Best In Cahoots With Poems
After a wonderful late afternoon walk in the park,
my wife and I moseyed over to the Japanese Hibachi Grille for some dinner.
What we got into was some good old fashioned drama down at BeniHana...
You see, I got me a fetish for shiny cookware,
so as the patrons' eyes honed in on the iron chef
dicing up onions, shrimp, and chicken...
mine were busy fantasizing about concealing Ginsu knives
clankin' in the kitchen.
"Brew Silly began his routine with the hot fire volcano bit
atop the flat grille.
In the distraction, my sticky fingers began reactin',
slippin' utensils inside my zipper, for a thrill.
Things started heatin' up as folks were eating up;
Spatulas started flyin'!
Mushrooms were a fryin',
My conscience stopped trying...
tired of getting beaten up!
Now, if I told you I was lookin' at what was cookin'...
I'd be a lyin'.
I mean, I was really tryin',
but the devil had me by the klepto-hands...guiding me.
Riling me up.
He said, "Go for one of them Wok's! Do it now Big Dog!
Get yir rocks off! Knock yir socks off!
Quick man...sly like a fox, Hoss!"
My heart said, "No", but my head said, "OH HELL YES!"
Sadly, I was in cahoots with the devil,
bass mixed with treble,
trouble poundin' in my chest!
So guess what came next?-
I grabbed one of them big brass bitches,
signaled Jessie's ass with a quickness,
and started gunnin for the door!
Of course, my good hearted wife started whinin',
"Honey, I wasn't done, now what are we leavin' for?"
"Listen baby, I'll explain later.
Right now it's time to go!"
As we passed the pretty little hostess,
she banged the gong and said real fast,
"AHH, Tank-You Berry Much F'wor Cummean Fwolks!"
We jetted towards the park, but it was getting dark.
My legs began to fail. The cops were on our tail.
We tried to walk and play it off, but it was no use.
We should have stayed and ate our food,
and drank our brews with "BREWS!"
The pigs threw me to the ground,
then began to squeal and bark.
They tossed us in the County Jail,
twenty thousand bail...
____________FOR TAKIN' A WOK TO THE PARK!!!
~"True story ={WinK+Wink}
I hide in Grandma Thora's room.
A velvet and wood reserve,
forbidden to children.
Grandma's heavy, hunting feet
thunder over hardwood floors toward me.
Curled up tight- like a snake.,
praying my thumping chest doesn't climb
over her huge scolding voice,
and betray my hiding place.
Grandma Thora is in cahoots with God-
She is as scary as His commanding bible.
The book, that I didn't ask for, is my birthday gift.
I'm ashamed of my disappointment
that stepped into me when
I tore off the wrapping paper
and found only God's word.
King James in leather is not what I want.
I carve into the skin-thin title page
with a sharp tipped pen,
“Damn you! Go to Hell!”
God, I'm dead now for sure.
.
There once was a lawyer on the hook
For being in cahoots with the crook
The crook was set free
By making a plea
But the lawyer was hit by the book
.
They come in many different sizes
Different colors, different cuts
All purebred from Poodle planet
No mixing of Martian mutts
Innocently enough we let them into our homes
Now with too many it is to little to late
We've been taken captive without even knowing
By Poodles from Outer Space
Soon, very soon to take over it all
Ruling the world of common man
Getting us to do their bidding at every call
Has all along been their dastardly plan
Leading us to believe that we are the Masters
But what is really behind the bark
And what's up with all the tail wagging
Just waiting it out while playing their cards
And the crazed frenzy in all of the yapping
That they do while roaming in packs
Is just giving away their location
So the Mother Ship knows where they are at
As it continues to circle our planet
In the unassuming shape of a Milk-Bone
The Alien Poodles are in cahoots with Purina
Google it, you'll see I'm not wrong
Years ago they first landed in France
Where quickly they blended in
From there is where they ventured out
Into all the major Continents
Now in every corner of the world
In all of its crooks and crannies
Saying hello to those in the know wherever they go
By their Planet's greeting...the sniffing of fanny
Yes, they are Poodles from Outer Space
So toss that dog a bone
If you ever wonder who is in charge
And who it is that's owned...
I have 3 Poodles that own me...
I swear they're Aliens...
Waves crash on the rocky shore
Beyond the dunes there is moor
This land knew both peace and war
In ironic and insipid clash with calm on ocean floor
Is storm on the land in full fury
But it will blow over without becoming truly angry
It will give golden fields of grain
Much needed rain
Standing like a beacon on a hill
Is a large windmill
Nearby there is stone ring
Build by some ancient king
In the center of the meadow
Casting a shadow
There is birch tree
Who’s subtle leaves project mysterious majesty
The tree is testament to time
And the whole island is defined by time
It stands alone in vast ocean but not as vast as time
It is also forgotten by time
But what makes it sublime
When you watch birch tree you can almost smell time
When you remember it as a small shoot now a tree
And on the mainland how things have changed you see
But here noting is different than before
Windmill still stands upon the hill nearby rocky shore
The coral reef still ornaments ocean floor
Stone ring replaces calendar as it did millenniums before
But there is more
Time here is different than on any other shore
Defined by orb of light
It is longer than in any other light
Time is absolute
Everything in it its business will execute
But number previously absolute
Here will grow for this is light’s attribute
And previously absolute number will nourish like a rain
That falls on the golden grain
It will nourish the neural flame
Whose status timeless became
In time everything gets old
The tree the windmill the grains of gold
But in stone ring flame will not dissipate in time
Because it is in cahoots with very time
My Big Dreams
sleep on the wings of saints.
They become vaporous
and airborne
colliding with
baptismal raindrops
balancing themselves
on a million
patterned snowflakes
to only then slip, slither
and snuggle
into the bosoms
of future white rosebuds.
Burning dreams
glitter in cahoots with Polaris
creating a brouhaha
loud enough to wake the dead.
Their dressing rooms
may be seen in the tunnels
of L. Frank Baum's
ebon cyclones
or possibly meandering
between the fragmented lines
of a Lewis Carroll novel.
Carefree and capricious
I see them
listening to the silence
near twilight;
secretly conversing
with rainbows at dawn.
Those precocious pixies
seeing me laugh aloud
during unexpected sun showers;
as I gleefully observe
a smattering of umbrella-less fools
being gloriously
splashed and plunked by
My Big Dreams.
haibun
her heart's overwhelmed
as her Valentine returns
from Afghanistan
In cahoots with the local mailman, Airman Louis Patrillos hides out-of-sight as the postman returns the special valentine his wife had sent him. Then quickly Lou appears, announcing, "Honey, I'm Home!" just as she bursts into tears.
My opponent will destroy democracy
But my opponent will normalize hypocrisy
My opponent pays hush money to whores
Well, my opponent snoozes in meetings and snores
My opponent’s in cahoots with radical progressives
But my opponent’s tax cuts are regressive
My opponent is in bed with Putin
Well, my opponent for Iran is rootin’
My opponent’s spending will stoke inflation
But my opponent’s plans will increase starvation
Enough! Stop! Cut! Halt!
It’s not all the other guy’s fault
All this negativity makes one thing clear
I’m voting for the first candidate I can cheer
Once upon a time an esoteric rhyme
poked through space-time into the sublime
Conjured by a reclusive alchemist
and a phenomenal fabulist
Then there was the hairy apothecary
in cahoots with the counterrevolutionary
Simultaneously exhorting the masses
To disrupt and unify the classes
All while the medicine man full of adrenaline
Examines a frightened specimen
A shaman's apprentice not ready for the rites
Given to all witch doctor neophytes
Back to the prose invoked by the magus
and the prevaricator of the ages
Such a set of verses was forever hidden
The threat of these curses was ever forbidden
In humans narcissity, indifferent continually partly?
Caring effacing cursing raving
In-continuity..' Maybe? Am I trite?
Light entertainment;T V trials expose's
Speak of sensuality, tease by promiscuity
In a questionable proximity a proxy place
An invisible divide.. Presides rabidity
This is a worn; worm eaten valuless society
That only wants the best for me for you 'so true'
A mark a chip broken mugs, cheer for the
Equality, women fighting like men, tattoss are
A freedom sign? Like the dark aged picts did
Twee do now.' 'meow meow' only the best we celebrate
Till they are unmasked, by the ones so tasked
They are dragged to the courts, where they find
Co-horts; in cahoots with the nobility of sleaze above the judicary
How can they jail these.?
One thing seperates them
Unproven acts, un-found out facts
Without a shadow of doubt.'
Time has the truest shoutout.'
Sky winks at the sandy Florida beach
In cahoots with the colder waves
Sun slipping out of this hemisphere
Gleeful laughter of chasing children
It has been a glorious day,
I stare at the sky, is she a premonition?
She gives nothing away,
Allowing my imagination to surmise…
Will this be the best day ever?
In my lifetime?
Possibly.
The weather is chill and pleasant
Diwali fervor is round the corner
Yet my soul is not in synch
My mind doesn’t budge to tyranny
Will there be a cracker of a time
When firecrackers are banished
No: age cannot wither her;
Nor custom stale; in her infinite glory
Goddess Lakshmi is supreme!
Despots on prowl for exploits
State in cahoots with alien drill
It isn’t the strength of enemy
It is about Hindu gone astray
Having an unholy union
Diwali is victory of good over evil
It is about destroying the wicked
It is against villains spewing venom
It dispels gloom and darkness!
The smoke from burning embers
In the stomach of a billion Hindu
Will soon balloon to a wrath
The impact of which will witness
“Narakasura” perishing soon
Satyabhama’s ire will cause fire.
Charred bodies will lay strewn
Casting ultimate indignity fo
vexatious brigands.
Diwali is the Festival of Lights
It is knowledge to counter ignorance
Diwali is a festival of hope and happiness
It rings in prosperity to all
A very colorful event that
Usher cheer in people’s life!
Any good judge and jury would convict me
Slam the door shut, toss out the key
High crimes and misdemeanors in the first degree
Caught in cahoots with poetry
Armed with pen and paper in hand
Stealing from me all that I have
Until my muse says there's nothing left
Empty's the till inside my pounding head
I'll sing like a stool pigeon in the hot seat
In a police line up I'll point out the poetry
Say that's the one that did this to me
The one with the sly smile and rhyme in his teeth
I'll throw myself on the mercy of the court
Plead insanity as I cackle and cough
To tell the truth if you only knew
That last statement is not too far off
once
with such a loud voice & so much youthful energy
nothing could stop this seemingly
unstoppable
force &
in awe,
people stood on the sidelines
watching it take distance in leaps & bounds
as if up ahead
all there was to be had
would be
further
progress.
it was full of itself
it was more beautiful than a vision of the cosmos
when viewed through the sexiest lens manufactured
it was perfect, prismatic, persistent &
practical in its laying of plans.
everyone & everything was, of course,
supposed to act accordingly
in cahoots with the young & blissful,
error-free & in the business of molding those
around it in order to better itself.
oh so loud were the melodies it sang
so loud were its ideals
so loud were its thoughts (as to blurt out all else)
so frequent were its accomplishments
so little did it care about
anything else.
and then it slammed face first into a wall---
this wall, ever so strong,
was thicker & more sustainable than any idea,
any vision, any thought, any melody that had once been
produced
by the young wonder &
faced with a path of resistance
(in which struggle would present itself at every junction
made possible, offering no life free of stress, etc.),
or one of complete reconstruction
in which to work like a cog in a greater mechanism
(free of any struggle, stress, etc.),
it would have to toss out all its own independent
thoughts, ideals, melodies & visions
so that it would quietly rumble with the rest of
em’---
it gave up everything & remains to this day,
quieted.
This erstwhile avid poet stir "boy"
prone to hyperbole in a "man" newer
(manure) of writing about his foie
gras bulls, (which matter of fact
happen tubby Ruby red)
redirects his gripe, how
he no longer doth enjoy
sharing his rhymes without
(poems), resorts to joy
full tongue in cheek humor to
lament, harumph, decry...
a source of annoy
ants, sans how nearly every
one of my satisfactory
albeit "FAKE" Hiam
Bick Penn- -Tam Meter
most definitely did perturb,
irk, and displease to cloy
administrators regarding gamut of
various and sundry writing groups,
(yes specifically geared to poetry),
(presuming me in cahoots with George Soros)
I suspect did employ
secret double agents groomed by
Mark Zuckerberg, and/
or Sheryl Sandberg deploy
ying ambiguous reference did not tow
arbitrary guidelines to cite nearly each
endeavor of mine as discrepancy
causing equivalent as digital row
points of view not
countenanced from this bro'
penniless, nearly without dough
nuts to dollars, thus to assuage ego,
(which rejections of sorts)
did rankle at first, hence
explanation no mo' crow
wing (except on my homepage),
an abrupt end explains absence
in case any readers did show
interest can still peruse yo
yo wing unstrung thoughts
from this average joe
by enclosing a blank check
addressed to this wise
acre and silently assertive bozo,
who will express how ire doth flow,
yet tactfulness and diplomacy
kept in mind before I go
ranting and raving like some roe
ving madman wading in deep water!