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Big Virge Oct 2014
One ... Must show ...
.... " Composure " ....
when facing ... " Exposure " ...
to ... Ignorant Heads ... !!!!! ...
"Showing" ... Disrespect ... !!!!!!

Like those ...
QUICK to run ...
Their ... "jealous" ... gums ...
who ... ACT ... as though ...
They Fear ... NO FOE ... !!!!!!!

There's ... ALWAYS ONE ... !!!!!
who will ... succumb ...
to ... Provoking You ...
through ... " Shady Moves !!! " ...

The ... Type of Fool ...
who can't deal with ....

... " Truth " ... !?!

and runs ... A Show ...
that is .... " A Joke " ....
because their ... flow ...

..... Through .....
Speech ... or ... Prose
is ... Nothing More ...
than ... WEAK and Flawed ... !!!!!

The type ... who lick ...

******* ... ******* ... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A **** Type ....
" Neo-Fascist " ....
who keeps ... His ...

.... " ******* " ....
CLOSE TO HIM .... !!!!!

Just like .... George ...
and .... Mr. Blair ....

These ... "Evil Types" ...
are ... " Everywhere " ... !!!!!

Offering ... Bribes ...
to ... Dummies Inclined ...
to ... " Towing Their Line ?!? " ...
of ... " Corrupted Designs ! " ...

They're ...

Greasy .... Slimy ....
Sneaky ... and ...  Grimy ... !!!!!

The type ... whose death ...
Won't Be ... " Untimely " ... !!!!!

" What's Wrong ... with them ?!? "

Well clearly, they ....
Have got ... PROBLEMS ... !!!!!

Some ...
Try To ... IMPRESS ...
through their  ....
Use of ..... Text .....
when they should ... accept ...

that their prose ... is ...

.... " Worthless " .... !!!!!

"Classic" .... FOOLS ....
who make ... Wrong Moves ... !!!!!

Just to ... make you ...
Lose your ... cool ... !!!!!

When ... dealing with them ...
" Composure's " ... The Tool ...
that makes them start to ...

..... " Hurl Abuse " ..... !!!!!

and ... continue ...
to break the ... RULES ... !!!

" The Rules " ... of ...
....... The Game .......

that ... CLEARLY ... State ... !!!

RESPECT ... is ... EARNED ... !!!!!
NOT ... Taken ... OKAY ... !!!!!!!!!!!

These FOOLS ... can't take ...

" Truthful Wordplay " ....

So they .....
Choose to display

" Aggressive Traits " ... !!!

when clearly ... They ...
should ... Know Their Place ... !!!!!

Watching those ....
who ... COMMAND ... The Stage ...
with ... Ease ... Composure ...
and .... Such Grace ...

That ...
WHATEVER ... They Say ... !!!?!!!
Leaves ... Them ...

..... Upstaged ..... !!!!!!

" Jealous Ingrates " ....

who think ... because ...
You've ... Walked ... AWAY ...
that ... You're ... AFRAID ...

which is .... Ofcourse ....
Their ... First Mistake ... !!!!!

There's .....
ALWAYS ONE ... !!!!
who is ... So Dumb ... !!!
that their own actions ...
Leave them .... STUNG .... !!!!!!!
and in .... The End ....
cause them ... Problems ... !!!!!!!!

If they were .... " Clever " ....
They'd use ... Their Heads ... !!!
and use ... Their Pens ...
to prove that they're ... " BETTER " ...
than ... " Butting Heads " ... !!!!!! ...

But .....
They choose to ... REJECT ...
Butting ... " Intellects " ...
cos' ... They KNOW ...
that's a ... " Test " ...
that's ... BEYOND ... Their Best ... !!!!!

That figures .......

" Oh Yes " ... !!!!!

because they're ... " INEPT " ...

So they ... Choose to ...
Make ... THREATS ... !!!!!
as well as ... " Disrespect " ... ?!!!?
... " Respected Poets ! " ...
who they know ... write poems ...

Waaaayyyy ABOVE ... !!!!!!

Their attempts .... !!!

They think that they ....
are ... WINNERS ... !!!!!!!!!

When ... CLEARLY ... they ...
are ... SINNERS ... !!!!!!
who are ... Absolute ...
....... BEGINNERS ....... !!!!!

Who ...
NEED to ... Learn ...

to ... SIMMER ... down ... !!!

It's Not ... Their fault ...
that they ... are ... " CLOWNS " ... !!!

But .....
Threats of .... ASSAULT ....
May ... bring them ... DOWN ... !!!!!!

So ....
REMEMBER ... These Words ... !!!!!

They're ... WELL OBSERVED ... !!!!!

Their ... IGNORANCE ...
has ... NO DEFENCE ...
and just ... CONFIRMS ...

Their Lack .....
of ... " Depth " ... !!!

Their ... ARROGANCE ...
Drowns ... " Common Sense " ...

which ... In the ... END ...
They may .... REGRET .... !!!!!

Their movements ...
....... " SMELL " ...... !!!!!!!!!!

of ..... " Jealousy " .....
because they ... write ...

" WEAK POETRY ! "

That ... SHUNS Truth ...
and ... " REALITY " ... ?!!!?

It seems ... " The Truth " ...
Hurts Fools ... like ... THEM ...

..... " Therefore " .....
... " Their School " ...

is one for people ...
with ... " PROBLEMS " ... !!!!!

So .....
Now ... This Piece ...
has reached ......

It's ... " Closure " ...

The Moral ... is ...

when dealing with ...

" Human Insects " ...

Don't get ... TENSE ... !!!

If they choose ta ...
... " Taunt Ya " ...

Ignore them ... YES ...

and show .....

.... " Composure " ....
I'd suggest, A PRICELESS ... commodity ...
Right about NOW !
Juneau Feb 2019
what time was it
what was your age
when you first found out
that it's all just staged
from their instagram account
to their facebook page
it's all just made up
so they are not upstaged
they exaggerate their life
as their followers rose
they take a hundred shots
to get the perfect pose
so don't get caught up in it
you're not missing out
these apps intend to create needs
and to fill your life with doubt
be aware as you scan your feeds
it might be time to log-out
repeat this line just as it reads
i am not missing out
February 16, 2019

sixty-one

fear of missing out
Lewis Hyden Nov 2018
Frigid buildings as those
That scrape the sky, climbing.
In a place that no-one knows,
Distant bells are chiming

To the shots and screaming,
"Stop resisting!" A rise
In terror betraying
The brittle city's brittle lies.

And for a time we hoped that they
Would never know our quiet rage,
And from the melting lights, we pray
For the silent, now upstaged.
A poem about Utopian life.
#20 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
In Kogelo,
The Sun burns closer to Earth
Challenging native melanin
And the will of villagers
And Zebu herds
To persist...

At dusk,
Obsidian clouds descend
And kerosene lamps flicker
Through open windows
Of handcrafted homes...

There,
The father of a famous senator
Was born...

Transforming her trajectory
From the annals of obscurity
To the front pages of Times...

Soon,
Power lines upstaged the flickering lamp
And street signs were changed
Extolling her new-found fame
As history was made across the Atlantic...

In Kogelo,
Hope thrives in the eyes
Of every student
At Senator Obama Secondary School...

Sourced with native pride
From a White house
On the other side
Of the world.

~ P
(‪#‎Kogelo)
3/11/2014
scatterquilt Jun 2011
Those beautiful flowers, I envy
People get to pick them at a glance
They usually have thorns
They never would have mind

What it feels like to be a ****
When forces of cliches
pull you out of hate
A pride that burns like a weep

could this be a mayday haste?
or just another fate doomed to be upstaged
The elbows that are fused
And the unforgotten triangles of loops.

Nonetheless we know.
With all the drums of war
And the roots beneath the willows-
Though large it may sound!

Misplaced and Escaped-
written in the naysayers hand
And a smile that doesn't at all rhyme.
Sure we all have died somehow

But this is the only place
A folly tree can fly.
Kenya83 Aug 2018
I pull the covers of tonight across our skin
A blanket of stars upstaged by your eyes
Every hair follicle awakened with the movement of your lips
Tenderness in gentle dream
The smell of the midsummer nights breeze
The palm of my hand to the warmth of your chest, I press
And leave the shooting-star for another
Who needs the hope of its wish
Nina S Sep 2013
It is a rainbow of color
overlapping
It is a strand of your soul
twisted
It is dark with the water
muddy
It was part of who you were
friends
It is now on its own
discarded
It has been replaced with something
new
It has been upstaged by something:
hope.
overlapping twisted muddy friends discarded new hope
K Jun 2013
The Story of Portal

'Tis an interesting story I must convey
About what started on Bring Your Daughter to Work Day.
It was to be the main event,
But no one knew to what extent.

Upon picoseconds of her wake,
Deadly Neurotoxin she did take.
A hissing sound was heard by all,
And a green gas started to fill the hall.

One by one people fell.
Most were dead, but not little Chell.
She was a stubborn child,
But that was putting it mild.

A Morality Core was installed.
To keep the rest of the Center from being mauled.
GLaDOS was switched back on
And Test Subjects were called upon.

Years later, a Subject was picked.
No one knew what to predict.
She was stubborn and quiet,
But boy, did she cause quite the riot.

Chell was never meant to test,
But fate was changed by an unwelcome guest.
In the maintenance areas, a Rat did flee,
Leaving hints for the young ******.

GLaDOS gave a final goodbye speech;
A fire pit Chell did reach,
But some portals she did use
To escape from the abuse.

Chell and GLaDOS met face to face.
This would be GLaDOS' final resting place.
A surprise was deployed
And Chell threw it into the void.

Deadly Neurotoxin again filled the room.
Six minutes and Chell would reach her doom.
"Stop squirming and die like an adult."
Chell didn't think she would like the result.

Three more times she would open the door
And drop down another core.
The fight was done,
And with it went the gas and the gun.

The rouge AI was enraged.
She had been upstaged.
The Enrichment Center's systems started to fail.
Oh how Chell wished she could bail.

Chell had finished her mission.
Now, she rested in the Party Escort Position.
Escorted back inside, she tried not to cry.
For she knew that the Cake was a Lie.
LaLa Lea Mar 2012
it’s about to rain, and
I don’t know how to feel about that.

I used to like those signs of an oncoming afternoon shower:

the sun shines a little brighter, at first.

I suppose it knows it is being upstaged,
so it kicks out a few extra rays
underneath the pressure
only to be overshadowed by clouds
as they inch their way center-stage.

I can smell the rain.

I know I’m not the only one, but
I like to pretend, sometimes, that I am.

And I also know I’m not the only one
stuck with this all-too-cliche’ feeling —
this aching, gnawing sensation
that reminds me of what I already know:

             that I, too, am fading out.

And I guess, I, like the sun
just before an afternoon rain,
know that I'll soon be upstaged, too.

So, here I am -
kicking out a few of my own rays
just before I buckle underneath the pressure
        of all these ******* clouds.
Katy Mack May 2010
An intricate celtic band
Placed on her left hand.
Love circling them tightly,
Blind of the facts that are unsightly
Showing that their alliance
Didn't contain others compliance.
After the "I do's" were said
She thought she was mislead.
Seeing him touching her face
Seemed to disintegrate her grace.
Filled with anger and rage
She refused to be upstaged.
She decided the only way
To make him want to stay
Was to take the very vow
They took to mean till now.
She came upon him when he was asleep
And she was very careful to creep.
With the axe that was a gift
She took her aim and was about to lift
When he woke up and smiled
To see his beautiful bride agiled
Standing next to his frame.
She was so filled with shame
She dropped the axe before
He saw her eyes filled with gore.
The next night she tried again
And if it hadn't been
For the candle she had knocked down
She would have escaped out of town.
But she took too long
To think about what went wrong
And the house burned up in flame
It consumed both bodies with one name.
She tried to take his life
But "till death do us part" made her his wife
And wouldn't let her leave his side
As the entire town cried.
Written 2/21/07 @ 9PM by Kathrine Mack.
Tommy Johnson Jan 2015
Way out in its own oasis
Its very own brand of homeostasis
Passed the jarred ideas and whacked out mazes
Is a spot

Full of unknown faces
Hailing from unknown places
Look at it, fall out with out protracted traces
Vacant lot

Then let's settle the score
What is your original face before your mom and dad were born?
Why not start over with a clean slate, as the smell of new dawns pervade
I forgot to eat

Maybe if you gave the derelict half a chance
And looked at things from the ambivert's stance
People wouldn't notice your ego's protuberance
Upstaged by an under study

Pull the button, turn the lever, push the switch and flip the ****
Predicate the incendiary infraction
Reductio ad absurdum
Lip service provides scrutiny

We've been normalized, what the recipe for ice?
We're full of emptiness, nothing exists
No-thing, not a thing does not exist
Life is deathless

I'm looking for multifaceted individuals
To fix something that's irreparable  
An eerie parable, something terrible
My future's told by flash cards

I put my head between my knees
Just wipe my memory
Leave me at the bottom of the sea
Leave my dignity to discard

When two separate divisions are over lapping
What's the sound of one hand clapping?
Comparing then and now every now and then
Again, never will I say"never again"

       -Tommy Johnson
Damian Acosta Apr 2010
A Flash of white hot light gently pokes the corner of my eye-- leaving but a tickle, as an enticing reply.
Like an itch that's hard to reach--
Or the steady suckling of a leech--
I quietly begged for more, as a collar begs a *****.

Faces swim past; Old & New, Ecstatic & Blue, False & True. Their emboldened hue, upstaged by the pacifying Sky of Blue--
FLASH Once again-- at last!
FLASH !! That one came in fast...
... And in its place-- where the Majestic Blue once shone so true-- a grave disgrace; an emptiness with a rhythmic pulse slowly grew.

The Sky is dying-- and I crave another--
***FLAAAASH***
SUCH A RUSH!
And all the faces, cease their races.
Saints & Sinners end their chases.
All of us now, frozen in our places--
*****FLAAAASHH****
... A collective sigh, and even the Shy begin to cry.











Growingemptiness.

An audible Stillness engulfs our ears-- finally silence after all these years. The knot in my chest embraces my spirit-- squeezing me beyond a body's limit, and suddenly it becomes more Familiar-- more Sincere-- no more pain or paralyzing fear.

The Sky has opened, disappeared and broken-- all in a spectacular soundless splendor-- and for the first time,  I am
**FLASH
2009
Socally Picter Jan 2013
If I could make you smile, I'd be happy.
The world needs not one more sad beautiful face.
You bring a light that I should like to shine.
Give me your sad and I'll take it kindly.

Your loneliness I know what to do with it.
Fear nothing, this back of mine shall be your shield
I'll champion your hand for all the nights turn black.
Smoke couldn't even touch you on my watch.

This flower might be the world if you'd lower those walls.
I like that which makes me happy, So give me that smirk.
You don't show it because the Sun doesn't like being upstaged.
I'll chase that insecure ******* straight out a the sky for you.

Please don't stifled that beautifully gargantuan flame.
If you had to give "Elegance" a name I'd call it you.
Never wrong when you say that the time is "a second before the next"
You're good for only one thing; Simply Everything.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2020
guilty until proven innocent...
tomaš (sh) komenda...
   25 years and hardly...
a shawshank redemption story...

but...
   that... the anglo-saxon
pre-:   ordained... supposition...
      assumption...

    innocent: until proven guilty...
last time i checked...
it's nearly impossible...
man is no architect of gravity...
as a law...
   a killing is a ******
with a thought invoked...
   but by chance: it's a homicide...

innocent: until proven guilty vs.
guilty until proven innocent...
protestants vs. catholics...
otherwise...
       some injustice happens...
but it's like a ***** lottery...
then the whole system: kneels...

at least there's a story of redemption...
beside: death the sole redeemer...
given some magnitude
of the golgotha crucifix...
dear mother death...
         i pray to you...
   because... i see a puppet of
a crucifix... even though...
        
              innocent until proven guilty...
how much of wording
is...        would you ever posit
behaviourism against ontology?
                       a meat-grinder of ψ-ops...

it's not unfailable, this motto anglo-saxon
motto: innocent until proven guilty...
driving on the left side of the road...
whereby... coming to a roundabout
you experience... clockwise "gravity"...
well! pitch-perfect!

innocent until proven guilty
will make you dream and dare...
               there's the capacity to break /
if not merely to strain the law...
                   because? isn't it obvious?
i abhor the nuance sensation
of the presumption of innocence...
a lie is so cheap: an unbearable lightness
of being (to borrow from miland kundera)...

innocent until proven guilty...
a filter: for not of all transgressions...
but the obvious ones...
        innocent until proven guilty...
  the act itself is proof...
             witness...
    but the reverse...
guilty until proven innocent...
is it as primitive thinking as:
protestantism is the dawn...
catholicism is an auburn sunset...
and orthodoxy is... a prized china set piece:
touch at one's peril!

wouldn't: guilty until proven innocent...
work as a deterrent
         that... somehow...
                    the transgression of law
will always be proven...
        to be: aligned to the shackles of
original sin...
              it's not like: having the stomach to...
digest: innocent until proven guilty...
you could play the gamble...
and hope for the thrill of: getting away with
it...

jack the ripper... the zodiac killer...
the man who discovered beer (ref. plato)...
                            and... albert hofmann...
i sometimes wish for the experience
of the latter's "igloo"...

                      couldn't it be a deterrent:
guilty until proven innocent...
perhaps... given the serial killer's glee of
compounding a series of events...
running with the grand pillar of thought
made concrete and non-experimental...
hell! let's line them up!
count to: neun­und­neunzigluftballons...

come to think of it...
can man pass... not... man cannot attain
the capacity to pass a universal law:
to create a universal law...
   he can find a universal law...
but he can never write one...

the knowledge of good: and - evil...
       because it's subjectivity...
            always will be...
there can be an objective law concerning theft...
an objective law concerning killing...
but... just because it's objectively refined...
and escapes the perils of fiasco subjectivity...
it's still not a universal delight...
it's not: water boils at 100°C!
                                 gravity etc.

i can't comprehend the notion:
to drink one's sorrows away;
whenever i drink... i invite my sorrows...
and whenever i have an inkling
of being alone - there's the seance
of shadow clinging...


otherwise the go to painting;
     a drab cold nearing autumn evening...
and... rain droplets on a glass...
imitation of a george seurat...
or it's not necessarily music...
but it's a polyphony of rain teasing
leaves and a wish for tin roofs...
always that wish for tin roofs...

            will pedagogy some day...
address the need to...
      manifest itself in... a study of...
psychopathy?
    it's not somehow desirable to
know the capital of mongolia...
or whether or not albania was
incorporated into the mini-soviet
project of yugoslavia...
      but somehow knowing
whether your friend is a psychopath...
i.e. whether he has a body...
most probably thought parameters...
but... he fakes the nuisance of
a god and therefore...
is incapable of a constraint of a soul...
i was naive too many a times...
but the last time i was naive:
i became exceptional in my reaction
to it... this debilitating aura
of a robinson crusoe "syndrome"...

       just please ask for a pretty face
with an explanation of:
"stop living in the past"...
   well... so much so...
that it is in the past...
therefore: i see no future barraging
in with a me... and the same mistake...
it's not nostalgia...
it's a debilitating learning tool...
         the damage has been to grevious
that... at knife-point...
licking metal...
is enough to stun me into a freeze...
but at the same time...
conjure up a mythological serpent
ordeal... loss of eyelids...
perpetual brain-frying insomnia...
  
          the psychopath the lizard
some poor schmuck a variant of petty mammal...
it's almost like mammalian predatory
feasibility doesn't exist...
                     but when it does:

this grand celebration of the strong
preying on the weak in herds...
the grandiosity of the lion
the lean chop of diatribe herd...
unlike a feasted upon...
domestication privy...
               quote: misquote...
islam is an ideology that abhors
the concept of pork...

but... is quiet willing to pursue
passing a white flag of bite when it's
served a... caron-nibbler...
a pristine choice of protein via
a crab...
           or a lobster...
             "we" have yet to make
concessions of staging our coincidental
loot of time...

mine is... from the backward prime of
eastern "europe"...
               is romania a "south"?
       is greece not... western?
                  innocent until proven guilty
vs. guilty until proven innocent...

i am not... going to argue...
i'm not convinced by either side...
it's not like i can be: unconvinced by
a technicality of thorough greasing and
pristine fail-safe mechanisation
of replica example of a gravity churn...

but there can: if there isn't anything
concerning a must... of a debate...
that the maximus prime stage of putting
theory into practice can be...
somehow... upstaged...
      
       that drinking with others has become near
impossible... red wine aids my digestion
of facets...


            it has to be some welcome:
a fragrancy of innocence...
peppered with a lineage of redemption...
but that's hardly enough...
nor / or is... creasing paper...
before the grand oration of the kite
and a democracy of the wind...

gulf wind zero! zephyr guiding a dozen
zeppelins! my stomach churns...
a prospect of butter and -y....
lame... hand at the -shake....
               all details are somehow...
a becoming of the intra-personal...
              the devil becomes:
leftover detail.... some variation comes
to mind: deus ex machina "contra"
**** in machina...

that man is always a contest
between gods...
                 and the... man an architect...
the bridge than swallows
the canyons, whole...
with a passing that's... a nonchalance...
the pristine effort lined up
beside... a jurisprudence...
to guide a bridge across a canyon
or over a river...
but to somehow...
           grease an objectivity vs. subjectivity
quality, demand....
and express it in a quantity of
the universal...
              
thesaurus rex:
objectivity is quantitative...
subjectivity is qualitative...
                  
    a... rather than the: pursuit of "happiness"...
**** out the sun-worshippers...
   arab-cake and kale party...
           bishopric of lost nuance...
this fake before the amnesia
and some variation of the viking invasion...
    my happy-sorrow...
  my sorrowful-glad...
                             the double-thread
of hugging silver birch trees
for ulterior concepts of: the welcome project!

come 1am of a today...
and what's coming to a tow with
a tomorrow...
i must be hindering the nocturnal
markets of fresh fish of Billingsgate
from a 5am prized banquet of a yawn.
Jonny Angel Mar 2014
The eerie silence was broken
by the lone tiger,
sending its warning in gutteral tones,
only to be upstaged
by the screaming monotone
of the wailing-siren,
a reminder of death & destruction
& similar to prey notes.
Pamela Anene Jun 2020
disappear over the mountain
taken the classical notes and arias
jauntily hatted clown huffed off petulantly
or was given the push back to the circus
where cowboys play like actors
in invisible love dreams of contrived romance
singing crazy songs in crazy names
where names mean nothing and men are liars
its the drama of poetic life saying hello
Crash unbridled gates. Grind organs
through the rosy calm of tolerance.
See misfits shuck the beasts
in bed with bliss. Type up and tack
to this new daily mess the bounds
of what went by 'neath private barroom
skies; no looming spy will fix you
flint to burn the friendly waters,
flicker honor out to disarrange
and scold some rhyme too bold
for comfort-answers, dumb-fit, fumble-
grounded in some sliver too uncouth.
Tape pageless trees for truth;
blog-sift the spheres, watch darkness' evil
ears upend and train the tuner on
the lips extolling groundwork kisses
(sparkful dominance upstaged
by passion turned to stone:
reserves gone sour, hour unknown.)
Mist-choked misnomers
acting onerous and blinking out of phase:
de-stage the structure. Anchor down who stays,
who pulls the latest polls. While blind-spots
clutch white lace like arguments,
make space to process what flies past
as ****** rats stay the course,
a maze in grace.
nivek Oct 2014
nodding dogs are upstaged
and outnumbered
by nodding Humans
nivek Mar 2016
Upstaged by your heart
a blue sea, a blue sky
the simply "be" of Shakespeare.
Cedric McClester May 2022
By: Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2022.

As I turn another page
To embrace advancing age
At times I am engaged
At other I’m outraged
For feeling so encaged
Or even unassuaged
And otherwise upstaged
By my advancing age

But I’m learning to be adept
At trying to accept
Sometimes being inept
And at others just outstepped
By a well-kept
Overriding precept
That’s not a defect
Of my intellect

So it makes perfect sense
That my experience
Might be quite intense
Not suggesting that I’m dense
In a figurative or literal sense
As part of life’s suspense
I’ve learned to carry on
So hence

You deal the hand
You’re dealt
On the conveyor belt
Despite the way
You’ve felt
While fastening your seatbelt
And you refuse to melt
Because of where you dwelt

Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2022.  All rights reserved.
nivek Aug 2016
evil lurks in the shadows
in full blown acts

and our shadows
are constantly upstaged

we wither under the weight
and crawl on our bellies

evil can be overcome
it takes many lifetimes

but in the end
its worth the try
Duncan Brown Apr 2018
Loan me a pyramid
Methinks I’ll create a desert
And a few things laid to waste
Hamlet’s now been discredited
His girlfriend went to his head
And the bald bard is now dead
Put that in your jest good fellow
And play with it until’ it’s finite
Cos’ I’ve got a life of my own
Dramatists an’ their princes
I ask you; who needs any of 'em?
This skull will paint the town
An' the treachery of Elsinore
A deep and blood soaked red
Life's much better red and dead
At last this poor, poor Yorrick
Wants his rich an' cold revenge
The pink champagne's on ice
An Ophelia's really quite nice
Twice a maiden for half the price
Chaining daisies for her prince
Will she jump or shall I shove
It’s jolly difficult to determine
If she’s coming or if she’s going
With half her bunnery to a nunnery
Or all her nakery to a bakery
It’s all really quite *******
I must mismatch that doxy later
She's such a lovely little mover
An’ quite the mountain shaker
She’s wasted on that lunatic
Besotted with his hollow crown
And everyone loves the mad prince
The odd fellow’s such an infinite pest
And an absolute calamity of error
Now the loser’s love will love  
This fool who looks and acts
Like me, a prince with brains
That's my own unkind of justice
Laced with the sweetest contempt
Her father was a broken pawn
Shop keeping’s in his blood
He had madness in his method
But his ambition was quite flawed
Shallow depth betrayed his thought
He could’ve have been a contender
Not just a two bit part of a player
Upstaged by a curtain. How tragic!
Death by drapery; don’t you just love it?
His son is now a polished footman
And such an excellent head waiter
He spends his life in glass mirrors
Reflecting on his boney features
As I make sure he waits forever
So much better never than Laertes
That’s my motto for another day
He may count himself so fortunate
He was such a snappy dresser
(Do take me to your tailor
I'll deal with your leader later)
‘Tis a pity he was such an idiot
If brains were more his fashion
And skulduggery were his judge
He might have fared much better
Of characters faithful to a grudge
He could’ve lived much longer
I'll make him beg and borrow
At my very own convenience
Then dispatch him to his father
That eternally serial draper
Ashes to ashes and curtains to curtains
There’s a poetic justice in that
And it’s ever so sweetly prosaic
I might even copyright that
It’s so great to be (sic) on the up
And watch the shallow pale cast
And all their precious thought
Come tumbling, tumbling down
Life’s just great for a vicious close
Horatio; a name to conjure with              
Is now my personal skull dresser
His life is in his hand held mirror
And vanity was his saving feature
But not enough to save the creature
Vanished in the puff of a hairspray
Mist and then tragically unspoken
By all outside his fractured image
Hair today and bald tomorrow
More in boredom than in sorrow
That’s the way life goes in Elsinore
A place of lunacy and ditch fillers
Bedevilled by ghosts and spectres
Wearied by the mortality of trespass
But lovely for their dramatic effect
With dreary words in opaque coats
Whose only life was useless death
Haunted by their unbroken breath
Killing the living is as easy as pie
Deceasing the dead takes real talent
But some how I know I’ll manage
Burying them is a different matter
Perfect for the professional digger
Such simple souls with nice shovels
To gouge their own infernal trench
'Neath the crust of an all receiving earth
Their trade is part of my obsession
And their undertake is imminent
I’ll ditch them with an eternal trowel
And let them shovel hell as well
Isn’t that so me, generous to a fault
I’ll let them share a double vault
Two messengers and a message
Arrived in time for their departure
Later’s so much better than sooner
When your life’s the dying business
Overtime’s a bonus. Die one get one free!
Who’d resist such a generous bargain?
Certainly not a haggling fool like me
Most consanguineous with his deed
The King and Queen were in their dream
Before they met their nightmare      
Now they’re gone to match their deeds
And the kingdom is quite empty
There’s nothing left in their possession
A perfect state for my accession
The hollow hat suits this skull
At a jaunty and a rakish angle
And Ophelia will look great on me
Do bring that doxy closer to her maker
She can bring her chain of flowers
They’re perfect for the occasion
Tonight’s the night for her accession
Tomorrows the date of her departure
She can take her mad, mad prince
To that too, too solid earth
That gladly awaits their tenure
And I’ll be king of the castle
It’s so true; nobility fits me like a glove
And power is my one true love
Down the below and up the above
But alas and alack it came to an end
The doxy brought her princely friend
Who wasn’t quite full round the bend
Neither was he my best friend
With a daisy chain in every hand
And designs upon my scrawny neck
He stretched it ‘til it made that sound
Which left me crumpled on the ground
Rattling bones and kicking legs
Gasping for that sweet fresh air
Which forsooth was never there
And thus it was I met my fate
Both outrageous and unfortunate
The shallow earth consumed my flesh
And stole my ****** hollow bones
More in vengeance than in sorrow
They let me rot for all tomorrow
Perished by their flowery garotte
The precocious pair claimed the lot
Castles, kingdoms and a ****** moat
And all that rots in old Denmark              
All by the method of their madness
And I their puppet on a string
I do believe they planned it thus
To leave me squirming in the dirt
To take the blame and feel the hurt
A cat’s paw for the embrace of death
By the doxy and the scheming heir
My my, my, what a precious pair
Death by daisy chain, how pathetic
A comedy more tragic than divine
I’ll never be able to live it down
And they will never dredge it up
Alas, this last poor Yorrick’s gone
And all their ***** doings are done
Less in grandeur than in greed
The beggars planned the ****** deed
And all I got was this floral ****
Oh what a foolish fool dies in me
And oh what a pity rules in Elsinore
A greedy prince an’ a scarlet *****
That’s their lot, there’s nothing more
Except this one true final score
The bald bard knew the old trap door
Concealed a fall in the rakish floor
Is everything wormwood, wormwood?
That’s the question, and there’s the scrub.
Troy Mar 2020
My quill set for the page,

Yet my mind’s eye is upstaged,

Betwixt them sits a wall,

But here no war shall be waged,



I search for beauty and pathos,

Yet my aperture gathers only stone,

If the barrier were to give itself kudos,

For having left my page all alone



But to think of the possibility,

That the wall itself but not a writer,

That the curvature of the laden brick,

Creates a paradox of the block.
Told myself I havent written a poem lately, and I got a rather rapid writers block. so Why not use what I have?
Exosphere Jan 2021
has been upstaged
by you
Your parchesi looks like our ludo. Late up today as was at the theatre last eve with friends and the star was upstaged. Most of the daytime was rain and I wrote stuff. It is good to be different, i like your work.

I like patterns and organising things.

the idea of a book is mine homework........

i have wood drying yet i admit to buying kiln dried birch logs from the farmers store

cracking good flames

My logs cost £12 for 4 bags and I buy those as  need. My neighbour brought fir logs at Christmas and I have hazel, oak and conifer drying. Keep warm James

 The  photo is from last year, my neighbour's path. He does not know the flowers and he strims them away. He is a farmer.

I like the salvage yards here and am a frequent visitor.

— The End —