"sybil" poems
I'm checking the post daily
Can't tell you how exciting this is for me
Since I called the 1-800 number
From that mail order magazine
While one day sitting at the dentist
I picked up said magazine
A full page ad which made me gasp
A colorful array of personalities
I've never really had much of one on my own
So I ordered a couple dozen
Sitting here anxious for my order
And so far I've seen nothing
I'm wearing a path to the mailbox
It should have been here by now
When it does arrive I'm first taking out Impatient
Then placing a call to tell them about themselves
I hope I remembered to order one Romantic
Cause I'd sure like to impress Mary Lou
As it now stands I feel less a man
Around her I don't know what to say or do
Imagine my surprise when the box finally arrives!
I open it up with a slight giggle
Just like that the personalities fall into my lap
For a moment I felt just like Sybil
Lets see there's one that's Strong, one that's Flirty, one that's Shy, one that's Quirky
One that looks like it's Mighty Proud
A personality that's Fun, Debonair, a Serious one
All I know is I want to try them all out
These days when you see me around...AKA "The Man About Town"
The one that has the large following of friends
Everyone loves the tales that I tell, now that I tell them so well
The way I weave them from beginning to end
They all want to hang out with me, there's something special they see
Looks like I've come out of my shell
Now I don't think twice as I jump into life
Since things have been going so well
And all those personalities I own, I now leave those all home...
I keep the box locked high up on a shelf
I found the best personality I have is the one I was born with
And that people tend to like me for myself
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 8:05 AM UTC
JACOB’S LADDER (Written by Susan J. Hunt 09-29-09)
I’ve been told I have no coping skills
More than a few times. It’s the same old line.
Then what the hell am I doing here?
I’ve survived up to this time.
A big fat zero, the test spits out.
Yep, that’s me no coping skills, probably ready to ****
I have nothing to help me become my best.
Honesty is an asset, but doesn’t appear so from the tests
So sometimes, I have to lie. I don’t like to, but I must.
Otherwise they’ll t to run at me with a restraining jacket
Before I jump out a two-story building and land in the brush.
I’m very quick and wily.
That’s got to count for something.
I break no bones and run away.
All are amazed at my escape.
That’s what I’ve learned as coping skills.
I drink and do other sins, but I would never ****
Even to my detriment, I just don’t have that will
I’m not crazy. I’m not insane. I just see things differently.
I’m not Sybil or Ted Bundy, I just have issues within me
The fact is, I see more harm, I carry it inside of me
I’m working on my coping skills
and my social skills as well.
I’m working on them the best I can.
So far, it’s gone not so well
You couldn’t tell how sick I am
as we cross the street and pass.
Not that I would harm you,
I would offer you my flask.
My sensitive nature is on overload
I see every misdeed
Not that it matters much,
I’m too involved with me.
There must be a way to crawl out of this pit
I need a Jacob’s ladder.
May I become more alive and aware
Of how I can sincerely, matter.
Oct 15, 2009
Oct 15, 2009 at 11:22 AM UTC
Pretentious
you stumble, heeding
terra cotta voices and
the sigh of broken chimes.
Disbelieving
you fall,
a sybil breathing rime-
for visions have a price
and you too must taste the salt.
Flounder
my pretty,
for time has bought your emnity
The blossom of your beauty
a weathervane of trust.
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 1:47 AM UTC
Balzac is beading,
Robespierre is reading,
Introversion I am needing,
Reflections I am heeding,
In old bat cave central,
Like an ancient Sybil, hypothetical,
Wisdom is supposed to come with age,
As Balzac turns his own page,
Why am I more religious than the Pope?
Can any faith give Earthlings hope?
Better than folk smoking dope!
If you have a problems embarrassing,
Bring them here for my listening,
Sage advice I am providing,
Reflections I am heeding,
Yes, boys, beer understands,
How did dinosaurs make it in Pleistocene lands?
Answer: they didn't, for beer, no hands,
Yes, reflections I am heeding,
Humans are minute cosmic specks, spinning,
On a pebble in Outer Space, clinging,
If gravity didn't **** we'd all be floating,
Reflections I am heeding,
As Robespierre shall keep reading,
Then Balzac shall be beading......
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
will this love be pastoral
or gypsy
with abandon and fields and flowers?
dear heart
O dearest love
will it be Parisian
with wine and sophistication?
Will Hamlet and Juliet hold hands here
and Ophelia and Sybil and Cassandra sit in dark corners
watching and casting spells?
will this be Orpheus losing Eurydice
or the love of shepherds unheard of and un-noted in history
and loving with great lust and dying in old age and quiet…
I do not know, I do not know
for I have no power of prophecy.
Do you, sweetest love?
Perhaps you use the Book of I-Ching?
Oct 8, 2010
Oct 8, 2010 at 2:10 AM UTC
It's always the bat-shit, rabid dog
crazy ones that will put up a really
good front when you first meet them.
You're always amazed at how normal they appear.
They are intelligent, hold down jobs, drive Volvo's;
maybe they even have children that they
seem to take care of. They pay bills,
celebrate holidays and have houseplants.
They might even have a
dog or a cat, or a sickly looking bird in a cage.
But, just underneath the false facade of
lucid smiles, lurks a whack-job from hell.
They make Sybil and Lizzie Borden look
like Mother Theresa.
If you find yourself with one of these
women, don't confront them, it only
makes matters worse, and could prove deadly.
Just smile and nod, and slowly back out
the door. Don't stop until you see the
Pacific Ocean. Get in and wash yourself off.
Your safer with the sharks and the riptide.
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 8:53 AM UTC
Life walks by
and in a useless longing
I dive into the crowdy time.
Then, unexpectedly,
a chord fills my mind,
words arise together
sieging me in opacity,
in a growing uneasiness
of a mouth full of marbles
that finally fall
with a heart rythm
as omen stones of a sybil voice.
[14.11.14]
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC
Although he was a stupid man,
he was a great man in training.
Best place for children and children
and protection of tendencies.
The most important factor is that you are protecting your knee
without God's help on earth.
They are Italian in memory,
but they are stored. She sat in dark
darkness in dark darkness.
According to the United States in the United States,
three autumn, money, money, an elderly woman,
the weather is very gray. What does not change is hell
is golden or yellow. There are currently many children
in the gaming industry and digital devices are available.
Russia passed the law. Remember my childhood
and coconut collective agreement of Georgia.
North Dakota and collective agreement.
Later in the Arab world,
the child died in the camp. Possibility to use sports
equipment equipped with transportation.
Once again, Satan created an ambiguous and colorful fetus.
It was on the edge of the glass, the man had no illness.
Mother's light is not white, black and white, white,
leopard, sour cream. Eno Great Building -
Oh, the stars and the island of Maria, the USA,
USA, the old. This summer will help yellow.
This is the best gift for the best girl in the world.
On July 1, I was lost, and I found that
it was connected with the stars. Some are glass products.
Eliel - Opening the Igor Coffee is the best sand in the air.
1 He does not see the power and power of Christ.
There are so many things very low. This is not an obstacle
for Einstein. Pregnant Mother's House.
Memory loss is a problem
with the memory creator. Thank you The reason
is the American woman model.
Sybil is old gray cleaning. Gold and fresh wine.
Your life is very interesting, according to the Russian law,
your decision. 1 1 1 = The golden ring
of a woman in the air. | What does not change
in hell is golden or yellow. There are currently
many children in the game industry
and digital devices are available. Russia passed the law.
Remembering
my childhood and coconuts,
I later died in the camp in the Arab world.
Possibility to use sports equipment equipped
with transportation. To use the devil's color to use the color,
you need a rich set of colored resources.
This model performs all water effects per week.
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
To my grandma,
Dressed with your antique gold decorations
And your oneiric sets
In a swinging gait, bucolic
You come into view, tall, fabulous
In your museum, my amused
Unveiling the stylized veils
Around marbles, spread
In colors, irised hues
You’re dancing, evolving, fragile
Between Vélázquez and Vergil.
Of the Graces, of Guernica, deft
You know it all, aurora, sybil.
Of your opportune inspiration
I tasted all the delights
Between your eyes and smooth fingers
I’ve seen the masters’ evil spells
But also a pale beauty
We have together moored
On the ocean of eternity
Beside the Arts, carved out of love.
Still reading in your golden voice
Those expert accents of yours out of
Time, your moves back then
A work today, still glistening
To you then this libertine fire
Your impish fingers detain…
September 8, 2015, Lyon
Translated on October 18, 2015
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
Ἀποθανεῖν θέλω.
Live too long and words echo.
Sentences lose their bearings.
In the twilight colors wane.
New faces feel drably familiar.
Even the warm bodies of women
become gelidly generic.
Lovers live in other worlds.
War's clamor dwindles to murmurs.
Everything old, distant, familiar.
Memories as flea market post cards.
Wins and losses cancel out.
Too old for Jesus or ******
Steady hands begin to tremble.
Books become a single manuscript.
Movies dim to one blurred screenplay.
Tomorrow just another cold front.
The future an inaudible rumor.
Caught in the evening of life
for a few more fading frames,
reluctantly faltering to the end.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 9:15 AM UTC
identity theft flies directly
in the face of the multiple
personalities who demand
the right to be more than
one person at a time; our
several distinct identities
are not dependent on
a corporation's approval;
Sybil & Dr. Jekyll would
never get on facebook or
twitter, their accounts
blocked b/c of confusing
the algorithms that play
into advertisers' nefarious
goals; if someone steals my
identity, I don't even care;
I've got more
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
They told her
she couldn't be that way
awkward bashful
cocoa girl
a mad obtuse thing
She has a symphonic voice
like sybil with a sore throat
and her whispers were more
pleasant than reeking
filtered flower-scented air
She roams like sweet breath
gives peeks
melting the sky with vengeance
while veiling her tongue
with ecstasy
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
When pushed, I will pull you with me
In whatever direction that might be
If you choose to ignore me,
I will shudder like porous rock in the flow of sudden desert floods.
I will change.
I cannot grow just up.
I must grow out.
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
As a lactose intolerant
cow whirring lion eye zing
dual (Banjo playing) Manichean
("FAKE") keen man womanizing,
faux nymphomaniac wannabe,
I cone only scream about visualizing
nip pulling and getting a breast
of Hani La (vanilla),
this sweltering unfreezing
Wednesday while mouth
watering chiefly hanker
for milch of
human kindness, which titillating
fanciful fandom fantasies
skinny dipping into soliloquizing
whet dreams har made
sadly, simply, and sorely realizing
test tickles quizzing
noggin merely figment
of fertile imagination pricking
prurient potent plentifully oozing
naughty salacious, licentious,
and felicitous evocations pulsating
hypnotically invoking
trance send dint overriding
gloriously flirtatious escapade needling
my over active
thought processes monopolizing
ability to focus attention trying
to compose joyous leavening,
sans jump starting
massaging, and kneading
dormant limp libido liberating
panting allied force,
which seems tubby
in axis Sybil for Nick -
A.Ting, thus Celeb Basie,
frantically, gingerly, and
haphazardly kickstarting
***** riot with this feeble attempt
for a firm hut heave action,
one docile male member
devoid of livingsocial,
hence aye ****
sitter ring joining
a nunnery, which
would be habit chilly unfitting,
and very un convent
shin null for a poetic ending!
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 2:10 PM UTC