"reputable" poems
I knew the orange on the orange tree
you had an ache in your shoulders
uncomfortable in an unnatural way
yesterday I passed you talking to flowers
you hadn't moved you hadn't strayed
but hiding in the leaves was a forced disguise
the omens told me something quiet and unceasing
reminding me of a slumbering domesticated cat
dreaming of cutting yourself loose from truncated ease
dropping down from the branch with panther steps
licking fruit lips ripe with revealed acidic petals
riddled with a past you revelled mixing in with zest
shocking chances stepped in for the next dance
sleep taken aback by wings cut from a dark sky
the sidewalk pitted and cracked beneath the pounce
relief escaped the twigs with a spring like waking prey
pressing into night foliage shaken from a nice balance
as I saw you take control with nothing to mask your face
on the surface too smooth for violence
was laughter of glowing gloom to embarrass
and deter such rebellious arrogance
with a twist struggling from a lame curse
its flavours sharp against your sweetened perfume muscle
expecting you to build a limestone shed for tears
rather than take on the night with a mind to wrestle
the outside aches for your physical attraction
gaining courage from the purpose in your eyes
tense as the tightness of your dress' intention
demanding that my hands draw from such lines
the sinuous heat of pulsing flesh's invitation
curved upon seeds not chaste but not quite refined
which I try not loving with some cool disambiguation
you left me the taste of syrup of grenadine
too reputable to ripple vain red tipple eyed
on a table spilt with pink gin and mandarin
sharp teeth tingling a tartness into my hand
sliding slowly at a tilt like drops of sweat on skin
focus dwindling into the clasp of an escaping shade
wrapped carefully under soft rice paper and then
tucked under a heel with a pointed kick like a blade
only to feel you relent and burst open
soft in appeal again and again
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
To thank each one of you,
Today, I take the opportunity,
By taking names for your support.
For being the source,
First of all, I thank Life,
For the inspiration she was.
She guided me to Hello Poetry,
Introduced me to new friends,
Broke up ultimately however.
Then I thank Timothy Salter,
For his own and his family's,
Articulate poetry helped me.
Madam Hilda writes as amazing,
And as amazing is their daughter,
It is hard to tell if Marian wrote it.
It's helping me learn more,
Respecting it has taught me,
Had to be paid to earn more.
Not forgetting Gitacharya Vedala,
For he elaborates on every detail,
Thereby helping me experiment.
Same is for Pradip Chattopadhyay,
Hinting of Rabindranath Tagore,
He's the poet clad in sombrero.
Their pure physics at soul poetry,
Helped me learn experimenting,
With sheer hollow truthfulness
I then engage in remembering,
Elsa Angelica for inspiring me,
Her own poetry is developing.
She inspired me to improve,
My strengths & weaknesses,
She taught me being lucid.
Then of course I thank Sukeerti,
She taught me being beautiful,
Without being too explaining.
She encouraged my writing,
Always was their as a friend,
Giving me her positive inputs.
Madam Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Squires,
Aptly mature her poetry is always,
Very much to learn always exists.
Her persona is respectable,
Definitely motherly her aura,
Making her a poet so reputable.
Several other poets fascinate me,
Equally instead of less or more,
They all teach me the lessons.
Madam Sally A Bayan is there,
Her sweet mature bits of advice,
Best complemented by her poetry.
Shayana Shrikanthalingam,
Seeing all her polished poetry,
Not such a difficult name for me.
Ever inseparable they are,
Brandon & Earl Jane Nagley,
They are the immortal lovers.
And I recognize the beauty,
An Indian model here on H.P.,
Poetry surely as cute as herself.
She is the most elegant girl,
On Hello Poetry and in reality,
Bhumika Fulwani I refer to here.
Finally, I express my gratitude to her,
In my life she's the ultimate one,
Now I needn't anyone else.
She is my Pooja Shah,
She is exclusively mine,
She is here forever to stay.
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 5:32 AM UTC
Fred Gorgeous works as a Valet
at a reputable tall hotel
with pools
with marble bathrooms
and those marble bathrooms have marbled ********
marbled sinks where the elderly pinch out blood from their lungs
Fred Gorgeous is balding
he wears glasses
Fred Gorgeous isn't gorgeous at all
Fred Gorgeous listens to love songs in spanish alone
Fred Gorgeous has a Dog
his dog barks at nothing
his dog never sleeps
his dog is ugly too
his dog has brown black eyes and a blue collar
Fred Gorgeous has eyes too
his eyes are green
Fred Gorgeous lives in an apartment downtown
Police sirens quake through the city atmosphere like World War 1 **** chemical war fare
Fred Gorgeous submerges himself underwater in his un-marble bath tub
Fred Gorgeous can still hear the Police Sirens
they have tainted the water too
Fred Gorgeous was in love once
many times
but mostly once
Fred Gorgeous smokes cigarettes
Fred Gorgeous listens to Spanish music in the afternoon
while the city is at work
while the kids are at school
while the drunks are drunk in drunk encouraging residents
Fred Gorgeous buys cheap wine
3 dollars a bottle
Fred Gorgeous isn't gorgeous at all
Fred Gorgeous is 34 years old
He is bored
He is not tired
He has 3 pairs of shoes
All of them leather
Fred Gorgeous gets drunk and lays in his closet
the size of a Coffin
and smells his shoes
Fred Gorgeous enjoys the smell of leather and shoe polish
Fred Gorgeous isn't special
Fred Gorgeous isn't great
Fred Gorgeous isn't brave
or a hero
Fred Gorgeous isn't anything at all
Fred Gorgeous has a painting of a tornado on his wall.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
Caecearian dissection
Reaped from the sow
Emerged & is unable to die
Everlasting love for Jasmine
Flawed emotions in time
Reputable craps of worthless reason
Ostentatively prodigal, these
Multiple details in our pound of flesh
Hate; no opposite of love
At tandem thus may exist
Temporary it is; fate quenched
Elevated again is love; for it'll never die
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
for Olle Dellblad
"When a stranger awakes in the outside, he can't sleep through the inside." -Unknown Roman Poet
As he marched about at sunset, he reached out upon the dawn, found himself in his direct path to the grave. He realized the error of his ways, a concept which is alien to him, as he is so clever he nearly always knows exactly what he is doing.
He jumped down from the boulder and strode confidently and un-haltingly, ever the straight face toward certain destruction, which turned out to really be just alright. He felt the steady burn of such realities that he had to escape before he could reach the fingers of light which crept in through the crack beneath the door.
As he tried to keep his expression as mean and cruel as ever in his career, the much less reputable and times less powerful tried to rope him back in to the cruel life again. He ignored and destroyed him, and discreetly met and signed with the ones who had only yesterday wanted to **** him. He was stuck, completely unrecognizable in the company of the most dreadful of the ****** prisoners. Prisoners of sight and mind, and most of all spirit.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 10:04 AM UTC
A little girl; so innocent
Broken, like concrete
Forsaken in this world
As God had chosen to replete
Forever damaged
Spare me the deceit
That I have long encountered
Mentally ****** and incomplete
I broke the mirrors
That distorted my vision
I am not perfect
I am far from precision
Just a judicial decision
To execute this excision
To ensure that this provision
Of unwanted unborn children
Remain broadcasted on public television
For the captivity of the elderly
Scorned, defeated and miserable
Left in utter decay
Salvaging day and night
Part of this twisted foreplay
That took place on Christmas Eve
For Chirst to be born
On such a horrible day, to entail
This sad story of evil
Demons from hell rose in this tale
But Jesus did nothing
Except to defy the Holy Grail
My exorcism, my ghost
To whom shall I toast?
To the one who left me to burn?
To define myself in these lies
God, I am flawed by your unconcern
Jesus, I am mocked by your reputable lies
For that you deserve a noble prize
Can't you see the concern in my eyes?
I have lost my allies
And I have become the worst
That I could possibly be
Part taking in these sins
Is that what you wanted from me?
You deny my existence
You hide behind pride
You force coincide
And you deny individuality
You force this conceited ******* to form
Or so you implied
Turns out the shock was worldwide
But that didn't stop you
From setting me aside
Sitting in your corner
Contemplating
Is she human or a mutation
Something somewhat malformed
Or perhaps just a devil
An ogre at best
Fine be that way
I am not one to detest
My worst side though
I do not advise you test
I am not blessed
For it is in black that I dress
"Satan's spawn!" they protest
Is it my fault that I am possessed?
Conniving and witty
I am sick of this mess
God you put me here
But nevertheless
I am obscene
And forever your mess
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 5:10 PM UTC
Bill O'Reilly got the boot!
Fox News has said good-by--
A place where reputable commentators
Are already in short supply.
He faces too many allegations
Of ****** harassment. But, oh dear!
What a mess he's made of things
Now in his Fox News career!
Being a brute and a hypocrite
For Bill O'Reilly was NOT hard to handle.
Funny, but he was an outspoken critic
During the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal.
Peddler of white nationalistic
Ideas, O'Reilly does have his fans.
He'll find a job with someone who
Peddles theories as bizarre as that man's.
His sudden departure from the station
Doesn't really affect us directly.
But why doesn't a person like him
Behave more circumspectly?
I guess when your mentor is Roger Ailes,
You have the power to do as you wish--
To regard EACH female employee
Or guest as merely a **** dish.
- by Bob B (4-21-17)
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
As we speak, I am in the vortex of a Purple Haze.
Seattle has produced more than a reputable brand of coffee and the great hall of fame resounds throughout eternity.
We are acknowledged by Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Kurt Cobain - don’t you think?
Come as you are, because freedom is just another word for nothing less to lose.
So, my sensual mistress of musical engineering - shake those deep and hypnotic dreams from your hair and watch where you point that gun! Okay?
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
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And then offer them the best service as per their requirement,In addition.brokers prepare an assessment of the type of coverage that the customer requires and ask insurers to provide a quote for the coverage.According to Libertus,It also provides various loans like House Equity Lines of Credit,should notify their insurance company about the purchase.How to Get an A on the Choosing an AP Automation Solution' Exam will take place on Tuesday.Make sure you inform your insurance company about the new car within the appropriate time else you would be driving away.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
i have never wanted to be so good to someone.
i could trace the outline of your fingernails onto my faced up palms as we
reached for each other,
slipping my thoughts into your back pocket,
and you'll hold me like a golden locket as
we climbed tree limbs into the heavy august air
to tangle our own until
the light turned us free,
like the spotlight on the faces of my
old high school choir -
my vocal cords were ready to bust at the
seams,
i just wanted to be heard and
you had the finest of skills in listening.
i could talk in miles or
explain in knots,
but the options were endless.
i chose to keep my tongue hidden,
as i feathered my lips on your unforgiven
past, not least but last,
the scars following your
arm.
i could see the matches
that burned
each thought on your elbows,
the love you misplaced
when no one gave you the
thumbs up or the acceptance letter,
that held back and pushed to
your toes.
circulate it,
and pump it through
your bones.
it will destroy the blame and
dispassionate habits,
like the way things hurt
and the anger towards the less than
pleased family who only suffer
because of their reputable
finished paintings might have
some water damage from
the storms.
i want prove that there is good in
the beggars and the pleasers.
there is compassion in the corners
and valleys of the longest of
highways.
it might be a far stretch,
but you gotta believe there's more than
just road signs telling you
where to go
and
people who can't love
anyone other
than themselves.
because even the lost ones
need love, too.
Mar 22, 2011
Mar 22, 2011 at 5:50 PM UTC
From the depths of my soul
My most reputable
source of information Told me
to keep it real
but the reel's spinnin' Towards me
and the fact of the matter
is a matter of fact
the laughing stock
is just a toy warehouse in the back
and these feelings are just feelings
and it's clearly appearing
that merely believing
is healing the cracks
Sanity intact
Man it seems that that alone
Would satisfy my manic past
A lapse of judgement
Frequents me
So let's adjust the frequency
Muster up the decency
To face it head on peacefully
Turn another leaf for me
To at least get through this evening
So I can focus on just healing me
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
her one and only claim to fame
was not a reputable asset
indeed it bought upon her shame
around the ears we weren't wet
accounts galore she'd create
was not a reputable asset
she e'en had some on a sleeper plate
the guises used didn't fool a bit
accounts galore she'd create
why the need for many an outfit?
multiple costumes being worn
the guises didn't fool a bit
ever other identities were born
writing under trillions of naming tags
multiple costumes being worn
but viewers were wise to her wags
writing under a trillion naming tags
her one and only claim to fame
indeed it bought upon her shame
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 5:42 PM UTC
To Bill Cosby,
Are you proud now?
You slept well at night for almost twenty years
Has your conscience burst your stone cold heart yet?
You were called "America's Dad"
And some people refuse to believe you are guilty
Of ****** fifteen women
But just because they do not want to believe it
Does not mean it didn't happen.
You may have been ambivalent
But a benevolent ****** is still a ******
Some say your victims should have reported it sooner
Well, I must say I understand their position
I waited seven years to disclose my assault
And no one judged me.
They only say this because they want a reason
To consider you innocent
And speaking of which
I cannot fully condemn you
Because you have yet to be convicted
But I refuse to take the word of someone
Just because they are ever so loved and reputable
Over fifteen women who were afraid.
Why would they come forward out of spite
Knowing the backlash would be gut-crushing
Fire-setting to the soul type of intense?
So, Bill,
Take your shame back
Take every bit of angst you instilled in these women back
Harbor it in your body
Let it fester under your skin
And rot away your soul.
Then maybe you will understand,
As will the world,
What it is like to be abused
By America's favorite family man.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
Talk is cheap
Money talks
Show it to me
And let me buy the lies at half price
The movement was passed
All objections were sustained
I was the only who abstained
But the motion was carried
Commotion in the streets
Protesters lying on the trail tracks waiting for the locomotive to come
Mistrial!
The tabloid business was in the black
The humanity department was in the red
And the guilty were in the clear
Even though the truth was out in the open
Behind closed doors the politicians, the judges and the lawyers shook hands and smile sipping on nefarious brandy
And now a murderer, a thief and a certified maniac are free to walk among us all and an innocent person who was at the wrong place at the wrong time is being put to death
Someone doesn't know how to add or subtract because the calculations of this case do not make sense
Or maybe it was planned by tactile suit and tie tyrants of law
Docile, dishonest
Yet, reputable
Coaxing in the courtroom
Dogs released on the rioting citizens outside
The rest of the jury's heads in the clouds
When a guiltless human being is facing the final curtain
The scandal is apparent because the judge has been know to enjoy ******* and young ******** clad women
On the surface I do not look like I've been driven up the wall
But I now fear of never waking up
The horror of unrest
I want to detach myself from this thing
These men jag their names into the wall of shame at the stag party
And allow three evil men go free and an unlucky man meet his end
I wish it wasn't all so technical
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
With legs intertwined
We lay in peace
Silently drifting into a land of dreams
One not nearly as reputable
As the one we’re already living
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 10:34 PM UTC
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
They say they inspire you.
The catalyst to your creation.
They blinded your view and stole your reflection.
A piece of your clarity was taken.
You and your vocal chords held no relationship anymore.
Voided were all of your reputable commitments you once made.
They took those pieces of your heart that were shedding like snake skin.
You were growing, you were changing.
What else did they expect?
They…were no inspiration, nor catalyst.
You were a pigment on the disastrous piece of art they had been creating.
Reduced to nothing, they expected you to be everything.
Forget they. Remember I.
I want you to fill those voids with self discovery.
I want you to rest your thoughts on the fact that you’ve found Love and she is the miracle to all of your disasters.
I want you to lift your head up, and repeat after me..
I, am still here.
I, inspire myself.
And that’s all I need.
Take your baggage and throw it off a cliff.
Start packing a new bag.
And label it “I AM ME”.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
When I go through my mind
Of the days past events
The days
Past experience
I sometimes think nothing has happened at all
Honks horns home and humming
Were all things to past the time
A time
That at the time did not seem to important
A head nod to a pretty lady
With eyes that would melt even the sun
That would ******* the world's strongest man
That would have Zeus stuttering for a number
Because
Where the God's falter
Men are born
Men flourish
Men believe they are victorious
What a hock
Of steaming
****
A fable is born from the naive minds of man
That tells them
With warm milk on the night stand
That these "achievements" are grand and reputable
That the difference is in the pudding
Yes
We have advanced quite a bit seen some things spoken some crude beauties
But what of the mountain in Parnassus
Where the dancing devils flute in hand played music
That no man, when heard, could stand
Where the beauty, where the sound, where the majesty
Was just to great to bear
Madness draws the one's that hear
The see
That touch
And that breathe
This beauty in
But it is a poison
It is a poison that makes fellows
Chop their fingers off
Eat paint
Walk head high into a river
Drink themselves to death
Waste away in some bed
But now
We praise the ones that create
Blood splattered portraits for the blind
We applaud the fuel man for the rising flame of the illusion of the human ego
And we love it
We adore it
We need it
We are addicted to
Ourselves
And we don't even know it;
Yet
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 9:56 PM UTC
A man from work
Is going to Vietnam.
I’ve been before.
I fell off a scooter.
I warned him:
‘Careful of those bikes.’
He winked.
He misinterpreted my advice.
I reminded him to get his jabs:
‘Yellow fever will get you.’
He winked.
He thought I was being blue.
I recommended a reputable masseuse:
‘Wonderful hands. Ask for Luu.’
He winked.
He misconstrued my review.
He told me:
‘My mission is to tan.’
‘Agent Orange,’ I joked.
He didn’t understand.
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 10:09 AM UTC
In this place where we lived there were
no doors, every room had a mirror.
A reflection of what was, is.
And each was unique to the observation
that was seen beyond the tinted
frame of creation.
Some places were, could be,
not a complete reflection of what was
contorted and beyond the conciseness
of tangibility.
For some places were either hairline fractured,
on purpose or by mistake, most of these had
warnings.
"REALITY DERUTCARF RETNE TON OD,
All who entered these were doing so at there
own health and life..
Some did it for the buzz, some weren't lucky..
The Mirror Collective,
that's a posh word for reflective reconstitutes.
Ladies and gents that fixed the flaws,
fragmented reflections that
could lead to either two version of reality..
An obituary of an abattoir,
where the breaks even though hairline
were like papercuts on the flesh.
And where they stood is where
the pieces collected upon each other..
Some rooms were purposely fractured,
for those who broke the rules
were kept in shard rooms..
These were places where others of less
reputable reflections were kept.
Solitary confinement,
there was just a jagged piece of mirror left,
enough space for a paper plate to be left.
Once there sentence was completed
The mirror collective would be called
to reconstitute the whole mirror..
If they were of sound constitution, not mad...
Then they were reintegrated in to the society..
What they didn't realise is
the lights of different frequencies
were purposely shone within there room.
Nearly all were unseen to the eye,
but were used to program them,
sublimely to have a more compatible persona.
Me I wants like those others, my reflection was
always polished. I would enter
a reflection and be the person who'd stepped
through a moment before.
We were a society mirrored on the refection
that everything was meant to be perfect.
But what we didn't realise that
every refection is distorted no matter how
perfect we think it is.
And the perfection we looked upon,
was cracked beyond our contemplation.
We were just slaves to the mirror of our own
egos..
But what ever you do don't look at the refection
staring behind you,
you looked....
I'm sorry.....
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 6:30 PM UTC
5/8/2019
I used to think I was doing good,
Then came, something to compare myself to.
If you only understood,
That has its ups and downs as my goto.
In one hand, I know where I can grow,
But in the other, I’m such a failure.
I inevitably will either plateau,
Or crash, or find my savior.
There are three outcomes I see,
Only one seems favorable,
The other two look so unfree,
These facts are surely averrable.
Thank God I’m among such quality people,
His will is the best place I can stand.
Not just stand – run! Even up a steep hill.
He’s put me here and I’m guided by His hand.
I will always look pretty decent,
If I compare to the right ones.
This is not new – not recent,
A tradition, on and on it runs.
Balance, a difficult achievement.
Either I’m feeling low or high.
My mind feels no bereavement,
But my emotion, I can’t quantify.
Side by side, I always scrutinize,
Am I on level with their standard?
The oil tanker of my pride, capsize.
As I drown, drag me landward.
God, If I compare to you, though,
I fail every time, incessantly.
An inimitable aspect ratio,
I fear I am done – dreadfully.
So why do you reach down,
And cover me with righteousness?
Not a lie, your reputable renown.
Ignore those whose words are libelous.
You show mercy to the worst,
When we humble our pride.
None are too far accursed,
We are righteous, you decide.
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 7:58 PM UTC
Being Okay ©
I wake up with a start, it is back and I know what it is!
Why else would I wake up at 3:00 a.m. in the morning?
Why else would my heart be racing?
Why else would my pulse be pacing?
It was not there when I went to bed.
It was not there last week or the week before.
It was not there last month or the month prior.
It was not there last year or many a year before that.
Suddenly it has ****** itself upon me.
Without warning it has slowly crept back into my life
and created stress and strife
Oh what a life
But I know the signs are there, that it is here
First my hair is not what it once was,
then I’m out of shape,
and next it’s the weight
From there the spiral continues,
the car I drive is now a wreck,
my home is no longer acceptable,
and my job no longer reputable
I don’t make enough money compared to the neighbors,
and the kids are doing me no favors with their behaviors
My dear is no longer a dear, and the grass on the other side
is looking so much greener
But there’s one thing for sure and I know
it well, that this is a life cycle that will oft repeat
So have a seat, as this too will pass to the other colored grass
and life will be once again okay
Andreas Simic©
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 10:07 AM UTC
A pristine reflection.
This picture worthy of frame.
The fretful smile.
Your perfect American Dream.
A hammer
He took to it.
The shards of glass
scattered about your bleeding toes.
But it’s okay.
It’s more beautiful this way.
**When the Light shines,
it goes where it is needed now.**
It’s more
than okay.
It’s true
noble
reputable
authentic
compelling
gracious.
It’s more than okay.
It is so much better this way.
In its brokenness,
it becomes complete.
So I thank Him
for the shatter.
For death was the start of life.
It’s more than okay.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC