Laws over user
Response in violation
I'ma violation of code?
Next sentence no jury
Immediately I lost control
Living is leaving without doors
Pre eminent domain the framers
Constitution
An earth in form
Assembled infantry
Order duty
Follow document
Intercept
Floored
Rent a right
Ambition dollar
Our articulate article
Misses print
Who sided with before, controversial
Higher orders, adjunct military professor of law
Stilled the fix of formatted text
The preferential abandon as treatment
Treat men
War with a battlefield of dying poor
My published records of ink in light
Stopped by outsiders having wishes of rewrite French crime
Penny contorts interest
Depriving satisfaction
Kreb a bus
Now undefine the cost of that writers right
In this absence if article documenting times
How is one literal
RUBENISTA watteau titan Rubens
colour
is king
as natural adjunct
in essential
write
to imitation
to
satisfy
the eye
as
rocco
is realised
I can’t just ignore how tight it hugs me
How it caresses through my soul
How it exposes pretence of innocence overhaul
A touch of it sending goose bumps all over me
I can’t hide anymore, from beautified macabre
Coz its radiance reveals my dark silhouette
The mask unmasked, pulled off and shoved off
Am its pushover, adjunct to its whims and in it swept off
I can’t resist how I slide along its gooey surface
Ever since its appearance, smoothening rough edges,
My entire itinerary requisite sufficed
Back and forth am pushed, taking past hooey serious
To extremities that I could dare not imagine were precious
I sloth at time wasted on fingle-fangle,
With tremor and cowardice, had waved off
And wafted away pots upon pots of inviting cosset
But with it, my tour de force is world class and it I covet
The urge to stretch forth, pluck and sink my teeth
In both poisonous and supple, sweetened sour, to pleasure writhe
Lowering my bucket so deep in their pristine cisterns,
To just drink and drink from their forbidden cool rith
And quench my thirst, decade old thirst
As they call my name amid a bene placito!
Hi we wear
and cage
if we feel like peppered
if we ever awe by
worrying
if we ever contact
a cultivated mistress of excuses
and hardlucks
acids and gas are explosions
hey we may catch fire
if we will be remaining dim due to
a fatal fluke of one
we don't envy
because it kills or cracks love
who know may be
killing it at all
we don't despair
because it desicates and wilts
leaves and leaves them dry
nor live to suspect or mock
nor live to doubt or disgrace
nor envy the clouds
whose smile by virtue
is joy
we don't enjoin chagrin
because it doesn't reward minds
instead damn them
nor live by pretence
here and there
to mar and wear
oh! teachers fears
and poets and poets
for us is adjunct
to be saved from
becoming a new harbour of human immune deficiency virus.
I was born to a city. Once was that city,
grout and soot were my bloodline
I was in it that city, and it was in me,
my eyes were hundreds of windows,
thousands of street lamps.
I was hoodwinked and bounded
by the hoops of an encircling blight.
My child-body an extension of docks,
cranes and wharfs,
of grey schools on the drizzling corners
of grayer days, small narrow shops
on dreary cramped streets, roads strewn
with the detritus of poverty, all an adjunct
of my urban milieu.
I never imagined that another city existed,
one unknown to the drab and mean byways.
I felt I was the scaffolding of that place
and that which I did not belong to
was beyond my view.
I was the glue of my own stark world.
It was then a shock
when they said I was to be moved
to the country.
I wanted to ask - What country,
what manner of place
could my cityscape fit into?
Little by little, brick by brick
I shed the cement filled hollows
while a newer me
shorn of the pasts teaming crush
sought higher acres.
Green pastures taught me to fly
far from of that self
I was leaving behind.
The judges judged wrongly,
the wealthy mute the court,
poor masses cry,
for Justice is an expensive commodity,
the court murmur, mumble without bubble,
and adjunct the case till monday morning,
because money mute the judge.
Without trial, the deemer released a statement
for the accused, ten years imprisonment with hard labour,
the law is not loyal to the poor masses,
but friendly to the wealthy,
the deemer knows the criminal who commits the crime,
but money mute,
there is no equality before the law,
nothing like equality when the quality
Is in quantity and doesn't qualify the quality,
the masses cry for justice,
the Just become unjust,
poverty send many to prison without a crime,
wealth freed many criminals with crimes..
New semester.
Did my courses run?
Oh yeah, but too many.
Work on my syllabi.
I promise I won’t cry.
The night before class.
I pace the kitchen.
Sending prayers up.
Are you listening;
Please make my students be nice.
Calling my friends for advice.
First day of class.
Please impress them.
Some activity.
Get to know them.
At night memorize their names.
Two students named the same. (Always)
Long semesters.
Trudge across campuses.
In the rain and snow.
Am I at the right school-do you know?
My Google Assistant gave up long ago.
End of semester.
All my students cry.
I break my promise.
I let them see me cry.
We will be friends for a long time.
New semester.
Did my courses run? …
Had An Adjunct
We had an adjunct;
Truly bunch of bunk,
So had hid in trunk.
Jim Horn
Karl Marx thought that religion
Was the opiate of the masses,
Which is true as far as it goes.
In his times and in the circumstances,
He could not have thought better or worse—
Not, for instance, of the boomerang, that is,
The dialectic of Base and Superstructure,
Which could engender a hybrid like hegemony,
Which, in turn, enables ruling by consensus;
Not to speak of adjunct opiates
Like Freudian drives, drink,
Vulgar materialism and what not,
Which, in the past, have driven
Empires to break and kingdoms to crack
And, of late, in many ‘Democracies’ and ‘Republics’
Caused women, men, and parties to rise to power,
Caused (Swiss) Bank balances and vote banks to overflow!
— Ram, R. V.
Read My Poems Will Not Wait
Put poems in church newsletter, I certainly do dare
All poets say mine have become beyond compare
Can constantly forever hold you in suspense
Give in by reading poems and be one that relents.
My great poems have often been read out loud
Other poets with ability know that I am endowed
Even if going gets tough my poems must read
To fulfill numerous desires along with each need.
By God have been blessed with an extraordinary ability
To write verse well invariably in form of a soliloquy
When rationally trying to find rhyme and reason
They are both in my poems during any season.
God immediately helps me and He will not wait
And my moving reflux reaction is to regurgitate
Words up that at a time or two I was dreaming
More smoothly flowing while they were streaming.
Some say you like literally being a literary scholar
Maybe what you should do is to give Horn a holler
In church newsletter begin and start to advertise
Horn's poems which would be word to the wise.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
And Adjunct to the St. James Episcopal junk
Along with cleaning up tarnished landscape
Which to some is a sour grape.
The flying sent projections free to see,
from adjunct Astrals singing bold decree.
Perched on Pisces’s cusp, forsaking Plato’s cave,
Puppets casting shadows, chancing me a slave.
They hang from dreams of higher forms, allures
Contempt in self when loving carnal cores.
Haunted by women’s passions kept in Spirits,
Dawns my sleeping stages now inherits
Marionettes aloft eternal twists
of spinning truths with lies recalling trysts.
Killing prone volitions, changing essence.
Chosen starlight’s beings guiding presence.
Upon a love in purest form demands,
Forgotten suicides of ego strands.
Risking Pirsig’s fate in Zen and journey,
Waging sanity, a bounty worthy.
The stringing of my soul and bracing seeks,
A pulling truth beyond this death it speaks.
------------------------------------------------------------
Alternating stanzas of iambic and trochaic pentameter
**Anonymous Letter**
That's your lady playboy
left alone for a man like me.
Your failures create an opening
and your just to blind to see.
Penitentiary prone,
institutionalized!
your woman needs companionship,
and she found a sensitive kinda guy!
I'm adjunct in your absence
and put my bid in for tenure!
she's never had a man like me
who's stable and can treat her better!
That's your beautiful brown petite
being seduced by a man like me!
She is fed up, lonely
and tired of all your grief!
Jared Pickett
8/9/2014
Asavvy1
Joy, gaiety and jubilation,
Party, merrymaking and celebration.
It was a remarkable day of Reena’s life;
Within hours she would be her lover’s wife.
Dressed in exquisite Indian wedding outfit,
With complimenting gold jewelry
An adjunct to her beauty.
She felt like royalty,
Adorned with lavish embroidery.
Preparing herself to embark on the start of a new life,
Just when she realized that life is a boon;
Hit by a catastrophic tragedy,
Inundated darkness at noon.
The bright light and lark,
Turned into pitch dark.
Dismay and despair,
Her fiancé is no more.
Showers of tears,
Silence deafening to ears,
Over the years,
Only murkiness and gloom,
No flowers to bloom.
This is the truth of life,
It does shows its true color,
Once in a blue moon,
And brings darkness at noon.
let today be the present tense.
yesterday be the past tense.
tomorrow be the future tense.
let we be the parts of speech.
you are the noun there,
i am your verb,
you can make the pronoun to talk about the noun,
adverb can't stand without verb,
let adjective be verb which qualifies the noun,
noun you can have the company of preposition,
conjunction shouldn't come between us,
by seeing you i became interjection.
let your surroundings be the sentence.
you be the subject.
make your life verb.
make use of object,
you and you only be the complement.
don't adjust and go and become adjunct.
don't listen the idioms of some idiots.
we don't want to be homophones.
you are the main clause.
i'm your subordinate clause.
without main subordinate cant.,
this is life. enjoy it in grammar's way.....
Black storm clouds sweep across the sky
No where does one see a ray of light
Lost are all hopes all dreams
Pain no time can ever erase
Loneliness like a festering sore
A crying out for life, a need for love
A need to be held as never before
To be wanted and cherished
To be all to someone, not an adjunct
To have four walls that are one’s own
Familiar objects place and space
Not a puppet controlled by strings
Not an island one one’s own
Tired of oneself scared to start again
Madness within breaking through the flesh
A need for passion to inter-connect
Come cherish the rose in bloom
Before it withers and dies
Like a book unread and a song unsung
Useless waste swept away by time
(Poem written a long time ago).
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