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E Elizabeth May 2013
This was inspired by dents on the pillars
Outside the porch before it began to rain
And their smoothness and dips and mountainous valleys
And inevitable destinations and their journeys
And feeling the rain before it fell, without touch,
And today will never be another tomorrow
And fleeting, transitory roughness.

This was inspired by dents on the pillars
As the foundation sank into shifting earth,
And its progressing non-smoothness
Laced cracks through the dents,
And I rumple my fingers into each notch
And feeling without touch, too,
And I remember slipping on an unsecured brick
And slamming my head against the pillar
And roughness and pain and inevitable destinations
Like hospital beds for the busted heads
And hallways for the churning stomachs.

The dents are molding from the rain
And yellowing with the oil from my fingertips
And I haven’t moved my hand in five years,
And the valleys are so deep now that I see flames dancing in the depths
But is the world so complex as that
Or is it simply same outcomes and same purposes
In an infinite score of time passing
And seven billion dents across an ornate pillar
That stands with so much pride
But feels hollow to me, is hollow.

I wish to feel each indentation
When feeling without touch won’t suffice,
But I haven’t moved my hand in 500 years
And this poem is about dents,
But it was only inspired by the honesty of them
Because it’s really about roughness and valleys
And oily finger swirls and inevitability and unsecured sameness
And the pillars keep sinking into themselves
And the dents are folding into the cracks
And I can no longer touch them with feeling.

There are smudges on your cheeks from my finger touches
And dents on your heartbeat from trying to keep mine in time to yours
And mountains in your mind that I fell for in the first place
And everything is transitory
And this poem is about the days you sought the pillars in my skull
And the night they began to sink into themselves
So that neither of us can reach them now.

There are dents on the pillars,
And it has begun to rain,
And you’ve curled miles into the folds of transitory time-passing
As if we were inspired by the dents, too.
a friend wrote a poem called "dents" and i used many of his words in shaping this one
an0nym0us Feb 2018
An angel, fair and pure
Who's heart is fragile and unsecured
Stolen and hurt with no cure
Wounded with hidden clue.

Great pain and sorrow
But tears doesn't follow
Nothing is inside her, a hollow
Now her past follows.

All because of a man
Who she loved and obeyed every command
Gifted him happiness that lasts
Left her with her heart in his hand.

How rude, how unfair
But I give you a dare
Give her eyes a good stare
Then tell me if you ever care...

You can say "how ungrateful he can be?!"
But I tell you, how blind can you be??
If you can't see,
Till this time you read me.
Purvi Gadia Nov 2014
There is a FURIOUS storm knocking at my door.
The wind is HOWLING LOUDER than the wolves.
Trees trying VERY hard to fight against the strong winds and at least, kneel on their knees.
Everything unsecured is swirling around....

There is a sense of fear everywhere.
I can hear glasses SHATTER....
Things falling and slamming to the ground.

I suddenly start shivering or is it shaking.
Is it the ground below me that's moving
or me, who is trembling with fear????

It's the next day.
Everything has calmed down or so it looks.
Indeed... The city IS silent.
It has plunged into darkness.... I can no longer hear the taps go sushhh or the trees swish.
Vizag has become an eerie land, as if it has been cursed,
with all its leaves attracted by gravity and roots gazing at the sky.
The once lush green roads, can no longer be recognized.
All the modern facades made of glass, have been destroyed.
Even my friend, the phone, has left me.
Instead of walking on a cemented road, I walk on a carpet of glass, leaves and branches.

All this aside, what worries me is the 1000's of trees we have lost.
Will I ever again feel the refreshing breeze the trees exhale, when I open my window?
Will the FUTURE, have oxygen in the air or will it be in bottles to breathe????
*This poem is about the cyclone in my city and the cyclone was just how I described in this poem.
The answer to the question in the third para is: it was the bed that was shaking because of the strong winds*
Steve Page Mar 2019
Settle down please.
Today you will be trained in Level 1 crucifixion.

First, the nail. Please pass the bag along once you have taken one nail each.

You can rely on these nails.
Each one is forged by hand, hammered out and shaped with skill.
'You can nail it with one nail,' as they say.

Nails can be used to fasten almost anything to wood. Choosing the right nail for the job can make a big difference in hold power. As there is no need to conceal the nail head and we require maximum holding power, we have chosen common nails for the job. When the nail is temporary and will be pulled out again, as with crucifixion work, we have found that a double-headed or duplex nail is the best choice. However, due to cut backs, we have reverted to the common flat headed nail.

Experience and common practice calls for driving the nail through the thinner limb into the thicker timber. For maximum holding power, the length of the nail is such that it passes almost, but not quite, through the thicker timber. 

Take a careful look at the illustrations provided. As depicted, for best results lay the condemned on the crossbeam and bind the arms in place on the timber before nailing. I refer you to your ropes and knots training last week.

One nail is sufficient for each upper limb if placed between the forearm bones above the wrist. You will find that some limbs will have been subject to a break beforehand. If this is the case, we advise that you use additional rope to bind the limb to the cross beam and that you select a site for the nail further up the arm if necessary.

Now you are ready to secure the feet. Place the feet together one over the other. Hold them in place while a colleague drives one nail through both feet. Please hold them steady and resist any attempt by the condemned to frustrate your task. Keep steady pressure on the feet while your colleague hammers the nail home.

Before lifting the crixiform into the hollow, ensure each nail has been driven in securely. Once you and your supervisor are satisfied, lift the cruciform in one swift movement ensuring the base slides neatly into the hollow. Two or possibly three of you are needed for this.

This is the greatest test for your handiwork. The impact of the timber landing at the base of the hollow will cause the body to jar under its own weight and place additional strain on the nail. In the event that a nail comes loose, you are advised to lift the cruxiform out and to use a second nail on the unsecured limb.

In most cases this will not be necessary and the condemned will hang securely long enough to allow the body to die, even if this takes several days.

Once death has been confirmed using the accepted method, lift the cruxiform down, remove the nails and inspect them for damage. If deemed reusable, rinse and dry them before storage.

If there are no questions you will now each be assigned to an experienced colleague to assist with a crucifixion. If at any time you feel that you are likely to *****, please use the bucket provided. There's no shame in this, the first time can be quite shocking; there is usually more blood flow than you initially expect. However, you will soon learn how to complete the exercise with skill and professionalism. I have complete faith in you.

Please keep your nail, you'll need it later.
Easter ain't pretty.
Lily von Rider Dec 2011
In a world of laughter
I was apart of at a time
Now glides with sadness
As the refugees shine
And there in the darkness
I can see someone's face
Wholesome with fear
In deliberate disgrace

Find the world's end
And summon the flees
Through the fires and cries
Lies this appealing disease
Of rotten flesh
And from human, to be born
Crucified, embodied, concealed
And still so adorn

Notify the states
Address them assured
To be swept with the scars
In a world unsecured
With the memories of a beast
White flesh and teeth
In written disconcert
And so, whom would I bequeath?

Of decayed discontent
In a black path of a rose filled garden
Hides the wishes of a ******
Broken by the pervading Janardhan
And where the blood may spill
I may not be for real
And in this nightmare I place myself
But where I stand my eyes congeal

Broken faces, smiles depart
So much love, ruled by lust
So much hate, driven by anger
Asphyxiate my disgust
My repel of this utter evil
Where a ****** proclaims
The absence of virtues
And the murderer of William James

For the only unseen
And the utterly disturbed
Comes a vision alive
And they're truly perturbed
Where their own flesh dilapidate
With their minds running amuck
And at everyone they will berate

And in my cage of silent betrayal
I will commence to cleanse my soul
My solid trust, broken, forever damaged
I can only hope for extol
And yet my own deceit
Will lead me to my fall
I still await this day
And truly bury my appall
Lis Jun 2012
Defeat is a victory
Tried but unsecured
Savored but destroyed
Clear the way and fight for what you believe
Courage is the best to conquer victory
Many are lost but not in vain
Men and women work together to
Fight for their country
With bullet proof bravery.
shireliiy Nov 2015
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Brooksimus Aug 2012
To see a dwindling tree in the forest
is not to know its bleakest
but to know its earnest

The decay is shown outwardly as despair
by means of deforested ensnare
Forlornness seems its welfare

Externally the forest is declared undeserved eternally
Beauty is unsecured directly
And hope comes seldomly

Whole,
is a forest,
alive as a unit
Spaciousness is created with the tree's covet
Restored are the longing of nutrients
in a sacrificed facet
Pax Aug 2023
All I want was a shelter to feel comfortable with.
A warmth that you felt safe.
Trust for mutual understanding.
  And the pleasure you fully pledge to.  
  
    Seems like loving someone at this age makes us feel unsafe and unsecured, and mostly – at times, temporary.
It's been long.....
Marshal Gebbie Nov 2011
Resultant from years of financial haggling
The Money Boys come to the fore
Capitalizing on predatory trading
Manipulating for profits galore.
Leveraged stocks and debt obligation
advantage producing high dividend yield,
Squeezing the borrowers mortgage commitment,
Showing the hopeless the foreclosure field.
Passionless people with passionless faces
Smiling with fathomless eyes at your plight,
Knowing that if foreclosure is pending
Return on the sale will turn out all right.

Inflationary pressures are gradually worsening
Our Treasury man is flexing his arm
He’s keeping a close eye on monetary policy
Holding the cash rate to stop fiscal harm.
Upside and downsides defy expectation,
Rampantly wobbling the real estate boom,
Uncertainties globally, holding to ransom,
That American sub prime must remedy soon.

The high Government spending and big dairy pay outs
The rocketing prices of everyday stuff
Ridiculous rules for control of emissions
And fiscal expansion that’s really too tough.
Domestic inflation is making it harder
The Treasurer’s threatening to hike it this year
Persistent uncertainties running quite rampant
And our money communities sniffing the air.

Do you have faith in the bank institution?
Do you trust them with all of your funds?
In the event of collapse do you think you’ll be honoured
With return of deposits in full total sum?
Not on your Nellie my fine young depositor
An unsecured creditor fellow are you,
You go to the back of the line if there’s failure
You’re hung high and dry at the end of the queue.
You can yell and complain till the sun sets my friend
Compose all the letters you like to the judge.
But the fact of the matter in Money Men chatter
Means IT’S LEGAL and ON THIS OUR STATE WILL NOT BUDGE!

So the money boys win, never mind about justice
Causing division right here on our plate.
There’s the rich and the poor, the haves and the have nots
Social corrosion in wealth based hate.

Extrapolate out and you witness this worldwide
The fabulous West and the destitute poor,
The pina coladas and Chevrolet excess
Thin starving kids on dirt African floors.
Indulgent young starlets with ******* teasers
Black Ethiopian mothers in rags.
The fat and the frivolous gorging on beefsteak
Filthy and homeless men begging for ****.

When you bring it all back it’s a fraudulent system
Where the money men cause a division in man
Instead of devising a planet of sharing
They grab and they gouge and they keep all they can.
The God of GET is worshipped widely,  Egocentric, selfish man
Tomorrows future hangs in the balance.
…WOULD YOU LAY ODDS ON GETS’ GREAT PLAN ?


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
25 January 2008


  

© 2011 Marshal Gebbie
Bob B Nov 2018
One thing we know about Trump is that
Whenever he criticizes someone,
It's often for something that he himself
Does or previously has done.

When he campaigned, he criticized
Obama for golfing. Such a crime!
Now that he's the president,
Trump is golfing all the time!

He blasted Obama for lack of transparency
And accused him of being feckless.
Trump's own transparency comes
To light only because he's so reckless.

Trump says the media should
Be less hostile and model civility.
Then he attacks the press and others
And carries it out with utmost hostility.

Our national security:
An issue to Trump, yet now it's known
How much the hypocritical man
Loves to use his unsecured phone.

Hillary's emails were often a target
Before and even since the election.
Trump's fake concern and constant
Complaints: examples of his projection.

Emails are now in the news again.
This time daughter Ivanka is using
Her private email account for government
Business! Isn't that amusing?

Oh, you hypocrites! You act as though
For you the rules do not apply.
But if there's any justice at all,
You'll get yours by and by.

-by Bob B (11-20-18)
a relationship is for two but when another gets involved,
that's not what causes the impairment and pain.
what hurts is knowing you weren't enough to sustain.
what hurts is seeing them smile even in the face of their ***** deeds.
what hurts is realizing how naive you were,
succumbing to tears conveying false remorse.
what hurts is not knowing whether or not it was even real.
what hurts is realizing that what you cherished and loved is no longer yours
...for their lips,
are now stained with sins
and their heart,
now unsecured and ready for another.

what doesn't hurt,
is knowing that even though
not with you,
they've found *happiness.
You always carry that golden baseball bat every day,
(and my glass chest will always be unsecured.)
And every day, you would swing that bat gracefully
into a velocity crashing against the invisible wall
of the wind—
                       —crashing against my glass chest
                          (and the shards just drop like rain drops).

All of this—
     just so you can steal my gemstone heart…

(and my mouth will flutter like a butterfly’s wings
to my everyday response:

                                         again?)
jia Feb 2021
"do you love me?" i asked with utmost uncertainty
he looked at me as he said, "sometimes."
unsettled, unsecured and in limbo, "no guarantee."
he repeated, "no guarantee... at all times."
Paul Roberts Apr 2012
The gentle wind whips the unsecured haylard along the abandoned flag pole,
overwatching the once busy parade field, now overgrown.
Here we stood, starched and shined, rows and rows and rows,
waiting for that final command, " Pass in review," oh so long ago.
The haylard, now rusting away,
used to be secured, twice, each and every day.
Like the the empty parade field, the soldiers there have come and gone,
and as if the haylard could sing a song, when will they all come home?
Unsecured mind-set lashes its core, choosing to ally itself to that of no concern or thought. All sequence we shall herald as noble backlash. Blame shall rest with death of the innocent, for this is where excuse can be rectified Or rather that of fraudulent justification laid before another’s feet.

Insight to rise as we rise to insight, no notice shall be given and no action shall not be undertaken. Vandalisms recruitment takes it course. Internet conscription courses silently through hardy flex. Telecommunications providers enlisted to contrive location as we plan Google’s map attack.

The aim is that of procurement, not for freedom or righteousness, rather that of avarice and self contentment. We shall shop till we drop this eve and at much better than discounted prices. Personal retributions shall also conceal themselves beneath this direst of banner.

Filthy alignments will almost with abandonment unite in evil cohesion. Mass attack at fragmented locations will oppress any and all endeavours to quell this foulest of foul. He who hide his face away is free to loot another day, this seems the lyrical trend that thief and sinner does take this night .

Untold expectance by unlawful propagator is of a world that owes, favours him above others. He feels righteous that he should prevail in this life before his fellow man. It is of no concern to him that others may have more worthy an approach. It matters not what they may suffer.

If for no other reason to doubt he who professes to have nothing, to be cast out by the state and therefore be free to invoke retribution, why should he with nought, cast dereliction in his own manor? Why destroy what you have not got? Why condemn yourself to live in an unliveable state?

Such misdemeanour unto ones self is surely call for psychiatric assessment and asylums involvement? Here now stands a creature pursed to explicate erroneous act for appropriate content and expect audience to quell their disgust and rapturously give applause. I think not.

For not only did thievery portray itself on our streets this and other nights that followed, also violence, arson and ****** were carried along with it, like a leaf in the wind. Families lost what they had so long worked and strived to gain, watching helplessly as combustion condemned their habitat to broken ash.

****** drew its breath on more than a single occasion. Is this the result of political unrest, that is what they would want us to pronounce, to show reason that this is against the masses, such excuse may then be strewn as a just intention.

This is not the reality though in this case it is a the likely truth that rat endeavoured to crawl above ground and spread its pox amongst us, infecting devastation on good peoples lives as it did in centuries past.
17th  September 2011
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2019
Overspending the bulk
  of my temporal capital

Hourly deficits climb
  and pile into notes

Debts I’ll never repay
  stored in vaults I can’t find

Words lying uncashed,
  as I write overdrawn  
  
Pledging to go back
  and re-sign what’s untendered

I’m unforgiven—overdue,
   my fate unsecured

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
Jared Eli Aug 2013
I'm fresh out of material so I guess I'll copy me
Pull out that notebook paper and begin a parody
I'v got to start with something both satiric and so nice
Like a fresh-cut rose
That only grows
In the flowerbed of our hearts

Immature ramblings from an unsecured mind
Rolling on waves of emotion like a boat of some kind
I'm so simple to copy, yet an imitation of this crap
These rhymes are ****
And just won't quit
To disappoint the audience, all
Kyle Fisher Sep 2015
Traction,
It's keeping yourself on the alloted trail,
Like a group of spikes pertruding from your hiking shoes.
Hidden underneath bleak chances to run off course,
There is traction.

Ascension,
It's the higher sense of letting go,
Like a swell from the waters of slightly unsecured mentality.
Stationed right above the need for grounding.
There is ascension.

Illumination,
It's the spurt of clarity, intense maturity,
Like a smith of fine silver, molding his first ring.
Seeing what might be, and generating the material.
There is illumination.

Perfection,
Its understanding the material is but a spec of truth.
Like something without beginning,.. without end.
Immortal, appearing mortal,
But, sincerely niether
There is perfection.

That is what you are.
I am.
©Kyle Fisher
Arcassin B May 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

Sometimes you get me in a crazy position to where I feel unsecured and triggered out of my mind,
And at times I feel as thought we don't communicate enough for you to ever tell me I'm wasting your time,
But I'll go that extra mile,
When you yell,
And you scream,
You shred all the beautiful memories of us and our picnics at sunrise park,
But something is telling me to just give up and puts all my burdens aside and yell and scream in the dark,
But I'll go the extra mile for you,
I swear it won't make it okay,
For you to blow up and act that way,
I'll gain all the eternal shade,
As long as you are not what minute made,
But I'll go that extra mile for you to stay.
Stay.
katewinslet Nov 2015
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This is definitely way up massively because of 1973 when ever 57% of property obtained one particular set in place in addition to 11% have a variety of. As due to the number of Television sets on real estate, i am blowing more hours previously monitoring these individuals. This can cause all of our commonplace pretext involving not needing sufficient time during the daytime. With the usual your home, the tv screen is normally excited with respect to eight hours, 17 a short time plus the average person is actually enjoying designed for 4 hours, 25 or so minutes. Think on the subject of some of those information to have a hour. Let's say another person informed you that they are going to offer you another 4 hours on your time of day? Wouldn’t a majority of you love to have recently a little more time to find matters undertaken?

Should you do not first start up the telly that's what you'd get. Can you loss the preferred demonstrates that allows you to start to take great yourself? Through an supplementary four hours, you would probably eventually have the time to have near to all of of such things you concept you did not have enough time to get. Most of the facts we would execute should help you decide all the way to bettering our wellbeing and partnerships. We might prepare dinner and not just receive takeout mbt online sale, attend the gym designed for A half-hour of exercising, spend more time with our children yet another beloved. Natural meats even make amends for numerous forfeited sleeping.

The next time you know someone that mobile computer will not have associated with time while in the day to get stuff finished, or that you create the justification that you do not have the to workout or perhaps eat healthy, think about where you stand really spending your moment. Do end goal to depart those great television deterred for a single evening the primary weekend and next notice what amount you possibly can accomplish mbt shoes sale.
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Blooming down in the form of triangle.
Making learners wonder why beetroot is around there
Argument take place,clean there,broom there
but scary to touch.

Sgb were called in may day situation.
Questioning the guard.
What happened but no answers were responded.

Because building were secured and unsecured because of a broken window.

Some said is the period girls
Some said maybe is a cat who was chopped by broken window.

Lingering around like fig fruits,
Ready to fall.on madiba day it became the 67 minutes of watching that miracle blood.

All we had to say was only God knows what happened and only God knows how to deal with it
Dakota J Dawson Apr 2018
P.1
The crowd sings a tune
Most dreadful
Malice

It is with steel
Cold retribution
Uneven fire

That he shall die

P.2
Formalities unsecured
Royalty disbanded

Speech said
Hostility silenced
Peace has come

P.3
A hairpiece
Eyes an unnatural shade of blue
Hands reaching for a god

Face unsure
Blade ready
Head severed

P.4
Without God
Tangible mercy
England is set free

Gold to ash
Mind to dirt
Heir to none
Matt May 2015
18 trillion dollar debt
240 trillion unfunded liabilities debt
1.5 quadrillion derivatives debt

On Nov 16, 2014
The G20 fulfilled the mandates of a new investment program
This new program creates a program
Whereby banks will no longer recognize
Your deposits as money

The deposits are unsecured deposits
Which now belong to the bank
At the moment you deposit your money

Russell Napier declared this day
As the day money died
Paul Sands Feb 2015
at 3AM the taste makes sense
your flavour gently
formless, yet;
clap inwards, roam safely now

for, two weeks gone, August died
once the sky mill's lights came crashing down
a sunless ****** ably refined by the opulent gunshot
whence your neck, once slim as a bottle's kiln poured plume,
yielded crackling splinters and a bully ragged tie

how quickly the lips of entrapment ****** your memory
the venerable address of a cruel decay, corked
and crucified over willow wrought applause

the unsecured dregs of my dreams drag themselves,
desecrated, yet still breathing, into
a barren sensibility of service
to so sadistic a cheer

you identify yourself as a counterpoint to heat
burning tissues and tighter crosses,
laid across your stretched stomach
while the flirt aperture fades to a crumbed splice

I agreed to outlive my extinction
so long as you willed a heaven fish wriggle free
from the pressed seawater and shrink my temptation

and that beast, like every other, had a treasonous heart
once it knew the single human truth, the martyrs glee for murderous poetry,
where biology cascades dominion
into the thrice strangled terror of life
Ree Bunch Apr 2016
Can’t you see me standing right here?
No worries, as long as you do what you’re told.
I whisper your tasks directly into your mind.
You complete them expertly; my work of gold.

I dabble in all of your unsecured senses.
They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.
I direct your gaze to that human over there
and love where your imaginative mind goes.

It’s time to devour deliciousness, my precious friend.
New task is to eat until your inners grieve.
Your stomach will stretch! Complete what I ask!
Have seconds, even fourths, but never say please.

How dare another human think they’re better than you?
You will shame and hate her until the end of time.
Tell everyone you’re the gift given to the world-
that you bless them daily with your beauty’s shine.

The task of lying is personally your favorite.
You lie happily with no sadness in sight.
The drama you conjure makes me so proud.
Your best lies even started a massive fight.

You wear wrath and anger so beautifully.
I make you drape them around your lovely neck.
The glow coming from it blinds logic's vision ;
with only a whisper I make your life a wreck.

We’ve been joined together for a long while now.
You chose to fulfill all of my given tasks.
Since you have died, you will travel down with me.
Your way to the light- you’ve forsaken in the past.
The Deadly Sins
jeffrey conyers Nov 2012
You can open it.
And find magical wonders.
Unlike Pandora's box filled with mysteries.
The magic box contains sweet things.

Many which will bring you sweet dreams.
That leaves you seeking more.

Within this magic box is love.
Surrounded by fantastic joy.

Reach in it.
Way down deep.
Except don't be surprised.
When you see love come alive.

No mystical hex.
No unforeseen fantasies.
Cause the box is offered freely to anyone.

Just because of the facts.
It has the power to make deams appear.
As long as you believe in the magic box.
Which unsecured without a lock.

Open it up.
Look deep within.
You'll find a key that leaves to a door.

Open it up.
And walk in.
There you will find a true soul friend.
Carolin Jun 2015
She didn't like mirrors.
They made her feel unsecured.
They only showed her scars
and stretch marks but never
the beauty of her soul. She
only saw what society didn't
like. The wrinkles the spots
the flesh covering her bones.

What about the constellations
of the stars ? What about the
stories in her eyes ? What
about the beautiful person
trapped deep down inside ?

Mirrors were slowly ruining
her dear life

She met a boy. Funny how
he changed this all.

He called her pretty when they
first met.
He saw what no one has ever
seen before.
He saw the beauty of her soul
and kissed her every scar.

Held her from behind and
kissed her neck while they both
stood exposed with no clothes
in front of the mirror hung up
on the back of his bed room
door.

He held her tight as he
said I fell in love with you girl. I
fell for the beauty of your flesh ,
soft skin and bones.

I fell in love with you all and I
just can't take my eyes off
of the beauty of you and all
the things you simply do* ~
Keith W Fletcher Feb 2017
Bound by the deceptive images
That so often march parade like
Across the blank canvas of my imagination
Daring me to post date a check on my reality
In hopes of cashing in while the exchange rate
Allows me to find interest beyond
accumulated wealth
Those invaluable moments that penetrate the soul
Destined to Forever hang just Out Of Reach
But never out of sight or out of mind

And in those flagging moments of  impassionate death
When all time and reality ceases to exist
In that momentary slice of Eternity
Where dreams go in search of validity

To find themselves bound by the deceptive images
That way way too often march parade like
Across that crowded canvas of my past
That run together like watercolor hopes
Drawn on the account made insolvent
By the voided and unsecured loan
Of all my heartfelt losses still bouncing
From cashing in that post-dated check on my reality
That left me overdrawn and broke
Louise Nov 2015
No words blurted out
Strings may be attached
Tomorrow surely unsecured
Fear comes after laughter

Still
I love the feeling
I am unsure
But for one thing
I am happy and I chose to be one
neth jones Aug 2019
In the proud of the night
(well past the community allowance of social mirth)
curfew has been ignored on mass

The town is flooded with its near full population
on the streets

A tension

Intelligence is lost in the mob formation
all tender that something is frowning
that a ‘big thing’ is about to happen

How do you speak out in this field ?
Town Cryer
An old fashioned post but still held
Professional,
he strikes out a pound against the atmosphere


Might I hold your attention Good People
Gods People may I bend your ear ?
Upon my authority
Mark my words
And
As Goodly subjects of our fare town
I ask that you return to your abodes
Account for your household
Barrier your threshold
Tend a warm hearth
And wait out this night
Praying as family
As unit bond
And union under Gods kind eye


The Cryer has given direction
Repeating to all the gatherings he comes upon

By his office he has told them to swear off

The public move
Infected by the nights vibration
Addled and inflamed
Disperse
Crowds coward together
And relax apart
Walking foal, new to footfall
Unsecured
Sparks in the dark
Unguided and untested
Weapons into the criminal night
New spawned characters
Fused
Laughing giddiots,
scolders,
prancers
Diners, not surgeons
Fledded on venoms
Sense riders

As their individual monsters grow they distance one another
They pepper
Repeating the town
Strays of mess opportunity
Few go straight home

A remattered night is made place
An unpracticed costume horror
No dress rehearsal here !
A remattered night is made
Lawrence Hall Jun 2018
Sunlit sailboats in daubs of orange and red
And mass-produced impressionist barn owls
In flight above an unsecured wire rack
Of greasy copies of Reader’s Digest

Behind the receptionist’s hole-in-the-wall
Children of the Cornbread centered in plastic
Jesus-frames grin against their will, freeze-posed
Among department-store studio trees

Across the walls some glued-on murals roam
(But at least this isn’t the funeral home)
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com – it’s not really reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Graff1980 Dec 2016
I sit observing all those strangers scurrying from events occurring during the day. Still stuck in place, I guard this space securing the most unsecured spots. In a daze I look away to see nature ruling the distant landscape.
Trees with no leaves only spindly fingers form wooden web like structures, competing for space with their sisters and brothers who sport full bodied broccoli colors. White cumulus clouds streak across a turquoise sky racing other grayer layered stratus and cirrus vapors. I long to follow, flying as fast or faster than those amorphous beauties.

My pupils contract coming back quickly so I can focus on where my attention is supposed to be. However, my mind wanders and my eyes follow. Weird humming wires bisect the skies. Gone for a moment, I force myself to return.

I hear next to nothing. My sight affirms said silence. Closer than my cloudy kin a flattop building mimics blacktop shapes and colors. Cars clutter the cigarette strewn parking surface. The gravely parking lot cracks like a fault line leaving little fractures where thin green plants perk their heads up and out, sprouting from the concrete covered earth.

Near day’s end I find my focus again. Strange reflections wobble in dark windows as employees drive in to replace their almost friends. The shift ends and I follow strangers out. The herd thins as we diverge on different streets taking our own roads home. Nature follows me back to the hotel sweet, then to sleep, and finally into my dreams.
just image what a pickle
our planet would be
in
were another virus to escape
a labratory's unsecured
tin    

the one that is presently
circulating around the
globe  
sure has caused much ruin
within our world's
lobe

these labratories need
a thorough
investigation
so as the diseases they house
don't affect any
nation

in some countries the use of
bioweapons are
condoned
and the experimentation  
has been proficiently
honed

it is a frightening prospect
that's playing out in real
time
what airborne contagions
maybe aimed to
begrime

— The End —