Long Bold faced Poems
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January 24th, 2023 Hair washing heralds huge happening
Hark….the herald angels sing, and twitter
for mass communication
mediums stop the presses
when I, a regular schlemiel
take shampoo to mine matted mass mop
(no less than once a week)
of straggly follicles, and commence
to dispense with the heady eco system
viz rare crop of flora and fauna
(some rank as endangered species)
rub and band together
to scratch envy of
flaky key neigh bring ponytails
and create quite an niche,
and where also can be found
lousy knit wit vendors ready to scalp
and give shaft to razor sharp purveyors,
who mane lee scout out available
head and shoulder room to nap
without a stir, tub bed down
(praying Holy Scott no wash out
nor Harris mint occurs),
or burrow vis a vis,
where subcutaneous porous droplet size
watership down pieces
of prime residence found
counting one mister comb lee
bald bold faced realtor
amidst competing rival
bulb buss Edward scissorhands
(with knot to heavy a price toupee)
affianced to rapunzel,
whom he sheared split ends
as her barber of civil,
one dapper dander ruff dude to offer
lice cent shuss insects a tonsured
cut above other stylish habitués
preferring to fraternize,
glad-hand, and hobnob
amidst a cluster of big wigs
housed by yours truly - Samson
in gleaming puffy pompadour
pads tightly secured
with the best dreadlocks,
which harum-scarum
green barrettes serve
as first line of rinse able defense
IdentityGuard (with franchisee
Bob O Link averse to split hairs, but fierce
as a Mohawk and ring leader
to protect any curl of mine)
waving away intruders,
who if insist tubby persistent
and tangle with fate
cannot expect camaraderie
from buzz cutting crew i.e. the fuzz
to give expletive filled lathering,
severe shame poo wing subjugation
plus an up braiding experience),
and teach stragglers
they will suffer
a real perm in hint bang up job
if they brazenly brush
against brylcreem of the crop
rooted as rightful heirs
(hairs) of tousled doo mane,
thus concludes my tail.
Postscript: Yours truly
an aging long haired
seventh generation pencil neck geek
finds ultra joy when
volunteering for kitchen duty,
hence imagine the hypothetical picture
portraying Geico caveman
mimicking pseudo dawn of humanity.
False promises and bold faced lies
From leaders we call men,
Too foolish, vain and unwise
It’s the election blues again.
Feign to believe the web they weave
With patient ears we listen,
Future balanced if they achieve
From deceitful eyes teeth glisten.
In principle, fate is our blame
Yet in our selfish pride,
Our judgment shadows woeful shame
Behind scapegoats fail to hide.
Ballot fiends they all may be
Watching poll numbers, plus or minus three,
What will their victory bring to me
After January twenty-three.
Subsidized youth sports, gun control
Child care dollars galore,
A policy a day, and truth be told
Campaign gifts are a chore.
What matters East-West-South ‘n North
Is that we get it right,
While opponents bicker back and forth
By cable, bus or flight.
Success depends on unity
Without it we’re a wreck,
While one side suffers mutiny
The Grits give Tories heck.
The separatist Bloc` says “Let us go”
Demanding sovereign freedom,
White margarine and one-tongued-signs
Does Canada really need them.
The answer is, quite simply, oui`
We cannot tear apart,
Instead, honor all with dignity
And make a brand new start.
While men debate with pointed fingers
On issues big or small,
Our neighbor’s fear of terror lingers
With plans to build a wall.
Five billion they shall not relinquish
While bring East to peace,
Infernal war fires ne’r extinguish
Diplomacy for lease.
Denying partnership in war
To Iraq we didn’t go,
And up in space where eagles soar
Again we said “Oh no”.
Canada is not the States
Their future is not ours,
While Bush comments on us, berates
His future quickly sours.
When we look back upon these days
In golden years of life,
Will mirrored lakes obscure with haze
Too thick for sharpened knife.
Or does the future hold great treasure
For Canadians, one and all,
With strength and courage beyond measure
Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall.
Like years before, each voter chooses
With hopes and dreams of change and glory,
But in the end there’s winners and losers
Different writer, same old story.
Scott Goldsberry
December 30, 2005
my grandmother’s name is Verna
some look at her and see section 8, welfare checks, abuse and neglect
they see insufficiency, ignorant independency, a trench-condemned wreck
no collegiate education, no high-school diploma, they see a lack of dedication
they look in my grandmother’s eyes and with the snap of their fingers subject her to poverty, they banish her to being a pawn in their monopoly
they gratuitously perpetuate their hate and generously project their mental state
and to this? my grandmother smiles, she says Ladybug, don’t worry about me, they don’t know
They don’t know that my grandmother has built diamonds of men in the rough
she has made roses of women out of concrete
mountains move at the sound of her step
she makes even what is long lost feel kept
her smile could make a fish breathe out of water
i could posses no humanly title more noble than her granddaughter
there is no greater honor that I am allowed
no duer justice of mine than to make her proud
my grandmother sculpted my spirit with calloused hands and a heart overflowing, imbuing me with a strength born not of privilege, but of fiercely earned knowing
they don’t know about the lullabies she’s sung through thin walls, how many time she’s picked me up from my falls, and more importantly how she doesn’t keep count
her motherhood, a tapestry woven with threads of sacrifice and strands of grace, a masterpiece unseen by eyes that only value pedigree and place
my grandmother has raised generations of excellence. don’t believe me? just open your eyes-you never met a woman so sagacious-so wise-so gracious-even with my words you couldn’t surmise
I’m talking about a charisma you wouldn’t believe, a resilience you couldn’t conceive, a wit you could never deceive, a love you wouldn’t know how to receive,
if i died and said I never knew unconditional love, I would be a bold-faced lie
i think my grandma would raise up out her grave and set the record straight with a fire burning in her eye
hell, call it blasphemy but I think my grandmother’s touch could make a blind man see
her soul breaking chains and setting lives free
my grandmother’s name is Verna
and if God was a woman on earth, then I’ve been a disciple since birth
Democrats are known for making things right, but republicans always lie about everything.
Everybody knows that the democratic party will run the republican party out of the U.S.
Congress and run all of its offices every day for the next 5,000 years. When it comes to politics,
the democrats are the only ones that will make real promises to fix everything, that
includes decreasing taxes, promising all of us job openings, fixing the economy,
supporting gay marriages, and that kind of stuff. But unfortunately for the republicans,
they can't make any promises to all of Americans like the democrats can. All of those
republicans will do is lie to, cheat, and steal from the U.S. citizens, that will have
included the African-American community. All republicans don't care about anyone or
anything but themselves. Republicans are evil, manipulative, arrogant, and completely selfish. The democrats,
just like President Barrack Obama, are kind, caring, warmhearted, and all of the other
nicer things that will have described the entire democratic party. We all don't think that
the governors who are republicans will run for President of the United States of America
in the near future, especially when they're planning on deporting all of us from our
original origins back to all foreign locations, that will have included Africa. And in the
year 2012 and beyond, we will not vote for any of those lame republicans, let alone Sarah Palin, Rick
Perry, or Donald Trump. The only person we will be voting for President of the United
States of America is Barrack Obama, who must remain President for the next 50 years.
That's why democrats are firm and honest and republicans are just bold-faced liars.
Republicans are full of baloney and the democratic party will take over. And if the
democrats win the elections and they were to stay in the offices for the rest of their
lives, this will be a great thing for all of us democrats. The democrats, as in the good
guys, will always win.
Last 2012 Friday
Sitting here
Friday night
Feeling so hopeful
Jazz horns blaring in my ear
Feeling light headed positively
Bartenura positively without a care
naive kind of silliness
Wanna jump up and start lindy hopping
Don’t know how to lindy hop
Ready to greet this New Year
Promising to fill each day
Constantly dwelling in Possibility
Conquering what may come head on
Thankful always for the opportunity to proceed
Packaged gifts unwrapped with glee
Inside layered with the things most desired
Love, love, love and more love
As I enjoy the ride in this journey of life
I’ll disperse these gifts
unable and unwilling
to meet with negativity
at any juncture
Its all good
Its all God
As we make these life decisions
Resulting in life consequences
Jujitsu-ing pessimism
Jazz horns blaring
Swivel ribbons dancing erotically
Over head
Neck swaying
Head grooving
As I type prose and poetry
Loving the way this life has been packaged
Not so pretty
Unlaced in designer paper
Un-bowed un-name branded
Perfectly wrapped for me
Shinning with an accepting kind of love
enjoyed in pure form
I’m some kind of crazy lady
I smile
I’m fine with that
Jazz horns blowing
A rhythmic rippling through my head
Seeing past that outside shell
Straight inner core
inhaling
bold faced grinning
at the truth in underlying beauty
That true beauty
Un-Skin depth-ed
un-shallow-ed
Exhaled
I’ve had enough of you
Jazz horns blaring
Dancing trumpeters heel toe-ing
Through and out of existence
I have no boundaries
I am the air
Lightly above you
I am the earth
Strong beneath your feet
I am the sparkling city that embraces the ebony of your sky
Diamond Concrete
I am a bold faced lie
I am a dose of lung deflating truth
A punch to the chest and you can still taste me on your lips
Gone like the wind through your fingertips
I am the silk in your sheets
Drenched with sweat
Between slit ice and lonely midnight hours
Catch this Fire
In your Eyes
One Time, and you will realize
I am the reason why you need to catch your breath
I am a beautiful thrill seeking siren that haunts your dreams
I am the girl next door who smiles at you through the cracks in the fence
I am not a trophy wife
I am not your pedestal warming doll
I am what I am
That is
Essentially
I have no boundaries
Sleek and Dangerous
Viper, Delilah
Va Va Va Voom
Curvy
Wild and untamable as the Sea
Calm and tranquil like the leaves
Falling down in vivid red, orange and brown
Chocolate like the deepest slanted eyes
In my porcelain face
I am a heavy hitter
Slang spittin’ Mamacita
Rough Rider
I am a delicate lotus with a dainty laugh
Double header Desert Fire
Thunder
I’m not afraid to break a sweat
I am your Queen
I am your Pauper
I am your Hardcore
Eye of the Tiger
I am your Rebel
I am your Revolution
That is Essentially
What I am
A Shakespearean air fills the night. The less caring of the soft love climbs the stairs to greet the angels above. Believing in acute sensation derived from her rained down love. A self-made beauty sets passionate roses around the lonely. Only to receive sharp gazes and cursed to constantly think of. Her agile walk comes straight for me only.
Who is this centerfold from the night’s sky? If I were to have told you how she looked you would say it was a bold faced lie. This was a 10 who has made many men cry. Secrets are made from her sweat breeze. Mesmerized by her essence that gives of a never ending blessing. This must be my love who has my heart locked in a freeze. This can never cease I ask myself please.
Weeks pass by as every other women’s face seems to resemble her grace. If you could only give way to her touch, her taste. You would believe everything before was a waste. She will put any man’s heart off to the races. A guardian of all that is lovely faces. Miss Benet Miss Benet full of sun ray the Gods must have made you with a beautiful bouquet. She shines down upon me, as I start to pray! Let this beauty stay as she is full of worldly pleasures each and every day.
The only thing I hate more than unintelligence
Is a bold-faced liar that thinks they blend amongst friends
Using weakenesses as weapons falsely condescending contention
Crashing house of cards paper tiger denys a correction
Even knowing that they face something beyond profound
This game they play only works on what is gained and not found
So when real life hits it leaves them with a lie to undo
But I saw you even though it ceased I just can't let it be true
Nothing personal but you deny that we are both foes
In battle fought with intellect you can't deny I won't lose
And this certainty it scares you to the core you recluse
Like a coward you back out acting as if nothing ensued
But we both know your true face lacks a backbone to stand it
And that something is why I prevail locking door sealing in madness
Coping mechanism feeds demons that just hand over rope
Slithered navigating life upon fissure ridden slippery slope
Had it coming you just didn't know it came with account
Now you're seeing and believing left without not a doubt
A new victim,
cast your eyes on your prey,
A lesson to learn,
tomorrow is a new day.
I'm taking back,
the things you stole,
My life, my mind,
my heart of gold.
My heart is broken,
my head won't let this be,
The demons of love,
call out and torture me.
As I lie awake,
in this empty bed,
My mind plays over,
the wickedness of your web.
I have heard that love,
should be easy, a simple thing,
Instead, it bites, cries,
bleeds and stings.
My whole being,
all twisted up in pain,
I can feel your betrayal,
pumping in my veins.
You fed me with lies,
and some affection,
Every move,
you set me up for the rejection.
I had to rise up,
from the ashes and fire,
Another heart broken,
by a bold-faced liar.
You made love,
look so damn easy,
I had no idea,
you were at work being sleazy.
I know the wheel,
continues to turn,
Another life lesson,
you live and you learn.
TURBO1904
I can't save you. I was never meant to. Even though this path of mine is irrevocably twisted within yours, if so you drown, from the wayside I'll be forced to witness you fall the entire way down. How many portraits must be laid before eyes that just refuse to see a thousand words blatantly spelling of the errors that breed your ever present terrors.. If history wasn't keen on telling us that it told us so, the things we pretend to ignore would be the culmination of everything we always wanted to know..
There he is, that boy always covered in the dust of another goodbye. I've pleaded, screamed and bargained.. I've taken the blame, only to turn and find you've done the same, as if your validation comes from the shame. Toil with fruitless labor, exhaust yourself with an endless game.
The difference between you and I, it can be found bold faced and drenched in sympathy.. Subtle in every way save one.. The red paint stains your palms and covers all you've done..