Best Prepped Poems
flight
mission controls
checked and bound
for another blackhole
engines prepped and fired up
as eyes of wonder begin to shut
cloud-shaped sheep are hopping fences
numbering each as countdown commences
Announcement: Houston, we have a go!
Launch - the coordinates passing Star Nebula row - G-force
floating - flying through infinity outside my window - gloating
Warp speed in time not throughout space
collect all data to save the human race!!!
A concrete plan within this willowy plane
circling freely through the twirling stains
I will miss deep space when I land again.
Entering the atmosphere
where music appears
beep
beep
beep
beep
4/26/2018
concrete contest
I had my tonsils taken out
When I was in first grade.
My younger brother did as well
And we were both afraid.
We didn’t really get it but
We somehow understood
That wearing P.J.’s in the car
Would lead to nothing good.
While driving to the doctor’s
There was time for me to think
And come up with a plan. (Such acts
Are field days for a shrink.)
The oldest child had privileges
So if worse came to worst,
I got my mom to promise that
My brother would go first.
The deal was made, so I relaxed
Until the doc was prepped,
The ether waiting for my bro,
If promises were kept.
But herein comes the clincher –
I was dragged in first and cried,
Not only for the surgery –
My mom had flat-out lied!
Tearing gusts of highland winds dim the sound of pipes
No one knows and no one sees and no one sets it right,
Heavy hearted sadness carries, other souls who went ahead,
Ghosts of kindred spirits living now or living dead,
Running through the gorse and heather wishing for a horse to ride,
Disregarding wind and weather, Grim, the reaper by my side.
Places I would rather see.... Home's still where I yearn t' be,
I'll never have you there with me... 'tis lost...
both love
and pride
Jonji ‘s dance within my mind
and well within the ken o’ men
I just prepped the canvas
Jim starts the day with good intention
Jobs need doing that require his attention.
The garden needs a good sprucing up
His vegetation 'triffids' are running amok.
He mows the lawn, trims the hedges,
Creates those nice, neat lined edges.
Weeds the borders, deadheads the flowers,
Feeds the plants their nutritional powers.
The hard soil is dug, ready and prepped
To sow the seeds for home grown veg.
Must not forget to prune back the tree
A labour of love is what it can be.
Hours of work that seemed never ending
His body and limbs, stretching and bending.
Sun burnt skin, his head now aches
Back is killing him, so takes a break.
Joints and muscles moan and groan
Weeds now gone are finally dethroned.
Jim's bones applaud with clicks and cracks
His badge was the sting when a wasp attacked.
Admiring his garden that he has served
His body felt it carried every ache in the world.
The thing Jim will remember and quickly did learn
To wear factor fifty to avoid the sunburn.
29.08.24
Please spare me, have you no shame?
pathetic poison prepped,
Underneath those displeasingly desperate diapers .
In the corner panel,
there is wisdom’s stoic face
she glimpses two leitmotifs
anticipates in the lover's embrace
her Egyptian demiurge beliefs
draped in internal paralysis
prepped in anxiety of inner toils
of verminous void, an empty analysis
Seeded branches of goldleaf coils
they reach for the distant stars,
certain the sky was made to be entered
uncertain what the dynamic interplay draws
between abandonment and chaos centered
over a noxious malignant blue moon's gnaw
atop the tricked out terrace in Vienna
outside the castle's canopied balconies,
painted moods leap colors that swoon sienna
jilter’s jitters capricious can’t ease
Flora sweeps over the underneath, not even
Mati’s aegean’s blue and aesthetic white
concentric circle or any charms zinced of Zen
can ward off downcast eye scans left and right
the black bird spiraling arabesque
a memento mori of mortality perched
Its red eye, a pin of hidden fire blottesque
Its cows are shadow whispers besmirched
From the borderlands of my breaking mind
From the edges of my reckless whimper
From my storm-torn splitting, undefined
begets perpetual yearning, as simpler
Eye-like rosettes evoke cycles of life tiers
In this, my blue period, I paint everything gold
An untarnished brilliance mirrors
the unchanging of God’s radiant nature told
Its divine purity keeps me from insanity
from the unsettling, unforeseeable bends,
an existential uncertaninty
This tree bares the fruit of life that blends
never knowing where it will take me,
Heaven, Earth, Underworld’s conscience
and a future inherently unpredictable
Indeed, there’s opportunity
salient for growth and resilience
Others think my hair
wild, untamed,
needing a coif
when all about me the wind
rustles
through the fallen leaves…
red on gold,
stamped brown,
ethereal...
substance once there,
gone
like soup
cooked for hours
to fight the chill,
tang of parsnip…
that’s the visible crop,
bushy froth
while beneath soil,
fight
the war
for a strand or lock or two
of my being...
heart untied from children
hands freed
to tap or zizzle a bow
across strings
what a jumble it all is
after the clean
prepped
pampered
soul is emptied
scraped down to metal
my hair
unwound into myself
swelling
as if a clogged pore
and I’m wondering...
is there is any
who know
how I look
undressed.
By the Murray
is far from
By the lake
The Murray
has its own sound
as it meanders
across gravel runs
billabongs
bends galore
tonight will be cold
so the fire is prepped
7 sheets of crumpled
newspaper, splinters of pine
dry eucalyptus leaves
twigs and small branched
neatly piled
the cod are rising
at dusk
gently taking insects
from the surface
By the lake
would be
no sound
at all
Time to pull out the gift wrap,
Bring out the ribbons and crafts.
Red, yellow, green and blue,
Christmas time is here for you.
Santa’s sleigh and reindeer are set,
Gifts and presents are all prepped.
Eggnog cartons surround the store,
Candy canes and glitter light the floor.
This is the best time of the year,
The stocking hanging season is here.
Excited to see all the facial expressions,
Gifts are opened with love and affection.
I hope and pray that no matter where,
Everyone has a blessed holiday out there.
The greatest gift above any and all,
Is the birth of Jesus Christ for us all.
12/20/19
Relative time from departure body --
Thus, from Earth we hail.
Sailing to Wolf at light-speed tardy,
Cryonic-dreams of Dale.
Awakened, rudely, at a mere eleven:
A technical glitch, a fail.
Three years to seven, it's never exact,
The crew all burnt and stale.
A compulsory note confirms the fact,
Twenty-five years until mail.
Nothing can dim the sadness I feel,
Save for my faraway Dale.
Androgynous android without a face
Plays chess and laughs so frail.
Reprogrammed to simulate the grace
Of my beloved, bountiful Dale.
Repairs all done -- frozen sleep begun....
A starship commences to wail.
Entering Wolf's red-dwarf, m-class sun.
Thawed, I recalibrate the ACF sail
For low-level orbit around planet 1061.
The lander is prepped to auto-bail.
Message received at base Alpha Centauri --
Four years to Earth and Dale.
A fuchsia sky and gravity-rich mass.
I scan for colonists, to no avail.
Starlight dining with my android lass,
Upgrade face of porcelain-pale.
I signal, farm, rave, survive and wait ... for
A reply from Earth and Dale.
I deflate and weep at the message reaped:
She was killed by a rusty nail!
On mission eve she planned and weaved,
Then cloned her brain to scale.
Bestowed to a droid, my darling destroyed --
'Twas a masterful, Holy Grail code employed.
We walk together the newly trail --
Zeke T. and android, Dale....
THE PEOPLES SERVANT
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
He was here today promised pie in the sky
But we’ll soon discover its just another lie
They’ll say anything that to them is a plus
But once they are in they make fools of us
They need our vote to get elected
First order of business get re elected
They don’t need our money for the campaign
They get it from those who have something to gain
A freshman representative from any state
May have intentions that to him are great
But when the established seniors get his ear
They’ll guide and instruct and make it clear
That when he needs help or financial aid
He wont qualify til he joins the parade
The parade of voting for unworthy pork
These projects are like eating soup with a fork
The laws they pass affect you and me
But they’re exempt, their perks are free
I question why we continue give foreign aid
To tyrants and despots, makes me afraid
That some of those funds may surely bounce
From the tyrants hands to secret accounts
They pass out flyers at county fairs
After two terms they’ve become millionaires
If things get dull and their attention slips
They plan exotic fact finding trips
Those trips would cost a fortune for you and me
The trips are on us and to them totally free
They come home and host a town meeting
Take a look at who’s in the front row seating
Peoples servant(2)
But the best of all is a fund raising event
Where the affluent givers use money well spent
Backing a candidate is a system well tested
It yields great returns on the money invested
Once they’re established with one term or two
Hard to unseat them the special interest is glue
These are best described as serial politicians
The facts or a lie is part of their renditions
They support their lives at the public’s expense
Taking firm positions on both sides of the fence
They have little to fear, bullet proof by far
If they get caught with their hand in the cookie jar
Their own will reject them from left and right
None of them want to be in the public light
If he is found guilty after numerous trials
You will find his clone fully prepped in the aisles
They don’t get it, bunch of fools
Don’t they see how the media drools
Over each and every tweet
Crafted not to be discreet.
Are they blind to my great skill
Of bending media to my will,
Time and again I pull that trick,
And they fall over like a brick.
My strategy’s sublime there’s no denial
Prepped as a lawyer does for trial,
I make a case and sell it strong,
Daring them to call me wrong.
And once they do they’re in my trap
For all their energy I sap,
Each falling over like ten pins
To call out loud my litany of sins.
Oh dear God isn’t that great
How so easily they bait,
Puffed like Adders full of bluster
Regaling me with countless hours of laughter.
But with their faces ever redder
I’m invariably the header,
For my words to sing out loud,
To my all adoring crowd.
So on I go merrily tweeting
On a veritable shoestring,
The investment now all theirs
Fully answering my prayers.
It's hard to find good collard greens
Where I live in New York.
You'll rarely find them hanging
Off a New York restaurant fork.
But I'm in Carolina now
So everywhere you look,
Some barbecue is being prepped
To very slowly cook.
Tonight I got to sample some
And you know what that means -
Along with my pulled pork there was
A heap of collard greens.
I savored every bite because
Tomorrow I'll be home.
The only collards there will be
Those mentioned in my poem.
As I wake up each morning I look to the sky, I look all around me, I wonder how, I wonder why? Why is the sky so blue, why is the grass so green? With colors so vivid, are things truly as they seem? I mean, did all this just happen, or is it all part of a plan? When I look at all the big powerful beasts of the world, I wonder, why is everything under fragile man?
Then I listen to people who tell me how to live, and it do sound good, then they make wonder, if they know so much, why are they still stuck in the hood? Now on T.V. and radio, I hear them say, do whatever you feel because there's nothing to life anyway. You live, you die, do whatever you can to get your piece of the pie. But that don't make sense because whatever you do has consequence.
So do live the way of men, or is there a thing called sin, cause life has let us know, that you will reap what you sow. Is that Divine sense, or is it coincidence? You see I've heard the big bang, an explosion in space, it made galaxies, planets and ultimately all life, even the human race. But here's another theory, we come from apes. No, I got the scoop, primordial soup, all life came from some kind of goop, which sounds like poop.
And here's one that makes me leery, string theory. I look at all there theory at it's best, but ins't a theory, just a guess? Science looks good on the surface but if you look deeper, you'll see everything has a purpose. Everything is connected one to another and you can plainly see, we really need each other. Then we could stop all the suffering, and we all know that nothing comes from nothing.
Whether it's a seed and the plant, the egg and the chicken or a baby from a man and his wife, Life Comes From Life. If you want to learn, whether to build something, or even to cook, everything comes with an instruction book. We also come with a book, which we need to read and take heed. So you are not here to flaunt your wealth, look down on people, are to have all fun. There is a purpose, a Divine reason.
You see, this life is just to get us prepped to take the next step. Each time I look into the sky, I don't know what you see, I see, Infinity. So I read my book, which tell me how things are going to end. It even tell me how things began. I want In. So live your life right for this is a must and at the end you will see a Glorious and Divine Purpose.
Not your last name, not even your age,
You set the scene, I cleared the stage,
And you did give the act of a lifetime,
Twisting matters of the heart, and of the mind,
Telling me lies, never the truth,
Taking advantage of my youth,
How had I been so naive,
To trust in you, truly believe?
Nothing could have prepped me more,
Than the red flags, I did ignore,
Yet still, trusting you as a friend
I was surprised by the un-mentioned,
Your secret secrets left me conflicted,
I questioned why, while left bewildered,
Like a broken record, stuck re-hashing events,
I kept on replaying every single moment,
But If it's all about perception,
I was fond of your deception,
Captivated many times,
In love with your beautiful mind,
I should have tread lightly on your stage of sorts,
With foundation built on the truths you'd contort,
But given, it was all built up on a lie,
I fell quickly, collasped, and wondered why,
Now I'm left feeling angry, manipulated...alone,
And whenever you call, I'm dodging the phone,
But you keep on calling, from private sometimes,
And I'm falling for your trap, just to hear your voice one last time
Then my fingers start dialing your number,
My heart two seconds from a stroke,
A stranger does answer,
and like I've got lung cancer suddenly I choke
"But what of the times we've had",
Forget them and the games you play!
And dare I say it? Yes I'll say it!
"You're going to learn some day"
Sometimes it's easier to blame myself,
Than to compromise my mental health,
Questioning why I'm missing you,
Although your heart just wasn't true,
But I know I fell in love with your deception,
And twisted love was my perception,
The battle I struggled to let go,
Is one my heart will always know,
But my heart shall beat on,
Even though your presence is gone,
I shall live life and I shall laugh,
And I shall love adventure's path,
But when the night is still, and silence surrounds me,
While reminiscing, it's you that I'll see
Deep in my conscience you shall creep,
I'll lose myself, you'll make me weak
And in those moments I guess...
Just let me live with your deception.