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Caleb Eli Price Dec 2011
Can you turn it down?
Loves on turbo, hearts destruction,
Willing partner needs eruption.
Love is rivers, I might drown.

Can you turn it up?
Souls construction isn't flowing,
Welcome warmth is ever knowing.
Love is wine and you're the cup.

Can you still be more?
Satisfaction guaranteed,
Whether chained or will be freed.
Love is knocking at the door.

Can you have it all?
Handled well but simulated,
Diamond eyes were stimulated.
Love, so handsome, shall it fall.

Can you die tonight?
Left in bliss, and still tuxedoed,
Warm expansions, then I'm vetoed.
Love, or is it loveless flight.
L Seagull May 2017
Hectic morning
Lovingly frustrating
Adrenaline rush as ever
My edgy morning self
Not enough songs
Then choices vetoed
It's frozen again
Letting it go before I lose my mind
Crepes for breakfast black tea
Lunch boxes unbrushed teeth
Morning kisses goodbye
Comfortable smooches and a shot of warmth
From ever caring husband
Simple
Then rush to the doctor
Cute middle eastern girl
Head wrap so feminine
Young slender body
Pretty smile
Innocently talking me into full check
With dermatologist
Hell why not
Oh man
Young man
Oh man don't you ******* flirt with me
Before removing my gown
Oh ****
Flashback 10 years ago
How I hated those ******* ***** faces
Flashback public pool in turkey
Eleven years old
Some blue eyed *******
Out stretching his limbs
In a most perversely uncomfortable way
Pretending it's a game
Then rushing to share with friends
Here laughing
Hello to my first adrenaline rush
Ashamed to tell my parents
I'm still here
He is a doctor isn't he?
No worries
He's covered by insurance
******* middle eastern beach
Need a drink
Waiter flirting
Stop looking me in the eye
You old looser
Am I hot?
******* ******* for asking that question
With that ******* expression
Adrenaline is still here
Here to stay because it's nice to be nice
And how I hate those ******* guys
Random
Neville Johnson Dec 2020
Doc Umentary wanted to make a film with Melody Maker, but his cameraman, Slim Chance, vetoed it because Jack Hammer, Charlie Horse and Steve Dore insisted on being involved. They were all drinking at the Round House owned by Phil I. Buster, managed by Tom Boy who periodically had to stand up to the unruly patron, Marshall Law and his pal,   Checkpoint Charlie. Sitting in the rear was ***** Nilly hanging out to with Will Call, phone by his side. Tess Osterone mingled and hit on Art Syfartsy.
Also vying for his attention was Pat Sies, Miss Match, Vi Rus, Merry Christmas and Quiche Lorraine, who always claimed she was hungry but never had the money to pay for dinner.
Uh oh, in walks Ty Tanic and his bodyguard, Vin Dicate. They buttonholed Frank Lee Speaking telling him to shut is trap. Vic Trola and Ray Dio intervened. “He was only having fun,” they chimed. Watching intently was Amazing Grace who also tried to calm the situation.
Sol Vang was surprised to see Con Descending, who arrived with Sir Viver. They sat with Marine Layer and Nick O’Teen who blew smoke rings for attention. Minnie Apolis brushed off **** Ta, who said he rather sit with
Miss Demeanor any way. Polly Graph, a real operator, got drunk with Ty Oneon, and had to be driven home by Des Ignate.
Out on a limb went Douglas Fir, egged on by Tom Foolery, who in turn was backed by General Denial, just as Claire Voyant predicted. The lazy N. Tropy picked at the food table presided over by Al A. Carte. Peg Leg couldn’t stand it any longer so she begged Hans Down to find her a seat. She was happy to sit with Erin Gobraugh, Morgan Car and Tom Collins.
Dee Escalate backed away form Mal Evolent and his **** friend, Rock Bottom. P. Nut munched on the table food, a garrulously chatted up Dan Ube who mention his great travel with Marv Elous and his gal, ***** Pack.
Perry Patetic was everywhere, dancing with Patty Cakes, laughing with Tim Buktu, and claimed he had an invited to the affair, which when he said so, Al Ibi, shook his head.” Did I mention that Scott Free was seen with Buck Teeth? They were paired with Deb Enture and Ray Vaughn, who raved about the quality of the people there: from Flora N. Fauna to Dolly Grip, to Hal I. But, and the seemingly ever-shrinking Morris Minor.
Herb Dressing and his sweet potato Ida ** dined outdoors with Al Fresco, the always great to see Stu Pendous, and the charlatan 3 Card Monte. Jim Beam got inebriated and couldn’t remember the same of his cousin, Phil in Deblanc. Colin Oscopy made an *** of himself, only to be topped by the show-off Cliff Hanger.
Earnest Money carped about deals gone south. Reed Thin seemed to get along pretty well with Daisy Chain, who batted away her date, Ron de Vouz. Clyde S. Dale horsed around with Will Power who had stopped buttering up Polly Unsaturated.
Cara Van and Ava Tar tried to get Tim Id to come out of his shell, which he did once Cardinal Sin chatted him up. Will Reading asked Count Les Opportunities for recommendations on his finances.
Hazel Nut savored the bon mots of Vera Fi. Donny Brook somehow ended up with Hope Diamond who was looking good. Del Taco scarfed with the religious Gen Uflect, next to Moe Hican and Ren A. Gade, who was dressed as a cowboy.
Ruth Less made a beeline to Georgia Peach, pitted against Frank Incense. Dusty Roads told stories to Ginger Ly, and that Southen gent, Beau Regard, with his date Rose Colored Glasses.
Mark Mywords spoke of dictionaries he adored, which bored immensely Ann O’Rexia  and Juan Dice.
Al Gorhythm had it all figured out. Buzz Cut agreed. Victoria Columbia just wanted to go home.
Body electric zapped
lower gastrointestinal tract
wracked with wretchedness
pitted, rocked, and tortured
severe muscle spasms cramp
deathly hallowed deliverance

beseech divine creator to exorcise relief
any panacea trumpeted vetoed
pestilential nausea diarrhea
wreaks relentless havoc
horrid ordeal twists insides
lack strength to live

breathing a laborious effort
bedrest temporarily alleviates
generally healthy ironclad junket
weatherbeaten rickety ship of state
restorative sought trouncing unwell
corporeal self against torture

assailing, castrating,
and drubbing existence
avocations ordinarily promulgating
resplendent joie de vivre
squelched, scotched, and sabotaged,
courtesy minuscule mailer daemons

emotions unlikely culprit,
though times gone by anxiety
tindered, pitched, and kindled
abominable irritable bowel syndrome
prescription medication tempered
badgering, crippling, and debilitating

panic attacks plagued this primate
manifesting feeble endeavor
to experience poignant satiation,
asper simple pleasures nonexotic
endeavors merely passively living
as one organic carbon based

human being finding fulfillment
meditating, reading, and writing,
now fleeced, deprived, and blitzed
suspicious disagreeable provender
perhaps lactose intolerance

after enjoying pizza birthday
fours days prior
celebrating chronological centenary,
sans one frail resident here,
Highland Manor Apartments
suddenly, I feel chill o' rigor mortis!
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
there is only
  one that is;

forbidden
   restricted
prohibited  
banned
proscribed
vetoed
ruled out
interdicted
outlawed
not permitted
not allowed
  illegal
illicit
unlawful
impermissible
not acceptable
frowned on
beyond the pale
off limits
out of bounds
unmentionable
unspeakable
unutterable
ineffable
censored
indecorous
verboten
haram
  tapu
an informal no-go...

   and that
is you.

        admittedly
   my mind is
often decorated
      with you

but i lament....

   you are taboo.
KV Srikanth Feb 2021
Act or Thought
Karma ball rolling
Slowpy Rink
Good or Bad
Finds it's way back

Act of Malice
Intent intact
Dont react
Ability limited

Wish no harm
Calm before a Storm
Karma never misses
An Address
The way of the Universe

Act of good
An act of God
Pure by defenition
Pay it forward

Value power
Given by god
Limited in time
Tables turn
Always do

Revenge natural
Thought process
Akin to Alcohol
Gives you a high
Reality a downer

Karma gives
Interest calculated
Comes when
Least expected
Valued in a currency
Not issued by a country
Has it's own system
Delayed or Denied
Not fathomable
By Mankind

Instant Or Suspended
Postponed or Deffered
Vetoed never
Knocks again
And again

Get served
What you deserve
Sit back and watch
You have no Choice
Freedom in action
None in Repentance

Not for but by
Karma swings by
Create your drama
Live your Karma
Sow the seed
Thought or deed
Goes its route
Funny way of
Coming back enroute

Karma theory
Nothing to believe
Playbook available
Hardbound copy
Single Edition
Without exception
Comes to fruition

No one is watching
Biggest mistake
No witnesses
Your take
Dodged a bullet
Mental ballet
Envelope delivered
Return to Sender
Equal in size
The Postman always rings Twice
Chandra S Jul 24
Why do I feel for them?

Is it because
they remind me
of me—
these bacteria?
They move slowly.
They hide out.
Build small.
Stay unnoticed.

They’ve been with me
longer than I’ve known.
And they don’t have an intent
to ****.
They just wanted a home.
That I might die
was never their goal.
It’s just a fallout.

But me?
I have intent to ****.
Every day I wake up
and take pills
like they were warheads.
The pill has no motive to **** either.
No ammo does.
It is always the man behind.
The pill—
It is just a chemical configuration
that doesn’t know why it dissolves.

I take note of the dynamic.
The one without intent dies.
The one with, decides.
I pop the pill.
Then it's the germ versus the pill.
Germ survives, I die.
Pill survives, I live.

Wonder where else I have seen this.

Nations— vetoed into silence?
Children— bullied into submission?
Friends— who were docile, forgotten?
Me— or someone like me—
who took a call.

It is strange to feel
unspoken companionship
with microbes that ****?
Will it feel strange
when they’re gone?

I think about that.
Like how people trying to quit
miss their cigarettes.
Not just the nicotine—
the mateyness with the stick—
Here just now. Then gone.

Will I feel that?
A weird kind of postpartum?
Not grief, exactly.
But absence.
Silence where something lived.
Once.

I think illness does this to people.
Brings delirious thoughts, that is.
Imagine befriending or mourning bacteria
or weighing up their intent
in your right minds. Eh.

Why did they choose me though?
Because, I too am quiet, like them?
It angers me to think.
Then I feel a tired, grudging respect for them,
as if finally learning self-respect.

They, the bacilli, have no malice.
They don’t even know I exist.
They don’t feel guilt.
Or regret.
They just are.

But I have to end them.
Each day.
Like heartbreak.

I wonder if they could speak,
what would they say?

Maybe nothing.

Maybe like monks in the hills,
they’d bow and whisper,
“We only came to live.”

And I would say back,
quietly,
almost ashamed,

“So did I.”
I wrote this in recognition of the sometimes inevitable necessity to eliminate one life form so that another can go on. The illness in question isn't named because the dilemma isn’t about diagnosis. It’s about intent. About the strange position of having to end something that never meant harm. Of being the only one at the table with a mind, and a choice, and the unbearable clarity of consequence.
The poem tries to sit with this discomfort: that sometimes, survival means killing without hate. That the enemy may not even know you exist. That war can be fought not with weapons, but with a glass of water and a pill. And that even in such silence, there can be a murmur. A bit like grief.
kevin Apr 26
attempts by owners of guilt
to intervene with the passing of private documents
all homeless are required to have private servants possibly
by choice in the creation of their own voice

the contempt is vetoed expertly by governor

check mate


kendall?  a walk and a thought?
Ami Mathur Sep 7
Crystal castle of magical spells.
Unbothered by the winds that swell
Windows watched shadows-two;
Near that well.
I am dying in love...
A heaven like hell.
In the name of spirit.
I called upon—
A being antique.

It whispered
I saw that lyrical queen—
In the banquet – a musical unrest
I saw something unexplained.
A Soul -unfounded
My heart ready to exchange.

Music acted a theater—
The hall vetoed in its favour.
Violins on the beats
Trumpets on the strum.
Drums were the lead
The singers to hum...

Then, in a minutes few.
Flowers gazed —
The spectacular you.
Those shadows danced
Their heart out.
Without wearing their shoe.

No space;
On my scratched paper
And,
What to post more.
In these letters new.
Bygone is not gone.
Thy heart;
I melt for you...

— The End —