Best Insinuating Poems
In memory of----
Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my pulse
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air.
Overwhelm by the scene -unbelievable footage
18 seconds long, "I can't breathe."
My judgment "GONE" stressing all night long
I use to fear dark colors, now I fear spinning bright lights
Red, White, and Blue, I spew the NY crew
What's wrong with your blue eyes?
You see him, you want him to die
What a day to trade -- a life for illegal cigarettes
Persecution and judgment day, sweet life - taken away
"I can't breathe", executed in broad daylight!
Bullets left and right
Who's policing the police
What happened to mind our business?
Moneymaker refused to be singled out
A hurting voice tackled by racism
Free to see, pouring his heavy heart,
Oinkers demand the ground, shutting down his testament
8 times too many, "I can't breathe!"
Where did his vitals go?
No one to tap him out, pound the pavement!
What the hell, why are you just standing there???
Stress, anger, madness, the voice of innocence
"I can't breathe." the volume to valium
"Officer, did you not hear the man?"
Are you deaf, have you forgotten how to save a life?
Is it just the NYPD or is it every other badge,
Insinuating crime's a one-color show.
We are all criminals, why the excessive heat?
Shot, tasered, beat down, pepper-sprayed, now on the ground
The mother of all chokeholds, murdered, outnumbered
The echoes remain "I can't breathe!"
- The truth!
Eric Garner robbed of his own natural path and youth
One man down eyed suspiciously
Perplexed minds suffocating him instantly
The mistrusted, the awe, the hate,
So tangible, uniforms using deadly force
One asthmatic in a chokehold
Slamming his head on the floor
Open wounds, worldwide tears
My heart goes to the family and friends left behind
A courageous last breath, for the first and last time
"I can't breathe," now deceased.
You left this world unwilling, waking up a strong community
Strolling in a safer world, where racial discrimination doesn't exist
"I can't breathe," Eric Garner Rest in peace!
By: PD
"La Voz"
La Noche sin agua --- I spill my loving lips
Dancing, laughing, and celebrating life
I am his queen, aka' dulce Nina
A night he must not forget
Lunesta ... Suave ...
He savors every moment;
Then questions my capabilities
Suddenly I feel like a refugee in my own house!
History and bad company, repeating itself
He wants to ruin the beauty of leadership
America on top, Latinos on the bottom
"Legally," he says, he'll welcome me
Law-abiding, I pass the proper speech
Stereotyped every time I share my race
Casting my poor nationality under the Rio Grand,
A wall too tall, in which my people continue to build
After I give him my all
Children, love, support
The best tortillas in the house
He offends a lifetime of memories
I'm a skillful woman, I dance with no music
I love to work, I take the field
Picking cotton, like there's no tomorrow
I will continue to paint rainbows
And enjoy every color in my garden.
Today, I've forgotten what Mexico looks like
However, that does not cut him from
accusing my race of planting too many trees
Calculating, calling Latinos criminals,
Forgetting his sin, he wants to win
Insinuating we're robbing the American Dream
This is where I belong!!!
Go ahead and build more republicans
I'm already on the side I want to be
Born and raised in the USA
~*~
A beautiful ride off into the sunset, and your horse
passes through a blooming cherry orchard bordered by cedars;
your leather saddle was rubbed with high-quality tobacco yesterday.
It's a big herbal cherry sun that is setting, and you can taste it,
with a sprinkling of spices, and the satiny union of the tannins are upon you,
so subtle that you wish for more at first; you must be patient as the velvet embrace deepens, insinuating itself deep within you in a silky smooth process, until a final slow-motion fillip of astringency touches the front of your mouth.
The cork was wet and crumbly almost to the top.
Definitely time to drink this wine; wish I had more.
A great wine to drink in solitary contemplation, or quietly, with friends.
*Robert Mondavi - Rest In Peace, man, you died in 2008 at age 94, and you always believed in making great wine.
Tasting Note written in April, 2015.
Sitting by the window of a moving train..
Feeling alone
She ponders..
As to why it must be..
Pointing fingers..
How can one know another..
He explodes in a massive fury..
Insinuating negativity..
Demands..
Insults..
Behaving as the judge and jury..
Judgmental accusations..
Harsh poisonous words..
Pointing fingers..
She had become an open wound..
Hurting immensely..
She had become a target..
A bullseye caused by his delusions of her character..
She stares deeply out the window..
Train moving rapidly..
Beautiful scenic views of landscapes..
On a warm spring day..
took her breath away..
Splendid visions..
Pointing fingers..
She feels alone
Pain..
Misjudged by another..
A victim of his delusions..
All..
While embracing magnificent scenic views ..
A stunning picture perfect scenery..
She melts into the moment..
She delves into the magnificence..
Captivated..
Becoming..
Being..
Suddenly ..
Only that moment in time existed..
There was nothing else..
Pointing fingers had vanished..
Melted away..
No longer existed..
Now she sits by the window of a moving train..
A warm lovely smile..
Glowing beautifully..
Natural beauty does indeed dominate..
Wordless worries wander wearily working wayward,
Towards thoughts transgressing truth’s textured tide.
As always acknowledging agnosticism’s appeal,
Essence easily evaporates, exeunt Emile.
Very virtuous violent vowels vociferously validate,
Sanctimonious sessions some subtly sacrosanct.
Is it in incrementally immense ingenious imaginations,
Or ontology’s omniscience overcoming oceanic oratory?
Roughly rallying rage’s recessive righteousness,
Quickly quartered queens quietly quiver qualities quoi.
Under unctuous undeniably Umbrian utterances,
An astute and acute awareness as always arose.
Placing plausibly proverbial prevaricating predications,
Many morose morally myopic manly mighty men,
Eulogize everlasting ephemerally entertaining evocations.
Insinuating incredible implications, insomnia initiates,
Notably nullifying notoriously negligible nihilistic necessities.
Lies lay low, linking lofty linguistic lessons like laws,
Of optional opportunities oscillating on occult overtures
Until underlying unctions unify ubiquitous unknowns.
Joyless Joseph’s joyful Joy just jumped, just jumped!
Killing killjoy knuckle kosher korma koranic krap.
And announce another anonymous anodyne appointment?
(Empiricism’s emphatic emission, enter erotic Eloise).
Having Heidegger helps, hope’s homunculi hunting human.
Get gone ginger guesses, go grope Ginger’s grapes!
Immaculately ironic inquisitions instigate immediate impositions.
Once onto opaque ominous orbs, obey Oracles open orders.
Framing funny fractions, flaming far flung frivolous fictions,
Death defies dollar damnations, deliciously done devaluations.
Usually uncle umpire understands useful underlying ululations,
Also affirming apples avuncular altruistic assumptions.
Creeds crave caves, charms calm cause, come conquerors,
Be belligerently bad, betray birth’s beginning, balance budgets.
Entreating entirely empty, emphatically elusive, existential entelechy,
Is, importantly, incommensurably idiotic, inexplicably impractical indeed.
Potatoes
drink beer after beer
slouch on couches
formulating bad breath opinions
second guessing
deriding
insinuating
opinionating
whining
baby crying
except for Trump
and variable other
con artists
most
bankrupt
or poor
yet
they know what's best
do this
and don't do that
you are a fool
can you not spell they say
dyslexic millionaires
don't really care
sending poetry into space
Down he sojourned
On life's journey
Encounters upon encounters
Mistakes he made
Even offences...
To the people he met
"Apologize" ...he was told by some....
This he did
To erase his misdeeds
"Am I forgiven", he wondered
For others could not yield
To the gesture, so human
"Go get some counselling"
They advised...
Insinuating insanity
To such he said
"Apologize as well"
Hark there kind sir, what brings you here?
A message for my lady, from Sir Lyle Gere
He penned these lines, for her gentle ear
Would you have this delivered, pray kind sir
Indeed I will, my word is my honour
Fear not kind sir, for tonight it will see her
What is it butler, who wrote me this letter?
Sir Lyle Gere, my lady, has requested a titter
Pray let me see, you insolent old timer
Your sarcasm ignites, especially at night sir!
Dear Lady Camilla, holder of my heart
My eternal hope is for our life to start
Would you be so kind to join me for a sitter?
High tea perhaps , around say four or a fiver?
Note down these words butler
And pray not a word from your sour lips
Much obliged kind Sir Gere
‘twill be my utmost pleasure
To join your company for a wee sitter
Until the morrow, I will treasure this letter
Will you now excitable lady Camilla
Lady of leisure, not a spoon thou hast washed
Shush, be quiet you insolent obscene butler!
Or what will you do, sweet Lady Camille
I will have you flogged for your foul mouth
And public it will be, just you wait and watch
My sincerest apologies, my dear Lady Camille
Never would your Ladyship do anything so vile
Oh you know me so well you old timer
Subtle am I? Oh surely my Lady!
My sensibilities are fragile, I hope he knows
I can only consume delicate h’ ors de oeuvres
Sweet desserts and cucumber sandwiches
He will be fooled my kind Camille, he will never suspect
Has he ever had the pleasure of seeing your lovely face?
No, our paths have never crossed butler, are you insinuating?
Never my dear Lady, I am a mere butler!
My thoughts matter not, my heart be ripped, I will deliver this chit
Come flood or disaster, your healthy smile is my bread and butter!
Aye your sarcasm is but fraught with the devil’s own tongue
But in my life you have been for so very long
I love your wit, you impudent satirist
You crafty shrew, slyly devious!
like wisps of smoke whispering, flickers hope whistling, to misty hopeless whimpering
physically choked sickened, with too much oh no, sunny gone, downhill, wrong side like mono, life can be so cold, I heard the oboe solo, in the motherland flute plays you, ways of making waves and rays when oceans arent blue, monochrome foam the root here not beer shaking up a flurry of sparkles, tears in snow globes, three cheers I don't know, cause bliss can be addicting fixed on asphyxiating whilst in a mix of medicating, anything to ease what my pain is instigating, kill the messenger cause telephones are useless as they are insinuating
We live amongst electricity.
Everything is just a series of vibrations penetrating through our own awareness.
Yet,
We miss the shocks that awaken us.
Aimlessly searching and waiting for something to hit us with ultimate realization.
We are blind to the obvious.
Shock waves seem too miniscule to dictate the life course travelers remain on.
We never stop to observe.
Panting from the strenuous long distance race still insinuating since birth.
We live amongst electricity
Yet,
Failure to feel guides the blind into greater darkness in accordance to individual importance.
this stunning lithe oldest teenage niece, daughter of
my younger sister, epitomizes a tall drink of water
(similar to the mother at same age)
What with her willowy young woman body
brimming with budding potential for breath-taking beauty
enhanced by her quiet mien
expressing itself thru exemplary artistic and literary flair
if asked to draw a character sketch anime or wax poetic she would demure
modesty restrains her acknowledging creative talents
so I thought to compose an ode in praise
of this quiet-natured adolescent teetering on the brink of adulthood
evolving positive qualities via the strength of said sibling
whose ambitious parents embarked to Spain
late summer found them bound for the Iberian peninsula
this brother suppresses envy at adventurous bold risk-taking
exposing offspring to world wide web of Europe
fostering cultural awareness, represents continuity
for I remember this youngest sibling as gently conniving for courage
to act on her je nais sais qua esprit de corps
as like an inner divining rod and faith in self
enabling exemplary example for motherhood constituting
both this and Marleigh (the second of deux whip smart darlings)
with the world at their fingertips as hands on learning
all the while insinuating courage to take life by the horns!??
Language is a
trumpeting vine,
Blooms in every shape,
size and color
Tendrils of words grow
every which way,
here, there,
hither
& yon,
insinuating themselves,
curling lovingly,
inexorably,
into, around
the vertical and horizontal,
diagonal
pillars and frameworks
of each diverse community
---
Language
is a slow, lazy ocean
whose tides lick
the verbal shores
offering new sand & water
while re-absorbing and changing
the old
It flows out,
ebbs in,
a living, breathing,
constant motion
---
Language is essential,
is vital and ageless –
a kaleidoscope mosaic
always perennial,
always new
Without language,
what would you or I do?
Without language…...................
Dinner by candlelight
Expect dinner by candlelight
The table is set in the garden
The flowers 'red passion of' exhale
a sweet smell in the air ...
Yes it is a little cold.
But I lit a fireplace just for us.
The flames contrast with the dark,
Magic seems to do to please us.
The musicians are the first chords,
Gay rehearse the songs that will touch
Today will be a lovely dinner, showered with kisses.
And embraced'll dance to the sound of
violins ...
Prepared for that special night
A good wine cooled there on the table
Along with cutlery willing to label
In the center two rosebuds highlighted
Another yellow red side by side.
Insinuating my desire and my passion
Already purposely scented flower essences
Then you get even more cute than ever
We talk about vague words unimportant
But our hands and our eyes banded
Could declare a thousand words
Gently yet ventured a dance
I now feel even more its fragrance and its heat
At this moment the taste of wine from my mouth
Mingled with the taste of my lipstick from her soft lips
Gradually refined our clothes before
They were left one by one there on the floor
Our hands were filled with affection and tenderness
Then our love was magically declared
Among the cushions of my couch in my room
At our first dinner by candlelight
OF CEIZAR FOR MY DEAR DUNCAN TE AMO
"You assume too much..."
Assumptions: cunning little devils, always sneaking up and
tripping up the clearest thought or the wisest head;
insinuating themselves into cherished beliefs, firm opinions
and the well worn habits of mind and body.
Assuming: convincing thinking and rationales, straightfaced
delivery of error and misconception to an unsuspecting
psyche; there to lead astray, giving form to dark despairs
or euphoric imaginations in an unreal world.
Habits of thought, their errors compounded by the
ceaseless whirl of the mind: too much thinking, too little
action, too few spoken words, a gaze too much inwards,
our inner world too much with us.
I assume too much: why then, how do I escape the
clutches of assumptions, their subtle presence hidden
from my eyes; where is the Watcher who sees and marks
the insidious self deception, the tangled web of errors?
Fight fire with fire: match devil with Fiend, sharp
witted and with keen insight, to haul up sharp my
tumbling thoughts and let some sense prevail; Oh friendly
Fiend, why I thank you..............I'm assuming that's OK?
Six weeks have flown by
With many beautiful hours together.
This morn we sat under the awnings
Sipping hot frothy cappuccino
Watching the first monsoon showers
Overflowing from the potted flowers
Drenching my thirsty listless garden.
My octogenarian mother smiled
With moist eyes held my hand and
Chokingly whispered, ' I've never been
Pampered so much as in this break.
It's like revisiting my parental home!
My heart is here, free and happy,
But your dad's memories pull me back.
God willing I will return soon and
May my last breath be in your arms'.
She opens her prayer book,
Takes out a huge hundred rupee note
Folded neatly in its pages and tells me
That it is more than sixty years old.
A memory when she and dad had learnt
To live within limited resources.
The frame workers may find it strange
But I will be cradling the moment in a frame
Insinuating timeless love of mother-daughter
July 3, 2016
For Julia Ward
Contest-Cradling The Moment