**"And his name was Jack"**
No one perceives what abides above the clouds.
A giant, a harp, maybe golden eggs.
I demand to see and feel, before I believe.
A castle, a dream…. I want the magic beans!!!
I'm the daughter of a farmer.
I have a donkey to ride, a story to tell.
“Jack and the Beanstalk”; my favorite tale.
Once upon, a morbid dawn.
I inhale a tiny simple yawn~ I levitate like the sun.
I head out the door, towards the markets shore.
I grabbed my ass to stroll along the open path.
My shoes aim out to the nearest creek.
My ass and I desired a drink.
There I saw an old Englishman, sitting on a log.
It looked as if time was approaching his brink.
In his hand, he had a sack.
A bag, a bag, embroil of ivory and black.
His eyes were not from this ground.
His body fragile, he uttered a moaning sound.
He was of dirt.
I was pure.
He pledged his life to me.
I debated.... with many thoughts,
Although his eyes...
My eyes... Will never meet again.
I want what is in the bag!
He said, "I'll give you anything for that ass.
My legs and bones can’t hold up on their own, no more!”
I knelt down to where he sat.
Smelling his essence of rot.
I reached forward and grabbed his only baggage.
He said, "This bag is all I got!"
I answered, "And this sir is a fine ass."
He replied, "I have no cash."
Scowling at him, “No I want your demon seeds!"
How my blood grew thin...
Inhaling and exhaling out his sin...
The old man all shriveled and timeworn,
Propose the birthright of the seeds.
Yes, plant them! Plant them...
I cried excitedly!
He pats the field.
Said there I am done.
Now clock as it expands.
To breed this story short...
He dispense his seeds.
AND, I GAVE HIM MY ASS.
Lol... BY;PD (for seed contest)
"Made In China"
They can have my money
If it saves me money
The toys I played with when I was young,
Says I enjoyed their hands
The Labels read
"MADE IN CHINA"
The cheap material on my back, the shoes I wore.
How easily they faded and tore
However, I enjoyed their hands
The Tags on my rags;
"MADE IN CHINA"
The car I own saves money on gas
A tiny Honda Civic, takes me everywhere
I love my sweet silver car
"Manufactured in China"
The never been used--Made in the USA--cookware I own,
Says, I don't work hard at all:)
Yummy to Chinese all you can eat take Outs
Thank you China for being part of this world
Thank you China, for making this world a part of yours.
MADE IN CHINA
Shipped easily in a box
My butt crack
Is quite a split
It supports the rest of me
when I sit
you thought I was gonna say something else didn't you ?
My butt crack
Is a marvel to behold
It was cute when I was young
but now offensive since I'm old
My butt crack
Is pretty darn straight
can you imagine if it was crooked
pretty weird sight I would rate
My butt crack
Is funny to me
when I bend over in my jeans
It peeks out
for you to see
My butt crack
wanted me to write this today
for no other reason
then just to say......................
I gotta split
Eric (and sometimes not)
3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison
High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies
Lemon yellow coated walls,
Like their smiles
Comparisons of dangling Porsche & Bentley keys
A glorified day care center,
The muted virtuosos speak softly in hymn dialects.
Courtesy laughter in snob’s octave
Their heads twitching side to side,
Left to right to left
An equilibrium facing assault charges against self
They slow dance to cello dreams
And E minor dividends
Two-step monotone, sway
Against platinum lacquer foundations
But, it was then.
These same socialites,
Made of recycled candle wax
And rubberized, hedge-fund confidence,
Began to stare longingly at the party host’s 70 inch plasma TV
Proudly imported from China
“Attention uptight snobs of Mecca!
The city zoo has imploded!
The monkeys revolted!
The zebras were tired of being racially profiled!
Run for your LIV…!”
And before the reporter’s frightened inner child could finish’s his clause,
An elephant crashes into the decadent room
Filled with Crisp linen scents of Febreze & judgmental fear
It stares at the socialites,
Laughing heartedly as it playfully stomps away into constellation’s onyx night
As tears waterfall from the snobs’ sobbing eye sockets
As if they just listened to another Celine Dion song
The real newsflash
Metaphors played hooky today
©Drake J. Eszes
Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.
Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.
Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.
God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."
(Submitted to Heather's Famous Couples/Duos contest. I hope you all like!) :)
“Save me, Mario & Luigi!”
As they both read the Princess’ distress call,
Written in dark cherry lipstick on his walls
“Mama-Mia, I just painted this damn thing”, Luigi whined.
They ride off into smiling clouds’ horizon
Knocking out hopeless Goombas & misunderstood Turtle shells
Rapidly exhaled hustles over flagpoles and grassy valleys
To see who will capture her 1st kiss...and NOTHING MORE
Towards that immense castle in the sky,
They climbed against its walls like two dogs in heat for the 1st time
Into un-screened window archways, they dive in
Their eyes stare threateningly against the Dinosaur-Lizard cross-breed reject
Mario & Luigi begin dropping mushrooms to see stars and taste invincibility.
But, like this battle, it only lasted 10 seconds!
For out from the Onyx darkness, a new hero emerged
Green, not with envy, but of Greek god magnificence
And a strut that would make a pole dancer jealous
He struck down with such brute force, tearing down the gates of Heaven & Hell
Jesus & Lucifer were pissed
It was Yoshi the dinosaur!
With one fell swoop & a high pitched Braveheart-style cry,
He starts dropping eggs like he’s been ovulating for days
Tossing them with such focus & epic awesomeness against his enemies
Knocking them down one by one
He gracefully sweeps up the Princess, staring down towards his enemies
In a condescendingly lifted face, places an old-school Boombox on the ground
With loud decibels of MJ’s “Don’t stop ‘til you get enough!”,
Yoshi pulls out & drops the mic, embracing gravity’s last word
The Princess devilishly smiles at her new green hero and rides him into the sunset.
©Drake J. Eszes
Nothing in the world so disarming,
so charming in it's domain.
Across a crowded room or two feet away
it's all the same.
The shortest distance between two people
despite any other claim.
Is for now and will forever be
with no denial the human smile.
So far I've done everything I could possibly do this year.
I've given thorough thought to cleaning up my act.
These early-day hours have been rough-house
The storm shudders inside me are all grimy, they need tending to,
I just need to find them first.
So tired from last night,
Riding unicorns through the stars.
(No one believes me.)
Trouble is we're all blinking too fast for our own good as it is.
I've done everything I've promised to do this year, so far,
And I haven't even made the promises yet.
That's how interesting I've been lately.
You have no idea how hard it is to be this interesting.
Riding Bellyglow through the thrushes of song birds...
I probably don't know, either.
What a bucket of letters this is.
Thanks for Peking, thanks for Hong Kong.
Happy New Year.
Sitting in a cloak of black conservatism:
I feel my hands,
oily on the desk like shortening in
slate gray cookie pans,
the speedway inside forcing the absence of
And my thoughts,
so flippant to implore
if a man with a chartreuse neck tie
can see the long wet streaks
across the cherry plane.
a sequence of interrogatives
common to the bored walls
of serious conference,
evoking tone inflection
in the pattern of polite.
Darest I mention truth?
I am your whore;
infect me with smug integrity,
smack me with false prophet leadership,
just leave some crisp bills
on the nightstand, sugar.
Yet my voice models his wavelength,
relaying back the catchy tired language
of one hit wonders;
from the man who owns a chartreuse tie.
awards a loaf of Wonder bread,
and a two bedroom lower.
This is just for fun..=)
In the basement of my heart
there is a basement
and in that basement there are two basements.
You open one
and enter the basement
only to find out there is yet another basement
That basements basement
was light and blue
But that basements basement
from basement to basement you walked
until you couldn't anymore
The basements basements
basements basements basements
basements basements basements basement
of my heart.
You found my love...