Best Automatically Poems
I lived in Shenzhen, China, for my 6th and 7th grades - China was AMAZING.
In China, blond hair is unusual, I stood out like neon and touching blond hair was considered good luck.
In a train station, if I stood still, I could draw a curious mob - especially in the provinces like Heubi and Shanxi. I was in more than a few selfies but people were polite and respectful.
China is much more advanced than the U.S..
Everything is new, clean and modern - the Internet is faster. Most trains are bullet trains that travel 325kph (>200mph). There are more than 10 new, gleaming cities larger (and newer) than New York.
An App called WeChat (used on your phone) runs the world. Imagine Facebook, iMessage, PayPal and Uber combined - with that one App you could do anything.
At restaurants, you paid your bill at your table using WeChat from a QR code that the electronic corner of your table displayed. You even paid street vendors with the app - no one used cash.
Cameras are everywhere - if you break a law like jaywalking and BBBZZZZ you get a text and the fine is deducted from your WeChat account - all automatically.
Public TV screens, located on corners, show recent violations with the perps picture and the fine they paid - again, automatic.
Does this sound Orwellian? Well, maybe, but Chinese police don't kill people - or even engage people for minor offenses.
America, you're broke and on the edge of being a third world country.
Yeah, yeah, I know that China is free-market-communist and certainly imperfect - but if you saw China, you'd be impressed and you'd know the ugly truth - America has squandered it's wealth on military macho and forty years of war. China's last, small war was in 1980 (With Vietnam who they beat in 3 weeks and 2 days).
Middle America looks almost bombed-out with closed businesses (even before the pandemic) - but in China, you can’t look anywhere without seeing building cranes - like a forest of trees. A physical illustration of Americas loss of wealth.
I LOVE America - it’s sad to see. We've gotta wake up.
It's difficult, but please try to understand,
my behaviour is something I cannot command.
At first I'll be serene like a sweet daydream,
but then unstable and intensely extreme.
Enter at your own risk, but be aware,
loving me can turn into a nightmare.
I'm like a grenade, don't pull my trigger,
I'll explode your mind with raging rigor.
My infatuation is like poetic idealisation,
but feeling unloved leads to devaluation.
The first hint of believing you're quitting,
will result in my psyche automatically splitting.
When I begin to feel like I'm not good enough,
I'll try to push you away and call your bluff.
You may label my actions as pathetic dumbness,
but this is me feeling empty with numbness,
so I make no apologies for the ghosting silence,
when my demons set restrictions like sly tyrants.
I try to block out regular paranoid suspicions,
so don't think I'm petty when setting conditions,
but with abandonment issues, I struggle to trust.
Please be sensitive as being patient is a must.
Be warned, my moods are regularly inconsistent.
My double standards may make you feel distant.
I need constant reassurance that you are only mine,
because insecurities make my sanity decline.
I don't want you to suffer like lovers who came before.
When I want to leave, don't let me run out of the door.
I just want to be loved with all my flaws accepted,
instead of being rejected, lonely and neglected.
Treat me gently and my self doubt will settle,
love me sincerely and I'll bloom like a precious petal.
Silent One
28 September 2021
I'm so doggone ugly,
I look like a faded roach;
If I were a pile of roadkill,
The buzzards wouldn't approach!
Oh sweet mirror on the wall,
Why stab me in the back?
You tell me that I'm beautiful,
Then fall to the floor and crack!
I went to a local photographer,
Here's something you won't believe,
He took one look at this ugly mug,
And paid me just to leave!
I can't go to the chicken coop,
To gather a single egg;
Those hens won't let me enter,
Unless I grovel and beg!
I never committed a crime,
Though my picture's on the wall;
Ugliness is a criminal act,
It's certainly against the law!
A cop pulled me over,
I asked what I did wrong;
He took one look at this sourpuss,
And said..."Nuthin', please go home!"
When I walk by flower beds,
The petals begin to wilt;
Every time I play pinball,
The game automatically tilts!
I married an ugly woman,
Someone uglier than me;
We bought ourselves an ugly dog,
Now we're as happy as can be!
Why do mechanics need manuals when they’ve fixed it before?
Answer my question or I’ll walk out the door!
Didn’t they attend trade schools or get OJT?
Why need repair manuals? That what gets me.
I just want a mechanic who won’t refer to a book.
Just fix my car already, don’t give it a second look!
Why do pilots run checklists and reference their charts?
Just push the dang button and hope the plane starts!
Didn’t they go to flight school and pass all the tests?
Pilots fly most days, so who needs all the mess?
I want a pilot who knows without referencing a chart.
Just get on with the flying and prove that you’re smart!
What about the doctors who are practicing still?
Why can’t they get it right? And that includes the bill!
They’re always researching new studies in journals
When time’s better spent attending patients’ internals.
I just want a Marcus Welby, Ben Casey or Kildare
Instead of keeping up to date, I just want them to care.
Why do lawyers review case studies and legal decisions?
Such antics in my book leave them open to derision.
All that studying in law school should have been more than enough.
After passing the bar they should already know their stuff.
I just want an attorney who’s a know-it-all ace,
Not a book worm mouthpiece to plead my case.
Finally, the poets, being wordsmiths their art
You won’t see them referencing a checklist or chart
But look, in their hands, just what can that be?
A dictionary? Thesaurus? Are those what I see?
A real poet never needs help reading Shakespeare or Keats
Using Webster and Roget would make all of us cheats!
If a poet is real, the words should just flow
I think that all poets should automatically know
The right words to use, and literary crutches forgo
How dare they try better vocabulary to hone
They should come up with good things to say on their own.
I’m looking for poets who’ll just know what to say
Like Lewis Carroll’s poems in his heyday:
“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogroves, And the mome raths outgrabe.”
Don’t bother looking up his words, for that would be a dumb thing.
Using a dictionary or thesaurus, you might actually learn something!
I don't know how could I wake up automatically in the morning
Without any assistance by an alarm set and or by a personal calling
I automatically wake up again in the morning, Huh, I have a new day,
Something has been waiting for me for a long time, I will do it today
The old things are still stacked in my head, but I have to work with new things
How difficult for me to turn my memory machine a bit towards them?
In fact, I am still dreaming something about but I have to be moving
Without a clear direction, an idea, a solution how bad Today in its beginning
WHY MEN ARE CALLED GROOM AND WOMEN BRIDE
Hullabaloo and cacophony etched in your Union,
Soliloquies to break up with your said-protagonist of a spouse,
You forgot your beautiful euphony, word fusion
When the beginning of two you can't even denounce.
Six months will turn sixty years, hopefully,
Only if you refuse to pull off the plug.
Hope to reminisce your days in the solitary.
Scattered equations be fixed like a computer bug
Malfunctioning & calculating 2 plus 2 as three.
Why is the newly wedded Man called GROOM,
And the woman, full of mystery, called BRIDE?
Her chromosomes which is genetic info room
Is like a deep ocean even as you swim with the tide.
Wedding day was when you 'ere commissioned as GROOM
For the new task of a durational long learning passage.
Nobody calls her WIFE on wedding days but BRIDE,
Your Union overtime will birth it's own adage:
Man "grooms" his BRIDE to become the WIFE.
That's why Men are called "Bridegroom" when he's trending,
Grooming connotes patiently nurturing, teaching her to thrive,
Helping her become and carefully tending.
The altar is for two madly-in-love MATURED mates,
Patiently inclined to groom and to be groomed.
High expectations may automatically results to hate,
To become a WIFE she must be graciously groomed,
It doesn't mean one has the edge.
Before thinking separation, have you groomed her?
Give time for understanding, your universe will merge.
The HAND will need to be patient with the PUZZLE
Else a scattered piece, a show of tumbled King,
Broken Queen will surface, alongside dilapidated Castle.
She's to be your WIFE but still your BRIDE inspite the ring,
Just GROOM the BRIDE, don't painfully hustle
Cos your Union isn't a semantic struggle tussle
If only you follow Divine steps to avoid the hassle.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 7th May, 2020.
I’d like to list my own top ten
But there’s a little twist
This top ten is my Pet Peeves
So let me start the list.
First is backward baseball caps
Which bug me to no end
Then there’s folks who litter
That drives me round the bend.
Tattoos and pregnant smokers
Two more I feel are bad
Late turn signals by some drivers
And arrogant Judge Judy also make me mad.
Make our smallest coin the nickel
Eliminate the penny is what I say
Then the 9/10 on the price of a gallon of gas
Will automatically go away!
Heavy shoppers should stay out of Express lines
Go to regular check-outs instead
And flyers should be made to check luggage
That’s too big to fit overhead.
That’s my top ten list for now
I’m sure I’ll think of more
It’ll give you some idea
Of the things that I abhor!
Martha Brown is my neighbour.
and a sprightly eighty-five.
Martha lives upon her own;
so proud she can still drive.
And it was just recently,
Martha knocked upon my door,
to ask me for a favour,
and with this I can’t ignore.
Martha asked me will I join her
when driving to the city,
for a medical appointment;
to refuse would be a pity.
With Martha on a highway,
she soon opened up to me,
that she cannot remember
when last she drove to the city.
When we reached the city limits,
the world changed dramatically,
with road traffic thickening,
and lights change automatically.
But something else troubled me
because I am fairly sure,
Martha drove down to the city;
that was just a month before.
But Martha kept on talking,
as on and on she sped,
although at an intersection,
I’m certain the light was red.
Perhaps that I am losing it,
tricks are playing with my mind,
and Martha’s explanation,
had me a slight resigned.
Then at the next intersection
and the one that followed that,
I gazed at the traffic lights
while there’s Martha’s constant chat.
I’ll admit I’m more than nervous
and that something must be said
for I was concerned as Martha
did not see the lights were red.
It was the time for Martha
to be made fully aware,
that she had run the red lights,
and that gave her quiet a scare.
“Good Lord!” Martha responded,
but it’s I who need reviving,
when Martha uttered to me;
“I didn’t realize I was driving”.
When did a lie become an alternative truth?
Why are parking spaces so small?
Do subway riders even know deodorant exists?
Why do jaywalkers ignore red lights?
Why do kids never wash their hands before they eat?
Why do people spell doubt and subtle with a "b"?
Why have twenty checkouts and only two cashiers?
Why are there no cops around when you need one?
Why do people peddle religion door-to-door?
And why didn't these annoying things bother me before?
A few more things to add to my list of gripes.
Why wasn't I warned that life could be so screwed up?
Why are there no washrooms handy when you need to piss?
And why do tips get automatically added to the cost of a meal?
Why are interest rates on credit cards so outrageous?
And why won't the deliveryman deliver to my apartment door?
I know I've been ranting a lot, but there's so much more:
like roads that never get plowed,
people who pay for groceries by check,
and cars that park on narrow city streets.
Oh, and what about coffee that's too hot to drink?
These are but a few of the things
that contribute to my anxiety and frustration.
BULLY
Who is the girl with the cricked teeth, she doesn’t deserve to smile
She is the type of person who needs to stay in and marinate for awhile
She needs to do something with that nappy hair looking like Diana Ross
Because damn, if life was a beauty contest, she automatically loss
I don’t know who her family is but she definitely got the ugly gene
She wears the same clothes everyday and she lacks personal hygiene
She has no friends and no one even acts like she exist
So she should be glad I’m giving her recognition and writing this
On the bus we make fun of her, the whole way to her house
She doesn’t even talk back, she is just as quiet as a mouse
We love to see her cry because maybe it will wash the dirt off her face
We always throw a paper bag over her head anyways, just in case
We like to throw food at her in the lunch room to give her some flavor
And we throw her downstairs so she can die but we do it to her as a favor
However, she took the last bit of abuse from us and showed us bullying wasn’t fun
Because she was after us today, when she showed up to school with a loaded gun
I never wanted to be a bully, I just wanted to be popular and that is my confession
Needless to say, I will never bully anybody again, she taught me my lesson
My mind is a very active place.
Like for all people,
the number of its rooms is limitless,
for the mind travels to many places
as well as traveling via novels and movies,
so those rooms are ever-changing.
They are decorated automatically.
You need not lift a finger to decorate them!
One room different from the ever-changing ones
is my attic. Perhaps for unluckier souls
this room could be a basement or a dungeon!
In my attic are mostly memories which,
for me, are beautifully colored.
Nostalgia floods its very broad expanse
and drips into every nook and cranny.
The main room of my mind
is the living room.
This is like the living room of my friends' minds,
the common room where our thinking dictates
what lies inside it and how those thoughts
are perceived by others.
I like to think my living room is unique,
but also I know it's filled with too much clutter!
The room most interesting of all my rooms
would be the room of my imagination.
In this room are thousands upon thousands
of closets, cabinets, and shelves,
and inside each one are different pieces of
my imagination!
Each cabinet is organized by type.
Some are surreal in color or vivid technicolor!
Those pieces are my dreams.
My fantasies are closeted.
The ones made manifest on paper or computer
are sitting out on shelves!
All the ones which can be seen
are those I call my poems or stories.
Most are not dark in color
but are bright or multi-colored.
I decorate the room of my imagination often.
You may come and see my new shelves
at any time!
Do mind the wet paint.
I'm never finished adding to that room!
Feb. 26, 2018 (my only free verse for this year so far!)
Inspired by another contest but too long for that one.
For John Hamilton's Best Free Verse of 2018 Contest
Life is somehow like doing a project,
It cannot automatically succeed
Except some kindness divines to aid,
That needs to move the Holy spirits
We cannot do so for any miracles
So turned to recruit the like-minded,
Self-help we must do, with keys to the heart
Open up spaces for everyone,
Acknowledge being a part of the United,
The blueprint of lives likes a jigsaw picture
We must be united to make life better
They decry their gun birthright
is to defend their home,
protect what they own
A government tank might come rolling
down the road one day
New Roman centurions coming to take
their beloved metal sons away
Give unto Caesar the lobby coins,
and he will let you keep your guns
Ask for the AR-15 exemption too ...
get a death certificate of ownership for you
Have in your treasured collection,
the most coveted item
that can blow dreams away
Possess the wizard of war wand ...
keep it on concealed Oz display
What lies behind the magazine veil
will blow your citizen reticence away
AR-15 lying wonder:
Killing machine putting souls
six-feet under
It’s your American gun birthright
to have death by metal proxy
at your trigger side
Bumstocks and sawed-off barrels,
high-velocity bullets: metal projectile arrows
Second Amendment voice tools,
get pleasure in bringing the pain,
speaking with First Amendment lead liberty
Shoot first and ask questions later ...
The law of trigger-nometry rules:
the barrel with the loudest bang,
has the highest caliber free speech authority
Gun birthright zealous voices
speaking with hot impassioned impunity
Shoot first and ask questions later ...
AR-15 making serial killing noises,
silencing crowds with political immunity,
automatically blowing dreams away
Talk to the trigger hand they say: Shoot first,
and ask questions later on another day
You might find this tid bit
A bit hard to believe
But I swear my cat sees thing
That I ain't never seen
I'm thinking that it's spirits
Floating all around
You can most often tell
With her constant peculiar meows
She'll sit there and she'll stare
At one spot to no end
It seems to me it must be the dead
As sure as I now live
Or when she ups and jumps
Batting at nothing but thin air
I doubt that it's the micro dust
But rather the spirits floating there
I know that all cats automatically come
With a total of nine lives
Which leaves me to often wonder
How many live on the other side
Yes, my cat sees ghosts
But you would never know
Cause she seems to see the strangest things
That no human eye could ever hope
Excerpts from the compilation: “Prayer” 7
Inner Strength, Resilience.
I wish that each of us rediscovers their Inner Strength
And we understand that is a wild,
serene and pure treasure
That is simply forgotten - not lost.
Especially in the moments
when we need to say “no” or “enough!”
And get up, walk and attempt to set ourselves free
From all the internal and external voices
That keep us small
And try to make us believe
That we are irrelevant, inadequate and insignificant!
And also Resilience:
for the inevitable shocks and setbacks
And each time that we doubt, stumble and fall.
And that we allow ourselves to see mistakes not as failures,
But as perfect moments of great learning and understanding.
And let us practice taking time
to tend to and heal our wounds and hurts
Before we automatically turn off,
rush off to the next appointment
And mechanically, mindlessly, heartlessly
do all the things that we are told
That we are supposed to do.
© Sangeet Portals 2020