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NOLWAZI JOUBERT Jun 2015
I was never considered a friend,
just a classmate,
a time-pusher that was all i was.
But today,
i planted a smile.
A smile so deep and pure,
it came as a shock to her.
A surprize indeed.
But surely my own heart rejoices to know that i planted a smile.
I dream’d this mortal part of mine
Was Metamorphoz’d to a Vine;
Which crawling one and every way,
Enthrall’d my dainty Lucia.
Me thought, her long small legs & thighs
I with my Tendrils did surprize;
Her Belly, Buttocks, and her Waste
By my soft Nerv’lits were embrac’d:
About her head I writhing hung,
And with rich clusters (hid among
The leaves) her temples I behung:
So that my Lucia seem’d to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curles about her neck did craule,
And armes and hands they did enthrall:
So that she could not freely stir,
(All parts there made one prisoner.)
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts, which maids keep unespy’d,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took,
That with the fancie I awook;
And found (Ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a Stock then like a Vine.
Marisia Delafuga Nov 2014
Hey you!
As you are flirting with worries
the fire Of compassion Explodes within..
This Joke has to stop
Someday Somehow,
now!
Blame the Universe Blame the Chaos
It's easy my love..
So now, You and Your soul in A brand New Era..
How it feels to be this ******?
How it feels to Reborn again from this fire?
isn;t a surprise now?
You Did it!
Here Now and Ahead On..
Miracles flowing dancing exploding your way home..
Geno Cattouse Jun 2013
Unrepentant with a hole in her soul
The brass faced liar has steely control
Nothing fazez her. no fib was too big or small. Man this girl was a smooth criminal and a really close acquaintance

She would give a polygraph the shakes
and it's our little secret. umm, Mom and dad know.
family secret.

I reversed engineered the brass faced liar
and all the tumblers clicked.

The truth to her is like Kryptonite to Superman.
I dropped a small stone down her throat one day and counted to ten
before it hit bottom with a far away clunk..

Faceof brass ,heart of stone.animal rescuer
Liar to the bone. Manipulates children poor self esteem
Brass faced liar isn't what she seems.

Out.  To impress now.finally starting to dress now
Drawing flys like rotten meat.

Wicked comes in all shapes and sizes
Turn back the covers,know what your surprize is ?.

A zombie in a guilded mask.
Long dead and putrid..a walking talking husk.

Lies pour out of her mouth like green blowflies
And crawl back in under her disguise.
To fester.
Brass face jester
R.I.P.
B Jun 2013
cats looking into your eyes
what does they want
what iz they surprize

the cat attacks
it is my demize
the cat agrees
the cat complies

cats eating brown food
cats not happy
cats no happy mood

cats begin to smoke and drools
cats doing many things
cats really rude

cats
cats
cats

the cat the cat the cat

I see him
he is terror
coming from the skies
I see the cat
I see his eyes
I see the cat
it is my demize

cats
There once was a man,
On a high horse he sat.
Drinking his *****
He soon became fat.
He thought that he ruled
The world from on high,
Til the horse that he rode
Kicked this *** in the eye.
"You weigh way to much"
Said the horse to the man.
"Stay off of my back
Til you're a small man again".
The man puffed his chest
As he spit foul words.
The horse snorted and laughed.
He said "You're for the birds".
He trotted away,
Left the man standing there.
The man wandered in circles,
Justly going nowhere.
He kept going in circles
Til he lost many pounds.
To his surprize
The horse came back around.
Kindly he said,
As they stood face to face,
"Good thing you kept circling
Stead of standing in place.
You can get back on my back
If you promise you'll stay
As slender as that."
Soon they trotted away.

The moral my Dear
Of the story told here
Is.....
From a high horse
Is a long way to fall.
Especially, my friend
If your mind is quite small.

JMA  10/12/2011
Eaten inside I swar that I am
you riped me up and left me bleeding
I reatched for you with my last breath

HUNGERY
for the love I can not see
HUNGERY
for the compassion I can't truely understand

but I still Injured I crawed to you
dragging pices of myself behind
pices outhers will only kick away
push aside or even crush benieth there feet

without thought
without motive
without the simple act of Surprize

now I am NOTHING

not even the mirr fraction of a soul this festerd flash held Yesterday
I AM SOMETHING LESS then vermen
LESS then the Carcass
I am the MAGGOT Consoming the corpse

w
This is one of my newer poems written sometime in December (2010)
pweez comment.
Ottar Feb 2015
Hear the motions of the engines,
Speed South to North,
As well North to South,
Care not they, the sounds they make.

It is a confession.
They speed in the land of ****.
It increases, then decreases,
As they travel past, the open window,
Winterless blast, a confession,
It feels close to spring.

Care not a bit that sounds, rude, to those who tomorrow,
Will wake up to snow, while the blizzard sounds here,
Are the rush of thoughtless trucks and cars,
Which are driven at speeds above the posted limit,
Even if they don't have to travel so far,
To get home in the drizzle, to their green grass.

Maybe snow would slow them down,
Or keep them off the road entirely,
No, no, not them, they are rude,
They have this attitude,
Drive like this, no matter what the weather,
They are better than the conditions, they drive in.

Another confession, they are in it to win, and no one
else knows there is a contest and contestants.

What a surPrize!

Hand him a sextant as he drives at night, after all he has to navigate,
Through Facebook and Likes and texts and bytes of downloads from
YouTube...would not want to be fashionably late in reply otherwise
Your social life, and status,
may die.

Trafficking bad habits,
Instead of "look out for the other guy or gal"
The phone and the life it holds,
can be dropped,
"worse than a dropped call",
is all the sirens wail as they go by,
Life in the balance, ghosts
White knuckling it with one hand,
While eyes are fixed, to a deathly white screen
And fingers dance solo in some sexless act,
The result is the same a distracted fact,
The mind is no longer in the car,
It has left the body already,
Waiting for it to die,
Watching from above and reaching to all
Who have fingers and a phone
Wanting to be ghosts and sticking to the life,
Which will make it happen.....by accident.

Drive defensively,
Leave your phone in the trunk.
Please don't text and drive
Hands free honestly
Show your family, you do love them.
Lyn Senz Nov 2013
Swollen besotted
cloudy eyes
it's no surprize
you've forgotten lies
and after all
it's what you're
drinking for

well their shallow voices
hurt my ears
awake my fears but
no more tears
I'll just go to the store
once more
with riddled past my past
is present
see they're all Kings
and I'm a peasent
and I can't be pleasent
anymore
it's what I'm drinking for

and she's not me
no she's so free
so heavenly
atleast it seems

so I go low and wander slow
no one to tow along
and the race is won
with the setting sun
I'm right where we belong

with silent screams
and faded dreams
til there's no more war

it's what we're drinking for


©2002 Lyn
memoona kazmi Aug 2019
Wish you happiness and surprize
To the dusk from the sun rise
May you get a happy day
All I want to say my friends is
Happy birthday.....
Happy 27th birthday M-E..... Today is my very special friend's birthday... May you have many many more.  .......... It 12 o clock in pakistan.. So acordi g to my country time,happy birthday to you
I looked into the mirror .
Saw that I was fifty five.
I pondered for a moment
That I was still alive.
My face is still the same one,
Though lines surround my eyes.
Again I glanced back at myself
Taken with surprize.....
The curves still curved
In places that they should,
My derrier was hanging there
Looking pretty good.
I smiled to myself, to think
I've really been quite blessed
Time was kind, I still look fine
Especially when I'm dressed.

JMA c 7/15/08
Jerry Howarth Oct 2021
This is not a poem, this is a story of a an 83 yr old man, that
got away with lying aboat his actual age, so he could box,
for the light weight Dallas County Iowa, championship.

"Howath is the name and these are my two knock out fists, Gerald
and Ron, and I'm here to sign up for the light heavy weight championship boxing title of Dallas County."

That was my official registration to the County boxing Commisson.
They of course ask me my age and some other questions related to
my boxing experience, to which I lied very convincingly.

By the way, the way to lie convincinly is to literally believe yourself what you are lying about. I had spent hours telling myself the lies I told the Boxing Commission, so they had no doubt about what I told them about my boxing experience. I even had some fake newspaper articles about my boxing experiences that I printed on my home printing press. I'll tell more about this later in this story.

What motivated me o do this, was the current chjampion was the
Grandson of one of my high school class mates that I detested, because h was such a proud blow hard, about every athletical thing
he did, from being a baseball pitcher, a running back football player,
a wrestler and on and on he bragged about himself. One time when
I could not somach his bragging and pompous ay he walked, I confonted him to his face, actually his chin, as that was as close to
his face I stood. He was aout 6' 4'' and I was slightly over 6'. I looked him in the eyes and told him I and every one else in school was sick
and tired of his bragging about himself.

He then sneared a me, reached down and gabbed me by the coller of my shirt, and said. "Why you little dumb pimpsqueet, you aint nothing but a hog raising farm boy!" and shoved me hard against
the hall way wall, so I smacked the back of  my head against it, and
knocked out for a few minutes, long enough for someone dumping a cup full of water on my face to bring me alert. Then ol blow hard
spread it around that I had attemped to hit him and he "just naturally" defended himself and gave me a little shove.

But back to the main part of this story, I had been working out in the city gym, workig on my cardio, thats my breathing. I had been keeping up with my physical condition all of my life, so for an 83 yr old man  I am in good physical shape. I have been punching the heavy bag on daily basis , and have had someone bouncing a heavy medicine ball on my stomach five minutes every day, so I have  those three muscle stand outs on my stomach, tht every body ooos and aaas about.

I also sparred with young boys around 20 and 30 years old, convincing them I was just 28, by my foot work and bobbing and weaving and left hand jabs. I still had a good head of hair, which I
had dyed a light black, which also convinced the boxing commission that I was 38, actually the year I was bornd, 1938

My boxing bout with the young grandson of this high school class mate that I detested, was suppoe to be just a warm up match for him, in preperation for a title fight. He was the Dallas County Light Heavy Weight champion defending his title against some unbeaten
opponant. My goal was to knock him out, and disqualify his title fight.

Oh yes, I neglected to mention my boxing manager, who was a young 62 year old retired boxer. He didn't grow up in
Dallas County, Iowa,  so he had no idea of my bckground age. He came from New York or New something.  I had him convinced that I was just 38 yrs old also. I grew up in a small town called Clive about 60 miles from Des Moines, were the fight was scheduld. Clive was a town with a population of around 2500 when I lived there. Most of the people who knew me are living under ground,
or in a old folks home, so the secret of my age will not be revealed.
,
This grandson of the school mate I detested, is just like his Dad, a smart mouth, bragging, pompous, cocky strutton show boat. He has no idea who I am, but has already started boasting about what he is going to do t me.

"Hey, I'm only 27 yrs old and this old man I'm fighting is 38 yrs old. Somebody will have to help him through the ropes to get in the ring." "What's an old man like him still thinks he is a boxer?

"He ought to be sitting on his back porch, watching the rabbits and squirrels hop around."

"He claims  to be 38 yrs old, I'll knock him out in 38 seconds in round 3."
   ,
He came to the gym when I was working out one morning to scout me out; I put on an act of being slow and winded.

He yelled at me from a few feet away, "Hey old man, my kid sister
has a faster jab then you. You sure you want to fight me?"

My manager walked up to him, and gave him a double arm shove
out the door, so hard he stumbled. "You big mouth punk, crawl
back in the skunk hole you came from."

                           The Big Fight

I was in the ring first, and was warming up wih litle dance steps I had had learned in a dance studio, which I intended to use on him, BTW  his name was Virgil Thornley, but he took pride in calling himself, "V T"=Very Tuff.

He was taking his time coming to get nto the ring,  and when he did decide to enter, he did so with a bunch of short skirted cheer leading girls dancing to loud music being played. When he approched the ring, two of the girls, squatted down on one knee and VT than made a big show of standing on each of their leg, and pushed himself off, tumbling over the ropes onto the ring apron.
amid 40,000 loud cheering fans.

"Enjoy it while you can VT, becaus in about 15 minutes, five three minute rounds, yu're gonna have 40,000 stunned fans looking at you, sprawled half way under the ring ropes, watchng the referee
waving the fight over."
                                ROUND ONE
JT came quickly to the center of the ring with a stupid looking
grin on is face, hands down, swinging back and forth at his waist level.

I took a couple steps towad him, then through him a big surprize,
that stopped him in his tracks. I did a little two step tap dance, and in the few seconds it took him to recover from surprize, I took a quick step toward him and shot out a left jab, purposly hitting
his right eye. Over my years of boxing experience, I developed a
fast twist at the end of the jab. This little twist would tear the skin
producing a cut in the eyebrow, which it did to VT. I don't think he had ever bee cut before by the way he wiped his eye, leaving his face unprotected, of which I took advantage, and smacked him with
another quick jab on his nose, drawing another spurt of blood.

VT wasn't expexcting such an early barrage of attack, and strted back peddling. Once again, I put on my little tap dance,
to a 40,00 applauding, whistling crowd of men, women and teen agers. By now ol VT had no idea what to do with me. He took a quick look over at his corner for help. And when he did I took a big step foward and planed to quick left jabs on each of his eyes.

I heard the fight annoncer telling the radio listners, he had never seen such a show boating boxer like  Howarth is putting
on. He has VT totally confused, not knowing what to do with
him. He came in to this fight as a warm up for his upcoming defensive championship fight with Scrapiron Peel and he is being bloodied and cut up, by what in the boxing sport is considered old, a man close to his 40's but is moving like a 25 or 26 year old. Folks I don't recall Howarth in any past fights, but uh, hang on a moment Howarth is moving around VT, bobbing, weaving and talking to him, I can't quite read his lips, but someting about going down in uh, some round. Meanwhile VT continues to back peddle away from Howath, who is trying to cut him off....Oh! now Howarth stops chasing him and motioned with his hands to come in and fight. There's the bell ending this third round.

There is some kind of commotion going on behind me.... some one wants to tell me something, but is being detained by the police.
Hey officers, let him talk to me. Folks, this is the crasiest night I have ever experienced, let's see what this old man, I'm serious about Old, He mst be  "Uh how old are you, sir?"

"I'm just a couple years younger than Howarth. We  grew up together in Perry, Iowa. I'm 81 years old and that old man in the ring, he was known as "Howie" is 83 years old and...."

"Hold on just jack rabbit minute! Are you telling me, that Howarth,
  what did you call him? Howie, that boxer in the ring,  beating VT, the current light weight Dallas County champion, is 83 years old? Is that what you are saying?"

"Yep, dats whot Im sayng.We growed up t'gether, in da same school t'gether, wrestled and boxed t'gether, and I'm 81 years old and he was alays 2 yars older'n me, so I knows he is 83 yars old.

Folks., getting back to the igh, VT is circuling to his right to get in position to throw is left hook and then is righ overhand knock ut puncht . I think Howie is aware of what VT is trying and keeps circing to his left.


This is the  the round Howarth bragged he would KO VT. VT is coming out in his usual swagering way, Howarth had him intimiated in the first four rounds, with his little dancing jig and blooding his nose and eye. VT wasn't use to that kind of pressure, but his corner manager and some others that joined him, gave him a little pep talk, and so he has regained his cofidence. As usual Howarth, trys his little tap dance aa he approaches VT, it's gotten a little much and no one is cheering it.

I failed to ask you, old man, your name"

"I was known as Scrapieon in Perry, my real ame isRichard Peel.
Yo said dis is da round Howie is going to lower da boom on this young feller?"

"Well that's what he told the fight reporters in the news paper. But frankly, I have doubts that he can do it. Thus far all I've seen from your friend is  a few left jabs. He hasn't used his right in the entire fight."

"Well you just keep your eyes on his right; what yor going to see is a flurry of left jabs, ad out of nowhere his right and will suddenly show up and that will be the end of the fight."

Well folks there is just three minites left i thos round, if Howie is going to KO VT, he is ging tp alf to get more agressie than, oh,Howie just connected with a double left jab, and another one and he had VT weak leggedfromma barrage of jabs. He looks like he is about to go down OH WOW Howie hit him with a straight right hand punch right between his eyes and VT is on the canvas, tryng too ge up, the count is up to 5, 6,7 VT was up at the cnt of 8 bt collapst. The referee is waving the figt over, and tne Dallas County  light heavy weight champion has been kocked out by Howie Howarth in the 5th round just as he predicted.
ROUND oxing epeiec
I had a dream last night
Not to clear what it was about
All I know is that I needed help
I waited
Glancing only to see you turn the corner
An unexpected surprize
To see your glitterly blue eyes
We made eye contact
There were smiles and butterflies
I had never worked with you before
Yet, you were the solution
That I was looking for
Sequal to Rewind


Copyright 2013 © J. Barraza
Geno Cattouse Feb 2013
Tonight I. Stood next to a moaning spirit.
She told of days gone by and grief.
The low and mournful sighs delivered me to her doorstep
The portal where no light shone within.

The graveyard beckoned as I walked the quiet path.
Once inside the spirits rose from every corner. One wafting spectre
Drifted near she floated then stood on a headstone all alone. Stepping

down she rested a chill on my right shoulder. Fetted breath took me by surprize. Vacant eyes told a lifes story.

Faded youth. Faded glory. The spirit lived a fitfull life and passsed
With no fanfare. To sullen darkness. She did rest one hundred years.
Now told her tale.
To me. I gently. Aked why?
You are the catcher for my pain. She told the story
Once again then turned her back.
Wafted once again to rest. In peace.
Marisia Delafuga Mar 2015
Excusez moi, Could you please help me finding the Jim Morrison's Tomb?
- We're searching too!
- Where Do you come from?
- I'm from Mars! haha.. Oh! well I'm currently living in Hellas
- Oh! We've been in Greece a week Ago.. and now we're carry on our
HolyDAYz in Paris and Then back in Mexico to our home..
- You Are Home.
Earth is your Home
- ...
Ah! Thank you ( Sacred Surprize in silence..)
Nice To meet you.

- You're Welcome.
Nice to meet you too..
Vladimir s Krebs Dec 2015
when you saw me all alone. have you realized that i am like a loaded gun that will fire with out a saft'y. have you seen the world behind me. have you realized my life has set the world in a slow spirle. do you know who i really am.

i am a dangerious elemental that can reek havicke that will rip souls out in its path.
u dont want me cause im a dangerious force that will **** you all if you try to harness my demonic power.

what you have seen is what your own mind has seen for you. do you want to see my gift or do u just want to watch me set my ideas lead this world in to flames.

do you want to know me or do u just want to follow my path of hell.

my leaded ideas have set this world free of hell and fire and a world of unleashed demons.


my life is a demonic power .

this world has been set on fire threw the eyes of a dictator.

do you want to see what i have hiden the plane to take down the corrupt ******* that have stabed me in  the back left me to live in the dark but my life has set the plan to unleash my creations to destroy and set the evils of them all..


every one who has been taken and never see again will be seen.

but my idea is to free the souls who have suffered the hand of hell.

your questions ask me well but in this world this world earth should  be afraid of me cause i have a heavy force that is armed and deadly. so people who need the hand to free them will bee saved from the heavl'y armed force working and planing to destroy  
all your fuckking corrupt ******* that has made a huge mistakes.

i see your following but am i now even ensane for you..


my identity has hidden my surprize for all you ******* **'s

cause my secret identity is going to say this bold state ment (IM A PSYCHOTIC RUSSIAN SO ILL RIP YOUR LIES YOU SPRED)
insane
Diamond Flame Jan 2022
What is a gift?
Surprize.

What is a gift without a box?
Without its fancy paper?
Without a bow or ribbon?
Without a card?
Simply an object
Sitting in place
Collecting dust
Lacking importance.

What is a gift?
A talent.
A passion.
A calling.
Potential.

What is a gift
If others do not experience it?
A waste of talent?
A hobby?
A secret?
A hidden piece of you.

Why is it a gift
Only if
You give it to others?

Is talent only a gift
When deamed worthy by others?

Whats in a gift?
Always a surprize.
I've been uninspired and drained.
I dont know anymore
Medusa Jun 2018
Medusa slips into necessary days, 20th century,
completely by accident, it was a chemical spill

nobody was there to clean up this ms stake
but she was definitely sorry

boy was she in for a surprize
it wasn't golden at all

it was all about the wrong moment
wrong in every way

1944, Germany, Medusa on stage
Fraulein, in tap shoes, wearing powder kegs
beneath her stage set and she had no idea where she
might be but she knew exactly where to stomp down

exactly when to toss that feathered purse
and to whom to throw it, with a moue
a dimpled kiss and a wink

goodbye, my love
https://youtu.be/bfFWOm5oKRM
As always when in the initial throes
of writing what I strive to concoct viz
pièce de ré·sis·tance,
which grandiose whim fizz
hills with utter futility, nonetheless this
nondescript husband under

scores comment, while pulling his
grizzled hair of chinny chin chin,
and emphasizing that mine
literary effort ain't no ****,
whether expressing an insatiable hunger
for factual national world events,

weird news i.e. geico liz
hard eats dog,
(who swallowed homework) quiz
sic hull varying from opinion/editorial,
geopolitical related or showbiz,
but breathe deep, while setting loose

quiet riot of ideas,
which profuse accursed
process usually incorporates an overwhelming
growing exponentially cerebral burst
whereat impossible task
looms large, asper how to

zero on most agreeable needling
threadbare notion to come first
amidst the plethora of rampant analogous
to horde of infants
clamoring tubby nursed
bajillion ideas touting joyfulness

(re: l'chaim), or...mine
envisioned sorrowfully immersed
demise as select small group
of family and friends accompany
glassy transparent hearst
(which...shh... keep on the Q.T.

as figuratively utter by pursed
lips), of course no corps
(habeas corpus cited for no reason),
but liver worst
poisoning wrought unexpected demise,

AND cremation (in a free nation)
means body double
coffin before your eyes
doppelganger paid in blood
money and french fries
(duet to a solo salt craving) no lies,

hence an none nee moose penniless chap dies
in short shrift within schema of mortal guise
ashes scattered all points on the compass
one bitcoin player in the blockchain of life wise
lee subsumed within world
wide web, this fate hain't no surprize!
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
Dumbfounded, speechless
who. You and I were
there,
we did not see the Who Horton heard on TV
Related to this argument was Wertheimer’s concept
of Pragnanz (“precision”)
in organization;
when things are grasped as wholes,
the minimal amount
of energy is exerted
in thinking.
To Wertheimer,
truth was determined
by the entire structure
of experience rather than
by individual sensations or perceptions.

From <https://www.britannica.com/biography/Max-Wertheimer>

Dynamic living history, reaches to to -Toto, here, Toto

cognitive revolt
piled on the new left right brain uses
sorting and finding worth
stacking and digging

having being
active dynamic being, thinking this can
go on and stay on
ever after if we accept the mortal limits
stories mental

this is like that was, only now, not then

the motion is time, time moves

field- corn or force? field cybernetic
Norbert Wiener- Warren McCulloch - Grey Walter
men who math
The Human Use of Human Beings

how do we instruct ourselves

we have knowledge, knowing is a knack we have

co-gnosis mind you, is something we do, abstractly
pulling
right from wrong.

--- Acadamia, the elite among learned-edu
matrixilated hacked't adams henrys
on the grid of ganz gestalt, das whole enchilada

LOUD - like Owsley's Wall of Sound - broken
by feedback, and
we can imagine that, we
can depict it
as seen on TV, my generation, the actual Archons,

the few sold first, first realized the end means,
now
in the course of human events, this is the realm
of all possible things,
and nothing remains
impossible, no joke, once everything

is swallowed whole, nothingness is not a
ganz gestalt aspect in the whole truth and
nothing but
the truth…. shooeee, too deep for me, I plea
and
pass. Psst, come and see, if this gocognosticism
functions as funk, was imagined, what
is that
thing they say, jive, is jive, is being jive
being good
or being good for nothin', real evil, nothin'.
you ain't
nothin' Ha

Reader be ready, steady, gone on to dis
cover -we all got songs we oughta remember

easy links to certain rhymes in the common tongue
of our time, we pidge-on bits of rap and old TV
add some Johnny Cash,
ev-boo'nighknown, ring o' fire, dance
redun
this is the Goethe flow, I suspected could exist,

P.K. ****, and Wallace of Infinite Jest, each
thought this act might follow wholes
of any perceptual samenesses,

the depth of an exploratory shaft, certain
sense of suggestible camera obscura,

tiny, pin-hole in the dusty velvet curtain,
shine, see on me, I feel, I see,
left eye
right eye, two things converge and doubtless,
both sides know, right
in front of each of us, is a blind spot,
what
is that absense? Is it a story wishing it were told,
or a fact you can follow to your gravest self,
if your will is such that, some how,
you must

well, maybe, we can help. AH, that is cheating yes.
Have you learned to lie to the devil,
did you ever meet him, her, it, one of them

spirits spoken of in spooky-geistliche,
olden days, and olden ways,
witchers with wands of willow, not of copper,

splash. dead rat
aqua dulce memories, these
bubble from a spring,
these feed a cistern of my own cleansing, done right,

I used bleach, Purex Bleach and an old straw broom,
I scrubbed any bit of drowned rat from that cistern,
I rewove the rips in the screens,
I called it completely clean and crawled out,
with bucket, and broom, empty
cistern echo, boomer
memories are the last in America, pre-TV

think about that a minute,
see if there ain't something in it, this us, we are
this classified mindset, set between '47 and now


for shared time cones merging now
way out there, eons ago, geo speed.

--- you had a hard time, I see, I had an easy time.

When were you worldly minded?
--- same general time as you, if this is 2021 tech
we are'n maybe weren't meant to be so loud,

there are reasons we did not learn some things
in school. Talkin' 'bout my

generally speaking, world wide, now, first time ever,
the aged
around the entire liveable band of post cataglumic last
time long ie live-life-able
I
enjoy the effort, let the dam break, the cleansing
right, as usual, is done.

Last time, the end was a surprize, this time,
this is the end, and it runs on to heat death in
the coolest of times to be alive
and
and have history to backup the *******…
are you
really
experienced, skritchy skritch skritch,

well,
I am, and, this has been my last show, re done
as a musical in mindfields back home.

Shout out as they say, Truth known is addictive

-- so where did these knowers post conjectors
as to how next is any worse? Hello Poetry, okeh,
tell the Alte Vista spiders we found
the joker who lied to the thief.
titles are time and chance, the urge to not let it pass - priceless
Relapse written all over whole
fudge besmirched countenance
American as apple pie garden variety troll
tell tale evidence eats away
at me heart and soul
argh so much for new year's resolution
straight and true healthy eating goal.

Lofty ambition to attain once upon time
coveted, prized, and
treasured toothpick physique,
no not necessarily becoming
thin as anorexic pencil necked geek

scores of years ago,
when yours truly resembled
quiet as mouse phantasmagorical
disembodied prepubescent freak
surreally bobbing long Battle Creek.

Morphological body distortion bid me
to allow, enable, and provide suicidal
grimly reaped tally **
with feebly uttered see yawl

back in the day circa approximately
my thirteenth circuit round the sun,
I sought to disappear into cellular vacuole
formerly carefree boy
his loose higglety-pigglety

hogtied psyche psychological,
(not in yeast wryly bred) did unroll
severely psychological afflicted son
taxed his mama and papa where
somber appalling death knell

deathly silent lugubriously reverberated
figurative emotional bell toll,
Matthew Scott starved yet hungered
for sustenance of body, mind and soul.

Pact nearly signed, sealed,
and delivered signaling demise
(mine) unwittingly inflicting horrific guise
kickstarting pinteresting repercussions no lies
lifetime developmental delay no surprize
even now this aging baby boomer tries
to shake off pervasive thought process unwise

fending off punishing
self destructive reflexive urge
after experiencing wages
of culinary sin where surge
impossible mission just desserts to purge

thus sink dentures into sweet treat
taste buds relishing joie de vivre emerge
(think chocolate fudge) flashes me memory
prior lovely skull and crossbones
nearly acknowledged funereal dirge.
Every February fourteenth,
(reference Gregorian Calendar see
High Middle Ages his Saints' Day)
which combs thee
day after morrow aye decree

Tweedledum and Tweedledee
mine near one and same
mean mein near best buddy
donning Harris tweed plus sundry
other manifold couture to express free

expression like... once upon time
innocently naive barenaked lady
young hippy feeling groovy,
albeit (think psychedelic) swiftly tailored

Harry styled vested gentry
twills nonetheless seam, née
upon aforesaid occasion intoxicated spree
formerly honored when animalistic glee

burst asunder courtesy biological key
hormones thawing lovely frozen bones
buzzfeeding, delivering, exuding earthy
primal propensities originally
linkedin with Lupercalia

nonetheless, encompassing various
animalistic, ******, narcissistic... needs ye
not not necessarily be apprised,
where altruistic festive folk would easily agree

to hunker down no matter
sheepishness prevalent within
wooled wide web re:
guarding Islanders at their homes
Islands named total more'n three

amidst Lewis, Harris, Uist, Barra
and several pertinences, all fertile
like lasses christened Galilee,
yet all known as Outer Hebrides.

Now really as one ewe man
misanthrope to another I advise
Cupid doth surprize
god of desire, ****** love,
hoop fully experienced
before permanent demise,
where mortals whisked no matter

sullen sensate (human and/or other) being
vainly, morosely, and futilely cries
passion play his trademark guise
plus tell tale sign tear streaming eyes
(think head over heels
lovestruck gals and guys)

willingly yoking, where
(of quartz) romancing stoneface
(case toward albeit point yours truly) applies
young and old paramours recognize
steeped within storied mythologize
as one after another arrow
(whipped out quiver) guise

nocked, molded then loosed
courtesy once taut than slack bowstring
bedazzles lovers with stars
glistening in their lovestruck blind eyes
any unspoken inapropos prurience,
I eagerly, honestly, and readily, apologize.
I'D SAY ..

Any with half a brain can smell the rain
Many read the oceans and the sea
Endless only need to look out a window
And tell the weather on the way to be

Closed minds easier to handle in life
I smell the stench of whats on the way
Russia USA and Nth Korea plus a few
A plan to half earth population like play

Their smirks reveal their lips with seal
All should read notradamus thus too date
The earth has been destroyed 5 times now
The 6th on the way last bible book does state

Many unable to do anything best not to know
But even clouds tells whats in the wind its so
These powers that be just cannot see
When the times up they too like all will go

To go the mentally ill the aged and unemployed
Their list goes on and on and its no surprize
Thats why its easier to handle closed minds
As open minds they all have seeing eyes

However Karma is one thing I do believe in
And its not blind not in the slightest way
This lot never to win in theiry game of life
When it hits the fan they too lose end of day

terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Ken Pepiton Jan 2023
Novel events, as noble glory,
the flower of youth,
selected for duty…

when did prudence become religion,
or even that lesser form, spiritual?

Plop in the middle of a century
with roads mastering mountain and pampas;

in a time when men have come to such agreements,
as only the most perspicacious of the redactors,
fitted to the future, if the interesting times,
could churn out eight more years of beef,
we could have made empire,
green and comfortable,
;\
Occulus 3 for everybody
/:-}
called to witness our discovery,
swoosh, veil taking away act
acted out
in symbolic gesture, nod
to Infinite Jest,
and a wave to Mr. Dirac, for not liking the answer.

I past the test. I cheated, I used my vague recollection.
- quatum rule for any thing in ever to work,
- there is always a here, and a mean free way
- to go

I read my copy of Spiderman No. 1. Thus, we ken tokenize
the boomer iteration of the Mandan's Loneman,

make a mental image, like a feather, in Forrest Gump,
that struck a chord,
morphic resonant little silver hammer
ding
even better, think chocolate covered cherries,
and feel the surprize,
nobody made that up… but as I wrote,
my prudent wife, swung open my door and gave me
two, which I let
melt to first sip, then softly chew, mulling, as with wine,
warming the taste out of the condiments.

--- sweet distractions, as with the honed edge,
the time spent making ready, prepare,
the heart for exploration…

this is the future, where is your core, Pineal, calls,
toss up, we left the rest to chance,
- my point. I bet that.
by day the eagle eats the liver,
by night the liver renews the reason, it was worth it.
Peter Pan Syndrome the most
accurate way to summarize
psychological mindset of yours truly,
particularly as a boy with brown eyes,
who did NOT holistically acclimatize

himself with peers, which insecurity
latched deadbolt draw
bridge guaranteeing Harris
parasite to cannibalize
(figuratively), sans rip

pull sieve flesh eating das guise
nanobot, while clinging with dear life
to mother's apron strings, no surprize
unavoidably, predictably, inevitably,
trauma did successfully burglarize

(more serious than Watergate)
rendering this withdrawn, small size
passive, and docile pipsqueak
human punching bag to other guys,
one puny slip shape lad's ****** statecraft

always ready to capsize
silently suffering lifetime, threatening
afflictions, harming easy target
inculcating aghast fear to socialize
compounded by stature quite undersize

additionally afflicted with minor defect
submucous cleft palate did compromise
vocalization with severe nasality
(iterated previously other poems), where
bullies did zero Kamikaze like to criticize

relentlessly, an ideal
defenceless, friendless,
and helpless "scapegoat" ***** prize
scared kid, who stood
stock still cowering in an agonize

zing posture, while my whole felt as if tied
into gordian knot as
"hoodlums" did gleefully antagonize,
yet never confided hostile treatment
to either parent, I wanted to disappear
and DIE, hence escapist wishes aye did fantasize!
Tristan Brown May 2018
Before I begin
I beg you read to the end
I know it might surprize you
But I promise, my tears were shed

I know I wasn't the best
And that's because I didn't try to be
For I was blinded by myself
And now that it's over
I finally see

I know I should have listened
For your ways are better than mine
Sadly, I can't change the past
And those moments will not come back

Instead of casting a shadow
I wish I would have spread a light
The same way the Sun shines
The same way that You shine

Thank you for all of the moments
And all the times we disagreed
Because thanks to you
I'm a more positive me

Life will try to tear you down
And if you need me I'm always here
But even if I wasn't
I know you'd persevere

So no matter how dark your path may seem
You just need to light it with your positivity

Know that I'll always love you
Wherever your path may lead
And I can't wait until I see you again
Whenever that day might be

Always shine your light
Brighter than the Sun shines
Just the same way You shine
Cassie, I don't have words to describe the blessing it has been to know, love, and call you a friend, family even. I can't wait to see the things you do in life. More than that though, I can't wait for the moments we will share, and pray that there would be many.
The daughter thing may seem a little odd, just ask Aysha or Lexi or me for that matter.

— The End —