Greedy, bitter, jealous, and lustful women with free range
Unfortunately the masks are off; they will be treated estrange,
Impersonating many people with prideful alter ego capacity
Self absorbing made them all grin and behave with audacity,
The investigation warrants for a list of charges and sentences fairly
The tables have turned over abruptly loud and unceremoniously,
They never expected major setup setback or down spiral luck
Never reaching a feeling of remorse, now quacking like a duck,
Let this be a lesson for those control by that alter ego
That quick scheme thinking leads to a horrid prison expo.
I'm at an expo
an expo for foreign countries' universities
they're advertising themselves to us
the people with little
the little people
I am seated
At a chair so comfy
Yet my heart so weary
That I'm wasting my time
That they're here mostly for themselves
I'd like to think otherwise
But for now that is the reality
That I Have consciously chosen
And there's no convincing me the other way
But do I really need them?
Looking at Kenyan Statistics
Looks like I do
If Binyanvanga Wainana wouldn't have made it outside Kenya
If Lisa Odour wouldn't have began her career at Berkeley
If Chimamanda wouldn't have gone to U.S....
The story is different
The plot is the same
Like a sickening soap opera
That everyone is watching
And so you're inclined to do the same
I'm worried
That if I don't get something to do
I will have wasted my day
That if I don't talk to the familiar faces
I won't be able to talk to the strange ones
This was such a perfect day
Until I got here.
I'm leaving now
..continues to sit.
Could it your fancy tickle:
The fluid you need does trickle;
Legs once free like vehicles
On Stopped Feet of Manacles?
Won’t it up get one’s hackles
That one often tasks tackles
Others’ Wrists not in shackles
For what one down to buckles?
You others tag ‘The Fickle’
Fit only for the sickle;
Expo sure to ridicule:
Lots of in Article
That you know “Just Bicycle”
Swearing on “No Icicle!”
Honestly, I won’t like it,
Though shan’t jump into a pit!
I first thought it just an old purse,
hand-tooled- child sized-
with braided leather strap and aged patina-
purchased in an antique shop
to hang on a wall or place on a shelf.
But something unexpected came with the purse,
it seems to have an id-
that draws and imparts deep melancholy-
that speaks to me over the years-
of a treasured gift from a loving parent-
a memento of happy days-
that blissful innocence could not foresee
ever coming to an end-
of tragedy and pathos- then old age-
of living with regret and dying alone.
What is this pervading id- the deep sorrow
that is sensed- to whom did it belong-
why does it linger here? The reason seems
very clear, I think I know the name-
is it She- the one inscribed…
Lydia Fiedler, Portland Expo 1905?
You may rest now Lydia- go in peace- and
know that your treasure is safe with me.
12/30/15
It's prime time
And the difference is seperated by a fine line
Hello
All these fellows
Softer than marshmallows
Your girl keeps trying to stick to me like velcro
And continues shaking that booty like jello
This is just a demo
In case you didn't get the memo
Not against it but am very unfamiliar with techno
And flamenco
At the expo
Met mo' girls wearing stilettos
Then left those premises with one around each elbow
Later on felt like Gordon Gecko
As I passed a petco and began to head home
Down the next road
Just like that, presto
A sudden new perspective after passing an old and withered meadow
I suddenly stopped to burn some endo
From Mendo
And then found a memento
Had lots of pasta with pesto
Started coolin' and felt pretty mellow
Until these fools started being yellow
Began a trek so
I could have my intellect grow
Inside and above areas known to have an echo
By: Dalton Ogletree
Unity colors rainbow, apt in the world to glow
Apt Love of many to show, in a world expo
The crime scene was Cobo Hall
where I attended the annual show;
minding my business, dressed in a suit,
flirtatious NOT at the car expo.
A beautiful orchid centerpiece
oozed pollen o’er table and chair,
while across from me a salesman sat,
an accomplis in the affair.
He distracted me from the temptress
as her rouge lathered my hand.
I tried to wipe it clean
but the mess did only expand.
That night I checked into Motel Six
where I noticed all were staring.
The bathroom mirror did solve the crime
and showed me I was wearing
orchid pollen on cheeks and brow,
orange streaks from the sick cabal,
for today I’d been seduced
by a fetching femme fatale.
joy of written word
Here comes the festival again
‘For the joy of written word’
There comes a time when
My excitement is limitless
Like the little children I bloom
Noting sweet than a book I see
Nothing joyous that words I read
Here comes the festival again
‘For the joy of written word’
The world of books & words
The festival of writers & words
In the cultural capital it comes
I prepare like the joys of Eids
Make list, spreading the news
Along with the friends i prepare
New faces to meet, new books
Authors, poets & writers
Young and old to meet
New cultures to discover,
New words to learn
A festival unlike in red deserts
A festival of million books
A festival of billion thoughts
Beating in my heart with joy
Here comes the festival again
‘For the joy of written word’
Dedicate to Sharjah International Book Fair - 2011 #SWBF
This trade show is held in Expo Centre Sharjah during 16 Nov 2011 to 26 Nov 2011
I live in a state shaped by glaciers long ago
In the middle of the heat, we want it to snow
The breadwinner of many homes is what we grow
Here comes another winter, around forty below
Watch out for black ice roads wherever you go
Summer is six months away, yep, don't ya know
Melting snow makes for one big old muddy hole
Changing seasons so often, a backcountry expo
Minnesota fearing Green Bay Packers on a roll
Wilderness found up north, catch it on a pole
Mississippi flowing to its west into the soul
Universities preparing us, system educational
Wisconsinites moving forward on our loam soil
Architectonics with Frank, ingenuity and toil
Hydroelectrical powered first on the Fox flow
Conservationists residing, protecting fallows
Sesquicentennials of livestock, corn in silos
Characteristically unique, breadbasket tempos
Out
from
the shade-
with her light
Clara spread her wings
Mrs Clara Driscoll(one of Tiffany's lamp designers) won an award for him at Paris Expo 1900
with drafon fly lampshade.