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Carly Salzberg Sep 2010
Because the thirst wouldn’t simmer; it ruptured cities into boils,
turned cultures into armies, an armageddon of cheeky stubborn Irish Catholics and thick veined Germans couldn’t imagine a world without their stout hearty headed pint.

Because white dry protestant angels thought crime existed in a vacuum, in a filthy saw-dusted saloon, the hub spawn of evil.

Because twice as many of those saloons were ******* by unlicensed blind pigs, not through free swinging doors on the streets, but in the domestic sphere; in the dark crept crevices of household sanctuaries.  

Because bootlegging capitalist princes turned the industry into a stenchy liability with their home brewed distilled poisons. Alky cookers wrapped the commodity fetish and dubbed it moonshine.

Moonshine – spirits for the poor and blind.

Because this social reform was a moral reform lost in the oblivion of politics, lost in the timeliness of progressive spring-cleaning referenda’s.

Because the ragged, toothless class had to be scold, striped clean of their traditional barings,

because wisdom is everything and they’re spirits ran vilely wild.
Matt Sep 2014
The Highest Excellence
The highest excellence is like (that of) water.
The excellence of water appears in its benefiting all things,
And in its occupying,
Without striving (to the contrary),
The low place which all men dislike.
Hence (its way) is near to (that of) the Tao.

The excellence of a residence is in (the suitability of) the place;
That of the mind is in abysmal stillness;
that of associations is in
Their being with the virtuous;
That of government is in its securing
Good order;
That of (the conduct of) affairs is in its ability; and
That of (the initiation of) any movement is in its timeliness.

And when (one with the highest excellence) does not wrangle (about
His low position), no one finds fault with him.
By: Lao Tzu
Sethnicity Nov 2016
V
I don't know where to start... I feel pain
infinite points traced around my brain.
Many ticks ***** injustice migraines
Now I wanna vent on hot air blimps
self proclaimed pimps
till my tongue twists limp
or turn a loaded gun on immature mutual funds
my grain is rough
and I've grown bitter an tough
my mind metal is scuffed
I Dizzied my Gills be cheeks blowin up guts
what happened to the wonderful world
musta been the Tea.. now I'm Ralphing up Chucks
high society
in memory
it used to be
where I wanted to be
Visa Via
English living was the life for me
guess I'd traded up for some Hot **** reaL-It-Tea
I think I've had enough
guess I stuffed and over fluffed
had too much empty v (MTV)
sipping on that 4 twin Tea
Now I gotta V!

IV
I vibrate so viciously
I violate all variations of conform Ahh!, Tea
Been too long slipping on and spilt ma Qi

I'm tired of
The warnings the warming the tide turning the swarming
Killer bees  Wu is me
for I've been sipping on Boo Blue Tea

III
I lost my voice yet still voting
while Hippy flippies are still steady chat hosting
I'm Roasting poli-sci-fi-ers who can't find a town square
but got bags of opinions on world politics here and there
face-booking without a book in their face
fighting freedom by being dumb ignoring the truth such a disgrace
soldiers fighting harder at home to make it a home
feeling lost and alone their kids barely even grown
ready to start living
thought he was done with the killing
till he saw a villain on his throne life lost all appealing
come to find out that his wife had done gone
so settled on hanging strange fruit to shadow shalom
While
I'm so far out of the zone
that I get these messages on my cellular phone
Reality Strike terror Domes unsafe at home Wu is me
I'm miles away sipping on Too Long Tea

II
Yet homeless happy people without thrive ability
party pushers posting pictures with such jive hostility
acting out with rational it's like sporting politically
Obama's on my starting team with poll pushing agility
I Got two Clintons on my backup fantasy league
don't watch local games or who's selling off senate seats
not all are frozen but most have chosen illiterately
on the block taking tokens steady smokin and broke and  
no matter for realities that are steadily approaching
call me young in notion but I can't stand for lack of motion
late nights to early mornings I'm writing in search of potion
like Juliet rests in pieces I see the gauntlets broken
YOU can't save the planet **** IT so Janet pass on posting
Nothin new under sun we **** for fun and Whales **** in the ocean
as if Ape won't **** Ape Mother Earth will keep her motion
Wu is Me now I see I've been
Sipping on Too Wrongs Lefty

I
I hope you know I care
but start by loving your neighbor there and their and they're
reciprocate the truth and stand aloof of those who dare
put money before truth
visage before root
facsimile before proof
save the sympathy for devils
or get the **** out my booth

Check the numbers
Global hunger
riches blundered
voice down under
jobless convicts
bodies ditch in
Wars we pitched in

I'm talking about true world vision

social image
tweeting pigeons
Madolf mongrels
hate crime heroes
Welfare wealthy
advertising gimmicks
famous like ***** limericks
IMF, what a concept
acceptable debit?
nuclear threats
hating one another for what we choose to worship!?
It's already on our doorstep...
... yet we get hung up on the stu pet
"Ooh! Ahh!" "Green" Part Tea Bullshat!
Clinging to our jobs not because we like what we do
but we feel we have too!
Some parts of the world unite for things
other than Death and Dollars Popularity and Power!
... now look at US!
I'm just A fish on a diet of Super fishy all lit Tea

0
Ultimately if you voted Thank you for joining the Conversation; if not, Thanks a Lot! I hope your shadow enjoys watching this implosion slowly consume everything and everyone around you while you hold up the wall where your eternal shadow will remind future generations that, ("You gotta have an opinion" - Vincent Vega).
Marsha Singh Mar 2011
is not a kiss of measured bliss,
perfect in its timeliness;
it's the one that leaves your heart undone,
a far from perfect hit-and-run
that isn't great until redone.
:)
Chris Saitta Jun 2019
The Trojan dead are whispering
Indecipherable secrets to sodden-eared earth.
The wind has eyes and sees beyond, Titans outremembered.
Ajax and his oft-turned back
Carries again the fallen from the fields:
     The ******-slept clouds, unsuspecting;
     Slumped Achilles of disbelieving-godless eyes,
     Flinging the final spear of his own blood.
     Soldiers all now of the green husk.
Titanic silence engulfs sound,
Except from those who mourn.
The storm is only a storm
As long as the leaves are lost.
Such is the untimely, timeliness of war.
In the post-Illiad Homeric world, Achilles was struck in the heel by an arrow shot from Paris, brother of Hector, whom Achilles had defeated in battle during the Trojan War.

Though there are many variants to the myth, Ajax who was known as much of a warrior as Achilles, in many of these tales carries his body from the field in a show of honor.

For a slide video of this and other poems, please check out my Instagram page at chrissaitta or my Tumblr page at Chris-Saitta.
Zabava May 2019
There is comfort in being right
There is structure in being wrong
There is mirth in being solicitous
There is deafness in being agent
There is fear in being passive
There is joy in being forgetful
There is peace in being truthful
There is freedom in being incomplete
Del Maximo Feb 2010
what's wrong with my world?
peeps not coming through for me
saps my energy
missed deadlines, not showing up
they can't seem to do the math

talkin' 'bout good peeps
I don't know what's happening
it makes me tired
there's too much hustle-bustle
going on in today's world

guess I got away
from always expressing thanks
thankfulness echoes
reverberates, creating
circles of random kindness

so that must be it
got to get back to "thank you"
thank you everyone
for your kindness, timeliness
and just for being good peeps

thanks especially
to the Great God/Universe
copier machine
whatever I put out there
I get copies back, THANK YOU


Del Maximo
© August 7, 2009
Dr Peter Lim Oct 2020
The ally---timeliness
  and comeliness
M Clement Nov 2013
Am I truly an artist  
If I do not speak from lucidity?

Am I truly an artist
If my words do not keep me awake?

Am I truly an artist
If my art flows from a concoction of ability, timeliness, and boredom?

Am I truly an artist
If there is a struggle to find words left in these veins?

Am I truly an artist
If there is nothing more to say?
Am I an artist, or an imposter? Do I write, or mimic? Is there something here, or am I imagining things?
PJ Poesy Oct 2018
Many owls hoot around this house.
It goes on at full length the night.
Broken record hoots on a treadmill,
stirring sheets, I'm up at one window,
then another. Dog ugh's his dismay,
not with the owls, with me.

I ugh back.

Certainly, I'd prefer somnolence
as well. So roll over Rover, this
infectious restlessness has gone
epidemic. Now coyotes are cackling.
The ever out there is in here, again.

I begin my jotting in the one thumbed
way of our present day. Thank a
saturation of stars for our modern
cellular contraptions. We can all now
fiddle away the night and not disturb
our precious pet's rest.

Timeliness of nature and creative
spiritual awakenings align.
Sometimes.
David Hilburn Apr 2019
Blushing fields
So alive in a fateful stare
Mere and many, a hope for yields
Of common stone, flower and water

Been a course
If not courage, where?
Can we begin and where can we end, forces
That come for me, like the truth to care?

Sincerity, you and a cost so dear...
Let with my name, the toil of another aim
Should a real timeliness have it to hear?
Or am I the conscience in a letter, to name?

Beckoning time
To a seat with almost, for every thought
The quiet and the stir, of reasoning mine
Is the yours of good, about a hope we made our lot?
Ed Salvi Oct 2020
Why hath nature created thy divine self?
Art thee meant to be ignored? Or embraced
Why? Carved with perfection, if only to take away?
Thy beauty: is it all an illusion?

The beauty I crave, is the beauty thee posses
But how could one say? The timeliness of thy beauty;
Should I act or refrain, the temptations?
Should I adore or disgust, the sensations?
How art thee so appealing? Even to a shadowed beast.

Thy silky hair and glorious eyes
Thy soft heart and softer grace
Thy warm words and warmer embrace
Thy pleasant odour, thy presence, even more so.

How could nature create thy divine self?
Why perfect? if only to degrade?
How could one resist, how could one abstain?
Thy beauty however, I now embrace


Ed Salvi
David Hilburn Apr 2019
Keep me
Stone and favor, the laugh of times
We found the world a sharing home, energy's
We know can and do, the pout's of reality, that weigh heavy trying

Keep meant
Like a savior of distance and forte, with the impossible to taste
A requirement of simple focus, a history to glean
The stoic and the risk of coming light, that is our superior haste

Keep meandering
Hello for a solemn tow, we season with love?
Truer by a callous here and now, nor the salt of wandering
Wonder with me a silent house, with no passion to eat, thus

Keep mentioning
Rise and patience in lover's grasp
Selection to fulfil a role we know, intending
The appearance of a host, with reason's to ask?

Keep reminding
Me of a new wind in the eaves of able
Torrid was a fascination to excel at land and timeliness
That came for ever, the question we still keep, to heal...
Lawrence Hall Dec 2023
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

               People Who are Late for Mass Apologize to Me

                       “I pray you, remember the porter”

                                      -Macbeth II.iii.23-24

Like Macbeth’s poor porter I am a doorman too
An ‘umble man with a minimal set of skills
“’Tis my limited service” happily to meet
And greet the faithful while opening the door

When the server rings the bell, latecomers rush
Some glance at me guiltily and apologize
For being late to the divine liturgy –
Am I an attendance officer for God?

After the Order of the Porter I am a doorman
And will judge the timeliness of no man!
kfaye Oct 2022
Light footed across your thin carpet of storm clouds
Each toe-touch flashing lighting across the world-dark sky

In embers, you fall to me
Your hands, like watermelon seeds
caught in my throat

Your eyes, gloaming in that fractured world- without me.

We are walled-in peoples
We are isolated from each other’s history

We are lost to the timeliness of actions against our well-being
Now,
At the uneventful death of all human love
Safana Jan 2022
Timeliness, the lines are drawn
To put a trap, to trap the fawn
Between twilight and the dawn
In a garden where it is a lawn

In the hunter's home there's yawn
Everyone's eye look like frogspawn
For their stomachs behaving gnawn
Just, as a hunger feel like blawn

The sky thunder is on the bawn
And the ocean waved and mawn
The fog in the space is withdrawn
Because, the sun will rise predawn

The squirrel's tail in the pond thrawn
  To cut the water lines with ripswan
In the forest, bamboo will hacksawn
So that the rabbits teeth are whipsawn
Check my ambitions
Of power and greed
For today I must write
What the histories
Read
Not what leaves me
Beleaguered by
Years of devotion
Implosion
Awhirl with
Conflicted emotion
On one hand
The wheel
Toward the road ahead
Steering
Just now I’m not paid
To set down the path
Veering
The other still reaching for
Lists to give
Tips
And a look back to see
The familiars I’ve missed
How I wished to keep
Rolling along
What I learned
A new town
The best spots
Play my songs
As I earned
An affordable  
Stature
An honestly
Modest
Addition
Opinion
On timeliness
Promised
A charioteer
For a castle beside
The vast shore
And horizon
Deep into
I’d ride
Down its corridors
Stride
In its passages
Hide
And its passengers
Welcomed
Their guide to confide

— The End —