"smartly" poems
When I was small
I had a favorite game
A game only girls loved to play
Paper dolls, pretty paper dolls....
My sister Sara dressed the paper dolls nicely
Elegantly dressed, pretty dolls...
and we loved to style them our ways...
We got bored easily and Sara begged me to buy more dolls...
I used my childish charm to get a rupee or two
My grand papa joked about our paper dolls
"no saree wearing dolls"? " no chapati making dolls"?
" No parantha making dolls?
and both of us replied.... " ohhhh.... shut up grandpapa"
When we grew up a little,
My sister and I were sent to a boarding school.
It was all girls school
and we were taught grooming, social etiquette
and how to be a lady...prim and proper
Dressed smartly, talked only when necessary
and sat up neatly, no head turns..
No giggling... only smile delicately
No tantrums or emotional plays...
just be poised... controlled.. poised and controlled...
Of course
We were not allowed to play paper dolls anymore
After awhile I hated the school...
Told my sister..... They were turning us
into paper dolls...
Paper dolls have no say...
They only follow.. They are puppets
Remember paper dolls we used to play?
All pretty in the outside but there is no life
to breathe....
Suffocated i felt here.....all I wanted to do is flee
Sis, cmon this is certainly not us... let's flee
WE SAID GOODBYE TO OUR BED AND WE DID RUN....
We managed to be who we wanted to be in the end
to live in real world, be with real people
given a freedom to choose what we wanted to do
with life...
We enjoy our life not the traditional way anymore
Have career and still we dressed nicely and elegantly
We are real people...
Unlike the paper dolls , who only look poise and beautiful..
but inside they are freezing.... lifeless....paper dolls..
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
The lonely old man wrinkled he's aged,
he's gone into care he feels like he's caged.
Weak he's fragile but his mind is in tact,
the way life is it's a matter of fact.
The lonely old man he's missing his wife,
waiting to die looking back o his life
Looking through photographs a distant memory it seems,
frightened by death it's plaguing his dreams.
The lonely old man it seems nobody cares,
in his bedroom he sits there and stares.
One day a young lady comes to help him get ready,
on his feet he's not stable he's become unsteady.
The lonely old man he's feeling a tired old chap,
the lady dresses him smartly finishing with his cap.
Out in the gardens she takes him for a walk,
from his wheelchair he laughs as they talk.
The lonely old man and the lady they bond,
watching the fish as they swim in the pond.
Days go by the man weakens he's worse,
the lady stays with him that's her promise as a nurse.
The lonely old man ready to leave his life,
he starts seeing the face of his beautiful wife.
Holding his hand she knows he is dying,
trying to be professional she can't stop herself crying.
The lonely old man turns to the lady,
his face has darkened his eyes grey and shady.
Slipping away his breathing is slow
knowing it's time for him he must go.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 12:56 PM UTC
A woman and a knife:
The blade glistens,
ever sharply
in the rain that is pouring from heaven.
Her black hair sticks smartly
to the sides of a sharp face.
I trace my gaze
over a smart mouth
with red lips.
But her dark eyes
never falter with such desire.
Her cold stare ever fixated
on the knife's destination:
My chest.
Mar 7, 2023
Mar 7, 2023 at 5:08 PM UTC
To all those people out there
who try to tell me how to run my life
I turn my back to you
I will stand my ground
I pay my bills on time,
I buy the things I need
Female products, shampoo,
razers, tooth brush, ect
SO WHO CARES HOW I SPEND MY EXTRA MONEY???
Yes I know I'm slightly obbsessed with Avengers
and I buy everything in sight that has to do with them.
BUT HEY I DO IT WITH THINGS I NEED!!!!
I needed a new bedset, my old one getting disgustingly ratty
There just so happened to be an avengers one
I needed a new bath towel,
Hey Look a cheap *** Avengers one!!!!
I needed shampoo
I found a three in one
shampoo, conditioner, body wash
3 buck! AVENGERS!!!
Sorely needed a new tooth brush
Dollar tree, Spiderman!!!!
So you see
even as I splurge
I'm doing it smartly
So to all those haters out there!
GET THE **** OFF MY BACK!!!
ITS MY LIFE
AND I WILL LIVE AND SPEND IT
HOW EVER I ******* WANT!!!!!!!!!!!
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
reveling in the unity of contradiction
the omnipresence of disjunction
the opaqueness of transparency
the anarchy of governance
the unknowableness of the zeitgeist
the banality of chiqueness
the slavery of fashion
kinda like being a hipster in Brooklyn
with no conscience of consciousness
or is it no consciousness of conscience?
one is a statement the other a dumb question
seeking an intelligent answer
truly the tragedy of comedy
or is it the comedy of tragedy?
enough of these silly questions....
why don't it just fall apart?
how does it stay together?
accessorize smartly
tight ensem
put together
right
Music Selection:
Jimi Hendrix
ifasixwas9
Oakland
6/21/13
jbm
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
December 1899
I
She sits in the tawny vapour
That the Thames-side lanes have uprolled,
Behind whose webby fold-on-fold
Like a waning taper
The street-lamp glimmers cold.
A messenger’s knock cracks smartly,
Flashed news in her hand
Of meaning it dazes to understand
Though shaped so shortly:
He—he has fallen—in the far South Land…
II
’Tis the morrow; the fog hangs thicker,
The postman nears and goes:
A letter is brought whose lines disclose
By the firelight flicker
His hand, whom the worm now knows:
Fresh—firm—penned in highest feather—
Page-full of his hoped return,
And of home-planned jaunts of brake and burn
In the summer weather,
And of new love that they would learn.
3.2k
The fearless ones
are fanning out
into the woods.
Others are huddled
in smartly constructed
camouflaged blinds.
These self styled
eco-warriors
brave the cold
and the discomforts
of inclement weather.
They keep a
watchful eye
over the stale
remains of
Dunkin Donuts,
bagels and
bacon grease
they cleverly
scattered
outside their
deadly bivouac.
These bold ones
eagerly finger the
barrels of their high
powered rifles,
palming the smooth
wooden stocks with
warm naked hands.
They itch to squeeze
the trigger but discipline
and fortitude inform
the vigilance of these
sentinels of sustainability.
They philosophically muse
about restorative balance
and the paradox of killing
in order to survive.
Another day has broken
over the New Jersey Highlands.
The hunt for bear is on.
Let the mammalian cleansing begin.
jbm
Oakland
12/6/10
Music Suggestion: Radiohead, Hunting Bears
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 9:02 AM UTC
The wind is violent,
Knocking, flapping and rustling,
Slapping, tumultuous
Rolling like waves
I am swept
Savoring the mad sea-breeze
Savoring life
Rolling the sweetness on my tongue
Palm fronds slap delicious
A storm is brewing
Ocean spray spits smartly
Birds give way
Mother Nature is respected here
Nothing is contained
To the Queen we all bow and give way
Glance furtively under slit lids
Perhaps her wake, her eye will pass us by
With no more than a slap or tweaked cheek
Her notice, her scornful gaze
Can turn our hearts to waste
Our lives to dust
Our ocean mother laughs at the weak
Barricade of glass
Her tinkling laughter can shatter dreams
But oh, her majesty
What glorious banners she weaves
To trail her horizon is fool’s folly
Her train may wreck,
Her abuses bruise us
But to behold her wake, her glory
Her tresses, her face
Risking defeat and death is
A small price to pay
Surfing the wind, surfing the sun
After all nothing remains the same-
And my life is but a mere passing dust speck
In the mote of her eye
Keep me here fair queen
Bowed by your feet
Please don’t rub me out-just yet
All sadness departs when I hear your music
In the rustling flapping of leaves
The ocean roars and thunder booms
Your symphony oh sweet dear
Your symphony this day
So priceless to pay
Melon rolls sweetly on my tongue
Drops of honey linger-a **** tang
Like a mermaid lying beached upon the sand
Gathering in the ancient hush of the sea
These rumblings of the planet
Sea spray bathing my face
Foam like the spurts of ***
From a loved one
Lovers embrace
The rhyme and song is ancient
I feel a soft hush rumbling lullaby
Sea song siren cry
The rhythm and lull
The beat like ***
An ******** crescendo
Again and again-my heart beats in rhythm to hers
The goddess of the sea
Surfing the sun, surfing the wind
Rays like waves splash my face.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
A friend sends her perfumed carriage
And high-bred horses to fetch me.
I decline the invitation of
My old poetry and wine companion.
I remember the happy days in the lost capital.
We took our ease in the woman's quarters.
The Feast of Lanterns was elaborately celebrated -
Folded pendants, emerald hairpins, brocaded girdles,
New sashes - we competed
To see who was most smartly dressed.
Now I am withering away,
Wind-blown hair, frost temples.
I prefer to stay beyond the curtains,
And listen to talk and laughter
I can no longer share.
2.6k
I stepped on the stage again,
My act was supposed to be the showstopper;
This circus was still breathing,
And I wasn't modest claiming all the credit;
The schedule was followed always,
It had been followed this time as well;
The magical act of mine was to be recorded.
I bowed a greeting quickly,
Followed it up with a bouquet sprouting out of thin air;
Delivered it to a girl in the 7th row,
Neither by foot nor by hook I did that;
Yes my magic wand I flicked smartly,
Making the flowers reach the girl so cute;
The audience sure was impressed with me.
I saw clapping hands in the stands,
Not much later did I speak of a vanishing act;
And I made an assistant vanish into a box,
Then followed a fiery act & my head was aflame;
Like the agent of the Devil, I appeared,
Soon underground I disappeared;
Didn't stop on the floor below strangely.
My assistants were none there to put out the fire,
I panicked and called for help but none arrived;
Soon the fire gelly would run out and my head will burn,
But I hadn't been married yet & my inamorata was upset;
She wasn't going to forgive me for my crimes,
Whether I had committed them or was innocent;
Now I felt my hair burning and the stench sickening.
I was about to find my doom's onset,
Still, the fire was getting colder & bolder;
Now I didn't feel burning in my hair,
The flames were now blue as I could see;
Out of the body was that experience,
And now I regretted each one of my sins;
Suddenly on my stomach, I felt a million pins.
I still wondered if any of it was real,
At least the pain felt real and I was in hell;
By now there was no point repenting it,
The sin committed was grievous I realized;
No Punisher will take it easy & forgive me,
Here the executioner was my own inamorata;
Never did I think she could be so cruel.
I then felt my head being supported,
And I was brought back to my senses;
She then helped me into a standing position,
And it was her who had again breathed life into me;
The vanishing mechanism had failed this time,
But my ceased breath had breathed a new lease to 'us';
I just looked at my inamorata with desperation & guilt in my eyes.
There was such kindness in her eyes,
I just knew then that I'll be satisfied.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC
The hobby horse it bolted,
To him I'm still attached,
Bumping along the gravel track,
My arms are torn to ribbons,
My head is sorely hurt,
Hobby horse was just a game,
Grey corduroy head bowed low,
A matter of respect ,
I'm told,
It's neckerchief of gingham was checked in red and white,
Caught him on a bramble bush as I went flying by,
It poked him smartly in the eye,
Never saw what was going on,
His brain was made of fluff,
His heart was made of solid wood,
He wasn't always very good,
He was a dashing fellow,
His slender body pole,
Painted florescent yellow,
So all could see him coming,
He was just my favourite hobby horse,
Of course!
By ladylivvi1
I don't know if Americans have hobby horses. A horse made out of broom stick with a fabric head and children pretended to ride them!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 5:03 PM UTC
*En route to your heart,
I strayed in to,
the lush garden of your youth,
full of unsullied flowers,
kissed only by mischievous sun.
No man can even, think
of turning his back to this
veritable feast for senses;
it transmitted a vibe resonating,
perfectly with my psyche.
The heady fragrance emanating
from varieties of flowers did speak
of magical pleasures unexplored
I did eagerly heed,
was it by pure chance
or were there plans to allure me in,
I don't even want to know,
it suits well to my desires.
Amorous droning of inebriated bees
rang in my ears,
making me giddy.
Spring time it was
in your budding new garden,
being a pretender
who elicits the best effect
you smartly feigned ignorance
of my presence,
(As you expected, I suppose)
I lost my way and ended up
in the spirited night we shared between us,
harvesting wild fruits with a verve
we had never known before,
pleasures of many seasons
were there in store, I was astonished,
a consummate seductress you were.
a she wolf, under a sheep's skin.
but kind amorita, most adroit.
Could I ever blame you
an iridescent creature, exquisite
oh! the candor that marks your surrender!
Scent of flowers wafting on the wind,
created the effect of rarefied air
my lungs are full to the brim
with your feminine spices.
Does this happy transgression
to your secret scented garden
make me a fallen angel,
or am I a slave of your whims
entrapped for the rest of our lives?
Either way your wile wins
a knight in shining armor or
bereft of it, and naked, for your sake
I willingly submit before
the light that shines in you,
I'd make your garden mine.*
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
From sevenpanda.com . Computer accessories enhance the efficiency in the way you are using the computer. This additional stuff really adds value to your work and accelerates the rhythm of your job. Take the functions of basic accessories like speakers, printers, scanners, UPS, surge protector, headsets, cases and covers, cleaning and repair kits. Now imagine... can you do your business without these accessories? Now think about some advanced accessories, which include webcam, microphones, gaming equipments, portable storage devices, CD and DVD recordable drives, network accessories and modem. All these accessories - basic and advanced - to help your business flourish.
Overall, accessories are must-have for a complete pc experience. No matter what kind of system you have, whether it is desktop pc or laptop, these hardware and peripherals can make or mar your business if not selected smartly.
http://sevenpanda.com
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC
Zebra-striped cushion covers on soft-white chairs,
cream topped calorie delights, inviting -
this patisserie in Nairobi:
"you're welcome" the smartly outfitted
African girl spoke in flawlessly accented English
as I pore over the menu - a posh girl
dressed in haute denim and a sleeved top
walks in and spoke French in pouted lips
as she found her corner spot, reading;
an Asian couple walk in, wife in hijab
and baby in tow, as the man sneers at me and
answers 'assalamu alaikum' on phone
as I ponder on identity when
the French matron in Yoga tops walks in
saying namaste to me, and calls out for Henry -
her outfitted and bespectacled pomeranian
oh don't we all want to be someone else
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
I love your sensitivity
nurture it, it's a treasure
like a superhuman power
said noone to anybody ever
You're upset oh no- I must fix this-
you're broken, please don't cry
these tears make me uncomfortable
supress them, make them dry
A perfectly natural display
of normal human behaviour
is seen by some as weak
too feminine, a problem, a failure
Stop being so ****** sensitive
they're just animals, killed for us
now eat up all your diner
and stop making such a fuss
Don't question, object or argue
just nod, agree and grin
there's no place for emotional outbursts
in the society we're in
It seems sometimes today
with all this mad confusion
in a world of talking robots
we've forgotten that we're human
Yes I want to notice a smartly-dressed
pensioner alone by a train,
to image how it feels
feel his wisdom, feel his pain
because to feel a pull of emotion
glancing at a passing strangers eyes
is neither a weakness nor a hinderance
but a blessing in disguise
~
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 1:57 AM UTC
My Grandad,
I know nothing about you,
I never really did,
You died long before I was born,
never even a sparkle in your eye,
I have no idea what you looked like,
I know not how you died,
nor when.
I know once that you were a saddler,
a maker of fine leather,
In deepest Dorset, laid a paving slab with our family name on.
I saw it once or twice,
It was positioned smartly on the pathway, outside a shabby looking shop, that shop it wasn't yours, you had long since gone,
The shop, well it's probably a convenience store now,
haven't been there for a good many years,
That kerb stone may have stayed in place,
One day, I may go take a look,
a photo for my memory book.
(C) Livvi
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Ease yourself unto my spirit
Gather your folds closely
I long to whisper secrets of myself to you
In the voice of an old woman
I will be wide eyed, turban tied
Sitting on the stoop of an old porch
Long skirt over knees
Watching empty streets
Fingers long, thin--wrinkled paper
Wrapped smartly round a cigar
Seducing smoke to the sky
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
Trouble me with your smiles
or break me with your cries
Judge me with your fingertips
and **** me with your lips
Revive me with your voice
Show me life without choice
Paint my life with chaos
Stun me with that elegant poise
Poison me with your beauty
And influence me smartly
I'll wait, with a rose in my vest
Will you wear your white dress?
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:41 AM UTC
The Kristeille Bra :
And Other Pathways To - ( Disaster ! )
Polarities : so smartly empowdered
And, petitely enslaved -
Potentialities ?
- In extremis, I'm afraid.
But if thus were so, then ...
(Even thinly veilled) ;
Let us duly consider :
Are our appetites (fe\male)
In actuality and fact umm,
Needlessly Manichean;
The torments of
noisy Siblings ?
Why, after all I ask,
only two -
Don't
You ?
Alas,
To the Medici
Roundly go the
Battle and the day !
(And sublimity)
(Or so the legend
goes ...... )
For those who favour
such Palantines,
(and gravity)
a throne.
For :
Pure symetry confounds my interest -
hnn.us/articles/7202.html
James R. Morse NYC 2012.
All Rights Reserved.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 2:32 PM UTC
There lived, amid the common folk
A seamstress of renown
Tucked away most smartly
In a quiet sort of town
So perfect was her needlework
And delicate her hand
That all and sundry sought her out
Her skills were in demand
To gain a moment here and there
She took a silver thread
She deftly put a stitch in time
And curled up in her bed
For she was such a busy girl
Deserving of a nap
But as she slept one evening
The stitch in time went 'snap!'
Time unravelled rapidly
From 'will be' to 'before'
And coils of causality
Were all over the floor
But fortune is a canny dame
For a needle was at hand
Still threaded up with silver
At an artisan's command
She bustled in a flurry
And rummaged through the ages
She sorted out the centuries
With diligence, by stages
While shoring up the borderlines
And patching up the wars
She darned the holes in spider silk
And trimmed the dinosaurs
She hemmed the mighty oceans
To snuggly fit the sand
Then zipped up the horizon
So the sky adjoined the land
The night was stitched in situ
In between adjacent days
And time was mended seamlessly
And better in some ways
She locked away her needle
And her strand of silver thread
Her work would wait 'til morning
And with that, she went to bed
So next time life is hectic
And leaves you in a flap
Allow yourself an hour
For a cheeky little nap
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
My last pair of boots, sit by the back door,
Faded yellow and black, via asphalt and straw.
They sprawl where their thrown, spread-eagled with socks,
The steel-toe caps are showing, through all the hard knocks.
I've worn out dozens of boots, by the score,
But these are my last, I won't need anymore.
Grafted all my life, sweated and bled,
Wrote a heart-wrenching poem, in a felt-tip of red,
On the back of a letter, from the Hospital, to my lad,
Just a change of appointment, addressed to me, his Dad.
But the words are unreadable, I can only guess at a few,
It was probably a masterpiece , though I haven't a clue.
Written through frustration, written through tears,
At Three in the morning, after too many beers,
About a change of career, getting a worthwhile job,
There must be an easier way, than to work like a dog.
Staying inside in the winter, not out in the fields,
Digging trenches and footings and dying on shields.
Dressing up smartly, using brain not just brawn,
Rising at noon, instead of teeth-chattering dawn.
But I forgot why I wrote it, the mind has many routes,
So I've just been out to buy, a new pair of boots. . . .
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 4:02 PM UTC
Hie Yamaha Wegman ****** voyager, voted vonage valuable, unrepentant TIME Magazine subscriber. Spotify sportsman Snapchat smartly. Sleuth slenderman silences Shutterfly schvitzing. Saxby sassy Santander sais sage rues rudimentary router rotorooter.
Royale Rococco rigged remarkably regular referee reefers red reddit reeder recuperating. Reconnaissance recluse really rabid. QVC quotient quoting, quo quoi quivering quite quirky. Quisling quipped. Quintuplets quintessentially quiet. Quids Quicken questions.
Quartermaster qualified quaint quaffing quadrilateral Pythons. Pyrex pylons put purdy purposeful puny punsters punching. Pumpkin pumice publicized prudential protean pros properly pronouncing prolific prodigies.
Proletariats professors' problematic. Pro privileges prioritized. Principle primates prevaricate. Preppy pregnant, praying prattler possibly Porgie. Poseidon pooping poodle ponders poppycock. Plum? Polite poison pods ply pitiful pinterest.
Pinhead Pillsbury pillager Pi. Pigskin pierce petsmart pests permanently. Perdition percolates peppered PennState pedigreed PearlJam Patagonian. Pastor pastes passion passably. Papas' paginated orbitz okayed. Nutty node needs money.
Next netzero nee naugahyde. Nattering nationwide nabob Moxie Molly McGee. Monosodium livingsocial joyus je kickstarter. Identityguard Huffington GMO. Gluten Glutamate footloose fancy free footlocker. Fingerhut fetishistic fabrication Cingular.
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
Noon, I’m next in line behind an old man.
“I want to withdraw fourteen dollars,” he says.
The teller, a young woman with a soft sweater, says
“There’s only—let me check—yes—fifty-two cents.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She tilts her head. “Sorry.”
The sorrow is genuine.
He wears a pinstripe suit, frayed,
wafting an odor of smoke and earth.
A smartly folded handkerchief, breast pocket,
has a dark stain. His silver beard
is neatly trimmed.
On one wall above the safe is a giant
mural of teamsters driving a stagecoach.
The man says, “There might be—”
“No. It’s always the same.”
For a moment he closes his eyes,
a slow blink while indignities of a lifetime pass.
Without a word, the young woman slides a sandwich
over the countertop through the teller window.
“Blessings on you,” the man says with a nod,
and he walks away with a limp.
I cash my check, a big one
from three days of messy labor
for a matron of the horsey set.
“He lives by the creek,” the teller says
without my asking. “Under a bridge.”
Outside the bank, in the parking lot of glistening cars,
I look around for the pinstripe suit, the silver beard.
I might offer the man something.
He might refuse to take it.
Anyway, no matter:
he has disappeared like the last stagecoach.
Only the blessing remains.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 12:35 PM UTC
~for Lori Jones McCaffery who wrote me of:
“Her hands lay gently joined”
“So tenderly put”
<>
So sweet and tenderly put this trilateral phrase, a complement,
So sweet and tenderly put this lovely, geometrical compliment,
thus birthing this missive that was delivered in a mere 9 minutes,
a simple re-tribute to a poem scraped from eyelids, leaked from
my heart
of what
I Witnessed,
of what
I Emoted
as my woman,
rustled besides me in the early morning sheets,
stirring my heart, as she astirring slowly awake.
love this title Lori has gifted me, for so few and far
are the in-betweens of the people, places and things,
that are so tenderly inserted in this banged up humdrum,
football game of daily living, pierced by primary moments,
even secondary seconds, of heart~glows that pierce the noise,
even-in-silence put a suffusion of the chest, kissing of the brain,
colored kernels that dare not go unnoticed, this eloquent, perfect,
thank you is a whispering tremolo note that
wakes me up again, with scents of gratitude, for those
who take care, those who give care, who value tenderness
in soft spoken gestures, brash and bold, smartly wisdomed,
so to honor her, to honor this moment of grateful inspiration,
I insert the exact moment these senses imploded in my chest,
ordering me to give thanks, take care, validate the valuation of words,
so tenderly put
2:10pm Mon Jan 30 2023
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 2:27 PM UTC