For 15 years I have tolerated,
calculated, anticipated, sublimated workplace degradations, derisions,
subversions towards my character,
not today, no more,
yes, my pride has become livid, swollen like a bad bruise on the heart
and I apologize not for my self defense & righteous roil,
I will address you as the mean spirited scoundrels that you are,
no more 'boss - employee' boundry, just one human to another,
No fascade & title to prance behind, no longer above reproach from the lesser,
you are now entering the shock of the 'dead-fall' ,
buck you and your low wages, buck you and your perfect policies,
buck you and your work ethic 'mumbo jumbo',
buck you and the lame insults and false criticisms perpetrated
against my innocence and motivation,
buck you with your attempts to undermine my positive leadership,
buck you and your inconsistent hours
making a God damn yoyo out of me, buck you and your bonuses,
buck you and your preposterous training videos and ridiculous high school uniforms,
buck you and the belittling psychological questionniares connected to your applications,
buck you and your little managerial conclaves
which produce absurd machinations targeting the hourly employees
that make the place profitable,
wipe your cracks with your silly 'write ups' and legal circumspection bull-slit,
I am not your 'bro.' or 'buddy' , and I sure as shout am not your 'honey' ,
not today, not anymore
I will not allow you to treat me as a tool for your benefit,
I will no longer work faster so that you can save money & leave earlier,
you will no longer be permitted to laugh at me without redress,
you are now dealing with a Man, not just another employee number,
don't worry 'boss', I'll continue to work, I'm not gonna 'quit' ,
but I will not work for you, I am going to work with you,
today is a New Day -
J.A.B. Dedicated to all hard working Men and Women -
Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2013
Gone is the time to fear any omen
bubbling like a city of fine women
fate never assumes
as bad luck so fumes
the hour has come as life says amen.
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2017
In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores
for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `
Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
The red album, The blue album , The White album
Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
Ringo's face , something hard to understand underneath~
I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears
For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence
Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died
I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it "
No .. this was not my hero in music and song .
he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes
bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss
One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
his world of secrets
He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
The very sad long and winding Road ~
Let us Bury our real Paul.
No more " Mystery tour "
No more fear
Let him be in peace ~
Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
To be in a young America ~
visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July
thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen
films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain
exciting new visions of creating new concepts
before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see
The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood
American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom
How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?
When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles
Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream
leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time
Cereal being a cheap snack for after school
school supplies costing twenty dollars
Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty
before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~
2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp
Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question
The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice
Never forgetting our Motor city
Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye
What happened to us ? Where did America Go ?
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
The wilderness in Arizona during cowboy days was for the adventurous to journey far away from their home front into the great divide where wolves and coyotes could take their lives. They were skilled hunters and master trappers that could spot a prairie dog close ready to go up their trousers. With two horses in travel, one for each, one would take a break to stretch a bit. The mountains appeared as a majestic landscape. Cowboys had made it to the badlands today.
Their journey for the common good and to find new country brought a mind-set and a certain hunger. Never to be dissuaded, even when one got discouraged, they will conquer their demons and be triumphant from their troubles. As they camped at night, they spoke on destiny. The altitudes they had to sustain were just an achievement once claimed. Why ponder on what could be lost when they came to summit? The acmes they face now. He stands to see the apogees and views the mountains before proceeding.
Cowboys in the badlands are oblique.
Cowboys in the badlands are circuitous.
Cowboys in the badlands are seekers of faith.
Today is a day not to abandon.
Two cowboys will become jovial and rich.
Cowboys in the badlands are self-fulfilled.
PENNED ON OCTOBER 09, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
A poem wrote by me, based on Person who is a deserving icon but still struggling hard with his career life and addressed as disturbed creature.
DISTURBED CREATURE--> Am I ?? BY Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare
Am I so insane, Am I so mad,
Dramatic mood of mine is so die hard.
Destroyed my peace, Shattering my dreams,
People call me as disturbed creature.
As like mounting the pain, attenuating the drain!!
Digesting my feelings lying inside me,
Strangely nobody cared, call me sick.
Teasing me lavishly and my heart is pricked,
Hurted me like hell when addressed me as stupid.
As like showering rain, missing on the lane!!
Time lapse in journey of life,
Can hamper anybody on its path.
When I see innate reflex of mine,
I always use to brightly shine.
Though possessing every job attributes of mine,
I never thought the authorities will ditch and hamper my career line.
Falsely acting bloody swine, making my image as fade as wine.
As like affecting harmonious divine, my soul was, as is transparently pristine!!
Destroying me and testing my patience, Never wanna give up.
Transformed deviations, wanna rightly screw up.
I wanna raise up, I wanna shake up.
I wanna wake up, Tranquilize my mind.
Unzip the professional life compressed by the culprits.
Wanna explore myself, driving the motivated heights of journey.
Lastly waiting for the optimistic opportunity.
Cuffing the suspect ,I wanna rejoice by my pattern of life!!
with Suyog Pagare
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013
How often do you visit the Library? And what do you see?
I see oceans and seas of books plus a homeless man doing zzz’s..
He’d apparently been reading before, he fell deep asleep.
He can stay there, they say, as long as he doesn’t lie down to sleep.
Sitting up is OK and of course, as long as he doesn’t create a scene.
He’s kind and gracious and a little strange but can debate any role
When he walked over, we had a talk about the devil verses mind control.
Without asking, what he really wanted was someone to buy him lunch.
There’s a McDonalds two doors down from where we were bunched.
I don’t know what I expected when he woke up and looked around.
But when I asked if he was homeless he wasn’t fazed at all.
Yes, I have been for a while, he said, but my boat will soon come in.
And I realized the library is a warm, safe place to relax and to be.
And the librarians seem content to just let him be.
In the end, I was sorry I couldn’t buy him that lunch.
But recently, my abilities to do so had become a little stretched.
I used to buy the books I read… now the library is more my taste.
I just hope if it comes to that… he’ll graciously share this place.
The library even has computers from where you could write.
And the people there are varied and really rather kind.
I’m on the edge but whole family’s once prosperous are already there.
Cheap hotel rooms in even cheaper hotels, once skirted are full.
The jobs don’t pay for anything more. They are: Bitter, Disgruntled, Lost.
Needed are better and more jobs to re-establish the American Dream.
To give them some hope so they can go back there again…
And don’t just act toward them… like they’re your library man…
Give them back their American Dream as best you can.
Voice of Reason Contest
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2011
Bundle of rules elongating the short distance between a problem and its solution
Unnecessary layers compulsorily placed on a mounted ladder with very few steps
Road expectedly smooth and direct is created with uneven stones and many bends
Every step is an independent process making the system tiring and liable to corruption
Alternating procedures and changing routes heavily function in the handling of issues
Under these so many ambiguous limbs is the fertile ground to germinate yet more problems
Complication storms out of these processes lined up in a queue with undefined relevance
Rare is the accuracy of timing respected as it is bastardized in five to ten folds
Add-ons a very possible side effect embracing the commotion of the mercy of many hands
Cruel is this system, especially in the 21st century of advancement in data processing
Yet loved by establishments of worlds without regard to maximizing human services.
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016
Fort Clatsop is up and true,
50 feet square, with a smokehouse, pallisades, barracks and two gateways
furnished from the aromatic and reliable wood of the great Fir trees,
we keep busy by scraping elk hides for clothes, making moccasins, hunting
and boiling sea water in kettles to manufacture a nutritious salt,
the Clatsop Indians are not the onery thieves that the Chinook are,
in fact, they are merry hustlers with fine things to trade,
the Clatsop chief, Coboway was in fort today, smoking and learning how we leather stitch
when I began negotiating for his sea otter robe,
a fur of extraordinary waterproof warmth and deep colored beauty
several layers ringed, overlapping one another like roof tiles
with a thin elk hide underneath
the length of a knee cloak with the incandescence of morning mountains
snowy whites, granite greys and cool browns,
I believe that is why Clark and I are contending for it,
that rare robe reminds us of the Rockies, the rugged majesty,
Coboway isn't being simple though, actually he's being a prick about it,
refusing all sorts of neat and valuable things
and then Sacagawea comes into the room shakin her meaty hips around
and the chief comes to life and says he'll trade for her beaded belt,
Clark looks at me like hey, not fair
because he knows I can get Janey, Sacagawea's American name,
to give it up for my blue velvet coat that she just purrs for,
Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2015
No curse words allowed
are you confused, lost, ignorant
you are no artist, you have shunned art
and its true purpose
what is art? but an expression
the low and vile are the most potent
Did you forget, Emerson The Poet
He would call you "selfish and sensual"
"an umpire of taste"
"proof of the shallowness of the doctrine of beauty"
in a world of suffering, of loss
Art isnt happy, and flowers in the park
you, in your confusion, hide in the dark
hide any truths of pain and suffering
and by doing so you have lost your soul
You are only half a person
art is an expression of life and its hidden
what is in a word? something to hide from?
something to fear? to censor? to fight?
are you that ashamed of language?
honesty? expressions of shame?
You are no poet, no artist
you are no immortal,
of course you are so cowardly and weak
you will hide from me, censor me,
avoid the truth, lie to the world
if you cant stomach a curse word
then you cant handle me
any immortal would crush you
and leave you wounded
truly contemplating your life
breaking you open, forcing you alive
then, maybe then, you will have an emotion,
worthy of expression into art.
but dont get mad at me, angry or hurt
You may just use a curse word
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2009
If its money I got its money ill keep.
If its money I have its money ill weep.
If its love that I give its love ill receive.
For I am but no one who just see's beneath.
Some say your only as strong as you feel, but how could we change..in a place that's so unreal. People are hearing but..not really hearing. Why is the world so blind. I keep on screaming and screaming and screaming for things to be revolutionized. I am just a small song in a world full of cries, laughter, tears and french-fries.
Copyright © Sam Ruby | Year Posted 2013
The truth is that we are the people of North America mixed by the blood that existed via the birth of a nation. We have no biblical presence as given. We are Social Theological Studies. No God was there for us. We became a government formed from earth. We are generations discovered. We are the blood matured and mutated from origin, immigration, and enslavement. We state our allegiance and our beliefs to a greater source. We are worshipers of The Unknown God. Although we may use the given epithet by the Hebrews, Jews, and Gentiles - Jehovah God Lord – this, to us, is the unknown God.
1. A political-religious focus delivered through a Humanities model.
2. A socio-activist voice that will address the Humanities situation.
3. Social Theological Studies searches for a greater way that captivates the
mind and embellishes the soul.
Through empirical research via a mixed method, Social Theological Studies will investigate our biblical presence as the formation of living via structure. Poetry and philosophy ethnography of ideals, beliefs, creeds, a family way (ethnomethodology), etc. will be composed through a multidisciplinary model, which involves and is a Humanities approach.
We did not evolve. We were discovered.
This is a casual model that represents two variables, which are discovery and evolution to our time of metaphorical evolution to the creation of a nation.
As stated, we have no Biblical presence given. We are committed to this sense-datum of a nation (United States of America) origin and birth because…
Only through iniquitous content does a wrongful world exist or hold capacity. Thus, this hold true to a governess of a country.
The credibility and quality of this project is authentic in research via observation, interviews, case studies, etc. that semblance of truth refers to research findings that are consistent with occurrences in the ‘real world.’
Written June 25, 2016!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2016
Use it against them. Im still in my, I can see the double dream happening. Everyone is happy because they want u to leave them alone. Yout inner soul is your GPS, but again it gets to the point where you want more so you are chasing a high a feeling of no problems and no worrying of anything. Chasing hi= utopia land of good feelings.
Everyone keeps saying, well i could have, i could have but i didnt do it. Quit talking about it. There is a war in my brain telling me to stop but continue its slow brute war continously fighting. I see from the outside now. This place is a large trap waiting to bring you inside. Night Brings Creature comforts, nice women nice weather, everyone is happy but it is a trap. You are stuck in this world or really not having it but oh so close. Tomorrow or the next day. It will happen, they continue to say but when no results come, it is always you know i could have if i wanted to but i didnt. Walking down an Endless road. Everday feels as if it was groundhog day. Ek is very confused on why Ek has a bruise. OPening a door at the house, fighting another guy,and football are the options. What is really the truth? Are you living a continous ground hog day and memory dump? It is just so weird, I want out or do I? Ek can not keep the words from flowing out of the mouth. Operation is compromised. It was done to make the appearance seem what it is not but it is killings in the long run. I have to stop it from leaking out. As my head reads the screen from left to right, my body becomes glued to the seat and I cant move. Time races and the meter runs up. Concentrating hard as the words begin to flow more and more, time continues to fly and I cant focus anymore. I can still see the sweat rolling down my face. EK turned on the faucet. Words pour out tlike water as people are left to die from thirst. Millions of gallons of water has not leaked out but with time a million will seem like 2 dollars. I am beginning to wonder why I can not move. My feet are submerged, my knees now. I keep reading. The Night Bringing Creature comforts begin to listen harder to Ek and everything that comes out quenches their thirst. Ek is blinded by the bright faces seen. What Ek cant see is the mirror held in front of the Night Bringing Creature comforts. mirrors hide their true identity and reflects something else. The water is up to my chest now. I see I can leave and I do. As I'm outside, I look in to see Ek has ran out of water. He knows. He prays.
Copyright © greg bell | Year Posted 2013
Tumbleweed Billy And One Eyed Sam
Banked off jagged hills, pushed on by memory
Cause and effect took turns churning the sidewinders
Tumbleweed Billy and One Eyed Sam (The patron Saint of snake eyes)
Dragged down from on high by a freak flood
Through swollen gorges flushed with raging waters
From melted mountain snow with a long way to go
Two cowpokes gathered up by ancient storms without warning
Compounding the Pounding past the sandy canyonous rocks
Crashing through dams along the flooding passage
Tumbleweed Billy and his one eyed friend rolled into town
They came to rest at Rusty Bottom, a dusty town
Released their grip on a sturdy timber log
That brought them there all wet and muddied
With wind against their backs
That swept them up to view the Last Chance Saloon
Looming over there
This brought them to their feet to mossy over
They moved like prestidigitation fakes, hankering for a drink
Taking whiskey down like magic water
Then set out their pedestrian plan there on the table
To take this western town down by gambling pranks
Quick digits formed their sleight of hand
Children suddenly appeared before the strangers
Seemingly from nowhere on the action
The two cowpokes glanced back at them like spies
Sam scared them with his missing eye
Covered by a black patch, looking kinda pirate like
The other clouded, milky white, piercing, with limited sight
Billy grants the young ones wishes on the spot to settle them
Magic to be perfected and performed above a pending storm
He rolls one die. A one comes up. A snake eye
An omen more visible than not
This made the children fear an awful lot
Dice played a major role for his desires and devices
He kissed them twice for luck then vanished in their cast
Tumbleweed Billy rolled out of Rusty Bottom Town
Taking his dice and the bad eyed man
In a singular milky white last lost glance around
On the same south winds now gone from town
Both sidewinders de-materialized, vanished in that instance
As though they never existed
Invisible, never seen before, never seen again, as foe or friend
As for the children; who gambled on the chance of magic
Got exactly what they asked
And what was granted when they first wished it
For the two to disappear
Tumbleweed Billy and Sam were gone as quickly as they came
And no one really missed them or their game
That is; their tricks, dice and way of life
Their little slice of paradise
9/16/14 Cowboys in the badlands – Poetry contest
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
Darkness spreads around the room as the lights dim, my friends are here and the room is pitch black. Begin the show. Eyes open preparing for what many call death but its life. This is considered living and not to be mistaken with death. Those new to it will not know how to think what about what just happened. Cold chills and sweat pants are in the seat. Room still dark and people disappear to a known place only described by the dead. No time is wasted because time never began. As the entities push thru the black matter the after burners kick on and the room brightens. The room is now full. The thought of the friends i had filled the room and was too much to handle time to make a dash. The pressure is intense. I believe my wallet was lost years ago but no use in looking for it now. The chain broke at the same time I needed it to work. Gone. Seemed like forever. I created forever and now we are there. What if you were the person who taken the last key to starting the end of the world?
Copyright © greg bell | Year Posted 2013
before labor unions came into existence businesses were run like monarchies
where those in positions of power treated the workers atrociously
no sick days, no overtime, no vactions and no minimum wage
and some work place conditions were worse than an animal's cage
but throught the grace of God and American ingenuity
the laborers joined together and the unions came to be
organized for the advancement of the shared interest of the work force
a confederation of laborers who at one time had no recourse
fired without cause, no work injury compensation and hardly a lunch hour
but with the labor unions now in place the workers have a measure of power
bargaining for health insurance and decent salaries
negotiating for better conditions and job security
thank God for the unions as collectively we band
one for all and all for one, united we now stand
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2009
Many there be have turn their backs to thee/
No sense of remorse,
No notion of integrity or respect/
You stand so proud with your head in the air/
Waving your hands like you just don't care ?
But none the worse for wear,
Heroes Are Not Forgotten !
Those men and women who have waved the banner high !
With every bit of stregnth that have fought with no remorse,
We often get tongue tied within ourselves/
In the great melted pot we call The United States of America,
It was for freedom that our ancestor's fought to so desperatley uphold/
Far too many of us take it for granted !
They have eyes but tend to look the other way/
Paying litle to no homage to buw their heads to pray ?
One day every knee will bow and tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord !
There will be no mistake about it !
Those that pierced his side and pulled his beard/
Many say that us Christians are wierd/
You will know on that very day that he's not someone that you could play !
Heroes Are Not Fogotten !
Just look what that ass did Ben Laden !
We need to speak up now or forever hold your peace/
This world for some is a will for power,
Perhaps your all in need for a long cold shower/
Stay up late to listen to the radio The Hour Of Power !
No, Heroes Are Not Forgotten in this land of cotton !
We will lift up our head high to look toward the sky/
As a beacon of hope to a hurting worls in need/
Where as other's are just dying to see you bleed,
We will remember John Wayne in this old house of pain/
Bob Marley and The Wailer's,
Ronald Reagan and his awesome plans !
Last but the best Jesus is my man !
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2010
Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
His cards weren't drawn yet he reeked of falsehood
eyes twitching back as he, in the hall, stood
Watching the room, the players at hand
watching and waiting and hatching a plan
As he entered he knew that he couldn't retreat
shuffling...shuffling... His cards and his feet
The faces all watched as he entered the room
their gazes threatening an imminent doom
But the queen would never make his heart break
the king's many diamonds not lure him astray
He learned not to play suits but to play personalities
the various suites were just technicalities
With his tricks almost over, the game almost won...
he was escorted out at the hands of a gun
You see the royalty just won't let you play poker
Not when they find it's at the hands of joker
Copyright © An Anomaly | Year Posted 2016
I am the hunter with belt and sword.
I am captivity and desires searched for.
Great my name has become.
My dynasty is vast.
I stand for truth and honor.
Many have tried to defeat me.
Many I have defeated.
I am glory and shame in a world devoured.
So overwhelmed that we sputters to speak but overcame undefeated.
I am Law and Justice.
My government is Monarch.
I am the Emperor and Judge.
My engagements are that of Poet and Philosopher
edification to instruct my people out of darkness.
So obfuscated they splutter to speak but I am there as their teacher.
Mystification is our world.
Those who find us are forewarn that we are given life by God;
therefore, we are sentient to what is said.
If he or she sojourns, he or she must learn our ways.
So distinguished we are.
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
A Resolution for This Time
(Based on Eccl. 3:1-15)
©2011 C. Brent Cloyd
I long to see the beauty of my time
Hear music from eternal bells that chime
Enjoy earth, till this good life I sever
Look toward heaven that last forever
I’ll grasp my part in each life occasion
Banish thoughts and deeds of ill persuasion
Accept God’s design for each life season
Submit that I need not know His reason
I will celebrate life so wondrous born
Understand that death is not always scorn
Propagate goodness and wholeness in life
And uproot that which causes pain and strife
I’ll concede it’s sometimes proper to kill
But until convinced I’ll promote goodwill
Useless things I will tear down and destroy
Then plan to build, and work efforts deploy
I will comfort the hearts of those forlorn
Together find God’s healing as we mourn
Dare to dream, love, have hope, and take a chance
Embrace the moment, laugh, and learn to dance
I’ll speak with passion, let pieces scatter
Gather the fragments, avoid the chatter
Engage opinions, proceed with a shrug
When acceptable, open arms and hug
For things of value I’ll search at great cost
When searching is exhausted count it lost
When usefulness has ended, throw away
But don’t allow important things to stray
Now is the time to tear some things apart
Then with care I’ll mend and make a new start
Learn the lesson that silence is golden
Of words fitly said men are beholden
I pledge to hate what is cruel and unjust
Teach that kindness and fairness are a must
In war, anger and malice find release
But I’ll use my voice to encourage peace
Yesteryear’s events once again will be
To measure their success we wait and see
God’s deeds are good, lasting and without flaw
Of Him and His works I will gaze in awe.
Copyright © Brent Cloyd | Year Posted 2011
lost and weary soles
looking for their better half
at Auschwitz bone yard
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010
time ticks, what does life do? people say go with the flow but look at their lives and make your decision. choose a path a fly it true, never settle for less and by less i mean the amount that is more than you have. sing it clean and sing it fly. nevertheless do i seek new paths. was that a question or was that a statement? ask yourself, you have been waiting patiently. dont look to things for answers because you will be fooled by imitations. things that not need be named are nameless or did someone who isnt me just make that up. i heard from a wise man that a flower bloomed in a dark room, did you believe him? Still unaware of the time and now im late for an appointment that jumped starts my career but im wasted with the fellas in the street. No money in my pocket, no paper in my stash, ok fellas i gotta make a dash.
Copyright © greg bell | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
I can only begin,
To express what its like,
To have gone through such things,
As the crucible hike,
54 hours of torturing pain,
Which only got worse,
When it started to rain,
6 hours of sleep,
Issued 3 MRE'S,
5 recruits dropped,
Overcome by the heat,
After 2 days of hiking,
We were issued our masks,
Taken into a chamber,
Were we get CS gassed,
With the rest of our strength,
We head for the reaper,
Into the mountains,
We hike deeper and deeper,
80 pounds on our backs,
M16 to our side,
Ascending the mountain,
Screaming painfully inside,
The Reapers a monster,
It can swallow you up,
A truck had to follow,
To pick recruits up,
though it felt like forever,
We had finally arrived,
and sleep deprived,
Then the DI's scream out,
lets pack up our trash,
its time to head out,
So get off of your ass,
The hike back was torture,
But as we got back,
we ate a meal fit for warriors,
then marched straight to our racks,
Some thought they'd been dreaming,
Some wild cartoon,
But we had really overcome it,
As a team, a platoon!
Copyright © 2009 Zachary Jackson
Copyright © Zachary Jackson | Year Posted 2011
On this seashore djinn
Halcyon echoes ebb and flow
Cauterized banter scrapes by
As bath water bubbles march together
At the dock yard dalliance
Ruffled men shake their sails
Top hats and whales nailed down
Striking the flash iron for new waves
Dress up ladies dash their spice
Holding tongue for murmurs and rights
A fine detective ensemble segues
Family dinner bells and porch lights
We are all splashed around
Anchors down and cartons crashed
Searching for the right trade
To mingle and go on our way
Copyright © Justin Debrosse | Year Posted 2012
Tim Hortons hired just the girl
who laughed to fill the time.
The others being just as pleasant
would laugh along in rhyme.
Their work would keep them very busy
while rhythm kept their beat.
Together they were off and dancing
with passion in their feet.
As customers came to rushing in.
Their line began to sway.
The radio from above going on
that each enjoyed the stay.
With service being fast for most.
This day a customer's dream.
The passion being felt by all
and all the Horton's Team.
Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2016
There is a dividing line between the chasm fault
Some are eager & content to appear righteous yet
They are only fooling themselves through a dance
One in twain marked on its blotted page yet fully intact
Working too hard can give anyone a heart attack
Lines have been drawn in the sand
When will we ever understand?
The visible from the invisible yet now were caught in the middle
Some our eager and content in playin second fiddle?
Clearer heads have prevailed yet
There is still known torture from within my friend
One will take the time out to listen
A sign of grace spread out upon a peyton place
Circumstances all for second glances?
Yet the heart from within will surface again
Fought back the tears with a smile still to know all the great while
A pen on a paper a stereo to caper
Me & Eric b & a nice cool plate of fish
Sorry to have missed its waiting bliss
In agony we will begin to see
A misfortune to a heightened reality as a key
Soaring ever higher then ever before reaching great heights
Shattered fragments on the pavement floor
Some are eager & caught in vice
perhaps another chance or a roll of the dice?
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2012
Small and grotesque was the young man,
Small by nature and small in heart.,
Love sought not to grace his soul/
Betwixt/ Without emotion he wasn't whole ?
He lacked sensitivity and a heart.,
For never he spared time for the good/
Spitting on life's values like black death !
Wished Hell on others and gave one last breathe /
Take me with you and be my saviour !
Hellish like eyes wishing dirty deals/
Slimmy hands planting evil seeds of death.,
Depth was his mind into rok and hole/
Letting Satan come in his body !
Before he knew him very well/
The hobbit went home to the doorstep of Hell !
Home at last at the Devil's house,
Proclaiming his love for sin and bad !
He valued to serve Satan and his fatal goons !
The hobbit will be back again sometime soon.,
His acts of sin aren't yet finished ?
This is in order to seal your doom !
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2010
The Devil has a lot
On His plate
Caught up in the
Path of Destiny
This is His fate
Tis where the Devil
Can find Thee
And He has never
The Lord has always'
Been there for Me
Make no mistake
Being the Angel of Death
Is His privy,
Lord knows' that the Devil
Will mark Eternality
Fore it is not of His time
Heaven is strictly meant
Lord knows' that there is
So much envy,
Only for lost love and
For the Devil hath such
He is beseeched of time
And finally He will kill
Ye, In the midst
Till the end of time
Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2011
The wrothful man has regotiated his saliency,
The humble man has neglected his post of "Your Excellency",
Let the pirate look through my one eye of transpareency,
Hope my superman sings along to those dracula's frequencies,
These are not Bulls written in pure fantasy,
Our fleur-de-lis and its very ecstacy,
Not meant for agilely minded Perverts,
Spliffs meant for Godly minds,exhalling Wisdom and Truth.. Selah
Reading to the salient ears of age,
Your teeth gleaning this vast ears of corn,
Seeing men's rage shorten their years,
Or what your ladies who smiled at my no-beard-style have become,
Easy skanking is what my ears hear,
A tip of God given talents,
Many a quail showering my Sweet Heart with "Works so excellent",
God breathes his creative spirit to minds We call "Salient", Selah
Copyright © Anthony Edmond | Year Posted 2007