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Le champion sera bientôt là.
Le champion arrive.
Le champion est là !!!
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33 1/3 (chance) 331/3
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Advantage Champion!!
---(Lutte) ------(& catch scheme)------------------
33 1/3 verse 33 1/3
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advantage challenger
----------------------------
it goes
one!....
two!.....
three !......
--------------------------------
I can recall, going to work,
from the moment hired,
was more than a chore
until the day when I retired.
Now, I don't care a bag of beans,
it only serves to remind,
as, making the morning coffee,
has become the daily grind.
DINNER’S A CHORE
Dinner, my turn, nothing in the fridge
Off to market, be gone a smidge
Car won’t start, battery’s dead
Jump it, full steam ahead
Old gossips in the aisle, won’t move aside
‘Scuse me’ I croon, but they get snide
Right back I get crass
Suggest they kiss my ass
The sun is high in the summer sky
And no clouds to be seen
The grass is high neath the summer sky
And growing tall and green
The mower starts with growling roar
And cuts through swaths of fescue
This mowing proves a sweaty chore
And soon I beg for rescue
My lawn’s expanse appears to grow
The longer that I labor
Seems to expand as I cut each row
The mower becomes my sabre
And I a true knight dueling a foe
Who laughs at my every advance
He stands unyielding before each blow
And about the green our martial dance
With never a sign of surrender
The fight goes on between us two
Which shall prove to be the pretender
Victory comes with the aim that’s true
And at last my foe lies low
Beneath the heel of the victor
Yet even now it grows
Who shall win next Saturday?
Sadly there is no predictor
One, two,
what to do?
Three, four,
mop the floor.
Five, six,
play no tricks
Seven, eight,
make it great
Nine, ten,
now and then,
Eleven, twelve,
help her shelve
Thirteen, fourteen,
have you seen
Fifteen, sixteen,
see what I mean
Seventeen, eighteen,
make it clean
Nineteen, twenty,
Full or empty.
I live in a "Mean Peoplez Zone"
soou
leave me alone: I'll introduce
to you to my dad Miezzer.
So stringy is he
and I'll let you see: he's
so
cheap he waits for clothes to go
on sale at goodwill. he told a story
of aman who used a elk, deer and
moose to stem cell meat for cheep.
They only asked me was it gamey
he said. " Nah: Nah, the fella spoke
real quality meat!
Now course you gotta put alotta
garlic onions
and horseradish and stuff
on it not to taste the
woods and grasseyness
other than that it's real quality meats,
gamey no, no i
Wouldn't play around with
something a foolish as that "
niw myself I like the straps from the leather
it's a savings bonanza.
Son of the Scarecrow
Ah- Uh!
Wha: wha!
She creid outloud.
A hidious sound for a Mezzo-soprano to make.
I covered my ears as she
creid at the dissapointment
of not being the leading Malo.
I told her the role was for a malo.
She wrote me a letter asking
me to rewrite the lead.
Bah! I spoke to her
to re allow her to be coherent.
She called me days later and asked for a co-leading role.
I told her the Solo's were for
Malo' she : said' curse Malo: whom ever he is
or whomever he pretends to be!'
" you wish him hired, might you eat sausages and fart
while slapping his back saying : ATTABOIS!"
Me: Me I am the perfect one!
When I told her no;
she made this hidious sound with her voice.
I recorded her bellowing and used a flute to make sound of it.
I then discovered that a moody bassey woodwind sound decribed her best.
The Woman; (censored) Me! Me! I'm the best; Ah-oh: ah-oh!
• Had a bite of a sweet pear
• Once or twice opened the door
• Played a game of solitaire
• Wiped the floor
• Logged to Facebook in and out
• Opened TV, checked the score
• Stole a sip of the Milk Stout
• Coughed, wiped the floor
• Did I call mom once or twice
• Had to wash, such a chore
• Cooked chicken and some rice
• Spilled soup, wiped the floor
• Read a chapter of T.H.U.G,
• Black Lives Matter, think I'm sure
• Felt cold, made some tea
• Spilled a drop, wiped the floor
• Wrote a poem, bulleted it
• About the chores, what a bore
• Not again, couldn't believe it;
• Spilled some brain, wiped the floor
Cooking is not a simple chore
In a closed up world of a woman
From purchasing, preparation,cooking
To cleaning up
A one-man-job
But ask for food varieties
Boiling,baking,steaming,roasting
Frying,pickling,seasoning,decorating
And a nutritional balancing
All are not that simple
To please
Not only the tongue
Choosy is the food
Choosy is the work performance
Choosy is the input
Choosy is the output
The so called an outstanding task
Of a simple woman
Waiting to be admired
If not by a man's heart
At least by the taste buds
And the eyes too
Maybe the miser
As there are no sale's tax
And consumer's tax too
He wanted to rest. She wanted to pester.
His eyes closed. She yelled “Lester!”
The garage door needs fixing, she began to fester.
He was getting tired of his wife, Old Ester.
Can I please have a tiny bit of peace?
She asked if he had yet signed the lease.
He was exhausted from an eight-hour day.
She wanted him to work; he wanted to play.
He grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV.
She began to bug him rather incessantly.
She wanted him to mow the lawn or clean his car.
She was no longer his girlfriend, a shining star.
She had become a chore, a drudge, a hounding hag.
He wanted to get away, in a car that could drag.
He left the house, pretending to go get a cigarette.
That was twenty-six years ago, and he is not back yet.
What nights speak thee mine
That the sun warms the
atmosphere of our
togetherness
That your beauty seduces me
and your warm cultured manner
invites my battered soul
What words of concernment
speaks the woman
The Red Tornado has been in
control
Damnest thee that nature hast
consumed what was
What is to be is
Of these consumed men
that that nature hast take Rd
control.
Good times and bad
this ground now cursed
from doom
Nights are tired from
what had labored men
there works to be consumed!
I woke up at 6
But it really was 5;
Now it’s 5
But it really is 4.
Every time that we change
All the clocks, I know I’ve
Been confused
By this twice-a-year chore.
It was dark when I woke;
Now it’s still very light
And might be
When I’m ready for bed.
Yet I follow the rules
Though I know that I might
Never get this
All straight in my head.
Gershon was chastising Seth
For being unfaithful to Beth
As high as a kite
Seth swore he'd do right
And his wife was tickled to death!
Another Springtime Chore
By Franklin Price
03/08/2022
I wrote of springtime yesterday
Of the flowers, birds and bees
And of the leaves and blossoms
On the bushes and the trees
Of the gardening and raking
That is needed out of doors
Not the things, I may be buying
At the Lowes and Walmart stores
This morning when I woke up
And my bare feet hit the wood
The dust I felt beneath them
Was anything but good
It was the house, reminding me,
Of the Springtime cleaning fun
For the vacuuming and mopping
I have been the chosen one
Barbara always did the dusting
That was always what she did
I may have to search the internet
For the lowest dusting bid
For she's no longer with me
To help me with the Springtime dust
I know she's grinning from above
I'll try to do it if I must
I guess we'll see just how it goes.
It may be Fall before I'm done.
I can also hear her laughter,
Although I'm having all the fun
Self-suppression
Of feasting and drinking beyond the road.
Conflicts and dissonance over the load
Trembling in the face of the tide, of youth age
Thoughts altogether are the sign of the rage
Prisoner of desire in a locked cage.
What if one claims to be a sage?
Fails among the average, but blurry beige
It's the act of dedicating oneself to a life of carnage.
One's heart is racing and his feet are pounding, as they search for
The taste of the sweet, becomes all the sour.
Skipping, sleeping through, and failing to complete the chore
Waiting for twilight to fall on the door.
On the head of me the dusk is to fall
It’s just a demand, why, why for?
Not quite, but on the inside
One must deceive oneself so as to hide.
. .
. .
. .
……Ksanet Brhane (peace of mind)…..
13/02/2022
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