The Color Blue
A blue rinse enhanced her short-cropped hair,
eyelids heavily coated with frosty blue shadow.
Bright blue nail polish drew attention to her gaudy rings.
The blue dress she wore clung tightly to her voluptuous body.
Moonlight shone on the blue fringe of his tallit
which lay, discarded, on the counterpane.
Blue exhaust trailed from their departing car.
So Instagram is a sham
Everyone seems smitten
With posts about a kitten
Or hosts who hate Britain
Or boasts so badly written
Toasts flam & are all bitten
Goddam is just like spam
Famalam use as a babysitter
Wham bam for any dimwitter
Won’t scram will be a big hitter
Instagram is just glam glitter
Oh please look at me vanity
Narcissist wheeze is insanity
Tease with another profanity
Disease crippling all humanity
Pedants on pews lives fritter
Algorithm queues like twitter
Bottom feeder ruse you critter
Needier travesty tapestry knitter
Greedier fuse lit & now shi*ter
Seedier impropriety just litter
Social media a society splitter
Notoriety trolls scrolls flitter
Anxiety but folks will still titter
Piety for botox you’ll be fitter
Ham it up cash cow AI lie spitter
Kowtow get no views so just bitter
Kapow a scam not some Ashram
Stop cropped photoshopped slop
They cram in a half baked pitta
Instagram is bust and just a sham
Misshapen Characters
They stood overlooking us like monuments
Carved wrong, titles raised, Integrity cropped
Down to a particle.
Their shoulders were uneven- One Organized
With authority, The other clamorous where
Empathy be required to have lived. They
Walked through corridors that extended
To fit their swollen names, each plaque
Polished more glaring then the truth on
The other side of it. Their decisions fell
From great heights, heavy as stone,
Landing hardest on the ones who never
Learned to cite loud enough to be heard
Spiraling.
They measured us with rulers arched by
Bias, weighed us on measure titled by
Convenience, and called the imbalance
System methodology. Their power grew
Disproportionate, A skyscraper built on
Crooked joists. Inclination further each
Year toward self-interest away from the
People holding up the cornerstone with
Tired hands.
Yet even Misshapen Characters cast dimness
And our began to rise, expansion long across
The ground, evoking them that height is not
The same as honor, and soaring is not the
Same as standing tall.
Pink Santa only had one goal that day
To point out the mystery gift to his cousin Trey
Trey made fun of him, so the pointing stopped
in the picture, his finger got cropped
So, Trey had to wait until Christmas Day
To find out which package held his sleigh
It was his own fault, he should not have been a bully
Making fun of Santa for wearing pink, which was silly
I am flattered to matter so much that
you intend to keep your eyes on me.
Even when I am home you want to see
how all fares with my activities.
Such a preponderance of concern
is truly something I haven’t earned.
If being violated, observed, is
mandatory, I’d prefer to have a
Big Sister watching my female self
in every room of the house.
Will I be viewed in my car, the one
place I may freely sing off tune?
If so, I expect no criticisms,
hitting the mute will have to do.
I’d have to give up so very much,
like scratching where it itches,
picking my nose in a fierce dig,
wearing hobo or very little clothes,
and eating food that just hit the floor.
How do I know I won’t be taped,
my parts cropped for pervert art?
If the honey, I should get some money.
I have to say I am mighty boring.
Sister or brother should take care,
put a kotex on their forehead to
reduce soreness when snoring
heads slam down hard on their desk.
Who will watch the watcher of me?
Oh, I know, our shared Big Father will
see your sincere gaze aiding me.
Bound to notepad page
Mind locked in a cage
Margins rule insight
Cropping left and right
Bias frames the view
Cutting truth askew
they always ask me to stay a little longer,
as if laughter came from my skin.
as if I could be unlonely
just by making sure no one else is.
I fill the room,
and yet I’m never
in it.
they love me most
in photographs cropped at the waist—
in group chats
where I type like a mirror
and vanish like fog.
I am the pause before the pretty one speaks.
I am the arm wrapped around her waist.
I am the voice that steadies the silence
but never stirs the heart.
boys tell me I’m safe,
like a bed they’ll never sleep in.
they laugh
and I laugh
and my laugh
is a little too practiced.
I know how to fold desire
into a joke
before anyone sees it.
I know how to be background,
the warm blur,
the easy comfort
you never imagine kissing.
and still—
when I cry
it’s always quietly.
as if I don’t want
to make anyone
uncomfortable.
Where fire’s rage
no flame unfanned
The cinch retightened
no also ran
As horns go silent
the gate is dropped
On victory’s path
his legend cropped
Unbridled passion
distraction flees
A trophy hails
as reins go free
The end in sight
where roses wait
Ablaze in glory
— outrunning fate
(Paris Kentucky: June, 1986)
Started his career as a playback musician
He took no much time to reach the lead position
Renowned as a singer, dancer, and songwriter
Overwhelmed with heavy loads of musical flair
Stunningly, he used to swirl body like a snake
For him, dancing and singing were a piece of cake
with cropped pants, loafers and a suspended hair lock
Left crowds screaming with iconic moves of moonwalk
With tons of love, his fans called him the King of Pop
In roaring theatres, he used to make all scream and hop
Invincible Thriller, The Way You Make Me Feel
Rock With You, I Want You Back to the world to heal
(Third stanza- last two lines are his albums)
STRATEGY
a spatial
boundary
dismantled
from
memory
tranquil
cropped
in
an
encoded
facade
encroached
by
eloquent
realms
of unspoilt
semi- abstract
crests
glistening
phenomena
patterned
representation
consonances
plays of light
in recurring
ambivalent
composition
indifferent
intractable
invisible
dynamic
contrasts
summed up
in the
unfamiliar
ELOQUENCE
a
reticent
celebration
of ambiguity
latent
licit
straightforward
yet
oblique
interpretation
beyond
the
inner image
nurtured
in
connected
tendencies
to evolve
closely
obsessive
an ambivalent
narrative
observed
in
dreamy
abandon
of
unmistakable
pleasure
initiated
in
the
unconscious
made
manifest
by
desire
once
repressed
derived
by
a sense
of
intimacy
As I cut the grass I curse Ben Franklin
He fell in love with France’s close-cropped fields
However, in the land of Kings and Jesters
Who never ate an orange wasn’t peeled
Knew not the toil of trimming, or re-seeding
Knelt before no one save for their King
Walked slowly the gardens of the peons
Felt not the thorn or hornets nasty sting
Strode beneath the banners of their quest
An ancestry of poison, knives and lies
Powdered wigs, perfume, a silken jest
To clip the wilting flower ‘fore it dies
Curse you Ben for being France’s pawn
For ever setting foot upon a lawn
John G. Lawless
©7/2/2023
I have power; this war I will win; Putin thought,
Hydrogen and nitrogen bombs war crews threw;
Ukrainian troops too like classic heroes fought,
Grief, fear, and rage within the hearts of people brew;
Volodymyr Zelenskyy, help from nations sought,
Some shammed to show concern; in truth, away they flew;
We're superpowers, the Russians float in pride,
It's then the Ukrainians took them for a ride...!
NATO battle tricks the Ukrainians did adopt,
Vengeance from Russians with vigilance they blew;
With bombs, within Russians, hatred topped,
Within Ukrainians, lo, patient calmness grew;
When Putin thought the Ukrainian heads are cropped,
From resilience, Ukrainians, their strength drew,
Thousands of powerful tanks the Russians lost,
Conceit crossed, tossed and frost, finally did exhaust...!!!
01 January 2023
Artist Mary Cassat so ' Henry James'
helped collectors with their acquisitic games
With meaningful moments of the 'well-to-do'
in attractive pics cropped&true
The Only Star For Me
It’s my corner coffee shop, Starbucks
The cheer starts here with hot coffee
I’ll get yours, it’s nothing, awe shucks
A home away from home, my family
A blended Frappuccino, at lunch to boast
Make it a Sumatra Arabica venti
Fresh whole coffee beans dark roast
Patrons on Laptops, their cup’s never empty
Macha Latte hot tea, sweet and uplifting
Named after Starbuck, the first mate in Moby Dick
Originally intended on naming the coffeehouse Pequod
after Ahab’s whaleship, the name would not stick
At the brand’s core is the Starbucks siren, odd
The bare-breasted, two-tailed mermaid but
was intended to be as seductive as their coffees
Based on an old sixteenth-century Norse woodcut
The Seattle’s Pike Place logo evolved in the seventies
They unveiled a cleaner image of the mermaid
She was updated, cropped, and repositioned,
so that only above the navel is displayed
Morning’s first frost
Ghost sprawled to lawns
Horizon sun
Snowman’s head rolled from fog
The backs of deer
Cut atop the cropped bean fields
Like circling shark fins
On the way
To my last years at work
I wait like any other
As a bus fills up with cut-out children
Red lights flashing
Engine trembling from its hurdy gurdy
The last of our birdies
Has flown the nest
What will be left
Of us?
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