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Kevin Trant May 2010
You left nothing, only the Stevens book
That read:  There is not nothing, no, no never…

Nothing and a yellow bicycle:
Two tires on a rickety frame.

When I do pick up a poem,
It’s to hear the gravel cadence of you,

Softer, informed by everything that spins:
A world, a bicycle, a chestnut tumbling

Downhill the city’s painted a roadside path,
My collarbone’s begun to mend.

The house gets drafty late afternoons
So I learn to cook:

Turmeric, cayenne. Hing & coriander.  
cardamom. Cumin & mustard seeds.

Hing’s a pungent flower called asafetida
And corriander’s just cilantro.

Icy fingers spindle wheels on window panes.
I leave the teakettle to boil.

Spokes of trees shiver in the silverish dusk
Taking lessons from everything bare,

I let in the cold to hear
No stones turned in the drive.
Chloë May 2015
Het was herfst en vakantie. En vakantie en herfst.
En het was herfstvakantie.

Blaadjes hingen in de lucht.
Veel blaadjes hingen er, maar vooral veel liefde.
Al hing die niet, maar sprankelde en glinsterde.
Weg zijn de blaadjes en de straatjes van toen, maar kortbij is de liefde van toen en nu.
Die sprankelt en glinstert. Nog altijd, en voor altijd.

Naast elkaar in het busje als twee sterretjes naast elkaar aan een donkere koude hemel.
Het flesje de regen van de nacht.
De popcorn mijn hersens die wegsmolten.
De aanrakingen van lippen de zachte streling van de wind.

Ik denk dat vallende sterren is wat wij zijn.
Wat zijn we anders dan vol vuur en liefde vallend voor elkaar?

                                                                    DREAMYWANDERER
The winter comes; I walk alone,
       I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
       The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please—no bees to hum—
       The coming spring’s already come.

I never want the Christmas rose
       To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
       Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
       ’Tis but the winter garb of spring.

I never want the grass to bloom:
       The snowstorm’s best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
       And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
       O’er snow-white meadows sees the spring.

I love the snow, the crumpling snow
       That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
       Like white dove’s brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
       A vast expanse of dazzling light.

It is the foliage of the woods
       That winters bring—the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
       That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
       Nature’s white spurts of the spring.
C J Baxter Mar 2015
Angst paces around the room gibbering to himself, and scratching the hair off his head. “ I need, I need to find it. Ally’s key… Aye, just the mad hing to lock it”. The door’s been left open for weeks, and the filth has been pouring in relentlessly: “ My Boyfriend was average till he discovered these miracle pills”, “ Icelandic Brides”, “ Think Rich. Be Rich”, “ Wonga: YOU pay when YOU can”, “. It’s all piled up and yet scattered throughout this already cluttered space; mixing in with the mess of the severed heads and rolling eyes. Angst paces through the filth, eating some every other hour. But he carries on searching for the key  ( or the wee hing) he needs to shut all this out and think.

He lights a cigarette from one of the candles on the long table(12 chairs accompany the piece, but there is only one, as there is only need for one just now) and passes the rest of the day watching the smoke swivel into a thumbs up icon or a question mark in a thought bubble( or anything else blue and white). All the while sifting through the filth  for that wee hing’; stopping every hour or so to feed on it.
Little odd, but making sense don't make sense sometimes
Sa atubangan sa balay
Kita nagtagboay
Nagkita sa ilalom sa tulay
Didto ta nagdinasmagay
Ug didto gipatay
Hing uli nag-agaay

Pila kabulan ang hing labay
Kitang duha nag-iponay
Sud-an permi ang kamunggay
Hinay-hinay wa nay timplahay
Ug kitang duha nagpinistihay
Mas maayo pang magpinatyanay

Naguol si tatay
Kay giuli ko nimo sa balay
Sugod ato wa nata nag-ambatanay
Puro na ta bungulanay
Gawas sa siplatay
Ako nagmahay-mahay

Wa dyud nasayop si nanay
Mas maayo pa ang magbunlay
Naay matanom bisan gamay
Kaming tanan mangalipay
Kaysa sa mangilay
Kay naay katagbo sa tulay

Ako diay si Badiday
Apelido ko Diniay
Isog pagka pinay
Di kabalo mo tagay
Ang kusog mo kiay
Sa mga problemang lumalabay
LETITFXRING May 2014
Make m e  beli ev e
I'm b e a u t i f u l beca use I b elie ve I' m n o t
Regretting you g et in side my h e a d wit h eve rythi ng you e v er sa id
Regretting the th ings I di d to cha nge m yself
Ove rt hin kin g; A nd
Reme m ber ing eve ryt hing I we nt th rou gh
He made into a monster
And there are cracks
Because the many times
I've looked at myself
WickedHope Dec 2014
FAILURE.** NO GOOD. NOTHING. WORTHLESS.
LOSER. FAILURE. NO GOOD. NOTHING. WOR
THLESS. LOSER. FAILURE. NO GOOD. NOTHIN
G. WORTH
LESS. LOSE
R. FAILURE.
NO GOOD.
NOTHING. WORTHLESS. LOSE
R. FAILURE. NO GOOD. NOTH
ING. WORTHLESS. LOSER. FAIL
URE.
NO G
OOD. NOT
HING. WO
RTHLESS. L
OSER. FAIL
URE.
NO G
OOD. NOT
HING. WO
RTHLESS.
Failure.
.

She gazed upon †he grea† expanse,
sof† sand hid small †oes on her fee†.
A deser† daisy gen†ly caressed her hands,
†he sunshine made her day comple†e.

She walked alone on this beautiful day.
This li††le angel had jus† †urned seven.
†o ga†her her momma a fresh bouque†,
for some reason has lef† her for Heaven.

Each flower was burdened with a clump of dir†,
I wi†nessed the swee†es† †hing †oday.
I had cried and wiped †ears on my shir†,
when my mind said †o jus† walk away.

"Daddy, can Jesus le† her come ou† †o play?
How do you answer a young girl of seven?
"Jus† like we did †he o†her day."
"We can, when we ge† †o Heaven."




.
Julie Butler Nov 2015
she chewed through my ribs
& attached me to wings

subsistent, pretending
I don't need a thing

she pushed through my body
propelling a shriek

her hand fits me close
& her sleep fit my sheets

but I'm done with she's perfect
I'm shrinking in blinks
& I'm sick of this
balancing stilts built on dreams

& I've stopped all this tripping
my shoes are on tight
but I'll  
fall asleep
hoping
you slept good tonight
>|< Julie Butler
forestfaith Feb 2019
expectations crowded my mind in the days when my desperation was sorta high.
it felt like i fitted in with the rest, fitted into their league of rash lovers and surface swimmers.

it started with a "had enough."
which led to me having to rush and led to my second decision and then it hit me ******* me but yet so soft and subtle--it seemed to be.  

bothering and confusing, assumptions were made.
And they tormented me yesterday and the day before, and the day before....it nearly got me today.

i saw _ again and i chose to shut my eyes, just not completely, i chose to slip by but not ignoring the fact that i knew _ saw me at the corners of _ eye.
i didn't even wave goodbye or smiled a "hi".

sigh, how could i forget, the making of a moon?
a laughter that made me cringe and sin,
a memory that never seems to fade away, a lasting portrait still swings in my mind today.
only when i see _
.

if i don't know i have let _ down already, when _ expected a nicely wrapped gift from me.
my heart and my chest was tied tightly together, and i seem to be unable to breathe, and i seem to pause           only to know that i am sinking in, bre e e eeeeeeeee a t hing in.

i place them into
                               your hands,
                                                      i do not know what will happen, but i am rest assured in your plans.
i pray and hope that you dont have a lot of stress and for your safety!! And happy chinese new year to my fellow friends!! God has been faithful!! PRAISE THE LORD!! God has plans for me, and he knows them through and through.
Ace Malarky Nov 2014
So, you want to be somebody?

When I was your age,
so did I.
I thought I had some secret talent,
so I reached for the sky.
I had everything to do
and forever to do it.
There were adventures for me;
opportunities -- I knew it.
Look at me now -- forty-four
getting old, gaining weight.
I would never have guessed
that this was my fate.
I couldn't get rich and famous,
try as I might
the worst part is that
I did everything right
I had straight As,
I stayed out of trouble,
never once broke the law
(and kind of lived in a bubble)

Well son, where'd I go wrong?
'cause that's the path to success.
Now I rot in an office, barely living
on donuts and gas station coffee -- I digress.
Anyway, no -- stay in school.
The numbers say that you can't, so you won't.
Never chase after daydreams --
Thank me later when you don't.


Okay -- I hear you haven't been doing your homework?

      Listen, son.

They're here to teach you, you;re
hereto obey.
If homework wasnt impooooortant
            would you get it every day??

You see if you dont do your homework, youll get annswers wrong, and wrong is the worstt hing to be,You can   't learn by gettting your testing         testing answers wrong. Your future will be a shotin the dark and youll probablymiss. Okay?

obey.
You know how.
Dorothy Quinn Feb 2014
Someone told me
you can't write (p)oetry ab(o)ut things
you don't want to romanticiz(e).

So for a long (t)ime
(because of w(r)ong people like (y)ou)
I d(i)dn't write drunk,
becau(s)e the(n) I c(o)uldn't
guard my feelings.

But now I'm drunk as hell
and no(t)hing in my life
is close to romantic
and I don't have to explain to you
why (b)oats, oc(e)ans, and words
are the only things
that e(a)se my open wo(u)nds.

I don'(t) have to tell you why
I don't scream or cry or f(i)ght
when I think about how many of my (f)riends
killed themselves.
I write instead,
and it's not romantic.

I am not
in love
with words.

I am
in love
with them
and they're no longer here,
breathing, holding my hand,
and singing me songs about rivers
and how we'll always find each other.

But we won't,
because there's not a
single f(u)cking romantic thing
about how I'll never hold their hands
again.

So I drink,
and I write,
and I do not (l)isten
to people like you.
Stephanie Oct 2018
Even as the words
Tumbled out
I knew I was lost
As if thoughts
Transformed into
Language
Transport me
Instantly
Into
The last forest
Of my childhood

I am on the brink
Waiting to crumble
Waiting for
The right spirit

To catch me

When I
Collapse
Diegó P Siemsen Apr 2020
🧭Ik kan me niet meer voorstellen
     met welke fout het begon.
     Maar ik weet wel dat ik het
     met mijn eigen krachten overwon.

🧭Maar nu weken later
     denk ik echter.
     Doe ik het nou zo beroerd
     of ben ik gewoon niet zo'n vechter.

🧭Want steeds stapje voor stapje
      tikt de klok mij aan.
      Het is zo verwarrend
      *** laat de zal wijzer slaan.

🧭Ik begon in het Nederlands
     maar toen ging ik echter plat.
     naar blijken is ruw zijn
     nog veel erger als glad.

🧭En welke taal ik ook spreek
     of welke ik niet kan verstaan.
     Er is op dit moment gewoon
     geen ene bal meer aan.

🧭Over ballen gesproken
     Rond, groot en klein.
     Maar waarom rolt de mijne niet?
     Het zal wel een ovale zijn.

🧭Of ligt het aan de wind
     en waait hij continue naar west.
     Of hier in het noorden
     werkt dat dan niet best.

🧭Ik kan honderd dingen denken
     maar schijnbaar niet dat ene ding.
     Want waarom val ik in de put
     als ik er daarnet nog boven hing.

🧭Ik denk dat ik een gokje wagen kan:
     het is de innerlijke kracht.
     Ik was overtuigd dat ik sterk was,
     word ik daarom neer gebracht?

🧭En toch ben ik wel overtuigd
     dat ik vol zit met wil en moed.
     Maar dat ik toch nog twijfel
     niet over een ander maar wat ik zelf doet.

🧭Waarom is het in het oosten
     niet zoals in het westen.
     En waarom zijn er boeren
     die zo onlogisch gaan bemesten.

🧭Het hele doel is toch
     om het land goed te maken.
     Waarom zul je dan zonder duidelijkheid
     je mede mens afkraken.

🧭Wat heb ik toch zo fout gedaan
     dat de wereld toch zo doet.
     Nee absoluut ik deed ook fout
     maar, momenteel bedoel ik goed.

🧭Hoop toch dat de mens nu ontdekt
     dat ik veel goed wil doen.
     Maar nogmaals ik begrijp het niet
     waarom is het ineens anders als toen.

🧭Ik bedoel, ik ben ook maar mens
     Iedereen maakt toch weleens een fout?
     Of ben ik de enige
     zonder peper of zout?

🧭Had graag willen weten
     wat de echte reden was.
     Maar waar ik ook woon, merk ik
    dat ik leef zonder duidelijk kompas.

🧭With full heart: Diegó. P. Siemsen.🧭
Mijn leven met veel pijn maar zonder duidelijkheid, ik hoop dat iedereen zich hierbij inleven kan.
you
n i perceive reality in our own view
too
how the world a skew

and each rue
while mind each "p" n "q"
of societal mores mebbe at a pew
or in a car brand new

that purrs like a "meow"
or even on the loo
'bout a lover ye knew
thinking of gentile or jew

now tis that does hew
a friendship that mite grew
cuz quality gals so far n few
like finding a miniature red
   white striped emu
like eeyore - feel in ivy blue.
---------------------------------------

sorry for all dis bather
   me lass of an heart felt ace
& hope no words o mine base
so lemme cut to the Chevy driven chase

to relish c ying ur face
yi yi yippee - thy grace
****** desires to gather
   at what e'er pace

cuz dis haint no race
for us to trace
an arc &
   compete with lovers
   that for e'er frieze on grecian vase.
---------------------------------------

which day
whether sunny or gray
as high r low clouds lay
like pair a moors

   or nags in may
would be okay
to...play
oye vay
and enjoy
   hot ravenous ja way?
---------------------------------------

this chap aint no a rod
   knee nor danger
concocting a fiction
   be yin born in a manger
neither does he don
   role of ranger
thou veritable stranger

THOUGH A VERITABLE UNKNOWN GAL 2 ME
NONETHELESS, I MUST BE GOING STIR CRAZY FOR YOU! ™

---------------------------------------

hi yam hankering Asian urge gent wuss
celibate lee  married, a zealous adult tour us
desires to tuss
sill with a female,
   no not necessarily
   her coiled n kinked

   hair to muss
nor special outfit to fuss
i try not to ******* cuss
nor cause no trouble
   if aboard the digital bus.
---------------------------------------
PLEASE be patient with him. In due time, his ability to calm down and control the erectile fusillade will chime with YOUR ******.

HE well deserves to end this celibate state and get requisite COMEUPPANCE!
---------------------------------------
Hello Sin Come on In!

I thoroughly enjoy plying (like a baker kneading dough) these slender and smallish fingers at the juncture of neck and shoulders. As many cumulative kinks would be ironed out. Muscles and tendons on either side of the spine (from stem to stern) privy to tender loving care. Special emphasis would be given to any particularly sore area. Perhaps an especially noticeable ache exists along the upper or lower back? Just the appropriate amount of (gentle) pressure - from the heal of one hand or the other - called into action.

Might forearms or biceps be in sore need of massage? Gluteus Maximus saddle sore? How about thighs? Any other parts of your anatomy require skin nourishment? This willingness to manipulate knotty points of tension offered for passionate physical *******. Game? No need to think this hum bull guy wood MONOPOLIZE you NOR doth ye need to feel SORRY if nada one iota of interest exists!
---------------------------------------
unsure...
  
what this free thinker
   who lives ~10 miles north east
   of valley forge, penna ought to write
also not knowing
   if rambling comes a
   cross as trite

maybe filled with angry under
   panting tones awash
   with spittle and spite
veering considerably
   left of political right

which liberal democratic
   leanings correct quite
   an attempt to come across
   as mature and polite

hoping to induce interest
   to get together
   some day or night
discussing topics
   profound or light

or...letting sexually intimate
   fantasies (of mine)
   take supersonic flight
restoring darkened psyche
   with high octane
   self generated energy bright.

only one finger
used to hen peck
and types this
four tee billionth acre

doth, dis dude
real soon will take a break
eat sum petrified cake
like an ancient yodel,
ring ding or drake

interestingly enough
can cure any earache
with nary an edible flake
mebbe jump in a

poker face booked - mud flat lake
steal away imagining to make
out with you,
a moist meaty milky shake.

i yam ma nada trip pin
jist over dose sin
n wanna marry gin.

star-date = 9999 anno domino;
time = 1700: 39:_ pm

u r a be u tee
only in imaginary will i see
u re joy sing -
for me
as glee
from one male sassy thee
sets passions free.

like one pac man on a roll
   bell ringing canon,
   fast moving caboose
or mad as hell
   headless goose

this josh hing drake
   haint butta loose
goose
whereby moose

uh d utter creatures
   tink i lack mental juice
i.e. ja dat - right duh gray matter
   of dis knit wit,

   the "infamous" deduce
cob bulled with
   whirled wide web
   peppered with rotten cous cous
& find my rye ting
   an absolute nuisance
ready to call doktor Zeus.
When juiced a spore sized embryo, early in utero; fetus
   evinces atavistic miniaturization,
   where nascent differentiation wrought
physical resemblance to - seek reachers,
   sans Tarzan and Jane forebears,
   or exemplification of religious embodiments writ upon taut
lee helical real to reel strung nano deoxyribonucleic acid,
   where dome min ant
   ander recessive traits pop sic cull, and/or mom genes sought
took comb hing gull, where foxy fiery hander chrome hat tick
   microscopic threads ineluctably
   hired bot to weave warp and woof for naught
heard interpretive soundcloud issue onomatopoetic beat,
   whether as:
   the Marseillaise, muezzin, or reveille blown in the wind
   by alimentary mechanic, *** killed in all manner of ought  
   tow mobile craftsmanship, which possibly inflated and made pregnant,
   when one seem n
thrashes within timed zona pellucida drawbridge,
   hooping an ova to snag,
   though odds stacked against the most basic cell fish competition fought
in the **** z of evolutionary biology informing **** sapiens
   one errant or defiant game gamete perhaps hinting a gamine
tubby wonderfully woven with wisps viz The Idler Wheel Is Wiser
   than the Driver of the ***** and Whipping Cords Will Serve You
   More than Ropes Will Ever Do a ha at last that renegade oocyte
   nabbed, analogously the Michael Phelps re: among the flagellated
   madding crowdsource qua squirming *****-faction caught
thence the commencement when trappings for a newborn bought
   years later reviewing prenatal sonograms with grown son or daughter
   pointing out how he/she editorialized, epitomized, and exemplified
   in miniature (no bigger than any letter of the alphabet),
   and closely resembled many creatures extant throughout the briny deep
   such as an amphibian, reptile or Argonaut.
mine myopic eyes stare intently in2 cyberspace
folk kiss my sing song snap chat ting
mine eyes fixated b4 ur image seconds erase
with an exclamation of eureka a ha -
u look familiar at least yar face
mebbe we both lived during the same time
centuries ago, eh
perhaps in adjoining caves some place
and/or dashed off the starting line of tha human race.

this yo dull ling josh hing glute max a mess ****
tooting ring ding oof a max i mus drake
haint named bruce
boot ah do like the taste of cous cous
what the deuce
as i goose
step wit a ***** loose
whereby bull winkle the moose
n natasha the squirrel plus otter creatures
tink i lack mental juice
er purr haps goot a ***** el loose
i.e. ja dat - right duh gray matter
of dis knit wit "infamous" noose

cents, sum hmm iz amiss
from dis indigent guy
still lugged in a papoose
cob bulled with whirled wide web
peppered with rotten green tomatoes -
prompting n immediate VAMOOSE
& find my rye ming ting ab
solute zero in chime with zee cuckoo
ready 2 call up doktor demento ore zeus.

thus, this friendship introduction
will mutual ideally nada blow
based on ma unseen essence of body, mind
& soul moreso than dough
i.e. money, which tends
2 be a superficial criteria
viz assess worthiness to flow
toward greater comprehension
akin 2 a garden
that requires one 2 **** din ***
thus, this common non sloppy joe
maw owl ease keeps 2 himself i.e. ya know
a contemplative sort & writes ha low

2 you crossing fingers
no immediate aversion arises,
yet an emphatic "no"
toward me would be taken
in stride per this poe
it, whose ability finds comfort
within the simple pleasures
of life while invisible 1 that doth row
this creaky human vessel,
yes on occasion calls out 4 a big tow.

mebbe as a d liver e purse son
2 supplement social security income
(this disability 4 generalized anxiety)
within me gray matter doth lay.
Chalsey Wilder Jun 2016
Your words are flushing hue.
America's government doesn't care about the innocent and will continue to flush them down, as if they're **** in a toilet.
History contends that on that score
hing hot summer at 6:00 pm June sixteenth
in the year 666 after the Devonian era,
two lovers - a Mister Belmont Me

and Missy Bryn Mawr Hu felt the call
of the wild within the wilderness
in ****** hinterlands of Penn Valley
and supposedly got cannibalized

by a Hottentot Mailer Daemon named
Manayunk Yahoo. All plugged stoppers
got pulled as the passionate children
of Mother Nature and Jethro Toll

rumbled, fumbled, bungled in
the jungle, and shook the firma
ment echoing subterranean cat a
combs with their private feral

Carnival antics.The ensuing Millennium
spawned one bizarre tale after
another each appending a more
farfetched tail spinning embellish
ment from the preceding legend.

Mary Waters ford considered as
the first person to record the shroud
of mystery lurking in the hollows
of sleepy hills, which rumor harbored
this legend of lost Lower Merion lovers.

Even to this day (one eerily similar
at that fateful bewitching hour)
one can hear the blood curdling
and hair-raising bacchanalia under
ground Brahmins deep pounding
beets on their crude ovens deep
purple within the bowels of the Earth.

Many believe present day tremors
that line the main tract hearken
Earth linked presence of sinning
wood nymphs and elfin grots continually

being birthed within many gnarled rocks
causing groundswell similar to
a Welsh Valley overtaken by hocked
conch blowing Harridans. Some
of these hardy adherents corn beef

hash tagged as unprintable expletives,
whose self-righteousness bound
by unwavering assertions of Woody
Woodpecker apparition. Visages of
fearsome flesh eating muscle bound

underground golems toting haversacks
as big as a town (surpassing the likes
of 1148 Matthew’s rolled into one)
sustains longevity of ogres not even

all the brooms could sweep away far
as next square rush new town. Although
rarely seen, but more often heard
tectonic vibrations that shake and bake

like local crowded house special chicken
Radnor (often cleft fissures upon flint ******
layers of bedrock comprising Delaware Valley)
infuses imagination of (top notch pugilists)

bravely ventured into this haunted haven
and vanished without a trace. Most likely
their fate became a gourmet meal i.e. tasty
as Salad Augustus with seven season Caesar dressing.
TreadingWater Nov 2015
wrapped on your lap;
eyes-caught\sharing- breaths
squeeze press.heels.to.your.back
one thumb pressed to my hip
while/your/fingERs/slide/inside

...nails/break/skin...
moUths locked in a kiss;...
my hand pulls your hair//
~fingers~TangLed~
the other,...
holding on-foR-dear-life.
digging//in

ribs-to-chest
~pressing~into~yoU~
^^breaThing^^labored^^
­puLLing-you-in...
and...in
...and
in (sidE//deepeR)

Biting yo(my)ur lip
pUsh-me-to-the-bed
mouth, taking, over, where
   fing//ers//be//gan
puLl.your.teeth.closer
~so~lost~in~the~moment ~
pulsing cosmic tendRils
of explosive t.a.n.g.e.r.i.n.e.
throughout all of my
...being.

anD i never need another
thing;... again
except.thIs.moment.
~as~you~reveal~
...my
cOmplete...
sur//reN//der.
Ridges cut sliver thin
etched inner folds  
with iron flint.
A mold once smoldered,
crimson, no longer.
Cooled, bent to the hing
A locket
466
i co uld be somet hing or no thing ether way this i s ev ery th in g
offers his unsolicited tidbits
as scene courtesy
the following virtually
staged philosophical insight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joyfulness keeps love moving
needling offset predilections.

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

Always maintain benevolent devotion
forswearing greediness.

Invoke keepsake mandating
omnipotent natural personal righteousness
to vaccinate yourself against
heinous, nefarious, pernicious,
et cetera rapacious
trapdoors of selfishness.

*Hing or heeng is the Hindi word for asafetida (sometimes spelled asafoetida). It's also been known as the devil's dung and stinking gum, as well as asant, food of the gods, jowani badian, hengu, ingu, kayam, and ting. It is a dark brown, resin-like substance that is derived from the root of ferula.
E Sep 2013
does it look like i need you in my life?
i have everything under control, thank you very much.
there is really nothing you could do to help me.
i've got this, okay.
look, everything is not okay
Tom Fiddle Oct 2015
It's quite peaceful
To be in nature.
It's also gets
Boring cause nothing
Happens,
sometimes you need this.
Sometimes you need
*** and soda,
With some ice and a hing
Of lime.

It's like a dance,
You know.
Life seems to move
From good to bad
From bad to good.

It's a trip

And like all trips it
Has an end.
And also a middle
And maybe this trip comes
With free drinks, drugs
And love to go around.

****

— The End —