"setup" poems
The head fuckery of societies rules.
The indoctrination in our schools
has led to the homeless on our streets while politicians count their seats.
The privileged few, too rich to mention
fail to reveal their true intention.
The NHS setup to break by psychopaths all on the take.
Big business stripped of all its gold,
no pension funds left for the old.
Big pharma, they don't miss a trick,
they're making you & I feel sick.
They push the pills that ring the tills
even though they know it kills.
With the best advice and greatest will
our kids are on **** & fentanyl.
While we're divided black & white,
we'd never stand up to their might
So take your neighbour, hold their hand and together we'll reclaim our land.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 11:36 PM UTC
When you hear the lines
We can be friends
But not as you want it
I don't deserve you
These are legends
Masters of breakups
Know it's time to walk away
Can't you see there is lockdown?
I'm observing social distancing
Someone who once stole your heart
You even promised heaven on earth
My Dear, the calabash is crashed
Give yourself some dignity
I need a break my dear
I want to re-discover myself
My Mum said we can't marry
Sincerely, I truly love you
But if you see another, say "Yes"
My dear, please, walk away
Let's avoid imminent divorce
Especially when the signs are clear
They have a masters in heartbreaks
I got a revelation last night
My Pastor, my Prophet said
No calls, no messages, just blanks
If you've witnessed this
Please, come, let's cry together
Just believe that "Cue sera sera"
Maybe you even just delivered...
Breakups are never easy
It has sent many to depression
And some, early graves
Love cannot be forced my dear
If you are not valued and appreciated
And ghostmode is activated
Take the honourable part
Just walk away...
Where there is pain
I wish you immeasurable love
True love is never hurtful
Your setback will be a setup
For your glorious come back
And it will end in praise
Just like a Cinderella story
You aren't alone, I've been there too...
May 22, 2020
May 22, 2020 at 8:06 AM UTC
**** you.
**** you for being so far away
**** you for making me want you
I can say it certainly is not fair,
What is this, the ******* teacup ride?
I always hated the fair.
Fishing for plastic ducks and shooting impossible targets
Seems like a setup for failure to me.
**** you for making me take a look at myself in the mirror
And for making me ask questions
For making me lie
And for making me tell the truth.
Why can't things be easy?
Oh yeah, that's just not how it works around here.
**** you for making my imagination run wild.
For casting yourself in the movies my brain constantly films
And **** you for getting the cinematography just right.
I can't look away.
**** you because all I have is my imagination.
I can make you whomever I want you to be.
**** you for curling your hair and for having those lips
And for being comfortable with yourself around me
**** your small wrists and your quirky characteristics
Your eyeliner and your fingernails
**** your sparkling smile and your hips
And **** you for making me want you so bad.
**** me.
**** me for yearning.
**** me for learning
That it's not that simple,
That nothing is set in stone,
That people are confusing as hell.
**** me for taking the time to write this poem
**** how angry it's making me
And **** the fact that I'm writing it because of you.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
They Call It Heresy,
We Call It Genuine Science
We designed the genes' primers,
Ordered them along the oligomers.
Our aim is an elaborate one,
It involves molecular cloning,
Sequence characterization, and
Relative expression analysis of
Bovine Trefoil Factors.
Now we hope to clone the gene,
The gene which is of a bovine origin,
By extensive working hours input,
And bearing in mind the risks,
Of not getting the desired output,
The possibility of failure always therein,
But pregnancy, healing & immunity it's governing.
Three types of trefoil factors there are,
TFF1: It suppresses gastric carcinoma,
And also helps in pregnancy,
TFF2: Helps exclusively in cancer research,
TFF3: Helps exclusively in pregnancy maintenance,
And also our prime interest.
After cloning the genes,
We have to sequence them,
And after characterization,
We have to analyse them,
After relative expression.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
the screen
the keyboard
the small room
the closed door
locked door
closed window
blinders keeping
the sun away
a chair
an empty stomach
protesting against
tequila
more tequila
ready
you can write now
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 7:56 AM UTC
Why do you invite me to destroy my shelf? the other
Was it jealousy of my lack of good sense? the self
Did my speeches ring false in your church bells? the group
Perhaps I had beauty in your eyes taken up by it ? the hungry
I proudly displayed by egotistical selflessness before you changed? the it
Old tricks on new friends ending friendships with absorbtion! no soul?
yes , a setup that was painted and written and signed in tears . unslept?
recording the sun and then recording the image on tv of its light.
repeatedly.
Apr 27, 2010
Apr 27, 2010 at 3:01 PM UTC
I was just getting a coffee
Grabbed a seat and shut my eyes
My son was in for testing
Having trouble with his eyes
The room was full of parents
Also waiting on some tests
But over in the corner
Sat one boy not like the rest
He was in a wheelchair setup
With knobs and flags, all sorts of gear
He looked at me and smiled
"you're new...I've not seen you here"
I smiled, mumbled something
He smiled back, said "it's ok."
Then he wheeled himself beside me
And said "Sir, your life will change today"
"Your son will come back to you"
"There are things he'll have to do"
"He can only do so much though"
"The rest is up to you"
"Don't look on him as challenged"
"your son, is still the same"
"he's now....a different kind of normal"
"If you must give it a name"
"A child born with no sight"
"That is normal ....don't you see?"
"What's normal to that child"
"Is just not the same for you and me"
"It's a different kind of normal"
"That's the best thing you can say"
"For a child without eyesight"
"you just find a different way"
"How do you know the feeling"
"Of something you've not had?|
"If you've never caught a football"
"Would missing it be bad?"
"It's just a different kind of normal"
"That's all that I can say"
"I've never run or jumped"
"But, I still learned to play"
This boy, was something special
Someone special, heaven sent
I was learning things for nothing
And to me that's money well spent
"A person adapts to whatever"
"it is they have to change"
"It's just a different kind of normal"
"And it's really not so strange"
"Who says just what is normal?"
"We're all different in some way"
"Whether hindered by our bodies"
"Or by things along the way"
"To label one as special"
"or as challenged, or just ill"
"It limits them forever"
"It equates them down to nil"
"Just think we all are equal"
"We just don't all act the same"
"We're a different kind of normal"
"And to us, it's not a game"
He touched my hand real gently
More like a feather on my skin
He said, "My name is Simon"
"And I'm glad that you came in"
"Just think of what I told you"
"Just take some time, once I am gone"
"We're all a different kind of normal"
"Now you know...so...pass it on."
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
I wonder what makes up the landlord’s heart
For it is merciless, capricious and poisonous in fibre
It manufactures terror like a Chinese toy factory
For only to be administered where none is needed,
Most selfish and mightily crafty in primal setup
It is the heart of the landlord all over world
It derives pleasure from agony of the tenants
It is maximally sadistic to no match of creation,
It derives joy from harms like rent hike
And terrible evils as lien on beggar’s property
Where misfortune of tenant brews such all
The wine of the land is the blood of the poor
Cursed be the womb which sired the landlord
And yes be it the milieu that nurtured him
For they gave the world a gnome of generations
Feeding on human sweat like vampire of vampires.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
Bathed in trauma, poured on you,
Blindly making excuses, I didn't have a clue,
Unintended harm was not my aim,
I swear, from my heart, that's the truth I claim.
Just give me a chance to prove I can change,
Don't turn away, let's break this estrange,
I've learned my lessons, I'm ready to grow,
I can transform, this I truly know.
Lost in the past, flipping photo albums' pages,
Seeking smiles, wondering through the ages,
But now I see the present with fresh eyes,
Fixing what's wrong, no more disguise.
A shared prison, unaware we both dwelled,
Failed to communicate, the stories we withheld,
I tried to speak of demons deep within,
Unaware they held me tight, drowning in their sin.
I plead for a chance, believe I can mend,
Break free from the covers, where the pain won't extend,
Yesterday's weight won't hold us down,
Together we'll rise, wearing courage as our crown.
Glimpsing photos, memories of distant travels,
Questioning why joy seemed to unravel,
But it's not about them, or what they comprehend,
Finding my worth, letting my true self ascend.
Losing my muse, an ache deep within,
Placing you on a pedestal, where love had once been,
Our best memories like a festival's delight,
But I clung too tightly, clouding our sight.
Hurting you, hurting myself, a tangled mess,
I thought I suffered more, but it was just a guess,
Overloaded with clichés, patched on our dark days,
Unaware I was the setup, before the closing phrase.
Keep donning your cape socks, a symbol of strength,
In the end, you shaped me, helping me find my true length
May 27, 2023
May 27, 2023 at 5:04 PM UTC
You’ve got your disks ready, your tracks loaded
Your club full, your drugs in
Laptop in front of your fingers
Fiddle with the house rig, call the sound guy back
One more time
Check the setup, recheck the setup,
Check your charge
Battle record on deck, you’re set
How’s your cues?
Run through the tracks and the channels
You’re sprinting
It’s all set, all set, all set, all set, all set
Drink your water, throw it back
Thumbs up the light guy
Toss the bottle under
Your gear under your fingers, worn
And won
Breathe. For a second.
Perfect.
Feel the crowd quiver, feel the house shiver
There’s magic in the air.
black.
(beat.)
(beat.)
(beat.)
LET THE BASS DROP
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 2:59 AM UTC
i'm two traits converged into one messy finger painted paradox
a disposition to do good, but i have maleficent intentions set in
stone, my mind shows me how i look in the mirror but the threads
of my body are like looking through a window, then again, who isn't
wondering about the reality other people hide like a facade, cleverly
subdued and sinking me in cold water until the ice is all i've ever known
love is a difficult topographic setup, unable to be evened out
inconsistant roads and treasonous dead ends bother me because
it's potential to break my interior and exterior, but what do i
matter? sticks and stones don't bother me, it's the words that
break my bones and assist my architecture i carefully built
along with my empire built from my bare hands to tumble
haphazardly out of my reach, pulling these weights along my
feet for some type of hope that things will finally become clear
- kra
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
new, unused; you picked me up
from quite a few parched with dust over them
excited you were so was I to be selected after all.
picture of me clicked, lights on and a perfect setup,
you and me only with a cup of chai and not so bright lights.
love thrill and excitement,
the first chapter had it all,
you read it and loved it,
like never before.
with the passing chapters the story slowed down,
so did your reading speed,
started forcing yourself, with tired face and sleepy eyes
struggled just to move forward,a bit more, a page more, a chapter more. maybe you should have Let me go at that moment,
but decided to hold.
never did you forget to take out time for me,
I have seen you crying smiling clinching to your pillow like a kid,
also while reading when that pink blush slid. soon the story paced up again, there were ups Lows and heartbreaks,
and you were sailing through them all,
along with me.
I was about to get over,
we were about to end,
you wanted me to be longer but the plot didn’t allow,
you finished reading,
you competed with me and you freed me,
that was how I wanted it to end.
now I am free I promise to be with you,
through your lows and highs and smiles and cries,
that’s why it’s always said,
it all starts with a good book.
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 2:22 AM UTC
Tuesday lasses
we all have classes
get up and go
there’s no time to waste
join the flow
there’s no reason to wait
everyone’s hustling
coffee guzzling
bus shuttling
paper shuffling
syllabus assessing
apple-watch checking
there’s a fall-like feeling
making things more appealing
file off of the bus
and join the crush
trudging up science hill
thru the doors up the stairs
climbing in pairs,
in class, at last,
setup and relax.
I open my binder
and hand in the assignment
the guy beside me can’t find it.
and the TA moves on
the guy’s upset and I get it
he’s frantic and grim
I pretend I’m not watching him
as he ransacks his rucksack
too late, they’re taking roll
carelessness takes its toll
Sep 19, 2023
Sep 19, 2023 at 12:23 PM UTC
Following the dusky orange of the sky,
I would wade through shallow pools flooding the trails.
Just after sunset when the air radiated with
constant chirping that would beam and penetrate the silence,
I would setup altar at the dock near the hills.
The absence of humans would bring about the spirits.
Nature sounds would amplify and visual acuity would hone.
Some sort of love and peace would fall before my feet.
The mountains would be like towering ancient gods and ancestors.
The trees like earthen tentacles slithering upward yearning for light!
The stars would gleam like alien eyes staring and observing.
Sounds of the unknown would shriek from one corner of the worlds to the others. What it was that could be defined I knew not what went on there. However, I cannot help but feel a lineation of ancestral wisdom, of which can be absorbed. I also have come to the feeling that this mystical experience is condemned and kept out of reach of the layperson and common-man. Human kind would transmogrify its being from the inside out, incarnating into
the Gods and Deities. I have clearly gone too far from
the common thread of thought. For those stumbling
across my message of cogitation, I urge you
to disregard any interpretation of this piece.
Go on about your normalcy.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
I am the wallpaper
and the weather
or
the setup
for a good joke.
When you fail
to notice me,
and all passes without comment,
then (only then)
things are as they should be.
Apr 14, 2012
Apr 14, 2012 at 11:33 PM UTC
09-15-2012
Saturday morning and Grandpa rounded up the grand kids, Tony and Lucy, for a little excursion. Excitement was running high for we were going to the City Park and… there was to be hot dogs, burgers and drinks and STUFF, which they thoroughly enjoyed. Before we left on our fun-outing, I had printed out a copy of a poem I had written for Tony when he was a year old called "Ice Cream". He is now a big seven. There were many booths setup which we visited… gathering STUFF (pencils, etc).
We stopped at a booth that was for grandparents raising grandkids. While we talked with the lady at the booth I remembered the poem in my back pocket. I gave it to her to read and we continued on down the line gathering STUFF (pencils, candy and BUBBLES). On the return trip we stopped again at the grandparents booth. The lady commented, the poem brought tears to her eyes. Then she said, “this was written from the heart”. At that time Tony interjected with, “No. Grandpa just sits down and write them on the computer keyboard.” Yup! That is how it REALLY happens. There were chuckles and smiles all around. Tony is grandpa’s most ardent promoter for his web sight . He tells people the domain-name to find writings. There is one piece he particularly enjoys telling people to check out called "The Boy Called Tony" . Go figure!
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 11:38 AM UTC
I pick this Earthly slide into Summertime, this season to begin, propels forward in all sense of Time, history retrograde, etched in Stone for Centuries, Coded in DNA, programed Circadian bodies, impressions applied geometric thickly glazed coat, generously slathered across my Retinal Screen.
Setup complete for me, attuned to Solar frequencies, aligned to cohesive Cosmic driving motion spiraling Syncopation with all partaking rotational bodies, all timers set to synchronous, all ties to everything celebrating their teamwork well done.
Activity accelerates, as does the heavy heat, both inseparable, together climbing ****** into sunburnt sweat, steaming, sizzling Sunday barbecue to reflect the Flesh boiling together in sympathetic Celebration of our Seasoned Sun.
Longer days accommodate for memories and fun, commemorate the Force of Season, into swing, will soon be swung, centripetal to glaze a different gaze lathered across my retinal screen, reverberate through Atmosphere, redistribute composition, smooth bottlenecking, flowing out yet emptying to take fill of what flows in.
No change of Season, nor change of Heart, no redirection ever knows emptiness, no moment leaves a Void unfulfilled.
No moment when the smooth Transition stutters to a Stop. The sync is in the constant movement bringing balance in equilibrium by shifting tides, Spinning Stars locking in, programmed by Primal Cause, the Synchronicity in Everything, so Summertime comes, this Time in which we rejoice, knowing it's all been planned, beautifully executed by mechanics of Nature.
Trust in understanding a Power much Greater is in Control, we are here simply for the Experience.
...Not to much more, just in attending to the Transitions of Ourselves.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
One open can of
half empty **** water
popped the night before
for a palm of pills,
codeine and HRT
chased with Kamchatka 8-0
she collapses in bed
with hope in her head,
belly full.
Morning comes, her will is gone, she stumbles blind
to root her elbows at the window sill, still groggy
from the high of nighttime.
Noon comes and the clock stops, it's a road block
setup at the overpass and by the time
transference makes sense she's
spent her energy just shifting.
In place, enervated. A mistake.
A husk built of guilt and bone.
In a closed room full of blood and *****
alone. Atone.
In place, enervated,
elbows at the window sill.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
Pandora lifted the lid from her box
And boy! ALL hell broke loose.
You want to put the "evils" back?
You can try, but it's no use.
(It wasn't a box but really a jar,
Many translators maintain.
Box, jar…call it whatever.
The story's key points remain.)
Hephaestus had followed Zeus' orders
And made Pandora from the earth.
The first of the race of women was she,
The story goes--for what it's worth.
Sickness, strife, toil, killing…
In short the ills of humankind
Escaped and now we're stuck with them.
For any evil that comes to mind--
Countless ways to destroy the earth,
Ways to **** ways to maim,
Terrorist bombs, torture, and plunder--
Dear Pandora takes the blame.
(She shares similarities
With Eve of Biblical fame, but whether
There were connections, that would be
Another story altogether.)
If someone said, "See this box?
Don't open it, whatever you do."
Or gave the command, "Don't eat this fruit!"
Wouldn't you be curious, too?
In letting out the world's evils
Pandora was pushing the envelope.
The one thing that she left in the box
Was a little glimmer of hope.
Maybe that hope stays in the box--
Out of our touch. That's a suggestion.
Or if it were released, could it
Conquer evil? That's a good question.
Couldn't Pandora see that this
Was JUST a setup? Well, she should have.
But if SHE hadn't lifted the lid,
Somebody else certainly would have.
- by Bob B (6-6-17)
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
there's voices around me telling me to stop,
because your not good enough and you have no purpose,
there's voices in my head telling me yes, yes you can do it!
try again, just be patient,
my confidence once strong is now a like a fragile twig,
breaking with each storm that passes by,
blind to the truth, I don't know who to believe, don't know who to listen to..
what am i supposed to do?
when i listen to my thoughts, people call me a dreamer, out of touch with reality,
a setup for failure........
but is it really? am I really?
is it worth listening to you? your harsh criticism, stinging me like grease
from a hot pan?
**NO, I think NOT , I think i'll find my way,
my will and ambition soon will pay,
for then I will strive, and you? you'll stray,
back to you start and there you'll stay, and me? oh yes i'll be far far away!
because I listened to these voices, these will and ambitions... and indeed yes, they REALLY did pay.**
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 1:02 AM UTC
It’s December and my roommates and I are deeply into Christmas. We’ve got a little 3ft tall Christmas tree with about fifty-thousand little multicolor LED lights on it (LEDs because we ARE saving the planet). We’re in the ‘study period’ right before finals and It’s a lowkey Saturday night.
Lisa and I were pajama’d and gelaxing in our suite’s common room. She was in a tan easy chair and I was slouched on our red corduroy couch, my slippered feet up on a white coffee table. We had a Christmas playlist playing throughout the suite, a ‘Christmas lights of Paris’ Youtube video streaming silently on our TV and cups of Keurig brewed hot-chocolate with little marshmallows.
Leong came out of her room and joined us, taking a seat on the far side of the couch with me. After a moment she stretched-out, putting her head in my lap. I love her jet-black, cornsilk hair and it wasn’t long before I found myself stroking it, a gesture primates have been making since the pleistocene period. When Lisa glanced over at us and smiled, I started making gestures like I was looking for fleas in her hair and eating them - in a silly, momentary comedy lost on Leong.
We got back from November recess a few days ago. After three years together, it was easy, almost automatic, for us to fall back in our rhythms as roommates. On arrival, I glanced through my drawers, ***** clothes and shelves, taking a casual inventory. Everything was as I remembered it but still, everything had the feel of trivial leftovers from some lost civilization.
I got a new M3-iMac, it’s really the best platform for putting docs side by side. The first thing I did was hit ‘restore my setup’ from the cloud. I love futzing with tech - I can remember when that kind of restoration would have taken all day - but fifteen minutes later I could tell from the files on my desktop that everything was restoring nicely.
As I sat back on my office chair watching the restoration, I felt myself relax. THIS was real life, this was how life should be done. No matter what else I’d done or where else I’d gone - this was how my life should be - at school, with friends, facing those challenges. It was a peek-moment.
It was an illusion that my little iMac welcomed me back, like an old friend, as it finished restoring - wasn’t it?
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 10:30 AM UTC
Should of, would of, could of, but you didn’t,
Now your whole life you’re wishing that you did it.
If it was really meant to be,
You wouldn’t be searching so ignorantly.
Ignore what’s come and gone,
And focus on what’s going to come.
Forget regret, it only begets upset,
Instead setup
Your plans to take a second chance,
Because once the seconds on the hand,
Make their final revolution,
You’ll regret you didn’t focus on a better resolution.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 12:19 AM UTC
It may look like a setup
No consent
No scheduling ahead of time
No time to prepare
Raindrops falling
D
O
W
N
From an aching roof
Disappointment will ponder
Through each wall
Can you stop the inevitable?
You can't.
You must wait for the rainstorm to be over.
And so you must be reminded,
"Above All Else, Guard Your Heart."
Seasons
If we lose heart, we have lost everything.
Copyright© Cynthia Ulloa
All rights reserved.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
Looking out
is looking in.
It's the damnedest setup ever.
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC