Best Pipeline Poems
where the pipeline meets the lake
spewing sewage in its wake
several snowdrops grow and help to paint God’s earth
and as acid rains from clouds
upon the litter strewn by crowds
lines of daffodils speak more than words are worth.
next to piles of household waste
tipped by those who fly in haste
there are bluebells growing wild on urban floors
and as plumes of factory smoke
suffocate disperse and choke
there are birds migrating to these hallowed shores.
where graffiti daubs the wall
of society’s wrecking ball
there’s a patch where tulips dance beneath our sky
and as shards of broken glass
lie in pieces on the grass
two young lovers holding hands walk slowly by.
Joe Biden now rules our White House
Together with his 'doctor' spouse.
His blunders, for sure-
We have to endure;
To caring, he does not espouse.
Those mishaps, like names he misspoke-
For sure, were not meant as a joke.
But much worse by far
His failures that scar-
Appeasing the will of the woke'!
Day-one, he shut down the pipeline-
made our oil production decline.
Gas prices- despise!
While heating bills rise!
We now must import and consign!
Appalling- how he shut that door
To exit the long Afghan war!
Left our troops behind-
Their rescue declined
In spite of their sacrifice bore!
Our vast Southern border, exposed-
All previous rules- he opposed.
He let millions in
And, to our chagrin-
Come outlaws and drugs- unopposed!
Bad crimes multiply by the day;
The victims now feel cast away.
With no fines or bail,
Or time spent in jail-
No need that bad guys must obey!
Inflation's gone way off the chart;
We dread the time spent at the mart.
Less food we now choose
For his brainless ruse-
Just printing out money's not smart!
And, last but not least, Hunter's life!
This son and his dad cause us strife.
With Chinese, each deals-
While 'The Big Guy' steals;
Through quid pro quo- they become rife!
Our media hypes left-wing views-
So, therefore, presenting fake news;
When really, they should
Show bad with the good;
Lay out all the facts to peruse!
November 25, 2022
Contest: The Bidens Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
It's remarkable how strong denial can be,
It appears that the wise have it right,
As a race, we prefer to love flattering liars,
(Sticking head in the sand to a "fight.")
So we vote for our prejudice, opt not to think,
Even when facts are right in our faces,
Global warming aside, our death naps on the couch,
(While we wager our lives at the races.)
Fossil fuels are the heart of what matters the most:
Oil, gas, coal are all finite resource.
Human needs on the rise, linked to future that dies,
Expectations and wisdom divorce.
If your head is on straight, you know time's running out,
Solar power's not all that we need!
Fertilizer, clean water, what world's needing now
We respond though like rabbits: continue to breed!
It's the logic of math that spells out coming doom,
Population growth's not "easy" trick,
Listen now (hear world sigh?), don't want children to die,
When you vote, chose the humble, not prick!
Long Tooth
June 25, 2017
Poet's Notes:
What man fails to understand and appreciate is the implication of the exponential function of math. The ENTIRE PROVEN RESERVE that the new Alaskan pipeline will only meet US needs for 2-3 months folks (if that was all that we had) and we may run out of mineable coal in 25-50 years not 500 years. If you care about the future at all, you should check out the DVD called "Arithmetic, Population, And Energy" by Dr. Albert A Bartlett, Department of Physics, at the University of Colorado. Yes, you should be scared of both Pollyanna types and science haters in both political parties. Donald Trump is to me a clear indication of how fragile human civilization is.
It's been a good run
To the back side of sixty,
The short side of time.
First Hollywood kiss
Behind a pink crepe myrtle.
Thanks, Patsy Werner.
High school was okay.
Didn't help me to focus;
So, my mind wandered.
Surfed Bonzai Pipeline,
Big waves break into lava.
What made me do it?
Vietnam jungles.
I wondered why I was there.
America lost.
Smoking pot. Stereo.
Good fun in the seventies.
Psychedelics too.
And three wives later,
I finally found true love.
We're still together.
My destitute heart,
Saved by the sweetest angel.
I love you, Sandy.
Sooners are my team.
Most winning football program
In the Modern Era.
I am retired now.
But I have plenty to do.
Golf, primarily.
I've been writing more.
Perhaps I will write a book.
I have many tales.
I'd chase young girls; but,
Girls with a "grampa" fetish
Are so hard to find.
If I am lucky,
I will just drop dead one day.
With my peace of mind.
Yes, made a good run
To the back side of sixty,
The short side of time.
" Human Body "
There seems to be a heated debate
amongst a meeting of the minds
about the uniquely crafted body
of our own human kind.
Our amazing Human Body
is incredibly totally complete
three engineers want the credit
as they come together and compete.
The mechanical engineer
had some very good points
looking at the flexability
at all of the bodys joints.
Moving all around
up and down, too and fro
its a mechanical engineering feat
as the Human Body grows.
The electrical engineer
spoke of many reflections
its the complicated nervous system
and its electrical connections.
Considering all of the senses
of, sight, touch, smell, hearing, and taste
without each of these senses
the Human Body would be a waste.
The confident civil engineer
had the best intelligent criteria
who would run a toxic waste pipeline
right through a recreational area.
There is no further need to debate
no further meeting of the minds
the uniquely crafted body
was designed by a civil engineer kind...
Penned By MPK
Quote: Life Is Poetry In Motion, Great Poets Reflect Emotion…
Quote: The Best And Most Beautiful Thing In The World Can’t Be Seen Or Touched
It Must Be Felt With Your Heart…
Dreams and Reality
I met her in the Book-Fair, three days the fair lasted
And she was spotted on all days, browsing and buying my books
Eyeing me without talking; I could read her mind in her looks
As the tip of her lip touched my book cover image. The posted
Message on the wall of my heart conveyed her dreams and fixed
Them across my mind. So, I took the first step and blasted her diffidence
With a gentle smile, getting a charming smile with a girlish confidence.
That’s it; with ignited throbs we spent days; she then asked, ”What next?”
“A Long Poem in the pipeline and a pulp fiction in printing,”
She seemed bewildered. And we finished the day without talking more.
The next day, she was more silent, and then asked in haste, “What more?”
“A Mock Epic for my taste and a Romantic fiction to make it trending.”
I talked about books and more books as she talked with her looks; mere looks!
And we parted there, like crooks; realizing- life is more than books and looks!
water
the liquid of life—
pipeline
You marketing types love us.
Blue all over, fear of nothing a man can throw,
Quick to bow down when the boss come by...
not the one paying me....,
but the one who rules my roost.
Day breaks looks nice,
especially because the roads aren't covered and filled with the yuppie douche bag lawyers, bankers and brokers all on phones missing the opening of the days first gift.
you know these soft handed men!
Your commercials applaud our ethic,
our muscles,
our attitudes,
our jacked up 4 X 4
Our dick swinging genuflection to manhood's blue collar ways.
Toughness is forged by the cold weather winds,
Sun baked and burned backs,
Red tipped noses from over drinking the days end the night before
while being educated at H.K.U.
Not Hong Kong University...its Hard-Knock University
We learned in fields where sweat meets will
'cuz you cant fail.
Blood and callused hands complete the job,
the well,
the pipeline,
the boat,
the building,
Grown in fields of corn,
on oil rigs surrounded by the deepest blue oceans,
as blue as the collar around the neck.
tight, knowing there is nowhere else to go
and nowhere you would rather be.
Women feel the attraction, and we see it in your eyes...
Awakening the primal sense in you. The roughnecks and dirt covered crew.
You know your manicured husband just don't have this....or could do that!
You may want a well put together,
prepared and pampered over,
buffed and polished man,
but your desire fixates on men in blue who can do it all,
from fixes of the sink,
to kissing you tender pillow top lip,
Big and small, blue collard boys do it all!
Arizona's part of Ukraine
The home of Senator McCain
He'd gladly start shootin'
At Vladimir Putin
Since this terrain's in his domain
Author's note: Senator McCain and Cindy have a vacation house and natural gas pipeline interests in Crimea, but now they are banned from there.
first,
it was a single entity
an unbrilliant black charcoal sloe female by identity
faded shadowy shades of stygian dark
slipping in and flitting flower to flower making mark
second,
two came dancing like onyx layers
colors changed sable ebony players
deep dark obsidian pitch male
pipeline swallowtails spotty blue indigo sails
the final dance
black butterflies
in the last of summer cries
separate endings
the last goodbyes.
In apartheid-torn South Africa, poet Ingrid Jonker struggled tragically in search of love and a sense of home. Portrayed in the 2011 movie Black Butterflies
I waited on your conscience to come to your rescue
For your veins to come alive with life’s blood flow
I wait for the repair of your heart’s oil pipeline
Broken spilling crude at our relationship’s door
The Bible says “Meekly wait and murmur not”
But I’ve waited beyond wait can’t stand the weight
Isn’t it time you realize the “Stephen” syndrome is over
This moral self-mutilation is not cutting it anymore
I’ve waited with anticipation for you to come true
So we could start over with the slate wiped clean
I held the weight of shame of ridicule and deep pain
But nothing seems to faze you do you even feel
I waited for redemption from loneliness and despair
My heart is saddened you don't even care
I won’t let your sad cold stone crusted heart
Spoil my chance of having a brand new start
The Coming Of The Day
Prayers sent,
Tears spent,
Strength lent,
Pipeline to be circumvent.
Broken Promises and lies,
Uniting of many tribes,
Waiting for a judge of man to surmise,
And Great Spirit to decolonize.
Black Snake of greed,
You thought we were a "vanishing breed",
The reptile met the spirit steed,
Oil is not the Native creed.
Upon treaty lands you slither near,
It is songs and prayers that you will hear,
From prophecies and spiritual seers,
You crawled into the Standing Rock sphere.
Where Sitting Bull's spirit dwells,
Where Crazy Horses' courage compels,
And Chief Gall's stands still and rebels,
Sacred Lakota parallel.
Disturbed graves and uncovered bones,
You really should have left them alone,
Together the eagle and condor has flown,
The dead are not powerless nor are they gone.
We've been waiting on you for centuries now,
Since the birth of the white bison cow,
To you we make our own avow,
The sacred tree lives and we are the boughs.
What Wovoka spoke was all true,
The buffalo's return gave proof,
The Father says so and it is long overdue,
And now you have much to hitherto.
They sent Jamal to detention
for saying "********"
yet he saw a billboard of the "KKK
with the president"
Maria cried when Emily told her
"If you say "f*** again, we won’t be friends"
but Maria heard that "they’re building a wall on CNN"
When Mohamed told Jenny, you have a "big a**"
She practiced her jujitsu and punched him in the face
While eating halal meat for dinner he heard,
"We’re banning people of the Muslim faith"
Danielle sat on the sidelines during the soccer finals
She was red-carded for saying "you’re sh**" to their rivals
but in Time Magazine she read,
"In Mississippi they’re refusing service to homosexuals"
Ahusaka was in his room today
tweeting to his followers about the super bowl
He didn’t go snowboarding
He called John a "mofo"
Ding, a notification on Ahusaka’s phone
from the Chicago Tribune
"The new administration is pushing through,
the pipeline under Standing Rock Sioux"
Jamal, Maria, Mohamed, Danielle and Ahusaka
paid their dues
but who's held accountable for "the silen* cur** wor** of the mighty few"
They call me Mr. Quick Fix.
I’m everywhere, in every school.
Over 400,000 of me in classrooms across the country.
Yet there’s minimal data on my effectiveness.
For this reason, among others, some call me Mr. Quagmire.
Here I am, the “least qualified, lowest paid” providing the “bulk of instruction.”
On top of that, I am rarely supervised, barely trained, and minimally vetted
While at the same time considered the “first, primary, and…only support response” for the student .
My student’s father calls me Mr. Godsend.
Distrusting of the school staff, I am his child’s protector
From any negative judgement bestowed upon the child by peer or adult.
The direct pipeline of communication often goes through me,
Not the head teacher, who sometimes refers to me as Mr. Why Didn’t You Tell Us That Earlier?
Some even call me Mr. Anything. Or Mr. Wing-It.
One day I may work with small groups beyond my assigned student.
Other days I’m creating lesson plans with no oversight.
I try not to question these practices, or lack of policy and procedures with regards to my role.
Everyday is a bit of chaos, and I’m just trying to make it a doable day like everyone else,
Helping wherever I can, however I can.
That’s my job, right? Right?
Smoke ‘em if you got them.
Save the bottles for return.
That hippie needs a haircut.
What the hell’s a Lady Bird?
My Christmas tree had bubble lights,
My watch lit up at night.
Four-bits for my gasoline
And Cassius won the fight.
Music was a wall of sound.
A Stingray running fast,
Footsteps left upon the moon,
War’s ended, "Peace at Last".
Paychecks from the mills and mines,
From Ford and IBM.
Farming amber waves of grain
That’s how it was back then.
From all around on Friday nights
The hometown crowd, the football lights.
The pom-pom girls would dance and cheer,
I saw you there far so near.
And though my odds were slim & none
I had to try to make my run,
And never look back on the day
I had my chance and walked away.
The party went ‘til midnight,
Coors and California Dip.
The Ventures playing “Pipeline”.
You said “Let's do The Twist!”.
We dated first on New Year's Eve,
I looked into your eyes.
We tied the knot in April,
We made love until July.
But the world and I spun faster then,
You tried to be my rock.
Me, I acted like a fool.
You said “Its time we talk!“.
I thought I was your shining knight
And you my Perfect 10.
Why can't we get back to be just
Like we were back then?
Throughout time there’s joy and pain,
We can't expect things not to change.
When it was time to leave our mark,
Time after time I broke your heart.
The Texas sun goes down again.
A long day's work about to end.
Forty miles to drive back home
Flip on the light and drink alone.
Damned if I know why it all changed,
Wish I could tell you when.
I only wish that I could make it
Like it was back then.