Taxed To Death
Yes, we are all exhausted
And yes, we are all taxed to death
Money vanishes without a trace
Cost of living these days are insane
Too many burdens to carry
Frustrated to the brink
With no room to breath
Taxes to pay for our freedom
Money can ruin a marriage
Life is draining the middle class
Just to keep your head above water
Bills are never ending
Our government indulges in consistent spending
Just eat beans and rice
Don’t have a choice
Anchored down to the almighty dollar
Money torrent like water
Just walk off the cliff
Knee deep in blood
Frigid temperatures filled the square
Rigid opponents chilled the air
Deriding him a radical socialist
Unbridling the race to get him off a ballot list
The city was arm in arm, in protest daily
Whites, Blacks, Arab and Israeli
and what came up to all’s surprise
Mayor elect—Mamdani’s rise
Along came the 112th Mayor elect
Strong spent are the people who'd select
Lines stretched around doters
Awaiting hours were his voters
Indulges in a city reborn it’s bagels and lox
Sworn in over the subway station docks
Hand upon Islam’s holy text
A marvel of a man who’ll govern next
Swearing words of conviction and not of pity
I swear, to bolster and defend this dynamic city
Mayor Mamdani
promises New York City ~
a hopeful journey
New Year's Day
1/1/26
The sting
Will never
Completely go away
But I smile
At the thought
Of your happiness
I hope
You kiss
her forehead
With a whispered “I love you”
Before her alarm
Stomps across the hardwood floor
I hope you
Leave a cute note for her
On the fridge
With the silly nickname
She gave you
When you first met
I hope
You
Surprise her
When that time comes
And you end up
With blue paint all over your clothes
And she cries
Standing in the doorway
As she sees her old crib in the corner
Feeling
This burst of happiness
She has never known before
Staring at the ceiling every night
Toying with the idea
Of you and forever
Falling into
The seamless
Blend of routines
Like
It was
Just meant to click
When she
Used to dramatically vocalize
How trivial love was
How unnerving
The sound
of heartbreak was
But I hope
She indulges in the knowing
Her heart is safe with you
Great minds gather, ponder on the poem,
The mean and mode focus on form and frame,
Rhyme and refrain,
How, why and when,
All things verging on vain
Belonging but to brain,
Whilst smaller minds muddle on who wrote them.
Only but men of heart
Transcend the tricks of art,
The discreet close eyes, enjoy it as came.
_______________________________
Limerick | 06.10.2025 | art, heart, poem
Note: As to why, a poem heads from heart. And heart cares not on reasons that head indulges in.
Tingly skies full of surprise oh how I love when with surmise,
the little rascal aims his dart as if it were, poetic art !
But as time passes. Cupid indulges
In drinking spiced nectar
He must improve his aim.
How many arrows does he fire,
Speeding into the hearts of random humans,
Trying to make them love?
And what does he get in return?
Does any lovely wench flutter her eyelids?
And give him that come hither smile?
Life can be very cruel!
Now less wise and dejected, his arrows blunt,
He aims at random and sends ripples
Of love among the young, who
Ape his image on romantic cards,
Full of red roses, and equally crimson hearts,
With lovers kissing, or cuddling bears,
Eyes starry and glazed, and poetry sweet,
And borders of vine leaves that entwine
And call his feast "Happy St Valentine".
Once Cupid hit me in my ear and I fell madly in love
With a beautiful shapely nymph.
When cupid's arrow aims for you,
there isn't much that you can do!
Placed 1
Our shape shifting soul indulges in dreams
though it has no cause, being bliss replete,
so as we are washed away in thought streams,
distanced from source, we then feel incomplete,
until we choose to bend low at God’s feet.
At all times cognisant of our soul’s light,
we stand erect; a luminous star bright.
The happiest time of a person
Is to find the right person
He spoils you
He indulges your habits
He gives good advices
And love everything about you.
If you look in the corners,
You'll find her sitting there.
Muttering in a tone softer,
That she is nothing but a mere.
With her head inside the book,
She indulges herself in an imaginery world.
Where things are exactly the same as they look,
Instead of the promises which are actually curled.
As she dives deeper, begin to find the peace within,
Forgets about the grief and isolation, and feels the joy in her skin.
Reality is different,
From the world she went in.
Filled with loss and loneliness,
Unlike the abundance of love she felt therein.
-laxika
"An angel in the sky, so divine and bright
So bright that it directly indulges to my soul
Filling me with peace, making my heart intact
Making me cry as my soul is ravished
Tears of joy and wonder, streaming down my face
Drop which dost purify the world for good
Flood of belief
Flood of good times
Flood of purity
People may cry of happiness
Refrain that cannot be destroyed
A symphony of souls, indomitably shining on
Shining on as long as people can see
And its light will guide them, through eternity
And forever"
I am out now dangling
But you leave me hanging
Holding on to nothing
Wishing to hold on to you
Wanting and awaiting
Your touch once more
Your absence has been
Too long for my taking
I am out now
It is me I would
Like to give to you
Not just some small fragment
Of my being essential only to the
Level of your selfish indulges
I am out now
Take hold of me and penetrate my mind
Subdue my body with the raptures
Of yesterday's forgotten dreams
Persuade me with the sweet nothings
Caress me with empty promises
You dare to whisper in my ear
Lift my soul with the truth of
Your lies that you want me to believe
As you knew it to be
When we became as one
Give to me all of you
If just for one more night
And if perchance
We shall meet in the sun
Let only our smile tell
For whom, we all have seen the earth's light,
He is Father;who has made our life so bright.
For him only we can spend our life comfortably
And he is the one,who carries all burden silently.
The person is father,who indulges our all caprices;
And tries to keep wholeheartedly his promises.
After seeing father, a little child prances like a colt
Father is the one who corrects our fault.
Bearing with all troubles, he protects his family,
Only he knows very well the agony.
Father is the person who never wants to see our dismay,
So let us celebrate together the "Father's Day"
A client kingdom
So here we are a day older and yet learning more
who would have thought the blowing up of the North Stream 2 helped by the Norwegian navy?'
Few knew this annal little country had the capability
the technical know-how to help in this
dastardly conduct.
This little country up North with deep fjords and
reindeer, snow, the tourist industry, and waterfalls
who has gone woke, electric cars and solar panels
This little country that thinks of going the whole
hog and doing away with money could do this
this little country that sells oil and gas for export
to fund their green policy at home
does not appear to understand how despicable
it has become, blinded as it is by its wealth
When you realize that the country is an extension
of the USA always ready to do its bidding
then it becomes clear Norway is a client state
that indulged to play a self indulges play
about the environment naively saving the planet
as long as it is at beck and call when needed
to do some dastardly work.
The truth of who you are
will bring you to the truth of who you can be
The truth is truly freeing
Sometimes a hard look at how you feel
Will tell you exactly what is real
Your rational mind cannot do it
instead, your heart and time to intuit
Taking the time to know who you are
Is the best gift you can give to yourself
It makes your connection to the world firm
It indulges you in living life on your terms
Who are you? Find out!
And when you know, shout it out!
Finding yourself - (C) Artimus Susan Manley 3/1/2001
Fruits Of War's Futility, Death And Destruction
As glittering spit falls upon hot rocks
rare gemstones melt into a frigid sea
ailing ships lay about three fallen docks
hummingbird chases a dozen honeybees
irreparable desert begs sullen sky
for some rain, as winged bats vacation
from the fiends that pursue asking the why
no trains dare stop at the new train station.
In rocky mountainous purple terrain
earth cries with billowy indifference
rattlesnake and mouse both cry out for rain
two red ants fight without interference.
An ocean vessel sails around the Horn
its ten guns aimed at both you and he
a mother doe gives up her first newborn
and with that Nature sprouts Sycamore tree.
As glittering spit falls upon hot rocks
ailing ships lay about three fallen docks
who cares that a great war is to be fought
with victims begging for peace to be sought?
Robert J. Lindley, rhyme
April 5th, 1972
Note ( A guy from our hometown was killed in the Vietnam war )
Teddy Talley. Sad and tragic..
War is an evil that mankind relishes and indulges in..
*Image of Royal Alberts by Antiques And Teacups.
Drinking a Cup of Tea
An outing drizzling visits two,
walking past a depot.
Dashing through the rain they withdrew,
in a dressed gazebo.
Fine Albert's Country Rose teacups,
set on top matching plates.
Buttered toast and biscuit warmups,
a quaint morning translates.
Orange pekoe redolent blends,
blissful sip indulges,
chews, nibbles, and napkin wipe trends,
engaging divulges.
Taste spirits chatter that transcends,
ere squall is forgotten,
decency trades a storm extends,
a spot of tea brought in.
2023 February 04
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