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"shekels" poems
I was treated like the VIP, A cat and a big fish, A hook and a big Six, whilst visiting madam bow-peeps rotisserie of ***** Always receptive, Wearing open silk working 9 to 5am. With a little overtime, hot funk never satisfies, She had the way-with-all to feign, delight; even interest, before negotiating the price, Two shekels, She was classy, kind of slick, she tickled my ears for nothing more than kindness, a small token in exchange for a smile. She popped on a tune, as she took off her dress. The petting started her two hands tugging with the zipper of my jeans. A woman's touch... Ha HA, the rich sultry kiss of ***** tight and tasty; ***** like a ripe tomato, Sugar fried and drunk. She opened her legs, her hair smelled like shampoo, She was on her belly, knees tucked up as I took in the fruit, deep holes filled with **** and shabby fingers, hollow spit and angry poison, head spinning to the groove, loud and high, The bed squeaked and a single light bulb dangled like a loose tooth, Ten minutes and two ******* love songs! Sick and spent up, I got dressed to leave, I said with a poke, "I couldn't get laid, Not even in a ***** house!" And now I'm back in the cold again, only dirtier.
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Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
The ********** inspired by William & Don G
-World's Greatest Fisherman falls in love- -Dinosaur corn sandwich- -Battling babbling trapezoid mice- -Green tea thieves are furious, they accidentally stole Rooibos- -A School Boy shellacking shekels- -I don't live because I'm alive- -Jesus on LSD sees Bob Marley- -Something useful becomes of this- -A dog painted to look like a Christmas tree drawn in the Saturday Evening Post- -For a brief period of time, nobody can in fact remember which way is up- -Same thing, only this time it happens in the time right before Tesla was born- -A mirror reveals what we look like inside out, and a little bit more to the left- -Vincent Price suddenly remembers where he left his car keys in 1978-
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Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
These Are Scenarios
it was the summer of 13 when a city consumed in a Cronut crazed heat wave amped the tenderloin slicing the underbelly of Hell's Kitchen packing meat for Russian oligarchs pouring fistfuls of petrol rubles down the thirsty gullets of glutinous developers their distended bellies welling with aching avarice from an extended stay at an All You Can Eat zero interest smorgasbord courtesy of Uncle Sam’s Diner somewhere off the West End getting fat on the land reclaimed and rebuilt on the dust and detritus of an expired Great Society Bloomie's metropolis rising on the rubble of razed neighborhoods.... the vertical leaps shooting ever upward the heady windows framing portraits of endless replication offering the amenities of the vain comfort found in ghettos of soulless high rises and the billowing gray perspective of blanched out street cafes brewing $9 lattes and big box boutiques busy busking the latest rage of sweat repelling yoga mats and wearable apps America’s Mayor Giuliani paved the way he arrested all the squeegee men confiscated their Windex dumped it down the sewers and filled all vacancies at Rikers a year after Sandy rolled up the Hudson breaching the banks of West Street licking the streets clean of urban flotsam the surging boom bloomed Bloomie bankrolled a red carpet for his global fraternity of plutocrats unleashing a tsunami of shekels washing away the fading memories of Captain Sully’s cool headed lunch pail heroism proving that 727’s can walk on water was now passe Lou Reed left town the wild side monetized by the belching banality of Urban Hipsters millennial babes in toy land embarked on an endless shopping spree where credit limits never expire and giddy narcissism greased with entitlement orders up room service as the next course in this endless movable feast Music Selection Philip Glass The Hours 9/8/13 NYC jbm
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
Walking the High Line (WIP/Fragment)
it was the summer of 13 when a city consumed in a Cronut crazed heat wave amped the tenderloin slicing the underbelly of Hell's Kitchen packing meat for Russian oligarchs pouring fistfuls of petrol rubles down the thirsty gullets of glutinous developers their distended bellies welling with aching avarice from an extended stay at an All You Can Eat zero interest smorgasbord courtesy of Uncle Sam’s Diner somewhere off the West End getting fat on the land reclaimed and rebuilt on the dust and detritus of an expired Great Society Bloomie's metropolis rising on the rubble of razed neighborhoods.... the vertical leaps shooting ever upward the heady windows framing portraits of endless replication offering the amenities of the vain comfort found in ghettos of soulless high rises and the billowing gray perspective of blanched out street cafes brewing $9 lattes and big box boutiques busy busking the latest rage of sweat repelling yoga mats and wearable apps America’s Mayor Giuliani paved the way he arrested all the squeegee men confiscated their Windex dumped it down the sewers and filled all vacancies at Rikers a year after Sandy rolled up the Hudson breaching the banks of West Street licking the streets clean of urban flotsam the surging boom bloomed Bloomie bankrolled a red carpet for his global fraternity of plutocrats unleashing a tsunami of shekels washing away the fading memories of Captain Sully’s cool headed lunch pail heroism proving that 727’s can walk on water was now passe Lou Reed left town the wild side monetized by the belching banality of Urban Hipsters millennial babes in toy land embarked on an endless shopping spree where credit limits never expire and giddy narcissism greased with entitlement orders up room service as the next course in this endless movable feast Music Selection Philip Glass The Hours 9/8/13 NYC jbm
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125
When Brasidas took Amphipolis, one surrendering citizen etched out visions of the future, the reoccurring melody, on clay in some veranda – *That throb from the fold to the ripple’s edge; the flowered bank’s erosion. The circulating noose and knife; themes where fools wander. A mound of nails; where Iscariot’s shekels buried thirteen withered stools.*
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Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 7:53 AM UTC
Hilt of Rust
"Did you ever see my esteemed Bottom Howard? "Far more than I honestly ever cared to Sir." Sir W, legendary thesp turned from his mirror with a look of thunder. "And you are the most impudent dresser and I should have rid myself of you years ago." His hard face soon softened as it ever did to this old servant and confidante. "It was a Bottom to behold and no mistake" (Sir W. laughs). A great ass's head that my company's darling designer did, plenty of eye space so that acting of the enthrallment and my famous twinkle could be seen in the gods by my public bless'em, whose few shekels count as much to me as you well know, as the great and the good out front." I've seen that twinkle too much in dressing rooms mused Howard, just put it away you effin' show-off. "No not you Sir, not one to play to the crowds, or to ham it up and I know it's widely said in the biz the biggest *** and Bottom. Always a dream but hardly ever a pain." (Howard whistles gently, trips forward to the chair throws a cloak over those broad shoulders for the umpteenth time) says to his boss: "Break a leg, won't you Sir?" (meaning it).
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
Theatrical Bottom (prosetry)
This day, the grand commander refused the opened door of the corridor that exhumes National odour, The iconic gallant lamented “good harvest is impossible with rats in the rock’ The Grand commander is right, isn’t he? Giant rats with two legs and ***** claws caused us wounds yet to close up, The pig fight they played us in tough dirt let the Atlantic be a stain remover yet it won’t cleanse us Let us take the hands of the Clock to dance the moon walk, You see these rats are black flames in a dark room, An illumination of appetitive explosion Oh Clock, the thorns on your feet, can you see? That the rich green land broke your rich green  blood, Wait, can’t you smell a dead rat? The beautiful rat who at a time was the pilot of the crafts who went so far to bury legality in a pit latrine, I guess, it smells too nice. I am sorry oh Clock, I know you hate the moon walk, I see they make your old wounds open to new grief Should rats hunt rats for if rats hunt rats then who pants? Twenty shekels of silver awaits you in twenty’ 20 Take it and let the times get sweaty ***** Oh Clock! Your prophecy talks in time Should I seek vengeance from the grey sky? Should the thunderstorm strike and the gullible grey hair die Rats of bungalow minds in elevated ranks We trust their word yet they ****** the sword It is this organizational madness Let me stop here before the mad dogs bite me
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May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 9:50 AM UTC
Today’s Headline
is there a Judas among us the last super begins with the priceless kiss and thirty shekels of gold
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 12:41 PM UTC
The Kiss of Judas
Some days, I've forgotten to laugh. My scowl says I'm being serious while my mind loudly whispers *you shit head you're such a fuck up watch you die alone because you can't do anything* and so forth and everything feels like I'm swallowing porcupine barbs. But when I talk to myself and remember the silly goofy cuckoo bonkers madcap absurd world I'm living in where people care more about the environment than each other are still arguing over whose good book is the best book seeking to live a life like Jay-Z instead of His Holiness paying bukoos of shekels to guys to who hit and catch ***** instead of those who teach their kids while remaining ignorant of the stuff they're eating I can't help but laugh then!
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Forget to Laugh
I survived things I thought were worth fighting for. I survived worse things, so now I'm fighting forward. I survived cursed things, that frightened more. I survived things I fought but been slighted for. I survived having to make ends meet. I survived splashing cause the pool was more than 10 ft. I survived a thrashing & jabbing the ****** concrete. I survived the teeth gnashing cause we ain't have nothing to eat. I survived about at least 4 foreclosures. I survived ignoring doubt, just for closure. I survived things that ended in my own exposure. I survived enduring drought just for full disclosure. I survived being back-stabbed and betrayed by my beloved. I survived being flayed, filleted and flummoxed. I survived being led to the lake by the lazy lummox. I survived both blades and flames in my stomach. I survived dreams where I was falling. I survived falling forward on the path of my calling. I survived calling it quits on the plans of my offing. I survived apples with poisoned pits , that were offered. I survived having to spare shekels and hide. I survived my very own version of Jekyll and Hyde. I survived diluted deities, Ms. Dee Dee and diabetes. I survived debbie downers and debutantes. I survived double doubters and deadly taunts. I survived some double crossings - dealing haunts, I survived tempted tantrums and tethered thoughts. I survived the boondocks and the tricks of the babadook. I survived bad trips and the trips that papa took. I survived self destruction of the 3rd degree. I survived self construction with less debris....
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Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 6:23 PM UTC
Element Erie
I survived things I thought were worth fighting for. I survived worse things, so now I'm fighting forward. I survived cursed things, that frightened more. I survived things I fought but been slighted for. I survived having to make ends meet. I survived splashing cause the pool was more than 10 ft. I survived a thrashing & jabbing the ****** concrete. I survived the teeth gnashing cause we ain't have nothing to eat. I survived about at least 4 foreclosures. I survived ignoring doubt, just for closure. I survived things that ended in my own exposure. I survived enduring drought just for full disclosure. I survived being back-stabbed and betrayed by my beloved. I survived being flayed, filleted and flummoxed. I survived being led to the lake by the lazy lummox. I survived both blades and flames in my stomach. I survived dreams where I was falling. I survived falling forward on the path of my calling. I survived calling it quits on the plans of my offing. I survived apples with poisoned pits , that were offered. I survived having to spare shekels and hide. I survived my very own version of Jekyll and Hyde. I survived diluted deities, Ms. Dee Dee and diabetes. I survived debbie downers and debutantes. I survived double doubters and deadly taunts. I survived some double crossings - dealing haunts, I survived tempted tantrums and tethered thoughts. I survived the boondocks and the tricks of the babadook. I survived bad trips and the trips that papa took. I survived self destruction of the 3rd degree. I survived self construction with less debris....
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31
when jealousy envy and greed looked into the ghost mirror what did Judas really see the soul of Jesus being traded for 30 shekels of gold i stared into Jesus's warm sacred eyes then i kissed Him upon His right cheek and said that i shall not betray you
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Apr 3, 2021
Apr 3, 2021 at 3:12 AM UTC
I Shall Not Betray You
A Poem: Revolution Africa All hail the Lion King King Flair Simasiku A certified change agent You seem calm, cool and collected How did you overcome fear Dining with the king of the jungle You even spoke their language When you say "Roar", they roar When you say "Walk", they walk Where is Rafiki? Did he give you the pass code How did you surmount the insurmountable "This is not a small something oh" Success is not for Lilly hearts But brave heart like you They said real shekels lays in their mouth Can you help demystify this mystery? Tell me King Simasiku How did you overcome your fears? How did you win their hearts? Was Rafiki instrumental For he is the mouthpiece of the gods He is the most popular Monkey on earth Plesse say a word for us Tell us King of the Jungle How can we posses a Lion heart When our leaders coveted the Lion share They **** our national assets with impunity Tell me King Simasiku How do we blaze the trail Just like you did The whole world will hear your name Be kind, take us to your Kingdom Far away in Namibia From you, we seek true knowledge You inspire us King Simasiku We are a people suffering and smiling But if you teach us your ways That we might be bold as a Lion Then we can face our fears And make 2020 count Just like the Eagle Fola She already raised the bar And you, you killed it with this exposure Brace up for impact This is no PowerPoint This is no Photoshop Not even paint or corel draw This is reality, get close at your peril The morale behind this Face your fears or die trying Even if you perish The world will remember you Do it not for yourself But for your Simba That they may enjoy tomorrow There are Scars lurking around But we will always run to Rafiki The just and Only Wise One We refuse to be manipulated And flee to return like Simba We will fight for the glory of Africa And chase every Mufasa out Wake up Africa! The hour to liberate her has come Just say the word my King And we will follow Revolution Africa!
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Dec 31, 2019
Dec 31, 2019 at 12:35 PM UTC
Revolution Africa
A Poem: Revolution Africa All hail the Lion King King Flair Simasiku A certified change agent You seem calm, cool and collected How did you overcome fear Dining with the king of the jungle You even spoke their language When you say "Roar", they roar When you say "Walk", they walk Where is Rafiki? Did he give you the pass code How did you surmount the insurmountable "This is not a small something oh" Success is not for Lilly hearts But brave heart like you They said real shekels lays in their mouth Can you help demystify this mystery? Tell me King Simasiku How did you overcome your fears? How did you win their hearts? Was Rafiki instrumental For he is the mouthpiece of the gods He is the most popular Monkey on earth Plesse say a word for us Tell us King of the Jungle How can we posses a Lion heart When our leaders coveted the Lion share They **** our national assets with impunity Tell me King Simasiku How do we blaze the trail Just like you did The whole world will hear your name Be kind, take us to your Kingdom Far away in Namibia From you, we seek true knowledge You inspire us King Simasiku We are a people suffering and smiling But if you teach us your ways That we might be bold as a Lion Then we can face our fears And make 2020 count Just like the Eagle Fola She already raised the bar And you, you killed it with this exposure Brace up for impact This is no PowerPoint This is no Photoshop Not even paint or corel draw This is reality, get close at your peril The morale behind this Face your fears or die trying Even if you perish The world will remember you Do it not for yourself But for your Simba That they may enjoy tomorrow There are Scars lurking around But we will always run to Rafiki The just and Only Wise One We refuse to be manipulated And flee to return like Simba We will fight for the glory of Africa And chase every Mufasa out Wake up Africa! The hour to liberate her has come Just say the word my King And we will follow Revolution Africa!
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69
Pull The Plastic From The Sea Un-political, no single placard, Expressing view through rhyme and meter, This appeal in un-bombastic, modest ways, It says: We have to save the planet. All and you have heard this Twenty thousand – at the very least - Repeated so that You’ve put cotton in your ears, Forgotten all those many years Cliché-d, near inappropriate. And here I sit, The **** increasing day by day – This final phase, Little me in what feels pointless. Trifling, trivial, inconsequent small Plastic forks and plastic bags - They can’t mean much compared to wars. Why get excited over bags, while cars Of aging metal fill the holes, Oils and chemicals **** corals; Toxins all the rest. Barring fishing fish for shekels, Killing off the planet’s whales, Slaughtering live things with scales, Things with tails and entrails I implore you not to put more plastic In the growing, unavailable and sickly sea. Pull The Plastic From The Sea 9.22.2017 Our Times, Our Culture II; Nature Of & In Reality; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Circling Round Nature II; Arlene Corwin
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Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 6:13 PM UTC
Pull The Plastic From The Sea
An iron-born man In menacing manacles Told ME I'm the prisoner Blindly I burst into laughter Until he said You poor, silly goose, Is that a tie you're wearing? Or a noose? These invisible chains I can't shake loose For my light receptors Have been gauged out Two silver shekels Stuffed there in their stead Now the man in the shackles Gets to be the one who cackles i'll tread the path he knows so well For the captive learnt to love her cell
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Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 5:26 AM UTC
The penitentiary
at the last supper where Judas kissed the right cheek of Jesus and promised not to betray him nor give him to the Roman Empire for thirty shekels of gold
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
The Promised Not To Betray Him
A Poem: Bros., Wey You? Bros., Wey you? I hear say your game tight I wan hear your market You no need to drop shekels I just wan help you Come make me reason No cone form Asari for me I no be Orpkorpise oh Na lashing things oh You know now! Abeg make you do pem oh Na white sky I go take come Make your name dey your neck oh Preye say you Gallant dia Oya, make we enter yonder Make you walensh well oh Dem no dey use shame drink poison I see you, I see heaven After every don kpomkpi Las las, we go dey alright No worry, wetin be suya If I want make my mouth dey busy I go just dey blow whistle So you no go provoke Know say Lasgidi Erema no fit When I finish with you You go know say devil na area boy Na God be Godfather Kpata kpata na draw Warri Erema no dey carry last I go soon bracket you for Effurun junction Before omuta go enter No time to check time This motor dey delay my destiny I don dey reach your crib My temper dey rise now And I no fit use am boil rice Afterall, no vero for maternity ward When I work you finish You go hear alaba Today, he no get as he be I go run your matter wella I know say you go make sense Abeg, wuna gi mi cold shack for di side Nothing dey happen Babatunde Raimi (c) Author/Life Coach/Poet
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Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 11:34 AM UTC
Bros., Wey You?
. Netenyahu said The Houthi Will pay a heavy price for Bombing Israel. The treasury at Saana are currently minting Shekels in their lead casting kiln.
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Sep 19, 2024
Sep 19, 2024 at 12:36 PM UTC
............Money..........
through the keyhole of your heart i see the journey you have made through deserts dry and mountains ranges you have travelled, swimming in blue sea's and muddy swollen rivers, sleeping on beahces of sand so golden it gleams, golden in the early morning sun you have laughed in the wilderness, when there was no one to hear cried alone and bereft in cities so crowded, that no one heard you have walked under every phase of the silent, lonely moon and howled at the world, your tears have watered every continent and your smile brought warmth to many a cold fire place. You have bartered, your money, your life , your soul and then bought them back for pennies, shekels and zots only to give them away to the next traveller with a mendicant tale.... And you are home....in order to lick your wounds in order to come to terms with those decisions that have forshortend your allotted span and we provide hospice and love and more for you are our racounter, our bard our sight into the faraway, the unthinkable... the other side you are the brave and reckless self, we wished, we all wanted to be.. so welcome home, friend, welcome pull up a stool and tell us a tale as we sit in the shadows and cry at your fate
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Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 12:24 AM UTC
the returning....
my Hades my soul where to find Jesus ask for these thirty shekels of gold
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Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 3:43 AM UTC
Thirty Shekels of Gold