the moon commences its' illusion
it rides the crest fully
survivor of Roche's Limit
survivor of human prediction
filling the night with shadow
my early morning walks
the light in the distance
calls thru canopied jungle path
the setting moon
stepping on the soft white beach
where a silver highway plays
in the rippling water, i am
the human past who long ago
beheld such a sight
without the shaman's cheap trick
nor the cold touch of science
have accepted the moon just is
beautiful to behold
we let each other be
we are one and the same
dancing thru the universe
and when this is no more
we will be lip to lip
i do not know what God is
and have no such need
yet whatever it is
it is magnificent
heaven lives to die
and in that death
life finds itself again
my wishes, mere mortal longing
that so might i
even Rimbaud capitulated
the reprobates fear of reprobation
and i have but one question
before the empyreal throne
is there in heaven, a moon
Norma's roof Santa Cruz 95
Platitudinous ponderosity
All these nouns sound so silly
A bawdy outward display from ostentation
A twist or fold from overt placation
An act, an instance or state of expansion
Increase in size from flatulent action
Assuming what is not natural or real
A false display of affectation or zeal
Pretension and haughtiness
It’s distastefully adorned with gaudiness
Promulgating esoteric cogitations
Articulating psychological observations
Ingesting superficial sentimentalities
Beware of platitudinous ponderosities
Resolution:
(And to all those who attempt to fleece
I have made a call to The Dream Police
And if you must know, his name is Rick
And he’s in band called Cheap Trick)
Reading a poem about a horse
with a stain
on the author’s page. Patron
ate something saucy,
as he read of a war statue,
forking or spooning
probably pasta or slurping
poetry, precariously, I ponder,
as I wait for the oven timer
to deliver dinner. Deviled
ham quiche - the aesthetic
embodiment of
eggs & cream, cheddar,
onions & cayenne
firmly held in its shell.
I’ll eat in the early afternoon
and get a lift
to see Cheap Trick &
Rod Stewart. Not the cheap
seats, but the special ones
saved for the limo driver’s guests;
he will be chatting it up
behind the stage or
just standing by.
I can’t get past a couple
pages, having stopped
at the blot. A library lie
that these hard-covered words
are all mine, well his;
a-muse-d at a blank page,
how I’ve filled its plate,
and how
I will separate
my pie from my eye.
just another cheap trick
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Now, you’ve began to vex
Directing it to Rex:
You and Lawless Alex,
While you’d craved safe latex
For the marathon sex
You’d planned its huge success
At Hotel De Recess...
Last week, same marathon
At five-star Sheraton,
Beside you: Martini,
To take less: Mutiny;
Not you Sabatini:
Your drinks for scrutiny...
You can’t say you got less,
Though your mood now a mess:
My guess: your big cash less,
Stark fears of future stress
And handshake with distress
Following sure duress...
For next month staff pay press
In borrowed robes to dress...
Choose the not cheap hotel
But there don’t stories tell;
In one spend a full week
And you’ve played self a trick!
the moon commences its' illusion
it rides the crest fully
survivor of Roche's Limit
survivor of human prediction
filling the night with shadow
my early morning walks
the light in the distance
calls thru canopied jungle path
the setting moon
stepping on the soft white beach
where a silver highway plays
in the rippling water, i am
the human past who long ago
beheld such a sight
without the shaman's cheap trick
nor the cold touch of science
have accepted the moon just is
beautiful to behold
we let each other be
we are one and the same
dancing thru the universe
and when this is no more
we will be lip to lip
i do not know what God is
and have no such need
yet whatever it is
it is magnificent
the heavens live to die
and in that death
life finds itself again
my wishes, mere mortal longing
that so might i
even Rimbaud capitulated
the reprobates' fear of reprobation
and i have but one question
before the empyreal throne
is there in heaven, a moon
Norma's roof Santa Cruz 95
So, we lie here again, under the same old moon. You are a constant my friend.
So, we examine my fears, my tears and my thoughts. The reasons I fail, the silence, the pain, the living it costs.
So, I know what you think. You rattle my cage each time I try sleep.
So, your power over me? I’ve studied you too though your conceit would never suspect such treachery from the mild mannered me?
So, what do you think now? The air is colder up here, but the wind seems cleaner somehow.
So, you never thought I’d getaway? What’s wrong, come closer, oh are you just too used to getting your way?
So, that was quick. That’s some fall I took. But, let me tell you that was no cheap trick!
So, now it’s my turn. To prey on your fears, to be the fire in which you’ll burn.
Invisible to the naked eye
traumatization (courtesy
chastising and reproaching -
by fellow classmates
and later in life
birth parents and inlaws
dealt hefty figurative jab)
tremendously impacted yours truly
analogous to him moving bajillion miles away
compounded by his withdrawn demeanor
diagnosed when he reached middle adulthood
as schizoid personality disorder,
thus exhibiting obvious developmental delay
bullied courtesy nasty brutes,
who scapegoated and rejoiced
with hip hip hurray,
meanwhile I experienced
terrible psychological melee
escaping to safe confines of bedroom,
where I wanted to stay
for mine remaining years of life.
Retrospective review
now approaching my doddering old age
constituted more'n one cruel (cheap) trick
played on super tramping urchin,
who traipes across virtual global stage
ensnared within whorled webbed wide
spending his hard earned itty bitty wage
spinning one strand after another.
Circa April 17th, 2120, or 1820 military time,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)
stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)
Born twenty years into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely dirty deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
Homo sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.
love shatters the brain-
war heals the forgotten enemy-
then it starts all over again
young hearts in a new embrace-
made to destroy the original ally-
the war is never over....
so does anybody really win?
and if one were to win is it a total triumph or is it a proportionate debate?
the questions are not really questions at all
there is no such thing
and if love is a battlefield are you going to stay or are you pushing me away?
and if it's just going to be some Cheap Trick, do I want you to want me?
or has independence devolved?
the questions are not really questions at all
maybe Pat Benatar is right and maybe I'd love you to love me.
A quick and easy (makeshift, albeit very temporary)
Cheap Trick would suffice in the interim
(which might entail many generations)
to rock a Super Tramp off The Farm.
Lo and behold a panacea arrived
in form of Jethro Tull. Beastie Boys
(more or less marauding hooligan gangs
comprised of Arctic Monkeys)
possessed an uncanny verve zeroing
in on the challenge to enable Crowd
source sing. They designed, hand
crafted, and linkedin all known know
ledge about mathematics and physics. One
contrivance edged out other equally
farcical gizmo. Via some lack of clarification
Badfinger referred both to the longer
of two needles pointers plus included
the entire mechanism. Individuals
would no longer find themselves
in Dire Straits getting someplace
with markedly greater accuracy.
Sooner or later a confluence of
beginners dumb luck witnessed
a Motley Crue, whereat brainstorm
(of course in tandem with consciousness
expanding material) yielded a great
burst of inventiveness within The
Human League, though after end
less modifications credit for
the handy dandy blues clues
pocket watch allotted
to a plethora of anonymous minds.
Noble Macbeth! Perverted by a scheming wife, Oh sorry fate!
So write the critics ,mainly men, but you, Macbeth, and I know better.
She was the fourth witch who brought home the message of the spectral three.
She was the helpmeet of your choosing who spoke out what you dared but think.
Yet noble you were, like Lucifer, lord of the false dawning light,
And proud you were as he who scorned Creation for being not his.
While they who love continue creation, grow fruitful as the vine,
They who hate are barren, must hate the seeds of life and wish their death.
So with you, the vanquished of Banquo’s seed, whose death was life.
You have one weapon yet, to mock what you cannot beget,
To declare all vain, an illusion, a cheap trick, an idiot’s tale
Though you named “King” do wear the gilt-rimmed crown, I hear your end’s approach.
I hear the rustling of leaves, and though you hang the herald of truth
On the gnarled trunk of a dying tree, green leaves and fresh wood advance.
To the hill they come to close you up and cross your vain ambition.
Where died a seed a plant shall grow whose leaves shall heal the nations
It seems highly unlikely that Snyder had time to do reshoots after the fan backlash against spoiler-laden trailers. And yet, after virtually giving away the ending of the movie (that Batman and Superman eventually make up and fight Doomsday with Wonder Woman), the film-maker clearly needed a big final plot twist to ensure fans don’t leave the cinema feeling cheated.
That the film pretends to kill off Superman, when we all know Henry Cavill has been cast in both Justice League movies, feels like a really cheap trick. Showing General Zod’s dead body in trailers, by the way, also made it pretty easy to predict that the genetically enhanced monstrosity Doomsday would be based on the dead Kryptonian. OK, the creature also has some DNA taken from a few drops of Lex Luthor’s blood, but really, who cares?
http://copernicusmarketing.com/copernican-news/service/batvsupanfree-batman-v-superman-dawn-justice-online-free-putlocker/
I shot an arrow into the sky
It fell to earth, I knew not why
The year was sixteen-forty-three
Before Isaac's discovery
Yet had that arrow fallen where
The infant slept, yet unaware
That arrows, just like apples, fall
The 'why' might have remained unsolved
My point fell safe fortunately
So Isaac gave us gravity
Now you will have to wonder why
This rhyming archer has not died
Perhaps the title does mislead
A cheap trick to increase the reads
At least it rhymes with Henry's 'song'
(But, unlike me)
Both he and Isaac are long gone
I want you to want me
.....you only want me when you get to decide
I need you to need me
.....you are independent and don't need anyone by your side
I love you to love me
.....you love me one day and not the next
I'm begging you to beg me
.....the concept of begging leaves you perplexed
**************************
You now want me
..... I found someone new who wants to be with me all the time
You now need me
.....my needs are now fully met, I'm now blissfully sublime
You now love me
.....I found someone that loves me truly every day
You now beg me
.....a little too late is all I have to sadly say
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