A beautiful chicken sandwich
That came from Chick-fil a
I wished I'd fixed a Manwich
That bought sandwich was horrible~ aye
I wish at Chick-fil-a I had let it stay
The chicken breast looked dire
As if cooked on a filthy grill
'Twould make my cooking look higher
Almost chef inspired with frills
It was dry and tasteless
Oh! My! I couldn't eat much 'twas wasteless
The bread had an scent
It wasn't skunk or mold,
On eating it I was not bent
If I could be so bold
And that Lettuce, a disgrace
I now understand why
It was on the low cal menu place
None could eat more than few bites sigh
If bought, their appetite would definitely go
I will never as long as memory holds
Order another one from there ~so
This story I bravely tell you bold....
I have ordered other items from there and they were edible so I would get something else there is everyone wanted Chick-Fil-A.
Santa dances on rooftops quite flimsy
To fil the dreams of childhood whimsy
His sex life is cold
Be he brazen or bold
Only comes once a year, down a chimney
If
you say
Adam Schiff
should have his day,
maybe get a whiff
of power, making hay
on the nation’s fiscal cliff,
then you’re bright. You know Chick-Fil-A
(not the same thing as a secure SCIF)
is where bit-coin investors go to play,
the merest capitalist hieroglyph:
Coca-Cola, too, has feet of clay.
So, Socialism: jpeg? Gif?
Develop it in your tray:
to know the truth, just sniff.
This won’t go away.
You’re cool? You’re stiff?
Straight, or gay?
One riff –
PAY.
A clown named Ronald
Sold us on McDonalds
Then the King came to play
Saying have it your way
Old Dave squared the deal
Inviting us to Wendy's for a meal
The Queen has ice cream treats
Old Arby has the meats
Bojangles danced in with chicken and tea
But the Colonel holds the secret recipe
When along came a chick from down GA
Goes by the name of Fil-A
She refuses to work on a Sunday
Yet it is her pleasure to lead the way
A lock of sweat-matted hair over one eye,
she shakes a red knuckled fist at a naked child,
wailing upon a cold floor.
Mary drying feet with her hair.
Mary at the temple calling.
A street corner Mary full of sperm,
full of a grace,
She is invisible to rabid dogs and drunks.
Old or young,
fat Mary on roller skates,
sweet Mary sucking candy,
badly handled, nameless Mary's.
Sweet Mother,
the sweet lure of jail baiters winking.
The bold-faced laughter
of the -you, free-thinking.
Today the sky is a Robin egg blue,
robed in virginal light.
In a Chick-fil-a, a family is praying
over their sandwiches.
I make the sign of the cross.
I mean, why not?
The book you offered to me
waits by my side,
in its silky blanket
while is risking
a timid autumn sun.
If I open it, I guess
leaves contain
much more than a ray,
because when I dive into it
these are your words that I think I read.
So it develops
all along the pages,
as if your hot breath
accompanied a tiny new plant
towards spring.
____________________________
Le livre que tu m'as offert
attend à mes côtés,
dans sa couverture soyeuse
pendant que se risque
un timide soleil d'automne.
Si je l'ouvre, je devine
que ses feuilles contiennent
bien plus qu'un rayon,
car, quand je m'y plonge
ce sont tes paroles que je crois y lire.
Ainsi se développe-t-elle
a fil des pages ,
comme si ton souffle chaud
accompagnait une nouvelle pousse
vers le printemps.
RC
World of violence
As the morning slowly breaks
and, daylight in fil trates...
I feel,
the sunshine- burn away the grey
I feel,
the dawning, of a brand new day
I wish, the clouds would
confiscate the rain...
ease the pain ...
as I awaken,
to a world of violence.
In a world not far away
another bullet pen e trates...
another,
black soul it takes
Did you hear his cries...
for mercy?
Will his words be heard by...
the jury?
Or,
is justice, controlled by
the hand with the gun?
Answers...no one!
Can't we just stop...
the violence?
They say human nature hates...
so just surrender to the fates
so...does that mean it's too late?
Why is it so hard for us
to be kind?
Is this the end of
humankind?
Or, Is it true...
that only the strong survive?
Or is it better...
having God on our side?
Aren't you tired of this world of violence?
I am.
John Derek Hamilton
November 09, 2018
re-posted Jun09,2020
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2018
Dear God or whatever,
you can begin me now.
Begin me on a whiteboard,
a blackboard, anything that can be erased
to begin again.
My cookie was crumbling,
my cookie was baked with bad blood.
Dear whatever,
begin me as if I were a dying fish
on a far shore gulping alien air.
I took myself to the edge,
pecked at the abyss
my chicken heart clutching
a chicken-hearted prayer.
Then a magnificent whatever,
ate me up
like I were a Chick-fil-A sandwich
with extra hot sauce.
Now I am ready to begin,
I really mean it,
I think.
Pizza!
Two Glasses.
With chilled Chianti.
Jar of hot peppers.
Charming red and white tablecloth.
Warmed decorated Sicilian plates in baskets.
Waiter stands attentively, to fil any needs .
Cutting the thick delicious culinary Italian steaming treat.
Shoes off, dancing to Italian music,beneath the table.
Lastly, silver caraffe of coffee plus Spumoni with a cherry.
June 10, 2019
8am PST
god forbid
some people
cried and some
people sighed how
but not just how but why
am i
it seems
delinquent
or delinquently
casting out my son
to a world
where weird
faults are found
in every thing even
how your child thinks
where
where were
where were the
parents parentally
think
about
changes that
may have come
from chicken Mc
Nuggets
to Chick-fil-
A or processed
patties that can
but not pass the FDA
i
i am
proud
to say that
my son is free range
N'ayant plus son corps galbé dans mes bras,
Je ne peux plus trouver rien de chaud.
Le ciel m'apparaît constamment bien bas,
Qu'il fasse de l'orage ou qu'il fasse beau.
Tous les jours je cherche ses pas,
En pensée, par monts et par vaux;
Chaque nuit, sous l'appât de ses appas,
Je rêve d'elle et de caresser sa peau.
Les pantoufles froides, le parfum croupissant,
Veulent à la dérobée rappeler leur maîtresse d'antan.
Plein la chambre, les câlins et chuchotements révolus font la navette,
Se demandent avidement où le fil de mon journal intime va s'aboutir.
Douloureusement la réalité décevante émerge de la cachette,
Toujours est-il que ma songerie diaprée tarde toujours à s'engloutir.
World of violence
As the morning slowly breaks
and, daylight in fil trates...
I feel,
the sunshine- burn away the grey
I feel,
the dawning, of a brand new day
I wish, the clouds would
confiscate the rain...
ease the pain ...
as I awaken,
to a world of violence.
In a world not far away
another bullet pen e trates...
another,
black soul it takes
Did you hear his cries...
for mercy?
Will his words be heard by...
the jury?
Or,
is justice, controlled by
the hand with the gun?
Answers...no one!
Can't we just stop...
the violence?
They say human nature hates...
so just surrender to the fates
so...does that mean it's too late?
Why is it so hard for us
to be kind?
Is this the end of
humankind?
Or, Is it true...
that only the strong survive?
Or is it better...
having God on our side?
Aren't you tired of this world of violence?
I am.
John Derek Hamilton
November 09, 2018
Tender tear drops drip
like dreams from pain ted petals, as slowly, I
pick my path through the st inging nettles of every pain
filled word you say. You pus h me away with idle chattel,
as in my heart I fight this loosing battle. Can't you see I'm
so lonely without you. I would gladly be there to hold
your hand through life's insipid sorrow if you would
but let me. I would fill you with joy and make
you smile each day with fragrant lavender
roses. But I know you don't feel the
same. Your indifference hurts.
Am I so difficult to love?
I would joyfully give
you my world
if you let
me.
01/29/17
Me wander into my neighborhood world
Bike riding and flying through the area like a bird
Quick through the cool wind flight
Pursuing down mists in in·fil·trat·ing light
Whispers to the breeze
I feel the twinkle of the sun and the trees
The sky is blue with refreshing air
I feel the zephyr blowing through my hair
Wind on the streets, I surrender all
Pedal faster than my heartbeat could haul
For the excite, the wind welcomes me tenderly
I fly all over slopes cleverly
Wheels turning on the pivot
I embrace its touch every minute
My knuckles have swung to white
From grasping the handlebars so tight
Flourshd with unwavering beauty
evry time i try to talk abwt u i get numb
infact, i can never tlk about u with a steady heart
i cn nvr fishn talkng abwt u bcoz no wordz ,no amount of time z enough
from evry corner ,all sides u are perfect
the beauty u have and what is in u evryone envy it
evryone want that piece of cake
my life ,numero uno ,my heart
my heart poundz only fo u ,my strength whn im weak
a pact alwayz by your side til the end
love u uncontrolably ,undoubtably wil alwyz stick
stick with u in happy tymz and whn it hurts
the history u had and dat we have, it mattrz the most
with all the pwr strength i have i will protect
protect and tke cautxn my hut u ar etruly my life
my treasure ,the luv i got i cant measure
what i fil ,wat i want only my hut knows
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