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"tsa" poems
What poem will you wear, when first we meet? How will I recognition-you, when you transverse my land? Unknown our faces, our voices, Only silent words electronic exchanged Will lantern, it be: one, if by land, two, if by sea? Will your ID badge, passport stamped and state, Your chest bear a witness-sign? The Arrivals Board flashes:                     une poétesse est arrivé                     eine Dichterin ist angekomme                     a poetess has arrived                     una poetisa ha llegado Will there be a haiku in your hair, A limerick exposed by raucous grin, Or just ten words allotted for your entire visit? **Desperate to locate Urgent to sensate Matters I take Into two cupped hands, On the shoeshine stand Climb and recite-shout** Know me by my words, Know me by the lilt lyrical Of my American accented, Canadian Tongue of my mother Know me by my words, Carved by time on my forehead, Poetry is the blood of this fool's soul, Hear me, find me, look upon me slamming Poems are the thorns in my palms, See me crucified, bleeding stanzas Upon my shoeshine stand cross Recitation resuscitation welcoming: Benedicting Gloria, Gloria, Gloria But if this should fail your attention to secure, Or the TSA unappreciate my second coming, Look for the crowd gathered round, A man of moderate height, in a tall hat, Beard scraggly, looking sorrowful Reciting the Gettysburg Address Either way, Should be easy peasy to find me, Grab your bag, off to short-term parking This is how an Americana poet meets n' greets Arriving poetess from a foreign land Is there any other way? ------------------------------ Postscipt **Alas, five years on and I know in my heart that you are not coming...**
0
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 3:17 AM UTC
What poem will you wear, when first we meet? (Aug. 2013)
What poem will you wear, when first we meet? How will I recognition-you, when you transverse my land? Unknown our faces, our voices, Only silent words electronic exchanged Will lantern, it be: one, if by land, two, if by sea? Will your ID badge, passport stamped and state, Your chest bear a witness-sign? The Arrivals Board flashes:                     une poétesse est arrivé                     eine Dichterin ist angekomme                     a poetess has arrived                     una poetisa ha llegado Will there be a haiku in your hair, A limerick exposed by raucous grin, Or just ten words allotted for your entire visit? **Desperate to locate Urgent to sensate Matters I take Into two cupped hands, On the shoeshine stand Climb and recite-shout** Know me by my words, Know me by the lilt lyrical Of my American accented, Canadian Tongue of my mother Know me by my words, Carved by time on my forehead, Poetry is the blood of this fool's soul, Hear me, find me, look upon me slamming Poems are the thorns in my palms, See me crucified, bleeding stanzas Upon my shoeshine stand cross Recitation resuscitation welcoming: Benedicting Gloria, Gloria, Gloria But if this should fail your attention to secure, Or the TSA unappreciate my second coming, Look for the crowd gathered round, A man of moderate height, in a tall hat, Beard scraggly, looking sorrowful Reciting the Gettysburg Address Either way, Should be easy peasy to find me, Grab your bag, off to short-term parking This is how an Americana poet meets n' greets Arriving poetess from a foreign land Is there any other way? ------------------------------ Postscipt **Alas, five years on and I know in my heart that you are not coming...**
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52
“T'was the night before Christmas ...” and Santa was busy. The reindeer were antsy the elves in a tizzy. The missus was tending the ovens like mad And turning out cookies to make children glad. The wood chips were flying the sawdust was thick The workshop was bulging with toys from St. Nick. Contractors from Sega, Nintendo and Sony Were working on games (and a robotic pony). Iphones and Ipads (with virus removal) Were packed in their boxes and stamped "Elf Approval". Last minute touches were added with flair While elf stylists tended to Santa's white hair. Elf tailors were making some last alterations To Santa's red coat and his waist tribulations. The weather was fair as the weather-elf stated The routes were approved and departure was slated. Bells had been polished and harnesses buffed While repairs were addressed for the hoofs that were scuffed. The antlers were festooned with ribbons and bells And the reindeer were covered with elf flying spells. The clock approached midnight as Santa was seated. The countdown began as the flight crew was greeted. H-hour neared and the tension was growing. Outside it grew cloudy and then, began snowing. But Santa just grinned as the weather-elf winced. "Don't worry, my friend.   Our time has commenced." For the weather was nothing to Santa's conveyance. His reindeer and sleigh were immune to"delay-ance". With a whirl of his whiskers and a flick of his wrist The reindeer were launched in a flash of white mist. And I heard him exclaim through his teleport ray: "ALERT TSA. Tell 'em I'm on my WAY!"
0
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 9:27 AM UTC
T’was The Night Before Christmas
“T'was the night before Christmas ...” and Santa was busy. The reindeer were antsy the elves in a tizzy. The missus was tending the ovens like mad And turning out cookies to make children glad. The wood chips were flying the sawdust was thick The workshop was bulging with toys from St. Nick. Contractors from Sega, Nintendo and Sony Were working on games (and a robotic pony). Iphones and Ipads (with virus removal) Were packed in their boxes and stamped "Elf Approval". Last minute touches were added with flair While elf stylists tended to Santa's white hair. Elf tailors were making some last alterations To Santa's red coat and his waist tribulations. The weather was fair as the weather-elf stated The routes were approved and departure was slated. Bells had been polished and harnesses buffed While repairs were addressed for the hoofs that were scuffed. The antlers were festooned with ribbons and bells And the reindeer were covered with elf flying spells. The clock approached midnight as Santa was seated. The countdown began as the flight crew was greeted. H-hour neared and the tension was growing. Outside it grew cloudy and then, began snowing. But Santa just grinned as the weather-elf winced. "Don't worry, my friend.   Our time has commenced." For the weather was nothing to Santa's conveyance. His reindeer and sleigh were immune to"delay-ance". With a whirl of his whiskers and a flick of his wrist The reindeer were launched in a flash of white mist. And I heard him exclaim through his teleport ray: "ALERT TSA. Tell 'em I'm on my WAY!"
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64
We are watching your every move in the airports of america like the stock market every day. We are telling you that this is the way you should talk about other cultures because we are the thought police. We are telling you that we will close your fun establishments early because we want to change the culture. Yes folks Big Brother is watching. We are demanding you buy into the TSA agenda of taking away your privacy at airports. We are demanding you sacrifice freedom because 9/11 was our way of starting the New World Order Yes folks big brother is watching your moves.
0
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 2:06 PM UTC
Big Brother
in our besieged republic snipers are popping up everywhere taking *** shots ending lives with a well placed head shot active shooters star in world premier events jokers rise like dark knights casting large looming shadows on real 3D cinemax multiplexed screens sprinkling overpriced buckets of popcorn with generous dollops of blood others head back to school still ****** about missing recess and excessive sentences to detention halls where bullies tortured scrawny inmates with wedgies and painful ***** twisters they’ve come back to even the score leaving bullet hole pockmarks on Sharpie smudged   smart boards declaring endless summer vacations for classrooms of children who don’t give wedgies and only dream of soft ***** these urban guerillas are now working to liberate airports from the tyranny of TSA agents fulfilling PATRIOT ACT duties for 10 bucks an hour and last night the latest active shooter showed up at the Garden State Plaza, -my hometown mall of america- mumbling about his Grand Theft Auto score, strung out and crashing from an unfilled pharma addiction script he grew up as a Highwayman in Teaneck a former classmate working at Nordstroms said he was a really good kid he was, one of the good ones, he could have shot some people but the only person he shot in the head was himself legions of police officers surrounding the mall stood down grateful for overtime milling about in the flashing red strobes inhaling the heady blue fumes rising to commend Bergen County Blue Laws and next Sunday’s time and a half active shooter training day Jimi Hendrix: Machine Gun Oakland 11/5/13 jbm
0
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
active shooter
in our besieged republic snipers are popping up everywhere taking *** shots ending lives with a well placed head shot active shooters star in world premier events jokers rise like dark knights casting large looming shadows on real 3D cinemax multiplexed screens sprinkling overpriced buckets of popcorn with generous dollops of blood others head back to school still ****** about missing recess and excessive sentences to detention halls where bullies tortured scrawny inmates with wedgies and painful ***** twisters they’ve come back to even the score leaving bullet hole pockmarks on Sharpie smudged   smart boards declaring endless summer vacations for classrooms of children who don’t give wedgies and only dream of soft ***** these urban guerillas are now working to liberate airports from the tyranny of TSA agents fulfilling PATRIOT ACT duties for 10 bucks an hour and last night the latest active shooter showed up at the Garden State Plaza, -my hometown mall of america- mumbling about his Grand Theft Auto score, strung out and crashing from an unfilled pharma addiction script he grew up as a Highwayman in Teaneck a former classmate working at Nordstroms said he was a really good kid he was, one of the good ones, he could have shot some people but the only person he shot in the head was himself legions of police officers surrounding the mall stood down grateful for overtime milling about in the flashing red strobes inhaling the heady blue fumes rising to commend Bergen County Blue Laws and next Sunday’s time and a half active shooter training day Jimi Hendrix: Machine Gun Oakland 11/5/13 jbm
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123
We are stopped for special checks At TSA and immigration We are murdered In our house of worship Six innocent lives lost Oak Creek Gurdwara, 2012 Racial slurs hit our hearts: Sand ****** ISIS Towel head Out of fear We stop wearing our beautiful salwar kameezes, lenghas, saris, and kurta pajamas In colors and embroidery your clothes could only ever dream of We take off our crowns you call turbans And replace them with baseball caps We think twice about speaking Punjabi, Our mother tongue, Around those that don't recognize it We stop packing our grandma's handmade saag and roti To school for lunch And start eating Processed Lunchables We separate into two people Our American selves And our Punjabi selves Almost never does anyone meet both All because You don't know The difference Between a Sikh and a terrorist
0
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
Ignorance
Light weight, black glossy, perfection You must hold such a weapon with confidence Slender black arrows with green feathers Bundled in the fine homemade black leather quiver The silver steel tips made to **** Sunlight playing peak a boo With the shadows all around you The ancient trees look down upon you The wind picks up and gently plays with your hair You breathe in the familiar smell Of the ancient forest you call home You haven't caught an a-wi in days What will the hungry little ones do? You see a flash of movement and you freeze Draw a single arrow from the quiver on your back Without a sound you take your position Silently with practiced ease you aim and fire You hear the death cry of the animal you have shot Swiftly you run to were the cry came There lays the plumpest most beautiful a-wi you have seen in moons Thanking the a-wi with the words you were taught as a child "Thank you dear sister/brother for giving your life so that my family could continue to live theirs" With the sacred whisper you end the a-wi's pain with a quick slice from your blade Smiling and whispering you’re thanks to the Great Spirit You run as fast as you can to get the villages warrior braves You are small but you are part of the Tsa-la-gi Therefore you are never alone
0
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
The Girl Hunter
early morning and the same sun rises over distant lands and close-by skyscrapers searing rusting infrastructure with its harsh orange glow spreading westward, stretching over asphalt pathways that connect, divide, structure, and destroy alighting wearied faces of automobile drivers careening through their morning commutes, consuming caffeine like ******* while they deftly maneuver their 2,000 pounds of steel behind, along, aside, and ahead of their neighbors this, is New Jersey, where all roads lead to Newark and there is nothing left but roads approaching the colossus, the cars cram and crawl into curb-side cases narrowly avoiding calamitous collisions and condescending traffic cops doors, fly open and a mad flurry of arms and legs, boxes and backpacks come whirl-winding out onto the entryway rushed goodbyes and abrupt adieus color the palette of the doorway dripping inside, bleeding into the harshness of late businessmen and screaming families. Shoes Off. Laptops Out. and pray dearly that the TSA doesn't shove their fingers inside of you today. arms up, legs spread exposed to the imperceptible energy of American exceptionalism the magnetic arm swings, impregnating its subjects with the Joy of Fear and the awe of empire swings again, and releases the hapless passenger from its total control Through. Checked. Complete. Pass Go, collect $200. and into the international installation itself. Enjoy your flight.
0
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
not quite Rome
He is who you want to see at the airport, half asleep, pastel sweatshirt half zipped. Half length shorts ending just above the knees. Eyes matching the green and blue abstract swirls patterned into the carpet to hide passenger sick-up. The background to travelling japanese circus photos, they’ll look back in their scrapbooks, past the ponies on the baggage carousel, see him waiting for the delayed international arrival. Stiff legs tread quietly down grey hallways, stringing a stickered suitcase along moving walkways, thoughts caught between continents, in escalator’s teeth. Tiptoeing over the hot coffee spilled like oil, the taste of morning breath clinging to the back of the throat, chalky as chilled ashes, abandoned and unswallowed. When the taxis are cold and the day’s been worn out, before it’s even begun; patchy fabric stretched over toes rubbing thin on the inside of your shoes, he’ll circle your head like a daisy crown. To hold the tiny scars on his broad shoulders, traces blemishes like a mine sweeper, would be like orange juice at 40 000 ft. Intimate in a way only TSA agents know how to be, looking for explosives behind the ribcage, to the left.
0
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
International Airport
There is power within the people. Not the politicians. Witness this political climate. Federal employees on furlough without pay. TSA employees calling out. But it was the airline traffic controllers that could have halted it all. Not a single plane could take flight. While the elected fools fight. No pay, no work. Even the president protection squad could halted his travel. With just the phase for your safety sir stay within the White House. ANOTHER SIGN THAT THE POWER IS WITHIN THE PEOPLE. The group always proposing walls and segregation camps? Should be the ones assigned to feel the agony of the hurt and pain.
0
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 12:27 AM UTC
Power Within The People
some of us walk insistently, instinctively, and instantly to and upon the edged path, this physical nexus & abstract mental locus, a cliffside enticing rock strewn trail, drawn of men, by men, for men (yes, men are people too, still) enthralling views, down to the riverside, where eyes intuit the beauteous aroma of precious precocious precarious precipices and the near-stench of mortality amidst wafting scents of inane undesirable need,   hints of destruction, or, alternating eager relief, like a ****** infused, instant attractiveness, making weakness in the knees, all too real, trembling with a delicious accented edge of a fresh, familiar scent, fresh baked bread, an all enveloping consumption need now! to crave what we fear, to fear what we crave our cravings are craven, this twisted sense, annuls our common sensibility, yet, titillates our pleasured imagined relief, releases, our unsated, even better, our insatiable curiosity to tremble, an entire body enjoined by vibrato~ enticing tremulations, shaken and stirred, this danger choice releases something primordial, escape? a reckless wrecking so deeply designed, it has its very own designation…death wish multitudes of easy choices afforded my senses, and by accident, all mine chosen, all nearby, I travel the esplanade près de the East River, where even if calm is the sole visiblilty, undercurrents and the unpredictable passage of container wakes and the larger freighters will hand you down, so easy, to become parcel to a littered river bottom of centuries’ artifacts but even more tempting, the balcony, a hop, skip and a jump unlocked, mere ten steps, no need for a running start why it’s the “height of convenience,” he ruefully winces, and not even any TSA lines or inconveniencing “conveniences” Why this calamity seems so desperately desirable, Why this unabrogated feat so featured, nay, even feted in our hot? cold? bloodstream “Why just men? *I don't know, Perhaps, it is all I know.*”
0
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 5:42 PM UTC
Men & Heights. (A Companion Piece to “Do You Know Why Men Cry in the Bathroom”)
some of us walk insistently, instinctively, and instantly to and upon the edged path, this physical nexus & abstract mental locus, a cliffside enticing rock strewn trail, drawn of men, by men, for men (yes, men are people too, still) enthralling views, down to the riverside, where eyes intuit the beauteous aroma of precious precocious precarious precipices and the near-stench of mortality amidst wafting scents of inane undesirable need,   hints of destruction, or, alternating eager relief, like a ****** infused, instant attractiveness, making weakness in the knees, all too real, trembling with a delicious accented edge of a fresh, familiar scent, fresh baked bread, an all enveloping consumption need now! to crave what we fear, to fear what we crave our cravings are craven, this twisted sense, annuls our common sensibility, yet, titillates our pleasured imagined relief, releases, our unsated, even better, our insatiable curiosity to tremble, an entire body enjoined by vibrato~ enticing tremulations, shaken and stirred, this danger choice releases something primordial, escape? a reckless wrecking so deeply designed, it has its very own designation…death wish multitudes of easy choices afforded my senses, and by accident, all mine chosen, all nearby, I travel the esplanade près de the East River, where even if calm is the sole visiblilty, undercurrents and the unpredictable passage of container wakes and the larger freighters will hand you down, so easy, to become parcel to a littered river bottom of centuries’ artifacts but even more tempting, the balcony, a hop, skip and a jump unlocked, mere ten steps, no need for a running start why it’s the “height of convenience,” he ruefully winces, and not even any TSA lines or inconveniencing “conveniences” Why this calamity seems so desperately desirable, Why this unabrogated feat so featured, nay, even feted in our hot? cold? bloodstream “Why just men? *I don't know, Perhaps, it is all I know.*”
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59
Tonight, at work, I asked 10 people if they knew of what had happened at Los Angeles International Airport (henceforth: LAX) not 30 hours earlier. Only 2 had heard of it. One, because a cousin was traveling that day and, the other, because a regular at his restaurant also had family who had left LAX just before it happened just in time to be stopped with the rest of the traffic for two and a half hours. I find that sort-of strange; information, even if misinformation spreads too quickly and ubiquitously now-a-days with our cell-phones, internet, satellite radio and media sensationalism for a mere 1 in 5 to have heard of this, and even then, only because of Family's accounts. Apparently, he acted alone, wearing military-like clothes and walked into LAX at about 9:20 AM PST on November 1 carrying a very cost-effective Military and Police AR-15 concealed in a bag with over a hundred spare .223 rounds and a note with words of sociopolitical dissent and an apparent intent to **** several Travel Security Agents. He mortally wounded a single TSA agent, after two shots and non-fatally wounded at least a few other people including two other TSA agents. This thorough chaos warranted sopping traffic, air and ground alike for over two hours, until his apprehension after being shot in the mouth and the leg by valiant officers of the LAXPD. Luckily, the Police had trained for "this exact situation not three weeks before" Wait, what was that? Oh, that's.. impeccable timing. Anyway. Few know about it and even less discuss it even a day and a half after it happened only 550 miles from here. I figured it'd be a bigger deal than this. What is up with this? It's rather srtange... quite queer indeed. The Suspect is in the hospital for his wounds and is now awaiting trial for ****** and Inciting Violence in an International Airport. Many people of Office cry out for the death penalty, even here in California, where we like to think we've "grown past that" The Travel Security Administration was established in the wake of 9/11 It is a branch of the Department of Defense. It took me much digging to find all this information on this event. Here it is for any who seeks it.
0
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
Quite queer indeed.
Tonight, at work, I asked 10 people if they knew of what had happened at Los Angeles International Airport (henceforth: LAX) not 30 hours earlier. Only 2 had heard of it. One, because a cousin was traveling that day and, the other, because a regular at his restaurant also had family who had left LAX just before it happened just in time to be stopped with the rest of the traffic for two and a half hours. I find that sort-of strange; information, even if misinformation spreads too quickly and ubiquitously now-a-days with our cell-phones, internet, satellite radio and media sensationalism for a mere 1 in 5 to have heard of this, and even then, only because of Family's accounts. Apparently, he acted alone, wearing military-like clothes and walked into LAX at about 9:20 AM PST on November 1 carrying a very cost-effective Military and Police AR-15 concealed in a bag with over a hundred spare .223 rounds and a note with words of sociopolitical dissent and an apparent intent to **** several Travel Security Agents. He mortally wounded a single TSA agent, after two shots and non-fatally wounded at least a few other people including two other TSA agents. This thorough chaos warranted sopping traffic, air and ground alike for over two hours, until his apprehension after being shot in the mouth and the leg by valiant officers of the LAXPD. Luckily, the Police had trained for "this exact situation not three weeks before" Wait, what was that? Oh, that's.. impeccable timing. Anyway. Few know about it and even less discuss it even a day and a half after it happened only 550 miles from here. I figured it'd be a bigger deal than this. What is up with this? It's rather srtange... quite queer indeed. The Suspect is in the hospital for his wounds and is now awaiting trial for ****** and Inciting Violence in an International Airport. Many people of Office cry out for the death penalty, even here in California, where we like to think we've "grown past that" The Travel Security Administration was established in the wake of 9/11 It is a branch of the Department of Defense. It took me much digging to find all this information on this event. Here it is for any who seeks it.
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48
Another haunt is arriving, feverishly fast tonight. Somehow I managed to delay the feeling, briefly, as it usually takes the manageable Subway and begins to fester around high noon, but today I skipped lunch, and the feeling didn't go underground for her mode of transport. "Maybe I hit the lotto?", I secretly questioned, and the haunt would forget her requiem, passing over me like those lucky "Kennedy Husbands" during the sixties' draft. But I was getting divorced while all the other couples were on a faster track heading in the opposite direction. Tonight the haunt is traveling 248 mph, on the Fùxīng ** bullet train from Beijing to Shanghai, en route to Vietnam. The conductor yelled, "All Aboard." and as if that period denoted a punctual mark, everyone manically crammed into the narrow vehicle. The first influx of lovely passengers to board were, Missus Anxiety, Sir Prior Transgressions and Dr. Heartache. Unlike Dr. Feelgood, They had been waiting in line from the previous night, like those idiots for last week’s black Friday sale. Mr. and Mrs. Payments Past Due cut in front of Bills Esquire and Judge Job Insecurity, for the Belmont Superfecta win, I guessed the right horses, just didn’t box my bet. Congressman Careless and Deputy ******* nearly trampled Senator Surrender on the way through the turnstiles, while Mayor Moan was flagged by security for groaning and pulled aside for a pat down and wheelchair inspection. The  Mayor was found to have ******* residue on his sleeve, but legitimate prescriptions for his aches and pains, so TSA wheeled him through the crack rocks Analog veins pump analog blood to my analog heart; traveling for the journey and not its hasty destination.   My analog heart will eventually be shelved, as it still salutes the Subway on its journey to my soul, but like dusting off an old Coen Brothers flick, my analog heart is still entertaining its vintage tick.
0
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 9:23 PM UTC
My Analog Heart
Another haunt is arriving, feverishly fast tonight. Somehow I managed to delay the feeling, briefly, as it usually takes the manageable Subway and begins to fester around high noon, but today I skipped lunch, and the feeling didn't go underground for her mode of transport. "Maybe I hit the lotto?", I secretly questioned, and the haunt would forget her requiem, passing over me like those lucky "Kennedy Husbands" during the sixties' draft. But I was getting divorced while all the other couples were on a faster track heading in the opposite direction. Tonight the haunt is traveling 248 mph, on the Fùxīng ** bullet train from Beijing to Shanghai, en route to Vietnam. The conductor yelled, "All Aboard." and as if that period denoted a punctual mark, everyone manically crammed into the narrow vehicle. The first influx of lovely passengers to board were, Missus Anxiety, Sir Prior Transgressions and Dr. Heartache. Unlike Dr. Feelgood, They had been waiting in line from the previous night, like those idiots for last week’s black Friday sale. Mr. and Mrs. Payments Past Due cut in front of Bills Esquire and Judge Job Insecurity, for the Belmont Superfecta win, I guessed the right horses, just didn’t box my bet. Congressman Careless and Deputy ******* nearly trampled Senator Surrender on the way through the turnstiles, while Mayor Moan was flagged by security for groaning and pulled aside for a pat down and wheelchair inspection. The  Mayor was found to have ******* residue on his sleeve, but legitimate prescriptions for his aches and pains, so TSA wheeled him through the crack rocks Analog veins pump analog blood to my analog heart; traveling for the journey and not its hasty destination.   My analog heart will eventually be shelved, as it still salutes the Subway on its journey to my soul, but like dusting off an old Coen Brothers flick, my analog heart is still entertaining its vintage tick.
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34
I called in sick today from work. My boss thinks that I am faking sick, That I'm off hanging out with my friends and creating memories. Well you can say he is right, No scratch that, he is wrong, kind of You see I'm not sick I'm just a little unwell I started noticing the symptoms when the morning blues started to wrap me around In this blanket called heartbreak I didn't like it, so I tried to grab a cup of coffee. But no matter how many times I would try to escape, she would tell me to come back to bed. I would I turned around to see her but there was no one there. Heartbreak is playing tricks with me as all I see on these sheets are my past with her It was getting worse I grabbed my car and rushed to the hospital The doctor grins at the x rays while decoding them in the light My fingers gallop on my knees as I say "what is it doctor am I dying of a broken heart?" He turns and says " no your heart is just too big" "Sorry sir I don't understand" i scratch my head because my mind wasn't clear You see it was foggy from all of my thoughts steaming in my head I couldn't see because she was the only reason to release the steam My doctor tells me that he knows what I need but he tells me that I need to find it. So he can't aid my broken heart The Doctor exiled me to my car. But did I forget my keys? I pull a TSA and strip search my pockets the pennies, nickels, and dimes escape And hide under the Car for refuge Then something happened. You showed up. You were so pretty Scratch that, you are so god **** beautiful You told me that I dropped a quarter I reply by saying thanks for dropping into my life. we left the car and walked in the cold winter night we talked and talked although my feet were freezing, I still felt warm with you. one time I was cuddling with you and noticed a scar down your chest I asked what is this? you told me that your heart is weak and is broken from the people who left their egos in their high school gym lockers. I kissed you and told you let me help with that. I can give you some my heart Because sharing is caring and I care so god **** much that if anything ever happened to you id Be like women’s pockets, pointless we laughed as we stared at the popcorn sprinkled on the ceiling. I got rid of those sheets the other day I don't see the blues anymore I see you I probably need to go back to work But sometimes I will occasionally call in sick so I can create memories with you
0
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Doctor, Doctor
I called in sick today from work. My boss thinks that I am faking sick, That I'm off hanging out with my friends and creating memories. Well you can say he is right, No scratch that, he is wrong, kind of You see I'm not sick I'm just a little unwell I started noticing the symptoms when the morning blues started to wrap me around In this blanket called heartbreak I didn't like it, so I tried to grab a cup of coffee. But no matter how many times I would try to escape, she would tell me to come back to bed. I would I turned around to see her but there was no one there. Heartbreak is playing tricks with me as all I see on these sheets are my past with her It was getting worse I grabbed my car and rushed to the hospital The doctor grins at the x rays while decoding them in the light My fingers gallop on my knees as I say "what is it doctor am I dying of a broken heart?" He turns and says " no your heart is just too big" "Sorry sir I don't understand" i scratch my head because my mind wasn't clear You see it was foggy from all of my thoughts steaming in my head I couldn't see because she was the only reason to release the steam My doctor tells me that he knows what I need but he tells me that I need to find it. So he can't aid my broken heart The Doctor exiled me to my car. But did I forget my keys? I pull a TSA and strip search my pockets the pennies, nickels, and dimes escape And hide under the Car for refuge Then something happened. You showed up. You were so pretty Scratch that, you are so god **** beautiful You told me that I dropped a quarter I reply by saying thanks for dropping into my life. we left the car and walked in the cold winter night we talked and talked although my feet were freezing, I still felt warm with you. one time I was cuddling with you and noticed a scar down your chest I asked what is this? you told me that your heart is weak and is broken from the people who left their egos in their high school gym lockers. I kissed you and told you let me help with that. I can give you some my heart Because sharing is caring and I care so god **** much that if anything ever happened to you id Be like women’s pockets, pointless we laughed as we stared at the popcorn sprinkled on the ceiling. I got rid of those sheets the other day I don't see the blues anymore I see you I probably need to go back to work But sometimes I will occasionally call in sick so I can create memories with you
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47
Flying used to be a treat, Fighting over the window seat, Peanuts, (free) and lunch at noon The next flight couldn’t come too soon. Now, it’s quite the opposite It seems no matter where I sit The person sitting next to me Carried four bags on (so they were free.) And now we go through TSA (Where half full water gets thrown away) Hurry, get in line, and wait Incoming plane is running late. Finally, boarded, seatbelt on, We know it’s time the plane is gone But on the tarmac we still sit We think a flight attendant quit. The pilot says, “We’re next in line.” “I’ll do my best to make up time.” And try he does, but it’s too late, The connecting flight has left the gate. “I’m sorry, Sir”, they say with guile They don’t even try to smile If on time you must arrive, You’d better rent a car and drive. PwL  3/31/16
0
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
Flying
Okay so I checked in my bags Dang I can't believe it was 49.7 pound I got so lucky Now TSA can I just skip that step in the process? could I just keep my shoes on because I don't want to get the nasty germs of America on my feet Ugh I have to take out all electronics Dang that guy is h....nope never mind Okay focus you don't want the thing to go beep beep beep Hi oh wait how old am I How do I not know this If I stutter they might think I'm an imposter "15" Was that really loud? Oh that lady's child is looking at me Must make weird face, wait now the line is moving Okay so shoes off check Electronics out check Phone out of pocket check Okay so now I go through the little gate thing Oh shoot is it beeping What did I leave on myself "Ma'am I need to check you" Oh shoot what did I do I swear I'm innocent I'm too young to go to prison mentally cries "Your good." So what set it off Okay so I'm not going to jail yes Waiting for my bags is like being at the grocery store check out lanes Ew the ground I can't Oh my gosh am I sweating Ugh I hate being nervous It's okay I made it through TSA alive But I have to go through it again on the way home
0
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
tsa
My scarfaced TSA prince I see you on imvu and I just want you Loving As we talk my Body aches for you My heart aches for when we can work Together And be together I pine for your presence Your love And touch
0
Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 11:04 AM UTC
TSA prince
You can find me in my room My refuge in a home I have lived in for too long Eating my bowl of hamhock soup with beans Recording Churchill's speeches on my iphone What a good man he was We must stand up to evil Stand up to those who threaten liberal democracies But in America today Our greatest enemy lies within, not without Our own government not holding fast To the principles upon which it was founded False illusions that this economic situation Is under control Like bailouts,stimulus packages, jobs bills, Regulation in industry, unconstitutional power grabs, Dismissal of historical laws, changes in the legislative process And changes in checks and balaces of power We have a false sense of security Big government is hurting us Not helping us TSA pat downs NSA privacy intrusions Destabilazation Over arching centralized government model Begins to take control A New World Order Is what they have planned No more national sovereignty I'm not going to the FEMA camp
0
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
Notes On Losing America
It’s a little complicated - what isn’t? But my plans have changed (again). Under some pressure - but not really - I was able to switch schools. From Johns Hopkins university to the Université Paris Cité. No doubt, the Hopkins acceptance helped. It’s like when you have a boyfriend - how the other boys suddenly find you more attractive? There was a comment someone made here, SbySW, I think - he said, “No more early jogs in Baltimore,” (as in danger-city) and that was a tumbler for me - I started checking and, yeah, Baltimore is very.. Baltimore-ish. Then my little mind started grinding. ‘If I’m already switching schools and since Peter (my bf) is still ‘stuck’ in Geneva.. Isn’t Paris closer? TRIGGER WARNING   So, here’s where the 'nepo baby' magic happens. I called my Grandmère. ring.ring “Umm, I’m thinking the Université Paris Cité might be better than Baltimore.. Is that CrAzY?” After a moment's silence, Grandmère said, “Can you forward me your Hopkins acceptance letter?” And thirty minutes later (9pm Paris time, mind you), I got a call from Université Paris Cité admissions. I’m in. The program starts September 1st. Then François, one of my Grandmère’s corporate minions called and said: "Johns Hopkins appreciated the quick notice. The movers will be there, for you and Charles @ 9am tomorrow morning. Your flight (to Paris) leaves @ 9:22pm tomorrow night.. Your TSA PreChecks, and Global Entry passes are complete. I mailed you your flight passes and "Imagine'R" (unlimited Paris travel) cards. A car will be waiting when you arrive.” François doesn't mess around. I looked at my watch, it was 2:45 in the afternoon. **** I need to tell Charles we're moving to Paris tomorrow.* Yes, I exist in a charmed circle - if you discount the contentiousness of the choice - my Mom’s now mad at me and my sister’s not too happy  - I’m totes charmed. Of course, the Hopkins acceptance (and the full-ride scholarship I declined) will now pass on to another lucky student. Sometimes what you want is lurking in the shadows just out of reach - do you dare disclose it - risk exposing it, when some might oppose it? The bible says “Ask and you shall receive.” In real life, that may require more than belief, if your secret wishes, you are to achieve. . . Songs for this: Give Paris One More Chance by Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers The Paris Match (feat. Tracey Thorn) by The Style Council Nostalgie Du Voyage by Tape Five
0
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 2:14 PM UTC
a little complicated
It’s a little complicated - what isn’t? But my plans have changed (again). Under some pressure - but not really - I was able to switch schools. From Johns Hopkins university to the Université Paris Cité. No doubt, the Hopkins acceptance helped. It’s like when you have a boyfriend - how the other boys suddenly find you more attractive? There was a comment someone made here, SbySW, I think - he said, “No more early jogs in Baltimore,” (as in danger-city) and that was a tumbler for me - I started checking and, yeah, Baltimore is very.. Baltimore-ish. Then my little mind started grinding. ‘If I’m already switching schools and since Peter (my bf) is still ‘stuck’ in Geneva.. Isn’t Paris closer? TRIGGER WARNING   So, here’s where the 'nepo baby' magic happens. I called my Grandmère. ring.ring “Umm, I’m thinking the Université Paris Cité might be better than Baltimore.. Is that CrAzY?” After a moment's silence, Grandmère said, “Can you forward me your Hopkins acceptance letter?” And thirty minutes later (9pm Paris time, mind you), I got a call from Université Paris Cité admissions. I’m in. The program starts September 1st. Then François, one of my Grandmère’s corporate minions called and said: "Johns Hopkins appreciated the quick notice. The movers will be there, for you and Charles @ 9am tomorrow morning. Your flight (to Paris) leaves @ 9:22pm tomorrow night.. Your TSA PreChecks, and Global Entry passes are complete. I mailed you your flight passes and "Imagine'R" (unlimited Paris travel) cards. A car will be waiting when you arrive.” François doesn't mess around. I looked at my watch, it was 2:45 in the afternoon. **** I need to tell Charles we're moving to Paris tomorrow.* Yes, I exist in a charmed circle - if you discount the contentiousness of the choice - my Mom’s now mad at me and my sister’s not too happy  - I’m totes charmed. Of course, the Hopkins acceptance (and the full-ride scholarship I declined) will now pass on to another lucky student. Sometimes what you want is lurking in the shadows just out of reach - do you dare disclose it - risk exposing it, when some might oppose it? The bible says “Ask and you shall receive.” In real life, that may require more than belief, if your secret wishes, you are to achieve. . . Songs for this: Give Paris One More Chance by Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers The Paris Match (feat. Tracey Thorn) by The Style Council Nostalgie Du Voyage by Tape Five
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You can find me in my room My refuge in a home I have lived in for too long Eating my bowl of hamhock soup with beans Recording Churchill's speeches on my iphone What a good man he was We must stand up to evil Stand up to those who threaten liberal democracies But in America today Our greatest enemy lies within, not without Our own government not holding fast To the principles upon which it was founded False illusions that this economic situation Is under control Like bailouts,stimulus packages, jobs bills, Regulation in industry, unconstitutional power grabs, Dismissal of historical laws, changes in the legislative process And changes in checks and balaces of power We have a false sense of security Big government is hurting us Not helping us TSA pat downs NSA privacy intrusions Destabilazation Over arching centralized government model Begins to take control A New World Order Is what they have planned No more national sovereignty I'm not going to the FEMA camp
0
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
Notes On Losing America
***DLING! ZIMMM BA BA!*** Kuring tsa phumf. *KKKu RRRing TSA FRAUMMF   AHHHHHHHHHHH! Riggete OmmmmlehTA ZIMMM BA BA
0
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 6:31 PM UTC
The Zim Proclamation
You can find me in my room My refuge in a home I have lived in for too long Eating my bowl of hamhock soup with beans Recording Churchill's speeches on my iphone What a good man he was We must stand up to evil Stand up to those who threaten liberal democracies But in America today Our greatest enemy lies within, not without Our own government not holding fast To the principles upon which it was founded False illusions that this economic situation Is under control Like bailouts,stimulus packages, jobs bills, Regulation in industry, unconstitutional power grabs, Dismissal of historical laws, changes in the legislative process And changes in checks and balaces of power We have a false sense of security Big government is hurting us Not helping us TSA pat downs NSA privacy intrusions Destabilazation Over arching centralized government model Begins to take control A New World Order Is what they have planned No more national sovereignty I'm not going to the FEMA camp
0
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:44 PM UTC
Losing America
Positive (+) fresh air and long stem roses young kittens and new love breaking bread with family and the first day of a new job hot fresh bread and chocolate the beach and peperoni pizza birth of a child and weddings. Negative (-) evil people and burnt toast gun tragedy and moldy fruit cheating lovers and bad movies broken bones and divorce missed flights and TSA lines losing championship games and cracked cell phone screens.
0
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
+/-
It's hard! I wish someone could just wake me up and tell me otherwise, tell me that it's all just a dream or at least tell me that it was just a trial run of how his funeral is gonna be when the time comes. Yes I was there when his coffin went down. Yes I was there when they covered his coffin with sand. Yes i was there. But it is hard! It's hard to believe that he is no longer. Why did you take him  away from us? See now you left us with so much pain. Yes he was in pain but why didn't you heal him like you heal the others? You know at times when I am at my house I hope to see him passing by carrying his small bag, wearing his formal clothes and his formal shoes shining as always bese athi " Kgola my baby uphi uMa wakho, o ba bolelle gore ke teng" and he will always give me at least R10 when he goes back to his place just to say tsa ngwana wa nnake. He will always shout at me for calling him malome, he would say " ntombatana ke ntatemogolo wago gake malome wago bo malome bago ke Thulane le Bongani uyeva" I guess my heart is still bleeding for him for he was the only ntatemogolo I knew from my dad's side.
0
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 5:19 PM UTC
It's hard
Your 'umble scrivener must be cleared every few years by Homeland Security for permission to teach as a part-time adjunct faculty of no status whatsoever at his little cinder-block community college. This began under President Bush. President Obama did not end it.  President Trump is for now making yuge deals or something. A Shining Checkpoint on a Hill There is within this body no pedigree And the DNA is hardly worth knowing No yellow star, kennkarte, or ausweis No tribal identification card Form 3078, TSA Pre(checkmark)® FEMA security clearance, TWIC card NEXUS, SENTRI, Proof of Residency USDA HSPD-12 card A Costco card – oops, failure to renew: Say, will a Barnes & Noble membership do?
0
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 7:02 PM UTC
A Shining Checkpoint on a Hill