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Best I Second That Poems | Poetry

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T-C-B Taking Care of Business

Girl my business is your pleasure
A proposition to do whatever
Create a merger sealed with our hearts
That is non-negotiable once the pleasure starts
Cause I will kiss you here and there
This transaction of my love will declare
That I’ll fulfill all your wishes
Cause baby when I pleasure you I’m taking care of business
When I’m loving you, when I’m hugging you
And thrilling you with my kisses
When I hold you tight and squeeze you through the night
I’ll be fulfilling all of your wishes
You see your pleasure is my business
It’s a venture to what you’re missing
So baby when you feel that notion
To incorporate with me, I second that emotion
Cause I will love you from head to toe
The things I’m going to do, I can’t disclose
But be assured girl you don’t want to miss this
Cause baby when I’m loving you, I’m taking care of business
When I’m loving you, when I’m hugging you
And thrilling you with my kisses
When I hold you tight and squeeze you through the night
I’m taking care of my business
Copyright2008 by Kenneth J Thompson

Copyright © Kenneth J Thompson | Year Posted 2014

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Hang Man

   This has been a hot minute to say the cold hard truth. I second that! Glasses full of hours turn hands into long time. Darkness saves the day. Light work is easy. Take care; bear with me. Melting ice just is served; liquid metal. Aluminum caulk and spray painted plastic. Stuffing waste tied up one last loose end. Never officially complete as cycle repeats. Special exemption allows righteous passages. Bend over frankly speaking mumbled tones gagged under the table. Choice marrow is gorged in obesity's closet while starvation plagues bona fide skeletons. Goosebumps prickle pale skin. Hair falls from stress; once again stood up. Lies travel at light speed breaking the silenced sound barrier. Recorded by memories; burned by broken bonds that smoke clouds judgment.
Signals become blanketed but the fact remains that only you can prevent forest fires. Frost coats winters world meeting boy without jacket. Wind chills increase greatly in plain sight. Mountains are to the west. Tough times lay ahead. Games play broad way; at east. Stranded by circumstances; squeezed in the middle. Kicked rocks ricochet; skipping water, now down for the count; sand stands still.
Years pass by undetected; decades of despair riddle me this. Googled eyes point crooked fingers; twisting stories. Kitchen drawers begin to open and slam shut. Back and forth movements repeatedly forget why. What was I supposed to do? Lost car keys swallowed by couch cushions. Sitting right beside the answer; left without even saying goodbye. Contests stare down shows quick draw chalked outlines figured to be sticks. Blank spaces filled in by a circle. A straight line is attached. Another incorrect guess forms an upside down uppercase Y. Twenty-six letters to choose from. One word chosen at random; wrong person in the right place at whatever time that may mean. Figure it out or end up an upside down letter connected to a circle. Hang on for as long as possible man. Solve their puzzle for them. Fall out of sight. Mind your judgmental. Remain distracted and become forgotten.?Remember the number you were born with. Twenty-six ways to figure out how to hang like a stick. Play their game. Be careful what letters you choose.
Who knows what they might do to you if you win? Nails on the chalk board ring in silent ears; deafening tones keep vigilant listeners unaware of true potential. Blank spaces that you fill in with letters, if you lose you become a stick figure; hanged man. If you win they might not like that.
Time is passing by hot minutes turned cold hours; playing their game. Wasting precious time; walking in circles while talking about silent treatment; forgetting things.
Memory is jogged by filtered facts. Ignorance dances to local music streaming through policed networks. Everything seems fine and dandy. One day something strange happens. Knowledge halts the nonsense of slamming cupboards. Sun light replaces smoke-clouded-fog with jet streams of righteousness. Rationality presents a new song. The white noise pollution screeches intolerance; ignorant acceptance transforms.?Absolutely Dumbfounded by found dumbness; tears fill mind blowing eyes. Bubbles of snot nose hysteria, cohesively throw both arms straight up into the air. Crooked fingers point in line with googled eyes; leveling out. Twenty-six letters seem to form into one word. One answer is now considered optional as the question is understood. Do you want to play a game with me? Confidently postured in an assertive aspect the answer is; No! Blind Folded…


Copyright © Ir0nic ZiNk | Year Posted 2016

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Both lucky and deadly are the qualities of seven
You can trust me or repress me, it’s astonishing what people can do with stones and sticks
At the age of six I truly believed in heaven
And some semblance of rememberance is possibly why i’m still alive
On a pentagram, those points, those five can represent the devil
And how he’s forthcoming in our penchance for the deadlier side of living
But for luck I’ll take the magic number three and watch for magic tricks
“And I second that motion”, said the man in the boardroom, grinning.
What happened to one love?
It’s looking like we’re heading towards one state
One corporate nation, rule the world and dice it,
It looks more like one hate.
Prioritising, merchandising,
In commodoties I place my priorities.
Fat cats and smack rats,
Decorated in sinful qualities.
What, sin?
Sin is the grease that keeps those cogs moving.
Sin is just the slander in a false gods self help leaflet, literally demonising your base instincts, time to seek treatment.
Give me seven Hail Mary’s,
Give me six white Russians,
Give me a five knuckle shuffle,
Give me four fingers and a thumb,
Give me three minutes to finish,
Give me two’s on a cig when I’m done
That leaves one.
One life, it’s not a joke…
That you can laugh at, anyway

Copyright © Sam Nicholas Harrison | Year Posted 2016

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Mind Bee!

Did you blink when I winked?

"Lincoln, where’s that’s Ham?
All that’s here, is a can of spam?"

Reboote She said, as she stood on by…
Waiting to play, she decided to fly.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sum men in wigs, with paper white hair…
Why can’t I play? Do they just don’t care?
She sat on back and wondered that, as
The day turned, tonight and the bird into bat.

Then gleaming eyes appeared in the bush,
And two Cats came, to give her push.
Why wait to play, they said as a pair…
And then purred gently, as if to dare.

Owl cried out and she heard him there.
I second that, he said with a stare.
Lark too, … I gave you a song…
Your turn now, go sea it along.

And so to them, she gave a glance…
No more waiting, not even a chance.
A shattering light burst through her eyes,
And her wings grew open,
At the start of sunrise…

!! Eleven Elevens cried the Sevens!!
Sealing their echo into the heavens.
!! Look Tu the Sea!! 
Owl paints on Wind…
!! And Listen to Bee!! 
The Cats chimed in…

We’ll be there soon, when it’s Time again.

Copyright © Izzy Gumbo | Year Posted 2009