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Johnny Zhivago Aug 2013
Spanish influenza
walking pneumonia
icepick headache
common cold
whooping cough
Diabetes
anorexia
getting old

flat foot
bad back
heel spur
heart attack
spasticus
autisticus
tongue tied
amb(i)dextrous

my weakness
is my forte
my sickness is  my skill
my illness
is my realness
it makes my life a thrill


Trying to fight this
bronchitis
gangrene
runny nose
frostbite
tooth decay
hat hair
broken bones

bed bound
shell-shocked
flea ridden
sinusitis
cholera
dropsy
eliphantitis
out-all-nightis

wom­b fever
winter fever
black water fever
remitting fever
ship fever
jail fever
camp fever
or schizophrenia

scarlet fever
tuberculosis
American plague
rock n roll
Wheezing
Paralysed
Got gas
In both holes

rabies
scabies
rickets
and SARS
man flu
bird flu
swine flew
from Mars

multiple sclerosis
tennis elbow-sis
stomach ulcers
and leukaemia
night blindness
hypothermia
lung cancer
sickle-cell anaemia

French pox
Lockjaw
Polio
Gout
Nostalgia
Dropsy
Knocked right
Out

Stuttering
Bellyacher
Anti-social
Leprosy
Sleep walker
Sleep talker
Absent minded
OCD

Tourettes, ****
Pyromania
tonsillitis
Conjunctivitis
Food poisoned!
Warted over
My Psoriasis
(Will I survive this?)

Measles
Malaria
Meningitis
Migraine
Scrum-pox
Worm fit
Water on
the brain

apparitions
seeing things
rattly chest
bad breath
la duzi
tormentation
inflammation
black death

measles
malaria
migrane
mumps
leprosy
lice and
leg bone
lumps

kleptomania
bubonic plague
black *****
feeling ****
bone shave
falling sickness
wanna stop
just cant quit

Huntington's and
Parkingson's and
Hare-lipped
Hay fever
Typhoid fever
Glandular fever
Night fever
And Hysteria

intellectual
dyslexia
dysfunctional
family
cancer crab
stillborn twin
bad blood
epilepsy

Parking spot
disabilities
all the wounds in
all the militaries
pity thee with
lost agility
lost babes or
infertility

ear infection
starvation
Hepatitis
E to A
smallpox
chicken pox
cow pox
what a day

tuberculosis
stuttering
panic stricken
star struck
scurvy
shingles
headless chicken
bad luck


paranoid
in the void
premature
*******
stomach ulcers
feeble pulses
chronicled
*******

autistic
gallstones
double-jointe­d
wrists and knees
consumption
bad digestion
quinsy palsy
ticks and fleas

amnesia
typhus
amnesia
heart failure
radiation
cholera
amnesia
bad behaviour

Hypochondriac?
By gosh, no!
Poorly are ye?
‘Fraid so.


nostalgia
        suffer me
wanderlust
suffer me
insomnia
suffer me
loneliness
let me be



god
complex
mother
complex
father
complex
ego
complex

­

its complicated
im superior
its complicated
im inferior
its complicated
im a short man
got ingrown hairs
got a bad tan



im suffering
ocd
im suffering
obesity
im suffering
jealousy
xenophobia
and nosebleeds



stokholm
syndrome
toxic shock
syndrome
got it down
syndrome
irritable bowel
syndrome

yellow nail
syndrome
stevens-johnson
syndrome
restless leg
syndrome
shoulder-hand
syndrome

lambert-eaton
syndrome
mi­ddle-lobe
syndrome
mobius
syndrome
pickwickian
syndrome

post rubella
syndrome
riley day
syndrome
straight back
syndrome
ulysess
syndrome



alcoholics
we are prone
drug addicts
we are prone
mind benders
we are prone
fortune spenders
we are prone



My illness, my illness
My illness is my realness

*Pick it up
Tide it over
Fight it off or
Cave in

Save it
Suffer it
Pass it on
When its Raining

bleed him
restrain him
shave his
head

he went from being
quite well
to being quite
dead.
unfinished but did you bother to the end?
Susan O'Reilly May 2013
Ah, often the salesman doth smile too much
usually means what he’s selling doesn’t work
He’s got the knack though the midas touch
he can sell ice to the eskimo, ****
He has got the patter down, off the cuff
On unsuspecting spenders he does lurk
To praise and extol his dubious stuff
If you purchase, commission, that’s his perk
My heart falls to my toes, he makes it lurch
Flattery can work on my emotions, park
Other day couldn’t get rid, sold a torch
To dodge him be up earlier than lark
Next time I see him I’m running away
Especially when its precious pay day
Haley Oct 2018
Time is a commodity, too.
We spend it recklessly on social media and snooze buttons,
constantly digging a rut of debt with our inattentive minds.

We trade so much for our each and every paycheck,
yet we don't flinch at the loss of minutes on a pocket watch,
so don't ask me where this world has gone.
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Qui Transtulit Sustinet

There sat CONNECTICUT, a twit
blue nanny-state, and doomed to sit
on welfare-warrens of the ******
her social service on demand.
She withers on NEW ENGLAND‘s vine
a bygone has-been, and a sign
of democratic overkill
where her once-dear and verdant rill
now stagnant flows: polluted stream
a moribund New England dream.
The richest state with poorest heart:
the Northeast’s saddest story. Part
of history’s renowned revival,
now irrelevant. Survival
chains her children in dependence
keeping back the state’s ascendance.
Apostate Puritan, grown old—
for LIBERTY, no longer bold;
a slave to Man, where once God’s WORD
awakened greatness. Souls were stirred
in ENFIELD (of all strange places),
Christ beheld in radiant faces . . .
Edwards held their spellbound souls
like spiders over flaming coals,
in gratitude for Gospel grace
renewing thus both town and race.
But I digress. Connecticut
is what I came to speak about:
forgotten dull colonial matron
yoked in failure, plebe as patron
nostalgic for her Charter Oak
whose deadwood limbs went up in smoke
along with dark tobacco wrap
while the plantation took a nap.
Her social programs overgrowth
pose forest fire-risk. Under oath
her public servants signal virtue;
sign which really should alert you
to the democrat-machine’s
impending failure (ways and means).
Nutmeg-addled Tax-and-spenders,
dollar drunks on welfare benders
widen economic rifts;
force single moms toward double shifts
while Latin Kings hold court in prison
waiting out their royal season:
fiscally unsustainable—
yet totally explainable
(nutmeg is a drug for witches
spendthrift warlocks, bankrupt *******).
Oh HARTFORD, city of the dead
which dies at five, then home to bed,
insurance once assured your rise;
but now your ghosts haunt sadder skies.
Your life displaced, outsourced, out-dated;
so, it seems, your fall was fated.
Meanwhile, close to New York City,
fairer fields are growing pretty
long on corporate commutes.
Data-driven growth computes
as data-drivers flood the roads
and enter by Manhattan-loads
from golden coasts’ Atlantic shores
and posh patrician golden doors
to bite the apple of our time:
a number-cruncher built on crime.
New England’s puritannic granny
(data-driven tyrant ******)
seeks to harbor tropic isles
with blandly bureaucratic smiles.
Your poor dear heart cannot afford
to welcome every island lord
who looks to better his estate
and so decides to emigrate.
Displaced Jamaicans outta yard
compel the soft verse to get hard.
Boricua separatists, dispersed
show nationalities reversed
and dwell between two foreign lands
in Spanglish no one understands.
Such nutmeg gets the covens high
to soar the stormy Liberal sky.
It’s Yankee hubris: condescension
taxing plebes for such dissension.
Though you connect, there I would cut,
excising from New England’s gut
metastasizing social tumors:
clueless and obese consumers,
teenage moms, pajama-clad
whose nenes wait in vain for dad.
QUI TRANSTULIT SUSTINET—truth . . .
but that was was in our nation’s youth.
She’s gotten worse with passing years
confirming citizens’ worst fears;
showing her colors every vote
her monotone, a droning note
on which the blue-bloods hang their hue
when hope and change are overdue.
Her atheist zeal meets Yankee pride:
a most progressive broomstick ride;
oblivious to her Christian past,
an enemy of God at last.
Senryu and Haikai:
Basho-san, can you get me
another beer, please?
Listen to this spoken word piece here -->
http://soundcloud.com/mcvegh/watching-the-time

They say that the present is only clear through rear views,
so watch who steers you and be cautious of whats near you.
Keep the road on your eyes if you are going to drive
most strive to survive -some catch curbs and nose dive.
And their story has no scribe no medicine to prescribe
no assets to divide there's no fence and no sides.
When things start to slip and you try to tighten your grip
it leaves us all clenching a fist -a weapon attached at the wrist.  

But don't fight the present.

I've taken my lessons from clocks
their ticks and their tocks have taught
not to forget but some things are best left forgot.
Manage your times with intention,
go at it with apprehension
avoiding epochs of detention and not to mention
The stress of pressure cannot be measured
and never is pleasured
even when it ends in success the stress is just less
and lets face it; the work is never the best.
Never the less the lesson on stressin is things take time,
days, months, and years will all pass through in moments
be okay with no chance to hold it
and just relax, you can't take it back.
But feel blissful about it
time keeps going don't doubt it
the futures been scouted out
now we just gotta decide the route.

And you are decision makers
your parents, your friends and neighbours,
the old folks and the teenagers,
the spenders and money savers.
We all come in different flavours
all in need of different favours
each of us could be anothers saviour.
But instead our behaviour: leaves us in wanting
the way that were cold is daunting
and in a cold world those ticking hands can seem haunting.

So I hope this rhyme on time
helps to remind your minds
we all walk the line with time
though its silent like pantomime.

So understand time is a factor of plans
and we all have to meet its demands
because, still: it will never stand.
This one is recorded on soundcloud, it was just plain fun to write.  I had honestly been going through a major writer's block so writing anything that I don't immediately hate afterwards was a huge success. Hope you enjoy.
Seema Jan 2018
A dying horse,
Was being dragged over a marked cross,
On the ground its body lay,
Mocked and tortured up all the way,
Only few blinks with tears filled eyes,
Waiting for its beats to stop while the time flies,
There it lay next to its grave,
Hoping to be pushed in by the masters slave,
A few more minutes before the soul surrenders,
Once loved and praised by many spenders,
Now the weak await for the death to fall,
To free its soul from its body, once admired by all,
The eyes stopped blinking,
The tears stopped rolling,
The heart stopped beating,
The poor horse stopped breathing,
Pushed in its grave by the masters slave,
No one to praise or raise hands to wave,
Gone are the people who came along,
Finally resting its body in the grave alone...

©sim
Spilling imagination. Inspired by a picture of a horse.
BJFWords May 2017
The apple of one's eye.
The creme de la creme.
The buffet at the wedding.
Where it's us and them.

The glow of the neon.
Instructing us to buy.
The latest moisturiser
For wrinkles round the eye.

The canvassers cold selling.
The need of starving cats.
The aforementioned wedding.
The shopping for the hats.

So come give us your money.
Your precious hard earned cash.
We'll offer you perfection.
In your supermarket dash.

The things you'll buy tomorrow.
Are better than today.
The new improved conditioner.
The advertisements say.

Consumers to be nourished.
Big spenders treated well.
You'll need a coat for winter.
And scarves and coats as well.

Your funeral arrangements.
A monthly simple plan.
Your loved ones fear when you're not here.
You've left them all you can.

So now our claws are in you.
Please kindly move along.
The facts and claims are always true.
We're seldom told we're wrong.

We're business types converting.
Your little wants to needs.
We'll squeeze you dry until you die.
From birth we plant the seeds.
Ken Pepiton May 2019
Who, me. I don't know,
I'll ask We, the people.

How has the world,
the one we share, you with me, I with thee,
how has our reality
come to today
surrounded by hooting proud warriors lauding their leaders
made kings by the magi and the tax collectors and spenders?

That's the question.
I think it's a test, or a temptation, knowing the answer might **** us.

Do the math, or believe an expert who says
he knows he knows, an
experienced thinker and weigher of big ideas.

Choose an expert, Yahoo, Goggle experts in interesting time one.
You choose.
Only for now. These teasing toy journeys are only real
in your way of thinking.

An expert in words at play or
an expert in words of war
or work or woe or
joy and
strength'n'vigorishit--
use-ery compounded into stone
an expert in dark, full-on absense of light, al
right, al
ready -- the expert
you let be smarter than you, by God, or any other witness,

that expert better be having more than historical authority, okeh.

Gears used to grind, stick-shift,
yoost to lever m'thematically synchronized
wheels in wheels,
lesser gears, experienced old grease monkey knows,
between those,
is where m'monkey wrench goes.

Bring wheels in wheels to a screeching halt!

Like by the River of Tebar, very hard to write such thoughtscenes,
he trys, um-phailure, deep breath,

look around, selah.
Kiss the son, taste the son, know the son as brother, as gotchabacker
friend, who is the way, the truth, and the life.

No lie is of the truth. There is a basic algorythm in 2019.
AND in 2019 I have an idea that works for me,

the null set can hold any evil any mind, mortal or otherwise,
can conceive.

Napoleon Hill seeds sometimes sown as weeds to choke a crop of lies,
"What the mind of man can conceive, it can acheive."
Ah, so:
Man as a whole, he is thought to have meant, mankind, wombed and un;
but he may have meant man as in, any one man, wombed or un.

--- end first course --- recycle all utensils
an exexcerpt ussurpet my stuttering muse has returned, Any interest in a novel written in this style?
Minuscule Ego Jan 2016
Liberians, US blenders
Always known to portray the best things
Yet are nothing like those other big lenders
But are always assume to hold the worst things
Is that the reason why they are always the big spenders
Always the ones to portrayed the best of the worst things.

"Liberians portray nothing to hold the big things."
Liberia- Tis not much, but tis wholeheartedly true.
Mitchell Aug 2011
No no no
The words are streaked in ink not of mine
Tonight the clouds
Are white an' smell of pine

The night is not
A friend of either yours or mine
The night
Is a friend
Of nature's ill advised
Sign

Take
What you will
Swill all the
Bills

Advise
The Ancestors
Because weight sees
All the past
Spenders
Wallets, users, adopters, memes
Savings, shelters, income streams
Everywhere you look, it seems
Bitcoin keeps on growing

Holders, spenders, miners too
Aficionados, old and new
Look around, it’s in plain view
Bitcoin keeps on growing

Over time, it grows in price
It’s grown 1000x, twice!
So focus now & grab your slice  
Bitcoin keeps on growing

Some buyers public, some anon
Price will soar when most is gone
A pristine asset to lean upon
Your Bitcoin keeps on growing
This is Bitcoin Poem 016 at BitcoinPoems.pro and you can see it displayed on a background when you (copy and paste the link below).
https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery016KeepsOnGrowing.html
wash it wash out wash it wash out
let it turn
hoot and a holler
bottled up all day
and like bubbly bottles burst
take my toll
fierce, almost fictional
but never hostile
transcend your barriers and let your impulses take you towards the next side of the room
and then back again
its over and over and over
hear the trumpet whail its sorrow
circling, round, round, round
love, a mist, love to die for
unseen unconditionl surrender
ooohohohoaoh
e,njoy a gin and tonic, and ,dress that ,was fash,ionable at ,som, e point b,ut is in deeper,ate ne,ed of ,recur ,,, , , , rence
the glasses are thick and so is t he smoke that lingers above conv,eras,--------tions and weaves be d,, tween the textu--------res of the deep green trees and their abundant philosophical relatab======le language and you fall into their ro000000000ots, you drUUUUUug their holes and youuuuuu lOOOOOve the earth the same way you love a compliment
Ahhh yeahhh!!!,you're looking the best you have in your life
there is a melody somewhere in the background but your attention is on the person in from of you, the enthusiasm in their voice, and how quickly you are able to agree with them
anticipate like disneyt, tpoets businesses, bartenders, bar menders, cleansers inspectors interpreters judgmenters allocate the spenders reaching out for new vendeor whose the best the lesser??
LET ME GOOOOOOOOO
its warm man, you have a smoke?
swomen, lights, some monument sky high lithe buddah lights little u[p with orange with luck on straight spinnings what was that? take another drink, hey whats your name? I'm from california you like surfing politics I odn'tk know I need to meet my friend
fix fix fix do I need to finish that paper? fixixixifiixx what will my mother say????
you met another guy who is dancing with a girl and he is cool and he is gesturing towards you with his glass of champagne and you
tilt up ystaree he cbottole of beer, but his kindness lingers as you stare into your glass andI smile when? wrong time go away fog forward gly He cracks a really funny joke about your smile
HAHAHHAHAAH
The movie, the movie, those time when I am removed from things and the

My mind balloons and its... delicious
Contact me, I love new friends =)
jeffrey robin Nov 2014
( <       +      > )
////  • ||
<>

|~|

                                             ( Venusoul 7 ---- shining down from heaven
                                                     In a quantum
                  mechanistic way )

••

so that we should not have lived in vain

//                    
                                                  //

we met at the EASTER STREET FAIR

in

LITTLE ITALY

in NEW YORK CITY

••

strangers on the porch stoop

( we are still there )

ETERNAL IS LOVE



we were quite poor

From the vendor we ordered

A slice of pizza cut in half

( with an extra plate , please !)

And a small soda

( with an extra cup please ! )

//

He threw up his arms and shouted

AH
THE LAST OF THE BIG-TIME SPENDERS !!

A crowd of about 500 people circled round

Laughing and grinning and giving us food !



It is now a sacred shrine !

Lovers who sit there always get married
Prosper
And have loving children

It's been that way for 50 years  !



Light from the sun

Light from the moon

Light from the heart !

                                 //

Come !

No need to yearn

No need to suffer

No need to die !

••

In the one soul

We are here

ALL       are here

::
FOREVER ?
( she comes and goes ! )
::

But all of Value

Always       remains

I LOVE YOU

floats freely

Let it be
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2021
i was never a fan of acronyms... it must be an w.a.s.p. "thing"
to have fallen in love with acronyms:
white... anglo-saxon... protestant...
i just imagine...
what it the Swabians or the Pomeranians...
were the chosen tourists...
nomads without a lament score...
oh god someone is oppressing the Saxons...
get to it: sort it out!
of all the Germanic peoples that came to these isles
after the fall of Rome...
my my... how the Saxons hijacked
the Welsh and the Scots for a prize of sending postcards
from the Raj... some remote Pacific Islands...
i live among these people...
morphed by some added French...
i don't like acronyms: i don't like acronym speech...
it's like... the alphabet twice-over...
organised to suit some secret society...
yawn...
so when i was living out my: soul-osmosis:
psychosis of my 20s...
mid-way through my 30s i stopped taking
the pills i was prescribed:
what waited was a hunger so cycling...
and ingesting electrolytes...
and vitamin B12 supplements...
which translated into 2 cycling sessions a day...
i was going to ask my mother and my father
concerning being irritated
about some...minor bureaucratic doodle
of a vaccine passport...
i could have been riddled with radioactive
juice from 1986... oh yes... the effects of Chernobyl
came around... some of the trees turned
autumnal in the middle of spring:
with streaks of radioactive death...
19 days... pass enough time just emerging as a foetus:
those just might be aeons...
scribble some radioactive juice...
well... a pretty picture...
i'm giggling though... inside and out...
i hate acronym language...
long before the "movement"...
"lifestyle choice"...
i only heard about it then youtube stopped
suggesting me new music to listen to...
apart from the channel harakiri diiat...
i came across videos of political commentary...
later... the... ahem...
    MIG-TOW... MIG-TAO...
Mikoyan... towing...
       or the Mikoyan Tao...
it's a pseudo-take of the fighter jet...
a Russo-Chinese hybrid project...
it's not a fighter-jet...
unless... fighter-jets have a Taoist sensibility
built in them... ha...
it's this "movement" via the acronym MGTOW...
i don't like acronyms...
point being... you don't really need
classical socialism... or their current
pseudo-arguments of inclusivity... blah blah...
best represented blah blah...
you have these... men... in a society...
where... harem quotas are no met...

daseine: da (there) + seine (being) = concern...
dast seine: da- (there) + i-st (is) + seine (being) = potential...
all on conjured up via a blitzkrieg
on a bicycle... mediating heavy traffic...
happens... all the ******* time...
i curse the nerve-wrecks that drive cars...
a woman in mini-cooper: sized so: ||
will require... this much space: |          |
to overtake you...

but a man in a HGV... or a bus... sized so: |          |
will require... this much space: ||
to overtake you...
as an aggressive cyclist...
i can't exactly indicate cycling up a *******
hill...
it's sometimes too late coming to a roundabout...
but then again: some indicators of direction
are already painted onto the tarmac...
traffic is not a game for solipsists...
when the former happens
i curse: it would have taken you...
20 more bypassing rounds around
me... doubling down:
when i see a Nissan Micra / a mini cooper
overtake me... while it was taking its time:

WHERE'S... THE... *******... PANZER!

- i'll just draw the sketch in writing...
fiddle with some phonetic cul de sacs..
you draw the bigger picture: the Kandinsky moment...
i don't need socialism to argue my point...
as much as abhor the acronym...
what could possibly undermine capitalism:
not that i want it undermined...
men not coupling with women...
men are not the spenders...

i can attest... one visit in a brothel once every half
a decade will not solve the demand for...
her... make-up chemo-therapy....
i mean... i can swap a good enough amount
of *** for... she's charging me £2 per minute...
perhaps dentists own as much...
perhaps... i spend my money on
essentials...
bicycle oil... whiskey... ******* flour...
to thicken a curry sauce...

                  capitalism works when...
men are willing to give up their money
for other men to make money from
the women who will spend it...
what if i'm not willing to couple up
with a woman who will spend it on...
*******-tides-&-screws...
the argument is a softened teddy: bear
of a pork **** hammered flat into a schnitzel...
why is my grandmother becoming more
estranged from...
she kept my grandfather's deterioration
a secret... come death: the end...
hardly any argument willing: to be satiated with
any pleasure for the juice of: life...

who needs socialism... to undermine capitalism?
when you can simply have men
detached... divorced... from the spending spree prowess
of women?!
maybe capitalism is just choking everyone into:
abundantly: more! more!
but what if there's no more to spend?
i don't need socialism...
socialism is for Syria... like it was for Poland
when World War II ended...
it's funny... did "my"... "my" people: ever
relish the concern for democracy...
will Poland become the new Vietnam?
sure... send in the black-*****-black-out
with eager future: single-moms...

do i look like someone willing to earn less
than i might spend more on?
the Teutonic Knights had a brothel
in their citadel of Marienburg...
i visit the brothel... once every half a decade...
i imagine she'll be ready to buy
buttons: a bear cub nibbled off my cardigan
at a Danzig zoo...

oh i can see how capitalism can be
undermined... it's already undermined...
the two tiers of spending...
i am prone to advertisement as a joke...
since i don't trust journalism..
but then i'm immune to advertisement
because...
i don't want to spend money...
i'd need a woman for that...
while a woman would eagerly spend:
spend... even if she doesn't have the money...

this one... softness for Islamic economics
hits true: all the time...
to abhor... the become tantamount in abhorring:
usury... this is the only redeeming
quality of Islam..
to hell with their theology...

if i were to... be loaned a pile of rubble...
why should i have to repay you...
a ******* mountain (of rubble)?

not being attached to a spending prowess of
a woman...
stale society: a walking abortion case...
must be designated a psychiatric diagnosis
to function: debilitated...
so much for those freed up lovers
of questionable purpose...
an hour with a ***** will "save" your economy...

the **** of the Sabine women...
too far fetched... for the quake of kings
resurrected for the hindsight of world war I...
the solo project: as each man be his...
tomb...

dasein(e) morphed -
a bit like with the clinger of Bastille...
marquis de sadé... no... women love to ****...
da (there) ist (is): sein (being)....
lightning stroked me...
sensible...

i like to "think" of pedestrians when cycling...
as.. pockets iof potential:
this "****" philosophical project
of "concern" is beside me....

dasein units of "potential concern":
versus... dastsein: units of "concerning potential"...
sharoened:
dasein: concern...
   dastsein: potential...
there is... being...
not that: there...not beng...
some germanic oops!

da-st'-sein...
DAST-SEIN...
  
it will not take socialism to undermine
the current schema of capitalism...
it will require the men themselves...
men uncoupled from the spending habits of
of... women....

bad cocktail... bad bad cocktail...
b'ah... the forest needs to breahe...
lend it some fire...
by way of:
i'll suffocate the whole economy with
replicas of moi...
she needs to spend:
but if i'm not coupled to a she:
who'll willing to sped...

who's spending who's tax-for-*******...
free?!
habiba Feb 2019
A bright dot within the grey background of low slung houses

She kicks up no gravel as she walks

The silence of a graveyard but with homes

White cars in front like grave stones



Thoughts are the wind on desert land,

Empty and idle versus gaunt and bare

Rubbing against each other; friction, no heat.



Outside this desolation footsteps echo,

Their rhythm reminding her of the ghetto,

The fear turns you watchful as the gecko,

Breath rushes out, see the little heart beat

Dust from the gravel clogs her nose.



She feels the shadow rushing,

It clamps from the back (there was no shushing),

Her hand in a grip nearly crushing,

Stale breath in her ear, a chokehold on her neck as they were struggling

A sting in her eyes she wasn't disposed to crying,

But as she felt the shadow grab hold she stopped pushing,

Knew he had won as sure as the gravel on which she was standing,



False entitlement we shall not allow,

So he took the bill upon which she'd been avowed,

Mother preferred she'd vanished along with that legal tender,

Yes, you can never trust these nine-year-old suspect spenders.
childhood memories, urbantheft, suburblife
longer than i could remember, this king (who still rules) invited excited spenders.

once drawbridge got let down, the floodgates of humanity poured into the city to snap up bargains.
  
no sooner than vendors set out merchandise, a swarm of fingers grabbed goodies.

wallets bulged with wads of cash itching to be spent by buyers swept up via mania.

like an organic being, a pandemonium prevailed infecting shoppers with feverish frenzy to stock bags with paraphernalia.

atop high perch, matthew felt ecstatic at what appeared as one swollen black shifting grounded cloud that swallowed shelves of wares.

Where can my family receive a little boost er shot of cash? just a small *** (about $1000.00) would be a welcome respite from my bankrupt account. 
-------------------------------------------------------­--

u fill in the expletive colorful bleep
per that i yam not a lurch ching Munster creep
juiced a harmless troll bait rent asunder tabula rasa
boot angst of penury doth penny tr8 real deep

dark cyber sea inundated with other earth-linked yahoos
lying amongst in a ur i ah heap
since bin ages since oye goot a peep
***** riotously footing ogling wealth to reap

wool lee ya be generous
fur shear lee Yukon give me legal tender
   ta help me sleep
oft times unable to suppress
   the unstoppable force to weep.
---------------------------------------------------------
P­OST SCRIPT NUMBER 891212:

hashed out about 123456789 hours ago
when i felt the bottom fell out - per no dough
helplessness ringing clangorously - no where 2 go
except...where many a G. I.

(which initials
  by the way mean galvanized iron) joe
so i rage against penurious
   dime men shuns of no mo'
- nope not even a red cent -

   filthy lucre, thus find ma self a po'
papa pressed withiN perdition of poverty,
where psyche under a ******>slash burn - argh - only i can rid this monetary
   impotence akin to TiVo
clearing application
   to blitz krieg commercials - thus woe....

angst begot from money woes.
ah...the glorious thought,
   whence never again
to cull demise and forever hibernate

feeling crushed by the egregious atrocious,
heinous, and nemesis, poor ring in of late
and thus this obituary epitaph of sorts
(no matter,
   he will opt for cremation) finds frenzied
strychnine, poison

   or hemlock appear savory to this pate
a chance pair of perusing eyes
may find this blurb unable 2 eke quate
this plea sprung

   from plethora of purse son hull wreck - i rate
anxiety sweeps across me
   mental nada so healthy state
which panic wrought from poverty
per prone nouns mints

   uber viz zit with undertaker tete a tete
of decades long bout with a psyche riddled
angst sh...us lee
   waiting for Godot - Becket ting

this papa, who **** courting escape from posse aye
misty eyed in midst of his own financial catastrophe
he loathes resorting to pan handling to help him get free
of pauperism, which haint no joke,

   and would find a scabrous reply
ample reason to still his life,
   though ma lovely daughters  
suffered psychic injury
and forever be psychologically marred

   if aye did merrily
row me figurative boat over the abyss prithee
and hope for instant death of mine aura,
charisma, and karma see?

tis probably pointless n frivolous
to expect presume salvation 4 this mw male
yet nothing ventured....
could do no worse as my psyche doth quail
for being nearly penniless

   (in this cornucopia of plenti), and rail
ling against fate may bring derision
   per an unpredictable scale
argh - doth hardly shed light
   on my penurious travail

cuz thy current checking account gasps
with a death rattle does wail...
boot juiced....maybe lady luck shall draw
the gaze of one philanthropic facebook peeper
(at least enough largesse

   to stave off self destruction of spouse)
welcome mat would willingly
   be laid out for grim reaper
to whisk me away -
  so i kin become an eternal sleeper
though each surviving loved one,
   would be inconsolable weeper.
Michael Marchese Jan 2018
Finish your thought
And I’ll tell you the problem
It’s shitholes still saying
This nation is great
When there’s so much more human
We have on our plate
Merely trends gender spenders
In ongoing races
To get to the bottom
Of cash system’s classroom
Outcaste standard test
Makes a mess of the cost of care
Valued at less
Than a greeting card, chocolate box life
Kind of rose
When it paints way more senses  
To feel the red prose
So keep toying with nukes
Like your insolent children
I play with the matches of infinite wisdom
As self-absorbed saviors of lovers unhappy
Pretend that they know what “in sickness” could mean
Why define “My Immortal” American dream
When I know you ain’t seen every scene on the screen that I’ve seen
But you know I believe that we both like the show
So keep watching the clock go right out the window
And go head over Helios, stop and then think
As you drink in addictions they’re making you sync
And then spill ‘em in history’s permanent ink
ymmiJ May 2019
Dee Cee big spenders
Silver cars and golden wives,
copper pennies clang
They talk now about two systems of justice
as if we hadn't known for years that there was
at least two tiers,

pharma drug barons buying a get out of jail pass
for millions, billions,
not forgetting the trillions wasted on pointless
exercises,

we're all paying for this
we might not think so
we might say,
oh no, not me
but we are,

feeling poorer?
sure you are,

but the big spenders bidding on bigger tenders
financed by the money lenders ( who make their
profits off you and me)
disagree
with my views.

fk 'em

— The End —