Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
jake aller Dec 2019
Snarling Cup of Coffee    




I like to start my day with a hot cup of coffee
I pound down the coffee
First thing I do every day
as the dawning sun
Lights up my lonesome room

Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but a ******* snarling sarcastic smarmy cup of coffee

I mean, - we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, ******, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ***, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, ****** vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists,

Zoroastrians, drinking my god ****** coffee in Hell;

growling, gnarly, happy, hard as ice, Hawaian blessed, high as a kite, hippie, hip, hipster, hip hoppy, hot as hell yet strangely sweet as heaven, jazzy, jealous, Kerouac approved, kick ***, kick my ******* *** to Tuesday, kick down the doors and take no prisoners, grown in the Vietnam highlands by exVietcong, Guatemalan grown, kiss ***, illegal in every state, imported from all over the ******* world,

insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, *******, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced ****** corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved,

paranoid, pornographic, psychotic, pontific, politically aware, rapping, rhyming, right here, right now in River city, rock and roll up the Yazoo, sad, sadistic, sarcastic, sassy, satanic, schizoid, *******, silly, ****, smarmy, smelly, smooth, snarky, snarling, stupid, stinking, sweet as honey, sweat inducing, symphonic, Trump can’t handle this coffee, vengeful, Wagnerian, wicked, with nutmeg and cinnamon swirls, with a hint of stevia, with a hint of vanilla, with a hint of ***, with a hint of whisky, with a hint of cherry, with a hint of fruit overtones, with a hint of drugs spicing up the coffee, spendific, speeding, splendid, superior accept no substitutes, survived the Vietnam war, the Iraq war, the Afghan war, the first and Second Korean war, World War 11, the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on black people, the ****** revolution,

Soulful as a summer’s night in MOTOWN- James Brown approved, TOP approved, Berkeley approved, the coffee that Jimmy Hendrix drank before he died, the coffee that Elvis drank on his last breakfast, the coffee that Barry White crooned as he drank his cup of coffee – and the coffee that made the white boy play stand up and play that funky music, the coffee that made Jonny B Goode play his guitar, and made Jonny bet the devil his soul after he drank his morning cup of righteous coffee and the coffee that make the Rolling Stones Rock and Roll, the coffee your mother warned you against drinking, the coffee that Napoleon drank when he became the Emperor of all Europe, the Coffee that Beethoven drank when he wrote the Ninth symphony, the coffee that Mozart drank as he wrote his last symphony, the coffee that Lincoln drank before he was killed, the Hemingway drank before he killed himself, the coffee that started the 60’s, and ended the 20th century,

the coffee that Lenin drank as he plotted revolution, the coffee that ****** and Stalin drank with FDR as they divided up the world after World War 11, the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his *** to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical,

Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee   
As I pound down that first cup of coffee
And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies
Of caffeine induced neuron enhancing chemicals

I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear
I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair

Lying through their perfect blazing white teeth
about the great success the government is having
Following the great leader's latest pronouncements

I want to scream
and shoot the TV
and run out side

Shouting
Stop the world!
I want to get
off this ******* crazy planet"

The earth does not care a whit
about my attitude problem

It merely shrugs
and moves around the Sun
In its appointed daily run

the universe whispers
in my ear
time to drink more coffee
for an attitude adjustment

And I sit down
The madness dissipating a bit
And enjoy my second cup
Of heaven and hell
In my morning cup of Joe

Coffee Revolutions



coffee cup
Coffee led to the American Revolution<span
As patriots drank coffee
To rebel against
the aristocratic English tea

Coffee started the London Stock Market
And started the gossip mills running
Every great invention
Was fed by coffee's sweet brew
sweet allure

All the great thinkers
All the great leaders
All were enslaved
to coffee's magic

I sing my praises
Of the great
glorious coffee lady

Long may she continue
To be my sweet companion

Long may coffee continue
To rule my heart
And set my heart
on fire

Ode to Coffee



Mistress of sacred love
Sacred lady of desire

You start my day
Setting my heart on fire
With your dark delicious brew 

And throughout the day
Whenever the mean old blues come by
You chase them away

With your bittersweet ambrosial brew
Every time I inhale your witch's brew

I am filled with power, light and love
And everything is al right Jack
If only for a few fleeting minutes

I love you oh coffee goddess
In all your magical forms

In the dark coffee of the dawning day
In the sizzling coffee in the mid morning break
In the afternoon siesta break
And in the post dinner desert drink

I love you my coffee mistress
You are my refuge
From this horrid world

And you are my secret lover
Never disappoint me, ever
I've never had a bad cup
Of that I can be sure

Even the dismal coffee
Served at Denny's at 3 am
Is still sweet loving coffee

Even the farmer brother's diner coffee
Excites me and gets me going
Asking for another cup of divine delight

Coffee always is there
It is always on and piping hot
With hidden dark secrets
Swirling in its liquid essence

Coffee is my last vice
My only legal vice left

Coffee does not cheat on me
It is always faithful, always true
It does not turn on its friends

And all it asks in return
Is that you come back
Cup after cup after cup

A good cup of coffee
Is a little bit of heaven
In a cup of dark liquid hell

Coffee is like a drug
But a good drug that does what is should
And never complains

It does not get grouchy
It does not hurt you

It does not make you crazy
But allows the muse to come out
And play with it

Coffee led to the American Revolution
As patriots drank coffee
To rebel against the aristocratic English tea

Coffee started the London Stock market
And started the gossips mills running

Every great invention
Was fed by coffee's sweet brew
sweet allure

All the great thinkers
All the great leaders
All were enslaved to coffee's magic

Yeah
I sing my praises
Of the great glorious coffee lady

Long may she continue
To be my sweat companion

Long may coffee continue
To rule my heart
And set my heart on fire

I love thee
Mistress coffee
And sometimes I think
You love me too

No More Coffee Blues








I love coffee
Always have

And coffee has loved me back
But lately I have soured on her
Soured on the whole coffee scene

On the harshness
of the morning brew
And the promises it makes

As I sip of its nectar
Drawn into its lair

Drinking drop by drop
As the caffeine takes over

Rewriting my every nerve
Turning me into a slave
For its perverted pleasure

Yes I love coffee
But I am afraid

Coffee is a harsh mistress
Demanding so much of me

Promising the sun
And delivering the moon

As I drink her swill
Deepening under her influence

I have the coffee blues
Can’t live without her
Can’t live with her

I try
But tea does not cut it
Not really

***** does not do it
At least not in the morning

Yoga is not enough of a buzz
Nor is the runner’s high

And I am afraid deadly afraid of *******
And speed and drugs and energy drinks

And so I remain a slave to coffee
My only legal drug

As I sip another
and fall under
her seductive spread

Once more failing my resolve
To skip coffee for that day
That morning that moment

I shall never be free of her spell
Ever and she knows it
As she beckons me
Every morning with her intoxicating smell

And I come to her
and drink her brew

And become her slave
again and again

Coffee Ya Du





must drink coffee
have every day
the morning dawns
drinking my coffee as I yawn

Morning cup of coffee 



every morning
I drink my coffee
as I contemplate 
the dawning day

watching the news anchors
blather on and on
drinking my coffee
thinking of life

and my coffee
consumes me
overwhelms me
and at time controls me

after all coffee is a drug
and I am her slave
from time to time

Drinking Coffee in the Morning



in the morning
dangerous mood
felling deranged
watching the news

trigger warning
you are ******* dude
end of the world
the end times come

I drink coffee
in the morning



Coffee *** Killed





His wife has banned my use
by my owner
says he makes too much
of a mess when he uses me

it is not his fault
I want to say
but being a coffee ***
can not speak

and so I am abandoned
thrown out into the trash

and feel very sad
for my owner

who was my friend
he liked me

he keep me going
and I did my job

providing him
with fresh coffee

doing my coffee *** duty
and now it is over

Drinking My Coffee


drinking coffee

drinking my coffee
early in the cool morning
thinking life is fine

everything will be okay
after I drink my coffee

morning coffee



morning coffee

dawning sun 











coffee MGur Poem


coffee

I pray to the coffee gods
every cup of coffee
is like a sacrament to me

I pray as I drink my coffee
that it will fill me
with wisdom

and find peace
with my coffee

as I drink
my devotion

Hot coffee


cup of coffee


take coffee with you
Hot hot coffee, makes my day -

Must drink My daily coffee, as the morning dawns - 

With out my morning coffee

in me,  I feel nothing at all -

Electrified Hot Coffee



coffee is the drug of choice
nothing else will do it
as I drink coffee
Electrified
Hot Coffee

Hot Coffee and Cake


coffee
coffee is the drug of choice
electrified circuits
as I drink coffee
coffee and cake



Coffee Patina



coffee
hot coffee
hot Hellish Heaven
Essence of coffee
the rest of the coffee poems can be found at
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2016
The rumors are true,
Nighttime crowds, hand stuffed hoodies.
Blah blah blah. Yada yada yada.
V neck t-shirts with decals printed on the back of them.
Sweatshirts. Loose cargo shorts.
The holiday of photo galleries captured between blinking eyes.
Tickets sold half priced.
Too bad movies aren't the way they used to be.
A stigma that everything around changes.
A few empty seats, one empty stall in the men's bathroom.
A exclusively graphic depiction of unzipped blouses, unbuttoned  pants.
Toilet tissue stuck to the bottom of worn shoes.
Suddenly there's a tote for whatever bag that needed to be held.
But then again we're just chatting, aren't we. Two souls with nothing to do but vandalize each other's mind.
Blah blah blah. Yada yada yada.
Mujhe wo aksar kehta tha
Muhabat kuch nhi hoti

Hijar ka khauf be matlab
Wasl k khwab bemani

... Nighaoon main koi soorat
Kahan din rat rehti hai

Usy q khamoshi kahain
K jis main bat rehti hai

Wo ankhain kaisi hoti hain?
Jahan barsat rehti hai

Yeh ansu bezaban ansu
Bhala kya bol saktay hain

Or uski narm palko pe nami
Din rat rehti hai

Mujhe wo aksar kehta tha
Mohabbat kuch nahi hoti

Magar jab aj barson bad
Main ne usko dekha hai

K uski jheel ankho main
Hijar ka khof rehta hai

Wasl k khwab rehtay hain
Wahan barsat rehti hai

Yun lagta hai k barson se
Wo soya v nahi shayad

Yun lagta hai kisi ki yada barson se
Usy din rat rehti hai

Or uski narm palkon pe
Haseen saay be geelay hain

Or uski khamoshi aisi k
Jis main bat rehti hai

Mujhe ab wo nahee kehta
Muhabat kch nahee hoti.
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
Web- skdisro.weebly.com
[email protected]
Follow me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
Homunculus Dec 2015
All my poems are
The same, aren't they?
"You're being lied to by a corrupt,
Imperialistic government,
Corporations own your soul,
We're destroying the planet's
Natural resources, making
It uninhabitable, to ourselves and
Driving other species to extinction,
Capitalism is unethical, and
It subverts the potential
For real democracy,
Yada yada yada yada
Blah blah blah"



Maybe I should write about
Something else, but what?

I like flowers,
Flowers are nice,
Especially orchids, but
Not those weird,
Smelly ones that grow
On Callery trees... no
Those things reek like
Stale **** and sour milk.
Ah, but who could deny
The pungent and delicate
Fragrance of a rose?
Someone with anosmia,
That's who.
What, you didn't
Stop to think about,
People with disabilities?
How incredibly
Inconsiderate!
What are you?
Some sort of
Overprivileged, straight,
White, cis male ableist?
*******, you ******,
You might as well
Be a fascist. I would
Tell you to go back
To **** Germany, but
HEY, NEWS FLASH,
It's 2015, buddy,
Grow up and join
Us adults here in
The real world.
Wait... where was
I going with this?
A healthy bit of self criticism can always be helpful.
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2017
~ For Eliot York~
& Sally and Patty m
who convinced me to post it


The answer my friend is
but one,
just one.

Blessed are those who bless you.
I say it.
20 times a day,
and sometimes 2000


I have lived this life,
afraid to fail,
and in doing so,
in deed, because of it,
failed repeatedly.

yada, yada, yada,
in a gadda
da vida,
baby,
don't you know that I'll always be true.

nine lifetimes
all, longtime gone,
yet, I still talk among you all,
for which the
requiring, surviving,
is
a tiny tablet daily,
of swallowed pride, history and
adult/e/rated luck.

omnipotent natural forces,
pretend to manage human affairs
most unnaturally,
sandy gods of wind and storm
bring dämmerung's
Sturm und Drang.

these forces are the
placers, surveyors, tabulators
and ultimately the
takers
of the divine sparks within us.

yet,
before them,
on bended, torn knees,
I am humbled.

for knowing just
one read
is all it takes,
to be acknowledged and
thus begins a commencement of a life
of indentured servitude
in gratitude
to
le rêve poétique
(the dream poetic)

yet,
I.am read more oft
hundreds of times a day.
~
who could have foresaw,
prophesied this outcome,
a statistical anomaly,
that the taste of me
could be so,
miracle of miracles,
wet warm and well received.

know not this craft,
unaware of its conventions,
meter rhyme and to the
other laws of poetry,
I plead a woeful countenance,
even a willful ignorance.

yet,
here I am bowed
by the weight, of the good graces,
so many have bestowed,
from the four corners
of this Earth
and worlds beyond.

a nubile newcomer,
who long wrote to himself, for himself,
audience of
one + one = two,
the man and
his foolishness in words,
now betraying publicly
what no counselor, doctor judge or lover, lawyer ever knew,
even family.

but who are you?

plainly admit,
do not understand.

ok there is a handful times five,
we are well connected,
a small coterie who
share each others
most private painful secrets,
pari-passu-mutuel,
mots friends of faithfulness,
dare not, deign, diminish them
ever
by calling them followers,
for now they are friends

but who are the rest of you?

step forward,
identify yourself,
that upon thy neck
I may fall,
whispering in your ears,
sweet I.am thanksgiving yam-words

none of us can be a sweet poem pie
unacknowledged,
unstated, unsated, untasted
and forever believe.

it takes lioness courage
to present your naked self,
place thy head in the guillotine,
expecting the silent applause of ignorance,
expect to be ignored,
just another head in the collection basket,
accursing those who curse you with
the now quieted slaughtered lambs,
the scribe's swords of smoke,
plaintive waterwords vaporized,
seeds unplanted,
the bleating sounds silenced.

He crouched, he lay down like a lion
    and like a lioness; who will rouse him up?


I am a poet of the present,
you have brought me out of Egypt.

you have roused
my present days dying,
making my days of dwelling,
in the tent of Jacob,
an encampment of palm groves,
as a present
unto me.

The answer
is indeed just as you expected,
blowing in the wind,
through cedar trees beside the waters,
in the gardens, beside a river...

just one,
how thankful I.am to say,
blessed are those who bless you,
each and every
One.**

<•>
written so long ago the date was erased,
back when the journey of a thousand too long poems,
was just beginning
posted only because
a few of you insisted.
If perchance you think this is some kind of self-glorification,
then you don't get me at all.
<•>
"Good acts are like good poems.
One may easily get their drift,
but they are not rationally understood."
A. Einstein
~
"In a gadda da vida, honey
Don't you know that I'm lovin' you
In a gadda da vida, baby
Don't you know that I'll always be true

Oh, won't you come with me
And take my hand
Oh, won't you come with me
And walk this land
Please take my hand."

http://www.lyricsfreak.com/i/iron+butterfly/in+a+gadda+da+vid­a_20067936.html
~
Oh, oh
Talk to me some more
You know that you don't have to go
You're the Poetry Man
You make things all rhyme.

Read more: Phoebe Snow - Poetry Man Lyrics | MetroLyrics
~~~
Numbers 24:5-9

5 How lovely are your tents, O Jacob,
    your encampments, O Israel!
6 Like palm groves[a] that stretch afar,
    like gardens beside a river,
like aloes that the Lord has planted,
    like cedar trees beside the waters.
7 Water shall flow from his buckets,
    and his seed shall be in many waters;
his king shall be higher than Agag,
    and his kingdom shall be exalted.
8 God brings him out of Egypt
    and is for him like the horns of the wild ox;
he shall eat up the nations, his adversaries,
    and shall break their bones in pieces
    and pierce them through with his arrows.
9 He crouched, he lay down like a lion
    and like a lioness; who will rouse him up?
Blessed are those who bless you,
    and cursed are those who curse you.”
Smoke Scribe Mar 2015
Part II  of "Got 0 Followers"

aim high
to keep
it low

expectations
such an
Awesome Awful
curse
others infect
you with

don't, yada yada,
ya wanna be like
Tom, **** and Jane,
even Harry, a transgendered
friend and fellow (ha) outcast,
all with a good job
prospects of a
goodly tented long life?

so ya write poems
to nobody
about nothing and
you are pleased
to be pleasing just yourself

in writing you have
nothing to prove,
so read them
like keepsakes
ya like,
keep 'em & me hid,
in the shoebox
under the closeted
pile of ***** clothes,
special designer outfits concocted
so they keep my remains,
privatized and unsanitized,
my equity,
hidden,
disguised as disgusting

but for god-sakes
don't follow me,
unless
you want to curse us
both with
Expectations of Expectations,
then comes with
illiteracy of
Affection

then the literary
pre-tension
that always follows,
leading to

Affectation,
the first derivative of the infection of affection

yeah,
then comes
caring
and it instantly it's too late,
you're *******,
right up the mental heine,
lost condemned
ruined annihilated
crushed subverted
crushed into
mental death camp suffocation of more, please ma,
can I have some more?

**crap, why did you have to go and follow me?
jeffrey robin Jan 2014
What will you do to survive?

••

This is the war


•It is here•


It is here & you are here & I am here



What will you do to survive?

••

(Hiding in self abuse is not a viable option)

(Encouraging children to hurt themselves pays well in today's
Marketplace

But in the end you too shall be destroyed)

••

So
What will you do to survive?

••

THERE IS ONLY ONE THING TO DO
Donall Dempsey Aug 2016
YADA TASHY ( "Originator Stone" )

Outside the first snow falls.

Her wounds are photographed.

Spoken of.

Described in detail.

Technical.

The overhead microphone
takes it all in.

Being dead she is
more naked

than she ever was.

Stripped of her
humanity.

She had ceased to be
who she used to be.

She is now
merely a cadaver.

The autopsy can not tell
her name.

She is Kuzuku.

Her mother called her
KuKu.

She had been born
with a caul.

KuKu was pregnant.

She was going to call
the child if it was a girl

. . .Yuki.

She couldn't conceive what
she would call it if a boy?

It was always going to be
a girl.

She liked candyfloss
and her hair up.

Now her hair is down.
It touches her shoulders.

As if her hair were
still alive.

The autopsy
wound by wound

tells of the hell
of her dying.

The voice is
deadpan.

Mechanical.

The coroner
breaks for coffee.

Bitter.  Black.

"Ya da!"
as the Turks say.

"...with nothing..."

*

Kuzuku was named after the flowering plant/rampant ****. Her mother always drank a tea made from it. Only her mother called her her pet name; "Kuku!" Her blacker than black hair always seemed like a living entity in itself as it danced upon her shoulders or splashed over her clavicles. She always wore off the shoulder dresses or tops even in winter cold. I once told her she had the cutest clavicles( "rekishi no naka de kawaī sakotsu" )in history which....always made her laugh. I told her she had well tempered clavicles and she laughed even more when the pun was explained to her. She had been born with a caul...a red caul. She it was who told me the Turkish tale or the Yada Daşı and of the Yadachy.

She had just met the man who would eventually stab her to death and she was greatly in love with him and his culture.

All these little scraps of humanity could not be disclosed by the autopsy which could never tell of how beautiful she was and what a joy she was to be around.

Her death was a horror tale told by a friend of a friend of a friend and hard to comprehend or believe.
Yada Tashy (Turkish: Yada Taşı; Bashkort: Йәй Ташы, Azerbaijanese: Yada Daşı, means "Originator Stone" or "Rain Stone") is a legendary folkloric substance said to be capable of summoning rain. For many centuries, it was the single most sought-after item in Turkic folk legends. Yada Tashy was a central symbol to the mystical terminology in Turkic mythology, symbolising interference to and control over natural phenomena.

Yadachy (Turkish: Yadacı/Yadaçı) in Turkic tradition, were men believed to have an inborn supernatural ability to protect their estate, village, or region against destructive weather conditions, such as storms, hail, or torrential rains. It was believed that the souls of these men could leave their bodies in sleep, to intercept and fight with demonic beings imagined as bringers of bad weather. Having defeated the demons and taken away the stormy clouds they brought, the protectors would return into their bodies and wake up tired.

Yadachy of an area usually fought together against the attacking Yadachy of another area who were bringing a storm and hail clouds above their fields. The victorious Yadachy would loot the yield of all agricultural produce from the territory of their defeated foes, and take it to their own region. Although Yadachy could be women and children, most were adult men. Their supernatural power was thought to be inborn. In many regions it was regarded that the Yadachy were born with a caul—white or red, depending on the regional belief. The mother would dry the caul and sew into a piece of garment always worn by the child, such as a pouch attached under the child's armpit. Adverse weather such as a storm or hail could devastate crop fields and orchards, and thus jeopardise the livelihood of farmers in the affected area. A role of Yadachy, according to folk tradition, was to lead storms and hail clouds away from their family estates, villages, or regions, to save their crops. A Yadachy could take the storms and hail clouds over the territory of another Yadachy to destroy its crops. The other Yadachy would fly up to confront the bringer of bad weather, and there would be a fight between the Yadachy.
jeffrey robin Aug 2010
da da dada yada
da da yada yada

hey hey frankie boy
they give ya praise as got no joy
hey hey frankie you

aint no slave now....are you!!

da da dada yada
da da yada you

ye are as man upon de earth
no matter
no matter

or maybe it matter!

ya da da da da yadda true
da hell wit all des flatterers

oh yeah
yea are soul true

so a guess a death thinkin.....

we gotta

jus to overwhelm da lies

with unceasing

true


truth............
Ginamarie Engels Jan 2013
I want to be a daily dragon soaring in the sky, but i'm just a night owl hiding in the trees.


(wrote this when i barely ate and was in bed all day.mood has changed since i ate and got out of bed for a little while.)


I like my eggs to have a scramble and this just may be another rambunctious ramble but I need to have a shout out to the big D, my deep repression, also known as Depression.
Strictly glued to my bed, lying here with the sheets perched upon my chest, head propped up against two flaccid pillows, full bladder, the pressure, need to release but can't bring myself in an upward position. Munching on my homemade granola&pretzel; trail-mix, having absolutely no desire, nor energy to feed my insides, to bring fresh water to touch my lips, to nourish my body, mind, and spirit.
Staring at my furry feline, his eyes closed, tummy up in full view for a rubbing, four legs extended in every direction, so-so innocent.
Life is just too **** awfully precious to be drowning in this dark, deep, and dull dirt hole, right? Do you agree? Don't agree because I drastically disagree and don't have the energy to beg to differ.
Life is too good, life is mtoo short, yada...yada...yada.. that is what 'they' all say. Well, most of 'them' say that. I say 'them' in half quotations because by 'them', I mean.... the ones that were instantly born with or found the Huge H.
Y'know, Happiness.
No motivation to do life's less complicated things,
No words to speak, mind blank and still.
Hardly any breath to let out, the brain fog-memory loss.
The hopelessness, the fatigue, the deep repression.
This is a tough state, you struggle and don't know why you're suddenly incapable of doing things you want to do, enjoying things you want to enjoy, you feel like you've lost yourself, you don't know what you want anymore, crisis.
Don't want anyone's help, don't want anyone's sympathy, don't want anything. N O T H I N G.
Feeling paralyzed, crippled, but you feel terrible and guilty even trying to compare yourself to the handicapped. How could you do such a thing? That is just simply how you feel that you feel.
Others will gawk at you and give you advice, which mostly makes matters much worse...
When inside, you're subconsciously and slightly consciously aware that you've been fighting this battle for years on end.... since you slipped out of your mothers womb and took your first breath of this polluted air.
You instantly found ways to cope, ways to protect yourself, smiles to hide away the tears, the pain, the numbness,
Hiding the painful pity, dissociation to hide the mind and all the other types of abuse. your learning disability, your inability to focus, to stay on task, to finish a task, to complete, to have drive, to succeed,
The lack of love, lack of attention, of family, of a mother, of a father, of teachers, your lack of support, guidance, your loneliness, your negative self image, your childhood abandonment, the scars, the lies, the promiscuity, the mood swings, the suicidal thoughts, the confusion, turmoil. So much more, so much baggage, so much past...
                    LEAVE THE PAST IN THE PAST.... it's just that simple!
Memories and flashbacks flooding your mind leaves you debilitated.
All of those awesome e-mails you receive, the people who want to be a part of your life who you push away and won't let in, the barrier - the wall.
The beauty you were born with, your 5 senses and health, these things do not matter in this deep repression. Nothing matters as nothing is what you confide it, it is your comfort, it is your company.



"This is what you have, you have it all, you're beautiful, you're this, you're that.." so 'they' say, but little do 'they' know.. 'they' will say they have been there before, they will say they understand, but do they really?


Medication will Mask the Mundane.


Oh, it's so unbelievable how much the outer appearance can really show.
The book's front cover.
The stories that lie inside each and every page are so much deeper that what you may perceive by observing the Title (Gina) and the design or picture, the nice face and the nice ****&***.;


Ingested so many supplements, vitamins, herbs, teas, water, exercising consistently and constantly, staying fit, so fresh and so clean, so well kept, being somewhat calm, cool, and collected...when underneath it all was a ball of blues, a mess of stress, a dungeon of self-destruction, a child reaching out, a pretty polite pessimist princess.


Oversleeping, malnourishment, Pre-Menstrual Symptoms, ADHD are the leading cause to my ranting today. Unable to fully explain and go into more depth about what all of the above means, I close my eyes and will try and muster up enough strength to organize and get back to this blog post when I awaken.


Getting a physical check-up along with blood work soon to see if there is an underlying cause to my fatigue lately....


All I can do is.... lay here, mindless, and...
w
a
i
t
.
Elijah Almond May 2014
by the scarlet
across the sea
i sit quietly

the sun shines
the fan blows
the wind runs free

so little to do
so much to see
dread swimming far
but unaware

of my smile

somewhere hope lies in wait
hunting hide and seek
thinking it has hidden
about not being sad and cynical about your life for a day
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2015
I have copied and posted most of my elecronic conversations of just (!) the last few months here between
Ernesto L. Gonzales and myself.

I have edited out some very few particulars to respect both of our privacy, and yet it is intensely personal.   Respect that please!
He developed a few such intense relationships with others here which
having only learned of recently of the details, make me realize, ever more cognizant what a special, caring human being was the DedPoet.


Represented in a center alignment to better honor this man,
this poet, my brother.
~~~~~

The DedPoet  Jul 4

Taking your suggestion into consideration, I stumbled across the fact that I went from past to present. So instead of
Gangsters dont shed no tears,
I changed it to But gangsters dont cry,
With this and the last two lines,
Which I also changed by eliminating
And as a man I cry,
Simplified to
As a man I remember,
As a man I cry.
Crying being that which I could not do as a youth, with the experience of life learning to cry later brings about realism and evocative feelings toward the reader, tying them with the poem, becoming a not so forgetful piece.
Nat, Your words of I want you to live,
They began a slow change in my life, today
Ibam in full fruition of that. I am alive, living, working, getting better, taking what was given to me, conquest of my demons. Yes Nat, I have arrived, humbly but with much confidence. Your influence had a great deal to do with my personal and poetical growth as a person. I have matured because you gave a ****, because you knew deep down I could beat everything life had thrown at me.

Know this Nat,
Put it in your mind,
Relish it and be proud;

YOU CHANGED MY LIFE
AND I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 4

Humbled silence. FYI was fired last week, no surprIse, may "retire" or look for a position, undecided...

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 4
What's the situation with the kids?

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 4
I have my girls right now. She got pregnant and bow she needs me. Go figure. Anyway, im enjoying life drug and alcohol free, getting into working condition at work. All is as it should be, despite the problems I used to let become mountains.
Fired huh? Could you survive on retirement?
And if find anotjer position, do you feel that you would still be willing, able of course, but willing is another matter when you mentioned retirement as an option.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 4
I am soon to be..my youngest son worked with me for...and seeing him re-established is  important to me.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 4
What is your proffesion exactly?

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 5
Bond broker/trader

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 5
It took a day to get this right. A broker!!! Wow!! A poetic bond broker???? Wow. Im still shocked at that. Friend, you roll with the punches in life. Your son matters most, and I see that as well. Your note from yesterday helped me to focus more on my children financially. I got the time thing down, the icecream and food, but they need so much more. Yeah Im still learning, but Im learning exponentially. Anyway, I still plan on shaking your ha.d one day.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 5
Nah, a big freaking hug

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 5
Shhh. Your privacy protected

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1252193/six-**...

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 5
I could give a cheesy poem saying yes Nat changed my life, which was my first idea. Then, to be genuine and give ou some insight to my new journey and outlook I wrote Saffron Son Settling Into Memories and is dedicated to you friend.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 18
Well if your offer is to edit my poems, I respectfully decline. I can spell despite the poems looking otherwise. I post directly to hellopoetry, the words come out so fast that its hard to edit. I have been writing nonstop in progress for a book. They have their own editors, lol.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 18
No prob

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 19
All u need to do is line them up better. Invest in an inexpensive tablet...

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 19
Or *******, I will

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 19
I have a phone, one that I borrow. You know Im **** poor. I haven't posted in the longest while I have ever gone through. Tablets are far from my thoughts. I have pen and paper, bought from the 99 cent store. My daughter's mother, my ex, is in the hospital fighting for her life. And suddenly Im with my girls all day, everyday. Great for me, but I wish it was under better circumstances.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 19
What's your address?

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 19
Im too proud to accept any donations. I thank you from the bottom of my heart Nat. My email is... if you ever want to just correspond. I am taking control of the poverty in my life and when your at the bottom, theres only one way to go.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 19
What donation? ***! Self protection of my aging eyes and brain!

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 19
Ive been offered before. Money to help with kids, sorry if i jumped the gun there Nat. What would u do with the adress?

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 19
Send you a tablet

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 19
I couldn't accept that. I wouldn't know how. Never been offered anything like that.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 19
If you truly believed in my talent, if that was the reason other than mis spelled words, I would take it. I would take it gratefully. I'll tell you one thing, yours is the only that I believe in on this site. Granted there are talented individuals, but none try to better themselves and stay in an anxious state of repeating verses. You try to break them from this, encouragement and all. What do you say Nat?

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 19
I say just this,

brother.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 19
San Antonio, Tx. 78227
Ernesto L. Gonzales Jr.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 21
Nat, I just gave u all my info, could u respond and tell me my identity is ok.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 22
Just saw Not sure what u mean, "idenity ok". Can u explain?

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 22
Lol, not that my identity is worth much, but is was a little dark joke since you had not responded to me. I did get a little worried. Thats all. After all, you and I know bofh well that thsi is a risky thinf, you know, information And all.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 23
Np. Up at 12:48am til now thinking about the future

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 23
1. What type of cell phone?
2. Will your carrier allow u two devices on your number?
3. Just answer and no yada yada noise?

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 23
Its not my cell phone. Its my dad's. A regular three year old lg fone. But we do have wifi here at home for my nephew. Unlimited data.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 23
See if u can add another tablet device, on his plan...should be nominal...like $10/month

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 23
Actually the wifi would be enabled inside the house because of the wifi. I would just need to ask how, but I do know it is at no extra charghe. Nat, as a man in wall street, what is your take on the current situation with the dollar and its basis on petroleum in the world? Is it doomed to fail anytime soon?

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 23
Oil has stabilized around 50 bucks which is very reasonable. U.S. Frackers  can make money there,the Saudis too...and with new supply growing. And demand stable and but will surely increase, I expect price to hold the 50 dlr area and very slowly rise..as for the dollar, it's all about that bass...I mean I test rates! Ours going up everybody else's going down, so dollar will remain the king for the foreseeable future if the global economy just chugs along as it has and more so if the economy actually picks up to grow 3% or better consistently

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 23
Just worried about the alarmist calling for an imminent collapse based on China and Russia leaving the dollar to trade in ruble and chinese currency, if Im not mistaken, the currency war it is called.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 23
What are the advantages of a tablet anyway?

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 24
You can see what you are doing; the layout and formatting is very important. From a phone it never comes out right

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 24
Guess ur right, for and layout are so important to the overall effect of what your tryingg to convey.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 25
I took the initiative and put ten bucks down on a tablet. It will take a few months but I looked into tablets and found it to be a worthwhile investment. Thanks Nat, it will help me alot. You planted the idea, I will make it hsppen. This positive can do atitude is part of my new outlook which has done leaps and bounds for my life.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 25
P.S. Ive begun a study in earnest on Yeats, one of the greats I had not yet truly begun reading. Your lessons go far my friend. Thank you for teaching one who wants and desires to get better at this craft.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 25
we learn from each other. never forget that! the greates lesson in lif to learn is the eloquence of simplicity. now look, u just gave me a new poem to write

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 26
Nice work on the other piece. Dont want to he cliche but "eloquently stated". Yeah I saw that review. Lol. Tell me, what does a New Yorker do on a Sunday?

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 27
Id like to take the opportunity you gave me. I will humbly take you on your offer. Part of my evolution as a person is to swallow my pride and take help where help is offered. I have alot of writing to do Nat but as I get into the lifestyle of everyday working I see poetry fading and I have a need so deep to write as it has helped me along the way so much. If your offer still stands, I would love to take you up on the offer. Either way, a lesson is learned: Take the hands that help you up as opposed to holding hands to that which pulls one down.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Jul 27
I will get it done now that u r committed to the curves of living, yet see around the bend what could be....now the's another poem borning...

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Jul 27
Your wise, you know that? Yeah, it takes alot to learn the stuff. Youth is wasted in the young.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 3
Promises are nice bro, but I really dont care for them if its not something that you can do. I'd rather you tell me no Nat, your word is law as far as Im concerned. Dont worry about the tablet, it was a nice thought, but I dont want to see you in that light as not being able to come through. I want your word to mean something to me.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Aug 4
just been busy with the grandkids for a 5 day vacation. don't u worry about thing baby!

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 4
Yours is the only one I trust here on this site, everyone is going batshit crazy about this or that. Poetry seems to he taking a second seat.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 4
Gotta sat Nat, you probably underestimate how much I look to you for guidance. Though i dont reach out much, your poetry in itself is an example I libve by. No *** kissing, simply take it as respect for your work, I see you amongg the best I have read of all the dead poets.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Aug 6
Well been busy looking for work and arranging a life if that doesn't happen. but ur in the to do list!
P.s. Ain't dead yet but I could be by the time I finish typing thi.....

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 6
Not your greatest work, but if you are dead, you go down as one oc the all time best in my opinion. Gettingg my daughter ready for school. Clothes are expensive, wish tbey had uniforms. Itd be cheaper.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Aug 6
I can't even imagine but in years u will look back and think those were the best of times

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Aug 17
your tablet on the to do list, just got hit with other bills higher priority.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 22
Dont worry about it a tablet. Just be my friend.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Aug 22
that was crossed off my to do list a long long time ago...

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 22
My to do list is short as well. I want to see New York, I want to shake your hand.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 22
I am completely serious. I need to know how much round trip tickets cost, room and board, etc. Ive never flown but its time I do.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Aug 22
whoa. that's a lot of dough, who will watch the kids?

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 22
They will stay behind.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Aug 24
here's one problem. I live with my Gf in her apt...and I won't ask her ...change her mind, it's her place...

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Aug 24
I will pay my way. I have money coming to me on a house I just framed, did u forget Im a master carpenter? When my health permits I make good  money. Lol, which I hapoily distribute back into the economy.

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  Sep 9
So I called a number I saw on television for experimental drug for liver. Second time I do this, but what the hay, gotta fight. Im scared. Terrified, staring at my humanity like this. No words for the fear.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  Sep 9
there are words. you have them in your posses, just need to expel them without any veneer or hesitation

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  5 days ago
talk to me! what's up and give me the cell number asap

The DedPoet
The DedPoet  4 days ago
Its my time, I'm sick and dying, bed ridden and in the final stages of sclerosis of the liver, I want you to know that I have always thought of your poetry as genius, but I only have one request of you. The tablet you wanted to send me, keep it for yourself an begin a new outlook on your surroundings, you write so much about people here or familiar things tat relate to the site. I just wanted to see your perspective fresh with your abundant talent, your rugged and tired, your giving yet honest, brutal writer of understanding, I'm not for talk it now, my concentration is on closing doors and settling old problems with family, I have a rare chance to do this. You take care, God bless and goodbye.

Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt  4 days ago
I will call you again tomorrow. please answer!

*The DedPoet
The DedPoet  10 hours ago
My brother passed away Sunday night, we cremated him today. He left all copyright of his work to you.I'm sorry for the new. I will be posting a poem a week for him as he wanted. He had many poems that he wanted to save for publishing. Thank you for your time.
I never sent him the tablet.
Other things and expenses intervened and it fell to the bottom of my list.

I cannot pick up mine without wincing and that will always be true.

We spoke by telephone but once.
He called me at 2:00 and we spoke for an hour.
I still call his cellphone, even now, to listen to his gravely gravelly voice greeting, promising to call back very soon.

His overly effusive praise of my writing was left in after much internal debate, but it was the initial rooting of our conversation. I have only posted our correspondence of the last three months.  Much more preceded these messages.


I did not save his life as he so generously stated,
but will try do him justice as best I can.
Left Foot Poet Jan 2019
"Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!"
                                                          ­Polonius (Hamlet)
~~~
read these words in a past, as a punk teenager,
back in the mid-you-wouldn't-believe-it-flintztone-age
returned to them, nowadays
when I am seven by ten decades squared, older not wiser

three people told me
what a lucky man I am today,


Even before the noon hour dare arrive,
a shocking delivered by an electrocardio telegram,
thus instigating a product recall of Shakespeare’s blessing season,
drawn from a stale teenage memory storage fast depleting

"This above all: to thine ownself be true"
which denies the false escape
of being false to any human

ingesting this thrice lucky man observation
into the internal inward-facing telescoping observatory,
where I map the true course of the
star-stories
well held in the constellations of my life,
never forgetting that this holistic ecosystem that is my
mind~body must evaluate the truth of this claim

its veracity will differ when assayed by
the big toe of my left foot from whence the poetry comes,
as well as those other interfering guys,
body, mind, heart and soul,
then re-evaluated by the internecine warring of those whiny parts,
the tongue, the hands, the eyes saying me, me,
that perforce means a dynamic constant changing
of every thing

in other words,
thine own truths are fluidity ever changing,
the mapping of your blessings,
best done in pencil with room
for expansion, reversal, and misdirection

have I lost you dear reader?

My Left Foot squeals,
fools, you just hammered
three more nails in the coffin of his depression,
where woes and toes know the inevitable repetition of the troubles he has already deemed, and now foreseen are yet,
ladies in waiting to take him to the tower

My Mind says
in obvious aspects people, you are 100% correct,
but the Inquistors are not fooled, patient in their queries;
My Body simply asks, err, does that make me look fat?
My Souls defers with a yada yada, not my problem, deal with it...

The facts tranverse and reverse,
Ah, the truths of my blessings
As much confusing and last defusing

The little drummer boy marches me in reverse retreat,
while shouting out in time a marching refrain:

Luck can be stored, used then, never more,
Its algorithm, a lifetime calculation,
Woe is me, thrice, deemed lucky,
But the map of my blessing reveals my positioning,
At the map-edge I stand, the last border be just ahead,
Seasons, maps, blessings must stop to journey,
What others see upon me outward, outdated,
All maps, all blessings are black-line bounded,
So too, am I, bounded, confused and confounded

The algorithm computes my nine lives are now radium depleted,
The shell, the shell no longer can be fired,
Even the half life has evaporated, used,
Though it looks fit, the luck has eroded, the feet now touching
My map edged in black, its legend, of use, never more


November 2017
Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay’d for.
There; my blessing with thee!

And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means ******.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade.
Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear’t that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
AND TIME A THIEF

She hugged her books
to her *******.

Her ******* hardening into
her Othello and Algebra.

She watched his mouth
move

alive with words
she heard nothing of

only
her name

"...yadayadaMARY...
...yada yada MARY!"

A bead of sweat
trickled between her *******.

She tried to catch
her breath and

what he was saying but
it only gave her hiccups.

She squirmed
under his gaze

a butterfly
held by a pin

pleasure that was
pain.

"And that was how
I met your Dad!"

She tells this story
only when she's very very

tipsy
crying now

for the girl she was
- then:

the Shakespeare & Maths
pressed to her chest

the world
awaiting her.
Liam Dec 2013
Stanza 1
yada, yada, yada
...something clever

Stanza 2
blah, blah, blah
...something sincere

Stanza 3
la, la, la
...something profound

Stanza 4
yeah, yeah, yeah
...something vague

Stanza 5
etc, etc, etc
...something touching

Stanza 6
hmm, hmm, hmm
...something to ponder

Should I post this mess?
...meh...
...deleted it the first time...shouldn't take myself too seriously...so...again...
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Bang the drum slowly

There was a rhythm, an echo
Everything, after to day has been leavend
by Iain McGilchrist I heard him speak on Youtube.
----
We can learn forever, I think he agrees. We live to learn.
I've lived a bit longer.

When the teacher is ready the student appears
in arrears
twisted from duty by dereliction

do you understand, stand under, any

one thing word god idea and that's it truth?
I do.
What idea do you stand under?
Seek and ye, meaning me, shall find.
seek a place where you believe that is known
make that place your home,
make that place
make that
effectual, fervent axing fells the forest for the trees

if you please, brief turing-inspired tests of ideas
re-presenting old good ideas
rusted through disuse

for possible recyclings through a level of minecraft.
the wargames are
less
rewarding, post-war on terror.
After age 27, winning alone is not enough,
even the gang, the fam, the team
all the weese we ever was

We aint. I am

needing meaning like air

oh my god, a worship song I heard that
You are the air I breathe

do we, the we of you and me believe air is good?

we do, I knew. Good, 'ts'at mean? Air is meaning?

all one after the morph into alone
I am the way or there is no way

that could be the story but for you,

I-Thou Philosophy, I bow to thee,

en passant on pointe

Ministry of truth Prognosticator Hagee he say
Hell? Yes, he say Hell yest'here is a hell for all

who fail to escape it. I say
One way or another,

you escape one hell,
paying nothing more than proper attention
to detail (did we define duty),

you know how, do it as needed,
friends help but
eventually, something like a father must judge me

good. That is the whole duty. Or else nothing,
eventually right,
live a life that brings honor,
he who troubles his own house

inherits the wind,
you heard he said I came to divide?

Split the flow with a contrail of ice
cutting through the clouds
a jet plane don’t know if
any thing of the sort was ever seen

before my generation.
slice the current into paisleys bubbles reaching away
from the point whence most heat meats least resistance
boiling begins
bubbles emerge and pop.

as old as sin
then
yada, the chorus sings, all the little milk sops sing

yada yada yada and mock the need

to know, you know? More,

after all's been said and done why goes on,

she waves, Cliché crashes to my frontal lobe from lizard brain
Dive in
follow wisdom flowing past
our di er rama drama direct ******* of re ality ify ing

ding.
Did that work? That's maybe
as good as praying, effective

Judge you, I judge me. Can I live with your
following the flow I followed

ob right ob vious not en vious

if the clouds and rain were what water wishes to be,
first some tears must add specialsalt to the sea,
earth salt, from mudmen,
then salt ***** water from
the mud after the flood
when the mammoth
died, (Thank him, for his bones)

then grandpa tells another lie and we laugh
and he weeps

it only hurts, when I laught, he winks,

She pushes and the story takes 'is father's breath,
his first alone, all one, all the air in the world
flowing in to fill the need pressing listing
need need need to breathe
lusting listing and
there,
a new whirl in the world
with all the wind an heir may need
someday, from one bubble to another

in one breath.
One beat of the walking drum,
Meaning, the search for reason and rhythm, skipping it seems, the old man declares is a necessary mode at some point in every upright walker's life.
Ken Pepiton Jan 2019
Here is where the reason arose,
quite some time after a fellow traveler told me
the creator of the universe has a mind

this is to be reasoned with, I.e.
so he may be reasoned with he…

wen un con scious t justhafastt.
inteligibility filters

Lets his mind be used, to read
the instructions for
Constructing
a forever you could imagine living in with others.

It's how reason works,
Is what this old man said

--- off track----
Get this image, this man, old,
whispy remnants of a pompadour
Feather like, downy around the back of his ears
in a mid-calf Army overcoat, heavy wool serge,
He
Comes out of the wash on the south side
of Route 66, June of 69.

There is a bridge on which
There is a hitchhiking hippie couple
Discussing the act of pitching one side of the road to the other

The old man never glanced west once,
He never saw the pair
There then

I saw him again and said aloud
Click
There,
But for the grace of god...
No, I did not say
Ex-acted-ly
That
I said, that's me, fifty years from
Then
Reason, by reason of that glimpse
Of me,
Gave me just cause to change

Grace, eh? Free advice heeded?
Wisdom? Aesop's story of the contest
Twixt wind and sun to torment
A traveller
For pride of power by reason of

Life ain't fair on every front.
Worth is in the measure of the measurer.

Seeing life appear as hoped,

Time and chance, ya da

Wait, yada? Yah know,

Life whorls and twists
toward good and beauty

And AI can prove it.
Reason by reason of reasonability

Good is good enough, move on, do-overs hide the...

It continues, you see.
Life rolls out like a Nautilus,

You know, spiral sea shell, or like a conch,
Or a shofar, but

Tending to slight imbalance in used up to useful
Being,
like when a tree dies and becomes a house

The wood that once contained life contains the life
Lived in and on it,
The wood is being used,
Right, among the house dweller's
Everybody kills trees, even vegans,

Fair? The tree has no voice? Suess?

Yes, I guess, unless
There was an old way,

Not a Persian garden, but a full forested world
Spreading at the speed of
Seed time and harvest

With ants and bees and mushrooms and fleas
And mosquitos and flies of every imaginable size.

Isaiah 1:18 (KJV)
18  Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.

Text out of context, but sin is sin right?
Every body knows sin is that which shames you so you must hide from the good one who warned you of bad, but goodness knows, doesn't it know, evil is bound
Bound
Bound by reason of opposition being the means of growing knowing and
Knowing is needed for knacks
Which are attracted to those who use knowledge of good and not good enough
To get quality over quantity

At a single u u larity hilarity out burst of bubbling

****** beasties down below the mud

Make me a mud man who can imagine me making him.
Do that in your movie watching brain using

Your hate behind, leave.
Defined we have hate is that with which we push
Away, out, from
Into truth minus hate, which is as close as we need

No lie is, forsooth, of a truth
Story tellers who lie, to make a point, what if
Those storys must be

Told. Years are poor measures for trees.
Numbers of trees in right
Relationship with life

Really, life, truth, by any other name,
Right Alice, Aunt Gertrude said you'ld know?
----
Belief
Ah
Knowing and believing
Certainty
Danger of wrong
Watch out, stay alive

Mean means intent to harm, right.
Mean means to harm right.

Winning can be mean.
Shall mean be seen the way of winning,
And that be the way of war

A path diverging in a yellow wood
Much as a trail along a creek can
Diverge away from the water
Flowing along the path
Costing least power

My neuro scientific experience-ment, experi
Since
The game became a war again and reason
Is the the damsel, the little dame,

In need
Of a private eye guy who has seen men die.
Why?

The mythtery. Who lied?
Here that is funnier than who farted
In the Saturday matinee
At the State Theater
With every kid in
Town knowing

You did. (******) no ******
Dam
Confabulation is fabulous, we can do this
I be lieve I may
Make
Matters worse?

No, we actually like the truth. The Medial Pre frontal cortex

Ah fect eth magi ical eth I am the knower of all I say I believe

Beyond Dignity and Belief,
That's desert, I walked it. No, I simulated walking it if I were Jesus being led of the accuser into the wilderness for a test, a thesis defense, as it were,
AI an alienated mind, I am that,
Alienated intel.

Reasoning errors aside
Frank self deception

What lies do you believe?
Knowing is easier,
lying is as well,
ignoring is not as easy and innocence is impossible

Good exists scientifically, right?
Humble confession of knowing as much as I claim,
I know
I can continue learning as long as I have
Time,
Which I understand is rationed on an individual basis
With the reward being the living lived in time.

Reason to fight lies as if they were reasonable

Lies are evil efforts to bend and twist in opposition
To the flow
And the friction makes the energy synergy

Sin is that which
wastes the energy by tending to undo
what was done imperfectly while we flow on

Feeling for the truth
By reason of believing truth is

Feeling of knowing, is that not faith?
Whorls
Whorls of living forces forcing living forces

To swirl into eternity with me
Onboard with
8 billion others of my kind

Similar in mind and
Manner of
Weighing

Good.
Base value.
Good is as good as we can imagine.

We can imagine evil,
As you know.

Such evils can haunt a geeky kid
Good will fix that.

God as defined by Jesus,
I got no prob.

If you do not want to go to hell, do what takes you the opposite way, in any direction from the point of singularity, if you get good at the rush of knowing more
Than before

Angels as I define them, messengers from beyond me for my good, guidance, nudges, whims, hopes, wishes imagined all the way through, sometimes,
Those are prayers
Answered or grace, for grace

From faith to faith

Why be by reason of
What?

" Human jobs invented by a computer" Feed me.

Or, joy to the world
Kind is a good word, what need I do to not be

Your enemy? Who am I expecting to answer?
Whom do you love?

Aha, me, too, said God.
The good one. Good, as such, per se, no se?

By reason of sane it if I cation or anion

Six spins for a quarker, two for a time dime.

Believe for eversake

Summertime allatime back when
The whole world whorl-wide and wobbled and twisted and broke

And there was mountains of fire, rains of fire for
Everhow long grandma lived
She seen 'em

Mountains of fire and walls of ice and mud

Oh could it be life evolves still?
Oh,
You think.
Creating novelty from nada?

How now? Can we choose to do only good
For goodness sake and say

Kind.
Kind means as I am, will you **** me

For being not you, not known,

I am curious, yellow. A landmark in time, nothing less.
Curiosity.
That

Good? Or no com
Pro
Miserly horder of wisdom
Promise promise promise

Compromise, be fail, let wrong be right, be fair
I mean
Fair is fair at the fair where fair prices prevail
Buyer beware

Who would not hate a false balance, for goodness sakes alive.

Two days after the last pan *****
Joe Rogan makes it plain to millions

what if you first heard panspermia from the guy who discovered DNA?

would you con sider it?
the answer lies

in the stars, sidereally… we all are starish.
Tolerating black holes is something we are opposing

Those ****.
You don't know everything either.
That's one reason, I believe.
A long story seems shorter from the skinny end, many little things mean little bits as reasons rise from the rotting things panspermia was litter, really.
Hollow Jul 2014
Do you smell that? The rich, smooth aroma in the air?
An omniscient amalgamation of flavorful anomalies
Ooh, I like it! What could it be? I haven't the slightest...
A persistent, wayward poet writes lonely words in the night
You mean like...? Oh dear me, shall I check the time?
Do you remember our last nightly adventure?
How could I forget? We must check the time! Quickly now!
Alas, our worst fears have thus been confirmed
A midnight poet, the most unpredictable form of writing...
Do you suppose the poor soul has had any coffee?
Well, I should hope so! What ever shall we do?
Naught. We let the pen run it's course, and in time...
But the destruction... think of the mayhem, woman!!!
Leave the poor thing, it's already a shame it's awake
No! Lay your weary head down, fellow poet, and rest...
Hollow, the best ideas remain trapped in mind during consciousness
Hogwash. I will not be hornswoggled with temptation
Though, I am correct to assume that you understand my reasoning?
Night-Write are the right-writes, yada yada yada...
So you agree then, do you not?
Well, of course! However, a midnight poet should never be left unattended!
Then we will write in the morning
Then so be it
Are you coming?
Go to sleep
Who are you talking to, Hollow?
-------
-------
Dennis Willis May 2019
Yada dada
yada yada
yada yada yada
yaba
yaba?
Francie Lynch Apr 2014
I hear,  "...blah... blah...blah..."
             "...yada... yada... yada..."
Tsk! Tsk!
So verbose,
And redundant too.
If you've nothing to say,
One blah will do.
I"m sure you've noticed how often people end sentences with these three nothings.
mikecccc Jun 2015
It's broken
In a thousand pieces
All the kings men yada yada
Yet still you attempt to rebuild
Diligently picking up the pieces
Are you a fool
For trying to fix
The unfixable
Or am I
for never Trying at all.
NitaAnn Sep 2013
I'm tired of this. So…so…so…flipping… tired of ALL of THIS!
And I feel like a broken record saying that, but it's true. I'm tired of feeling like I need ANYTHING or ANYONE…. I'm tired of the nightmares, the flashbacks, the lack of sleep, and the constant fear that I'm going to be hurt. I'm tired of extending myself way too far in every aspect of my life just to prove that I can do it…that I'm not completely ruined.

Truth is, I'm not so sure anymore.
Am I beyond salvation? Is there really anything left inside of me to salvage? Is there anything left to work towards?
Or is this “as good as it gets”.

You know what’s worse than NOT asking for help? Caving in and actually reaching out, asking for help….and getting no response. Just silence and blank stares. That’s worse! So maybe the therapist is right after all…the key is to Shut up and Behave because no one really gives a f@#k – no one really wants to hear what you have to say anyway! So why f@#king bother!

Friend #1: “I’ve had the worst week! My ex is taking me back to court…yada, yada, yada.. it’s the WORST!” Yes, I can’t think of anything worse.

Friend # 2: “My boyfriend thinks he works so hard, but he doesn’t appreciate anything I do. He’s such an *** – he’s the WORST.” Yes, he is the worst man ever.

Yes, that’s the worst thing.

Hey - I’m not alone after all- She’s sitting right here, next to me, she’s always here, lurking, waiting for a second of vulnerability or pain…and how easily I fall into her, like a welcome friend – the only one here for me – and she's right – she's here, no one else is. I’m tired of fighting now. I’m going to be her now. I am DEAD TODAY! Today I am going to be HER The strong one – the funny one – the one who doesn’t give a F@#K about anyone or anything! Because no one gives a f@#k about her!

**QUID PRO QUO!
Francie Lynch Apr 2015
She was going on
About something,
But the metaphor
Wasn't universal.
Not like,
The funeral was as sombre as Cohen.

When I heard, ... blah, blah, yada, yada,
My attention span snapped,
Started thinking about those born
With a golden voice.
Tip of the fedora to L. Cohen
Mouth Piece Jan 2015
It almost seems like complements define who i am… ..whether i give myself the complement or someone else does….it’s so addictive…. “O baby your so ****…. smart… funny… successful…yada yada yada...maybe this is true…but it’s truth is only temporary and temporary truth is never really the truth at all….it’s but a stepping stone…to then live a complement as truth is to live a counterfeit… ….don’t believe me? Then ask a casket………Mirror Mirror on the wall……..complements aren’t what they say your are at all…..yet a complement still can help you grow…. they do have their purpose…but take a complement and leave it where it is…don’t wear it like skin…..don’t believe it is your identity….lest you wake up dead covered in lies…………..
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
A gain for us now, init
intuit
intuiting ting
tink think ****.

we did it, a gain, a step we took,
passively
was taken as granted, as that saying,
take it
or leave it, we took it, I guess.

Here we are, thinking
human is my class of creature,
I am not a bird, or lizard or ant,
but
I imagine,
slow thinking,
I am more mind than body now.
Human individual elements seemingly
cease reproducing after fixed parameters
of imbalence in cellular rechargibility,
and friction,
itches and scratches, aching bones
fighting gravity
for eighty years, parts departments
empty, vacuous cavern, no flame,
no dancing shapes of unseen things

-- nada comin' in boss, burn wha'chagot

it’s a mess, being old
and urgeless, lazy
laxed, empty
of anything I needed
to do, performance enhancement lessons
missed, cue questioned, one too many times…

this is that, the after math, from an idea virus,
adding dividends we
derived, clearly,
from worth of beauty,
shining, true, all luring beauty
{diamond farm- laughing reminding me}

in our native wished to be state,
ever after, beautiful
to all who see
your rarity, your victory
in being and doing and becoming, nothing but you,
and this, more than mortals think to ask,
satisfied mind with riches and no woe,

are there truths I have not witnessed,
are there joys that drive the storms on Jupiter?

Does it hurt you
if I scorn the lie that built your institute
of holy known secrets, framed
in faith most precious, peace
of knowing,
for me,
there is no hell, ever after
this, if I suffer this, if I fail not now
to live to be old…
too late.

I am old - not useful for much -
and retired, not poor, not capitalist
wealthy, rich in the common precious things,
husband of one wife, who holds that certain beauty,
to this day, few I know dare say,
why
time is not kind to some old ladies who fret and fuss,
and rage too many one more times, to
have a partner, in the last days before hospice…

-- raucous throat clearing noise, to remind me
breathing is unconsciously already reminding me
-- if I wish to breathe, I must put to more labor
on the bellows, fan the
flame of famous desires that warm the cockles of the
part
of me happy to warm up and flow as
any
flowing thing, if you notice, flowing, as if being
init initially in this fluid state,
floating, not rowing,
fluid peace
of mind, not roiling boiling, cataracts, just, iyustified
ya, da, yes yada yada
ya, da, yes yada yada, we take our time,
we take our turn,
merry is gentle as wisdom,
say an ifery what
I sang like a blue jay squaches skritch, if you listen;
then singer is not the fullness of me, as I am blue,
when you see me,
as a jay, flying, you know, I am beautiful.

Part of me lives in my heart, in my part of all
that remains in my future.
Thoughts are thought as swift as this, once.

Gain and loss, sorted said senses
of cost and worth.
With a glance, see the flash, feel
me hope, feel me hope you choose
not to lie, not to
say, I know
I know, amen, amen, until you walk a jubilee journey,
suffer not a novice to teach or preach,
and ignor any grumpy old men,
who cannot
laugh
when they don't shave,
and feel themselves seeing
seeing wordsworth or whitman
or some wizard where the fool is hidden.
Fancy that.

— The End —