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"scheming" poems
‘To bed! To bed!’ Said Sleepy-head; ‘Tarry awhile,’ said Slow; ‘Put on the pan,’ Said Greedy Nan; ‘We'll sup before we go.’ (from Mother Goose) They sat at the kitchen table as The candle flickered low, And Greedy Nan put on the pan To indulge her sister, Slow, While Sleepy Weepy Annabelle Blotted her book with tears, And thought of her Beau from long ago Who she hadn’t seen for years. ‘Why doesn’t Roger notice me, Why doesn’t Alan Dell? I’m wearing the dress cut low for me And I’ve hitched my skirt as well. I’ve a pretty turn to my ankle, so You’d think it would drive them wild.’ ‘But men are a mystery,’ said Slow, ‘And Alan Dell’s a child.’ While over the pan stood Greedy Nan, Was cracking a turkey’s egg, A lump of yeast and a slice of beast And a single spider’s leg. With a wing of bat and an ounce of fat And a toe of frog for the spell, She needed to turn her sister off From her crush on Alan Dell. For Greedy Nan was the eldest girl And would have to marry first, The other two would wait in the queue Or their fortunes be reversed, The omelette sizzled, and in the pan She added before they saw, A piece of some Devil’s Trumpet plant For the mating game meant war. She sliced the omelette into half And she served them up a piece, ‘Didn’t you want?’ said Annabelle But Slow enjoyed the feast. ‘I’m not that terribly hungry now I’ve cooked it up in the pan, I think I’ll just have a slice of bread,’ Said the scheming Greedy Nan. They finished up and they sat awhile, And they mused about their fate, ‘If Greedy Nan isn’t married soon, For us it will be too late.’ ‘I’ve set my sights on a country squire,’ Said Nan, without a blink, Lured them away from her secret fire To confuse what they might think. ‘The room is woozy, spinning around, I’d better get me to bed,’ Said Annabelle, while Slow with a frown Saw Dwarves dancing in her head. But Greedy Nan was cleaning the pan To clear all signs of the spell, Her back was turned to her sisters, spurned For the sake of Alan Dell. And when he came in the morning Greedy Nan was sat by the door, While Annabelle and her sister Slow Were lying dead on the floor, ‘I didn’t mean it to **** them, Al, It was only a simple spell,’ But as he cuffed and led her away He frowned, did Alan Dell. David Lewis Paget
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
To Bed! To Bed!
‘To bed! To bed!’ Said Sleepy-head; ‘Tarry awhile,’ said Slow; ‘Put on the pan,’ Said Greedy Nan; ‘We'll sup before we go.’ (from Mother Goose) They sat at the kitchen table as The candle flickered low, And Greedy Nan put on the pan To indulge her sister, Slow, While Sleepy Weepy Annabelle Blotted her book with tears, And thought of her Beau from long ago Who she hadn’t seen for years. ‘Why doesn’t Roger notice me, Why doesn’t Alan Dell? I’m wearing the dress cut low for me And I’ve hitched my skirt as well. I’ve a pretty turn to my ankle, so You’d think it would drive them wild.’ ‘But men are a mystery,’ said Slow, ‘And Alan Dell’s a child.’ While over the pan stood Greedy Nan, Was cracking a turkey’s egg, A lump of yeast and a slice of beast And a single spider’s leg. With a wing of bat and an ounce of fat And a toe of frog for the spell, She needed to turn her sister off From her crush on Alan Dell. For Greedy Nan was the eldest girl And would have to marry first, The other two would wait in the queue Or their fortunes be reversed, The omelette sizzled, and in the pan She added before they saw, A piece of some Devil’s Trumpet plant For the mating game meant war. She sliced the omelette into half And she served them up a piece, ‘Didn’t you want?’ said Annabelle But Slow enjoyed the feast. ‘I’m not that terribly hungry now I’ve cooked it up in the pan, I think I’ll just have a slice of bread,’ Said the scheming Greedy Nan. They finished up and they sat awhile, And they mused about their fate, ‘If Greedy Nan isn’t married soon, For us it will be too late.’ ‘I’ve set my sights on a country squire,’ Said Nan, without a blink, Lured them away from her secret fire To confuse what they might think. ‘The room is woozy, spinning around, I’d better get me to bed,’ Said Annabelle, while Slow with a frown Saw Dwarves dancing in her head. But Greedy Nan was cleaning the pan To clear all signs of the spell, Her back was turned to her sisters, spurned For the sake of Alan Dell. And when he came in the morning Greedy Nan was sat by the door, While Annabelle and her sister Slow Were lying dead on the floor, ‘I didn’t mean it to **** them, Al, It was only a simple spell,’ But as he cuffed and led her away He frowned, did Alan Dell. David Lewis Paget
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72
a (the) woman’s body (pretty pleasing) is my reciprocal her waist is my happy place her neck is my doorway the rest is best when she is mirror accessorizing, preening, **** upon first rising, tallying the gains and the losses unaware of my watching, never satisfied she, tho she is 98% unadmitting contented, as she shifts her weight, from knee to knee extended alternating with slow delicacy for the pleasure is trebled for her imagine image reverberates throughout the house for ever(y) mirror is pre-positioned, accidentally angled just so, lol, her image transported from living room to dining alcove all the way to the kitchen’s bleacher seats she doesn’t know and asks why I’m grinning, answer is no confessionary, no telling I’m swelling and sinning eyes scheming-dreaming of her reciprocity she smiles and says   “good morning bad boy” maybe she does know but you won’t tell her, we, you and me, are pretty pleasing she is 1/me she is won over me
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC
a woman’s body/ 1 over me/pretty pleasing reciprocal
All that we know maybe distorted Or a methodical manipulation Where truth is obfuscated by few Which spreads like an epidemic Words used with vested interest For us to play a role given to us Memorizing the scripts, to deliver Speeches with someone else’s ideas Thoughts and feelings engineered To suit the machinations of few With sinister ideas to play with the mind A conscious and intelligent manipulation Bereft of the tools of our own judgment Our perception is not even ours For the mind has been violated With the scheming and methodical manipulations
0
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
Manipulation
*Inebriated blue cloud, I know you well enough libertine ways you have make you a lover of deep thunder and meek rainbow and also a chit of a lark that loses itself in a song be it is in grief or mirth. Strange is the ways of my heart, how much I long to fall in love with you and proclaim this to the world scheming to disrupt the pleasures one seeks without any reason at all "Look! love has no limits, no reason even the lovely cloud, softness personified caresses my foliage with sensuous abandon kisses me with her wispy lips of moisture" I know you understand, though unmindful of my unbridled passion making breaches in the limits, I have no illusion about our improbable union. True, how can we live happily ever after? I envy your gift of wings though you have none visible, you borrow it from the wayward wind, too willing to carry your sweet load around. I stood on the hill top, wistfully thinking that you will come and take me within your soft folds though I am a tree with deep running roots that has become a restraining thing. Freedom without any limit gets you inebriated every minute, your love for love,  makes you desirable you live in the present, suspend thoughts on time to come as it is hypothetical, you say. You are in a hurry to roam wherever lovers lead you one after the other do you have an urge to dissolve and pour- as water, without any remorse? Do you know my  penitence for your love on this hilltop is a true sacrifice? My love for you doesn't bring anything except my wilting hour after hour. Let me be on your blue breast for moments when my boiling love will seek your shining center that melts, melts we'd freeze as one, how long my darling? Time would simply stand still to a distance, i'd be transported, where tree or cloud means nothing we are an incessant rain lasting for ever.*
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Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
A lovelorn tree to a cloud said
*Inebriated blue cloud, I know you well enough libertine ways you have make you a lover of deep thunder and meek rainbow and also a chit of a lark that loses itself in a song be it is in grief or mirth. Strange is the ways of my heart, how much I long to fall in love with you and proclaim this to the world scheming to disrupt the pleasures one seeks without any reason at all "Look! love has no limits, no reason even the lovely cloud, softness personified caresses my foliage with sensuous abandon kisses me with her wispy lips of moisture" I know you understand, though unmindful of my unbridled passion making breaches in the limits, I have no illusion about our improbable union. True, how can we live happily ever after? I envy your gift of wings though you have none visible, you borrow it from the wayward wind, too willing to carry your sweet load around. I stood on the hill top, wistfully thinking that you will come and take me within your soft folds though I am a tree with deep running roots that has become a restraining thing. Freedom without any limit gets you inebriated every minute, your love for love,  makes you desirable you live in the present, suspend thoughts on time to come as it is hypothetical, you say. You are in a hurry to roam wherever lovers lead you one after the other do you have an urge to dissolve and pour- as water, without any remorse? Do you know my  penitence for your love on this hilltop is a true sacrifice? My love for you doesn't bring anything except my wilting hour after hour. Let me be on your blue breast for moments when my boiling love will seek your shining center that melts, melts we'd freeze as one, how long my darling? Time would simply stand still to a distance, i'd be transported, where tree or cloud means nothing we are an incessant rain lasting for ever.*
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54
Have you met the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man? He scammed fig leafs in the garden, And **** cloth in Ottoman.      outside-in, inside-out; upside-down, right-side up The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can cuss. He offers snake oil, spins a tale, So you feel smart, healthy and hale.      from top to bottom, bottom to top The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can't stop. He swrawls with a Sharpie pen.      right is left, left is wrong That's the Who-Gee Boo-Gee song. Consultation for now is free, No hidden added extra fees: You buy two, you get three.      north to south, east to west The Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man won't rest. I've heard his feet are cloven; The eyes are yellow, lips look swollen; He has two fingers, wears silk- woven. He sweats like water to the lowest level; He's quicker than the slyest devil, Selling hell, but we hear heaven; Doing so twenty-four seven. He photo-shops secret desires, Twists truth-tellers into liars; Artful, wily, scheming, subtle, The Who-Gee Boo-Gee's a hungry jackal.      *today is the day, yesterday's late,      tomorrow's a place that just won't wait* I met up with the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man, Peddling apples from my jardain.
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Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
The Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man
You're not worthless. But your actions exude it, worthlessness... For anyone that could take the gentle, pristine heart, and make it spew purple-black hazes of vengeance, betrayal and loss is unworthy, unhappy, hateful and unwise. But he still is not worthless. I am finer, I am greater, I am better. For you I will not lose my worth. I have forgiven every last of your evils. You violated me. You embarrassed me. You used me. You scared me. And because of the many you's, I am learning my worth. Hopefully someday you'll learn too. That even you, with your heartless, lying, deceiving and scheming low self esteem, you o lost and ignorant soul, you are not worthless.
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Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
worthless.
Oh, how disgusting. All this disguising... To become somebody that’s worth existing. Oh, it's repulsing. Fully engulfing... Every truth, that ever found itself hiding. So join me... Hey let's play a lying game! And ***** ourselves, with something exciting! Deceiving, and heartless thieving... After all life is so dull without some bleeding. Such is life for a boring... Existence... Cause I’m a... Liar, liar! And only that is true! After all fire, fire... Is something I pursue! Just call out liar, liar! And I’ll infect you too... With the addictive taboo... Of bidding the truth adieu. Trust me! That’s a lie, such a lie, for a lie! You see, I can’t pry my own dyed scheming eyes. So please, forgive my falsified truthful lies. ...Truly... Lying! ‘Cause I’m a liar. Oh, how appalling. The lies are crawling... And covering every single little bit. Oh, how revolting. And full of loathing. It’s nauseating! Exhilarating, Isn’t it? Manipulating. Hardly pulsating... A heart like that, is the only one that’s free. Without emotion, Without devotion... It’s much easier to fake something happy. Much easier to fake yourself being happy... So, join me! Hey, let's play a lying game! And cover ourselves, with something inviting! Rewriting, and truly lying... Finally a story that wasn’t meant to end with painful feelings! Put on the masks, and let's have us a masquerade! Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed! A smiling, and crying, and lying charade... Such is life for a boring... Existence. 'Cause I’m a liar, liar, And only that is true! After all fire, fire, Is something I pursue! Just call out liar, liar! And I’ll infect you too... With the addictive taboo... Of bidding the truth adieu. 'Cause I’m a liar. Peek-a-peek-a-boo! Ha, ha, I found you! Hiding from the truth... Well it’s nothing new. Peek-a-peek-a-boo! I can see right through! Liars know liars... Like you know the back of your own hand. It’s bland. Such an existence... Where everything goes as planned. Wasteland... Is much more fun to navigate and understand. That’s why... I left it behind, my world is covered in lies. That’s why... It seems there’s no longer blue in my sky... So... Put on the masks, and let's have us one last masquerade! Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed! A smiling, and crying, and lying charade! Such is life for the boring existence... Of a liar. Am I a... liar? Liar? Does it seem that way to you? After all fire, fire... Is burning through the roof... 'Cause you’re all... liars, liars! And I don’t know what’s true! After all fire, fire... Has ravaged all I knew... I call out liar, liar! I cannot trust you! But the world has gone askew... And there’s nothing else to do... Except bid the truth adieu... Leave this, leave it behind, hide it in the back of your head! I’ve given up on all I knew, There is nothing, that is truly true. I’ve given up on all I knew, Because after they betrayed me, they’ve gone askew. I’ve given up on all I knew, Because life, people are so boring and dull, There is nothing for me here. I don’t see a point in living... That’s a lie..? Trust me! What’s a lie? Is it lies? Only lies! I can’t pry my blind eyes, while I cry... Please, forgive my blackened sky full of lies! Truly... Lying! Truly... Dying...
0
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:28 AM UTC
Help me.
Oh, how disgusting. All this disguising... To become somebody that’s worth existing. Oh, it's repulsing. Fully engulfing... Every truth, that ever found itself hiding. So join me... Hey let's play a lying game! And ***** ourselves, with something exciting! Deceiving, and heartless thieving... After all life is so dull without some bleeding. Such is life for a boring... Existence... Cause I’m a... Liar, liar! And only that is true! After all fire, fire... Is something I pursue! Just call out liar, liar! And I’ll infect you too... With the addictive taboo... Of bidding the truth adieu. Trust me! That’s a lie, such a lie, for a lie! You see, I can’t pry my own dyed scheming eyes. So please, forgive my falsified truthful lies. ...Truly... Lying! ‘Cause I’m a liar. Oh, how appalling. The lies are crawling... And covering every single little bit. Oh, how revolting. And full of loathing. It’s nauseating! Exhilarating, Isn’t it? Manipulating. Hardly pulsating... A heart like that, is the only one that’s free. Without emotion, Without devotion... It’s much easier to fake something happy. Much easier to fake yourself being happy... So, join me! Hey, let's play a lying game! And cover ourselves, with something inviting! Rewriting, and truly lying... Finally a story that wasn’t meant to end with painful feelings! Put on the masks, and let's have us a masquerade! Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed! A smiling, and crying, and lying charade... Such is life for a boring... Existence. 'Cause I’m a liar, liar, And only that is true! After all fire, fire, Is something I pursue! Just call out liar, liar! And I’ll infect you too... With the addictive taboo... Of bidding the truth adieu. 'Cause I’m a liar. Peek-a-peek-a-boo! Ha, ha, I found you! Hiding from the truth... Well it’s nothing new. Peek-a-peek-a-boo! I can see right through! Liars know liars... Like you know the back of your own hand. It’s bland. Such an existence... Where everything goes as planned. Wasteland... Is much more fun to navigate and understand. That’s why... I left it behind, my world is covered in lies. That’s why... It seems there’s no longer blue in my sky... So... Put on the masks, and let's have us one last masquerade! Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed! A smiling, and crying, and lying charade! Such is life for the boring existence... Of a liar. Am I a... liar? Liar? Does it seem that way to you? After all fire, fire... Is burning through the roof... 'Cause you’re all... liars, liars! And I don’t know what’s true! After all fire, fire... Has ravaged all I knew... I call out liar, liar! I cannot trust you! But the world has gone askew... And there’s nothing else to do... Except bid the truth adieu... Leave this, leave it behind, hide it in the back of your head! I’ve given up on all I knew, There is nothing, that is truly true. I’ve given up on all I knew, Because after they betrayed me, they’ve gone askew. I’ve given up on all I knew, Because life, people are so boring and dull, There is nothing for me here. I don’t see a point in living... That’s a lie..? Trust me! What’s a lie? Is it lies? Only lies! I can’t pry my blind eyes, while I cry... Please, forgive my blackened sky full of lies! Truly... Lying! Truly... Dying...
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113
Reflecting disdainfully, remembering painfully, upsetting, annoying, troublesome Bickering, sarcastic, disputing, bombastic, arrogant, conceited, unwelcome Fastidious relations, private fixations, foreboding, disturbing resentment Silently scheming, nobody weeping, selfish, unblinking, TRIUMPHANT!
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Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 10:23 AM UTC
The Last Will & Testament Of........
Once when we were children, We would run to here and there. Across the hills of our homeland With the wind in our fair hair. The sun would shine The rain would fall, Never to hinder our play. And all that could stop us Was the call of our mothers At the darkening of each day. Sticks became our swords back then, Keen of edge and shining bright. The willow became our fortress To defend until the night. And when our foes were weeping Once more we became the child. Fast asleep we were sleeping Imagination running wild. We got that little bit older, That ever bit more bolder. Ambition came to soon. We went to school Were told what to do, And all that we could be. Some said 'Spaceman' One 'Veterinarian' The wise child said 'Happy' "No No! You need a profession" Seemed to be the moral of that lesson. But the teacher didn't understand the question That she asked. For her days of dreaming And childish scheming Were lost in a distant past.
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Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 10:06 AM UTC
Childhood Days
Parenting organizing the day, while the baby room adjacent makes dreaming rock n' roll noises siren calls to lay in bed, semi-alert, on guard duty, scheming about dis n' dat, you are sleeping, dreaming, wide awake seeing, multitasking eyes closed simultaneously. lesser of a poet, more a notate-er, list keeper, note taker, arguing with yourself inside the head, actually feeling the thoughts coursing, lurking, seeing both sides now, parentally, washing the dishes of the hours and years ahead. while the woman-mother makes her soprano dreaming noises, you laugh at the orchestra of ******* sighing somnolent noises, a cadenza of love dancing in your irresistible wide awake dreams. paying the bills, lying in the dark, you wonder-worry about the agenda unknown that will overgrow you, fast creeping up the grain of your skin, ivy on stone skin walls. lala lala you borrow baby's lullaby, yourself calming, keeping time, silly rhyming, organizing the days ahead in you head, while, recording the harmonies of sensory inputs. the dark provides the cloak where you alone feel and hear the worry and laugh lines knitting into a single stitch of parenting. 1/20/2013
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Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
Parenting (the baby monitor)
*Between the night and daylight,      As twilight begins to shower, Comes a lull in the day's preparations,      Cherished as the Kittys' Hour. I hear in the kitchen beside me,      The patter of tiny feet, Rumbles of varying motors      With "meow's" gentle and sweet. Leaping from counter with agile grace      On my shoulder with a purr; Sail grave Thomas and sweet Lady Jane,      And Susan of golden fur. A "meow," and then a long silence,      I know by mischievous eyes, They are scheming and musing together,      To vanquish my weary sighs. With sudden dash from the hallway,      Tortie bounds into my arms! Felines of all colours sit starring,      Delighting me with their charms. Frolicking with skillful ease,      Tossing and batting their catnip-mouse; If I run to escape, they surround me,      They appear to overflow the house. Suffocating me with their kisses,      Furry paws patting my face; And though they have torn the kitchen blinds,      They dazzle me with their grace. I hug you all close in loving arms,      And will n'er let you depart, Nor ****** you dears out to coyotes,      For you each have won my heart. And here shall you dwell forever,      Cherished more each golden day; Till this glad house fall into ruin,      And I in dust shall decay.*                  ~Hilda~
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Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 3:07 AM UTC
The Kittys' Hour.
train myself to write anywhere and at any time... as commissioned by ms. melan ~'~'~'~'~ so I, being a being, a poet who carries his mind scheming with him: drags along his body and soul, just in case: that his hands might feel the touch of beauty, skin and beyond, the exteriors of his interiors, to feel, to feel, to feel every one of his surfaces, the reality of his peculiar real his eyes so one can envision the unimaginable, and thus, never be satisfied, for all is always new, beyond original that his ugly, ungainly ears, may never miss the sound of his tripping & falling head!over!heels with the realization, he just might be foolishly in love the tastes of life's living that make his pulse race, crease his smiling face, causing his blood pressure so high he pleads to surrender, just begging to let his tongue survive and smells that arouse, producing & promising words proud &  profound, that have yet to succeed in capturing the fullness of the special musk odor that masks allure of attraction no, not a lot to ask for… 5:26am SunSep13 two zero two five
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Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 5:35 AM UTC
Part Two: train myself to write anywhere
His money isn't free. On the first date, He picked you up in a Phantom which haunted your inner gold-digger Digging to harvest stardom, but His money isn't free. He's wearing a Rolex You're wearing a Swatch wrist Hoping to switch wrists. It's much too sad that His money isn't free. He's harvested his cotton And you're ready to rob him But his ex keeps calling Little Miss Lee Kaching! She can sense your scheming; she screams through the speakerphone, "His money isn't free!" Now he's seen your blades, your spades, your grenades hidden in the dark of your shade. He's grabbing those keys Leaving his seat saying, "My money isn't free!" Now you're left alone With your flip phone, Not even an iPhone. And the waiter comes by, Drops the bill and says, "This meal isn't free."
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Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
His Money isn't Free (A Slam Poem)
They say grief comes in waves varying in size and intensity; some start small, moving silently, might seem harmless but engulf me within no time and I was never taught how to swim. Thrashing and flailing in the water I find it difficult to breathe. The seas of sadness pull me far into their abyss where there is no light or hope to get out of the misery; sometimes even that feels enticing and comforting. On other days these waves come roaring loud in the ears, threatening to steal my ground away from me, often I brave to surf over them with the help of distractions and they recede, scheming to gulp me down later. Wonder how I end up on these shores every time while on a train or on my bed, in a classroom or in a conference hall, amongst the crowded streets and when alone, memories of yesterday strewn like sea shells lead me to the waters and I can always hear their elegies. And when the moon shines its brightest on them, you get to see the scene of tranquillity but deep inside my heart there is a storm brewing slowly that takes various names every season, maybe there is one named after you too, who knows. Do you want to come with me down to the ocean of tears? We could let those waves kiss our feet while we watch the sunset together, I will tell you all my stories and you could share yours too. I hope you know how to swim.
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Sep 27, 2023
Sep 27, 2023 at 4:48 PM UTC
Waves
Relaxing peacefully on her lap Her fingers ran through his hair, And,speaking soft, soothing words Waves of calm caressed him there. Delilah used her feminine wiles, Honeyed words dripped from her lips, A sense of serenity enveloped his soul From her tender fingertips. The secret of his amazing strength Was reluctantly revealed to her ears Leading to open the floodgates Of times of sorrow and tears. On her lap he continued to rest, Unawares of her subtle scheming; Carefully his luxuriant locks were cut With scissors sharp and gleaming. Little could Samson have known The intentions of her black heart, Her cunning and overpowering charm Hit him as with a poisoned dart. Samson’s strength suddenly left him, As weak as a kitten he became, Delilah had truly duped him, Although it seemed to her a game. As hard as granite was her heart, No true feelings of love were there Else, why would she hurt him With no chance of any repair? His life had a very sad ending, Of this most people have heard, It’s recorded for our perusal Within the pages of God’s Word. The lesson to be learned From this ghastly episode Is that disloyalty is as acid That the heart can corrode. Like a wilting yellow lily Under the sun’s searing heat, Samson’s strength melted Into a pool of utter defeat. Remember this we should And be careful how we act Lest our deceptive hearts This drama we re-enact…
0
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 1:45 AM UTC
Samson's Weakness
Of all my misnomers, Mistooks of arrogance, To think I could career careen A life in poetry, Extra pressure of the Broadest of a narrowing sujet, the scripting of poesy on the restricted topical of only love poetry Must have been punch love drunk, When that notion crazy stung My cerebal, Gored discor-ed cortex, Probably just another Post a Loving, dreaming scheming moment, Or reading a Shakespeare sonnet, Or Midst the long lonely pauses somewhere, *(S)under the rainbow, tween  teener and geezer, and Everything in between* made myself a poet of a restricted diet not "eating " for days at a time for love comes and goes, frequent departures much more easygoing & common, than regularly scheduled arrivals, easy go, not so easy come, what was I thinking of? what a she-muk, talking about cutting your nose off to spite your face,
0
Jul 20, 2025
Jul 20, 2025 at 8:13 AM UTC
Re~Regarding Only Love Poetry (olp)
(Inspired by article below) I. Continuity your filibuster egg of sand dazzled curiosity with creaky shell of hints heaped upon the tedium of knowledge's unfurl undeterred by encyclopedic impatience Assurances of rip(Van Winkl)ed economics shooed paper strings of revelation like anarchy-powered taxes summoning a foreword to anachronistic campaigns of environmental friendliness II. Meanwhile years have been filed down to flashes of chronology for continuity's organic rebus However long it took the economic karma to fall into the abodes of hedonistic pharaohs it was instant Skin that ruled behind the constitution of allergic breath bailed on the bones against their most sublime intentions Limbo-treading landlords huddled in their mummified freeze after breadline bashers scolded them with the spoils of a new brand of pyramid scheming Robbers of the coffin palaces stole the intimations of identity theft from today Immortality and freedom were compelled to share a meaning like estranged siblings or bound dynasties I(a). Abydos how you coyly toyed with us with a diversion bordering on monolithic 04 23 14
0
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
VALLEY OF THE OTHER KINGS
I couldn't see, but water reflecting, it danced from the sun black cormorant dove under stars and pearls of sea for silvery fish to fill his beak a small boat I rowed long through water weeds, cat tail reeds paddles cut the diamond day sparkling sandy shores mollusk strewn rippled shells shimmering blue oysters bubbled, shallows breathing seagull smiled watchful scheming a beach fire to warm the night the dusky sun, no longer to keep soon the moon between the trees radiant, it wakes the stars from sleep
0
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 1:42 PM UTC
Hood Canal
I think I could know How you might feel about her. I can see it, The way she makes you smile. But honestly, you arn't the same Beside her. Waiting for boy's night out Ain't ever gonna be my style. I remember when you were a rebel, Just a renegade without a plan. I can see, somehow, she's got you dreaming Of playing house. Think of what you're doing, brotherman! Can't you see beyond her glamour? She's cast a wicked spell on you. That thing you feel for which you clamor, It ain't true love; don't think she loves you, too. I know it's not my place to tell you that she's posing, And posting up inside your bed to get Some of your dough. Who am I but some kind of little tag along? But I can see the hurt she's going to put you through... I'm sorry, Dude. I don't mean to be a blocker. Not that anything else could stand Between you and her, The pixie with her fairy dust. All your priorities have been re-arranged. Every time we meet she has to be a part of it. It's not my business, but I just don't want to see. When the lies unfurl, I don't want you to be mad at me, For having been the one to have tell you all about her scheming ways. She knows I know. She's as sly as night is shady. When she whispers your name after dark With her lilt, You don't care a thing about your pride. You give it all to her. Everything you've got to give Before she even ask for it. You give it all to her, Everything, Everything, Everything to her... So, I'm giving up The Times we spend together. I know right now you're chasing after your high. I'll still love you As much as any brother. I'll be here for you whenever you find the time. I'm sorry, Dude. I don't aim to be a blocker. Not that anything else could stand Between you and her, The pixie with her fairy dust. All your priorities have been re-arranged. I think I could know, How you might feel about her. I can't blame you, But open up your eyes. A girl like her Is never going to be faithful. Not to you, or anyone she knows. So, I'm giving up The Times we spend together. I know right now you're out chasing your high. When you hurt, just know that I hate it for you. Maybe, next time, you won't brush everything else aside. One day I'll be out strolling. Or maybe pool, or bowling. There'll come a time When the binds Of fruitless love no longer keep. One day we'll fly To far off never ever land. And leave this past behind. There'll come a day, And come what may, We will pick back up where we let it go, That's how we roll. I think I could know How you feel about her. What made you think That's something I couldn't know. Yes, I will miss you, Don't want to kiss you, No **** Bro, I love you. But for now, I need to let you go. I'm sorry, Dude. I don't aim to be a blocker - Not that anything else could stand Between you and her, The pixie with her fairy dust. All your priorities have been re-arranged.
0
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 2:02 AM UTC
Blocker
I think I could know How you might feel about her. I can see it, The way she makes you smile. But honestly, you arn't the same Beside her. Waiting for boy's night out Ain't ever gonna be my style. I remember when you were a rebel, Just a renegade without a plan. I can see, somehow, she's got you dreaming Of playing house. Think of what you're doing, brotherman! Can't you see beyond her glamour? She's cast a wicked spell on you. That thing you feel for which you clamor, It ain't true love; don't think she loves you, too. I know it's not my place to tell you that she's posing, And posting up inside your bed to get Some of your dough. Who am I but some kind of little tag along? But I can see the hurt she's going to put you through... I'm sorry, Dude. I don't mean to be a blocker. Not that anything else could stand Between you and her, The pixie with her fairy dust. All your priorities have been re-arranged. Every time we meet she has to be a part of it. It's not my business, but I just don't want to see. When the lies unfurl, I don't want you to be mad at me, For having been the one to have tell you all about her scheming ways. She knows I know. She's as sly as night is shady. When she whispers your name after dark With her lilt, You don't care a thing about your pride. You give it all to her. Everything you've got to give Before she even ask for it. You give it all to her, Everything, Everything, Everything to her... So, I'm giving up The Times we spend together. I know right now you're chasing after your high. I'll still love you As much as any brother. I'll be here for you whenever you find the time. I'm sorry, Dude. I don't aim to be a blocker. Not that anything else could stand Between you and her, The pixie with her fairy dust. All your priorities have been re-arranged. I think I could know, How you might feel about her. I can't blame you, But open up your eyes. A girl like her Is never going to be faithful. Not to you, or anyone she knows. So, I'm giving up The Times we spend together. I know right now you're out chasing your high. When you hurt, just know that I hate it for you. Maybe, next time, you won't brush everything else aside. One day I'll be out strolling. Or maybe pool, or bowling. There'll come a time When the binds Of fruitless love no longer keep. One day we'll fly To far off never ever land. And leave this past behind. There'll come a day, And come what may, We will pick back up where we let it go, That's how we roll. I think I could know How you feel about her. What made you think That's something I couldn't know. Yes, I will miss you, Don't want to kiss you, No **** Bro, I love you. But for now, I need to let you go. I'm sorry, Dude. I don't aim to be a blocker - Not that anything else could stand Between you and her, The pixie with her fairy dust. All your priorities have been re-arranged.
Continue reading...
95
Enter Lizzy in the foothill forests & Loki up in the mountains Both say their hymns separately initially. Loki at the mountains Loki: I am so happy of my freedom Lizzy in the forest at the foothills Lizzy: I can't imagine of a better situation Loki moving down the mountain Loki: But I want a true lover to mould me better Lizzy moving towards the mountain Lizzy: I now want a true lover to honor my feelings They meet each other and conversation follows Loki: How could I come across such a beauty! Lizzy: Even I think likewise, you are so handsome! Loki: Come, let's make love right now & right here. Lizzy: How could you ****** me so easily, is it a magic. Loki: My name is Loki, I'm the God here and you should fall into my arms listening this. Loki transforms into his celestial form. Lizzy faints seeing Loki's transformation as she realizes that it was the dreaded-scheming Norse God. Loki catches her as she faints and takes her to his cave on the mountain.
0
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
Loki - The Schemer
-for Zukiswa Mvunguse~ and for ~ Jul, who once again, loved each line best~ having already deduced that: “the unplanned is his plan, it’s his faceted flaws that refract his coloratura”^ the titled alliteration teases him into thinking there, is more to be said, more to be prayed, the unplanned lesser lesson is as-of-the-yet unlearned, and the sunburst of a full fledged lying-in-bed born from a static spark of kinetic energy, awaking in an unfamiliar bed or a too familiar state of mind, begs for birth and vainglorious death-by-anon/amity of another poem   I have written poems commissioned, “write about suicide,” asked a friend, “take this word and artfully knead it,” once, was once an oft request, twisty manipulate your scheming resources into finely assaying a field rock raw, laboratory mind-mine it into an essay that delve dives where you fear to treacherous tread, resultant, an awkward prayer, now, a valued mineral no poem is truly planned and no prayer ever truly answered, but as you compose, pushing the last, next word ever farther to the right, you self-confess, expecting no absolution, that the poem, this one as well, and the next, and the next, and the next has always been planned since your inception, always a prayer asked, and in creation conception, answered even if not directly answered, for in the bare minimum asking, is the answering, is the planning, is the poem and the prayer, is his owned alliteration
0
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 8:16 AM UTC
poetry, planning and prayer (and answers)
Hood Canal I couldn't see, but water reflecting, it danced from stars of sun Black cormorant dove under stars and pearls of sea silvery fished his netted beak A small boat left untied to float, I rowed weaving cat tail reeds, long through water weeds Paddles cut my diamond day - sparkling jewel of soul swayed, prayed to dive me deeper Sandy shores mollusk strewn rippled shells covered shimmering blue Oysters bubbled shallows breathing seagull smiled watchful scheming Beach fire to warm the night and rock the dusky sun to sleep the coming moon between trees dark night, the stars to weep
0
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 9:33 AM UTC
Hood Canal
The one created for sabotage Adored by few Abhorred by numerous numbers He treads an eternal sorrow Which tortures his blighted soul Scheming against ingenious blueprints His destiny's been read By gypsy cherubs He's learned the path Trodden by none His predestination Answering to this heavy burden His Father has brought a rebellious notion No other celestial entity has knowledge Except for him and his apostles Agreeing to God's earthly will To be forever cast into a shadow Agreeing through pure love For his Father And sent to tortuous furnace Unbeknowst to mortals of seraphic Lucifer's startling sacrifice God's grievous banishment of his son For he only aspired To become like his Father
0
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
seraphic lucifer
Good Day spoken in a bad austrailian accent bad juju voodoo clear light poltergeist on disablity Hoarding every scrap of miserable memories attached to trash your apartment is a holiday for nightmares and childmolesters ******* magazines, old sanitary napkins , bad vhs movies lay like dead soldiers waiting for the war to end Black bags and boxes scattered every where are villages to rats and every unknown pestilence you can only read about in medical textbooks. half eaten pizzas covered in pickles dried up sadly looking at empty pills You have no hold on me I can't understand your pain nor will i listen to your overdramatic ******** about whoever or scheming to defraud Walmart Your mutilation is a scar spelling sociopathic miscreant child trapped in an old mismatched shell of no clear gender. Your diagnostic prophecies from the dsm5 dismissed like school on a snow day. Will commands the unentanglement uncurse unfear dispell all your contradictions accusations monologrhthyms bad music choices and echoes of muttered mustard. only truth will be uplifted Peace be with you whereever you are currently infesting enjoy your dora the explorer ice cream Was there ever a floor in here?
0
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 12:53 AM UTC
good day