Best Outlets Poems


Premium Member Food For Thought - With Chris Green

Lyrics start 0.05 - timed to the music

Pack your bags dear, there’s a Croc near
And he’s creeping, through the night
With his eye on - on our old stead dear
And it appears - we’re within his sight

You know when that Croc smiles - shows his teeth dear
Concrete jungles start to spread
Whips the grass from right under their feet dear
Scams now filling, each word he’s said

What no scruples you ask, well he ain’t got’em you should know
Seeks locations both, far and wide
Look he’s sneaking - sneaking down the alley
Is there no - place - left to hide

Another Archway, off the highway down the road
Golden handshakes, don’t go the mile
Men in black suits they make it all happen dear
Sanguine red soon, turns into bile

With our kids dear – it’s the buzz 'we gotta go'
Family meeting place, just come on down
Try these milk shakes - they're just like the real thing
And these burgers, the best in town

Bet you a fiver - oh that bun is barely fresh
Kids now falling sick - while their doctors frown
Green backs talking – they don’t give a nickel
Have our bags packed
‘Cause the Croc is
Look out Sneaky Croc is
 Sneaky Croc’s back
Back in town

EPILOGUE

Oh these outlets they keep spreading far and wide
In a hurry, they just can’t wait
Food so tasty, don’t you wonder ‘bout it all
No time to ponder it’ll make you late

Good old family name – so familiar dear
Look out folks for, deceit and lies
Another archway - around the corner
Now that Croc is stopping by
Look out OLD Croc is back

Footnote:
On our recent visit to Japan I noticed the proliferation of Fast Food outlets. It is such a pity to see a country that was once so fastidious with their traditionally healthy diets and that of their kids, changing their lifestyle and falling prey to corporate fast food giants.  Even the kids are now embracing this way of life. 
It’s sad to see traditional food outlets also losing their livelihood as the trend takes over. 

Acknowledgement:
My deepest appreciation to Chris Green on agreeing to spare some of his wonderful talent and collaborating with me to bring you this arrangement. 

Thank you so much Chris.

Copyright © Maria Williams & Chris Green | 3 June 2017
Categories: outlets, food, health, scary,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Ode To Occupy Wall Street

The middle class here can't be saved
When 0.001% act so depraved
Their wealth without end
These royals* still pretend
Did not come from us—their 
enslaved**


*The Royals: CEOs, Banksters, Revolving Door Regulators, The FED, Congressmen for sale, Lobbyists, Board Members of Big Corporations, Major Shareholders who vote for these Board 
Members, Corrupt Managers, Dishonest Used Car Salesmen, Presidential Candidates with more than two Residences, Elected Presidents (and their lackeys who pretend to regulate but look the other way)

**The Enslaved: Workers, Career Regulators who are trying to protect the public, Honest Hard Working Citizens, Students--some with oppressive loans, Immigrants, Soldiers, Police, Firemen and Firewomen, Parents, Children, Orphans, Disabled, The Sick, Small Business Owners (who don’t hire lobbyists), Volunteers, Health Care Workers, Welfare Recipients, Inventors, Investors, Entrepreneurs, Actors, Artists, Journalists who do in-depth investigation (not like those with FOX News, ABC Radio or many other of the outlets where they mouth the status quo), Non Profit Corporations, Charities, Teachers, Transportation Workers, Waiters and Waitresses, Dishwashers, Servants, Farmers, Managers, Ship Hands, Cooks, Unemployed   

Author' s Note:  Have been at Occupy Wall Street 8 days in the past two months--which is why I haven't been here--plus I have to work.  Miss you all, but it's for a good cause.  I am very briefly seen on Conan's feature: Triumph the Insult Comic Dog at Occupy Wall Street if you are looking for some humor with a little umph.
Categories: outlets, happiness, life, peace,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Recollection

I met a Hippie walking down the street.
She had long hair, big eyes.
Wide-bottomed trousers, orange-red,
Covered in an intricate pattern
Of strange designs, flapped round her feet
And from her shoulders over a flowered blouse
Hung a black satin something
With bright green frills on the edges.
From her neck dangled to her breast an emblem
In a circle – a unity of Love and Peace.
I passed by her and she glanced up.
I smiled...she smiled...and we moved on.
A smile can work wonders.

The couch and chairs were empty
And we sat comfortably on the carpet.
The candle threw an eerie light
Which came to nought in the depths
Of the room’s shadowy corners.
An odour of incense drifted around us
And a distorted candle flame
Was reflected in my cup of coffee.

We spoke of art, painting and poetry
Treading on the romantic, 
Passing through hazes of religion:
A mixture of love, knowledge and mystery,
Probing into the eluding outlets of LSD,
The restful release of meditation,
The yearning of youth, disillusions of life,
The roots of joy and depression,
The understanding of oneself.

Smoke rose in bluish transparency.
The ring on her finger was big and it glimmered;
She opened a poetry book at random
And began reading from Tagore.
I was silent. Her voice was soft.
And when she stopped we said not a word.
There was no need – we both understood.


--------------------------------------------------------

Contest: Any Poem#22
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placing: 4th
Categories: outlets, peace, together, youth,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Poetrysoup- a Lovely Group

poetrysoup must finely flourish
This is my most sincere wish
Her difficulties give me anguish
She helps swim every poet-fish

By giving the site my best write
I must supply minds bright light
The site provides enough delight
I must take her to a great height

For a long time the site never opened
I was worried as to what happened
My agonies due to this deepened
No help at all I could usefully send

A site which helps all noble poets
By giving to their emotions outlets
Getting troubles gives great regrets
As all poets got caught in worry-nets

I felt like a sad fish out of water
When the site I could not enter
Due to defect in my brain-computer
Membership problems I did encounter

The site gave kindly clarification
By intimating me the rectification
Proper application of correction
Ended in membership-completion

I felt like hugging my mother
And being kissed by my father
Kindly embraced by my brother
My mind faced nice weather

A site where poets play
And their skill they display
Their ideas they convey
poetrysoup shows a way

Really her presence is a gift
As she gives to emotions lift
If her happiness suffers theft
In the lurch we poets are left

May God bless dear poetrysoup
As she has a lovely poets' group
Using pen we poets form a troop
This Godly site, none can dupe.

SEARCH MY NAME IN GOOGLE OR YAHOO
Categories: outlets, faith, emotions, giving, me,
Form: Quatrain

Black History

It amazes me
They say all men were created equally 
But that’s denied throughout history
Theirs starts with constitutions revolutions and bravery
They tell us ours is gangs chains and slavery
It’s pretentious 
And I’m offended
You started the race just so you could win it
And they did…well they did
Until we realized that an eagle can’t be judge by its ability to be a pig
False metrics
A ruler being held by media outlets rendering our image helpless
They narrate that our great minds are bipolar, out of order or just selfish 
Encourage us to swallow your dreams 
Beat our women , eat our young and wash it down with the tiniest sips from their revenue stream 
And we say nah
Trick no good
Ms Maya Angelo knew
Sojourner too cause Rosa didn’t move so Mlk can spread the truth
I’m not the smartest man on earth but if I wanna change how history looks
The first thing ima change is what’s explained in our history…books

Long live Babylon America the great its the M night Shyamalan planet of the Apes

 Long live Babylon America the great its the M night Shyamalan planet of the Apes

Here’s the plan it’s no secret raise your hand and give the answer I agree with
Concentration of Indoctrination now we consider him a genius 
Don’t let him look into why Malcolm X wanted to separate 
Keep him chasing his tail in circles as we continue to legislate
Tell the only ones that’s special are the ones that did something first 
Ignore the names of those that change what was broke but now works
You know what’ll really knock ‘em out of competition?!
Tell ‘em their role models are ball players and musicians 
Let’s assassinate all they’re leaders and complain they’re all directionless
Police Kill off they’re strong men n women even though they are weaponless
But keep the freaks in the sheets cuz they women are the sexiest 
Add dope to their communities break down the family structure 
So it’s really sister Vs sister and brother Vs brother
Father out the home is more pressure for the mother
Strong and independent makes her think a pb and j can be jelly without peanut butter

So what makes you think I want a calendar with 28 days
With 28 names
Of 28 slaves 
Lead to 28 graves? I think …..We’d rather have our 40 acres…
Categories: outlets, africa, black african american,
Form: Free verse

Justin Thyme

Staring in the mirror when I'm down with these scissors I found. 
With my wrists out and prescription lids littered around. 
I've scribbled out a bitter letter in wicked accounts and written down twisted sentences in crimson. 
I drown in no bounds it got me tripping out grouchy for outlets.
Now my hound pulls at my trousers.
When I'm face down drowsy with a mouth full of downers.
I'm pale looking clownish.
I ain't clowning around, see my self esteem floundering.
Out for the count as hells demons seen prowling around me proudly twisting and dancing entrancing.
Slipping away fast last vision left glancing enhanced with a mixture of doubt.
Knowing there's no one to laugh with and be found here alone with a sinister frown. 
I've got to get out.
Haunted in this mysterious house that time forgot. 
A place where damp rises and shrouded in all types of moss and lichen, rotting with the slime from condensation.
A sodden formed Forrest where I'm under sedation. 
A clock work decision I watch myself gazing transfixed on my mission across amazing mazes.
As dreams fade into sight I stay silently praying.
Embracing the night watching day light escaping.
Remain in this safe haven I'm taken away safely remaining unshaken, grey and unshaven, eight shades of my aura shadows the ravens.
The creature with talons and the beak of eagle seen clutching a talisman to defeat it's evil.
I see through people. Phycic and tight lipped. 
Leaving hindsight to guide you through life is wisest.
Am I dying or buying my time in this crises like I'm finally deep in abyss. 
Analysing my past thinking did I even exist.
Forever with bliss since I slipped away tearful
Surviving myself I won't ever be fearfully trapped in this labyrinth with Pan and he knows me ghostly he came close cosey and held me closely through apocalypse start  dropping atom bombs not stopping Babylon.
God got him banished like exhiled angels deep into faranheit heat like my minds a scotch bonnet. 
The child of the scorch trials in the maze at night.
Was made strict then was bitten by count
Dracula.
Come the blood sucker parasite cancerous  spanning round my brain like the legs of a tarantula. 
Tendrils gargantuan. 
Attaching the canula straight from the ambulance. 
Inserting the catheter.
Wired like capacitors.
Body kept alive with 240 volt adaptors.
Categories: outlets, anger, best friend, brother,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Writing Under the Stain

in an
          angst-                    saturated
        moment i          find you there in
    my travel bag, injured by the neglect of
   a poorly screwed-on sparkling water bottle cap:
 my beloved poetry notebook of fifteen years. You are
now one-third soaked and stained at the top. I shudder to 
think of throwing you away or burying you in the cemetery of 
old college diaries and love letters. You were my faithful collector of
anxiety and pleasure, cleverness and drought, loneliness and victory;
oftentimes tucked away for months at a time as creative energies were
diverted to other outlets. Like a loyal dog whose master travels away, you 
never gave up on me. How many times the tears stained your inky pages 
long before I even knew that sparkling water was a thing! When friends 
moved away, or betrayed me (how i wished THEY would move away), when loved ones died too young, or old ones lived too long (how they wished THEY could die instead), when my son was slaying dragons and my daughter was breaking up with an inattentive boyfriend; when my wife struggled with her sisters, or when I agonized through physical therapy or cancer surgery, you were patiently there for me. Even as my joints and stitches eventually healed, you continue to be my invaluable companion, both for my history you contain to the left, and for the blank, hope-filled pages to the right. Like me, you are aging, stained, lumpy, scarred, but two-thirds useful as i write under the stain.

///NOTE: the shape above roughly mirrors the unstained portion of my notebook, which I will continue to use in its deformed and lumpy new state!
Also, no poems were harmed in the making of this poem. I write in pencil, so the water didn't render any previous pages unreadable, thankfully!///
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: outlets, poetry, sad,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Windmills of Babel

Build them wider, taller
let us reach for the sky

when we run out of bird's 
we'll clip angels on the fly

90,000 lb. sperm whale
wandering, searching for 
his misplaced tail...

but elite global outlets will 
never fail....only us commoners
stuck in the dark, our vehicles
needing, only one gear~ Park!
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: outlets, bird, change, environment, fish,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Being a School Counselor Is Fun

He is out in the hallways wailing like a wailing wall.
I do not get involved until asked, so I stand quietly.
The teacher comes out and tries to reason with him.
I have never met him. He is a preschooler.
Technically I am licensed to aid with K-12th.
He is outside my jurisdiction.

In eighteen minutes, the principal is called to the room.
She comes to my door with this child.
He comes in and we discuss many things.
He is five, and super bright. His vocabulary is astounding.
He speaks of outlets, inner tubes, carbohydrates.
I am amazed; he is not what I expected.

He stays long enough to draw a picture of a pink snake.
I tell him I fear it and he giggles like a joyful three-year-old.
I ask him not to draw a baboon, telling him it will eat me.
He throws back his head and gives me a donkey-bray-laugh.
We are having a terrific time when they retrieve him.
I am sad to see him go.
Categories: outlets, school,
Form: Narrative

An Alone Bard

I had no one to comfort me
While I was going through anxiety
The sun is setting upon my rage
I am released out of my wretched cage

Freefalling into the abyss
Falling short in helplessness
Hopelessly calling your name, for I feel blind
You burn on like a furnace in my mind…in my mind…

I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
You scorch me like a flame of unbearable uncertainty
You regret, treating me wrong because of insecurity
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
You churn like an ocean against a ship of pirates
Endlessly overcoming my fears and keeping my wits, 
Trying to find some sort of satisfactory outlets
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly

I had no one to comfort me
When I was depressed and lonely
The moon is bright tonight with gladness
Will I ever be happy? Who will mend my distress?

Freefalling into the abyss
Falling short in helplessness
Hopelessly calling your name, for I feel blind
You burn on like a furnace in my mind…in my mind…

I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
You scorch me like a flame of unbearable uncertainty
You regret, treating me wrong because of insecurity
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly
You churn like an ocean against a ship of pirates
Endlessly overcoming my fears and keeping my wits, 
Trying to find some sort of satisfactory outlets
I've been hard on myself honestly
I'm an alone bard on my own sadly

I had no one to comfort me
While I was in bittersweet captivity
Well, God sets me free…
He will see me through
But, an alone bard – I am meant to be…
He will lead me to you
Categories: outlets, anxiety, emotions, endurance,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member My Wife Went Shopping Yesterday

My wife went shopping yesterday
Posted missing what do the police say
Her weight color and eyes
Please tell me he cries
I need to know for the missing's display

Hey dude can you help me a little more
I know the more you tell hurts you sore
Was she slim was she fat
As a matter of fact
For this loss I'm feeling you adore

What kind of car was she in when she went
Did you own or was it a rent
C'mon, don't be a schmuck 
She stole my lovely truck
Charge her for this felony dissent

Hey dude, we apologise for this run of luck
Describe her, for your so out of luck

"Brand new Stealth Black 2015 Ford F150 Raptor
4x4 with eco-boost 5.4L V8 engine special
ordered with manual transmission. Black ARC
bullbar with winch and LED driving lights.
Rock sliders and snorkel. It has custom matching
black canopy over the truck bed.
Hayman Reece towing package. I added a 4"
lift kit with stealth black special alloy wheels and 3.5"
off-road Mickey Thompsons. Custom leather seats
and RM Williams floor mats. DVD with HEMA 
navigation system, 21 channel CB Radio,
six cup holders and four power outlets.
She even scratched the door, as he fills up,,,,

Don't worry buddy, we'll soon find your truck



.
Another request to Limerick another Joke.
A little different from the norm, but who gives a truck ;-)
Categories: outlets, anxiety, car, grief, humor,
Form: Limerick

Cheating Electrician

I cheated when I went to the electrician school.
I don't know what I'm doing, I am truly a fool.
I always screw up every house that I wire.
When the power is turned on, people scream "Fire!"

I connect 110 volt wires to 220 outlets and 220 to 110.
When people see my work, they never hire me again.
I was foolish when I decided to wire my house too.
As it burned, I realized that it was a stupid thing to do.

I've been sued two hundred and fifty times and soon it will be two hundred and fifty-one.
When I rewired a man's house who had no insurance, he shot me in the ass with a gun.
I have something to say and I'm sure that you'll agree.
If you want a house that you can keep, don't hire me.

(This is a fictional poem.)
Categories: outlets, funny, house, people, house,
Form: Rhyme

The Storm

The Storm

 

 

Lily disappeared one hardened season,

            What a virginity stolen from Lagos to continent America

 Whore plantation there, there must be scarcity of flowers in Africa,

            Neighbours mutter in their garden, Daisy gone too with the season.

 

 

Comes raining season, as Children sing “rain” rain” the soil patches,

  They appeared groomed beauty of lust and vain

They must refresh men, thee desire powerful than the orb of three witches

            Beware their veins, woes and diseases, flowing like drain.

 

 

Gone so wild good girls, selling foreign virus in the outlets

            Being brought to Africa, they brought no tablets

And their disease come, grandpa hibernate in the forest

   No herb yet, says the wizard on the crest.

 

 

This season with drops of death here,

            When will your storm be over, here?

 

 

 

Uche Chidozie Okorie
Categories: outlets, africa, america, conflict, corruption,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Looking Glass

Desolate thoughts 
and counting crows
Specs of light 
spread across
Across the bridge so far
The Darkened moonlit sky
Red white and blue
Neon lights
Sparkle for the few
Left hanging out
In Spanish Harlem
That very night
Looking through
The windows of lost 
souls
I cry laugh and rejoice 
Seen what you didn't
See in me 
And what I couldn't see
In  myself
Images of yesterday
Entombed in our hearts
Minds seeking outlets
Through an opening
That wasn't there
Seeing Mirror images
Of myself the fellas 
The girls what a world
What a time
What a life
We jitterbuged
Around the concrete jungle
The streets showing off
Our colors galore
Our names of Lore 
Shown on those white walls
Girls For show
Carmen Linda Brendalee too
The other side 
Chino Tony and jap
Say hey we can't forget 
Bozo the base
The Lords we were
We sang from 
Stoop to stoop
Subway to rooftop
Harmonizing to the sun
Singing into the darkness 
On the stage we call life
Wayback when
Sharing windows
Of yesteryear
Friends of yesterday
Mirror images
Shadows of... 
Oneself
Categories: outlets, dedication, friendship, life,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Robotics To Come

Robotics To Come

In the Star online today, there are a few articles on robotics....
From a robotic language teacher to an IKEA furniture assembler....
And the introduction of robotic workers in the construction sectors...
Besides the all too familiar mechanical arms in car assembly lines the world all over....
There are already mobile robotic waiters in some eating outlets....
Presently as a prop and as a novelty item to draw in paying customers...
The verdict is out there, about the latest technologies and innovation......
These are being introduced to counter problems of  labour shortages and expertise...
Hohoho....
Even a teacher's job is now potentially in jeopardy...
Who needs a cranky school teacher when you can have your pick...
Of a sweet sexy voiced robot that is non judgemental  and of infinite patience...
Hohoho...
Categories: outlets, angst, anxiety, community, creation,
Form: Free verse
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