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Julian Jun 2018
The ******* of embezzled glory staunchly defend their counterfeit stature by defalcating the public trust of industrious societies governed internally by compunction and sabotaged externally by the tempests of acerbic fate met with inclement aleatory convergence. To supply a society with ingenuity without being complaisant or officious with unctuous pleas to the overlords we must fashion a new vogue that taps the bustle of giants and aggrandizes the margins to oversee their own creative destinies with scaffolded arrangements of titanic promise and justifiable fluidity to conquer the blinkered dogmatism of a dissolute chastity to inveterate apocryphal tenets of factitious but unmerited perspectives. Democracy crumbles when the convenience of sensationalism supplants the resolve of those that fossick hidden wealth and promulgate validity instead of undergirding pomp with precarious prevarications of duplicitous omission guarded gingerly by the gatekeepers of a ****** sanity that whitewashes the discussion with invented hobgoblins and purblind catharsis. To defeat simplicity and enshrine byzantine elegance as the paragon for voguish commentary rather than abide by a bowdlerized decorum for appeasing simpletons with divisive balkanization through identity politics we can overcome the impediments to human progress that are engineered to persist because of the inertia of the listless and the stubbornness of doctrinaire politicization and invent vivacity and festivity anew. We need to divorce ourselves from pedestrian quibbles of hero-worship that endanger the vitality of the common discourse because of fastidious pedantic disempowerment that ravages us with debased dreams by underscoring nuisances and tolerable nightmares that emasculate the virulence of the liberated individual and subvert his ambitions to contend with a picaresque world of limitless promise and self-motivated internal wealth.
      The bane of modernity is how chary the world becomes because of fractured histories intersecting with controversial destinies and the antidote to that poisonous self-defeating self-censorship is the audacity of brazen challenges to expurgation through assiduous resourcefulness and delicate diplomacy in wrangling controversies with outspoken courage rather than whispered resentment. Temerity waged in inclement circumstance is justified and curiosity stoked by lambent flames of fulgurant individualism should be fortified to the extent necessary to conquer the feckless spoilsports of unctuous puritanism and institutional obedience. The quacksalvers that blather about inconsequence strand the imagination in a desiccated desert that is ostracized from the palettes of the artistic whim to wield efflorescence rather than squander life in pursuit of perfunctory lucre or tenuous solidarity around banal idealism promised by social justice warriors that forget the biggest war being waged on humanity is on the ingenuity of the common discourse and the liberty to opine about real issues rather than saccharine conventions of emasculation through linguistic imprisonment and epicurean slavery to fashimites who relish the buzzword but never the enlightened audience that scoffs at feeble attempts at cultural commentary like Childish Gambino’s “This is America” music video. This particular artifact is a demonstration of how childishly fickle the plebeian mentality really is, stitching together a bricolage of violence to engineer controversy and serenading it with the most banal music imaginable and exhorting people to herald it as a high artform while inundating the world with unimaginative comic book movies and Star Wars rip-offs because of the lucrative business of formulaic replication. “This is America” should be regarded as a parody of itself because of how hackneyed its design is and how cacophonous it sounds and mocks its audience with lowbrow tactics of adding tinsel to trash and marketing it as the glory of tatterdemalions rather than the refinement of true cinematic achievements that have been relegated because Warhol’s Campbells-Soup-consumerism trumps true belletrist in the public view.
        Cultural watersheds punctuate our history with salient achievements in experimentation, but the formulaic profiteering of buzzword sensationalism and yellow journalism and the ostentatious glorification of promiscuous boasting and fancy cars tantalize the mice to continue playing slot machines rather than penning a novel or doing something promethean. The world scoffs at Trump but ignores the bigger institutional caveats that endanger us much more than a pragmatic albeit unconventional pontificator who is complicit in constructing a false narrative to enslave mindless people to fret about eminence rather than delight themselves in the consequential nuances of established refinement that used to serenade the world with flourish and spectacle. The world kowtows to the crusade against flavor-of-the-week enemies of the liberal-conservative syncretism because it has been conditioned to believe that synthesis is the only logical solution for the polarized worldviews of churlish people that become parvenus not on their merits but on their marketable pitfalls and their public foibles. Peccadillos are more important to people than virtues and this makes society morally bankrupt if we loiter around Astroturf causes that have been infiltrated by corporatism and venal debauchery and acquiesce as disempowered gossip hounds that hunt in packs to find jest in aberration rather than achievement in self-created narratives that defy the stupid purblind boorishness of the mainstream media and its haughty liberalism or the persnickety condemnation of priggish conservative moralities that had an expiration date 50 years ago. Who the **** cares about transgender-touting-gender-fluidity quidnuncs and the snooty obsession with lurid personal endeavors of reputable people that made minor ****** transgressions in a world policed by wide-eyed feminazis that seek to ransack men of their vital virulence to spotlight their unjustifiable oppression. Women are oppressed but the carnal nature of their calumniation and their vindictive powers of persuasion are deployed with such vehement vigilance and such distaste for the majority that the world relegates itself to quibbles of celebrities rather than substantive issues. There is a systemic feminization of society occurring that seeks to demarcate despotic uxorious pleasantries as an incarceration of vocal dissent against supercilious women and their tamed men that slavishly grovel in repudiation of anything prickly.  Men historically have oppressed women but the solution to this quandary isn’t a reverse discrimination where the minority concern is spotlighted as a majoritarian issue that overshadows the disproportionate nature of our society where nominal accreditation is afforded in a non-meritocratic way to absolve people of their carnality and demote the vigorous defense of human liberty as secondary to compromise solutions that appease more people than they offend but simultaneously result in suboptimal conditions that reward arbitrarily coachable people while jettisoning anyone witty enough to be capable of insubordination of a hedonistic epicurean world obsessed with appearance and ravaged by the decadence of formulaic profiteering at the expense of originality and true promethean art that is herculean enough to defy hackneyed tropes and siphon the best elements from a piecemeal world variegated with complexity but stifled by fomented hatred.
The solutions to these problems is to create a watchdog group of artistic critics who become eminent and ubiquitously heard enough to offer creative consultation to the artistic endeavors that we consume and the music that is curated for fastidious ears that crave euphonic originality rather than the banality of easily dovetailed bass-heavy cookie-cutter garbage and the gaudy tactics of talentless rappers whose swagger derives from  the intersection of opportunism and the divestiture of an industry that rewards gloated supercilious epicureanism and meretricious marketability. Am I the only one jaded by second-rate superhero movies that infest the cinemas that borrow from Michael Bay while thrusting pulse-pounding but narratively bankrupt movies down the throats of consumers that might prize the cinematic originality of the heyday of filmmaking? Is it always high art to invent controversy that is witless or half-witted just because it will create buzz? Shouldn’t we condemn the laziness of society in acquiescing to the penury of the modern cultural narrative which belabors the dead horses of racism and sexism ad nauseum? Shouldn’t we fight the war of against inequity through legislation rather than hibernating about scandalous eminence and testy malfeasance?
          Liberty should be championed above all else and we are turning our backs on the future unless we muster the resolve to diminish the sway of the common narrative and aim our spotlight at consequential endeavors rather than the tropes of prosaic and pedestrian bastardization of art and culture. We need to fight artistic laziness which has ravaged our culture and castigate the tactics of wannabee celebrities that use lurid tactics to attract an audience by bedizening themselves with Pyrrhic ostentations and rampant fakery to create more melodrama in a world that needs to be less histrionic. YouTube celebrities swarm us as they get high on ******* and lean-- at our expense-- and vandalize property and convincing nine-year-old’s like Lil Tay to flex her money like it is infinitely renewable in a finite world where all our attention is wasted on artless artifice of less talented people that know how to engineer a ruckus by strutting themselves beyond all decency and selling out to a corporatist nightmare of enslaved convenience. We need to be more vocal about the dissolution of artistic merit and the formulaic repetition of successful formulas that jade us and make us yawn about another retread of a previously successful idea that is milked to the point of cruelty.                                                         ­                       
       Let’s change the narrative and focus on creating true art rather than reacting to the meretricious tinsel of the vogue consensus which is so impotent in its ability to rivet audiences because it has become so notoriously lazy. Fight laziness in art, dismiss your news feeds, be resourceful, seek true happiness rather than find yourself hoodwinked and duped by the idea that Trump is the most important issue or getting caught in thought loops and brooding about sexism and inequality. Let us strive to be egalitarian but within limits that would also appease hominists rather than just the hypertrophy of the leftist narrative that seeks to cage us with the doublespeak of complaisant conformity.  Reject the unctuous charlatans that pretend priggishness when their banausic purpose is barbaric but beguiling to be a lullaby for laggards. We need to fight for the future of civilization rather than hobnob with convenience and loiter around decrying false perpetrators rather than systemic injustices that could otherwise be rectified if enough people fought for it. We can invent a future that is a great festivity serenaded by cultivated artistic refinement and forget about the trifles that divide us. United in ambition and fueled by ingenuity we can defeat artistic laziness and be resourceful with how we decide what is newsworthy. Spurred by the argosy of proactive motivation we can change the world in a substantial way by deciphering the subtext that governs the world. The subtext is everything!
Big Virge Oct 2014
Folks It Is A ... " Fine Line " ... !!!
That ... CLEARLY DEFINES ...
The Road That I Walk ...
With Words That I Rhyme ...

Cos' Words That I Talk May See Me In Court ... !!!
WITHOUT Sean Or ... " Just Cause " ... !!!

Because of YES THEM Those In Governments ...
And Those Who They Send ...
To Enforce ... POOR Judgements ... !!!!!

But Of Course They'll Contend ...
That My Wordplay ... OFFENDS ...
And May Well STIR UP TROUBLE ...
And Cause .... " VIOLENCE " .... !!!!!

But It's Okay For THEM To Say What They Like ... !???!
And Declare Their War Fights As Forms of Defence ...
When Plans They Design Keep Causing PROBLEMS ... !!?!!

Well It Doesn't Seem Like Their Actions Are Right ... !?!
When Every News Night The Things In Our Sight ...
KEEP Showing Us VISIONS of People Who ... DIE ... !!!!!

Now That's A Fine Line I Have Re-Designed ...
From Princes' Great Song The ... " Sign 'o' The Times " ... !!!

So Don't Get Me Wrong My Lines Are Refined ...
And Clearly BELONG Where Fine Lines RECLINE ... !!!

Each Line That I Write Proves My Mind Is Inclined ...
To Write About Crimes Affecting Our lives ....

And It Is A Fine Line That Helps Me To FIND ...
A Way To  Express My Anger And Stress ...
About How We TRY To Do What Is RIGHT ... !!!!

But What Does This Mean ... ?!?
In A World So ... UNCLEAN ... !!!!!

What Do We Stand For ... ?
When Going To ... WAR ... !?!

We Should Take A .................
.............................................

...... Pause ..............

And THINK of Our Cause ...
Is Making Blood POUR ....
What We're Really Here For ... ?!!!?

If You're Thinking ... YES ...
Are You .... REALLY SURE .... ???

How Would You Feel ... ?
If The Blood Poured Was ... YOURS ... !!!

Or Someone YOU LOVED ... !!!
And REALLY ... CARED FOR ... !!!!!!

Well As These Lines State ...

It Is A Thin Line Between YES ...
...... " Love and Hate " ......

But Hating For REAL ...
WON'T Help Us ... Relate ... !!!

These Days It's Quite CLEAR The Dangers of FEAR ... !!!!!
But That's Nothing New The Past's Given Clues ...
of How IGNORANCE Fuels Individuals To USE ...
Torture And Abuse Through Crews Filled With FOOLS ...
Who THINK ... Hatred IS COOL ... !!!!?!!!!

Well Hatred Profiled ...
Does NOT Lead To Smiles ...

It Leads To A Place ...
That's NOT Quite So Great ...
And Leads Us Through Leaders ...
Who Like To .... DICTATE ....

Like Those Around NOW .... !!!
Who Want To CLAMP DOWN ...
On People Like Me ....
Whose Wordplay's So Neat ...

That .... Our Poetry ....
Gives Policemen A Beat ...
That Makes Them ... RETREAT ... !!!!!

See What I Mean ... !!!

My Poetry Seams Are Suitably Clean ...
And Walk A Fine Line of Quality Rhymes ...
That ... BYPASS Extremes ... !!!

Because They're Inclined To UNIFY Minds ....
See That's How I'd Like My Wordplay DEFINED ... !!!

Speaking Your Mind Should NOT BE A Crime ... !!!
UNLESS What You Say Divides And Spreads HATE ... !!!

I'd Rather Spread LOVE ...
Through Kisses And Hugs ... !!!
While Most Now Indulge ...
In Acting Like THUGS ...
And Taking HARD DRUGS ...
When They've Had Quite ENOUGH ... !!!!!

People Like THESE ...
Make Me Want To CUSS ... !!!!!!!

But These Days I'm TRYING ...
To ... Rise uP ABOVE ....
These ... Wannabee Thugs ... !!!

Who Spread Talk of Dying ...
Cos' Their Words NEED ... !!!

....... " REFINING " ....... !!!!!!

Things You Put Out ...
Come Back Son DON'T DOUBT ... !!!!!

Now That's A ... FINE LINE ...
That's Got ... LOTS of CLOUT ... !!!
So Think CAREFULLY ... !!!
BEFORE ... Running Your Mouth ... !!!!!

Fine Lines That I Write of Upsetting Designs ...
Are NOT To Start Fights So REMEMBER That Line ... !!!

They May Cause Offence ...
And May Cause Arguments ...
But USE .... COMMON SENSE ...
And REJECT ... VIOLENCE ... !!!

Keep A Cool Head ...
Like Des Dekker Said ... !!!!!

Then Pick Up A PEN ...
Rather Than Make Attempts ...
To Bring Me DISTRESS .... !!!!!!!
Cos' You Want To SUPPRESS
A View I've Expressed ...
That's Left You ... UPSET ... !!!!!

THAT Message Is SENT ...
To Those ... JEALOUS Gents ...
Who Think They're The BEST ...
At Writing Fine Lines ...
With Words That They Rhyme ... !!!

Well CLEARLY They're BLIND ... !!!
And ... OUT of Their Mind ... !!!!!!
To Think That Their Rhymes ...
Are ... BETTER Than MINE ...  ?!?

Those Causing Us STRESS ...
Are Those In GOVERNMENTS ... !!!

They PLAN To DIVIDE ...
NOT See Us ... " UNITE " ... !!!!!

THINK About That ...
Before Starting FIGHTS ... !!!!!

Black On Black Crime ...
Has Been ... LONG DESIGNED ...

Don't You  Think It's Time ...  ?!?
We Start To Fight THEM ... ?!?!?
And Their BOGUS Systems ... !!!

That's Where I Will END This Simple Poem ...  

Cos' ...

Words In Those Lines ...
May Cause Me PROBLEMS ... !!!!!

Even Though Their JUST Rhymes
That Flow And DEFINE ...
How The Words I Transcribe ...

REALLY WALK ...

.... " A Fine Line " ....
An early foray into rhyming, that delves into a number of interesting subjects ......
Rob Sandman Apr 2016
I’m a Polyglot Polymath, Microphone’s a Polygraph,
Manners of a Sociopath-Rhymin’ keeps me on the path,
Else I’d be hackin you up like a cannibal,
Pullin the Chianti out-serve you up like Hannibal,

Words heavier than Elephants invading cross the alps,
Under Armour over Body Armour-waistline fulla scalps,
From the Belt o’ the Celt o’ the Schizophrenic Sandman,
You’re triple teamed by -EC- Raps new Xmen.

I broke me chains,some say I went insane,
But it’s simple,all I went and did was grow a brain.
be the Bane of your life,while Mal plays Dark Knight,
A rhyme Super Villain with a verse of Dark Light,

The searchlights on-watch the cockroach scatter,
We speak Dark Matter while your brain gets battered,
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
Mal and Sandman's Positively Mental Attitude.


It’s the original Irish OG rough rugged and ready,
Battling me is futile keep your hands steady,
I’m no pacifist,and if you take the ****,
I’ll clap you with a fist like an obelisk,

That’s a grave warning,-global warming,
The Dragon of Eire ,skies look stormy…
Since cassettes and disks I’ve been spittin ****,
That makes wannabee’s wanna slit their wrists,

The Sandman’s calling,come in and take a mauling,
Rappin since clappin one two and yes y’allin,
from New Aulins to saint Pauls my kin,
Are gathering for the quickenin,pulse races,air thickenin'
Highlander in a land cruiser,take your teeth out like a dentist
E.C’s BRUISER.
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
by Mal and Sandmans Positively Mental Attitude.
Don't expect subtlety here,just like it says on the tin.
A Lopez Aug 2015
They promote themselves as magician's
And only give us pain
They remote us in a kitchen
With a apron on, and say 'hey babe'
They try to take our moolah
And spend it on high cost drugs
They wear pants like their ten again
Wannabee southern thugs
I  gave him my all
Had a beautiful girl from the mix
But in the mix he did not check out
He showed noone respect
So I will show him nothing back
He doesn't deserve no kiss
It's better to move on happy with me
And my daughter who he dissed
But I will let him see her
Because that's what mothers do
Because I love my ballerina
My daughter, I do love you.
Sacrelicious Apr 2012
I’am the
Whiney,
Amy Winehouse
Wannabee.
That’s going to blow myself,  
away
before the Whispers of wicked winds can.

I can’t smile anymore.
If you have to always
stab
me in the back.
My heart lives on the other side
of my body.
If ya wanted to....

I could get you;
a steak knife
and you could
tear into my heart
like it’s
a medium rare steak.

If it would make you happy.
I’ll even bring the A-1.
Cause I care that much.
A Lopez Oct 2015
Take my heart and boil it
In your **** kiss and make me miss
What I once had,
Call me mami
I'll call you papi
No, not dad.
Make me happy
Keep me happy
No not sad
I'm not some playgirl
Robin hood.
As you claim to be.
Big Virge Aug 2020
Ya Know I've Heard It Said By Older Heads...
COMPETITION Is Part of Human STRENGTH... !!!

That's TRUE I Guess But Now Detect...
Competitions NOW Have Got DEFECTS... !!!
And DON'T Give Wealth To Humanity's Health... !!!

I'm Older Now So See Just How...
Competitions... DROWN...
Because of CLOWNS...
Now CLAIMING Crowns... !?!

As If They're... KINGS... ?!?
When They're Just.............
COMPETING... WEAKLINGS... !!!!!

Like Heads NOW Kicking Lyrics...
That LACK The Depth And Slickness...
In Verse BIG VIRGE Be Bringing... !!!

My Poems Leave Heads RINGING... !!!
Because My Words Keep STINGING... !!!
Like Cobras That Be... SPITTING... !!!

In The Faces of FAKES Who Just Can't Take...
STRONG BRANDS of SHARP Wordplay... !!!!!!

They QUICKLY Run For Cover...
When They DISCOVER The Rocks I'm Under... !!!

Cos' My Venom EXTENDS...
... PROBLEMS For Them... !!!!!

Because My Chem'... HITS Ventricles...
And Blends To FEND Like Tentacles... !!!!!

That STING These Kids Like JELLYFISH... !!!!!
A... " Man o War "... For SURE... !!!!
When I HIT Shores Competitors ROAR...

"Okay Big Virge, No More, NO MORE !"......

Or Like DURAN... "No Mas No Mas !"

When I Start To PEPPER...
Their Head Like... LEONARD...
Cos' I'm The... Sugar Ray...
Wordplay... HEAVYWEIGHT... !!!!!!!!

TOO HEAVY To Be Found...
On... ANY Dub Plate... !!!!!!!

My Competition Dissipates......................... ..............
And Disintegrates Because They're AFRAID...
of The Kind of Wordplay I Choose To DISPLAY...
... That DESTROYS These FAKES... !!!!!

Competition They CLAIM...
To Want... ALL DAY... !!!

Til' I STAKE My Claim...
To Enter... CENTRE STAGE... !!!
And HIT LAME BRAINS...
With My... MIND SPRAY... !!!!!

I DAMAGE These FOOLS...
Just Like... " JERU "...

Compete With... WHO... ?!?
I'm The Doctor... WHOSE...
Competitive Words Have BIGGER BOOTS...
Than... COMPETITIVE JERKS...
Whose Verse... Lacks Worth... !!!

COMPETITIVE Dudes...
Who Were Born To LOSE... !!!!!!

I Compete With... ME...
NOT GLORY Hunting Freaks... !!!

Because...

EVERY TIME I Rhyme Alphabet Letters...
I'm Trying To BETTER My Form of VENDETTA...
To STAND For... MORE...
Than THESE WHORISH Trend Setters... !!!

I'm A VERBAL GO GETTER...
NEVER Late But... FOREVER... !!!

A Man Whose VIEWS...
COMPETE To... CONSUME...
VOLUMES In Rooms...
Who CHOOSE To REFUSE...

WORDPLAY I USE...
I'm A Bit... " CONFUSED "... ???

When It Seems They CHOOSE...
To BELIEVE It's... COOL...
When These FOOLS Exude...
SO MUCH... ATTITUDE...
About... " How They DEFEAT ! "...

EVERYBODY They Meet...
When It Comes To... FREESTIES'...
That They KICK Over Beats... !!!!!?!!!!!

They're QUICK To APPLAUD...
These... Lyrical FRAUDS... ?!?
Who COMPETE To Hear ROARS...
When They're... Treading The Boards... !!!

COMPETITIVE... Actors... !!!
Kind of Like An X Factor...
For... Wannabee Rappers...
Who … LACK The Bite...
of..... VELOCIRAPTORS...... !!!!!!!!

As For The... Gun Clappers...
They Take JOOK' Like SLAPPERS... !!!!!!

When... Like A SLACK Gangster...
They Get SHOT In The CRAPPER...
Cos' Their **** LOST It's HAMMER... !!!!!!

I Make These FOOLS... " S T T T TAMMER "... !!!!!
When I Utilise... GRAMMAR...
That HAMMERS Like BANNER... !!!

OKAY I Mean... THOR... !!!
COMPETING... Fa' SURE... !!!
When It Comes To A Cause...
WORTH... FIGHTING For... !!!!!

I COMPETE On... Spirit Levels...
That DISHEVEL These DEVILS... !!!
Who... CLEARLY Seem To REVEL...
In Being Given... MEDALS...
For NONSENSE That They PEDAL... !!!

Like PRIEST My HEAVY MENTAL...
Is How I... BURN And SETTLE...

Scores With... BROADS...
I Mean... GIRLS Of Course... !!!

Who... CLEARLY LIKE To See...
THESE Gangster Wannabes'...
COMPETING For Their *****... !!!!

NO MORE Do I CONCEDE... !!!
To PANDER To Their Schemes... !!!

My Competition FEEDS...
OFF MORE Than They Could Be... !!!!!!!!

My Competition NEEDS...
To Make A... BETTER ME... !!!!!

NOT To PROVE To... " Peeps' "...
That I'm BETTER Than Jay-Z... !?!?!

I'd RATHER Be... " The V "...
Whose VENDETTAS COMPETE...
AGAINST The... Powers That Be... !!!!

And FIND A... HIGHER Mission...
Than Being... SOLELY DRIVEN...
To Fighting For... A PITTANCE... ?!?

In PETTY.............

……. " COMPETITION " …….
I was never one to believe that an artists' work should be something to be placed in competitions. People either like what you do or they don't ....

Voting on art is Hardly Ever, Objective .....
Anais Vionet Mar 2023
Midterms are over and I killed ‘em (yes, even the physics) - yeah me!
I spent the last two weeks like prisoners do, marking off days until - freedom. Now the pressure’s off and I can chill. Spring break starts tomorrow, and I have NO plans.

It’s dinnertime and we’re (Leong, Sunny, Lisa and I) in the Commons dining hall, celebrating, with bacon-cheeseburgers and fries (Leong’s a cheeseburger ******).

Lisa Turned to Sunny, “What songs are playing in your ears today?”
“I’m looping "Good Riddance" by Gracie Abrams - which might be a little gay for you.”
“Sunny and I were discussing that earlier,” I chirped in, “especially ‘Amalie’ (the song).”
“Gracie’s not dating that guy anymore? Lisa asked.
“She broke up with him,” Sunny said.
again?” Lisa gasped.
“Yeah, she broke up with him for good, a few months ago,” Sunny reported.
“I thought that they got back together.” I said, trying to remember my Teen Vogue gossip.
“Nope,” Leong said, stealing one of my fries, “saw it on ‘the shade’ (theshaderoom)”
“Wait, wait, Blake Slatkin - or a new boy?” Lisa asked, holding up her hand like we’re in class.
Sunny laughs, “Anyway, Gracie isn’t dating a girl but in that ‘Amalie’ song she’s like, ‘where did you go Amalie, I’m crushing on you.”
“Amalie..” Leong said, searching for a last name.
“Amalie Homin,” I said, “That’s what I heard, but I don’t know it on my own.”

“Ooo!” Lisa said, “Speaking of carols,” and nodding towards the main entrance. Leong and I had our backs to the door, but we swiveled discreetly as a girl I’ll call “Monique” (I’m not doxing anyone) walked in with a group of her entourage-like friends.

My roommates and I, being young, single and curious girls - have ongoing chaz or chaste debates - where we judge people (quietly, in a non-mean-girl way, amongst ourselves), to be either chaz or chaste - based on their general *** appeal, style and swagger.

A chaz is a playa’, someone who everyone wants (sexually) and who’s probably “sactive” - a chaste, is a wannabee, a poser who’s trying hard but is probably “involuntarily abstinent.”

A big, beefy, but not overly attractive football player would draw a “chaste,” “chaste,” “chaste,” while, say, a tall, dark, handsome physicist would earn a “chaz,” “chaz,” “chaz!!”

Monique, who’s studying marketing (school of business), is an over-tha-bridge black girl from Jamaica who was once in a band that had some low-level success. As we watched her strut across the room, I brought the question to Sunny. Monique’s fem-facing, as is Sunny, so Sunny’s the expert on-hand, “Do you think Monique’s a chaz?”

I state my case, talking softly, “Monique walks around campus wearing a t-shirt with her own picture on it, under a blazer,” I snigger, derogatorily, “being like, all these ******* want me.”

Sunny gasps, “How DARE you call smart, modern, lesbian women *******!” She laughs.

“All these lovely ladies, these rad, sapphic-gals really want me.” I amended. “It’s farcical, isn’t it? I repeated, fashion aghast. “Wearing a t-shirt with your own picture on it - like you’re a rockstar.” I put the ultimate question to Sunny: “Is she actually pulling any veejay like that?”

“You doubt she’s pulling any strong, empowered women?” Sunny asked back rhetorically. Sunny rolled the question over in her mind and declared, shrugging, “She’s a chaz. It works - for the gays, hundo-p."

“Hard to believe,” I admitted, shrugging in the face of Monique’s sheer tackiness. We watched the strange group leave, loaded down with goodies, like pirates who came and looted the area.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Farcical: “performing a ridiculous act,”

Slang…
sactive = sexually active
a carol = a hot, irresistible girl
over-tha-bridge = average looking
fem-facing = a lesbian
hundo-p = 100%    

“chaz or chaste” was invented by a couple of fem DJs on WYBC, Yale student radio.
Boris on the air and
there's virus everywhere,
but he's telling us that we
are nearly there,

not sure where there can be,
but it's nowhere near here
because
we're still wearing masks
knitted from our fear
and
there's talk of mutant strains
it could be
ninja's coming up from drains,

but there's always Boris on the air
telling us that we are nearly there.
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
Uncle Tom waltzed;
Dressed in a hat and tailcoat,
A cough and a sore throat,
He takes his coffee black.
A soothsayer that sings like a ***;
Bible in hand thumb strum, thump,
His soul hammers out ~
on a cheap plastic drum.

I walked a mile in a dead man’s shoes !

Slow down Tom for the evenings long
And the sun an’t rising any time soon,
There’s not a dry eye in the house;
Just bells and bones and a waitress or two,
Whistling tunes that open doors;
I don’t want to be a wannabee !
but I walked a mile in a dead man’s shoes !

https://youtu.be/3ql04e9J_oI
Bought some old style shoes from a charity shop but they didn't fit my feet!, I walked a painful mile in them before dropping them off at another charity shop ! "Tom was written in black ink just inside the heals of the shoes.
Mike Essig Dec 2015
He had only been home from the war for six days when she knocked on his door. He had been contemplating suicide. Sworn to secrecy by law and strange spooks with dead eyes, he couldn't tell her that. Whatever wounds he had suffered were his to bear alone and would be for many years. Still, his world was so turned upside down by the madness he had just escaped that her unexpected arrival seemed appropriate.

San Francisco, 1972; not the halcyon hippie days, but the lull shortly thereafter. It was a good place to be, safe and cheap. Much better than upland Laos with its piles of dead ***** and terrifying firefights. His apartment at Geary and Van Ness cost $275 dollars a month and felt like a sanctuary.

And there she stood, even more beautiful at nineteen than she had been at fifteen when they first made love on the grass in their hometown cemetery beside the Civil War memorial near the pile of cannon *****. You don't turn down a vision.

Come in, he said, and she didn't so much enter as flutter back into his scarred life. Her traveling companion, a nondescript hippie wannabee, stood beside her. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and he disappeared.

That night, they made love like tigers. All the unspent lust accrued in battle erupted out of him and flowed into her. He wasn't gentle or considerate or skillful. When they ******, he smelled cordite, heard choppers beating and saw bloated corpses. It was like another deadly encounter in the bush, ferocious and abrupt. What she made of it, he couldn't tell, but she was more than game.

He had orders for Germany, but that was weeks away. They spent those weeks mostly in bed, as only the very young can manage, doing it every way they knew or could imagine. That tornado of desire took the edge off his rage and sense of betrayal. It may have saved his life.

Later, when he flew away, she stood and waved, astonishingly lovely in a miniskirt, her long chestnut hair flowing. She had no idea what she had done.

Things changed. It was decades before they really talked again. By then not even her name was the same, if she even really had one. Although their lives had long diverged, the connection remained, name or not. When he saw her, after all that time, all those bodies, all those endless miles, she was exactly the same girl who had knocked on his door those thirty-six years gone and he knew in that instant that nothing true ever really dies.
- mce
rp
Chapter 30: This Ain’t No Country Club

He stared longingly out the back window of his Dad’s

car. He was headed off to the country club again, missing

the nightly ‘Wiffle-Ball’ game with the guys.

The playground was not a country club. There was no price of admission, or exclusive standards necessary to be admitted. You could be black, white, red or yellow. It didn’t matter. What did matter was how you played, and how you fit into the group. You may have been a social outcast or juvenile delinquent outside the playground, and yes we had a few, but what really mattered was how you acted inside the fence.

In 1958 my parents joined the local country club. Being a young, upwardly mobile couple, and enjoying the success of my father's growing business, my parents decided that this was one way in which they could celebrate. I hated it! Not because I didn’t like the people there or didn’t want to learn to play golf. It was because it took time away from my favorite place — the playground.

After dinner in the summers, my parents would hurry up and clear the table and then head to the ‘club’ with us kids in tow to get in nine holes. This of course meant that I had to miss the nightly ‘Wiffle-Ball’ game in the street. I would then have to suffer through the entire next day hearing who hit twelve home runs and who threw who out trying to make it home. It just wasn’t fair. How could a country club ever compare to a ‘Wiffle-Ball’ game or the playground? It couldn’t. Not then, and not now. The country club was stuffy to a ten-year old, and the country club had strange rules. Most of them seemed to be about what you couldn’t do.

A Direct Opposite From The Playground

How we go from the inclusive nature of our nation's playgrounds to the exclusive practices of our golf, tennis and yacht clubs is probably the subject for another book and another writer. I am just so grateful that my earliest experiences were on a grass field surrounded by a chain link fence. It was inside that fence that I felt the playground wrap its four-acre arms around me and, through its spirit of free-play, teach me the greatest lessons I would ever learn.

How we develop the later prejudices of black/white, democrat/republican, or any choice at the exclusion of another is not something we learned there. At the playground, in the absence of parents and adults, we had to fit in and find a way to adapt to one another. The weather and the big guys called all the shots. That’s the way it was, and that was A-OK with us. It worked, because at different ages, and at different times, we all got to be squirts, then decent players, and finally the big guys.

It Was Fair Even When It Was Unfair

If that doesn’t make sense to you, then you probably didn’t grow up on a playground, where the whole truly was greater than the sum of its parts. There were no polo ponies or alligators on our shirts symbolizing our dreams. We lived them every day, and we lived them together!


Chapter 31: Violent But Not With You

The stare-down was over. Joe took the first punch but

delivered the second, then five more. To his credit,

Bobby was still on his feet, but the fight was over.

The playground’s resident tough guy could be violent, but he almost never directed that towards you. Not unless you were dumb enough to challenge his honor by publicly embarrassing him or making him look like a fool in front of the other guys. Then, the punishment was swift, like being shown the door after making your company look bad because of a dumb comment you made at the quarterly board-meeting. Nothing was more fundamental or learned earlier than the recognition of power.

The young neighborhood girls sensed this more than anyone, and it harkened back to Robert Bly’s ‘Iron John’. “Men are attractive because of their fierceness”. The Playground took on an aura proportional to its ‘tough guy status, not unlike many corporations. The tough guy’s roles were limited but invaluable when called upon. He was the playground’s last line of defense, even though his role was mostly one of deterrence. Similar to many companies, the tough guy’s role was usually passed down from the resident champion to his heir apparent, sometimes willingly, and sometimes not.

The mechanics of this process were mostly known only to the tough guys, but it gave the playground the stability and the security it needed. In the movie ‘A Few Good Men’, Jack Nicholson, while under interrogation from Tom Cruise says: “Somewhere in places you don’t admit, you want me on that wall, where four thousand Cubans try to **** me before breakfast”. He then finishes it with the immortal line: “You want the truth, you can’t handle the truth”. In our playground, the truth was governed by principles based on natural selection and the Law of the Jungle. Bobby Gross was our resident Tarzan.

Bobby was from the poor side of our town and was almost sixteen in the eighth grade. He had been ruling our four-acre domain for as long as anyone could remember. Bobby always seemed so much bigger and older than we were. It wasn’t only his age that made him the resident tough guy. Bobby earned and retained this title due to the several times when he had successfully defended his crown. These events though seldom, were major occurrences in the playground and were attended like a championship bout. They almost never happened by accident and were full of anticipation and bravado. The challenge usually came from another playground, and we were all extremely proud of Bobby when he successfully defended our honor.

Bobby almost retired undefeated. At sixteen, just about everyone leaves the playground for the world of cars and girls. I say almost because of Joe Church. Joe was a Navy brat whose Dad was an Admiral at the Philadelphia Navy Yard. They had just moved up from Norfolk Virginia, and one gray Thursday afternoon Joe showed up on the Playground for the first time. No words had to be exchanged, or threats made, it was just something you knew. Bobby and Joe knew it better than anyone. There could only be one playground number one, and today there would be a changing of the guard.

Like Bobby, but even more so, Joe was advanced physically for his age. He was very athletic and muscular. He had an air of quiet defiance, bred by years of moving from one Navy town to the next having to defend his honor at every stop. No one quite remembers exactly how the fight started. Someone heard the word ‘punk’ shouted and it began. It was over almost as quickly as it began. After taking Bobby's best shot, Joe pinned Bobby up against the chain link backstop and beat him to a pulp with less than six punches. This kid could really fight. It’s funny though; with Joe there was no bravado or posturing, just a raging controlled fury that you hoped would never be directed toward you. Joe was later highly decorated in Vietnam, and all of us who shared our waning years on the playground with him were very proud— including Bobby Gross.

Another Playground Legend Was Made!

Most corporations have their resident tough guy, or gal. You can only hope that they got their training, and cut their teeth, on the grass and asphalt of a distant playground. That way you can be sure that their lessons were true. If not, you may have to suffer the rants and tirades of some William Agee or Jack Welch wannabee. The real tough guys pass their strength along in the form of confidence and security to those working under them, just like Bobby and Joe did for us. This creates an atmosphere of stability and confidence that allows everyone to thrive and prosper and comes from lessons truly learned and paid for. The god’s of the playground instilled this in all. They entered your soul on the fields and courts of adolescence ...

And Never Left.
Julie Barnes Jul 2015
As I read radical hate posts on social media, I find myself writing thoughts about life trials and love, under the guise of my childhood wannabee pseudonym Julie Barnes.

I guess that way I only get limited hate messages.

I know this is not actually poetry, but I didn't see a website called "Hello Random Observations".
Big Virge Feb 2020
Ya Know... Big Virge Words...
Are Built To Merge With... " The Purge "...

As In ... " The Flick "...
That TRULY IS ... SICK... !!!

But Here's The Trick...
This Flick Has Some TWISTS That May Well PREDICT....

A Future Where SIN Is A... " Once A Year Thing "... !?!

That's Where It BEGINS ...
As Do These Words I've Put Into Verse ...

I YES ...
PURGE The Urge To DENY What Hurts...

So That I Stay Calmer ...
Rather Than Bring The DRAMA ...
Like These ... " Wannabee' Osamas' "... !!!!!

Trying To Play That They HARDER ...
And INCREDIBLY ... SMARTER ...
Than A Man Whose Words DISTURBS Their Nerves... !!!!!!

Because My Words ... BURN... !!!
When They INSERT What I OBSERVE About Their World...

Where It's CLEAR That They ... " Think "...
They ARE ... " BIG SLICK "... !!!

When The TRUTH is THIS ...
They're ... FULL OF IT ... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Which Is Why I DECLINE To JOIN ... " Their Kind "...
And Have To PURGE ...
MY Wish To Employ That Which DESTROYS ...
The INFANTILE Noise Coming From These BOYS ... !!!!!

PLAYING That They MEN ...
Til' They Have To DEFEND Their Brand of NONSENSE ... ?!?

Against Words I Express ...
That Lyrically SPLURGE My Wish To ... " PURGE "...
My VIOLENT THOUGHTS With Words of WAR ...
That Bore Like ****** With... SWEATY Pores... !!!!!!

This Flick Fa' SURE Has STIRRED In Me ...
What It Is I FEEL ... Humanity NEEDS ...

A NEED For TRUTH ...
BEFORE People ... " En Masse "...
Get LOOSE And Start Acting UNCOUTH...
Through EVIL Moves Like BURNING Roofs ... !!!!!

That'll CLEARLY PROVE Their NEED To PURGE ...
Because of What HURTS ... " INSIDE Their Worlds "...

A NEED For LOVE And WARMER Stuff ...
Than Acting TOUGH And *** That's ROUGH ... !!!

Maybe That's What WORKS For Girls To PURGE ...
Their NEED To FEEL Something That's REAL ... !?!

But Is THAT ... " The REAL "... ???
That They're TRYING To FEEL ... !?!

Or Just ... "A Deal "...
That Has NO MEAL On Which To GROW ... !!!
Because It Feels Like Their ... ONLY HOPE ... !!!

Any OB1's ........ ?

... NOPE ... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just Moves Below That Are NO JOKE ... !!!!

Cos' They PROVE What BURNS May Well Just Lurk ...
UNDERNEATH THE Urge To ... ETERNALLY PURGE...

.... " Internal SCARS ".... !!!!!

Because It's THE HARD That's FUELLING Their Hearts...
of Those Who THINK They're SMART Like ... TONY STARK ... !!!

So Back To The Flick ...
Cos' I Recognise ... What The Movie Implies...

PROBLEMS On The RISE That Are Now WORLDWIDE ... !!!!!
How ... TOO MANY Lives Have Become Contrived ...

Because of LIES That Reside In The Minds ...
of Those Wanting To FIND Some PEACE FILLED Times ...

Yeah I Think It's Time To BELIEVE The Signs ...
That We NOW Observe ... ALL OVER The World ... !!!

BEFORE This World BURNS Because of Our Words ...
And VIOLENCE That Serves ...
Some ... FRUITLESS Hors D'oeuvres ... !!!

It Seems CLEAR To Me That Humanity NEEDS ...
To STOP VIOLENT Sprees That In The Future ... Could Be ...

.... " Government OVERSEEN "....
For TWELVE HOURS ... " YEARLY "... !!!?!!!

Like ... In The Movie... !!!
NOT ON Big Screens But VIA .... " CCTV ".... ?!!?

It Would Seem We NEED To ... " Work "...
To Learn HOW We Should...

........ " PURGE ".......
I really do believe that humanity could now do with, One BIG PURGE !
Aa Harvey May 2018
Music


Music is today’s poetry.  This is still our hour.
Music lets us become free from all the grind of power.
Music makes us fall in love with a moment in time.
Music is a memory; words are made to rhyme.


People need to dance and at the end, clap their hands.
Music helps us say those words,
When we are without a way to make you understand.
Beneath balconies we stand, with a ghetto blaster in our hands.
It’s raining, it’s pouring, so come on down and dance.


The modern day poet is a wannabee lyricist.
The modern day artisan produces music.
Music creates muses, because that’s what music truly is;
An collective event where nobody loses.


The sound of a song will be loved by someone
And the classics never miss; they reach out to everyone.
If it hits, then it’s a hit.
If it misses, then just forget it.
If you can’t, then it starts to become a repetitive, repetitive.
You hear it so many times, you still don’t like it, but you sing it
And in the end, you don’t mind anymore…
Sure; go ahead and play it on repeated.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Devon Brock Aug 2019
On clear days it rains buckets,
swelling the headwaters
and the algae blooms gluttonous.

Rufous clay breaks into wider trenches
and the towhee flashes away.

You never flinched when I crushed your hand
on that first day on the ****** rise before a charging
buffalo sun, gnat swarming my wild panicked eyes,
giddy with each hill blue upon bluer receding.

I'm a woodland kid, baby, creek crouching
with roots and canteens of sassafras
in the leopard light and leafmold;
the wannabee Tarzan swinging
on wintercreeper vines.
I'm the scurrying rat in the stormdrain,
taking the shortcut home for supper.

But there you were, straight as loblolly pine
in the canyon lands of Chicago, prairie drifted
in with the drifters and the hawk winds
of winter to find the woodland kid dragged
blind before the gridiron sky.

Two rivers led nowhere, two rivers
and a chance confluence of running
merged and pooled in a one bedroom cave
on Belmont, hatching our tadpole dreams,
fattening the swimmers with mustard greens
and gaudy hotdogs.

When we crested the banks,
on the continental divide,
one to the woodland, one to plains,
the water ran as waters do,
and as in each great story,
the boy follows the girl,
to the ****** rise before
the charging buffalo sun,
where you held my hand
and I saw the sky for the first time.
Aa Harvey Jul 2019
Continous rhyming


Misplaced the pennies I saved up to buy me a dream.
Lost all the marbles I tried to keep inside of me,
But nothing tastes like home
And nothing outside can beat my dome.


People in corners tell secrets you don’t want to hear.
Liars and truth sayer's speak words like they are diarrhoea.
Love’s Angels sing at night and I want to smash them with all my might.
**** all the goodness and split open all of the sores.
Wounds never heal when you are fighting for the wrong cause.


Rivers always flow; the wind it always blows,
But lonely as I am, I’ll never admit to defeat
And happy as I am, you’ll never see me in the street.
A ghost man with no name,
I have no interest in fame.
Just give me the money to buy myself out of this job.
Just send me the freedom I need to write the stories that I want.


The things we dream in dreams,
Are never quite what they seem.
Met me a reader who has never written a thing.
Wannabee singer; I wrote lyrics, but I could not sing.


Losers lose their mojo; don’t ask me where it goes.
Princes in palaces; I want everyone to go!
Princes and paupers are all the same when the end comes.
Death is the eternal entity and the end of all fun.


Everyone wants to live a life without the struggle and doubt,
But life is a razor and we stand on the edge waiting to be taken out.
Love is memory I hope to God I never feel again.
Continuous rhyming…same ol’ same…


(C)2019 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Big Virge Mar 2020
" They Are " … My Best Friends … !!!!!  

They Blend and Transcend ...
Beyond The Nonsense That Inspires Them … !!!
  
They DO NOT Defend Acts of Ignorance … !!!  
But Are My Defence When Facing Problems … !!!!!  
  
So They Are Never Far From My Mind Or My Heart ...  
Because They Bear SCARS From My Future And Past …  
  
Sometimes They Are DARK ...  
And Choose To Impart ...
Visions of PAIN That Rest In My Brain …  
  
Some Claim They're INSANE … !!!
Because of The Way They Are When ENRAGED … !!!!
  
Or Maybe They Play On Minds Who Retain ...
The Things They Explain When They Hit My Page … !!!
And The CORE of The Strain That Is Their Human Stain … !!!!!  
  
They Are Sometimes WRONG But Mostly Are STRONG …..
And NEVER WEAR Thongs To Get The ... " Come On " ... !!!!!  
  
They Are Rarely Called ...
But Clearly Are Chosen … !!!!!
To Show What Is … " Broken " …  
  
So ...  Are NOT FOR ALL … !!!!!  
Which Isn't Quite True ...
  
... " They Are " ...
  
YES For You And Are For Me Too … !!!!!!!
  
So Please Don't Confuse The Way They Are Used …  
They Are ABOVE FOOLS and That's Just THE TRUTH … !!!
  
The TRUTH They Consume And Eat Like GOOD FOOD … !!?!!

They RARELY Are Rude But REACT To Abuse ... !!!  
In .... Composure Filled Manners ….  
That Lyrically HAMMERS Wannabee' Dr. Banners ... !!!!!!  
  
They Are More Inclined To Pacify Crimes …  
That Rest In The Minds of Those Lacking Sight ...  
BEYOND Foolish Pride ... That Then Threatens Life … !?!?!  
  
They Are NOT THE TYPE To Walk Such Fine Lines … !!!  
Unless They're Comprised of Clever Designs …  
That Exhibit ANGST WITHOUT Tools In My Hands … !!!
  
Other Than Those That STAND For More Than Bloodshed ...
Because They Instead ... DEFEND PEACEFUL Ends ... !!!!!!!
  
THEY ARE About PEACE And MORE UNITY … !!!!!
  
So Don't EVER Concede To Violent Scenes …  
Or Falling For GREED FALLACIES Or War Deeds … !!!!!
  
THEY ARE  More In Tune With … " REALITY " … !!!!!
  
So Have To Consume Everything That They See … !!!
Surround Them Confound Them And … INSPIRE ME … !!!!!  
  
To Use What They Are To Define What's REVEALED … !!!
So YES They Are SHARP And Deal In What's REAL ... !!!
  
So YES Steel Themselves ...  
For Those Whose Intel ...  
Employs ... Hounds of Hell  … !!!!!
  
They Are NOT About Killing Or Into Blood Spilling … !!!!!  
  
So ... Are NOT Forgiving To Those Who Keep Spinning …  
Lies To Our Children When They ARE NOT Pilgrims … !!!
  
They Are About MORE Than Those Who ENSURE ...
That TRUTH Shouldn't Walk OUTSIDE Certain Doors … !!!!!
  
From Whales Forced To Shore To Those In Corridors ...  
Whose Rhetoric's FLAWED Because It's Been BOUGHT … !!!!!!
  
They Are BEYOND Teams Because They ARE ME … !!!!!  
YES They Are My Words They Are YES … My Verse …  
  
They Are More Than Poems I Choose To Express ... !!!
They Come From The Depths of My Creative Head …  
  
They AREN'T Always Right ... !!!
But Sometimes Are … SUBLIME … !!!
  
Because ...  
Sometimes They Find …  
Their Way To … The LIGHT … !!!!!  
  
Where What They Bring …  
  
……… SHINES ……… !!!!!!!!!!!
  
And Rhymes With Insights That OPEN The Minds …  
Who Want To See RIGHT ... Within These Dark Times ... !!!
  
" They Are " …..
  
Part of My Psyche Both Daily And Nightly …  
And FILL UP My Mind With Verse That I Write ….  
  
And Sometimes I DO … !!!
Sit And Ask Myself … WHY … ???
  
They Are So Attuned To So Much In This Life …  
That Many REFUSE To See As The TRUTH …  
  
THEY ARE TRUE To ME And Help Me To FREE …
The Things That I See In This World Filled With …  
  
……...........… " DREAMS " ………...........
  
That To Me Seem ….. " UNCLEAN " ….. !!!!!!!  
  
They Are Simply The Words …  
That Come From … Big Virge … !!!!!
  
They AREN'T Meant To HARM … !!!!!!  
Like I Said At The Start They Come From My Heart …  
  
And REFLECT On These Things …  
My Future … And Past ………..
Through Poetic Scripts of TRUE Life Lyrics …  
  
Because …. THAT ….  
  
….. " They Are "  ……
As the poem says, they have indeed, become my best friend !
When I've had my two cups
and I'm still in my pyjamas
then
I know it must be Saturday,

(that stay away from work it hurts day)

The mirror hurts most days too,
I look at it
it looks through me
and sees some geriatric
wannabee.

I need
I want
I feed and no more want or need
if anything it's just pure greed,

'enough is as good as a feast'
ConnectHook Sep 2021
1)  Francophone Africa:
Studied Marxism and existential lit.
Obtained work visa to America.
Whined and railed against U.S. imperialism and kapitalism.
Took job at major university bankrolled by Pepsi corporation.
Became U.S. citizen.
Still complaining.

2)  New England:
Affluent suburban life with loving parents.
Went to Ivy League U. Became *****-feminist/marxist artist.
Moved to the Left coast. Used her talents to undermine the patriarchy.
Met successful male entrepreneur.
Became soccer mom in Beserkley.

3)  Midwest cow-town:
Tripped on Leary and Baba Ram Dass.
Followed the dead in a colorful van.
Lived the wannabee hippie life into the 90's.
Traded tie-dye for business suit.
Now manages funds for major investment firm.

4)  Pacific NW:
Raised by single mom. ***-head at 14.
Punk-rock anarchist turned straight-edge Buddhist.
Now a Maoist kindergarten teacher with 401K plan.
Paid vacations to vibrant underdeveloped nations.
Still agitating for revolution.
To be human is to be a SINNER and a HYPOCRITE.
Welcome to the club.
Christ is the only (only) way to salvation.
Dennis Willis Sep 2021
Inside the shell of the shotgun
pellets of metal, universes
wanting dissolute time

riven by wannabee galaxies
still unsure ambitious atoms
chanting with their ionic chums

fields just a thrum crusting
crystal lattices maybe suns
now's solidification on the run

— The End —