Complaining is now open, we can make it easy and post it.
Complaints can be viewed and move like the wind for all to see and comment.
Complaining is easy now, it can move and gain a crowd, it can get opposition, it can grow and gain a reputation.
Complaining can help us learn, see others views, make us change our minds, and move to a different point of view.
Complaining can be useful it can make us become a better person and change for the good, making others change and make all of our life become super cool.
So do not be afraid, complain, learn, and take part in learning how to make our life better and better every day.
Lifting prayer to God, today and always.
Babs lives in an upscale neighborhood
zoned for single family dwellings
two weeks ago a non-family moved across the street
and three houses down
Babs can easily see them from her window.
She is keeping her eye on them
Logging their activities.
6:45 a.m. red car with tiny lady parks.
6:52 a.m. white truck with big wheels, large man goes inside.
7:15 a.m. skinny woman with red hair leaves.
11:45 a.m. two strange-looking women sit on lawn
they are covered in blankets
talking loudly on their cell phones
Babs has called the city to complain.
But complain about what? they want to know.
She is not sure.
Yet.
A body at rest remains at rest
expounded Newton. And unless
it’s acted upon it will remain so.
To her husband she said: You fit
Newton’s law to a cinch.
You’ve been at rest for years,
she said, and despite the kicks
I’ve delivered to your fat rear
you still haven’t budged an inch!
The treadmill I bought for my brain,
one day, would drive me insane.
I went nowhere to return it,
The store was gone. Did someone burn it?
I said, "It squeaks. It doesn't chime.
WD-40 just makes it rhyme."
Trial in Complaint by Corruption
Without notice of state of emergency regarding homelessness
Poverty law precludes me from prosecution as in definition of rights the slaves literacy is justice.
#makenahuey #asmirwin #mikeytaylor #cagovernor #realdonaldtrump #vcpublicdefender #venturapolice #vcsheriff #sbcpubdef #tonybiasotti
My mom's children numbered four,
so, when she went to the grocery store,
she filled the cart up and then some more,
and complained to her friends in frustration -
she'd paid twenty dollars (because of inflation)
at the grocery store.
Tho' they may display legs to best advantage,
observing the constraints, begs the question, 'What's afoot?'
Seems to me I had a bee in my bonnet
about women's proclivities and passion
when compelled to write this pseudo-sonnet
about their footwear fashion.
Some are bonkers barmy as bedbugs, daft, dippy, daffy,
(with) bats in the belfry too,
it's far beyond my reckoning, as I can't fathom,
why they choose to wear the pairs of shoes they do.
And as for a clue, I haven't any, why they own so very many.
With their platforms, pumps, stilettos, wedges, they're tottering on
the edges of insanity, an exercise in futility,
an accident about to happen, one stumble, a tumble then... a calamity.
Seeing them hobble, while their dogs are barking,
these are the words they'd speak, if their feet could talk,
'Cinderella had the right idea, losing her glass slipper,
as oh the pains you put us through when you are wont to walk.
It's no more than torture, a total imposition,
somewhat akin to boots of the Spanish Inquisition.'
Complaint
I'm Just
Complaining For
No Reason Just
To Have A New And
Fresh Example
Of What
It's Like.
Pure and Unadulterated.
Could Be Generally Useful.
Or Just Important.
Scratch That.
NOT Important.
-Gray Squirrel
05-18-2025
I bring life and light,
and still get blamed for the mud—
May steals all my praise.
the home was taught
in form as passing custom
to hide is freedom
from a sight not allowed to begin
protected from cinders town
escaped to preserve brown
a coastal expanse
blinding beauty
remaking lords
from dukes and blow
grandmothers quakes
learning by instruction
how to blend
defend and die
prescribe and imbibe
adjust and join
dive and dive
destroy your remains
and bridges as news escaped home
awakenings blame
prides failing regret
astride regrets wings
bring home the pens
quill and brow
be fearful of when
you, when is your new name
If you don’t like my poem, just close it tight,
It won’t harm me, I’ll be all right.
History itself will judge, not we,
Who stands tall, and who’s lesser, you’ll see.
I write my verses as my heart desires,
My only demand is truth that inspires.
Better to cry out and die for what’s real
Than cross to the other side with sin to conceal.
Will I find happiness? Maybe, maybe not,
It matters little if I’m liked or forgot.
My duty is truth for the future to bear;
If not, would I not rest idle somewhere?
Have I fulfilled my duty? I cannot say,
Have I done good or simply gone astray?
Instead of questioning those like me,
To the future, I’ll write my plea!
You may not be an angel, but still you strive,
The truth of life will always survive.
When hellfire scorches your very soul,
Our earthly woes will seem so small.
Demons and spirits grow numerous today,
True sincerity feels further away.
Before your conscience, your soul purifies,
Through the good deeds seen by human eyes.
A person redeems with kindness alone,
And a cleansed soul brings me joy unknown.
Let my people testify to the truth of my word,
And let this petition stand as my accord!
“Hey Cupid, hollered the Saint,
bringing me couples, ya ain’t!”
Cupid answered, “So what?
Ya just get what ya got.
Don’t mix prayer with complaint.”
Even if some rare corningware may be hypothetically worth a LOT
what ordinary person would buy it, cook with it, or let it get hot??
LIGHT VERSE AND NONSENSE VERSE IX
Disconcerted
by Michael R. Burch
Meg, my sweet,
fresh as a daisy,
when I’m with you
my heart beats like crazy
& my future gets hazy ...
The Less-Than-Divine Results of My Prayers to be Saved from Televangelists
by Michael R. Burch
I’m old,
no longer bold,
just cold,
and (truth be told),
been bought and sold,
rolled
by the wolves and the lambs in the fold.
Who’s to be told
by this worn-out scold?
The complaint department is always on hold.
Alas, Sir Munchalot!
by Michael R. Burch
You ate too much,
your common lot;
you munched too much,
so now you’ve got
a gut.
Hadrian’s Elegy
by Michael R. Burch
My delicate soul,
now aimlessly fluttering ... drifting ... unwhole,
former consort of my failing corpse ...
Where are we going—from bad to worse?
From jail to a hearse?
Where do we wander now—fraught, pale and frail?
To hell?
To some place devoid of jests, mirth, happiness?
Is the joke on us?
Keywords/Tags: heart, humor, humorous, irony, light, light verse, nonsense, joke, truth, future, soul
CONTRI and DISTRI
Someone somewhere decided English
needed to be changed.
As usual with our copy-cat world, so dire
an unthinking band wagon has spread as
a forest fire.
An academic,typically verbose, wrote
'why use one when two' could sound
more up-to-date and new!
Thus the 'double prefix' was conceived
and sadly like a Topsy grew.
Contri and Distri have wrongly become
the norm and vernacular pronunciation
overcoming like a desert storm.
English does indeed each day live
and breathe ... BUT..
one thought with you I leave..
a double pre-fix cannot be ..
ignorance is not bliss..you see?
NOTE CON & DIS are prefixes to, for example English words like TRIBUTE.'Contri and Distri' are not prefixes to any known English word, they are a 'modern' 'madhatter syllabic nonsense' straight our of Alice in Wonderland.
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