Saw a friend for lunch; we meet
To talk of health and aging.
A cozy booth; we schmooze and eat,
Our changes up for gauging.
The negatives of age contrast
With pics of a vacation
So beautiful that they surpassed
Our senior state fixation.
Until at last, we split the bill,
The credit cards extended.
We signed our names and knew the drill;
Our lovely meal had ended.
I folded my receipt in two
And in the bag I carry,
I stuffed it, like I always do,
So very ordinary.
We said goodbye and headed out,
Where home for us both beckoned.
About the check, I had a doubt;
I’ll look at home, I reckoned.
An hour later, no receipt
Appeared, despite my searching.
I sadly must admit defeat,
A getting old besmirching.
Testosterone poisoning, there is no vaccine
That will keep this from killing all those in between
The coming of age and the coming unglued
Among one society segment imbued
With certain fixations which are second to none
When they fix on a target while coming undone
It can't be the tools they use in their trade
It must be some other trade-off we've made
For surely some illness is causing this schism
Besmirching what we know is exceptionalism
We have to get better with our institutions
Because we hold sacrosanct our constitution
Solutions will surely present themselves when
The sword remains mightier still than the pen
There's always exceptions proving the rules
And challenging history's only for fools
They always rush in where wise men refrain
We'll stay with the angels, we're holding the reins
This too, shall pass, it's happened before
It'll happen again, there's always one more
Misguided fool going off of the rails
Conservative minds will always prevail
Secure in the notion that right will make might
And the mighty will be sleeping soundly tonight
Season's decay paints the sky with autumn’s glow,
Etches each leaf with hues of red, yellow and gold.
Pastel shades of summer warmth are withdrawn from the show,
The tones of night are blackened blue, turned chilly and cold.
Ensnared by fate to fade to gray, the flowers do yield.
Murmuring their colors to leaves now dead and spent.
Belatedly, the leaves tumble to the ground, their past concealed.
Enwrapping the earth's lament in a patchwork quilt so resplendent.
Reflections dance upon the lake’s calm still face,
Fleeting mists loom in and settle, besmirching views once clear.
As life's pace slows, nature is content with autumn's lace,
Lulled to stall and beget another fall, in yet another year.
Life is expelled to pause as September withers away,
Surrendering its tapestry to the aberrant beauty of decay.
Be not becalmed, but busy, buzzy, bustling;
bedazzling but not bedraggled;
beloved, bewitched but be not besotted.
Be bewitching, but not belittling nor besmirching.
Begin to be -
become, belong, befriend, beseech, beget
Bewilder, befuddle, bedazzle,
Make bequests - beguile, beseech, bestow, bequeath,
to belay fate bedeviled with
what is not to be.
Beyond the buzzing, hustle and bumbling
be businesslike, but not belligerent nor bossy
Be bespattered with pollen begotten in harvest.
What is Truth?
2/1/2018
Of late, many use the media to establish a claim,
After retroactive years, I question, is revenge their game?
On harassment claims, some that happened years ago,
Is it publicity, a book deal, or settlement dough?
Some have flaunted assets to reach the ladders top,
And once successful determine, it’s time to stop.
While we never know for sure of the specific act,
The more times it’s repeated it’s often accepted as fact.
Some go through life hustling others as they go,
And besmirching another doesn’t always make it so.
You Don’t Have to Tell the Truth,
You Only Need to Convince The Media That You Are,
And many lives are being ruined
After being tried and found guilty in the court of public opinion.
Tom
Flakes as silent satin
Sail down salubriously
Dissipating into stupefaction
Hitherto ramming clay
They were the forlorn harbingers
Before a cataclysm of sposh
Burst through the firmament
Like a derailed locomotive
Besmirching any implement in ambit
The innocuous sniff of sposh
Vilifying my cranium
As with a burst of gore
Revivifying to the hub
After an interlude of rhythmic diminution and distend
A rapturous ardor of splendor
Garnering me into a frosty sphere
Of flakes and satin
Methinks it snows.
After considerable scrubbing, my attempt is in vain
Black blotches in my memory of you
Liturates my mind, still; It's too stubborn a stain
Every time I mentally scrape off the charcoal hue
Mud spatters all over it; besmirching it once again
Images of us keep cluttering my mind, it never clears
Stained, toxic memories of our failed love refuses to wane
Haunts me continually, after all these years
STANDARD CONTEST 195,any form,any,theme,upto a max of 8 (E I G H T) lines
Sponsored by Brian Strand (Winner: 1st Place)
Date written and posted: 08/21/2018
Police lines,
Flashing lights,
its a crime scene.
That is our beloved mother earth,
criminals cremated her morals,
her beauty they tarnished with their evil deeds,
turning her into a crime scene.
Lo! The heroes of yesterday are today's criminals,
criminals of today are heroes,
in this fallen land of ours.
Lies are carrying the crown,
ruling over the fading truth,
besmirching all it stands for,
turning honesty into fallacy,
all in the name of greed.
Indeed, our land is a crime scene.
Hear you our lamentations,
let our tears cleans our land,
let our loud resonating cries shush inhumanity,
Lo! hear you our cries.
My king, this message is for you
For a sleepless nightmare will rear its ugly head
I’ve walked through these perturbing corridors
I hear the voices of disloyalty
There will be screams, your screams, besmirching your magnificent name
No I will not fall, I will protect my breed
No matter how I feel my royal blood will not spill
It is hopeless to drown in tears
There will be no future for you
As for me I will preserve my heart
Escaping this unending bleed
My lord, where art thou
Please help us bear the burden
The queen is dead, protect us form a tormenting silence
It is a frightful conflict
Protect us, lead us, please
No, I have fled, I forbid myself to die
I can’t soil my legacy
Wasting my heritage wasting my purity
Or so he thought
Where the Osages' God almighty once reigned
The almighty dollar their proud life- blood drained
As man- made arteries pumped out the rich black oil
Making a mockery of their sacred soil
Their native American dream withered and died
A bounty built on bodies the thieves satisfied
Slick concords duped and dealt deceit
Gilt edged profit a one way street
Guilt hardened minds plundered their lands
Blood and oil both besmirching their sands
With their sacred lands profaned ,laid bare and dry
Vengeance is their spectral spirits' only cry
when i think of you
i think of your needs
or is it my needs?
... if you are alone or fulfilled
or is it my fulfillment i'm after?
your river of life,
turbulent ... as they are
yet waterfalls
of hope and promise
yet with banks of hardness
knots to unravel
mysteries to uncover
but are challenges
not suppose to be fun?
can i have fun?
tributaries with red herrings
little white lies
benign
yet swimming waves of beguile
besmirching the surface, veil
yet what can i do ... but smile, too
can i swim with you?
its the other tributary i yearn
you should see me ...
yet...
its your depository that snakes the river
or is it me wanting to make a deposit?
this is all alien to me
the irony here i roll my eyes ...
not the two peas in the pod
connie pachecho
3/24/17
Since she left me
Life's been a croc
And what pushes a dial
Are her red ants that taunt
... and at who's picnic do they smile
I hate of their bodies of march
L'il reds punishing me to no end
In this, my voice is parch
Yet words are penned
I write of her ... til my ashes
A pastoral of words
In my head they clash
Her tales, I cut with swords
She fights with closed eyes
Besmirching my aim
There were no goodbyes
Only sad ones in this game
I muse her swishing tail
And body of armor
Skimming the surface veil
And fending off my charmer
I tried to dial
And was met by more of her croc
Her red ants a smile
At the phantom key to her lock
Off to the sunset I see her tale
Swishing in my mind
I hope with the wind in her sails
e'er comes to book ...
it will be one of a kind
connie pachecho
3/12/17
The children went there once again
With food for those dismayed
They watched as love relieved their lot
And listened as they prayed
For these were simple country folk
Who raised the Bishop's ire
By spurning worship run amok
For hillside faith and fire.
Their preachers would not take the oath
No other shepherds matched
Now hunted by cruel men on horse
And to the wilds dispatched
The birds and sheep would share their psalms
And hear of faith hard tried
Now kirk-yard locked them up in shame
And starved them as they cried.
And hierarchy called the bunch
Crude radicals to tame
And strained at gnats while having lunch
Besmirching Jesus' name.
So let the children break the rules
With mercy in their bread
And learn from martyrs tried like gold
The Hope of Spirit-led.
https://issuu.com/deedub51/docs/looking_to_the_shepherd
I see the world and I see the light,
And what I see you shall see,
The world is changing as time goes on,
I hear the exertion and twinge of the leaders,
I smell the invigorate and besmirching of the outside world
My heart melted like ice at the changing cosmos,
Born into this terrain- feeling trapped in a cage
Though I beam, I see the glaze of green grass,
Just one fiber, situated in the relic grim,
Behold, It shall and will advance,
Throughout the extinguishing mural,
I see what I have seen,
Generation upon generation, Oh how we arise,
Life seems to be irresolute ,
It takes just one fiber,
One filament to advance and beget new things,
You can remodel the inevitable,
You can originate the route,
Life is all about distinct beginnings,
Don't let the light fade away,
The darkness will keep devouring all in its passage,
You can recover what's been disintegrated
ANGEL IN THE RAIN
Last eve heard my prayer that I would awake to a rainbow
And only the mistiness would know how it would go
Oh and I awoke to see the colors that so blessed my eyes
While at the edge of that rainbow the rarity of an angel cries
I hear her loudly weeping from far above
Bemoaning the besmirching of yesterday’s love
Perhaps rainbows only appear to soothe an angel’s heart
Until a multi-tinted pallet and the sky are made to part
There then is left but a memory born by the blue
And only a hint of what the heavens can do
Rainbows can appear and disappear at will
Yet weeps that woe filled angel still
The sky turned blue a bit later on
Once that reverent and radiant rainbow was gone
Mine is cold comfort when a coal colored sky finally clears
Until another angel dries that weeping angel’s tears
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