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
First, they sent the dogs
And it became a dog’s toilet,
So, we moved to more remote areas.
Then they burnt the restaurant
So, we carried our own water and fruit
To the fringes of the liveable sands.
So as not to dry out like desert dates
We became slimmer and saved money.
Then they closed the parking lot
So, we walked miles on foot
We got fitter and saw more of nature.
What we saw became more beautiful
With each countering passage
For those of us who persevered.
Now there is hardly a soul left,
But those who are, are strong and fit.
Dune flowers are blooming again
Without the constant threat of trampling feet
And everywhere you can hear the rhythm of the sea,
White waves breaking and reforming refrains
Without the cries and shrieks of spoiled children
Or the barking of undisciplined domestic beasts.
We felt how beautiful everything is
Sub-human, man absent from God’s creation.
And even his attempts of countering and ruin
Were turned into creative and regenerative forces
Within us now greater love’s awareness courses.
my endless void of grief breathes pain
no light, no hope, no peace, no gain
just aching hollow uncontained
my memories unspoken
on replay always broken
adrift upon a glassy sea
of nothingness, a nowhere me
sedated by my apathy
a shell, a husk, no feeling
a ghostly past comes stealing
a whisper sighs within the haze
a truth sublime begins to blaze
life can be better than this phase
The mirror starts to splinter
An end for endless winter?
then breath returns somehow within
and pulse where none before had been
a hint of light past darkest sin
dim, unsure, yet brighter still
to heal a long broken will
the journey long, dark and bitter
yet beauty found amidst litter
grace and strength to become fitter
inner light, no surrender
heart unbroken but tender
;
Marsupials breed fitter litters
Marsupials feed titter spitters
Jitters on the venue
Critters on the menu
Marsupial Soup/Bitter Fritters
As if life seems to run through litter
Continued hits make life full of craters.
New ray of hope soon rising to glitter.
As optimist, be fit wishing fitter.
Don't lose confidence, hope never to yield.
Strong devotion - dedication to build.
Be competent explorer in your field.
Truth -honesty - labour to act as shield.
Adverse ambience is bound to alter.
In turquoise night to twinkle shiny stars.
Hope for the best ! Your nice days to enter.
Joyous Spring follows dull morose Winter.
Malice-enmity, always to disturb :
Don't allow mental peace to be perturbed.
Confront as a challenge, acting superb.
Take 'time', as best 'healer' : well known proverb.
Through ages humans are to discover
Pain of loss or grief, sure to be over.
From bruises and wounds you will recover.
No pessimism, proceed on endeavour.
On gift of recovery have belief.
At end of crisis, you will get relief.
Can be explained in details or in brief.
Behind cloud, exists silver lining in life.
I spend hours and hours waiting for you,
Where did your true self go?
The one I loved,
The one I dared to risk it for,
Where did your true self go?
The kindhearted mum full of joy and care,
The one I spent time trying to please,
I thought you loved me, wrong.
Used, cast aside for abundant immorality,
Driven away by insidious actions,
Hidden by the bottle poured deep into your soul,
Lost to the new way of life.
I will be stronger, fitter, a better man,
Your true self has emerged, evil and cruel,
I will fight for my health, my children, my faith in mankind,
Put you to one side and forget all the sorrow,
Rise up, break out, BeFree.
I don't want to be watched
as I stand on one leg.
It will make me wobble;
so please, please don't I beg.
I must take off my shoes
in order not to cheat.
Standing there in my socks
on just one of my feet,
I try first the left leg
with my eye on the clock.
As I count the seconds
I am starting to rock.
Ten seconds pass slowly
with my hands on my hips.
Will I get to twenty?
Oops! My right foot now dips
to the floor. What a shame
to reach only sixteen
It's the other leg's turn
to improve on this scene.
But the right leg is worse
and I only reach nine.
Now have I the patience
and the time to assign
to improve my balance?
To make myself fitter?
For the balance of life
I must not be a quitter.
Sailboats horses and carts and canal transport
Whale oil lighting and candles, salt to preserve
Meat, limited sanitation and available running
Water, all are part of a formerly more static society '
Which kept people in their national boundries.'
The emphasis seems to be on returning the
World to a typology of the above.? This being
Part of ( green agendas ) wordwide.?
Why then? Facilitate mass movements of
Humanity across borders.? If its more
Desirable for a worldwude static existence?
That will be inherent in any return to above
Practices.'
Is it just ideas.? That some people have cooked
Up after obtaining a doctorate, or other credentials
To get a million plus payment from a slush fund.?
With no real plan on how to live this out.?
I am myself quite prepared to live with limited
Technology..Yet it involves more effort, which
Would keep humans fitter.' A balance can be struck
But I dont see any cohesive drive.? I see ( a i ) and
A move to even more tech, and so called outsourcing
More desire for matterial things more waste much less
Recycling than from the 1920s to the 1980s am I
Alone in these observations? I welcome any comments.'
Love is not always reciprocated
Seeming some hearts terminally
constipated –
unable to relieve themselves
and others,
to make lighter many burdens,
the long suffering of less fortunate sisters
and brothers –
yes, love is not only
tender petting,
it is also to help stop daily
fretting – feeling hopeless smothers
love is sinking
wells and tilling fields
giving an extra helping hand
when Nature poorly yields
it is lighting a furnace of warmth
for the aged, by themselves too weak
to battle late hour’s bitter cold
it is seeing gold as not mere glitter
but a wealth that could make life desperate
fuller and fitter
Seek out those children abandoned and forgotten!
Restore a World order that nurtures its vulnerable fold –
Dear God, if love
could only be bought and sold, I would
earn to buy all
give all away free...
My own reserve entirely in Thee
I had to be much bitter,
Sure of the two The Fitter...
Away hours he'd fritter
On some spot steady sitter,
Never chats ends with Rita,
Engulfed in things that glitter
Fears of what in me bitter
I could betray as a hitter,
Peter dropping like litter
And never picking him up
An "I shan't - have - again pup"
So, its a lucky Peter,
For whom things have been neater.
He was the world’s last gun fighter
And he always worked in drag
Carrying his six shooters
In a special velvet bag.
No boots and spurs to jingle
As in to town he rode,
Just patent leather sling backs
High heeled and open toed.
He always arrived early
Before the heat of the sun
Always so very careful
His mascara didn’t run.
And when he’d done the job,
Left the body on the ground,
He always left so quickly,
Never ever hung around.
The world’s last gunfighter;
He always earned his fee,
And always in the morning so
As not to disturb his Earl Grey tea.
Then he carefully slipped back
Into his other life;
A gas fitter in Cheltenham
With two kids and a wife,
While the police of the world,
Who really didn’t know
Hunted the femme fatale
Of his alter ego.
When the next summons came
In the want ads of the Times
He’d don his Dior dresses
And kill just one more time.
Well it helped to pay the mortgage
And kept food on the table
And a mans got to do
Just what he’s really able.
He was the world’s last gun fighter
And he always worked in drag
Carrying his six shooters
In a special velvet bag
Nothing external can provide happiness.
Yet, it's how you view life through its rawness.
Millions of people come to us every day.
Fighting for food and relying on one pay.
Thank God that they have a roof overhead.
Dealing with finer aspects of life is a daily dread.
We all face difficulties in our strives.
Fear thwarts our efforts to sustain our lives.
Don't wait around for things to improve.
Actuate a list of everything you should prove.
Start now to promote a state of peace.
Otherwise, you won't have time to increase.
Instead, for your sanity, you need to let people go.
Carefully claim care of your health and mental ego.
They are family because they secern the button to push.
Forgiveness, letting go and moving on hush.
Blunders are affable teachers with a lifelong lesson.
Ask yourself, "What can we learn from now on?"
Deplete recent information to improve your life.
A fitter life from beauteous mistakes and strife.
Written: July 30, 2022
Though medicine tastes bad and bitter as it always skitters
On the tongue’s taste buds as the black sea on sand that glitters
It helps and uplifts the body to get fitter
Honey glazed on the rim of the medicine cup tastes so sweet
To children for the body’s healing from sickness’s heat
Gnostic teachings are tough to swallow in their obscurity
But paintings of words illustrate all their healing beauty
Made from the honeycombs of flowing thoughts with surety
For the healing and release of soul and spirit
The nectar for the bubbling spring is not from myself
But comes from the fruits that the Father has planted himself
So the whole cup is his work, I can’t take true credit itself
Therefore I accept that golden ink to drip unto the page
To make Christ’s teachings shine even more sweetly in this age
Date: 7/17/2022
Name of contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 8 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
With a slim fitter on her waist
Peak her ambition for a taste
For a small waistline
In a short amount of time
So, she wrapped herself up with tight lace
I was stressed and bewildered simultaneously.
My flesh is covered in a noxious mixture of agony.
Promptly, I enhanced a fitter grounded tolerance.
I was advised to be strong in the face of resilience.
I'm made of steel but also a shard of compassion.
While the iron corroded, I escaped in errorless condition.
As I was forced to protect myself, I showed prudence.
The individuals that lived inside destroyed the house.
As long as I could shrug the fear off my feet.
Only you and others who mourned your loss deceit
Written: November 11, 2021
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