Long Checking Poems
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Little Miss Poet, Sat at her computer, typing the morning away.
Along came a spider, climbed down her screen, and frightened Miss Poet away.
Little Miss Poet, fell on her duff, as she tripped, backwards over the dog.
When she got up, the spider was smart, and ran into the keyboard.
Low and behold, the fly swatter wouldn’t work, for the spider was safely below.
The spider peaked out, eyeing her as if in a huff, as Miss Poet jumped up and down.
With murderous intent, she flipped over the keyboard, and bounced it up and down.
Just at this point, the spider jumped out and scurried, with his life in his hands.
But the damage was done, the keyboard was unplugged, and terror reigned again.
Little Miss Poet, would have to crawl under the desk, to where the wires began.
There was no doubt, she’d switch to wireless now, but here that was a mute point.
She knew the spider was there, but hidden somewhere, in the stuff on top of her desk.
Little Miss Poet, crawled under the desk, checking and fixing, every wire and plug.
When she came out, there was no spider about, so both relief and worry set in.
As Little Miss Poet, looked down and around, the spider appeared on her arm.
With a scream and a jump, she flicked him off, and tripped over her chair this time.
Unfortunately for this one, the problem wasn’t done, so she attacked jumping forth.
The spider jumped free, but her toe was in need, as her foot connected with the desk.
A few words were uttered, as she jumped around, with foot held high in the air.
Broken toe or not, she vowed to get that snot, so she shouted for her hubby’s help.
He was down stairs, with the trolls you know, and couldn’t seem to come up.
So she swatted with flair, as the spider jumped back, yes, into the keyboard.
At that moment, a Troll walked by with a club , and decided to help her out.
Everything smashed, the problem solved, she sat down at her sons’ computer spot.
Tears in her eyes, at her computers demise, Poor Little Miss Poet, began to write.
This computer was next, to the one from before, and the spider was there, again!
Yep, you guessed, in the keyboard he sat, staring and more pissed than ever before.
The moral my friend, is that you can’t always win, even on a peaceful, beautiful morn.
Little Miss Poet, finally limped away, retreat was the better answer, by far.
PS. This happened, without the Troll, of course.
Accursed human species
case in point Vladimir Putin,
who strikes terror across globe.
Don't underestimate his hell bent
zeal to attack United States,
one blood sucking infernal
predacious *****sapien
mercilessly bullies, interrogates,
threatens... with zeal.
Considerably less mortifying
constitutes wrathful ordeals
exhibited by adults who treat
thine wife with indecorous jibes
like punks who sat back of bus
or classmates at Methacton
High School, mine alma mater.
No different than typical mean kids
many crotchety residents here
Highland Manor Apartments
majority residents aggrieve the missus
though said counterpart (thee spouse)
exudes standoffish poise
countenance dons and
nonverbally trumpets scowl
body language broadcasts
social graces be damned
easily interpreted as snub
engendering hostile imprecations
cruelly fiendish provocations
undermine capacity to experience
peace of mind
exacerbated by her
figurative cold shoulder
propensity to flip the bird
notched, ratcheted, torqued... tension
courtesy miss prissy heiress,
daughter, she secured management role
albeit (hats off) to nepotism
guarantees lifelong job security
issued thee missus warning
rental stipulation disallows
overt middle finger flashing signal
emotional entanglement ensued
yours truly tasked
to pursue more favorable environment,
yet scant finances (mine)
and poor credit
two strikes against
locating affordable living situation
since sole family income
social security disability
direct deposited monthly
buzzfeeding checking account
regularly near anorexic,
cuz additionally I pay
costs of living expenses
cole king avoiding being homeless,
thus this penniless
among dime a dozen
day late dollar short
low income bracketed
(marching with madness)
mister casts quandary
couched as poetry,
no great expectations,
nonetheless cathartic to communicate
(hoop fully understandable)
present tense plight
projected as plotted trend
fat and/or slim chance
fate will curse me as lottery winner
pipe dream teasing
this word plumber flush with ire,
who feels nsync and drained
scraping hand to mouth
bemoaning apathy, dismal
effort, gross indifference
toward self sums (mein kampf)
plus academic struggles
proffers grim forecast
as coxswain at mercy
rudderless ship of state
edges closer to his waterloo.
Strangely, the world – strange
Has transformed from graceful,
With stardust laughing across the plains,
Sunlight silences the darkness, the night
Falling beneath the shadows of light…
As I lift my eyes to see the alterations,
Changes that speak to my spirit,
Stirring up the silence, lifting the ability
To reach out in anticipation, for the wonders
The amazing – bravely coloring the earth
In spectacular shades of joy so worthy
Fluctuating between silence and sound,
The inspirations imagine a softness, gentling
Hearts, trembling through the spirit in waves
Passing through the seas of memory, the past
Warms my faith and reminds me to listen
To the abiding truth, the ancient – forgotten
Among the memories of my youth, my life…
Before the new – before I knew paved roads,
Skyscrapers – cars who break through my dreams,
Singing of places I’d never imagined or believed
I might see – because in my past, where I lived when
There were horses everywhere, dusty roads,
Fighting with swords and fists, never expecting
The police to carry away the problems in shackles
Yonder, where there once stood a barn – a fence
A cow and a sheep, the horses in the pasture…
There stands a building, a sidewalk or some car
And, everywhere I look… there are people checking
The little boxes they’re carrying, taking chances
Never looking beyond their hands where the mysterious
Little boxes appear to be the reasons for their attentions
To be drawn away from others, into the mightier lands…
The lands of mobile dreams, ideas that seem to bleed
Through the impossible cells where they believe
Others can read all their feelings, their thoughts, their
Opinions… alive inside the little boxes they carry everywhere,
Revealing the wonders of the future that has come to us,
The ones who once knew freedom in living with the natural world
And, finally, discovered – here in the present, a life that will
Silence the past with its slow moving theories, lighting today
With the stars, twinkling in a sky that still has not changed
Despite the transformation of the entire earth, - the natural
World erases every doubt, each cloud, that dims the candle
Lighting up the past’s memoirs of what once was so normal
Shakespeare in 2023 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
January 12, 2023
In the beginning ...," roosts;
Christians and Jewish boosts.
Hubs stretched out their ellipsed
rung, un-Earth cures eclipsed
space; science clues darkling,
emerging as sparkling.
Up and down, primordial
chains--retards cordial.
Time slot checking briefly
when brain cells claim chiefly.
Focused an analyst
review a panelist,
truth and not devious;
now, post-, and previous.
Be of good health, nourish,
mindful, and to flourish
together ... we harness
our outreached true farness.
Constants are the scatheful,
equaled by the faithful ...
life marks trails that puncture
time cross-over juncture.
Naysayers, "That's crackpot!"
Truth smiles at the jackpot
as hopes, a bit mournful
of those fiercely scornful
Truth be told--mortified,
unseat those fortified,
advent-relegating
actions delegating,
doting are distinguished
evil hailed extinguished,
sage passage dutiful,
heart imparts beautiful.
Gauging your fealty
accents self-realty ...
descension diminished;
exalted goals finished.
Daily scriptures strengthen,
understanding lengthen
all regenerated
by the venerated.
A righteous behavior,
prophets teach, a savior ...
of a lost lamb was--not,
for The Shepherd does--not,
hence, Heaven will cherish,
hell reroutes won't perish,
reborn renews brilliance,
transforming resilience.
Remember...Remain Calm, Collected, And Cool...
Matthew Scott Harris...ARG
This, a near imp
possible mantra to apply
when this 2009
Macbook Pro went awry
triggering this enduser
to experience tidal waves of high
anxiety, which besieged this fie
foo fighting dirt po' pa well nigh,
who might need buy
another laptop, yet my
anorexic checking account
on life support, no lie
could not afford, (to sigh
phone even one red cent,
all because ordinary healthy
electrons deployed aye
did NOT see usual expected
predictable apple luck
quiche hun activity via my
left and right eye,
yours truly did not espy
usual kickstarting linkedin magic after
preliminary electronic setup
unexpectedly failed to start -
no idea why
unbeknownst tummy, what
ghost in the machine didst defy
programming code of honor,
whereby pixel display
unexpectedly exhibited "abnormal"
computer behavior -
like a turncoat ally
meaning one hoop wrest
illegally start button signaling
subatomic warfare unleashing - guy
did missiles as taught
during routine training
to turn bot tin down stevedores
loose on the Jobs (dan-g) rather, I
watched slack jawed,
as that very singularly narrow
vertical lined band width
(analogous to a medium black
sabbath tipped magic marker)
did NOT display
prestidigitation instantaneous flash
demarcating binary DMZ
(demon mailer zone,
viz dividing screen in half, -
versus top to bottom array), qua
incomplete automatic
initialization stopped
partway thru automatic preparation,
after which cryptic
error message appeared,
which malfunction found me
bursting with damned tears,
and ready to cry,
(which gush of tear
rivalled Hurricane Florence),
cuz mechanical and/or
application so much
of my creative
write minded person
(reed literary) self choked life vie
ability to live, thus the only alternative
...insane asylum to apply!
--------------------------------
SPOILER ALERT...
postscript: after some fluke brought
desk top in view, the quick thinking
chap attached an external drive to a
USB port, and thus breathed easier
knowing a backup got made.
Disguised as an Apple Computer Technician.
He initially hacked Macbook Pro laptop.
He (alias Harvey Specter)
planted seeds of suspicion
that criminal activity prevailed
within my geographic area in general
or questionable individuals
lurked within or without
Citizens Bank in particular,
and suggested yours truly (me)
to be wary about
over friendly employees
at aforementioned capital one
storied financial institution.
Said gonif (pulled a masterful subterfuge)
inveigling yours truly to carry out heist
of the twenty first century
against his honest good n plenti resources
(subsequently checking and
savings accounts severely depleted).
The invisible webbed wide whirled net
ensnared me lock, stock and barrel.
Little did I know
the spellbinding impact
until the dirty deed done dirt cheap
found writer of these words
figuratively holding the empty bag
where I got forced to trod
analogous highway to hell
courtesy diabolical, inimical, satanical...
devil may care disguised cozener
who wove believable scenario
claiming Citizens Bank employees
involved in suspicious conspiracy
to siphon off hard earned bucks.
I submissively consented
to participate and cavalierly disperse
freshly minted Benjamins
suddenly linkedin
chain of events
rocketing, kickstarting, and experiencing
a worse horror than death
mortified at being bushwhacked.
The feeble explanation, justification,
qua obliteration, ululation
trumped with lame excuse
yours truly not in his right mind.
Mind control, (albeit remotely)
assassinated rationality while hypnotically
feeling commanded, governed,
née kid lee killed
mine esprit de corps
among kith and kin
consigning thrifty troubadour
to the depths of despair
wishing termination of existence
in tandem with damnation, interrogation,
penalization, et cetera of nasty brute.
After series of unfortunate events brought,
where innocence and naïveté caught
teetotaler tempted to drink deadly draught
of top quality hemlock sold
at many bustling entrepôt
cuz now existence fraught
with torturous quaking
nauseating, kickstarting hatred
of self, thus restitution
of funds sought
by folks willing bestow largesse.
If yes check out (fiasco from fraudsters
frazzles father)
legitimate platform
where charitable people swarm
and toys are sold.
In the blink of an eye the time passes so fast it flies by
Define time
Lives a ***** then you die
Eye of the storm watches over my lifestyles fate
In dire straight bathing as the holy water washes over my tired face
I sate thirst
I taste black words emerge that I wanna say
and they say I'm shot away
First and second take pressing play checking the record again
Third I gotta change
Forth, fifth, sixth day Armageddon
Getting too close to the edges better slow down ya fast progression of mad acts of mankind's expansion of minds
Enhanced heights
Drawing a line's unintelligible in the advancement of time
At the end of our time do we start again?
Running the marathon man labyrinth
Passionate
Partaking in challenges
Participant champion triumphs
No standing on iron shoulders of arrogant giants
I'm the desert rat blazing a trail in my chariot of fire
Call me Pisces Iscariot sia-mese dream
Twin town hide and seek
Me, myself and I feature split minds spitefully
My real self hides inside myself and screams blue murder
From the tomb where my wounds tumor
Terminal doom soon turns gloomier
Duma key frenzied telepath terror streak
reeks havoc and brings sheer panic to every street
Splashing ink on a blank canvas
Painting the future with an exact accurate dooms day
In fact grab a seat at the master piece gallery of art of new fate
As a new day dawns ya fates drawn
Ya destiny's death till then you'll work just to pay for it
I'm sleep walking with one foot in my grave scourging in flames and the pains more moreish than this draw that I crave
Mad thoughts on my brain scattered funny
I'm that ex druggy heard talking to my sex life in a language I actually haven't studied
Which way is up cus this ascension gets me spinning out twisting figure eights into eyes of the thickest clouds
Brainstorm demon outcast from our modern lands
Phantom of the opera mask
Shock horror comic graph-ic novel
Zombie slash monster mash
Rapid action packed chapters
This mad dog's rabid
Scattering the ashes and rise a hundred phoenix
Evoke the cross ghosts demons and summon the spirits of lost souls
I'm like a poltergeist with a cross bow with poisonous bolts
I'll possess any joyous host
Annoy me I'll destroy every toy ya own
I enjoy walking through this void alone
You read the title correctly,
I realize that everyone's entitled to their own opinion
But, please read the entire story before you decide
Yes, I fell in love with a one eyed Minion
Like most of you I really enjoyed Despicable Me
and in it there was this one little guy
a bit shorter in stature, hair parted in the middle
Deep sigh. love at first sight with a Minion with one eye
His name was Stuart, and he was so playful and intelligent
I knew I was smitten, but alas he wasn't real
And although I could say the same about some humans...
I could not show this Minion fellow how I really feel
Wishful thinking flooded my mind
as I curled up in a comfortable chair, tired, but not sleepy
Next thing I know I appeared to be computer animated...
yet three dimensional...and yes I'll admit, it was a bit creepy
And there they were, a pack of Minions in the park
surging forward as one, looking for another leader
Then I saw Stuart nudge Bob and say, "That's her!
That's the babe that was checking me out in the theater!"
I was surprised that his speech lacked that familiar Minion dialect...
Stuart stood on a bench, and gave me the sweetest little kiss
He said, "I have noticed you in the movies, dozens
of times, but never thought I'd see you like this!"
Initially embarrassed that he knew I've watched him so often
the shame subsided as I spent the day at his place
We dined on banana flambe...and drank frothy banana shakes
Afterwards he serenaded me with a ukulele, with such style and grace
After dark, we took a stroll back to the park
Laying in the grass, I couldn't decide which shined more bright
the stars in the sky, or the twinkling in his eye
How I wished it could be this way every night
Stuart told me he thought humans were a glorious species
and that he loved me with all his heart
if it weren't for our differences in composition
we would never ever be apart
Then the sky and the ground began to buckle
All at once I was taken completely unaware
Instead of snuggling on the grass
I was reclining on that comfortable chair
I haven't seen him that way since,
I guess blu ray or dvd will just have to do
Although I miss him terribly, at least we had that one delightful day
Yes, I fell in love with a one eyed Minion, you do believe me..don't you?
2/25/16
Peppie was feeling cool
Watching the sky blue
Realizing he was on top
Above good ole rival Klopp
When Chelsea arrived
To the beehive
With intention
For a conversation about the detention
That should be mentioned
Getting attention
In the Daily Mail
Telling the story how Chelsea was nailed
“Our new fourth member
Pulled something this first weekend in December
Put a whammy
Using the Western Hammy
Trapping me in third
Finding out nothing is insured,”
Laughing Peppie continued enjoying feeding on the honey
Thinking what happened ‘was ever so funny’
“You wore yellow
A Mellow
Merchandising seller,”
Peppie replied
Knowing Chelsea tried
“Well, you were in white
For your bee buzzing fight
That was a bore and never tight!”
In another place
Klopp was building his case
Returning from battle
Protecting his cattle
Wolves on the attack
Working like a pack
Nil Nil to the end
Following a goal scripted by an athletic pen
Klopp was able to defend
Success!!
In the test
Not feeling alone
Having a civil tone
Approaching the two
Noting no one wearing blue
Pondering something was starting to brew
“First and third
Haven’t you heard,”
Peppie spoke the word
“I did some checking
No longer first instead second”
Klopp said
Impersonating a bridesmaid wanting to wed
But due to debt
Had to wear red
Chelsea gave a look
Like after reading a good chapter in a book
“You are lucky to be in front of me
You should be in spot number three,”
She did shrug
Still needing a hug
“About this West Ham
Who created the one-point jam?”
They all started to wonder
About the lunchtime blunder
“Are these Hammers for real?
Or just Londoners asking deal or no deal?”
As the trio checked their list twice
Being border protective and nice
“Should we let them in?
To our elite circle of win?”
Chelsea started the rebuttal
Noting they had this entertaining bubble
Creating trouble
On the table
Winding around the English Premiere fable
Where only one takes it all
Declaring the champion playing futbol
Moving through the pulse and the flow
A timetable of fixed dilation
A given
And measured
Ellipse
To the people it trips
As they ride the crest
Of the waves
Of emotions
Just prisoners of
Perpetual motion
Never ceasing
Never pretending to be
Anything more
Born into the days
Of a future long past
Spying its records
From the start to the last
We are all
Just second hand news
In a land of ne’re to be
Nonsensical devotion
The prisoners of perpetual motion
Elate
And repress
The We
The US three
The Me
Myself
and I
Come to share in a life such as these
Checking out the view
I’m just second hand news
In the land of Ne’re do we
Strolling on by and
Pressing on through
Tasked with its provisions
And it’s riddled revisions
Nonsense and fiction
Have found their new diction
Of solar progression
As they encapsulate
The US Three
Strolling on by
Pressing ahead
The RIGHT
And the TRUE
It’s textured and layered deception
Held a managed intervention
Holding within its folio
The signatures of digression
Devoid of emotion
As it’s pendulum swings to and fro
Never able to leave
Or break its grasp
Transcending all in its path
Nonsense and fiction
Wear a guise of suspicion
Take on a new face
A perplexing division
With its sweeping broad strokes
To embrace and replace the US Three
Brushing on past
Just a page before
You knocked on the door
Of the garden where flowers once grew
These steps you’ve taken
Left to the tender mercies
Of fiscal conservancy’s
Hyperbolic uncertainty
Common knowledge
Given breathe
As stolen
A thief
Of the Inspector in chief
His notes plainly written
A solider in part
Has taken my enemies heart
In a fruitless pursuit
Of passion and pain
Here
I remain
In its orbital dance
The great mechanic has cast
His players
The WE
The US Three
Cry the home
On this ellipse
As we roam
The WE
The US Three
The black crow
Watches unfaltering
With his stalwart gaze
As your counterfeit lies
Sought in other men’s eyes
With a forbodance
Which can not be denied
In the wink of an eye
Like the pearls on a string
That glow
And
That shine
As it squares with the facts
In the drivers seat of circumstance
And at length in perpetuity
YOU hold the charter to men’s hearts.