If you like Keanu, you’ll love The Replacements
‘bout an ex-football player who's into effacement.
Called back to the big time when A-listers strike,
it’s got some great scenes that I know you will like.
I won’t spoil the story, but the cheerleading’s hot;
QB Falco’s the real deal, and Martel is not.
Wiry Nigel the kicker will have you enthralled,
as will Bateman when coach says, “Go get me the ball!
There isn’t much action if you hoped for a gun,
just some hard-hitting football and 2 hours of fun.
----------
H/T to Terry Flood's Movie Night
REALITY REVEALED *
dilemma
of
integrity
sensuality
conflicts
with curbed
desire
irony
in
self-effacement
ephemeral
& by chance
emotional
& dramatic
objective
an
influence
in academic notion
of the
unnoticed
omnipresent
to interpret
the unconscious
with
exhilarated
experience
where
architectonic
energies
of
indeterminate
shapes of
optical
multiplicity
enveloped
the
transparent
quickening
in the eyes
counterpoised
&
more endurable
the urge
&
the perception
of self
the desire
to
find satisfaction
in
organic beauty
a bestowal
of happiness
in
absurdities
embodying
unruly chaos
in the appearance
by accident
rather
than design
translated
into
manner
& style
always
inexpressible
an attempt
to understand
the austere
distortion
of an objective
consideration
&in particular
embodying
space
promote
a desire
&tendency
of
separation
In the hollows of power’s grip,
where shadows twist the heart’s cry,
there—mights build thrones on backs bent,
where abuse wears the mask of guidance,
control, a cloak woven with the thread of fear.
Power thrives in silence, feeding on the unspoken.
Manipulation, subtle as the serpent’s whisper,
curls around dreams, tightening,
threats drip, venomous, eroding hope,
indifference, a cold moon, shuns the warmth
of a shared sun, selfishness seizes, tight-fisted,
squelching the laughter of the young, the joy of the old.
The beauty of a soul, effaced,
a canvas scrubbed too raw,
bearing the brutal strokes of unkindness—
yet, beneath this, a pulse, a flicker:
resilience, a defiance against the night,
rising, always rising, despite the crush of the dark.
Bri E. may be so smart, but his meter's opaque
with a density quotient, the Gods might forsake.
Tongue in cheek, web's undone, but with spasms of fun,
and he rhymes, so he wins! Hope no evil Bri twins'
in the closet, past-postal on poems that pose
in-depth pulchritude, content, punch syllable's nose!
Let's leave room - puns play part, for perverse forms of art,
time that melts, colored dots; watch Bri's muse tied in knots!
Krakatoa Kritic #007
Does a poem that promotes your humility suggest you're humble?
Hmm! Well, as a grateful immigrant, I try to give Americans a lot
of rope, but I've got my eye on you, Bri! An 8+ to 9- for a fun self-
effacement that sounds fair!
See "Bri's So Smart! !….[ The Truth Must Be Told! ]" a poem by
Bri Edwards on PoemHunter.com!
roiling with rainfall
effacement of whiteboard gold
smudge of sunset highs
bleak venue of tinkling notes
rusting aluminum roof
2/24/2020
By Mark Miller © 02/19/2014
Compass of memories held loosely
Misdirection pointing in iota
Exquisitely anchored hangs an eminent noose
Minds of subdivisions wage illusion of wars in retribution
Fragments estranged states out of place in time and space
Mirrors alone in fears absent of frames reflect emotions after forever
Autobiographical absence in self reflect sedimentary memory
Shattered pieces held together through novel history of cursed metaphor
Reference into live characters pretense lies symbols scorn design of substance.
Features sensations realism in dreams creation a demons personification;
Subserviently locked behind shades shadows seeks the many repentance,
Fate of shame determines designation into bestiary summons
If offered crown of thorns I refuse,
Defacement of natures subliminal defiance
Diffused screams of thunder leaves pride aside embracing dark's grace,
In nearness lies the wait in reality's unconsciousness,
The gradual self-effacement of my dead.
To run after material fame
Counted not rich sensitive game;
Among wealth, sex and love affair,
Character is above all arbiter.
As adorn ornament each bridal's limb,
An artist make alive clumsy-wart-stone;
Company bear trophy by aggressive troops
Oblige character graceful at distress grown;
The character die seldom minus bloom,
Yet en-lights personality fade in gloom;
Usually left little paid proper care,
Although always seen inclined sincere;
Certain place customary said temple
Where almighty's statue noted install
Estimated body deserving only when;
Thermal of character ne'er fall;
Effort need to build the character
Honesty and endurance are weapon mere;
By effacement total thought rankle
And block pulse hide egotism perennial;
Good name lost can regain later
But character pleases rare if blot;
A richest jewel survive human tread;
Turn soul ill, fret, spiritless on rot.
The day was falling,
enacting all its own regret
with light, like washed-out technicolor.
One glance affirmed:
the rain would soon begin.
Thunderheads played God,
recruiting legions higher still;
I saw the sand provoked
and furious upon the air.
I saw the lake retreat before the storm,
presuming self-effacement...
knew its delerium beyond,
knew the restless surface
hid its grave intent
and made its secrets even less accessible.
But there they were,
churning far offshore,
where relics of a war might gently rock
and dream their glory days,
then slipping down to rest...
I saw my death beat back its coverlet,
and mocking, seek an alien breath.
Time hovered. Secrets die ungraciously.
As so, might I.
But then the overflowing womb
that cast its tempest to the land and air
brought birth full circle in retreat--
Vivos...Mortuos
It was complete.
~
Darkness covered ever crevice,
When the angels of God betrayed the Lamb,
And the tongue of accuser, set us all down in the shame and guilt of self-
effacement.
The sound of fury cursed our joy,
That we all bowed down and couldn’t stand,
And the pain of regret, set disease in all our arms and legs,
But there was one angel, an old black woman,
Who saw the light of day anyway,
And she took her cane and through it to the side,
And said, “Hey baby I’m a embrace this ride,”
No matter what, I’m a go to drive in movies,
And I’m a smile come what may,
And I’m a sing a song of roses, despite the darkest day,
And she began to flap her wings,
And the wind from her bosom spread across the cosmos,
And the world knew celebration.
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