"prudential" poems
1324
I send you a decrepit flower
That nature sent to me
At parting—she was going south
And I designed to stay—
Her motive for the souvenir
If sentiment for me
Or circumstances prudential
Withheld invincibly—
3.2k
1535
The Life that tied too tight escapes
Will ever after run
With a prudential look behind
And spectres of the Rein—
The Horse that scents the living Grass
And sees the Pastures smile
Will be retaken with a shot
If he is caught at all—
2.5k
Third Date
She talked and talked and talked,
an East Coast, cultured accent;
"So what are you anyway,
half-German? *** really?
But you look so......British, I guess..."
He stroked her knee.
She gesticulated loudly,
and talked.
"So you were at Princeton,
WOW, that's impressive."
He squeezed her knee.
"I baked cupcakes on Friday night,
my Mom's recipe.
I don't even eat cupcakes,
what's that all about?!?!
He squeezed her other knee.
She wore a mid-thigh,
black and white dress,
swirls, that sort of thing,
interesting cleavage.
He was back on the first knee.
She looked Italian
(it was 'Ristorante Acqua al Duo' after all),
Amy Winehouse eye flares,
head swaying,
resting on her palms,
swaying again.
He had his back to me.
She fingered the wine glass,
tall and generous,
devoured
the last inch,
came up for air and talked again.
He wore a blazer
and cavalry twill pants,
loafers and no socks.
She was hot,
really hot,
fanned her brow with the dessert menu
"Tiramisu was so deeeelicious".
75 degrees on the Prudential window.
He perspired,
fidgeted,
loosened his collar,
looked for the waitress.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 6:45 PM UTC
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Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
Thou art not the one I want to write about;
but it appears that I have no brighter choice.
The only one that seems to bear no fault;
and lives a life full of merriment and bliss.
And thy, thy name! So delicate as a summer laughter
With hands so imbued with clarity and brave power.
I believe thou art such an ingenious lover;
but frail as thou hath always been; weak and fragile
under thy harmonious cover.
And shall I be treading these paths, tomorrow noon;
whenst I'll come across a dainty flower by the lagoon.
Amongst those ripe cherries-there is one too like thee,
so mysterious and sometimes gazes awkwardly at me.
Thy young bud is that of rose and berry,
a symbol of thy soul so embraced by words and poetry.
Ah! And so deserving it is of graceful flattery;
as thou move along these paths, thy young heart shines
and gleams afar-just like the dribbling snow,
how childish, yet altogether refined and free.
Thy stare-o, thy stare, querida, is deep and anxiously unbending;
like those gracious arts and their prudential stone carving
or pools with swarms of red starfish so enchanting
as my little boat swims along feverishly, unnoticing.
And ah! Unaging as thou always art,
growth is but futile to thy slippery soul
With this world thou shalt never part,
and foreverness becomes thy frost-like hall.
Youthness of thine that shall never fade,
and handsome face that shall never wane.
O, how thy delicacy is to me like that cruel fate-
o my dearest, humble immortal man!
Timelessness shall then become our lasting key;
to a love sweeter and even more precious than destiny.
And live, live in utter happiness shall forever we,
as long as these muscles can breath, and as far as
these eyes can see.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
Before leaving for Plaza Prudential,
Don't forget about the essentials.
Like the standard pen or pencil,
To scribble down prices and credentials.
Life for you has been sequential;
From high school through college to jurisprudential.
The exponential increase in wisdom is thanks to the potential
Realized by influential forces to stop the consequential future.
Curses, that was supposed to be confidential.
Jul 4, 2011
Jul 4, 2011 at 10:09 AM UTC
Prudential center mall is OK
But girl got to meet new frend todaye
Friend tol me aboute the new skirt pull up I baughts me
Da boys who der don no wha dey got.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC
I'm not asking for forever.
I'd settle for a moment
or two.
I don't want to hide
from inevitability.
I'm aware all things
tend to fade.
There's no need to
pretend we're immortal,
and I'm happy we'll never
get the chance to be so.
I've thought about what it'd be like --
to live forever, with myself.
I imagine it'd be like a new city
every weekend.
I imagine I'd see the same people,
just a new arrangement of faces.
I'd know all the pitfalls and say, quietly:
"Ya know, I've seen this before.
Maybe you shouldn't do that."
But I don't speak loud enough.
Oh well. New week, new town.
Then I think of all the farewells.
I'd probably become numb to good-bye
and forget to ever say hello.
I'd get stuck in my head
and know the story of every person
without ever speaking to them.
Watching them walk, I'd make
up their stories for laughs.
She wanted to be an art history major
but prudential planning interrupted her thoughts;
now she studies biology, or chemistry, or physics.
She isn't happy at all.
I can tell by the shoes that she wears.
He wanted to be born as a peasant,
unaware of money or cars or the lot.
He thinks people are happier like that.
I can tell by the shades that he wears.
She wants to be a trophy wife.
He wishes that he never had kids.
She thinks she's too good for manual labor.
He once lit a bag of cats on fire.
I'd laugh at the stories unfolding before me.
After a few generations, I'd know every
story combination that ever could be.
So, I'd turn my gaze to myself
and find another lonely man
making stories in his head
without ever asking if they're true.
I don't think I could handle forever.
Sometimes today doesn't end soon enough.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC
In the stillness of that split second,
my tawny eyes recognized those woods:
for, It was a familiar bend.
woods all dark and serene as they stood.
I drew my cape closer,
my movements prudential and slower
I heard footsteps behind me;
I turned,my mind dancing with glee
but my face was soon set on a sigh,
for my dreams never came by
I closed my eyes a second time
to succumb to the darkness and stillness of the glen.
A breeze touched me with it’s silent chime;
I felt light spewing in that lion’s den.
Light vanished the dark veil that covered the beauty of nature,
a beauty that nothing in this world could attain as a feature,
the divinity that none could seizure,
the beauty that we destroy for leisure.
I hated to look back to my worldly life
because ,it only bought me sorrow.
I was carried far away,away from that sharp knife.
The beauty around me seemed to stimulate the beauty within me
giving me a better hope for tomorrow.
I had been there; amidst those lilies and heather in every weather
but,I was expecting someone,in that silent ether.
my hair danced in the morning air like a feather,
I knew that something should bring us together.
My heart skipped a beat,I saw her once again
I extended my pale hands to her
she held them,anger and agony silently drained
from my finger tips,for her mind was soft and pure as fur.
Nobody could describe the love I had for that world
where, I could lose myself like an innocent child;
where, the pain of past wounds were to be shed;
the place where the light of imagination led.
I was held back from venturing my imagination,
for they told me to live in the reality,
but,did they knew the painstaking frustration
that,involved the idea of staying back,blocked from glee?
Now that I can’t go back
to that world where hate seemed to lack
I have to die in this menacing shack.
Maybe, one day i’ll be remembered in a clack
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
My utterance in wanting to speak
I had numerous questions that I was trying to seek
Yet I was told to remain silence
A volcanic eruption I felt all inside
The silence I just couldn’t abide
My integrity being my honest
No I am not trying to be modest
My understanding being more than mire words
It’s a matter of being heard
For years I was told I had no voice
But the question being, “Who made this a choice?”
Thoughts are made too be granted
Shout out with your opinion expressed
Be determined and make it clear like it’s your last breath
Lead doesn’t always mean follow
A space in the corner being your own makes you shallow
You have become a shadow of your own fate
This you can change and it is never too late
You control and can make it an anticipated date
Facts and figures that certainly should relate
Think on accomplishments of Paul Revere
Dr. Martin Luther King in where do we go from here?
The Civil Movement from mission step to the rear
President Obama in “Lets continue to preserver”
It’s a matter of your voice being solid as the Prudential Rock
It doesn’t matter if negativity mocks
Your voice shines like the New York Stock Exchange
It’s the roar of applause with thinking with a cause and the impression that remains
Act like a Senator from within and let your speaking begin.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC