Best Repossess Poems
How does one measure love in scope or scale?
For if such ledger ever was designed
Then logic would over the heart prevail.
So in this way must love be ever blind.
If love be love it cannot count the cost
Or repossess what it in ransom pays.
Expecting such is love already lost
When worth decides whether or not it stays.
But if I must assign it some amount
Let time together be the cost we share
And by that measure, as for love's account,
Let us not leave a coin of it to spare.
I'll precious count each moment yet in store.
My love, I offer all to you and more.
8.17.18
A Parody for Soupers based on the song, 'Santa Claus is Coming to Town.'
You better not shout
You better not sigh
You better not pout
I'm telling you why...
PS Admin is makin' the rounds
They are bound
to be making a list
and checkin' it twice
They're keepin' tabs on who's naughty and nice
They'll know when you cause trouble
Someone will pimp you out
They'll take action on the double (not)
Asking, "What is this all about?"
You better not bully
Or use a curse word
Cuz in Poetry Soup
You'll be labeled a turd
You better not be a troll
Cuz it's a crime
Harassment takes a toll
Even if it's done in rhyme
PS Admin wants poets to have a goal
To be nice to each other without blocking
If you do you may find a lump of coal
In the toe of your Christmas stocking
You better not fire your gun
Then your comment gets deleted
That's called a 'hit and run'
An offense that shouldn't be repeated
PS Admin always reads what you're typing
Sent from your IP address
So, you better stop all your griping
Or your account they will repossess
You better not be cruel and mean
Or you'll find yourself in a deep abyss
Kicked out for being a drama king or queen
Having PS Admin's butt to kiss
Every story has two sides
Sometimes they believe the wrong one
The one where the snide villain hides
After their dirty work has been done
They frown on those who harp on negativity
Team Poetry Soup finds it rather banal
For which some among us have a proclivity
In other words, to make it clear, Don't be a.n.a.l
You better not write of hate
It's best not to be accused
So if some of you can relate
It's better known as being abused
If guilty, you'll get nuttin' for Christmas
But if you insist on being bad
There'll be no POTD for you on Christmas
If you make PS Administrators mad
You don't have to worry about Santa Claus
Just don't make Team Poetry Soup frown
Or you'll get kicked out for breaking their laws
Cuz they have the power to shut you down
The world keeps spinning on,
but I wish it could go backward instead.
Who have I become, where have I gone?
I don't even know what goes on inside my own head.
I am not this person I have become,
I never was and thought I never would be.
This is someone else,
This is not me.
My priorities have shifted,
I value things that once meant very little.
I search for things to fill the gap,
but only find things that are noncommittal.
Happiness in one night packages,
is what fills my life now.
I'm not sure why,
I'm not sure how.
I want more,
but do I deserve it?
This battle is repeated inside my head,
but I will never truly admit it.
I know I could do more
I know I could be greater.
But in my own head,
I am a master debater.
I'm so afraid of failing,
that while I hide that's exactly what I'm doing.
I have so many hopes and dreams,
but are any of them even worth pursuing?
What if I fall flat on my face?
In front of everyone I know and love?
But then again I could be better than I expect,
go beyond and above.
You never know what the future holds,
only what has happened in the past.
In order to make your future what you want,
you better live in the present while it lasts.
Seize each day,
and do what makes you happy.
For no one can see what lays ahead,
whether it be great or crappy.
I may not know who I have become,
but I do know who I want to be.
I want to be present in my life,
no more being an absentee.
The past is the past,
and the future lays before us.
The old me,
I will repossess.
I like the slow times . . .
When all the work is done,
And evening shadows creep
Across the fields;
When somber trees
Stand still and wait . . .
For darkness to descend.
I like the slow winds . . .
That stir the waters
With their playful hands,
And send their ripples
To bathe the tired feet
Of giant firs, that stand . . .
In watch along the shore.
I like the slow trains . . .
That climb the hills
With plaintive, lonely wails;
And send their echoes
Searching through the night,
For sleepy little towns . . .
That lie along their paths.
I like the slow days . . .
When all the time is mine,
And fantasies and dreams
Come calling on my mind;
And anxious thought
Stand still and wait . . .
To repossess my mind.
I like the slow walks . . .
When evening shadows fall,
When times we spend alone
Are silent hours
Of listening to our hearts
Whispering words of love . . .
That only God can hear.
I like the slow times . . .
When you are by my side.
A great new loan rate
for your New Year plans
it is the very best
each week we gain more fans.
We"ll screw you blooming silly
yes we will milk you dry,
have you paying interest
till the day you die!
Much worse than a student loan
or an equity release
we hound you every week,
you never get no peace.
We"re an experienced provider
with award-winning product range
if you don"t get in touch
we"ll think you very strange.
You can cry "Mis-sold"
when you try to go to court
but we have stitched you up
and your efforts we will thwart.
We even sell you health care
that when you might be ill,
we promise you the earth
but you took to many pills!
There is no credit crunch
you are our money onus
don"t believe the press reports
that we made a ten Mill bonus!
You cause damaging delay
to this countries January sales
if you don"t sign up now
the World economy could fail!
We do nothing but special offers
of that you will discover
we even say no way
to warranty breakdown cover.
We bring it all together
you get ten days for free
then process you so quick
you"re locked in without a key!
So you pick up that phone
and give us quick a call
why would a decent person
even attempt to stall.
You know your Country needs you
there is no stumbling block
my goodness you must hurry
it is going limited stock!
You have made us happy Bankers
what more can be said
oh, we need to repossess your home
your balance just turned Red!
So sorry about that
but you should not have bet
that in this World decline
you could repay our debt.
Well a lesson has been learned
you must stay out the Red
don"t part with hard earned cash
just shove it below your bed!
Too many are so greedy
at first you might not see,
but if you really must lose money
just send it all to Me!
Once upon a time, you were so good to me,
and you were proud, you wanted everyone to see,
and I did shine like a penny that is new,
or a brand new dime, I think I meant the world to you.
Will you still love me when my carburator's busted?
When my radiator springs a leak or two?
Will you let the other fella repossess me,
just because what's under my hood isn't new?
Will you still want me when my oil pan starts drippin?
Or if ah'll need a lot of anti-freeze?
Will you dump me if I get a little rusty?
Oh tell me baby will you still love me?
It's been a while since you took me for a spin,
or touched me like, you did way back when,
it makes me think, that somewhere down the road,
you're not gonna want me much after ah get old...
Will you still love me when my carburator's busted?
when my radiator springs a leak or two?
will you let the other fella repossess me,
just because what's under my hood isn't new?
Will you still want me when my oil pan starts drippin?
Or if ah'll need a lot of anti-freeze?
will you dump me if I get a little rusty?
Oh tell me baby , will you still love me?
We took the bridge of San Luis Rey
And stood on the beach at Manila Bay
We bellied down in the soggy lea
And creeped across the churning sea.
In every clime where men were chained
We stormed the walls until we gained
For every man--freedom unconditionally
We sang the songs of victory.
We then came home to repossess
A measure of our happiness
We met our sweethearts at the pier
And shoved our lives into high gear.
We raised our sons to face the task
To strongly covet the patriot's mask
We taught them how to raze and bomb
And sent them off to Viet Nam.
Now we wonder, but we trust
Their cause, as ours, is just as just
We want our sons to know this part:
War's task is close to freedom's heart.
[from The Lady in the Pink Hat, Candor Press, 1969]
How can I concede on the eve of pain?
When I never saw it coming
And I never felt the rain
Drops my heart beat stops
Down to the soles of my feet
I cannot breathe
And I cannot speak
Trying to find my way
But the dawning of a new pain creeps
They called me “The Wanderer”
So far off the side of love’s hill
That I’d squander even a Hershey’s Kiss
If amidst I could feel…
Numb foot steps to the left…
…I mean …
…on the wrong direction
Stealing an inch closer
and closer to its inception
The perception that I allowed
You to penetrate my heart
Without contraception
Its concepts shunned
To give birth to Heartache
and Heartbreak…
...The twin of my souls, my life long
My heart song…
“Slipping into Darkness”
Am…
I…
The Wanderer?
I can’t face this musical number
Of my tears showering and thunder
Clashes and slashes from the harsh words
That passes your lips…
Those same lips to which I’d submit
To the dance with the woman between my hips
…and thighs
I… am The Wanderer…
Wondering why there are so many people here
With no cause and no desire
No flames but wildfires blazed
Rejection, infection, bleeding to near death seeking resurrection
Cuz my heart’s been removed by C-Section
From the womb, my helpless twins without direction
They ask:
“Who lives at the intersection of Disconnection Lane
And this street called Imperfection?”
I’m guessin my wandering feet have exhausted every transgression
…And possibility
You… called me The Wanderer
I just can’t fathom my loaned existence
While Passion’s grown resistant over yonder
The distance to the South Southwest
This quest to repossess my feminine finesse
Obsessed with purity of hope’s chest
Attest to custody
Of my dear sweet departed
Or just…
…To not be broken hearted.
I digressed…
Uncharted my course
To die within remorse…
I looked, and beheld a pale horse
Divorced my heart
Beat
Stopped
Down to the soles of my feet
I cannot breathe
And I cannot speak
Trying to find my way
But the dawning of a new pain creeps
Thru a drifter torn asunder…
Bereaved be The Wanderer
Does it really matter that i conform to the norms of the day?
What perfect blueprint is there for the journey called life?
Who are you to chastise me for being filled with flaws?
Only one was made perfect.
who deems it otherwise?
Who made you judge and jury over the morally bankrupt?
How dare you raise your nose when your anus is filthy?
Aren't we all on this journey to utopia?
what being dares claim arrival?
That life is fraught with connundrums and challenges is not far fron the turth.
That humans of different races will be judged alike is up for debate.
I'm filled with vices, and so are you
but thou hipocrisy shields your misdeeds.
Listen, fellow weaklings
Take caution as you condescend,
for the descent is inevitable.
What fun is there to life if we dont fall and rise?
What story will be told if we dont lose and repossess?
How would we become fitter if we are not faced with storms?
Who can best define our cause on devil's roof?
Is it survival or procreation?
Is it strifes or oppression?
No one really can tell, only HIM knows
Clerics hold us bondage to selfish doctrines,
and we gullibly oblige.
Like a procession of zombies,
yearning for the release their words present,
unable to put our reasoning to test,
and lose the cloak of vulnerability.
Who exactly are we?
puppets of nature?
or rivals in the ring of life?
Do you wonder why harmony dwell scarce in the elements?
Or why philophobia lives in the heart of men?
I'm speechless, i tremor
at the level of discord we habour
Can humans ever really change?
do we just suppress some deeds at whim?
and display others when we desire.
Will we ever be whole?
The remnants of what we built don't wash away with the seasonal rain;
They sit like heavy clay at the bottom of a dried-up borehole.
Perhaps our calendar together was short, a brief lease on happiness,
A whispered contract written on water, a fleeting relief from the wind.
We used to dance with heavy words until the midnight cold broke,
Believing we could reclaim a connection the city had already priced out.
With every stride across the unpaved roads, our bond tried to take flight,
A stubborn fire we fed with dry wood, burning too bright to last.
Your laughter used to echo off the corrugated roofs, a sharp melody,
A local rhythm that our solitary souls could never quite match.
But like the dust kicked up by a passing vehicle, our time went astray,
Leaving a heavy silence behind, a funeral song for a love we couldn't budget.
Yet I am not wandering blindly through this psychological wreckage.
I bring my heavy chest back to the Kgotla of my mind, finding peace with the Creator.
I recite the heavy verses of the old people, the stories they never put in textbooks,
Sifting through lands that the maps forgot, where love once had a name.
I will return to the edge of the rapids for the echoes of my final verse,
Not as a broken man, but burning softly like a lantern in Kachikau nights.
Whether the community notices my footprint or not,
I will come and go,Leaving behind these blunt whispers of what it means to survive the frost.
In the thick stillness of the Chobe night, when the engines finally stop,
I will deposit my secrets into the sand, knowing love remains an unpayable debt
A quiet, unyielding asset that even the coldest winter cannot repossess.
Please tell me why do I feel like this?
my life is so good, safe, to most it’s bliss
then why do I sit all day, just weep and cry
thinking that things will be better if I die,
there must be some reason why I feel so blue
someone to repair my sorrow with happy glue
I see no future just sad memories of the past
good things in my life disappear, die never last,
I never dream day or night, they turn to nightmares,
knowing I have loved ones, thinking no one cares
these are just thoughts, a figment of my imagination
emotions of a human being, a cry for love and affection,
I know places of beauty, places that I want to visit
yet my mood and thoughts, my ability they prohibit
my need to write, my need to express how I’m feeling
impossible laying on my bed staring at the ceiling,
knowing that some people have atrocities to contend
people fighting for their lives, can’t just comprehend
here I am drenched in self pity, out of control, selfish
I know for sure one day I will recover, life I will relish,
make a significant difference, weep and cry for others,
pray for peace amongst fellow sisters and brothers,
my problems will be insignificant in the distant past
I will dine on forgiveness, I will find a path to follow
never again will I enter the darkness of selfish wallow,
now all I need to do is exercise my unwanted demons
expel distorted thoughts, exchange for good reasons
I will, I want to make my life better, need to repossess
then be able to help others, their problems I’ll address.
Hello Nigerian youth!
How are doing?
I salute your courage
I salute your resolve
To take back your country
Bedeviled by evils of unimaginable proportion
That threaten and becloud your future
You are leaders of today
Making you believe otherwise
Tantamount to fraud
Say no to divide and rule tactics
A booby trap to keep you subjugated
Stand firm and say no to intimidation
Your strength is in your numbers
Your strength lies in your innovative spirit
Your strength lies in
Your youthfulness
Your strength lies in your resilience
Today is your day
Rise and take what belongs to you
Arm yourself with your PVCs
Vote wisely and repossess
What belongs to you
It is now or never!
Thank you Lord
For a new beginning
Thank you Lord
For the grace to overcome
The vagaries of the old year
Show me the way to go Lord
For you are my divine compass
The way the truth and life
Thank you father for the new year
Lead me father every inch of the way
For the roads are strewn with mines
They are strewn with demonic entanglement
They are threatened by the desire to look back
And be turned into a pillar of salt
I move forward with confidence
Assured You are with me always
And no one can be against me
On this journey of righteousness
To repossess what rightly
Belongs to me
Those feeling unsecured,
who be in brokered deal need,
listen to this vary interesting message carefully
I got what you don’t have,
but what you want financed desperately
You most certainly can get it from me,
this promissory promise
gets my profit lending approval
My actuary guarantee ... you can bank on it!
I’m a giver of usury
And I take no pleasure
in taking your vital possessions —
The necessary things you and yours
need to survive
But I most assuredly will repossess them
should you not comply
To the fine print agreement
that was co-signed on the dotted line
I’m a giver of usury
For every dollar you borrow from me,
I will want two returned,
vary quickly
I am bound by the loan shark code of honor,
to bite the hand
which fail to repay me
This is the default judgment
agreed upon by you, with much debt gratitude
Signed in sweat and blood
to receive the money
In the long run,
I made you so short-term happy
In deed, I am a giver of usury
Crashing waves pound the shore dashing wildly up the sand
until exhausted, they reach their limit then,
bubbling, drift back into the sea.
Like lovers that rush towards you with ardent intensity
until they get so close, it scares you.
Slowly, you let them drift away.
Ideas that pour a thousand times from your young mind
until grownups gradually dash your hopes,
you slide to mediocrity.
Paris, Rome, a short romance, marriage "I'll love you forever," they said
until they found another.
Four years it was; you never knew.
Children bought up with love, wonder, and excitement
until inevitably, one by one, they leave.
Drifting further away from you.
"Buy this buy that we'll let you have the money, the payments good, it's all fine"
until the crash, the loss.
They repossess your house, your home.
Pats on the back, "well done for 30 years you are a credit to the firm"
until you got replaced.
You're 52 and out of work.
A fresh new wave pounds the shore dashing wildly up the sand
until it touches the tips of your toes;
you follow it back to the sea.