"remonstrating" poems
time governs
you and me
treat it not
irreverently
chance the unknown
while you can
sands of time
pause for no woman nor man
one and all
quick sticks
the time piece
it ticks it ticks
dithers and dawdlers
hear the alarm
wasted days
do each of us
irreversible harm
of the calendar year
we are sure
but moments in time
are pending trapdoors
make every venture
your stock in trade
lest time render us
uncertain and afraid
in reality rosters
and agendas do vary
devilish time
oft wickedly contrary
speed up Jack and Jill
sundials are on a roll
time is indiscriminate
exacting
a costly toll
governor time
is carefully deliberating
our pendulums
remonstrating
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
he craves online hook-ups.
But this isn't me
nor am I that intrepid
a torrent trampoline
on wireless ether engines
cyber silver surfin'
zone on / in .nets & .coms
searching fiber-optics for sight
browsing rooms of M4M / in-fantasized delights
an itch to fix
to sit transfixed
as if
subliminally attached
umbilically
digitally digitized digi-man
to a electronic felatio soundtrack
yet all the while detached
lurking duplicitly
reading pretend profiles explicitly
for *** sexified mind
dreaming up new fetishes
with misspelled texts
tandem testimonials as if written
by a Compaq-machine-head
Microsoftened lust
currents electric now as we turn into dust
with iBooks & faraway Dells on our laps
scrolling lists for Adams
status' with "anything goes"
remonstrating our vicious cycle
alive & blank with un/trust
gone viral...
this isn't me.
where is the warmth
of feelings, emotions,
malleable and infallible / love??
I am not as talented
as he
to be in two places at once,
but he
has the many faces
and genius of multiple personalities
Cybil
facets
of sabotage with Mommy Dearest grace.
Beautiful strangers his acquired
taste...
he says it was not him
(doing ****
my rage has only one trait.
two eyes (once wide asleep in the lies)
and velvet-rope-burned
wrists
my feet learn to fly
my heart un-breaks
my wings reanimate...
he has too many faces
doppleganger hatred
none to care for or embrace
When did I go blind,
and leave my many strengths?
Where do I now
again
begin??
(The rubble or the sin?)
Every night adieu
Every day anew
once again...
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 6:43 PM UTC
I accept you warts an’ all
my heart didn’t see them when it fell
I realise now your a know-it-all
a fact your ever-ready to tell
I finally met my Mr. Right
always ready to fight a cause
remonstrating day and night
didn’t know his first name was always
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
defined as "existing or being everywhere at the same time; constantly encountered."
__________________________________________________
he craves online hook-ups.
...but this isn't me
or that intrepid,
torrent trampoline
on wireless ether engines
zone on in .nets & .coms
searching fiber-optics for sight
browsing rooms of M4M to fantasize delights
to itch to fix
to sit transfixed as if
subliminally attached
umbilically
digitally to a electronic felatio
soundtrack
yet all the while detached
lurking
reading pretend profiles explicit
with *** sexified,
dreaming up new fetishes
with misspelled texts
tandem testimonials as if written
by a Compaq-machine-head
or Microsoftened lust
as now we are turning to dust
with iBooks & faraway Dells on our laps
scrolling lists and Adams with "anything goes"
remonstrating our vicious
cycle - blank with un/trust
this isn't me...
where is the warmth
of feelings, emotions,
love??
I am not that talented
to be in two places at once,
but he has the faces
and genius of multiple personalities
facets
of sabotage with grace.
he says it isn't him.
my anger has only one trait. two eyes.
velvet
rope-burned
limbs...
and he has too many faces
doppleganger hatreds
where does one
begin??
(The rubble or the sin?)
____________________________________________
DOPpLEGANGER (2016)--[Rewrite]
he craves online hook-ups.
But this isn't me
nor am I that intrepid
a torrent trampoline
on wireless ether engines
cyber silver surfin'
zone on / in .nets & .coms
searching fiber-optics for sight
browsing rooms of M4M / in-fantasized delights
an itch to fix
to sit transfixed
as if
subliminally attached
umbilically
digitally digitized digi-man
to a electronic felatio soundtrack
yet all the while detached
lurking duplicitly
reading pretend profiles explicitly
for *** sexified mind
dreaming up new fetishes
with misspelled texts
tandem testimonials as if written
by a Compaq-machine-head
Microsoftened lust
currents electric now as we turn into dust
with iBooks & faraway Dells on our laps
scrolling lists for Adams
status' with "anything goes"
remonstrating our vicious cycle
alive & blank with un/trust
gone viral...
this isn't me.
where is the warmth
of feelings, emotions,
malleable and infallible / love??
I am not as talented
as he
to be in two places at once,
but he
has the many faces
and genius of multiple personalities
Cybil
facets
of sabotage with Mommy Dearest grace.
Beautiful strangers his acquired
taste...
he says it was not him
(doing ****
my rage has only one trait.
two eyes (once wide asleep in the lies)
and velvet-rope-burned
wrists
my feet learn to fly
my heart un-breaks
my wings reanimate...
he has too many faces
doppleganger hatred
none to care for or embrace
When did I go blind,
and leave my many strengths?
Where do I now
again
begin??
(The rubble or the sin?)
Every night adieu
Every day anew
once again...
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
You might think it's a social commentary
but to me
it's just a bit of poetry.
If I rant and rave about saving the whales or
some jungle in Ecuador,
they're just words and not for
dissemination,
just for you to read and it's all in my
fertile
imagination.
I write as I feel,I
don't kneel at the feet of
Shelley or Keats,
if you want that instead of my kind of writing,
the right kind of,bright kind of,tight kind of,
then go right in and read.the
difference is in the breeding,the reading is all of the same,
I won't change my style nor my name just to be,
a tick on your checklist for your friends to see.
This is not commentating
this is my heart remonstrating with the soul
that's inside me.
this is my poetry
take it or leave it.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
my throat’s on fire
and i’m coughing up my confidence
i laid awake haunted by your voice
ringing in my sleep like a nightmare
with each sporadic pulse
is an erroneous thought
my convoluted conscious convulsing
now your body’s echoing
cooing back after my howling
taunting, daunting, remonstrating
exploiting, and self-serving
aloof to your own ambivalence
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 7:51 PM UTC
time governs you and me
treat it not irreverently
chance the unknown while you can
sands of time pause for no woman nor man
one and all quick sticks
the time piece it ticks it ticks
ditherers and dawdlers hear the alarm
wasted days do each of us irreversible harm
of the calendar year we are sure
though moments in time are pending trapdoors
make every venture your stock in trade
lest time render us uncertain and afraid
in reality agendas and rosters do vary
devilish time oft wickedly contrary
speed up Jack Jill sundials are on a roll
time is indiscriminate in exacting a costly toll
governor time is carefully deliberating
our pendulums remonstrating
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
time governs you and me
treat it not irreverently
chance the unknown will you can
sands of time pause for no woman nor man
one and all quick sticks
the time piece it ticks it ticks
ditherers and dawdlers hear the alarm
wasted days do each of us irreversible harm
of the calendar year we are sure
though moments in time are pending trapdoors
make every venture your stock in trade
lest time render us uncertain and afraid
in reality rosters and agendas do vary
devilish time oft wickedly contrary
speed up Jack and Jill sundials are on a roll
time is indiscriminate in exacting a costly toll
governor time is carefully deliberating
our pendulums remonstrating
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
I thought of you
The air was heavy
I thought of you again
You looked at me with disdain
The way you looked at me
Remonstrating kind
Sums up your feelings
For so long a time
I gave all my comprehension
You gave me little, if nothing
I gave all the friendship can give
You just treated me as a fleeting thing
Now I'm on my way home
Singing my favorite song
Just enjoying myself
You, are the past, alone
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC