Babbling Again

The other day humanity farted and out emerged another political thought
Drafted out of feces' odor and a health helping of opinions bought
It spread out like a fart does do and slowly filled the room
Everyone smelled it, nobody  dealt it, and and finger pointing began too soon
The discussion soon changed from changing the odor to finding the person to blame
The odor became secondary to the attempts at winning the game
Everyone said it was impossible for their fart to smell that way
It has to be from someone who hates us, farted on purpose, then ran away
"If it were me" one person said, "you would know it before it smelt
Because my farts are loud and they leave no doubts as to from whom it was dealt."
"I think it came from a woman" another said " as it has a perfumery smell."
"YOU ARE A SEXIST!" another one screamed and condemned the speaker to Hell.
"I think it was a foreigner who passed this gas as it has an ethnic feel"
"We have to fart over there so they don't fart over here!  That is the obvious deal!"
And so it went on and it went on and on and never did it end
They blame you and you blame them; it's easier to pretend
That the fart was always with us and we can't do a thing about it
Just hold your nose, with eyes tightly closed, and pretend it isn't shit.

A Poem for Joe

I will not Drudge up the Retort
Not even as a last resort
I will not go there for the news
Nor for its echo chamber views

I've come to see through all that clatter
That none of it will really matter
He said, she said, they all say
Will all not change the light of day

A quote, a note, a pathetic gloat
A hunt for a flag, crowd approval parade float
A glance from the god who watches the words
Rewarding the loyal's most devoted show of the absurd

I'm past it; I'm free; I am lose of it's grip
I no longer lurk or worry of a slip
I no longer enjoy politics being played as a sport
I no longer seek to gaze at any Retort.

And why "a poem for Joe" you may sit and wonder
But the answer is simple, no need to ponder
I know that you so hate when I make my words rhyme
And I'm on vacation; I had plenty of time.

Three Cheers for the Red, White, and Screwed

Three Cheers to the Red, White, and Screwed
To those who believe we are leaving
With 16,000 more mercs on their way
We will see more US deaths another day

And to those who think Obama did this
To those so easily lead asunder
He tried to extend our stay
But they said "no way
Enough with the plunder"

So wrap yourself up in the flag
Pretend this is something worth celebrating
But you know as well as do I
This is a lie
We are just masturbating.

So three cheers to the Red, White, and Screwed
To the warhawks, both old and new
You have thrown the world into Hell
You did so well
And so fuck you

Dr Seuss

There are spots in my memory that can never be replaced
And these are the things with who I am are interlaced
So, from the Zax, to the the Lorax, to the Sam that I am
From the places I'll go and the things I will plan
From the made up words that somehow made sense
To the warring butter parties on opposite sides of the fence
With Sneeches who happen to love their stars
To Sneeches who have none upon thar's
The Who hearing Horton up in the nest
To the turtle stuck on the bottom, just wanting a rest
From the 5000 Fingers of Dr T
To the Cat in the Hat with Things 1, 2, and me
Happy Birthday Theodor Geisel better known as Dr Seuss
You were a "one of a kind" they will never reproduce.


Slightly weak I know, but I am at work and didn't have long to write it.

Reasoned Rational Reaction

It's so hard to glimpse at Heaven
When you know you're on the path to Hell
And it is futile to understand the reasons
When the pain you know too well
And the strength that once was your armor
Becomes a prison for your soul
An empty ceramic vessel
Where violent thoughts seek control
Directionless anger battering
Against the walls of reasoned rational thought
Forcing your gaze on the things you lack
Instead of shining the spotlight on what you've got
Repetitive in the redundancy
The redundant path to dismay
I willingly walk the corridor
Try to follow
I will show the way

Dream

It's a dream
It's real
It's a real dream
A wet dream
A nocturnal emission
Drug induced in a cheap motel room tribute
Biblical in nature
Circular in shape
Arrogant in disposition
Fullback in position
French souffle' surprise
My eyes can't take the stares of the masses
Late for classes
Rambling in the frost bitten haze of youth
Folly and misguided
Given to miss and miss to given
The world turns slowly outside a counter-clockwise cafe
Have you seen it
My dream
It's real

Which is Which?

One is of Palin and Pelosi and the other is of those Theater Faces, but I lost which was which. Can you help?




No seriously, which is which?


There once was a woman named Palin
Who wanted to learn how to rhyme
She spent every moment studying
And invested every nickel


She worked all day and night long on her poem
A symbol of all she stood for
And her words flew from her mind down through her pen
And she wrote until she could write no other words


She was proud of her poem as she presented it
To the members of the fine GOP
"I hope this shows I am ready to serve
And you elect me to the Highest Office."

Two Poems

Once Upon a Blog

Once upon a time
On a blog far away
Were two people too busy
To know the time of day
One said the left
The other said the right
Neither had any clue
Why they were compelled to fight
But fight they did nightly
And through most of the day
Each claiming victory
While the other was away
And they fought for so long
They each lost sight
Of why they believed
The things they thought was right
Instead the main goal
Of the daily war
Was to prove the other side wrong
And sadly, nothing more



His Story
In 92 I voted for Clinton
Boy did I get fooled
I sat out the next two elections
And stupidity ruled
I returned not to vote for someone
But against a man
And I lost that election because
The guy I voted for had no plan
Then I voted for change
In 2008
That there would be no change
I did not contemplate
Now I must decide
What action to take
Do I vote in 2012
Or just relax for the rape?

Wondering If I Still Can

Form of forgotten flavor
Dancing on the tip of my tongue
Basking in the richness
Creamy light drips from the sun
I wander wearily down the path
Adrift in open seize
Gripping all the twilight roses
Dancing in the breeze
And from the open window
Babbling in Babylon I go
Without a single meaning to
My rhetoric and my prose

The Blog Nobody Reads

This is the blog that nobody reads.

These are the words on the blog that nobody reads

These are the thoughts contained within the words embedded on the blog that nobody reads

This could have been the spark of creativity caused by the thoughts contained within the words embedded on the blog that nobody reads

This could have been the Earth changing idea born of the spark of creativity caused by the thoughts contained within the words embedded on the blog that nobody reads.

Working Free the Rust

Tick
My alertness takes a lick
Tock
Staring and cursing the clock
Yawn
Unfocused and feeling withdrawn
Drool
Half asleep and feeling the fool
Itch
My seat smacks my ass like a switch
Scratch
My internal clock and the wall clock don’t match
Squirm
I was not meant to sit long term
Bored
One hour left my favorite reward

Dear Santa...

Serena, lemming superstar, posted this on her blog:If it's Tuesday, then it's time to Pimp Some Poetry and Vamp me some Verses. Today I'd like rhyming verses on "All I Want for Christmas Is..." I answered her request, but was unhappy with what I came up with at work... I mean at home after work. I always forget my boss reads this blog. Anyway, here is my real thing. I hope you like it.



Dear Mister Santa Claus,
I know this time of year is rough
But I have somethings to ask for
And I cannot emphasize enough
The importance of every detail
To my monumental Christmas Day request
And it's not to say I don't appreciate
Last year's olive and lavender silk vest
Its just that I know something,
Something that, if quite true
Could cause quite a bit of damage to the rep
Of a Saintly person-type person, like you
Now the details are kind of fuzzy
But this still is a laugh riot
Cause it seems that dear Saint Nick
You are a toy making pirate
The toys you make all year
In your sweatshop of a store
All have brand names you don't own
And I have plenty more
Those elves who you work,
Who slave day and night
Are really just “bad” kids
Or those who didn't sit on your lap just right
Oh the shame it would cause
If ever this got out
The children would cry
So the parents would pout
And all this distress
would add to the suicide rate
And the lawsuits would come in
Too fast to contemplate
So I think it would be best
If, between just you and me
I get what I asked for
And that's the last you'll hear from me

Playing with Letters

This is not a real poem per say in that I know it is weak. I am playing with a concept right now and this is my first attempt. See, what I am going for is for the horizontal words to express a feeling that the vertical, capitol letters also conveys.

Feeling everything that you’re trying to say
Understand it less and less every single day
Caring is something you left far behind
Kindness, for you, just ain’t all that kind
You never relent in your endless assault
Only to say that it isn’t your fault
Understanding is something you sadly just lack
And never quite understand why I don’t want you back
So please just shut up and wander away
Stop with the notes and just leave here today
How long do you think you can keep this shit up?
Obviously you beleive I can't get enough
Leave me in peace so I can regain
Everything that I lost in exchange for fame

It is a celebrity looking at their fans. Sorry for the curse words =D

Thinking About Baseball

Are you ok?
Are you sure you're ok?
Are you ready?
Are you sure you're ready?
How's that?
Is that right?
Should I move?
Did that hurt?
Sorry
Are you ok?
Are you sure you're ok?
I don't think that goes there
Oh, I guess it does.
Does that feel right?
Faster? Slower? Which?
I can't go “slowly faster”
Oh, slowly go faster
Was that your hair?
No, I'll move
Don't move
Is that good?
Is that right?
Is that it?
That's it?!
Sorry
I swear that's never happened before.

Winter's Warm Embrace

Formulated and combined yet lacking a means of escape
I find myself with so much to say yet devoid of a way to say it
Or an audience to hear it
Or a listener to feel it
Or the soul to express it.
Blankness as far as my eyes can see
A snow filled barren horizon of lost promises and empty voices
Words without feeling only reflect the emptiness where I once kept me
“I’m here” I hear you shout in answer to my lonely cries
“I hear you, feel you express you!” but I have heard that echo before
Hollow yet hopeful words never replace the embrace of the meanest ones
It all crashes and crumbles before it was ever built sometimes
Sometimes its fall is its greatest feature and secures its immortality
Ten different eyes tell five different tales of one single event
The blankness has filled over time and changed before my eyes
Sometimes it really is what you make it to be and not a thing more
Sometimes

Saving the Lost- 3 From the Past

These are not new. These are from another page I had up, but stopped using once blogger gave me the labels. Now I am moving them to this page so that they will not be lost again. I hope you enjoy them.

The Failure of Success
Awkward moments combine to form life
Each a second we would rather re-do
But each moment of shame that comes to us each day
Are the essential parts of making someone into you
Success does not teach rather
Shallow, it only wants to show
That we could do what we thought we could
And leaves us without desire to grow
Self-serving fallacy of perfection
Leaves us squinting in the reflective successful glare
No advancement, no pass go, no experience gained
Blinded by the length of our stare
But failure is faithful and patient
With lessons only it can teach
To force you beyond what you know you can do
And grasp those stars you can’t reach
Failure and success, pro and con
One is for you and one serves its own need
Failure will make you better each day
And Success fears the day you succeed


Plaid Hallucinations
Wondrous tension of tide turning tunes
I puck the strings in harmony
Music of deepest darkest desire
Sing in a falsetto key
Plaid hallucinations frolic in fields of green
Splinters shaft and scream through the night
Sitting on ledge on first floor porch stairs
I have no fear at all at this height
Surrounding the scene in a wondrous dream
Watching blades of grass dance in the breeze
Thoughts calm and pure and although I’m not sure
I am peaceful, content and at ease



Playing with Alliteration
Randomizing words formulates complex thoughts above my ability to comprehend
Confusion is a curse compounded by the ever present tones of a reality out of hand
I ponder while perched upon a Pyrex structure about something I have never seen before
While I encase my environment in an envelope of shadow and place it in the basket by the door
Marvelous miracles make magic melodies while marionettes make up the audience for me
And I fall flat on my face while I fain ever present folly to control the fading fantasy
The show starts at noon and the gloom room balloons to a size beyond rational thought
The mirror turns shapes and shades of silhouettes into something I was but am not
No purpose to ponder in these prose of properly randomized words combined to form thoughts complex
And I cannot imagine or imagine I could imagine what babble I will come up with next

Nostalgia

I remember bits and pieces of poems from college
My eyes bleed if I stare too long
They bleed water and my soul hurts
They are random flashes of prose and imagery
Plastic nuns in leather habits
The weary-eyed crucified ladies of the labyrinth
Lining like cheerleaders to the apocalypse after-party
BYOB of course
Some are longer than others and feel almost complete
The dragon wandering without a flame
Playing by the rules, but losing the game
And in his acceptance he lost his might
Laying down and refusing to fight
I question if I will ever find a use for them
He’s looking for gold in a dark silver mind
With no flame to light his way, truth he’ll never find
And we are who he has to blame
For we are the dragon who’s lost its flame
And I wonder if I just did

Twas the Night Before Work

Twas the night before working
It is Christmas day
Nothing is open
And I have little to say
I slept very late
All snug in my bed
Without a thought of work
Occupying my head
My refrigerator is stocked
For the stores are all closed
I short-changed myself on soda
I drank more than I supposed
So ration I must
And ration I will
Pouring each glass with care
Not to cause the slightest spill
And I sit on my computer
Cat on my lap
Hair all disheveled
From my long evening’s nap
Sipping my soda
With the greatest of care
In hopes that tomorrow
Some soda will still be there
As I slowly wake up
And the fog leaves my eyes
I start to wrap this up
As I start to realize
I have nothing to say
Except one last wish:
That my soda lasts today
And you have a great Christmas

Poem: Fractal Crackles of Starless Night

Bored babble ramble
Stoned and High
On fumes of herbal decree
I see
The light at the end
My friend, it is all illusion
The confusion, the spectacle
A reflective table
In the corner for the coroner
Funeral procession traffic stopping side show parade
Things will fade
Over time, sublime feelings collide with wondrous glee.
I see the river fade into the sea
Memory can falter but history will remain
In the window pane fractured
Fractal crackles of starless night
The plight of the bumble bee
Seems so redundant to me
In the hindsight of perfect vision
I wish that it would all just stop

Poem: Thoughts Hovering Cloudy

Standing on the shore beneath the crest of an incoming wave
Not bothering to take shelter or seek safe haven
Not bracing for the impact of the water crashing down
Because it’s just some peace and quiet that I'm craving
The pain, the frustration, the hassle, the hurt
The evils I came to escape
Have returned and returned with assault and assault
And no help comes to my cries of “rape”
Standing on the shore beneath the crest of an incoming wave
Is this anguish all part of some scheme?
The shore of the beach was relaxing and pure
Have I been in prison and the beach was a dream?
A breeze flows through a window crowded by bars of satin and steel
Metaphorical in nature, of course
The wave takes shape and stalls in the sky
Above my head, awaiting signs of remorse
And I look back on my life and the choices I’ve made
Re-examine my moments of fear
Take stock of the times I was heroic and brave
Plead my case to the judge in the mirror
Standing on the shore beneath the crest of an incoming wave
And standing ready for the water to fall
The shore, a cell, makes no difference in the end
It’s just how you perceived it all.