Long Attach to Poems
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Empty guts come crawling around the town looking for where destiny is bound. They have nothing in their heart to give and thousands of holes in their hands to fill. They come in different shapes and size with an appetite that is larger than sea, they prowl around the street bringing the enemies to their knee.
Empty guts come banging on your door; empty guts come asking for more, they appear out of the blue messing with the code that protects me and you. They are walking all over the bed and you have to keep still and pretend to be dead. The Pentagon must intervene to remove these vagrants off the screen. They create fake websites and attach to the main source and lure the vulnerable visitors that prowl upon the shore be careful of who you let through your door.
You must appoint a Cyberweb team to pull down their website from the screen and block their operation on the web and seal up their communication ports that attracts the “dead". they come under different names and their goal is to exhaust you and prevent your dreams from coming through.
Empty guts walking down the road in a bubble looking for daylight trouble. They pitch their tents next-door with a whistle and a gun and have the multitude on the run. They lurk around the town all night with a dollar a date and a dime, looking for somewhere to spread their bed and fireplace to warm their legs.
Who appoint them I don’t know, they are going around and “cutting everybody’s throat”, if you allow this thing to get out of hand, it will keep you dancing around the land; you must be careful of who you allow to cross your path, be careful of who you go out with after dark.
There must be some regulations for the heathen walking in the heavens and those walking in the clouds must be booted out of the house when they come on land, they march through the street like a thunder bolt getting ready to turn over all the big boats. You must do a sweep clean to overturn their promiscuous dream and devious action.
Some people will not survive it because they are not physically fit, leave the obscure alone and send the empty guts marching out of the town.
In the brackish water of a tideland flat
A delicious creature grows up and gets fat
Louisiana Brown shrimp is its name
Their excellent flavor has brought them fame
They call them Brownies and they’re caught by net
My first time shrimping, I’ll never forget
My friend Remy was of Cajun decent
And he was my mentor for this event
Sportsman’s Shrimping License, you need to get
That allows using a sixteen foot net
Took Remy’s fourteen foot flat bottomed boat
And his shrimping gear, nothing else of note
We checked out the net as we headed south
Exactly sixteen foot wide at the mouth
Where spreader boards attach to keep it wide
The purse at the bottom is neatly tied
Shrimping in the tide water flats that day
About one half hour we dragged that sleigh
Remy said, “Now be time to check da purse”
No shrimp, no crabs, just junk; couldn’t be worse
“Don’t worry Ami”, Remy said to me
“Things be good when da tide changes, you’ll see”
“ I gonna show to you my secret spot”
“You gonna see shrimping when it be hot”
Remy motored around till I was lost
He’ll get us back out, had my fingers crossed
He made sure I couldn’t find my way back
He should have just put my head in a sack
Then I said, “Remy, stop running around!”
I’ll never find you secret shrimping ground"
With a big Cajun grin from ear to ear
“Be no more running Ami, we be here”
The tide was just starting to go out fast
Spots that were water were becoming grass
With the boat in the mouth of the deepest cut
“Get da net out now, don’t sit on da butt”
The motor was set so we stayed in place
Then easy to see what was Remy’s ace
The shrimp that were carried out by the tide
Went in the net, there was no way to hide
Looked back at Remy and he smiled at me
“This be da shrimping, what you come to see”
We just sat and talked as shrimp filled the purse
The net was so full it would almost burst
We kept catching shrimp till the tide slowed down
Then stowed all the gear and headed to town
Never saw shrimping that could equal that
Too my friend Remy, I take off my hat!
Some say “it’s better to have love and lost than never love at all”
They also say “if it was meant to be it will come right back to you”
I say “love is the enemy the silent destroyer and not to be underestimated”
It is the ruler of your brain and the master of your heart
Anything lost should remain lost; if its possession was of any worth it would
not be neglected
Nothing is meant to be if it was not carved in stone, our future is mold by our
choices.
Never get emotionally attach to anything /any one you cannot see yourself
without.
For life is a journey and understanding should not compliment doubt.
Some say “never to burn your bridges behind you”
They also say “you cannot know the future without knowing your past”
I say “knowing your history is one thing but the future still remains a mystery.
Some bridges are made to be burned while some weren’t strong enough to
last
Not everyone that gives a helping hand has a good intention
Your friend could be as close as your brother but behind his aid manifest
deception
“No man is an island and no man stands alone”, I remember this well.
Who made this phrase up, what do they mean and on what aspect? Please do
tell.
Unity is strength I know this to be true and still what was made a whole can be
broken in two
I say “anything you can’t do by your self leave it alone and be very careful not
to make ones burden your own.
Some say “the youths have no hope for the future”
Yet what hope does the future provide for the youths?
And what’s the sense of being direct if it’s not all the truth?
Also what good is an opinion now if you chose to be mute?
I say “youths make use of your prime”
And ensure that you’re being paid for your time.
Never expect people to tell you the truth,
It would be a bonus if they do
People will say what they want also do what they want
So I say, time is money so when you talk be quick
And when you come with your ideology or your tricks
Come prepared for a conflict
August 25th, 2019 playing round of bouncy bouncy broke bed
Just before stroke o' midnight
slated date above zee wife,
i.e. the missus, aboot
same width and height
(quite an oompa loompa),
she presented quite
oh...somewhat garrulous,
hilarious, illustrious...sight,
what with her
swelled up Betelgeuse orange
flesh somewhat sunkist bright
strove to bounce this light
resting, loafing, humming
like mister kite,
who always takes nap before sleep
got unstrung with minor fright
when both of us suddenly heard "thud,"
and driver side regarding single bunk
slumped noticeably lower, which excite
meant elicited presenting reedsy challenge,
and strategizing avoid rolling on floor,
a humorous lock horned dilemma plight,
she analogous to human meteorite
precariously propped, positioned, perched
courtesy eldest daughter,
who gave ample pillows fortnight
prior to relocating to San Francisco,
California, a stellar future
"star student" sought to ignite
where struggling dirt poor
mama and papa squeezed, pinched
jinxed financially tight
scrambling to remain homeless
which dire circumstance... right,
would immediately curtail
ample leisure time to write.
Out of necessity, we could live
in 2009 Hyundai Sonata until cold
temperatures idle forced us to hold
each other, this despite
my tendency to twitch, a told
foregone conclusion spelling misery
especially if the snoring mold
did doughy wife additionally
prone to scold
and get snappy if unable to affix
CPAP contraption told
to attach to face when lying down
to alleviate sleep Apnea
a common malady bold
forthright primary care physician
stated excess weight major
contributing factor never foretold
back in the day when spouse
light as feather, and yet
contradictory cuz each fold
of adipose tissue
increases her cost when
measured against gold.
Ain't it strange...
That I attach to you...like a troublesome sore
Do you find it odd...
That I truly love you to the core
But it's true...I can get a little insane at times...when I'm in a certain phase
Sorry to say, but get used to my crazy, psychotic nature...or leave me to rot...
But it ain't no surprise that we all aren't normal and we all are peculiar in our own bizarre ways
Sorry to burst your bubble, but haha, yeah...I've been causing mischief and what not
You untied me from my utter demise...
And you drowned away my thoughts that spread lies
In my head...making it spin madly
Like a Mary-go-round...
But it's true...I can get a little insane at times...when I'm in a certain phase
Sorry to say, but get used to my crazy, psychotic nature...or leave me to spoil and rot....
Don't be afraid, baby
It's only in your mind...
Anxiety is brewing in your blood
And I can't seem to hold on to the rope of hope
But it ain't no surprise that we all aren't normal and we all are peculiar in our own bizarre ways
Sorry to burst your bubble, but haha, yeah...I've been causing trouble and what not
Time is ticking like a bomb about to blow up into smoke and flame
It alarms to say this, but how DARE you waste my valuable time
Time is ringing like a church bell chime...it's your time to say goodbye and it's my time to forget your name
It's alarming to hear broken records of memory replay in my head...it's almost crime
Thinking of you is wonderful and sublime
But it's true...I can get a little insane at times...when I'm in a certain phase
Sorry to say, but get used to my crazy, psychotic nature...or untie me from this tight knot
You made the decision to untie me from my utter demise...
And you drowned away my thoughts that spread lies
In my head...making it spin madly
Like a Mary-go-round...
The Adjective Twin: A Poem of Pain
I am "presumptuous" -- and with my brother, "arrogant"
we are the adjective twin of "gentle" blame
of "gentle" wounding, of "gentle" continued "colonization"
constantly in an "unconscious" search for unsuspecting names to attach to,
so that we can remain collectively unconscious of our shadows.
We were born (and are constantly re-born)
from the culturally "unconscious" womb of (even "progressive") white privilege,
with the help of "pre-judgment" the midwife who abhors "decolonization."
And heed this warning: We do NOT like mirrors, because clear mirrors tell
(at an uncomfortable-making non-white-privileged "pace" of needed transformation)
the kind of "decolonization" truths that inconveniently bring to consciousness "well-intentioned" unconscious "Orientalisms,"
("Truths" that could potentially flourish into "Reconciliation" healing--IF allowed mirror-full-ness);
and these kinds of truth make my brother and I really (mostly "unconsciously") uncomfortable,
because we don't resonate with mirrors, with reflection,
'cause rather than truthfully being "set free"
we like to be comfortable in our privilege.
When we, the adjective twin attach ourselves to unsuspecting names
(who expect standards that befit real civility, real nonviolence, real caring)
Mother Earth's mirrors of tearful eyes break in 1,001 pieces of feel-goodist "progressive" self-deception,
that "gently" kill peace--on Earth.
Don't blame us, though,
(and definitely, but "gently" DO silence the wailing sirens of inconvenient awakening)
because we are the adjective twin,
and the "progressive" harm we cause is ever so "gentle" and "well-intentioned," you see?
By: Moji Agha (Mojtaba Aghamohammadi)
Monday, March 26, 2018
Boulder, Colorado
The knowledge that you gained
The money that you amassed
The fame that you won
Would be left behind
The body thinking of which you spend your life
The family for which you dedicated your life
The world which you gave more importance than self
Would be left behind
Everything is dynamic everything transient
Every second a new world born
Nothing is permanent everything dying
With death all left behind
Attached to temporary objects
Our self lost in serving them
When will we live for self?
Attached to fleeting thoughts
Swaying with them
Living in emotions, forgetting the moment
One day we disappear from the scene
That which remains is soul
Waiting for new skin
A new picture
Our good deeds remembered
But of no value to us
As soul we regret forgetting self
Based on karmas another birth
Endless cycle of mortal life
Regretting every time at death
Stupidity going on since eternity
Why not end this movie once for all
Think and live for soul
Liberate it through salvation
Use brains for something worthwhile
Reflect on your real goal in life
All scriptures state the same
All cannot be wrong at the same time
If you feel they are not right,
Is attachment to temporary things right?
Is having expectations from uncertain right?
Living for selfish humans who use you
Cry how they'll survive when you die
Not much enjoying
is this intelligent living?
Is this right?
Isn't world selfish? Isn't all transitory?
To be attached to mortal world
is it not stupidity?
Seek that which is immortal
Attach to it for eternal benefit
Serve it, please it, become immortal
24.07.2021
For Chantelle Anne Cooke, IMMORTALITY YES OR NO
It seems to me I have two types of dreams as through my life I stroll…
The first are the dreams I make…over which I have a modicum of control.
Dreams I work on every day…dreams that never stop….
Dreams of being a good person, a good teacher, a good husband, father and Pop-Pop.
Dreams that make me smile as I fall asleep…when another day is through…
knowing I did my part in making those dreams come true.
But there are a second set of dreams I dream…as through my life I stroll…
Dreams that no matter what I say or do…are out of my control.
Dreams I’m forced to leave to Fate…and when another day is through…
dreams that no matter how hard I dream…may…or may not…come true.
Global dreams of peace throughout the world…in every country…every state…
Dreams that another person need not die at the hands of anger, prejudice…or hate.
Dreams that are more personal…dreams I’d like to see…
come true for the people in my life…the ones who are closest to me.
The dreams within my heart that in a quiet room I keep…
dreams I whisper to myself…before I fall asleep.
The dreams I put into a prayer…or save is a wishing jar…
Dreams I make on a dandelion…or attach to a shooting star.
Dreams whispered when I cross my fingers…the kind of dreams I make…
at a wishing well, when a ladybug lands on me…or while blowing out the candles on my cake.
Yes, some dreams I am happy to control and smile contentedly when the day is through..
for all the others I’ll make a wish on anything to help make those dreams come true.
And when I am blessed to wake up…each of my days follows a similar theme….
It’s another day to control what I can…and another day to dream
When you find the truth it cannot be broken
belonging to the sacred word it remains unspoken
as mind and body attach to it and become as one
recognize then your journey ahead will have begun
Reason and logic to one another they belong
necessarily maintaining distance from the norm
truth will forever be that one guiding light
subduing everything false under its might
If the truth is what you seek, you must first prepare
challenges you will face, and dangers to beware
if you resign yourself to accept that which is right
know for your very life, for this alone do you fight
With the existence of evil in this world, have we been surrounded
yet, our ability to choose good over evil, is a truth well founded
the power to achieve our internal peace, lies in our very hands
no escaping this obligation, to pursue truth is what He commands
A person's true essence, is only his soul from within
his body must remain, after sullied from a lifetime of sin
before us are many paths in this world, good, bad, life and death
our goals are the same, to choose life before that final breath
As our souls begin to soar, many awaiting our heavenly trial
taken from us now, freewill to change that lifetime of denial
this light of truth while alive, we still could have acquired
what remains for us to correct, now that we have expired
What words can be said, and what tears will be left to shed
having lived that life, sadly, so void of truth, as one dead
last opportunities do not squander, eternal life is within reach
but first you have to be willing to change, to your heart beseech
Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the realist of them all? Everyone is on the check, mind my constant observers, like guards on duty, Shadows spying upon my every arrival, whispers behind every street wall, I passby, catching glimpse of dying echoes of the last letters of my name...
Before my eyes showers of smiles I see. Everywhere , in my ears soundwaves intransit, laughters cracking the sun, so wish I had eyes on my back, work of my two-faced friends and families like artistic masterpieces of curses and scheming, painted with my every back turning, I'd be wealthy if exhibited their work on my back, to the world...
Wonder who their make-up artist is, such a wonder he does to their faces, disguises they put on, sure they deserve an Oscar...
Thought masqueraders and clowns wore costumes, but no, the ones on my stage of life dresses smiles and laughters, only if God revealed their thoughts and hearts whenever they smile before my face, I'd undress their make-up, for the world to see their venom and sharpness of their hearts...
Loyalty, loyalty! What meaning to attach to you? when everyone now has their own version. The world crawls underneath my grind, serpents are the only realist. Was there an error in Gods creation? Sure you'd be obliged to ask. Earth devour me not this early, at least allow me a sitting into my foes repenting scene, then my soul shall find itself directions to peace, for reality has failed my living days...
Who shall carry my casket to my grave? At least I deserve some fairness in my burial, is that much to ask?
#Poetic_Ink