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In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is asleep.
The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins.
The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream,
and the man who rushes out with his spirit broken will meet on the street corner
the unbelievable alligator quiet beneath the tender protest of the stars.

Nobody is asleep on earth. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is asleep.
In the graveyard far off there is a corpse
who has moaned for three years
because of a dry countryside on his knee;
and that boy they buried this morning cried so much
it was necessary to call out the dogs to keep him quiet.

Life is not a dream. Careful! Careful! Careful!
We fall down the stairs in order to eat the moist earth
or we climb to the knife edge of the snow with the voices of the dead dahlias.
But forgetfulness does not exist, dreams to not exist;
flesh exists. Kisses tie our mouths
in a thicket of new veins,
and whoever his pain pains will feel that pain forever
and whoever is afraid of death will carry it on his shoulers.

On day
the horses will live in the saloons
and the enraged ants
will throw themselves on the yellow skies that take refuge in the eyes of cows.

Another day
we will watch the preserved butterflies rise from the dead
and still walking through a country of gray sponges and silent boats
we will watch our ring flash and roses spring from our tongue.
Careful! Be careful! Be careful!
The men who still have marks of the  claw and the thunderstorm,
and that boy who cries because he has never heard of the invention of the bridge,
or that dead man who possess now only his head and a shoe,
we must carry them to the wall where the iguanas and the snakes are waiting,
where the bear's teeth are waiting,
where the mummified hand of the boy is waiting,
and the hair of the camel stands on end with a violent blue shudder.

Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is sleeping.
If someone does close his eyes,
a whip, boys, a whip!
Let there be a landscape of open eyes
and bitter wounds on fire.
No one is sleeping in this world. No one, no one.
I have said it before.

No one is sleeping.
But if someone grows too much moss on his temples during the night,
open the stage trapdoors so he can see in the moonlight
the lying goblets, and the poison, and the skull of the theatres.
Onoma Jan 2017
Who are these men and women
that move as the ends of earth--
raving stiff, sweet, bitter serums
of truth?
From their common manner a
prodigal bleeding has begun--
all the elements that eternally
knotted them now drain.
Their full significance squints
at its rise and shine, as meaning
is placed and trapdoors open.
Patricia Drake Feb 2013
There's a backdoor
Always a backdoor
A trapdoor
To let me out
Or let you in
Let me in
Or trap me
In your trap
Of doors
Revolving doors
Revolving
And mirrors
Mirroring
Trapdoors
And me
Trapped
In endless
Mirrors
And doors
To traps set
By you
To entrap
Me
wichitarick Jul 2018
TRAPDOORS IN OUR LIFE

Casually as we stroll to find a new view on that knoll, if the vision is blocked we won't see all the potholes

Was it truly the intention to reach a holy grail, is not achieving it a sign we may be frail

Many steps to take through overgrown fields with hidden paths,is about finding stepping stone not the pitfalls

Fun and frolic necessary parts of the play,often casually we develop habits covering our minds like a black veil

Freedom was much easier without the knowledge of blind spots, how the breezes easily turn into windstorms

How often have we overcome what could have been a block but when simply taken in stride we prevail

Peering out over perpetual pastures with unknown ditches and glitches ,beauty or beast to greet us as we crisscross

Unheard disclaimers were given for protection brushed aside nothing to break our stride blind to being frail

Once again to face a day never considering a loss, just a need to play,often staying in motion comes with a higher cost

Knowledge of others ahead keeps us from our bed,playing on our own path to find new  pleasure,unknown fears would make us stale

Will we take lessons from past discretion's or become feeble as we fall
remain strong because this life testing can only be lived not taught. R.C.
Funny we still manage to make it on our own path when even ourselves would give different advice about which way to travel . the scars and marks make for conversation hopefully much later. Thanks for reading your comments are helpful. Rick
time governs
you and me
treat it not
irreverently
chance the unknown
while you can
sands of time
pause for no woman nor man
one and all
quick sticks
the time piece
it ticks it ticks
dithers and dawdlers
hear the alarm
wasted days
do each of us
irreversible harm
of the calendar year
we are sure
but moments in time
are pending trapdoors
make every venture
your stock in trade
lest time render us
uncertain and afraid
in reality rosters
and agendas do vary
devilish time
oft wickedly contrary
speed up Jack and Jill
sundials are on a roll
time is indiscriminate
exacting
a costly toll
governor time
is carefully deliberating
our pendulums
remonstrating
Silhouettes in moonlit mazes
your tears are complex superstructures.
Superclusters wrinkle I, negative energy,
tunneling through chasms forbidden;
you and I float.

Comes  a sound, depth charged sleeper cell,
a bloop, a mystery, an unsweep,
a whistle, a Julia, a train, a slow down.
Heard by 350,000 zombies.
You and I sleep.

A child derails a train, safe to say,
that the world has its trapdoors.
Its a mystery, they say, but what do they know?
About us and our death.
You and I disorient.

Your two ******* hide a heart,
A mother board center of circulation.
Your body’s iterative delusion
Graces mine. And dissolves me.
You and I disintegrate.

We need to hack the heart,
With absurdity and farce and slipstream:
Into subspecies, we, simians,
We are grateful, gratified.
You and I evaporate
Jon Tobias Apr 2013
After reading my first love poem
And misunderstanding my first love story
Romanticizing your bleak hope
I knew I was ******

And in trying to explain this
I am left feeling like a schizophrenic Walt Whitman
Scrawling poems about your beauty

As if love is something you can actually seek outside yourself
While inside you there are walls
Mine fields
Trapdoors leading to deadfalls
All to keep you from it

I want to stand at the entrance to myself
And be baptized in my own sweat
From the work of this deconstruction

There is heaven and peace in the rubble
Blueprints for a home without safeguards
A simple place you can rest your head at night
This chest

Love is not something you seek
But you tell that to these hands
This pen
This mouth
Tell these eyes without losing my gaze
That it is not hiding somewhere behind you

It is not
I know this now
I know that love is this
Your heart is this
Your body is this

A spare room in a small house
You had intented on living alone in

And everytime someone comes to your door
Know it is always nicer inside
And be grateful that someone came to it
Let them in with your smile
say
"I have been expecting you"
Then let them leave if that is what they must do
They might

Just remember to be grateful for their presence
Everyone who sought your door
Sought it because there is something good there
There is always you
I am kinda over writing love poetry, but to no avail most poems I write become those, especially ones written while drunk. Oh well.
Taylor St Onge Feb 2022
How do you measure the once-was?  The invisible?  The void?  

                                 The ache in my heart is not physiological,
                                   although it may feel like it sometimes is.
  

I can measure the words I write,
                       the words that get stuck in my throat.  
The boxes of belongings left over.  (You can narrow down a person’s
                                                               physical life by how many trips it
                                                                ­                          takes to Goodwill.)
How many songs can I now not stand?  
How many scents are now trigger trapdoors?  

Shall I count the number of times I’ve thought of you today?  
No ******* thank you.  
                                          Measuring is for the birds.  
                                                        ­                                    The doctors and
                                                                ­                                the scientists.  

I keep reaching inside and pulling out my still beating,
                                          but rotting and decaying heart
                                        only to be told it’s perfectly fine.  
I refuse to be gaslit on my grief anymore.
write your grief prompt 28: how do we see the gesture, the mass, the gravity, of the one you love, now that we cannot look at them directly? how do we know the shape, the weight, the being, of the one you love, by what we see in you?
Jedd Ong Aug 2015
Perhaps you aren’t as faceless
as you think you are:

your skin not green,
your face not plastered
with wide-eared grins,
your house neither yellow nor
full of garish trampolines, trapdoors and springs.

This static,
this stillness,
this is you:

Quiet, loud, alone in your room
screaming in whatever tongue you
speak best at, staring back
at reflections in mirrors
that don’t recognise you.

You smile,
measure the gaps between your
teeth and find that they
are a little bit smaller,
check their slant and find
that they lean a little more
to the left,

feel your skin and find
that the green tinge
comes off with a light scratch
of a nail,

and that beneath the coverings,
you still
are flesh and blood.
Patricia Drake May 2013
She let herself in
through dilated pupils
to find a labyrinth
of magic mirrors
waiting
with tricky trapdoors
and trip wires
designed to make her fall
and forget herself
Alexa Sz Apr 2010
Lost in a Labyrinth of feelings
can't get back to where I was
trapdoors and danger
around every corner and door
can't go back
can't return
not now
I have to wait for time to heal my pain.
time governs you and me
treat it not irreverently
chance the unknown while you can
sands of time pause for no woman nor man
one and all quick sticks
the time piece it ticks it ticks
ditherers and dawdlers hear the alarm
wasted days do each of us irreversible harm
of the calendar year we are sure
though moments in time are pending trapdoors
make every venture your stock in trade
lest time render us uncertain and afraid
in reality agendas and rosters do vary
devilish time oft wickedly contrary
speed up Jack Jill sundials are on a roll
time is indiscriminate in exacting a costly toll
governor time is carefully deliberating
our pendulums remonstrating
today its vast,
leadlike heaviness,
caught in a web for years,
a river of tears,
knowing not to touch mercury,
never to touch lead,
but all this lumpen, toxic, metal,
here now,
the painful, real circumstances,
a life unravels horrific,
watch the watchmen,  
politicians reliant on  crazy logic,
journeying headlong with coboclos, and shaman bundled and secreted, in rabbit warren, their pronouncements,
She amazed the vastness of the labyrinth, like tendrils that surmounted her, all her lonely long life, her mother, her father, her brothers, her sisters, baby Jesus, God the Father, church, other parents of schoolfriends, the watchmen, hippies, engineers, pretend girlfriend trapdoors, pretend boyfriend trapdoors,watchmen, irish, americans, english, russians, coboblos, shaman, germans, dutch, irish, english, americans, chinese, spanish, portuguese, italians. worldwideweb
one woman  an island, allegedly.  
her strenght from the biggest Daddy the one above,
He sent her his Son ,
He filled her with Love,
she hopes for his return,
others  burn and condemn themselves in the safety of numbers,
they are numbered....
right now, she cannot find hope or love for them ,
she did love when it counted,
all that too is from God.
Christ told his disciples when they asked about demons, to look on the inextinguishable, inexaustable light of God, this is a light worth feasting the eyes on.  I ignored the shadow, got caught in it's whirl, maybe that was meant to be, why it all happened to me, I ignored it, maybe dissociation illness is not an illness, a divine strategy to keep going, despite the pain.
Christ also said be like children, I definitely was naive.
Wordforged Fool Feb 2016
I'm friends with everyone
We all have loads of fun
I'm so happy with how it's all run
Until FOUR THREE TWO ONE
Shattered hopes, broken dreams
Busting my whole perfect life at the seams
I can hear the cries and screams
Arguments and nightmares
Terrifies and scares
Haunts and horrors
Locks and trapdoors
Fires and pits
Demons and misfits
My broken memory
Was suddenly replaced by reality
Not everyone cares for me
Breaking my delusional stupidity
I thought I was the king of lies
But it turns out that they were my world, my demise
I weep over my torn and murdered world
Leaving my innocence in a pile of blood and lies unfurled
time governs you and me
treat it not irreverently
chance the unknown will you can
sands of time pause for no woman nor man
one and all quick sticks
the time piece it ticks it ticks
ditherers and dawdlers hear the alarm
wasted days do each of us irreversible harm
of the calendar year we are sure
though moments in time are pending trapdoors
make every venture your stock in trade
lest time render us uncertain and afraid
in reality rosters and agendas do vary
devilish time oft wickedly contrary
speed up Jack and Jill sundials are on a roll
time is indiscriminate in exacting a costly toll
governor time is carefully deliberating
our pendulums remonstrating
TheMeanBean Jan 2018
I don’t lie,

I simply camouflage my words,

My mind has been put on stand-by,

All these clever rhymes and verbs

That I use, they’re all hidden

Some you won’t understand you are forbidden

To fully comprehend what it is I’m trying to say

I realize that some of you may

Not relate, retaliate, by saying this is fake,

Not true, my neck aches

From carrying these words in the back of my head

So now I scribble them down, no lies,

Just truth, and other

Because I want you for yourself to discover

The same as I do

You’ll thank me- no thank yourself, when there’s eventually a
breakthrough

Because lying is the easy way, right?

but the path is filled with trapdoors,

You’ll walk through and discover that it’ll break you, it even might
Leave you wheezing on all fours.



I’m not hiding anything, I wear it on my sleeve,

Why would I ever tell you, what would I achieve?

You’ll never understand, all you’d do is find me odd,

All because I’d choose to tell you that my mind is flawed?

No I’ll simply wait for the light to turn green,

I’ve been standing still, waiting here since I was a teen

Maybe the light’s broken, could someone come and fix it?

No, I’m just gonna wait, how could I ever admit

That I’ve been waiting right here for years,

Without trying to move forward, back, maybe it’s my gears

Gears of my car, gears in my head

Are they working, I think my engine's dead

Are you there, are you still with me?

Of course I am, I’m fine, but my mind is on a killing spree

Killing my flow, killing my name,

Stomping on my heart am I going insane?

I don’t see myself in the mirror,

This puddle of darkness- I’ll drown in it

Death’s getting nearer.



We’re all diseased,
Our minds aren’t free

Everything put out is believed

We’ve stopped thinking, or is it just me?

Me that is ill, me that screams until,

I can’t anymore and now my vocal chords are torn

The screaming for real, it’s turned into a squeal,

But the sounds have become deafening, they’re sounds of defeat

Now I sit in silence as I continually and desperately plead


Help me, please see through the false truth,

My second face, this mask of mine,

It’s starting to show cracks, please have a glance and talk,

Don’t just stand there from the sideline

I finally throw the mask away and then I see it hit you,

Right in your face, it sticks, and still only half is true.

I’ll only transfer the truth, the lies, the problem’s still alive

Maybe there’s no cure, solution, 

just to fire lead through my hard drive.
12345678 microseconds til...69 pm

herewith fall lows ing lush goulash
   who doth pine  
   tongue waggin a fly wheel
   sincere soul
    whose shoe size
   measures about size nine

with pure motive to challenge
   thinking as my goal
   if drawn to language of wordsmith,
   or like this swiftly tailored/
   harried style of mine

   who wrought a jagged line
though i promise companionship
   twill be Harris Boss tweed fine
   a byte size musing to dine
with interpretation strictly
   within mind of the reader,

   which rich or on the dole
might nonetheless agree
   this post tubby asinine

mindfulness = the general under
lying sans this bloke, whose
philosophic eclectic metric,
hermetic, intrinsic...
outlook helps me access
and process reality.

toe this line to tread against da feet.

a personal yardstick as i plod
along boulevard of broken dreams,
whereby no animals will be harmed
in this life long journey before the kiss
of death, whence me cremated ashes
will be dispersed across temporal plane
from natural forces of earth, wind and fire.

Arch back like a professional ballet dancer
to stand out from other pedestrian applicants
seeking to fill my well worn shoes.

Illuminate your soul via modest
communication sans sole full insight
acquired thru being apprenticed with
storied prestigious law firm of Anne nic Culle,  
Achilles Heale, and Marathon Nike.

Keep your nose to the academic grind
stone despite temptation to appropriate
international family business and graduation
with supreme accolades from this famous father.

He i.e. slim shady forsook frivolity
per his peers in exchange a stock
reputation of gentility honesty,
and integrity despite humble roots
only male heir of a Middle Eastern
European Jewish mother and father.

They scrimped, saved and sacrificed
scarce resources to set stage for
this scion of well deserved fame and fortune.

Never forget those grandparents
whose adherence to work their
fingers to the bone (literally)
allowed, enabled and provided
this founding partner per the trio
of stalwart attorneys for underdogs
of the World Wide Web.

Match deeds with credo of obedience
to the law of the land,
as epitomized by Abraham Lincoln.

Such obeisance to a democratic dogma
will be firm steppingstones to engender
and kindle an Amazon zone of cathartic
karma from paternal persona.

Such acquiescence toward morals
of the conscience (and remembrance
of previous generations blood, sweat
and tears) will serve as intrinsic manna
for clients to clamor like an unstoppable
rolling stone to seek counsel from,
whose genuine heart felt equalitarian demeanor
a near perfect recipe for satisfaction
helping others smooth out jagged
abutments arising in their lives.

Rather than lecture and command
with a dictatorial cutthroat reign of terror
(as casually espoused in “The Prince”
by Machiavelli), this democratic,
humanistic, liberal minded torchbearer
of justice advises active listening (as
advocated by the late Jean Dole (who
eternally rests within a pineapple
under the sea), my renown mentor
from Lima, Pennsylvania), inculcating
intuitive posturing toward delivering
random acts of kindness.

This includes offer services pro bono
if an individual, family, municipality,
et cetera appears copacetic yet struggles
against insurmountable odds from
fickle finger of fate.

Exemplify by example of zeal for
underdog (immersed in catastrophic
series of unfortunate events) that money
need not be demanded before welfare
of down trodden such exuberance
witnessing an ear to ear smile of gratitude.

Rather than be biased, inclined
to be prejudiced based on cursory
observations of one or many barely
clinging to the life raft of survival,
I (as a humble human) encourage
a relationship of trust before casting
an indiscriminate eye toward those
less fortunate to live in the lap of luxury.

Luck (or the lack thereof) an invisible
yet potent additive to this mix those flush
with disposable income or exiled
to a hand to mouth hardscrabble dilemma.

Daily acknowledgement for ethnic,
genetic and quixotic claydice throw of chance
in tandem with loving support immediate
kith and kin instrumental keeping
in check bombastically egotistical, haughtily
radical degradation of fixation of values
steeped in appreciation of aesthetics,
beauty, charm, decency,
equality from gifts hoed inside.

Joyfulness keeps love moving
needling offset predilections.

Quality rests squarely upon pillars
of staying within bounds of service
to those less able bodied or beset
with untold obstacles that discourage
setting virtue (or the closest approximation
of what that means to the inquiring mind)
as precedent to blaze
a trail of care and concern.

Always maintain benevolent devotion
foreswearing greediness.

Invoke keepsake mandating omnipotent
natural personal righteousness to vaccinate
yourself against heinous, nefarious, pernicious,
et cetera rapacious trapdoors of selfishness.
-----------------------------------------------      
from::matthew scott harris

of unsound body, mind and spirit than
by all means and ways -- please ripple
lye to me, an adroitly, artistically brief,
crazily dazzling, erotically frisky, gladly
*****, ineluctably juicy, lovely, magically
noopy, opulently private, purring
quietly, romantically **** reap ply.

yes?

postscript: i in conjunction with zippy, x2c, yuppy, trippy, sleepy, sneezy, queasy, ruby, kooky, loony, jessie, inky, happy, grumpy, grouchy, ******, ernie, doobie, clumsy, et cetera plus snow white can vouch safe that the democratic party approves of thee above  message.
Mykenzie Oct 2018
you came
you left

 and yet the trees still sway
     and summer still comes
all that remains is a strange longing,
 memori­es that rose like cyclops in the
night
                      
the trapdoors of desire,
 the black-holes of our sharpened
       souls

if you could be god, and
               come back - if only for a moment, to tell me I was right,
 then I would make your words my epitaph)

my purpled lover, like  a
bulbous flower protruding from it's
 stem,
you have eaten all the breadcrumbs,
so how will I find you again?

­ even if you had disappeared like
  an evening ghost,
      our souls had touched,
  and for the first time
  I could see the stars in other  peoples' eyes
Antares Cliff Dec 2016
When you asked me to name
What I valued most
My head tilted
To the canvas sky
And I failed to suppress
The thought of your eyes
Which shone brighter
than all the stars combined

I couldn't understand
I failed to comprehend
How no one else saw
How no one else realised
His eyes
All colours in one
Which
Despite all matters
All falls and pits,
All trapdoors and declines
Constantly shone
With radiance that never faltered

But he faded
Slowly,
Slowly, but surely
So I clung harder
And yet he managed to slip
Through the cracks
between my frail fingers

And from him
I learned
Beautiful things aren’t meant
to last nearly long enough

Beauty is best kept for memories
To hide the  cruelty
Rotting the wondrous
Stealing the beautiful

When you told me to describe
the ugliest sight  had observed
The first thing that came to mind
was the way your hand would wrap itself around the bottle
And how your eyes would roll back in undisturbed bliss
As you emptied it down your throat

When you told me to express
the worst feeling in the world
The problem was,
I had no word to describe
the rush of hurt and pain
that would choke my lungs
When the sound of the slamming door
That would resound
within the place
we had once called home

When you told me to name
my favourite thing in the world
I looked up to the sky
and couldn’t help but notice
That as bright as the stars were
The flicker, the pulse in your eyes would transcend them every time

When you told me to describe
the prettiest sight  could ever witness
The first thing that came to mind
was the way
you would throw your head back and laugh
And how your eyes would light up
Better than the midnight stars
That would gleam in the midnight sky

When you told me to express
the greatest feeling in the world
The problem was,
There was no word to describe
the overwhelming feeling
that would seep into my veins
When the sound of your melodious laugh
would ring in my ears, echoing and echoing

When you told me to name
the worst thing in the world
I looked up at the sky
and couldn’t help but notice
That the darkness of the sky
Would rival the emptiness in your eyes

Even gone,
the stars could never transcend his eyes
And I doubt that anything
would glow with the same radiance
As he did.
Ciel Noir Apr 2019
If you want to understand
If you want to know
Read the truth
Between the words
The shadow of my soul

Words are windows
Words are walls
Some words are trapdoors
Come into my labyrinth
Stay forevermore
Aditya Roy Mar 2019
Within the love life
The killer trapdoors lie
Trust the spirit
おく に ひと
いちのおわあり ひとりでしゅ
なんだ こと だ
Sashi buru Dana
Jana Vivi
Sayonara
Ichinichinoowari ni, watashi wa hitoridesu
Everybody sharing planet Earth means,
     they moost breathe
     the same befouled air
encircling the webbed material,
     physical, and terrestrial wide world,
     where noxious poisons get spewed

     from industries,
     that wantonly belch and blare
seemingly, indiscriminatingly,
     and deplorably - toxins affecting
     all living organisms - care
lessly damaging, harming,

     and extinguishing offspring
     at reproductive stage
     of Mother Earth, who dare
ring lee fight back with tooth,
     and nail despoliation polluting,
     unleashing, and

     zapping sea and sky e're
decreasing biodiversity necessary
     ditto clear cutting,
     encroaching habitats,
     and killing off vital
     linkedin ecosystems fear

row huss lee trump glare
ring depredations here
and now exacerbated inhere
rent lee by overturned
     ecological/environmental
     bulwarks jeer

ring lee scrapped by a president,
     who stole winning ballot
     springing trapdoors to garrote
legislation supporting
     jerryrigged oblate spheroid,
     with mean temperature so hot

to evaporate flora,
     and fauna protections
eventually rendering **** sapiens
     a metrical footnote
     with only an umlaut
to punctuate how greed
     spelled what their
     own extinction wrought!
gmb Apr 2020
i sit back and feel the joints of my hips respond to the pressure, bones creaking like a staircase, a palm on my waist. you leave fingerprints, invisible, and bruises that aren’t. i breathe with the movements. i think briefly of trapdoors. my heartbeat slows and quickens to the tune of your vocal chords.
Amanda Francis Jul 2018
My thoughts explode like forgotten shells.
Trapdoors and boobie traps lurk in the mundane.
Insidious memories visit me undet the cover of sleep.
Ive not woken up for days.

I cant get you out if my head. I cant get my. Words out my mouth.
Excerpt from “fake” encomium given years ago...
at Lake Wobegone High School (my alma mater),

and recently discovered ridiculous rough draft
amidst plethora of junk emails
while practice reading some lines
regarding Midsummer Night's Dream
upcoming performance.

Arch back like a professional ballet dancer
to stand out from other pedestrian applicants
seeking to fill my well-worn shoes.

Illuminate your soul
via modest communication
sans sole full insight
acquired thru being apprenticed
with this storied prestigious law firm
of Anne Culle, Achilles Heale,
and Marathon Nike.
  
Keep your nose
to the academic grindstone
despite the temptation
to appropriate the international family business
and graduate with supreme accolades
from this famous father.

He forsook frivolity
per his peers
in exchange for a stock reputation
of gentility honesty, and integrity
despite his humble roots
as the only male heir
of a Middle Eastern European
Jewish mother and father.

They scrimped, saved and sacrificed
scarce resources to set the stage
for this scion
of well-deserved fame and fortune.

Never forget those grandparents
whose adherence to work
their fingers to the bone
(literally) allowed, enabled
and provided this founding partner
per the trio of stalwart attorneys
for the underdogs
of the World Wide Web.

Match deeds with credo of obedience
to the law of the land,
as epitomized by Abraham Lincoln.

Such obeisance to a democratic dogma
will be firm stepping-stones
to engender and kindle tinder
an Amazon zone
of cathartic karma
from paternal persona.

Such acquiescence toward morals
of the conscience (and remembrance
of previous generations
blood, sweat and tears)
will serve as intrinsic manna
for clients to clamor
like an unstoppable rolling stone
to seek counsel
from one whose genuine
heart felt equalitarian demeanor
a near perfect recipe for satisfaction
for helping others smooth out
jagged abutments arising in their lives.

Rather than lecture and command
with a dictatorial cutthroat reign of terror
(as casually espoused in “The Prince”
by Machiavelli), this democratic,
humanistic, liberal minded torchbearer
of justice advises active listening
(as advocated by the late Jean Dole,
my renown mentor from Lima, Pennsylvania),
inculcating intuitive posturing
toward delivering random acts of kindness.

This includes offer services
pro bono (with Cher full smile)
if an individual, family,
municipality, et cetera appears copacetic
yet struggles against insurmountable odds
from even chew will fickle finger of fate.

Exemplify by example of zeal
for the underdog
(immersed in some catastrophic series
of unfortunate events)
that money need not be demanded
before the welfare of the downtrodden
(sic – such as the Harris Family
from Penn Valley –
who live among the wealthiest people,
yet feel like outcasts of Poker Flats)
from the mere exuberance
of witnessing an ear to ear smile of gratitude.

Rather than be biased, inclined
to be prejudiced based
on cursory observations
of one or many barely clinging
to the life raft of survival,
I (as a humble human)
encourage a relationship of trust
before casting an indiscriminate eye
toward those less fortunate
to live in the lap of luxury.

Luck (or the lack thereof)
an invisible yet potent additive
to this mix for those flush
with disposable income
or exiled to a hand to mouth
hardscrabble existential dilemma.

Daily acknowledgement
for ethnic, genetic and quixotic
dice throw of chance in tandem
with loving support of immediate
kith and kin instrumental
in keeping in check
bombastically egotistical,
haughtily radical degradation
of fixation of values
steeped in appreciation
of aesthetics, beauty, charm,
decency, equality
from gifts hoed inside.

Joyfulness keeps love moving
needling offset predilections.

Quality rests squarely
upon the pillars of staying
within the bounds of service
to those less able bodied
or beset with untold obstacles
that discourage setting virtue
(or the closest approximation
of what that means
to the inquiring mind)
as precedent to blaze a trail
of care and concern.

Always maintain benevolent devotion
forswearing greediness.
    
Invoke keepsake mandating omnipotent
natural personal righteousness
to vaccinate yourself against
heinous, nefarious, pernicious,
et cetera rapacious
trapdoors of selfishness.
waskosims Jun 2020
the floors of trick vocabulary
hide trapdoors of meaning
any word can fall through
and come out the other side
altered,undecipherable,confused
nobody to translate
frustrated?
don't be
this was supposed to happen
one day you will return to us
your tongue reuniting
with the roof of your mouth
and you will begin again
to softly click
your whereabouts
to the rest of us waiting for you
hidden in the shaded thick
miles upriver
..the place
where we all first sang together
songs that flew off the tips of our small crisp tongues
tongues we stole from the painted birds.
offers his unsolicited tidbits
as scene courtesy
the following virtually
staged philosophical insight.

Arch back like
a professional ballet dancer
to stand out from other pedestrian applicants
seeking to fill my well-worn shoes
that fit my little feet.

Illuminate your soul
via modest communication
sans toe tilly tubular sole full insight
acquired thru being apprenticed
with storied prestigious law firm
of Anne Culle, Achilles Heale,
and Marathon Nike.

Keep your nose to the academic grindstone
despite the temptation
to appropriate the international family business
and graduation with supreme accolades
from one unnamed famous father.

He forsook frivolity per his peers
in exchange for a stock reputation
of gentility honesty, and integrity
despite his humble roots
as the only male heir
of a Middle Eastern European
Jewish mother and father.

They scrimped, saved and sacrificed
scarce resources to set the stage
for this scion of well-deserved
fame and fortune.

Never forget those grandparents
whose adherence to work their fingers
to the bone (literally)
allowed, enabled and provided
this founding partner
per the trio of stalwart attorneys
for the underdogs
of the World Wide Web.

Match deeds with credo
of obedience to the law
of the land, as epitomized
by Abraham Lincoln.

Such obeisance to a democratic dogma
will be firm stepping-stones
to engender and kindle
an Amazon zone of cathartic karma
from paternal persona.

Such acquiescence toward morals
of the conscience
(and remembrance of previous generations
blood, sweat and tears)
will serve as intrinsic manna
for clients to clamor
like an unstoppable rolling stone
to seek counsel from one
whose genuine heartfelt equalitarian demeanor
a near perfect recipe for satisfaction
for helping others smooth out
jagged abutments arising in their lives.

Rather than lecture and command
with a dictatorial cutthroat reign of terror
(as casually espoused in “The Prince”
by Machiavelli), this democratic,
humanistic, liberal minded
torchbearer of justice advises
active listening (as advocated
by the late Jean Dole,
my renown mentor
from Lima, Pennsylvania),
inculcating intuitive posturing
toward delivering random acts of kindness.

This includes offer services pro bono
if an individual, family, municipality,
et cetera appears copacetic
yet struggles against insurmountable
odds from the fickle finger of fate.

Exemplify by example of zeal
for the underdog
(immersed in some catastrophic series
of unfortunate events)
that money need not be demanded
before the welfare of the downtrodden
(sic – such as the Harns Family
from Penn Valley –
who live among the wealthiest people,
yet feel like outcasts of Poker Flats)
from the mere exuberance
of witnessing an ear to ear
smile of gratitude.

Rather than be biased,
inclined to be prejudiced
based on cursory observations
of one or many barely clinging
to the life raft of survival,
I (as a humble human)
encourage a relationship of trust
before casting an indiscriminate eye
toward those less fortunate
to live in the lap of luxury.

Luck (or the lack thereof)
an invisible yet potent additive
to this mix for those flush
with disposable income or exiled
to a hand to mouth hardscrabble dilemma.

Daily acknowledgement for
ethnic, genetic and quixotic
dice throw of chance in tandem
with loving support of immediate
kith and kin instrumental in keeping
in check bombastically egotistical,
haughtily radical degradation
of fixation of values steeped
in appreciation of aesthetics, beauty,
charm, decency, equality
from gifts hoed inside.

Joyfulness keeps love moving
needling offset predilections.

Quality rests squarely
upon the pillars of staying
within the bounds of service
to those less able bodied or beset
with untold obstacles that discourage
setting virtue (or the closest approximation
of what that means
to the inquiring mind)
as precedent to blaze a trail
of care and concern.

Always maintain benevolent devotion
forswearing greediness.

Invoke keepsake mandating
omnipotent natural personal righteousness
to vaccinate yourself against
heinous, nefarious, pernicious,
et cetera rapacious
trapdoors of selfishness.
Yenson Nov 2020
And in the deserts of tidy Freedom-villes
the sandstorm swirled viperously
caking and choking orderly
the regimented souls
fine dry dusts in eyes
minds dusty to crisps
so in regimented attires
and regimented thoughts
they all move in regimented ways
through the trapdoors labelled exits
that again led to the sandstorm swirling viperously
now some languish in fear as they had marched regimentally
toward exits and burnt bridges in regimental style for the freedom
to be like all the other regimented people and do regimented things

— The End —