unto these
my time is priced,
my soul is planed,
my name is signed...

but
in the dark
of winter evenings,
watching ancient planets rise,

I contemplate the other lives
another me, might live...
Bethlehem- Bedlam
Maddy Morgan Jan 2010
Lips part, and the sun shines.
With every touch a star is born.
Breathing life/
Fingertip colour.
Words so softly spoken—
Carried away with the jet-planed waves.
I notice your smile—
The snow-capped mountains melt away.
Footsteps/
Dandelions dance.
Laughter.
Eyes like a bear.
Radiance.
Joy.
Luck or fate?
Your scent/
Your hair/
Your face/
You.
MoonChild Jul 2013
The table was made of wood of unknown origin.
Sanded and planed with textures and knots,chips and crevices that have been picked at by uncaring hands.
The color of the table was indecipherable,
perhaps the color of tears poured in anguish or the color of laughter,
of conversation,songs sung,secrets told,anouncements made,toasts drunk to and spilled.
Babies have been changed on it's surface,
Arms have been cut while leaning upon it supporting the need to feel.
Letters written,meals shared and eaten alone,
Tempers have flared at it's edges,fists drawn in anger,points made by hitting it's surface as if it were the other.
Decisions made,lines drawn like grains in the wood,
long lines drawn and promises broken.
I am sure as I sit as this table I hear whispers of it all,
babies,tears,love,pain,
sharing each a knot,a scratch,a patina so tactile I want to touch those whispers and feel them sift through my fingers,
Memories all,proof that we were,
That I am..............
Nareg Bostanian Oct 2012
Water bottle and a candle sitting in the dark,
the room filled with heat,
so much energy vibrating in and out,
what is it that helps me stay focused.
The night is not as bright as a full moon would be,
but you can hear some kind of gloom.
Is it only because I only look at the negative things,
because all I think about are these stupid flings.
I can live life with no strings,
attached to my mind and just act like kings!
I should just stretch my wings, and fly maybe until I get to the Colorado Springs.
Does it really matter?
Because what im concerned with is being happy,
I shouldn't get mad if there is a challenge cause that just means I get to be a bit scrappy,
This is no reason to get all ******,
and make myself and the others around me unhappy.
I lived and I learned,
Sometimes in life you just have to be;
And not worry about how to get free,
No matter how bad you think you need to flee.
Because you learn that nothing is a guarantee,
So even if it feels like your emotions are falling out of your heart like a planed that crash and left debris,
Everywhere so everyone can just plainly see,
who cares just let it all oversee, that there is nothing **** wrong with being ARTSY.
Paul Morgana Apr 2014
The sixties changed our countries ways,
Gone was the time of June Cleaver days.

Vietnam and protesting, divorce and unrest.
Family's unraveling, that era's not the best.

Out around LA, communes were in vogue,
Welcoming all, the beggar, thief and rogue.

The one commune, around Topanga town,
Was home to a family, that brought the world down.

Charles Manson, and his motley crew,
Were plotting and planning horrible things to do.

The drinking and drugs, had warped his mind,
The war was coming, the world in a bind.

Gathering arms for the fight of their life,
Blacks vs Whites, getting ready for the strife.

Funding is needed, for any good war,
Arms and supplies, always needing more.

So after a party, featuring mind altering drugs,
A robbery was planed, the family now thugs.

The first attacks, were directed at those,
Oblivious to Charlie, they had no foes.

Sharon Tate was a pregnant Hollywood beauty,
An aspiring actress, she was a real cutie.

Watson and Krenwinkel and other sick folk,
Tortured and killed, with a fork they did poke.

A horrible crime, what were they thinking?
Even lower they dropped, their ship kept on sinking.

The LaBianca castle was next on the list,
Beaten to death, with a hammer and a fist.

San Quentin and the gas chamber, to be their fate,
Sentences commuted to life, the reaper must wait.

To collect up those souls, and bring them to hell,
God may be forgiving, but this horror doesn’t sell.

Manson and his cronies must remain locked away,
New souls for the devil, in hell they will stay.


Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Ashley Etienne Jun 2015
Well maybe it's just anxiety that makes me so terrified of death.. Like whenever I think about how someone was once living and is no longer alive and how they take a bit of everyone to their grave with them. And how it's so sudden and so quiet at times and others are planed and loud or loud and sudden or quiet and planed and how sometimes those are the most painful because you were prepared for and explosion but all you get is a lit candle.  Maybe I'm just scared of the uncertainty that comes with death like is there a god? Will I meet her? Is she as kind as everyone says? Or is she just as human as all of us? But maybe there's nothing, maybe it all goes black maybe you stay here and watch your own body decompose?maybe you don't? Maybe you live on with the stars and you become the sun of someone else's solar system, warming more hearts than you ever did when you were human... And what if you die twice like some people say. When your bodies dies and when the memory of you dies.  Or three times. When the person you love ceases to love you.Which is worse?

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