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Jude kyrie Jan 2016
Ellen’s like a daisy
Jenny’s like a rose
Mary is like a dahlia
colorful and smart
But Angels like a lily
the nicest flower that grows
The lilies sweet white flowers
Just like the purest heart.

Three girls in my garden
I count them one two three
But only one a lily
And she’s the one for me

Sam is like a hollyhock
She stands so proud and tall
May is like a sweet pea
That grows upon the wall
Jane is like a gardenia
Calm and fair of face
But she is not a lily
And can’t cause
my heart to race

But my Angel she’s a lily
And the fairest of them all
One day I will marry her
when we are tall not small.
pick the right flower
jude
Michael Simpson Oct 2014
Sitting at home writing writing WRITING and the words dont flow
I sit while this muse doesn’t show.
I want to be unique I want to be original.
make this poem biblical.


I think in iambic.
And still the sirens in my skull stay silent of their sweet symphonies.
Trying to use figurative language,
Like a new born baby trying to use its new legs.
Putting my brain under an incubater,
Trying to force hatch ideas like eggs


Sitting in my room listening to slam
about to slam my head on the ground
bam bam bam!
Maybe write about corrupt uncle sam?
Try to be a shooting star and break the mold

But mold is gross
So I stay inside and remain quiet
And pretend that one day my slam might start a riot
Could I start a rebellion
And while fighting deppresion,
Could fight this opression,
of not being able to write this poem.
Raquel E Mar 2017
cleavage
         and a pitcher
                of Sam Adams
                              adapt
                      to the trap
                           of heels
                       that clasp
                          trespass
                   this roaring
                      rapture
                 roaming
             the streets
         your
             statuesque
                 figure
                   fractured
                       your
                          allure
                             in
                              a
                             strapless
                           dress
                        giving
                     more
                 for
            less
       I pass
I guess
Joanna Eliades Aug 2018
Looking up to one another
Protecting each other
Standing strong together
Always and forever

Our words often deep
inside we both felt weak
Finding comfort in each other
My best friend and my brother

He recently spoke of a light
After singing loudly and bright
In gods holy place
Where a group of pensioners gave him faith

God bless my darling Sam
A most wonderful man
I’ll fight through this pain
Till I see you again

Xxxx
A poem to remember my pal.. my partner in crime and my soul mate ...
Big Virge Oct 2014
EVERYDAY ... In this country ....
They're telling us ... LIES ... !!!!!
from Thatcher ... to ... Blair ....
To ... "Good Old" ... "HESELTINE" .....
  
So let me explain ....
why i've put this in rhyme ....
  
The army's had ... SECRETS ...
THEY ... "DON'T" ... talk about ... !!!
  
So read these words ... CLOSELY ... !!!
cos' now ... it's come ... " OUT " ... !!!
  
Policies on recruitment ....
were .... "STRICTLY" .... Defined ....
Black soldiers ... WEREN'T ... Welcome ... !!!!!
on ... "WHITE" .... Army Lines ...
  
They say it's been happening ...
Since .... NINETEEN FIFTY-SEVEN !!!!!
  
But somehow ... i'm thinking ...
it's been ... "ALL THE TIME" ....
  
This to me though ... is ... COOL ... !!!
and is ... NO SURPRISE ... !!!!!
it's just .... POSITIVE PROOF ....
of the ... LIES ... they've disguised ... !!!!!
  
as a youthful ... PROUD BLACK ... !!!!!
I REMEMBER ..... THE HATRED ..... !!!
and .... Racial Attacks .... !!!
  
There was ... "NEVER" ... ANY BLACK
in the ... UNION JACK ... !!!!!
These ... UNCLE TOM ... Blacks ....
Should ... "REMEMBER" ... THAT ... !!!!
  
They like to suggest ....
Black people are ... "*****" ... !!!
  
Well, YES ... that is ... TRUE ...
  
"SOME" ... Black people ... ARE ... !!!
  
But it's ... WHITE GIRLS ... I see ....
who like ... "****" ...
Up Their ... **** ... !!!!!!
  
So ...........
for them .... to say ....
English people ... have ... " CLASS " ... !?!?!
is just ... "ONE MORE LIE" ....
and is truly .... A .... FARCE !!!!!!
  
Now this thing with ... "Armed Forces"
NOT wanting ... "us ... BLACKS" ... !!!!!
is ... "Cool with me !!!" ... but ... !!!???!!!
when ... MUSLIMS ... " ATTACK " ....
  
They'd better believe .....
They should ... COVER ...
Their Backs ... !!!!!
  
Cos' ... THE TRUTH ... is out now ...
and this ... I DO ... BACK ... !!!!
  
The Army ... SHOULD ...
...... " ETHNICALLY " ......
Cleanse OUT ... The Blacks .... !!!!!!!!!!
  
Oh they'll be ... ALRIGHT ... !!!
when their army's ... ALL WHITE ... !!!
  
So to those who hate ... ******* ...
have a read of ... The Words ...
in the ... FOLLOWING ... Verse ...
  
Go fight your own fights ... !!!!!
cos' Black people have died ....
"PROTECTING" ... YOU Whites ... !!!!!
  
who suggest that ... us ... BLACKS ....
Shouldn't have ... Civil Rights ... !!!!!!!
  
My feeling is that .....
STEPHEN LAWRENCE ... Is ... ONE ....
whose family ... "SUFFERED" ...
from an ... English Law ... CON ... !!!
  
Film footage did show ....
Those White .... HOOLIGANS .... !!!!!!
were ... READY ... to ... **** ... !!!
Any Black ... and just ... Run ...!!!...
  
But when court time came ....
They were given ... FREEDOM ... !???!
  
Well ....
To Stephen's ... DAD ...
and to ... Stephen's ... MUM ...
  
I'm writing this verse ....
cos' the way it was ... Handled ...
was ... "TOTALLY" ... " WRONG " ... !!!!!!
  
See .... The BBC showed ....
How .... Police Training ... goes !!!
  
That ... " Racists " ... get recruited ... !!!
and ... "WELCOMED" ... to the ... FOLD ... !!!!!
  
But People ... Only Know ...
cos' the ... "HIDDEN CAM" ... Showed ...
that .... RACISM'S .... hidden ....
like ... "COVETED" ... Gold ....
and that's when ... THE RACISTS ...
be acting .... ALL BOLD .... !!!!!
  
But catch them ....
on ... Their Own ...
when their ... "BNP Buddies" ...
are sitting ... AT HOME ... !!!
  
In Black Company ....
They're in ... " THE DEADZONE " ... !!!!!
  
They Quickly ... Transform ...
into .... " ALI G ... mode " .... !!!
  
"I've got LOADS of Black friends ...
so ... what's happening bro !!!???!!!"
  
Meantime we are told ....
"EQUALITY" ..... is in sight .... !!!
  
Now I ... DON'T LIKE ... using
"EXPLETIVES" .... when I write ... !!! ...
But ... i've got to say ... THIS ...
  
"That ain't ... ******* RIGHT ... !!!!!"
  
So ...  i'm fighting ...
...... RACISM ......
These Days ......
when I ... WRITE ...
  
while Police just ... DELIGHT ...
in ... beating Black Folks ....
til they're .............
  
"BLACKER than ....
  
NIGHT" .... !!!!!
  
Can this really be right ... !!!?!!!
  
These ... RACIST ... whites .... ARE ....
  
OHhhhhhh ...... Soooo ..... POLITE ... !!!
  
But ...
Don't want to ... "INVITE" ...
A time or place ....
where ... BLACK and WHITE ...
Can ... Try to... "UNITE" ......
  
But .... it's okay now ....
cos' Blacks be acting like ... Whites ....
now they're in the ... " LIMELIGHT " ...
  
Every ******* ... is ... "BLINGING" ....
with ... Custom Made ... Jewellery ...
  
"Correction" ..... ofcourse ....
that line should say .... "ICE" ....
  
See ... we ... DON'T ... Talk About....
Our .... "HUMAN" .... BLACK LICE ... !?!?!?!
  
Those ... " KILLING " ... Their Brothers ....
just for a slice ....
.... of ....
  
" Uncle Sam's Pie " ......
  
Well ....
The same rules ... apply ... !!!
  
The U.S. .... just wants them ...
to ... lay down ... and ... DIE ... !!!
  
cos' they ... Like The ... " British " ...
are just ... " FULL OF LIES " .... !!!!!
  
The UK's what ... I know ...
but this ... " LIE " .... Titled Prose ....
just goes to show .....
whether ...  HERE or THERE ....
The same **** ... flows ... !!!!!!!!!
  
From the ... LIES ... that they feed ....
to ... THOSE TRUTHS ... still ...
  
.............  "UNTOLD" ................ ???????
  
But ... NOW ... we've been told ....
  
Will Blacks ... "BREAK THE MOULD ?"
  
Well .... Probably ... NOT ... !!!?!!!
cos' ... most now ... have ... SOLD ...
Their ... TRUE SELVES ... behind ...
  
cos' now ... they're ... refined ...
and are ... STUCK ... in a Bind ...
B'cos' ... what they've ... Believed ...
Now ... leaves them ... " BEHIND " ...
  
THAT ...  Rock and Hard Place ... !!!
with visions ... " MISPLACED " ...
without .... recognizing ....
"NEW PROBLEMS" .... we face ... !!!
  
cos' ... White Moguls ... now know ...
what makes ... "*******" ... Break ... !!!
  
A Nice ..... Fancy Car .....
and .... *** .... on a plate ... !!!!!!
  
So ... YES ... Some DUMB ...
........ " ******* !!!" ..........
have ... Quickly ... got ... A.I.D.S .... !!!!!
  
cos' of ****** ... they've been ...
.......... " Bedding !!! " ..........
by their ... New ... Fireplace ... !!!
whilst telling ..... "LIES" ..... !!!
to their ..... Wives ......
  
Maaaannn .........
That ... ****'s ... A DISGRACE ... !!!!!
  
See ... this is a ... Trait ...
that now makes me ... Irate ... !!!!!
  
Some White Girls be .... "ACTING" ...
like .... "Black men are ... GREAT" ... !!!
  
But .......
"CANNOT" ..... take them ....
back to .... "Daddy's Place" ... !!!?!!!
cos' ... The Truth ...
then comes ... OUT ... !!!
  
They'd get a ... SLAP ... !!!
in their ..... FACE ..... !!!!!!!!!
  
B'cos daddy's ... Not Happy ... !!!!!
with the thought of his daughter ...
as a lamb to ... "BLACK SLAUGHTER" ....
  
cos' ... sounds that she's making ....
  
Sounds like *** ...
is ... " Pure TORTURE !!!!! "
  
and that's when his ...
  
"Lies and Untruths"
get ........ "Found Out"  ... !!!
cos' now her ... Black Boyfriend ....
gets treated like ... "GOUT" ... !!!
  
See ... These ... are the ... "LIES" ...
We ... "DON'T" ... talk about ... !!!
  
But ... This is ... "THE TRUTH" ....
  
coming out of ... My Mouth ...
or ... if you're a ... Reader ...
Yes .... Out of ... MY HANDS ...
  
Just think about this ......
and you'll ..... "OVERSTAND" ... !!!
that ... LYING .... comes easy ... to ...
..... "TRUE" ..... Englishman ... !!!
  
But .... LYING .....
...... to me .....
I now ... "OVERSTAND" ... !!!
  
It's fed ... YES ... to ... Man ...
and ... YES ... to ... Woman ...
  
to keep us from being ....
  
" UNITED " .....
  
..... as ......
  
" PEOPLE " .....
  
These things ...
  
" I BELIEVE ! " ....
  
have always been ...
  
" PLANNED "
  
cos' if people .... "UNITE" ....
The Divisions .... would ....
  
............. " DIE " .................
  
and then ...
People Like ..... "YOU" ......
and ... People Like ... " I " ...
  
could ... finally see ...
  
"THE TRUTH" ....
  
From the ...
  
.... " LIES " ....
  
Peace y'all and Recognise !!!!!
Seems like the Brits aren't the only ones, but, they do like to tell some whoppers !!!!!
America is bleeding,
her streets are running red.
They're running out of places
to pile up all the dead.
Uncle Sam is smoking,
pockets fat with oil and gas;
when will Lady Liberty
hold that flame under his ***?

America is bleeding,
a badge stuck in her chest,
can't defend a head wound
behind a kevlar vest.
And Justice wears a blindfold,
but it works kinda funny.
She can see right through it
if you have the money.

America is bleeding,
and now her children see
right on through the smokescreens
into her hypocrisy.
While high atop the flagpole
Old Glory's Stars stained red.
If we don't stop the bleeding,
We're gonna end up dead.
laurie Jul 2014
Trying to move on and live a normal life
surrounded by the struggle, mental illness is rife.

let me be me, don't torture me for who I am,
I'm not nelson mandella my name is Sam.

I do what I can to survive this infliction,
it's not my fault you have a drug addiction.

I'm not to blame for your past, remember you created me,
you need to get real, this is something you must see

Treat me like a hater I ain't got no respect,
family or not there's a cause and effect.

Narcissist you thrive on the control,
Jekyll in Hyde your suited to the role.

Remember you chose this path,
now I'm feeling the vengeance of your wrath.

I can't deal with this pain any longer,
it's stopping me from living, I need to get stronger.
An empty page. The insufferable debate.
An infernal task? The everlasting trait?
A blank check? A clean slate?
The inkwell pond.  Pen and nib. Rod and bait.

Over-caffeinated.
Under-appreciated.
Anger encapsulated by the shortness of my replies.
I'm exasperated by the amount of attempts and all the tries.


Code Scrambled. Wires crossed. Software and hardware not integrated.
Emotions and objects being wrongly correlated.
Places and faces being traded.
Thoughts and feelings segregated.
Process of progress imitated.
Utterly inundated.
Brain cells being immolated
So that my mind and my soul can become assimilated.  
Self-worth: Underestimated.
These points are not to be debated.

Swoon confused with brood.
A smiling clown dances around the center ring.
Inside he's centering his self around the latitude and longitude of
The highest hilltops of Mt. Pisspoorattitude.
Without the slightest shred of gratitude towards any good deed done for him past the 5 minutes of thank you that he spouts off at the peak of the mountain.
If at first you don't succeed, just cry and cry again.

The concept rocket pulls the cap off the the pen sprocket
Ink spews everywhere. A shiny black geyser erupts from the rig.
Men shouting back and forth to one another. There's no way to contain it. We've sprung a leak, the oil is in our water. The oil is our blood.
Erasing, no, smearing. No control. No Z's either. Analog ****-ups.
Chasing my tail, driving the same circuit.
Racing as Yoshi with a broken control stick

I've had a hell of a time on Uncle Sam's dime.
I disappeared behind the words written on my mirror long ago.
Am I a wreck or is this the requiem of my dreams?
Only A Week
I keep myself out of where I am.
I am not here.
I am not me.
I’m in Camp Half-Blood, a child of one of the gods
I’m in Hogwarts, an amazingly talented witch
I’m in the Arena, the smartest tribute of all
I’m in Beacon Hills, a gorgeously tough werewolf
I’m in the Impala, a hunter that even Sam and Dean look up to
I’m everywhere, anywhere but here
I’m everyone, anyone but me
Right?
Right?
Right?
RIGHT?
Dave Hardin Oct 2016
A White Man’s Prayer

Lord send me a champion
inarticulate as a mouthful
of scalding gumbo, smart

as two left shoes, windier
than a kettle of my Uncle Larry’s
chili, one who talks

tough around the silver
spoon in his mouth
sane as an *****

grinders monkey, a real
Yankee Doodle Dandy
plenty handy with the girls

honest as the day is long
in Lapland in December
an hombre who knows

how it feels to be top rail
at breakfast, bottom rail
by bedtime, big hearted

to his legions of lessors
his betters nothing more
than vicious rumor, Lord

knows my first choice
Yosemite Sam
is also a cartoon.
Jaymi Swift Feb 2013
For I am not who you would be.
And you are not who I would be.
Can't we just disagree,
Without starting World War Three?

For I do not do what you do.
And you do not do what I do.
This is a fact, I know it's true
So why talk till we turn blue.

For I kick you, then you kick me,
Then you hit me, and I hit you.
Some think that's how things should be.
Well excuse me, I STRONGLY DISAGREE.

Now Uncle Sam has had his way.
I think it's time I had a say.
This world is ONE, and it is dying.
I for one am tired of crying.

Let's stop this **** and get along.
People it's time for a brand new song.

Peace out
Trevor Gates Apr 2013
Walking back onto the street around nine O’clock
Pizzerias, Clubs and white guys with dreadlocks
Moving like sea urchins with an urge to mock
Hey 2 for one at Roxy’s for black rubber *****

I’m carrying two bags of groceries; One with a pie
There are no stars in the city. Just the moon in the sky
I move lazily and tired as evening joggers pass by
“God I wish I was more active.” I say with a sigh.

I ascend the stairs because the **** elevator is broken
One flight. Two flight. ******* wood surely is oaken
2 minutes of climbing the obstacle that’s unspoken.
I suffer for being the Asian, the part-Korean token.

I reach my apartment, music playing through the wall
I feel worn out and about ready to fall
But I walk in and proceed, feeling anything but tall.
The time has come. I walk to the kitchen from the hall.

I live with three roommates: Sam, Dean an Owen.
Sam is shut in his room. He’s a DJ and I think Samoan
Dean is weird. Don’t ask about flagellated protozoan
And Owen is a reader and blogger. Just plain Owen.

I place the groceries on the counter, I stumble.
Owen is reading and I hear him mumble
“Did you say something?” I grumble
“Wrong Pie.” He says, his words fumble.

“What?” I don’t understand

   “Wrong pie.” Owen says again.
I point towards the pie on the table. “What, this?”
    “Yeah.” He says.
    “What’s wrong with it?”
    “Everything.”
    “Like what?”
    “Well, it’s the wrong pie.”
    “How?”
    “It’s apple.”
    “Yeah, so?”
    “But I thought you were going to get cherry?”
I shrug my shoulders, “Yeah but they were out.”
    “Where did you go?” Owen asked, but he knew.
    “Just that corner market.”
    “Well why the hell did you go there, you know they don’t have **** there.”
    “Does it matter?  I got most of the things.”
    “Yeah, most.  Not all.  You didn’t get the right pie.”
    “Does it matter?” I tell him. Owen closes his book.
    “I think so.”
    “At least I got a pie.  You guys said, ‘Hey man, make sure you get a pie’. You didn’t say get a ******* cherry pie!”
    I try to calm down, but the blasting of dubstep remixes warp my thinking process.  Owen leaves the kitchen and knocks on the doors. He tells them I’m back and that I ******* up the groceries.
“I did no such thing!” I yell, “You ***** think you told me what to get but you’ll all too into yourselves to ever know what the *******’re saying and you come off as ignorant over-privileged *******! Yeah Owen you’re so unique” I mock sarcastically, “Must be why you dress exactly the same as every other hipster here, going online and vlogging about the same **** a 12 year-old in suburban America would talk about and his ***** probably haven’t even dropped.”
    Owen’s eyes are wide, never seeing this side of me before. Sam and Dean open their doors to see all the commotion.
I walk back in to the kitchen and grab the pie.
    “Here *******!” I toss the pie as hard as I can so it hits the ceiling. The tin tray falls to the ground and the apple crusted pie is splattered, stuck to the ceiling like an IKEA fan made of butchered apples.
    I open the door.  “Dubstep is just edited noises of transformers having ***!”
I slam the door and leave, walking back downstairs and onto the street


Roommates ******* ****. I was tired of their **** and rules.
They used me for their homework, Working me like a mule
I’m barely able to pass my classes, let alone graduate from school
So trivial to help them just to earn my cool.

I flipped up my hood and rushed through the streets
I didn’t know where I was going, I didn’t care who I’d meet
A slice from Death Metal Pizza, a drink from Fat man Pete.
I need to let loose. Relax and take that invigorating leap.

I stumbled upon an old movie theater, playing classics, new and old
“I want tickets for all the shows.” To the box office I told.
I bought popcorn and milkduds. I think my chair had mold.
And watched as Al Pacino was out of jail; being paroled.

Carlito’s Way, then intermission
A glimmer of previews then Pulp Fiction.
Ezekiel 25:17 and blasts of omission
From Jules’ and Vincent’s handgun ammunition  

After the credits roll I get three hot dogs and a large soda
Next movie: The Evil Dead, enough to put me in a coma
AH ******* demons Killing like the cancer of lymphoma
Scaring me and making me spill my watered-down cola.

Next was the Monty Python to ease the chills
Ensuring talking fish, puking and hilarious thrills
I really enjoyed the collective animation stills
I was relieved from the films and I had my fills

Now I had a good place to come and let loose, relax and laugh
And I wouldn’t have to display my clustered, boiled wrath
To my ******* roommates. Maybe I’ll move out on their behalf
We’ll see how it plays out. I’ll write a “*******” graph.

But thanks to them I found a new way to survive
Which is better than the alternative; a desperate suicide
Watching movies late at night is better for me than to die
All ascertained from the incident of the wrong ******* pie.
Please forgive me for that middle section just being a straight narrative.  I thought it would add comedic effect. This whole thing started out as a short story. I was converting everything to the rhyming scheme but I just loved what I originally had for that part that I just kept it like it was.

Lot's of fun in this one. i couldn't help but laugh to myself some of the ridiculous rhymes (or lack of) I was trying to squeeze in.

Good references in here to Pulp Fiction, Carlito's Way, Monty Python's The Meaning of Life and The Evil Dead.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2015
Take one step forward
And two steps back.
Be sure you are following
The corporate track.
Pay out your earnings
Never give a ****
Now you are doing
The Uncle Sam Scam.

Bend right over and
Touch your own toes.
The politicians mostly can’t
And that’s how it goes.
They get their money
And big raises too.
Just like the CEOs
But none for you.

Take one step forward
And two steps back.
Be sure you are following
The corporate track.
Pay out your earnings
Never give a ****
Now you are doing
The Uncle Sam Scam.

Social Security funds
Came in mighty handy
When Georgie wanted war
And it was a dandy.
It made money for
His favorite buddies
And made our country’s rep
Murderously muddy.

Take one step forward
And two steps back.
Be sure you are following
The corporate track.
Pay out your earnings
Never give a ****
Now you are doing
The Uncle Sam Scam.

If you think more of CEOs
And big money corporations
Than you do of the people
Suffering in our nation
And you keep voting for jerks
And overrated hams
You are becoming champions
Of the Uncle Sam Scam.
KATIE666 Apr 2013
I don't like this reality I live in
I do not like it with its "Fox News"
I do not like it with any false facts

I do not like this President Obama
I do not like his ad campaign
I dislike having my rights revoked

He does not care
here or there
I don't think he cares anywhere!

I want my rights
right here
and right now!

I do not like Obama's Change
I do not like this Uncle Sam!

I do not like the rules or ways
Look out world here I come
with diversity and wayward thinking
This is my flag
these are my new ways

If I don't like the change in the world
then I will be the change that I want to see
so let me be
Let me live
in the land that was once free
Obama can keep his change
I can provide my own
Wm Joe McDonald Jul 2015
PROCRASTINATION
By
Joe McDonald

Part I:

How often can I keep putting off everything in life that must be done to the point of frustration and despair?  

How often will my work sit and stare at me with the eyes of hungry children always whining their demands for my attention to each task always wanting my full being beyond my own inner abilities and doubt?

How often can I walk past the damaged concrete step on my own house that sneers at me everyday as I walk up to my front door?

How often can I make promises to old friends to get together, celebrate life, and not expect them to wait on my return call of cancelation because of illusionary diseases?

How often can I feign in my backyard the beauty of my roses, sipping white grape while the grass under my bare feet remains brown, coarse, and over grown with dandelions stifling all vegetation?

How often can I pledge my good faith to a worthy cause by ending up watching from the back row as the needs prosper or fail regardless of my lack of motivation?

How often will constant kicking of the can down the yellow brick road be considered the excellence of a long line of Shakespearean resumes?

How often will my lack of courage blind me to opportunities of abundance and force my family to a life of stagnant economic asperity?

How often will I consent to others disrespect of my mastery of skills to the verge of closing my mind to all that is important to dwell in a soup of anger, self-doubts, and ache?

How often will the peeling paint, blistering off of my house like shards of cheese at my wedding feast, augment my anguished indifference finding every physical, spiritual, and any other of a multitude  of “…Why not’s…” festering in my dome of “..Do it tomorrow’s…”?

How often can I rattle my saber of position, roar my battle cry of “Tomorrow” to postpone today’s tasks? Bundling them all into neat piles of future promise completions. All the time smiling a grin of a used car salesman.


How often can I sit on my couch on sunny Saturday mornings enjoying the sun rise? Its beams slowly sliding across the finished oak; warming my unkempt hovel to the boiling point that tuffs of unwanted cat fur dancing over the varnished grain like tumbleweeds in a Sam Pechinpah film. Yet, I sip my morning brew, acknowledging their existence but, my head movies are of other unattended illusions.

How often can my inability to act or respond be accepted by those who expect perfection in all things?

How often can I permit the disappointment of a moment fire the indifference toward the needs of the here and now?

How often will my journey up my front walk be changed from the joy of daffodils and hyacinths filling the air with aromas of lung cleansing delights only to rediscover the pine foliage  are still dressed in the lights of Christmas past?

How often will I put off leading because of failure of seeing the needs of those who need leadership? They cry out for direction but, plead for independence. I use the pleas to drown out the cries.

How often will I have the epiphany of a lifetime only to have inaction and fear
drag it down to the bowels of an enlighten brain ****?



Part II:

I keep plugging in the mechanism of delay to power the animal of the moment.

I blind myself over and over and over and over again again again again to my abilities of now in favor of promises of later.

I smell success in the air every time I do the nows but, the stench of celebration’s to come is easer, sweater, more in line with who I am and not who I want to be.

I hear the praise and accolades of present victories and in time I’ll drag my triumphs out over the gravel road of time until they have lost their luster.

I’ll blindly stare at the tube of adult babysitting, at images of various eye candies trying to escape my own drive to do and yet failing in this as well.

I can’t spit out the bitter taste of the act of putting everything off nor drown it in the wine of determination without repeated reminder that I am drinking from the same cup of vintage to come.

I spend much needed dollars and valued hours gorging myself on self-help aids and assistance. Only they too become part of the beast’s feast of my misused time.

I awake every Monday with dreams of a new but, I’m so accessible to countless distractions. By Friday I face the inevitable doom of looking back over the landscape of a week gone up in the flames of the undone.

I try to grab each day by its throat. Choke out the desired results. Only it offers the slights resistance and I let it go to torment me from its lair growling “…not now, not now, not now…”

I’ll spend time with my mate for life. Half of me is relishing the moments with her. Half is wandering over the tablets of what I haven’t done.

I have mismanaged, misused, balled up, blundered, fouled up, mishandled, muddled, muffed, spoiled, and fumbled the footballs of my life again and again avoiding all that has to be done now driven farther down the boulevard. Constantly stopping at any insignificant store front; staring at juvenile trinkets of distraction.

I have sinned over and over again. I offer prayers to anyone who will listen. Begging for the enlightenment to solve my weakness. “… quia pecccavi nimis cogitatione verbo et in cogitations, et in hoc opera, quod ego facere non, mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa…”



Part III:

Who else do I have to make suffer in confused patience waiting for the promised end results of my superficial excellence?

What has to be done to make me arise from the ash of self doubt, indecision, and fear to conquer this demon within my psyche?

Where are the answers I seek in my time of apathy?

Why has this inferior deity have such a grasp on me?

When! Again, when!!! When will I face this issue and start to find the peace of timely attainment?






(“… that I have sinned through my own fault in my thoughts and my words, in what I have done and what I have failed to do, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault…”)
Part IV:

I have lived with this for over a half century.
Trying to climb out of the hole of misused time.
Falling back into my penitentiary.
Serving a sentence of intimate crime.


The venting is complete, pity-pats written down.
My confession exposed for all to share, witness.
If this public sacrament exposes me a clown.
Mock away; have your jest. For I could care less.


My Ginsberg rant is to open doors of avowals.
To aid in my cure; in hope start my salvation.
To trust myself; to believe in oneself. I am all.
To look into the morning glass willing a reincarnation.


Only I can face the beast and make it heel.
Down inside I have to find the straight for each day.
Try a new, lighter approach; a new Don Marquis feel.
“…procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday…”




April 2014
"I gave her a hand full of kisses, she
then shed a tear.
Her head moved gently into my chest
Speaking softly. "I never want to move
from here."
Never feeling love before, That's what
Foster homes do, but now she's mine in
My arms to a FAMILY to come home to.
Adoption is such a wonderful experience
to live.
Happy eyes beam like the sun.
My wife, mine, and our 11 year young
Girl we named, Sam."
Ardent Bowel Dec 2012
Love is a ***** soup going stale but steaming like it's brand new;
And I'm Oliver twist walking up to the *** with a rusty spoon full of desire and hope asking for more but getting none.

Love is a Doctor gathering dead bodies and shackling them up in chains;
And I'm a green freak with Frankenstein bolts ****** through my head walking around with only a mumble to muster trying to love people who just want to run away.

Love is a white paper rolled so finely, full of sedatives and drugs;
And I'm sitting by a fire reaching in for a log to smoke.

Love is puzzle made by Einstein and Sam Loyd;
And I'm a child with eyes made of glass and hands made of thorns crying to my mother because that puzzle is a *****.

Love is Navy Seal training on a beach covered in cold water spilling blood for a chance;
And I'm a ***-smoking hippie who holds up signs and tells soldiers they’re monsters as I take a puff of death.

Love is a ten-syllable word compacted into one;
And I'm a hooked on phonics children’s thesaurus struggling to find a comparison that I can actually pronounce.

Love is a white egg timer sitting on the fridge set to all nines;
And I'm a busy housewife waiting to cook dinner at the sound of its bell.

Love is a robber with a 45 in his belt;
And I'm an eager dad trying to protect his family with a wooden stick.

Love is hot coffee from a luxury beverage shop;
And I'm a plastic party cup melting away.

Love is a doctor with a PHD in heart surgery;
And I'm a sick child waiting with his mother with no healthcare ******* on a free doctor’s-office lollypop.

Love is a huge pink eraser;
And I'm a graphite pencil struggling to write while me and the eraser fight.

Love is a pickup truck speeding through town drunk;
And I'm a lost puppy running through the same intersection looking for my owner.

Love is meant for fish;
And I'm a bird.
© ardent bowel
http://ardentbowel.wordpress.com
Ngizwe kuvuka usinga kwathi angibhale
ngesizulu
Bathi ayibe isazekeka uma isinkulu...
Ngicinge amagama alula okuloba lendaba, le
ndoda yathi izongilobola, angazangake ukuthi
kanti nangomlomo sekuyalotsholwa...
Aybo phela mina le ndoda yangthembisa!
Igama uNomathemba odabuka eMzumbe..
Hhay limnandi iTheku ..ungezwa ngabantu
bethi.. phela mina lana ngidla ama fish and
chips ..anginichomeli phela mina
bengizijwayelele umdumbulu namadumbe..
ekhaya eMzumbe..
Aybo phela mina lendoda yangthembisa..
Sengazitholela uThemba.. Loluthando lunginika
ithemba! UNtuli wam' ! Ugodide ! Ofake izinyo
legolide.. Ngyamthanda uMphemba wam' !
Phela yena ulithemba lam' !
Ngimenze uNkulunkulu, ngamnika lonke uqobo
lwam'
Wangenza ibhange lakhe, wangnika yonke imali
yakhe..
Uthe angeke angiphule inhliziyo, akasoze adlala
ngemizwa yam'
Ngamtshena ukuthi angisiwo ulayini wokuhola
iqolo angeke ngimmoshele isikhathi sakhe..
Ihhe angikazikhohlwa izethembiso zakhe..
Ethi uzongenza umkakhe.. :/
Aybo phela mina lendoda yangthembisa!
Amagama angbiza ngawo amnandi, ethi
ngimuhle ngathi ngigeza ngedanoni
Ekhuluma ngama bhanoyi, ama private jet,
phela lana sasi planner umshado wethu and my
wedding dress..
Ngazigcina ngifunda eNyuvesi yaka Zulu..
Angsayaz ngisho I timetable yama class..
Phela mina shangane lakaMakwakwa sengzobe
umfazi womzulu..
...Ngaphuma ekhaya ngiyofuna ulwazi
olunzulu.. Zulu khuzani niyabuka elikaMthaniya
elihle lifa phambi kwenu ..bheka njalo ekhaya
banamathemba ngam'..
Ngakhetha ukwanelisa uThemba ngakhohlwa
ngezidingo zam'.. Ngazikhohlwa izifiso zabazali
bam'..
ERes ngahlala inyanga eyodwa ..phela mina
senghlala ehotela... Lol angisiye umculi kodwa
ungangbiza nge 'Hotel queen' ..
....................... -- ........... -
- ..........................................
Langa limbe ngavuka ngaphuthaza
..ngaphuthaza embhedeni.. UThemba
akekho..ngivuke ngiye e
bathroom..akekho..ngimshayele ucingo..his
number doesn't exist.. Ngimelwe
yingqondo..ngicinge khabetheni lezingubo
izimpahla zakhe azikho :| .. Ngimemezise
okohlanya 'Themba ! Themba ! ' Pho ke
izindonga ezine zingigqolozele, zingabuye
zenzenjani?
Ithemba lam' lingishiyile ngizokwezenjani?
Aybo phela mina lendoda yangthembisa!
Iphelile I semester yokqala, kwamele
ngiphindele ekhaya.. Ngizwile ngomngan' ethi
aphumile ama result.. Awami
ngizowathathaph' ..
ND>>eMzumbe
-- -- -_- 'Nomathemba'ukube bayaz
ngemikhuba yam' ngabe abangijabuleli kanjena
.. Uphasile koda, yebo mama ngamalengiso..
:/ ..
Aybo phela mina le ndoda yangthembisa!
Ay ingibelesele le flue,
Umkhuhlane onje angiwazi..
Sengkhwehlela negazi..
....Ngyonda..kodwa isisu sami si.. Hhay
ngisuthi.. Ya ngisuthi.. Cha bakwethu ngisuthi..
Yekani isisu sam' ngisuthi.. Yebo ma ngondiswa
izifundo ngifunda kanzima.. Cha asisikhulu isisu
sam' ng gqoke I jacket enkulu..
..Ziyahamba izinsuku ngagula kakhulu ..
Dokotela, umkhuhlane wam' awupheli ..
Ukhulelwe.. 5 weeks ..aybo! Mina angeke..
'Angikaqedi, unegciwane.. Ingabe uyamazi
umuntu okuwuye oku ..Themba!! Ubani?
Nomathemba, Nomathemba vuka!
Saphuma isisu.. Ngafa mina.. Lashabalala
ikusasa lam' .. Aphela amathemba abazali bam'
ababenawo ngam' .. Kwaphela ngam' Themba
waze wadlala ngam' ..
Izethembiso zakho ..
Owangithembisa zona
Mphemba wam' wangthembisa..
Paul d'Aubin Oct 2013
Le cri d'Alep ; ce principe   d’égalité dénié entre les Humains qui nous interpelle  

Combien sont-ils réfugiés dans les caves
À tromper provisoirement la mort
en se promettant une vie meilleure, où leur voix soit entendue
ou en songeant au paradis promis aux martyrs ?

Et ce cinéaste kurde qui vivait à Paris et voulait voler des images à l’anonymat de la grande faucheuse.
Il est parti là-bas muni de l'espoir fou que parfois les images savent atteindre le cœur des hommes.
Certains les appellent des «Djihadistes» et tremblent pour leur propre liberté d’opinion, pour les femmes qui sont traitées comme moins que rien par une masculinité égarée et pour leur rêve d’un nouveau «Califat» qui relève plus d’une blessure historique que d’un projet concret et réalisable.

D’autres défendent tout simplement un même « droit des gens» pour tous les êtres sur la Planète
Pourquoi être né Arabe, Juif, Kurde ou noir ou même apatride, devrait-il à jamais vous rendre la vie plus précaire et vous priver du Droit de choisir vos gouvernants ?
Il fut un temps où des évêques catholiques bénissaient les armes des troupes de Franco et appelaient à libérer l’Espagne des «rouges».
Il fut un temps où l’on enfermait dans le camp du Vernet les courageux combattants des «brigades internationales» ; ceux venus de tous les lieux du Monde qui ne croyaient pas en Allah mais avaient bien une forme de foi terrestre.
Durant ce temps Orwell, Hemingway, Malraux, ceux de la brigade Lincoln, les poètes de vingt ans assassinés tels, Sam Levinger, mort à Belchite, et Joseph Seligman, lors de la bataille du Jarama. Ils avaient vingt ans. Et bien d’autres quittèrent leur quiétude pour défendre l’Humanisme et l’Humanité aux prises avec les cris du «Viva la Muerte» des fascistes.

Que l’on m’explique, aujourd’hui pourquoi, la circonstance de naître dans le croissant fertile devrait vous valoir la servitude à vie et supporter un dirigeant criminel qui va qu’à user du gaz «sarin» contre une partie de sa propre Peuple qui le ***** ?
Et de vivre perpétuellement et sans espoir que cela ne change dans le servage de régimes militaires et de tyrans corrompus ?
La question de la Religion et des «communautés» ne masque-t-elle pas une comptabilité inégalitaire et sordide faite entre les hommes qui vivent sur une même planète ?
Là, en terre d’Islam, vous seriez condamnés à courber le dos entre le bâton et les balles du policier ou la vision et les sermons réducteurs des théocrates et de ceux qui osent se nommer : «Le parti de Dieu» ?
Qui ose ainsi trancher dans l’Humain et réduire le besoin et le souffle des Libertés à certains Peuples ; blancs et riches, de préférence ?

Allons mes ami(e)s, n’oublions pas le message universel des Hume, Paine, Voltaire, Hugo, d’Hemingway qui permit à nos anciens de prendre les Bastilles.
Le Droit à la vie et à la liberté n’est pas d’un continent, ni d’une couleur de peau, ni d’une religion ; il est Universel comme le sourire du jeune enfant à sa mère.
Assez de discriminations et d’hypocrisies ; dénonçons l’imposture des tyrans et les veules par trop intéressés qui nous voudraient taisant et tranquilles.
Il est un «Monde nouveau» qui ne demande qu’à grandir et à vivre si bien sûr, on ne le tue pas avant ou si on ne lui met pas le bâillon.
Ami(e)s ne te fait pas dicter ta conduite par ceux qui sont payés pour écrire que l’ordre immuable doit toujours se perpétuer.
Ose ouvrir les yeux même aux spectacles les plus insoutenables et entendre ce long chœur de gémissements qui est l'Humanité souffrante dont tu fais intrinsèquement partie toi-même, avec les mêmes droits et devoirs.
C’est l’Humanité souffrante qui frappe, devant l’écran de ton téléviseur quand ta journée de travail finie tu t’assoupis et il est trop facile et fallacieux de te dire que des spécialistes vont régler les problèmes à ta place.
Hélas si tous raisonnent ainsi ; rien ne bougera et les Tyrans succéderont aux Tyrans comme les malédictions de Job.
Peut-être ta faible voix comme celle du rouge-gorge doit se mêler à la symphonie du Monde pour qu'enfin puissent tomber les préjugés entre les êtres et les murailles de Jéricho ?

Paul d’Aubin (Paul Arrighi (Historien, Homme de Lettres et Poète) - Toulouse, Toulouse (France) le mardi  1er  octobre  2013.

Paul Arrighi, à Toulouse, (Historien, Homme de Lettres et Poète)
I just got home after seeing the documentary movie called the Australian dream which is about Adam Goodes who was my favourite player back in the day and I saw that he was a victim of racial bullyism which was discraceful I never knew that, that kind of racism exists in this modern times and I learnt that people weren’t looking at it as being racist but they were being racist and those people need to be taught a lesson in being moral, I never watched the footy show afl much because it was boring but Sam Newman needs to be taught a big lesson in racism because what he did was racist and Adam Goodes was just sticking up for himself because these words really hurt him, I just remember Goodesy for the great player he is, and I continued to support him as he really won the match for Sydney swans and people shouldn’t hate him because he is black because nobody booed tony Lockett and Warwick capper even if they had weird ways as well Lockett used to nudge a bit and capper used to wear short shorts and they supported them and I em not against these players though I just think it is a bit low to yell out racial words to Goodes I think the country that we live in should honour aborigines after all they are the founders of our land long before captain cook came to invade it
I thought Australian dream was great and I recommend it for anyone who wants to honour the founders of our land and the greatest player Sydney swans ever had, I think it was cool that he got Australian of the year and in fact I drew a picture of him as Australian of the year and he won two Brownlow medals and he was the best player around I remember him taking his marks and scoring goals what a legend of the game he was
I do recommend Australian dream to anyone who wants to stop being racist and to others who really likes goodesy like me, I am not the only one who had him as my favourite player
I am totally sure of that
Sydney Sydney Sydney oi oi oi
On ya goodsey
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
Anna
Red hair fell like fire
on her thin shoulders.
Her wide, open eyes, now
seemed sunken in, and sadness,
for a moment, lingered there.
This was her last night on earth.
She again, ran through the events
that took place earlier that night.
When she was with him, in the back
of the Impala.
Images of the car's windows glossed with a
sheen of steam, blazed across her mind.
A smile blazed across her face.
She thought of his smile and her own widened.
She thought of the way he touched her, so gently,
like a feather moving over her. The way he left kisses
in a trail across her skin. The way he held her, as if
nothing on the earth could ever take her away.
Not in that moment.
But there are more than the kind
and protecting angels in this world. There are
demons. But even so, worse are the angels that
have turned their backs on heaven and now
work for the forces of evil.
The angels that would tear their comrades
from this world.
The angels
among
the
demons.

Crowley
Black.
Black as dark as night.
Black as dark as the inner
reaches of the earth.
Black as dark as death itself.
Black like blood.
Red.
Red as deep as warm, copper veins.
Red as deep as magma beneath
the earth.
Red as deep as rage at the sign
of betrayal.
Red like smoke.
Twisted.
Splashes of agony and hatred and
remorse stained his tattered soul.
A true evil radiated from his
vessel. A crafty and
malicious essence raced through his veins.
But he was no Lucifer.
Somewhere, deep down,
there was still a man who
longed to be loved. A man
who longed to be forgiven of his cruel
mistakes in his past life. Deep down, there
was still a man who longed to come back to
the light.
In a world so dark as his, the only light was the fire,
which should have brought comfort, but only
brought pain.
Deep down, he liked the dark.

Mary
Hair like threads of spun gold
tangled around her face. She was fair with
bright blue eyes that held
hues as heavenly as the sun-beaten
sky.
Soft, angular cheekbones sloped gently
down, a tinge of pink, coloring them slightly.
Locks of her wavy hair met her shoulders
but beneath her fair
appearance, she was a
rough girl.
A hunter.
She had seen things most terrible in the world,
thinks that no one should ever see.
And still, he remained a
loving mother and a kind person
in spite of
her demons.

Sam
Echoes of a former friend
rang throughout his
conscious mind.
Mischievous and
sinister laughter danced
around in his head like demons
howling and gibbering in
the night.
He could feel his brother's presence
and the angel too,
but felt only more unnerved
because he knew he was the
only one who could hear the voices.
Another shrill scream pierced
his ears and he ducked, holding
his head between two shaking palms.
Bright flashes of color exploded at
the corners of his vision and danced
around his eyes like a psychedelic
kaleidoscope.
He went spiraling again in his mind and
every color blinked out, like a light.
Everything went dark as the psychotic laughter
echoed throughout
his
skull.

Castiel
Over the hill moved a creature, round and
Glowing with a cold, white light.
Like a spectacular
Moonrise.
It had hundreds and hundreds of
Eyes in every imaginable color, faceted
Like jewels that covered wheels within wheels of
It’s spherical body.
It was an infinite series of intersecting
Rings that spun constantly in
All directions.
Like a gyroscope.
The rings looked like steel but
The substance was
Pearlescent and, like an oil slick,
Contained all of the rainbow within it.
Steel-like whips caressed the ground
And skies as it moved.
And at its center stood two
Wings, upright.
Feathers made from the metallic
Material rippled in the air. Around the wings pooled a
Sticky, warm light. A sheen of phosphorescent light coated the
Feathers and pooled around the wings.

Dean
Through the windshield, the soft
glow of a solitary streetlight glistened
over his cheekbones
and poured down
his jaw that had grown taught from
rapt contemplation.
His coarse, sandy-brown hair, was messed
from his last tango with a monster.
Brilliant flecks of gold danced around in
his hazel eyes,
entwining with years of past remorse and
echoes of both sad and happy memories of
being on the road.
He kept a firm hold of the wheel, gently guiding the
old muscle car down the road.
Tears prickled behind his gorgeous, tired eyes,
but didn't dare escape.  The plastic army
soldier stared him down, but he
could pay him little mind.
His brother, riding shotgun, slept
sitting upright, his long, chocolate locks
covering his eyes as he dreamt with
his forehead
against the cool window.

Lucifer
A luminescent beauty radiated from him.
Behind his tattered vessel's eyes, a blazing
light shined like a beacon in the night.
The fury of a thousand suns, and
the beauty of a million moons.
The bright and morning star.
The most magnificent in all of the angels,
yet far more dark than any demon.
Sinfully exquisite.
Those who say he has horns have never
looked upon his countenance, for the gems
faceted there rival the colors of the morning skies.
And a voice like silk, soft as the
timid pulse,
a voice that could lead you to your own destruction.
Hands both so gelid and searing, you'd quiver
at the touch.
Hands that have brought so many to their death.
These poems were written in 2016. They were inspired by the characters of the widely popular CW Series, Supernatural.
briano alliance performing at two moons jupiter



hi dudes, here is our first song, titled i am not a hooligan i am yeah mate yeah kid


you see dudes, i don’t want to fight, i am not a cool kid to that

and i definatley ain’t a cool kid to dad

i know i had problems, but i know what i am

i am a yeah mate yeah kid, cause yeah mate yeah kids, don’t sit around like little cool kids do

like sitting there too shy to go home, i don’t do that, well, i did, but i was trying to be cool

but i am a yeah mate yeah kid, who doesn’t wanna fight, no ****** fear

i am never the type to say oh ****** dear

i get the itchy feeling because i used to be an adult

no mate no hooligan for me, and i am no geek, unless you talk about an internet geek

u am cool, i’m cool, the coolest dude i am cool, to a family person’s point of view

i don’t believe in talking tough to people i don’t **** people off, no dude

u want people to say to me, your still a family person, brian

instead of letting out a really old misery guts frown

you see i liked dad, he protected me, good, but he died, and i have to understand, he can’t protect me anymore

and dad was trying to protect me, even if to my mind he looked like a hooligan

i know dad wasn’t being a hooligan, he was a great big old fogie

and i don’t want to be a young dude, because i hate to fight

i don’t want to be a girl, cause, i hate cat fights and i never want to be treated like a koomarri man just to muck around with, yeah

and i hear my best mate saying, that he is a bigger boy than me

you see he is like little peter brady, but he doesn’t think so, but i cvan tell you one thing, i ain’t little peter brady, i am like sam marshall formerly from home and away

i don’t want to hear voices, when i speak the truth like that

you see, i liked how sam acted, and i don’t agree with that ya got to be tough to be a cool kid, crap

i think if you leave them alone, they will leave you alone

i like watching footy, and i played footy in my front yard

but i don’t like being treated like a hooligan, no that isn’t what i like at all, at ****** all

hi dudes, here is another song called kidnap brian and kidnap brendan, just a song

kidnap brian and kidnap brendad keep brian and brendan in their cages

we need to keep them both *******, keep them both *******

keep brian and brendan ******* gracefully, keep them both in their cages

help let me out of this cage, says brian and brendan in their cages

oh yeah mate yeah, keep them both ******* gracefully

you see, this tune really worried dad, and triggered off a lot of hooligan voices

you see, it gives someone coming into my house, putting a hand on my chest and up to my mouth

saying, your still a cool kid, briany

you see people stick their fingers up at me, saying, i am stupid, i don’t appreciate that, one little bit

i want to be treated like a cool adult, i am not a kid, no i think any adult who tries to be a kid is stupid

i am a cool adult, i am a cool adult, i am a cool adult, who sleeps on the couch, like a *****

everyone goes to bed, while i sleep on the couch

cause i am scared of fighting, it’s only natural ya know

people who go to bed are nerds, and i am no nerd, so leave me alone

you see my circle of life, is walk around, get grabbed and tied to poles, and being forced to be in horrifying situations, I HATE THAT

so kidnap brian and kidnap brendan, keep brian and brendan in their cages

hi dudes, my next song is if your happy and you know it, have a party

if your happy and you know it, have a party

if your happy and you know it have a party

if you are happy and you know it, and you will party every night yeah

if you are happy and you know it have a party

3  6   9  the goose drank wine

sam kinison chewed tobacco up on cloud 9

my dad choked after trying an artichoke

and everyone reincarnates whether they like it or not

you see slim dusty played duncan, ya see

saying my earth life is hayley from brattayley fame

dad said, come on slim do ya stuff

and smoke your cigarette getting it out in 1 big huff, like my son

3 6  9, the goose drank wine

sam kinison chewed tobacco up on cloud 9

my dad choked after trying an artichoke

come on dudes, if your happy and you know it, have a party

whether you are, have a party

if your happy and you know it, and want a way to show it

if your happy and know it, have a party

hi dudes, here is another song called duncan

i would love to have a methane with duncan

we love to have a methane with dunc

we drink in such a way, man

to improve the quality of our life

we drink in all the planets, and the atmosphere is great

i would love to have a methane with duncan

cause he is our mate

i would love to have a methane with patrick

yeah i love to drink methane with him

we drink in moderation, and improve the quality of our life

we drink in the planets oh yeah, where the atmosphere is great

i would love to have a methane with patrick cause he is a great mate

i want people to help me with wireless

yeah the methane is all over me then

yeah, ya see if people helped me, i will understand

why people aren’t listening to mr

i know i ain’t a hooligan, i hate being treated like that, not great

i want people to help me with wireless, dude

so, they can be a great mate

to be a great mate, oh yeah

i would love to have methane with anyone including my dad

you see to rid his old timer, i will tip the methane all ****** over poor old him

you see, the methane burns him right down, to betty, yeah that’s great

i would love to throw methane on my dad, yeah

cause he was a good mate

ok dudes, that is it, of spilling my guts and pouring bad stuff out of my brain, bobye, bob
Paul Rousseau Sep 2013
We bowed across the street
Heel toe, toe and feet
Hooded like a monk walking a sacrificial lamb
Footed across the gravel with the scent of a nervous man
I parked my pledge
And arrived at the nightly apartment
Paul Roberts Feb 2011
Got my hair slicked back, pack of red Dentyne.
Fresh brushed boots and ironed jeans.
Just washed the truck out at the lake,
drop a dime in the phone and check on my date........
last night as a civilian.
Got big plans , hope  for that long , long kiss,
bet her eyes open wide when she gets a look at this!
Been hauling hay  all summer long,
knew I was going in for the long haul.
Caint make a living on this dried up land,
got to go with Uncle Sam's plan.
So this box holds all my wishes and dreams........
we'll see....
Last night as a civilian.

Well they sat me down in a barber chair,
spun me around and I had no hair.
Troops out in the parking lot marking time,
singing this reality song to pass the time.
No Dentyne gum out here, no teenage queen,
fresh starched fatiques  and a M16.
Still got that little box in my wall locker,
still got her picture , even got that big , long kiss...
it was my last night  for alot of things.........
Paul Roberts: Turn the Page
I was given bad cards to deal with
so don't ask why im a misfit?
suckas on the biscuit  quick to scheme
Triple beam
floatin' in the mainstream enemies on the same team
as you me and we
can't do nothin' about it gotdamn Uncle Sam
takin' everythang from food water to pestilences
im straddlin' the fence
barely can get over these challenges big as boulder
death peepin' over my shoulder been told ya
times is runnin' before we awakin' the red dragon
stabbin' deep in ya intellect bleed through knowledge
as i hit ya intravenously it ain't no mystery
thangs aint where they suppose to be puffin' greenery
to eas my mind and soul losin' control
cuz media allegories got us in fold celebrities sold
out there lives for gold made of sand
and silvers made of clay can't find no brighter days
cuz darkness lurkin' everywhere i stare
deep into the heaven
askin' why we all gotta die? seems easier to sin then
live righteous i might just adjust my mind
but i can't
 feedin' bird off crumbs government scums o how come?
none of us start a gun bust rivals always get the best of us
while we steadily fightin' over petty aggression
i think to myself while we blastin' at each other
theyre signing' the cession big recession really a mild depression
so when we gone get together and change the scene
they takin' everything but too many love floatin' in the mainstream
thats why!!!!
samuel nathan Aug 2011
i ring the door bell twice
the door opens
there is a boy maybe 4 5
he smiles at me
rustled ***** blonde hair
blue eyes shining seeing into me
knowing me in the basest truth
as only children can know
"Hi. Welcome. Hello."
all rapidly said so politely
i step inside
the house is not too large
not small by any means
this porridge is just right
he leads me in as one who
leads a child to
the den well furnished
the father sits in his chair
watching the boy gratefully
the boy buzzing with
the energy of new company
leaps onto the couch and
announces himself
"My name is Demetri. Nice to meet you.
Welcome to my home. What is your name?"
"Sam"
"Hey, Sam, nice to meet you, Sam."
he flips off the couch grandly
grabs my hand and shakes violently
"Nice to meet you, Sam. Im Demetri.
Welcome to my home. Please, please.
Sit, sit."
He pulls me to the couch
I sit so my arm is not dislocated
he lets go wrist hurting
not the strength of a
4 5 year old boy
a well developed boy well spoken
i look to his father who
watches son lost in amazement
proud as can be as should be
the boy is again in my ear
"What brought you here, Sam? Did you
want to see my house? Did you wanna
see my legos? I got a lot of them. I like
building spaceships. I wanna build a real one.
Hey Sam, you wanna build a spaceship."
no idea how to build a spaceship
"Im here to speak with your father, little guy."
"Really? About what? Huh? About what?
Do you bring things to people? Like presents?
Do you have a present? I think I know
what about. You have a present for my dad.
Is that it, Sam, do you have a present?"
im both annoyed and fascinated
simultaneously by the boy
annoyance why father
has not said something
leash this dog muzzle
however
fascination buzzing by simple fact
i did have something for his father
a present
for the father to keep forever
for the boy to find later
J M Surgent Aug 2013
It gets
So incredibly frustrating to me
When you use Facebook
As a way to voice
Insecurities
And try to find a voice
In the people full of apathy
To guide you in a sense of
False security.

So please,
Just shut up
And nut up,
(Or get out).
And if you need someone to hear your thoughts
At least find a site
Away from Sam and the gang,
Where nobody knows your name.
tangshunzi Jun 2014
Ti ** mai detto che io sono un pollone completo per una storia d'amore ?Probabilmente capito che fuori già



.ma io amo sentire come fuori di tutte le persone del mondo .due persone è capitato di trovare l'altro - e quando finisce in un matrimonio bello come questo.mi rivolgo in poltiglia .Catturato da Heather Pipino Fotografia questa storia d'amore ha un finale molto felice.Vedere ancora di più qui .
Condividi questa splendida galleria ColorsSeasonsFallSettingsHotelStylesTraditional Elegance

Da Heather Pipino Fotografia. "Quattro anni fa non avrei maiè èe credevoè ñessere qui in piedi con una ragazza che camminava in un negozio di caffè che indossa un cappello Dodgers .ditutte le cose . abbiamo aspettato quasi due mesi prima che ci incontrassimo a vicenda . Dopo che tutti i testi .e-mail e telefonate abbiamo tenuto il nostro respiro e ha preso un salto .e abbiamo imparato nella vita.che tutto ciò che serve è venti secondi di coraggio folle afare qualcosa di grande accadere. "

Quelle parole erano solo una porzione di dolce voti Sam 'a Lindsey .ma danno una buona sbirciatina per i bellissimi cuori e amore stimolante che Sam e condividere Lindsey .Sono entrambi persone così gentili e genuini e la loro vita e l'amore riflettere sul fatto che in ogni modo.E 'doesnè èimporta quanto tempo siè èe li noti .Sam e abiti da sposa corti Lindsey sono il tipo di persone che ti accolgono con un caloroso abbraccio e lascerà piena di gioia .Essi vi invitano nel loro mondo e ti fanno abiti da sposa on line sentire come seè èe stati amici per anni .E ' questo amore che essi hanno per l'altro e per le persone intorno a loro che hanno fatto il loro giorno di nozze così incredibile .In una bella giornata in California.presso la Estancia Resort a La Jolla .amici e parenti si sono riuniti per sostenere e amare questa coppia che aveva toccato ciascuna delle loro vite .E 'stata una giornata piena di lacrime di gioia .il romanticismo .l'amore e la bellezza .e Sam e Lindsey meritato ogni singolo istante.

Da Bride.How ci siamo incontrati : Le nostre mamme lavorano insieme in una scuola nella Bay Area .Una volta che la sua mamma ha imparato che vivevo a San Diego .ha pensato che sarebbe stata una buona idea per me di mostrare il suo figlio in giro come gli era stato appena assunto lì .Lei e mi aveva viaggiato a Parigi circa sette anni fa con mia mamma e un altro insegnante .Mi ricordo che lei mi dice allora che avevo bisogno di incontrare suo figlio ma eravamo entrambi risalenti altre persone al momento .Ero titubante a incontrarlo fino a quando ** fatto un po ' di Facebook stalking.voglio dire .la ricerca .Mi fu colpito in primo click.The prima richiesta di amicizia è stata inviata e tanti.tanti .( molti) messaggi e fino a tarda notte dopo.i messaggi si rivolse a testi e testi voltai per le telefonate .Questo è durato per un certo periodo come i sentimenti si erano formate veloce e siamo stati nervosi e ansiosi di incontrarsi other.Finally un incontro è stato fissato al Coffee Bean a Carlsbad .Eravamo lì per quattro ore e quasi chiudiamo il posto in fondo .Il giorno dopo.unè edata irstèè stata impostata e il resto è storia !

Il nostro matrimonio ha avuto luogo a La Jolla .in California presso l' Estancia Hotel.Abbiamo scelto questa posizione perché è rilassato eleganza .giardini mozzafiato .ed è vicino a dove viviamo .Perché ci siamo incontrati e viviamo qui a San Diego e volevamo festeggiare il nostro amore qui .La maggior parte dei nostri ospiti di nozze erano da fuori città .abbiamo voluto l' atmosfera di essere caldo.accogliente.e una volta tutti vorremmo amare .

I colori erano nero.bianco e verde e il tema era classica .semplice eleganza.Volevamo la sede per parlare di se stesso in modo non volevo fiori eccessivamente fatto .ma felci semplicemente dichiarati e fiori bianchi .Isari Floral Studio ha fatto un lavoro incredibile catturare la nostra visione .

Volevamo il matrimonio per avere tocchi di tutti noi in tutto.Abbiamo parcheggiato la nostra hot rod (1932 Ford Roadster ) nel modo di entrata dell'hotel.Mio padre aveva una splendida "Just Married " segno gessato per noi.così abbiamo potuto avere un scappare con stile !Il nostro cane (leggi : nostro figlio ) . Non poteva essere sulla proprietà .purtroppo .così abbiamo avuto una foto incorniciata di lui fatta con un cartello appeso al collo che diceva : " Sono contento che tu sia qui a festeggiare con i miei genitori prega di godere il cagnolinoborse da me . Woof .Lux " .Su quel tavolo .avevamo sacchetti di biscotti monogramma di Michele Coulon Dessertier .Per il nostro libro degli ospiti .abbiamo lavorato con un graphic designer per fare quello di un manifesto sorta di nostra sede .Ora abbiamo questa grande opera d'arte.con parole gentili di tutti appendere in casa nostra .Sulle pareti della Sala Grande .avevo il nostro invito fatto saltare in aria e sparsi sui muri nelle loro cornici .Tutti questi tocchi davvero reso il giorno così memorabile .

nostro incredibile team di venditori e la nostra famiglia e gli amici sono ciò che veramente ha reso questa giornata il giorno più speciale della nostra vita finora.Siamo così fortunati ad aver avuto un bel matrimonio tale .Sono entusiasta di essere sposata con Sam per il resto della nostra vita !Fotografia

: Heather Pepin Fotografia | dell'artista: Aqua Vivus Productions | Event Design : Sherry Glommen | Pianificazione : Swann Soirees | Floral Design : Isari Flower Studio | Floral Design : Isari Flower Studio | Cake : la zia della sposa | Inviti : Smitten Onpaper | Cerimonia Luogo : Estancia La Jolla | Banco Luogo : Estancia La abiti da sposa on line Jolla | Bridesmaids Dresses : Nordstrom | capelli: Jessica / Michelle - Koda Salon | Calligraphy : Brown Fox Calligrafia | Abbigliamento da Groomsmen : Nero risvolto | officiante : Cerimonie Per Bethel | pipistrelli pergroomsmen : Louisville Slugger | vestito nuziale : Tara Keely | sposa / damigella d'onore Abiti : Abbastanza Plum zucchero | Cookies : Michele Coulon Dessertier | Guest Book Graphic Designer : Designs J Gal | Musica live / DJ : Collin Elliot -Ancora Ascolto Productions | Trucco : FioreBeauty | Photobooth : Photobooth mobileHayley Paige e Jim Hjelm occasioni sono membri della nostra Look Book .Per ulteriori informazioni su come vengono scelti i membri .fare clic qui .Fiore Bellezza .Isari Fiore Studio + Design Event .Plum Piuttosto Zucchero.JLM Couture .Inc. e Mobile Photo Booth sono membri del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Fiore di bellezza VIEW PORTFOLIO Isari Fiore Studio vedi portfolio Plum graziosa Zucchero vedi portfolio JLM Couture Wedding Gown Bouti ... vedi portfolio Mobile Photo Booth VIEW
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Elegante Wedding at Estancia La Jolla_abiti da sposa 2014
Amit Shroff Dec 2014
Walking through the road of bones, on the way to Gulag,
Sleep by the sleepers, till you are just leftovers.
Making way for the ferrous wheels, mean machines,
The Red Tsar is still a reverend, Sukhois fly by.
Witness the northern winds, take a time lapse,
Stare at the Kremlin, wonder what Putin's doing?

Deserts of  different shades to the opposites,
Unsaid and unclaimed they rule the north.
The lost Soyuz men in the space, still a mystery,
Few hundreds revolve with little hope and air.
Uncle Sam's contender from time immemorial,
Its a mystic land, Keeps you wondering of it.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2015
The whistler was a policeman
He whistled when he wrote a ticket
One citizen was so incensed
He told the officer to stick it.
But the officer understood.
He had heard complaints before.
They seemed to miss the point
As what this whistling was for.

They didn’t realize that he
Whistled as well when nervous.
He monitored himself carefully
When he was in the service.
War is often no kind of place
To be making unwitting noise.
He was reprimanded by
The officer and the boys.

But Sam, the whistling cop
Had done so all his life
He whistled different ways
Even like a sailor’s fife.
He could trill like a bird
And do the best of all;
That kind of whistle
That wonderful taxi call.

It was an amazing to hear;
He could whistle too
From the side of his face
So you had no idea who
Was making that music
As his lips were not pursed.
That made it more maddening
To a few people that cursed.

As part of his job, one day,
A hotelier called him in
To deal with the issue
Of a dead resident within.
Sam hated blood and death.
It made him quite queasy.
So, he went about this task
But for him, it was not easy.

With a dead body in his arms
Quaking with internal fear
The hotelier objected to his song
Sam asked what he wanted to hear.
He was whistling The Blue Waltz’
In his pitch perfect rendition
To keep his mind off of the corpse
And off of his own condition.

But, oh boy, could he whistle
Making music in every day.
Creating lasting memories
I recall up until this day.
That officer, Sam, you see
Too often in a spot of bother
Was known as Whistling Sam
And was also my father.
Carmelo Antone Apr 2012
Hand on the good book that I never read,
I swore my loyalty though you know I like to fib,
Even as your see the guilt gushing beneath my skin,
I’ve been holding the prosecutor’s hand, with another on the switch,

A spineless snitch waiting for the green light to fry you for what Benjamin did,

So sorry this couldn’t have been different,
But the chair only seats one according to our governance,
And I’m not the victim with a scheme preached as providence

So sorry for the inconvenience
But I want to feel the pulse of the pompous cease,
And watch the stillness of eyes that once blinked,
When they found the oval throne of a tyrant
Instead of the virtuous,
The one who was to lead us,

So who’s stopping me from strapping you to that seat?
Since my crime caused the scene
Since your fathers where the ones who put your sons to sleep

Coming from the cranial cracks of the insane,
Those that tried justified slavery while promising us all equality

I am the reason they put price tags on humans
And why this isn’t the land of the free

I’m the governor forcing your loyalty
Or I tell everyone you’re a traitor before finding you guilty,

I’m Uncle Sam’s mistress,
The thought process of social unrest,
When the enemy was a homegrown threat,
When Plymouth protest turned to disobedience,
I was with the Protestant,

I’m the crack in the Liberty Bell,
The judge, jury, and judicial jezebel,

The King, the colonial, the freedom fighter, the insurgent
I’ve once facilitated your independence,
I was your lust for a better existence

Since the struggle against a parliament
I’ve been dealing you an idealistic hand,
Since the election of the forty-third,
I am the notion that this isn’t the promise land
Like a revolutionary remedy
I am the idealistic ******,

The enemy of our mentalities
The thought of defying the constraints this reality
- This poem may also be found on mantone.net
- This poem is the second of one I wrote previously
- Reason for second version: I used this at a poetry reading on 4.6.2012 (so I updated the poem)
- I hope you enjoy
Sam Jun 2016
here's a barter to the gardener who made Eve then marred her
who fathered the carpenter then martyred man's armour
I spit at the sky but He spits back harder
one roar and a flash and i'm a blurred charred marker
and while I know I'm a carper to start a rant over rain,
I'm cold and I'm tired and a little bit vain

so to the almighty all awful
why when you reign does it pour?
naught but rain until dawn
is this the law of the poor and lore for those born with a luckier draw?
I cry to the alpha to compromise his plan
and just for tomorrow, clear the skies for Sam
for any raincloud
Isobel G Dec 2010
To an uncle,
My oldest, most loving,
Who held my tender heart,
Dear in his hands,
With skin like the leather binding,
Of his old, worn books,

His words of wisdom,
Shine through his humour,
Like the broken colour of a painting,

I will remember,
His st-stutter, his stammering,
His clover and fresh grass scent,
And the fire in his old brown eyes,
When he is gone,
I know he will be gone soon,

Dearest Uncle Peter...
Peter like the rabbit,
Like rabbits he hunted,
Peter and his cabbages,

My Old Peter grew the best ones,
With Sam by his side,
Sam who drank his beer,
"Good dog, Sam", Peter said,
He barely gets a word out now,
His voice rusty, unused,
Like the garden tools will be,
When Peter is gone
©Nicola-Isobel H.     29.12.2010

For my dearest Uncle Peter.

— The End —