bitchy
In the morning now
there is a rage
at waking,
carrying this pain,
from dreams of fleet
footed joy.
I won’t speak until
tea is poured into
my mumbling soul.
Everything is
dusted with a fine
layer of gripes. I polish
with my housecoat sleeve.
It is the kettles fault
this itchy feeling of
discontent which rides
me. Yes, today it is
the kettles fault
for being too slow.
If love is healthy
and health is love,
whether a screaming rabid eagle
or a peaceful mother dove,
then it matters,
whether you are a pitbull
or a kinda bitchy beagle,
When someone nominates for CEO
a person who flat out tells you
I am a pig,
and not only that,
I could fly like an eagle
if not for all you lumpen doves,
Run,
don't walk,
fly, if you can,
in most any other direction.
To do otherwise
is like saying healthy Earth
could be more lovely
if flying pigs
were plutocratic CEOs.
its baboonish phase
"sweeter" than its derrière
batty bitchy boot
catcher of random ideas
crusher of artistic hindrance
creator of new manias
creature of creative deliverance
definitely mischievous
dark and witchy
dramatically mysterious
daring to be bitchy
effective yet unconventional
eccentrically unique
evasive and emotional
ecstatically I seek
to blatantly awaken
something lovely and spiritual
a vibrant inspiration
true and beautiful
can you guess my name?
no one can forget
the nature of my game
for, I am Poet!
ANTE MERIDIAN
I didn’t have my coffee
I didn’t smoke my cigarette
I don’t face him – I am too bitchy –
so many words in the marriage
they come out like glazed ants
irrational “good morning”
I understand my womanhood
in an amazonian way
an I placate my own voice
in the exertion of waking up
he dances a kiss on my cheek
to peel off the numbness
and dulcifies the leap
from dream to reality
My dreams have been worse since I met him
He is an exposed, flayed nerve
He singes me
He is a bloody gashlike wound
I can fall into and claw out of
A tiger, covered in blood
I understand;
And what's more, I despise him
He thinks he is strong for merely surviving
But his roots are weak and tenuous
Like me
Strangling to survive!
Or worse, like his heart
He can be beautiful
But in time it crumbles buildings!
He takes little nourishment
And won't run with the pack
And seems to want to die
But is surprised and unameliorable
When I hunt him!
I will only add that you cannot save him
He does not want to be saved
Only kept, like a pet
Like an indignant, bitchy house cat
And if you keep him, you will lose us all
Except for maybe my best friend!
There is a devil they call Jealousy,
he hides behind many faces you see:
One is driven to envy,
the next gets so haughty;
and the other's made childishly bitchy.
There is a demon tormentedly jealous,
his ways that beguile are insidious.
His wrath knows no bounds,
he’ll destroy those around;
his words aimed to hurt and quite callous.
To one I give warning, still with some grace,
the Jealousy devil who wears poet’s face:
Enough with your thievery
of fine prose and poetry;
your plagiarized poems do not deserve space!
04 September 2015
SKAT A's Jealousy Contest
They spied me in the sky, dropping bombs of love
on Ferguson, and bitchy women's rooms; and rednecks'
shooting range was next, the blooded boxing glove.
They spotted me in Tel-aviv and also in Tehran, collecting
Jewish kisses for the Iranian Imam.
They toasted me in the family courts, breaking hearts
I quickly soothed, and at their breakfast;Klu Klux Klan,
I spread their toast with jam.
They gifted me with patted back in Auschwitz and
Guantanamo, compassion was my hand; while Isis
and Seal Team 6, provided me a marching band.
They lauded me with accolades, the bankers and the poor,
while serial killers and the FBI, shot my name into the sky,
like Gotham on the screen.
And now I rest my head this night, beneath the troubled moon,
for tomorrow I go partying, with venerable, Ban-Ki-moon
I hate you, trully hate you,
My bad breath smells of hate,
Hate for you,
I hate to see you walk,
Hate to see you talk,
Hate to see you joke,
Of things, that hate you back.
Do you even realize how much,
Of a wasted sperm ended up in an ova,
A spoilt ova ending up in a figure such,
A disgrace to human race, we hate such.
Your face reminds me of,
A dead rotten half eaten carcass of,
An animal that whenever I dream of,
Forces me to want to fly off,
This planet to where you I could cutoff.
I hate you, trully hate you,
With that bitchy smile I hate to see,
I hate that my glasses magnify,
A face looking like of me wanting,
To acidify, electrify, then glorify,
To everyone, for them to dignify,
For the good I did, to face you out,
For the good I did, no more hate for you.
I hate that, my hate is not enough,
I hate that after all hate God's tough,
On me not to decide your fate,
Your death, For all that lives hates you.
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