Summer here we come!
I love the impropriety
Pastel, fun, outfit.
July 7th Benevolence
Spies Flawed Sight in Tammuz,
Yiddens’ Tragic Hearing in Av,
Shemiras Einayim, impropriety removes,
3 Middos did Avraham have,
Good Eye, Humble Spirit & Generous Neshama,
Their counter moves:
Ayin Rah from a blind Lev,
Arrogant Spirit, Ala denial of Truth,
Greedy Neshama follow ingratitude does!
Yet thinking your answers give birth,
To the Emes, yields “Gaivahdik” shallows,
Better to grope! … say, “I don’t know!”,
20/20 can be an illusion,
Attending focus is by Anavah,
5 Tammuz 5771 was my stroke intrusion,
Closing my outer eyes is how,
My inner eye yields “Ruchnius” Fusion!
Echad = 13, Unison,
It’s the 13th Anniversary!
As a figure in history and legend, she is mythic
but was regarded as parasitic and horrific.
She was demonized and dehumanized;
a woman so fiery,
known for notoriety and impropriety;
a mistress of seduction,
corruption and obstruction,
haughtiness and ungodliness.
Banished for not obeying Adam,
she embodied the fears of man:
a symbol of emasculation,
a primordial she-demon.
There is another side to her story.
Perhaps she deserves to be covered in glory.
She was strong and independent
and while facing resentment
for not being subservient,
she was unrepentant.
For many women, she is transcendent;
a figure so mythical
for feminine strength, she is the pinnacle,
her assertiveness: unequivocal.
Her name means "belonging to the night",
but she may be the brightest light
because - her admirers make no apology -
she represents equality.
The Obiden Administration is the yeast infection of society.
The improv of impropriety.
The B squad strip club-bullet scarred-in line item
veto
of buffet line, Golden Corral of Megiddo of Communism in the sub zero Winter of our discontent manifest manifesto, with supply lines severed and trucking lines red line crossed white line fevered,
picking up hitch-hikers instead of towing the bill
of more spam, poltical theater,
this time at the border,
Jihad ampetheater.
Where's the oil drilling, refineries, manufacturing (besides lies)
where is the poor and middle class relief?
Where's the Beef!?
Our former lives.
Well its been burned in processing plant fires,
alot of them.
Got Milk?
Got your vaccine?
Get moving this line isn't for gasoline.
Its for booster shots, the other two for media education and guillotines.(I will add this here, so there isn't 1666 characters in the box) now, 1591,
...there, oops it went down again
~Anastastia O....
There In Morning Sun, Hope Circled Enticing Dreams
From inside gaping jaws, golden honey slow drips
its taste as if bitter hell came with deadly judgment
life turned into a bevy of sunken ships
with the dried up bones below a sadden statement.
With solid granite illuminating moon 's glow
ironclad hills buried secrets sadder mysteries
impropriety ran in and melted wicked snow
starving for more people ate from empty granaries.
The wicked angels flew about on leaden wings
watching for the innocence of the golden truth
dawn's light erupted brought the small songbirds that sing
for hot romance and the vanities of our youth.
There in morning sun, hope circled enticing dreams.
Father time gave its fruit to fill the icy streams.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet,
Feb 25th, 1971
To qualify as an educated gent
to certain boarding-schools one must be sent
To learn how to position one's fork and knife
and raise one's pinkie, unlike lowlifes
A gent speaks with an air of charm and grace
his nose gradually rising on his face
Savaging the ways of 'today's barbaric youth'
while knocking down shots of gin and vermouth
Such gents betimes depart fine society
exposing themselves ~ targets of impropriety
them we should pity
Politicians not pretty
Impropriety
to anyone poems apply
with all my haiku supply
have gone and passed by
avoided mire
his straits (straights) did become dire
term would expire
what we did with feet
have been member of elite
God will meet and greet
truth failed to provide
they always have lied and lied
felt guilty inside
Pettiness,
It comes from the French (petite)
Petite means small
Anything compact and neat,
Can be classed as slight,
Small of no significance,
Small-minded people might
Be blind-sighted by their magnificence,
And fail to comprehend
Or defend the importance,
Of the word petite,
And feel a need to compete
To prove a point that immense
It makes more sense,
To think and act big.
Pettiness
Has no place in society,
It breeds impropriety.
It makes people gruff,
So let us all blow a big puff
To rid ourselves of,
The unnecessary small stuff!
Fig Leaf
“While the fig leaf traditionally covers naked shame
The fig leaf also makes a healing tea of restoration” Quote by poet.
Ducking beneath a quilt woven of the fig leaf
To sip upon a homemade brew of fig leaf tea
That soothes the inflammation
Of my humiliation to enhance
The concentrated healing of my intentions
For my unmasked vulnerability –
The exposed private parts of my simpering heart
To apply an antibiotic poultice
That eliminates toxic gaffs of conscience -
Slips of the lazy tongue,
Thoughtless raging fevers of impropriety –
To strengthen bones of humility
This poor man’s olive branch
That unclogs charity’s lifeblood
Increases flow with overflow
In warm generosity
Eliminating tactless bacteria
Reducing the temperature of shame
To recline again in sweet gardens
Of compatibility at the twilight.
4-1-22
Contest: This or That
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title Chosen: Fig Leaf
The fig leaf is used to make tea with amazing antibiotic, anti-bacterial, anti-inflammatory, fever reducing, healing properties among many other positive properties.
Nigerians’ most feared President
And possible Hell-fire President
But rather My Bad Friend
I had to mourn his ***** end
For the Cameroonian Presence in Bakassi
He beautifully dismissed as a heresy:
A subject of panicking intricacy
On his dining table chewable delicacy…
Save that his sit- tight anxiety
Was the damnedest Impropriety?
The Masses’ wish for democracy breath- choking
The masses ready for it, flatly joking!
Prepared was he for thuggery all day
The worst of Buggery all the way
Himself proving Ogonis’ determined tormentor
With jammed ears for the emasculating mentor:
Morning and Night caressing a reverie
A lot like a harlot’s a final Nunnery…
The late Immovable Abacha
Was to prove a mi ting Archer.
Stranger than strange
Something’s wrong.
They try to rearrange,
By moving me along.
Join society,
Step in line.
Refrain from impropriety,
Follow the sign.
Like a puppet on a string,
Aware but controlled,
On the threads that I cling,
Going once, twice then sold.
As if in auction,
Or just the roll of a dice,
Sold with caution,
My name was a price.
His name is obviously fake
So he inoculates himself from me
He's waiting for my first mistake
So I'll wait also but more patiently
A Gentleman made his reservation in Heaven
Who had donated millions to Charity
Stood up to Bigotry and Oppression
Fought for Justice unrelentingly
As fine a man as ever you'd meet
No smidgen of impropriety --
Though behind closed doors
He'd routinely mistreat
The members of his family
The angelic tribunal examined his deeds
And found them shockingly lacking
Thanks to an amicus brief that God chose to read
~ Wherein his wife and children sent him packing
Emerging from sleep dream temerity,
his remote aurora spectral prisms
from which his wakefulness gives legerity,
from which surfaces new burgeoning aphorisms.
Truth’s contours arrayed in fluid fluency,
his morning ataraxia in the still water lake
from where his senses lose their truancy,
from where ideation sheds the opaque.
He finds repose in a moment's seclusion,
his lucid cortex in reflective possibility,
but he learns his real confirmation in inclusion,
and learns our fellowship best protects our fragility.
So quickly we imbrute each other with walls,
he knows how militarization is summoned by anxiety,
he weeps at the endless requiem protocols,
he grieves at history’s long cruel impropriety.
But he detects his promise in human need,
our struggle against forces of dehumanization,
our commission in communitarian creed,
our hope in human family realization.
Awarded second place in Poetrysoup "Grace and Solitude" rhyming poetry contest sponsored by John Hamilton.
I have known the temptation
of a train of impure thought,
and the tranquillity of virtue
that can’t be with lucre bought.
I’ve coveted riches not mine
with the stealth of impropriety,
and rejoiced in the righteousness
of a random act of charity.
I hide the stains of offenses
which the Ganges cannot rinse,
I’ve tasted the milk of goodness
and sniffed a potpourri of sins.
Plucky, we see the pond
With dervish eyes we bond
Dive in the great beyond
And ooh la la
He thinks she’s quite a dish
Handsome’s her one true wish
Into the sheets they swish
With great oompah
Like thrashing out of sea
Steamy fish feel so free
As who they’re meant to be
Waves wild hoopla
Of two young shades of gray
Whipped up, the seas obey
Oui! Oui! Risqué-parlez*
Midlife’s booya!
The calming of the deep
Married love never cheap
Embraced hearts fall asleep
After hoo-ha
3/15/2018
Mick Talbot’s Violette Poetry Contest
*What’s love without a little French ;)
Pronounced: wee wee risk-ay par-lay
Oui - Yes
Risqué - verging on impropriety or indecency (bedroom banter)
Parlez - Speak
Booya - urban dictionary: hell, yeah
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