Best Convenience Poems
A grove of magnolias perfumes the air
as they sit absorbed in one another's gaze,
she with her crochet and he with his collectibles
uneasy in their pleasure in the evening of their years.
Lawyers control their affairs like vultures slavering
their prey, waiting to swoop when the timing is right,
for what use is their wealth to them now? No kids,
no convenient callers making spurious claims,
the power of attorney running everything,
in their own best interests, of course.
Summer Haven was the name of their new residence,
with their final resting place conveniently pre-selected.
But they still could make suggestions, could they not?
not really incompetent, simply eccentric and odd;
eating their meals out of red plastic bowls
and taking their medicines eight times a day,
convenient, and all for their own good no doubt,
but day after day of this treatment can deflate the soul.
One blissful moonlit night they'd had enough.
They packaged their drugs into secure containers
and shredded their records so as to break free.
They stole cartons of candy and five jugs of Ensure
and headed straight out the unguarded back door,
jump-started the motor-bike out by the tool shed
and roared off on a quest for their own
sweet convenience!
A grove of magnolias perfumed the air
as they sat absorbed in one another's gaze,
she with her crochet and he with his collectibles
uneasy in their pleasure in the evening of their years.
Lawyers controlled their affairs like vultures slavering
their prey, waiting to swoop when the timing is right,
for what use is their wealth to them now? No kids,
no convenient callers making spurious claims,
the power of attorney running everything,
in their own best interests, of course.
Sunset Grove was the name of their new residence,
with their final resting place conveniently pre-selected.
But they still could make suggestions, could they not?
not really incompetent, simply eccentric and odd;
eating their meals out of red plastic bowls
and taking their medicines eight times a day,
convenient, and all for their own good no doubt,
but day after day of this treatment can deflate the soul.
One blissful moonlit night they'd had enough.
They packaged their drugs into secure containers
and shredded their records so as to break free.
They stole cartons of candy and five jugs of Ensure
and headed straight out the unguarded back door,
jump-started the motor-bike out by the tool shed
and roared off on a quest for their own sweet convenience!
Public Convenience
A war ‘nowhere near me’ is a concept that does not exist
an oxymoron so to speak and weep and cry or believe
propaganda for the convenience of denying responsibility
Wars allegedly ‘afar’ is a notion too far removed from the
distortion that you and I do not benefit from the slaughter
as the wealth of some is built on the shoulders of many
who suffer for global greed oil exploitation geopolitical
domination for booming stock markets and neoliberal evil
Call me touchy feely or a pacifist to discredit my knowledge
but my paradigm is one of hard core sober fact that in my
name and without my direct consent rape pillage and plunder
deface the human condition and legalize collateral damage
What a euphemism to ask me to close my eyes in view of
pulverised people atomised ashes and call them not near
Rapacious avarice or conscientious objection to misleading
terms and diminutive are a choice very close to my heart
20th May 2017
Buy now, don't pay
Until May, when
Bills weigh double
11/28/20
" Cut from here" are the words printed on the chips packet
with image of the scissors but irony is that
one is carry the scissors if thinks of having the stuff
The lack of effort
required to do
the daily tasks
expected of you
Has withered both
your mind and strength
Your life cut short
from greater length
Your struggles are
emotional
To ease, you are
devotional
Your body wastes
in atrophy
Your mind is a
catastrophe
Your time is passed
pushing buttons
On packaged foods
you are a glutton
You exercise
your tongue to speak
while your heart and limbs
are getting weak
Entertainment,
fast and loose,
around your neck
has placed a noose
Put it in
the microwave
Ensure yourself
an early grave
Healing methods
are ignored
as too much work,
while fat is stored
Your sedentary
life goes by
and now you sit
and wonder why
you are so sick
with doctor bills?
Too late you see
convenience kills
© Mike Wise
7/15/14
A grove of magnolias perfumes the air
as they sit absorbed in one another's avocations,
she with her crochet and he with his collectibles
uneasy in their pleasure in the evening of their years.
Lawyers control their affairs like vultures slavering
over their prey, waiting to swoop when the timing is right,
for what use is their wealth to them now?
No kids, yet unwanted cousins with spurious claims,
their power of attorney running everything,
in their own best interests, of course.
Sunset Grove is the name of their new residence,
with their final resting place conveniently pre-selected.
But they still could make suggestions, could they not?
they're not incompetent, simply eccentric and odd;
eating their meals out of red plastic bowls
and taking their medicines eight times a day,
convenient, and all for their own good no doubt,
but day after day of this treatment can deflate the soul.
One blissful moonlit night they'd had enough.
They packaged their drugs into secure containers
and shredded their records so as to break free.
They stole cartons of candy and five jugs of Ensure
and headed straight out the unguarded back door,
jump-started the motor-bike out by the tool shed
and roared off on a quest for their OWN sweet convenience!
Once I tossed a smile when I didn’t think
I felt happy.
She caught it and
wrapped it in a song
and sent it back.
I found out I felt happy
after all.
Nothing is coincidence
and reasons might hide
sometimes for seconds
sometimes for eons.
No one has yet discovered how to measure
the half-life of hiddenness.
Knowing usually isn’t knowing
Usually it’s thinking
or believing
Same difference.
Used to be more bothersome
‘til I learned to
Smile.
I slowly unfurled the paper from the roll before my eyes -
So this would be my last farewell - my one great feat in life.
My thoughts were turned to others as I drew my Levi's up
And wrapped the paper round my neck...then round once more for luck.
With a wondrous calm I wedged the roll 'tween the cistern and the wall.
"It's now or never", I thought aloud, and climbed up on the bowl.
With breath expelled and hope expired I plunged toward the floor
And pondered on the goodbye note I'd scratched into the door:
'Alas poor Fred, he knew not what his life was meant to be...'
But my thoughts were interrupted as I buckled at the knees!
A wave of horror gripped me until I saw the jest
For I suddenly remembered..Sorbent's stretchier than the rest!
So my history-making suicide was literally down the drain;
But being determined as I was, I had to try again.
A different angle this time - I would drown myself instead.
So kneeling down to face the bowl..I gently lower my head.
Salty tears spring to my eyes; my life-force rather stubborn -
For I find in this position that I cannot reach the button!
Resignedly I raise my head, I'd live my life devoutly,
And when God decides it's time to go...He can bloody-well go without me!
Modern convenience
In nearly every room of our convenient lives we have vessels which facilitate our lack of permanence
Our trash cans make it easy to psychologically remove ourselves from that which we don't care for
To discard is bred in to our nature
We are inclined to depart from that which we are averse
We seek to depart our own existence readily and
embrace the temporary realities given to us
Yes each room does remove reality with very little effort indeed
Each untidy detail hidden and unmanageable just goes away and our minds our taken,
numbed, and subjugated to the whims of those who know…they know our masses
yearn for more when we know not why…we pay homage to the 70" alter day in and out
The prophesy of purchasing power dictated and fed through waves of familiar escape
Watch the disconnected relatable protagonist lay waste to self and loved ones before
your delivery dinner gets cold…then
Find their way back with the mirror of every-man that imparts the pseudo internalization
of realizing the struggle of network dispensation from behind a TV dinner…
night after night'
Then the day comes…when realization and identity is replaced by relate-ability
and internalization…some irrational emotional lobotomy that causes the very light of
our core to dim and seem only to brighten in the false light of promised
escape and inclusion…from 8:00 – 9:00 every Thursday on your favorite network…
be sure to tune in…
Trembling heavy eyelids
drifting down,
To the beat of an epic,
a soothing sound.
The night has demanded its stay
in ebony echoes,
casting a thunderous storm
amidst the mystery of midnight.
This again? Yes, yes, it’s true,
the rain will drown even you.
Soft spoken statements
sit silently in my mind,
I’ve dreamt of you in your youth,
from a time long behind.
Long before we’ve met and
long before you knew life to exist.
Long before your brooding stare
turned to a hurried kiss.
My lips stood still,
they did but shiver
and against my will,
my thoughts then quivered.
Your glance was quite brief,
it shook in shock then looked away.
That was it!
I was left, despaired, dismayed.
Another dream proceeded,
like a hallucination of shiny ice,
a beautiful allusion of a poem.
In this ethereal world,
ghosts haunt on crooked advice.
There in the midst of gloom,
a fair beautiful woman
cried crystals through the doom
of lost love and time.
I tried to console her with words,
yet my tongue fumbled
and the sound became a mere chime
of a rolling rumble.
Her eyes were blank,
she did not blink
from the sky she drank
and dissolved, I think.
Night after nebulous night,
when the consciousness is at rest
darkness prevails my sight
and challenges reality to the test.
If I shall never see you again,
perhaps the time shall one day cease,
upon a poet’s mournful lament,
in your stare, I will release.
I shall let it be known,
like the sway of a gypsy’s hip,
the dancer with her preciseness,
the sensual turn of her lip.
She knows she’s entrancing
as her soft body is dancing
to the men eagerly glancing
at the exotic beauty advancing...
beauty is biased.
the fact that i
am only yours
for convenience
has burned itself
behind my eyes
i am only yours
when i make you laugh
or hold you close when
you need it most
i am not yours when i
collapse in on myself
or walk a deadly tightrope
does this mean i was never truly yours?
Especially one courteously wrapped ably
anonymously gifted to
an aspiring gourmet Chef Boyardee
i.e. not surprisingly... revealing mystery
person none other than...
yepper namely me.
Moost anyone can show
off culinary karate chop
suey, whether schooled among
fishy creatures either
from black lagoon,
or privately tutored,
(this haint no canibal)
courtesy mythological Cyclop,
somewhat riotously,
quirkily and precariously,
when blindsided flop
which slapdash loco motion often
misconstrued for latest dance moves
characterizing boogie woogie
(touting Louis Armstrong talents
as token bugle boy), and/or hip hop.
Audible sigh of relief exhaled by
none other than Chaim Yankel,
whose tail feathers ruffled
linkedin to setback, which former
(malfunctioning microwave) did rankle.
No longer must
hungry tummies all told
eat food frozen and/or cold
leftovers formed into Rorschach,
neigh Horseshack habitat mold
more suitable as clay pigeons,
where strong arms
analogous to accordion fold
readied to take aim and fire
young trumpeting Olympian trained
contestants, albeit aghast at
proliferating firearms when polled
wantonly, indiscriminately, and blithely
taking precious innocent lives
worth more than fine spun gold.
Eve vent chilly this monseigneur
and his madam
(Church Lady) conceding faithful
to follow and acquiesce
and countenance flimflam
toward yours truly,
no matter a fake Imam
who offered up feast
Earth friendly biologically/
genetically modified, prepared
artificial intelligent algorithmically
programmed manufactured in Vietnam,
who cooked delectable
Soylent green eggs and ham.
Best not prepare
former entree in microwave
lest they explode instantly
killing home of the brave
necessitating, none other
than one lame rhymester at large
to end poem quickly senseless verse
in order for his hide to save.
Come on in tonight
Look straight in my eyes
Tell me how you feel
At the sight of me
Can you see I am hurting?
I am just not the man you love
And all this time I have been lost
In your love that wasn't there
Your kisses are not the same
How could you play the game?
Could you not tell I was involved?
Loving you is not a matter of choice
All the while my heart is the voice
I feel so alone
Even when I am with you
You are not there for me
You can't be the one to blame
But I got my heart turning lame
My feelings crippled in need for you
How will I turn back the hurt I am going through?
For the first time I saw
All this time you were trying:
You never once begged for me stay
The more you did was tell me to go
I thought I was doing you wrong
Now I know there is no love
When it is never there
I'm going back to my world
Revisiting reality,
Your lies made my dreams come true
Now my dreams are wishes again
You thought wrong if you
Imagined I lied when I said I loved you only,
It is a dirty truth that bites me.
You are the woman
You are like wine
Each day and year you get better
You are my second religion,
I believe in you,
How will I love again?
Poets of convenience
reality to sway
A stain that lasts forever
excuses not parlayed
“Thou Shalt Not Kill” long spoken
ancient law upon the land
Religious, secular, or more’ bound
the truth has one command
A billion screaming babies
by curettes scraped away
As smug self-righteous killers
demand to have their way
The pathway to eternity
lined with voices put to death
“Thou Shalt Not Kill” their epitaph
—damning your last breath
(St. Josephs University: September, 1972)