Long Chopped liver Poems
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i need to stop frowning and epitomizing
and sell this Caddy to the Cardinal
trying to let it miss your attention won't fly
since writing is speech even if somewhat removed
or fit only for bouncy news anchor banter
pancake makeup a bit too aflame
like they do in shadow theater
where the container is the contained
because we can still index the cornucopia
eff you said the furry little May Pole Bunny
you can be sure he was in on it too
along with the Hen in the Willow
the Great Flaming Spiral in the Sky
and the nuns of St. Manacle
doing their Plantation Rebel Dance
with cascade of equally herkimer antecedents
perpetually enthused with the mystery of tomorrow
just don't try to tell me how to move my eyelids
smoke signals will always take care of that
cascading across the clacking copper contacts
in a total lack of continuity all at once
it is a pigeon tongue spoken in barter
barely able to walk after the derision of linguists
lobbed horseshoes across the barricades
against surgeons wielding kitchen knives
on a search and destroy mission
for chopped liver epicures from the Bank of Winter
living dead men's dreams was no picnic
memes eating my soul like red worms
only my degree from the School for the Sickly
standing between me and the Necromancers
who were emphatically not house trained
my collective unconscious operation manual
tossed on the burn pile half a life ago
now dumbed down to syntactically correct
in infinitesimal quantities with a Nefertiti smile
my mind a bordello of interpretation
God is not dead he is passe etc.
a raised by wolves feral non-conformist
everything orbits everything else
and that's space for you
which will bend yer crank kid
unless you can get your mood to swing
out from the nether realms of mourning
and the agony of oblique signals
written with the ***** of Satan
shaking money from your pockets again
a Conniving Backstabbing Bastard production
he hated coercion like he hated licorice
he was revolution incarnate all fresh and rosy
it was a kosher Pentecost event
tried quoting Lenin but it was too easy
the proletariat is people in a pickle
the dueling cucumbers of class warfare
now I'm on a dozen watch lists
followed by Diana's paparazzi
to this claustrophobic cinemaplex
and its temporal artery of light
at 3 in the afternoon
a good cheap remedy
following a bad diagnosis
Down For The Count
By MEH3
1....2....3
That was a devastating blow
4....5....6
He is beat up, defeated it is OVER!
7....8....9
Hold on
What do we have here?
Is he getting back on his feet!
Ooh my God
It is a miracle
After that one
he looked like he was
down for the count
Just when I thought it was over
and felt I was defeated
He got me back on my feet
I took blows
from my head to my toes
been shook, shaken and beaten
When they said
"Down he goes"
They thought I was done
Little did they know
He had a plan
for his son
They said..."stay down"
"Don’t get up"
"This is not for you"
"Just let it go"
He said NO!!!
I got you,
I will fight your battles until the end
So get up
and get back in
I will carry you to a win
A victory,
a champion
you will never give in
But I was thinking
"I cannot"
"I give up"
"he wins"
He said, looked at me
are you doubting me again?
I never said it would be easy
You have to stick in there until the end!
You thought it was over
But I have a friend
Who is above all those
Who counted me out
You thought I was done
But it is was not in His plan
He said do not worry about it
and gave me a sneak peek at His hand
Looking forward
I got excited
and jumped to my feet
They said he is crazy
Chopped liver
Done, Complete
But as I caught my second wind
I thought
well let the fight begin
I am ready,
yeah ready to win
I have no worries, no doubts
so let's get it in
Because now I have the faith
that He will be by my side
That He holds my hand
He carried me on His back
Fought that fight
and of course He got that win
Even in defeat He got me back on my feet
I will never be down for the count
Until that day we meet
Even then
it would not be the end
Because I have eternal life
When you thought it was over
He extended His hand
picked me up and gave me another chance
He knew I was a sinner
but He showed me
the true definition of a friend
He told me He will be there until the end
Even though He knows I will sin again
He said He will not depart me
So I got up being determined to never give up
Understanding that I am not down for the count
I am just being patient until then
#ItzMeThePoet
4/14/24
I'm not sure exactly around where
But I know she's out there
With or without brown hair
I can't sit and wait like a lounge chair
I have to keep searching I'm now aware
Too much time I've been wasting it
Across all gradients
Her presence full of radiance
To me she is regarded in salience
She has a heart of gold
I start to not feel dark and cold
In every part of my soul
It's sad that carnage grows
Yet truly amazing how karma goes
I was down a path battling the hardest throes
Then I stopped and said it
She deserves lots of credit
Difficult to say if she got the message
And if what I meant was or was not effective
Beside all these pots and pans
Having honor can
Turn you into a stronger man
For you I offer my hand
Originally something I couldn't grasp
Now I've understood that
No need to always look back
Hard times should pass
In the present it's nice to share some good laughs
Sure at some point I could crash
But that's life not everything would last
Outlooks and outcomes always seemed grim and rough
The never ending pressure like I never did enough
I was beginning to get sick of much
But with a bit of luck
Plus willpower helped get rid of stuff
Since it's easy to give up
Yet to always go on and live is tough
Next thing you know it's all gone into dust
Funny how it's so different with her
My life doesn't wither
I always thought I'd be chopped liver
That the end would not differ
My choices were an odd mixture
Drowned my sorrows in lots of liquor
Was still lost no elixir
Until I finally got the picture
I was headed toward the gravesite
She helped change my way of life
With more than great advice
Day and night
She's a ray of light
When I went to break the ice
I figured she'd tell me to take a hike
But what she had to say was nice
"At times we all face a plight
May pay the price
Yet we can still make it right"
Involved with illumination in my imagination
Feeling the urge of sudden frustration and agitation
My spirit, with wit, is legit and yes, I admit
I’m a believer and a giver
But, I’m not your chopped liver
So, don’t butcher me into your oven of diseaseful danger
I’m unlimited with opportunities, so please don’t reduce me to anger
I’m drowning in doubtless hopes
I am coping, hoping I won’t hear your mopes
Loving you isn’t all that easy to the core
I’ll put my input into being free once more
I’m a fighter, levitating with a lighter in hand
Understand I am not going to land in your land
I will evolve eventually
And elegantly, you will rise robustly
Somehow, I’m living in the now
The silence of my past took a bow
Promising you peace in all aspects of life
Giving up and for the thousandth time, I will find my wife eventually as long as I don’t cut myself with life’s jagged knife
We have each other’s backs
I just got to sit back and relax
I am languishing in the literally bewildered mind of mine
Don’t worry about me, how are you? Are you doing fine?
Hold on to me and don’t let me collapse with cold hands
I am the twinge of pain of a flick of rubber bands…
Discard desires from the wicked
I want this loneliness and dread
To leave me the hell alone
Because, God is on my side
My rivers are running so wide
And narrow like trekking the pathway
From night to day, from night to day
I’ll be okay, as long as you are, darling
I want you to take wing with them and see what happiness will bring
I’m calm and getting ready to rest a little more than usual
Don’t mistaken me a nonsensical, dense fool because I’m not fooled, that’s bull
I am digging a grave to ingratitude and hatred
I am resurfacing reminisces, radiating in my head
Evolve with me for an eternity and beyond
I am a fish, flamboyantly flipping my fins in this peculiar pond
Body, Mind, And Spirit Triage Co-Opted
Viral microbes didst relish
meaty morsel feast
hyperbole (included greased
for dramatic effect) ceased
not, but linkedin
constituent facets increased
with right wing conspiracy
of mine physical health least
up to par today found me writhing,
asper like a wounded beast.
I feel as if giant size
(yes...with closed eyes try to see)
nasty bugaboos did invade me,
and shrunk down yours truly prithee,
(this from gorging on one not so heavy
corporeal doddering entity) si,
whose light humors opposite of glee,
thus envision this bard, granting himself
woolworth truevalue as a flea
to continue poetic tale
(agonizing sham “FAKE” rocked Leprechaun)
on microscopic scale
essentially, a myopic seek reacher
relative of Spongebob, the latter hale
ling from Bikini Bottom,
whose absence aye still bewail,
especially his misfortune sail
ling from toilet bowl
into water treatment plant
leaving sopping wet trail
of eyes rubbed red,
which sadness happens to this male,
when he experiences
invisible nine inch nail
piercing vital organs
with no energy to wail.
Mind boggling to this scribe
how itty bitty organisms can imbibe
every last drop of vitality, describe
epidemic, which if blithely ignored
more virulent parasites could
affect the entire human tribe
fallout nearly as complete
approximately bajillion years ago,
an unimaginable feat
asteroids crashed Earth
generating temperatures
greater than Miami heat
surface with scarring and beat
meteoric plowed shares into swords
whereby predominant species
huge lumbering beasts uttered holy sheet
or a similar facsimile thereof
similar to poet reduced to (of course)
NON GMO gluten free shredded wheat
resembling chopped liver
after trampled by Little Feet!
Pitbull Boxing the rules have changed/
It's a little different in this pitbull Boxing ring/
We fight till the death, nothing more or less/
There's no time to think, no time to catch your breath/
Put your paws up, I'll make you suck a knuckle/
Step into the ring, I'll beat you to the buckle/
Once I lock on you, there's no way to.get free/
The more I smell blood is the more you'll bleed/
I'm a renegade, and I never been afraid/
I'll run circles around you until you need first aide/
My paws claw like a blade, I'll rush you like a raid/
Beat you until you twisted like a braid/
You'll think I was a death aider, the venom is sick/
You hit like a chick, I hit like a brick/
I'm the real deal, and you're just a knockoff/
Hit you in your chin and watch you go down/
Choke you out, stump you out, beat you till you black out/
Step up, get beat down, there's only one can step out/
Leave you chopped liver with the blows I deliver/
This is your downfall but you'll be floating up river/
Once I'm finished with you you'll need a care giver/
Inside of this ring I'm the only law giver/
Look into my eyes, it's enough to make you quiver/
A jab adlibber so cold will make you shiver/
You're super counterfeit and need to be confiscated/
I.went from being the one they loved to one they hate/
Now I'm taking my frustration out against my opponent/
I don't need a motive, rage is my component/
I'm a pitbull bully, and one you don't wanna meet/
I move foul, I'm flagrant, I'll leave you out cold/
There's nowhere you can run, no way to escape it/
This ring is my restaurant, I eat what I want/
And looking like a whole lot of chump, so I taunt/
I'll make sure that there won't be a rematch/
Put your money on me, you won't need a refund/
Most restful sleep since... being in utero
Courtesy restless leg syndrome
spouse called me expletive rat fink
ousted me out the bed with plink
as lovely bones almost got extinct,
whence consoled self singing ditty
Skidamarink a-dink a-dink
makeshift burrow of pillows nsync
shuteye analogous to grateful dead,
Elysian Fields I did drink
yours truly fast asleep
found repose within eyeblink
awoke rested minus
knotted knobs entire body kink
metaphorical twisted human pretzel,
yours truly did not shrink
though disabled to walk,
hence mobility regressed
circumscribing me ambulatory
range to crawl and slink,
no matter paralyzed
(albeit temporarily), I think
above mentioned rectifies
Quandary whereat legs
shimmy and shake
keeping the missus awake
she requires daily at least
twenty four hours
of beauty rest to slake
lest she renders me into
chopped liver and/
or skewered beefcake
nuttin I divulge "fake,"
courtesy this corny flake,
who years gone by
a scoundrel and rake
straying against marital fidelity
triggering psychological earthquake
present crisis pits less at stake,
thus forgive wordplay
much more age
appropriate than pattycake,
perhaps slight hyperbole
thee only literary gambit
up figurative sleeve,
me ain't no magician,
nor gifted with holiness
able to walk across lake
thus harmlessly,
kiddingly, purposelessly...
cavort, frolick,
before darkness, when I
unduly forced to betake
self and disappear hoping the morrow
will find most bushy tailed wideawake.
“So this is your yearly assessment
Pray tell how you feel you have done
Since we made you Head of Progressment
Shaping everything under the Sun.”
“My achievements are way beyond measure
And whilst I am not one to boast
I’ve brought people sadness and pleasure
And any that sin become toast.”
“We gave you eight different departments
And threw in an outlying one
Yet, it seems to me, that Department Three
Was where you had most of your fun.”
“Listen, Guv, ‘Fun’ doesn’t cut it
I had proper plans for that place
And frankly I did try to shut it
I did at least try to save face.”
“We know that it’s true that little Old Blue
has cast its spell often before
But we allocated the system to you
And thought you’d achieve rather more.”
“Okay, I messed up, but that’s a bit harsh
You handed me gases and dust
Then watched me drag men from a primeval marsh
Yet none of you seem very fussed.”
“It’s all quite impressive, but can’t be allowed
We have to protect our positions
These men that you speak of are now quite a crowd
And creating unpleasant conditions.”
“You seemed to like all my volcanoes,
My earthquakes and boulders from space
I’ll wipe my slate clean, but I’ve had lots of goes
And I can’t shake that darned human race.”
“Well here’s a design change on which we won’t budge
Put chopped liver between their ears
You see, Mr God, we’re not here to judge
But you can’t let them have their ideas.”
12/30/20
Their stuff they are flashing
Towards others they are bashing
They get a kick out of it, and continue laughing
They think they are all that
Against me, you'll fall flat
And never get a call back
Just another small cat
Who always tries to talk crap
When you see me, panic and walk fast
Come get it, if you want the ball back
Or continue being a mall rat
Life showing so much beauty and turning ugly
Knuckles often bloody
They always find it funny
They got so much money
And your struggling, daily and monthly
Often self-inflicted
Or from addiction and prescriptions
By myself can't always fix it
Often need help, just can't kick this
Until I'm fully committed
Go figure
There really is a bigger
Picture
I'm working on vigor
And rigor
How dare you litter
Got no time to bicker
Or remain bitter
Don't care if we differ
People often thinking they are quicker
Richer
Slicker
And thinking sinister
Most just trying to get through winter
Not getting upset if they lose and aren't always the winner
Or going around and calling others a sinner
Just trying to remain chipper
On both sides of the river
It warms the soul, or gives you shivers
I'm not being a kidder
Here's the kicker
If you want to be a trickster
Prepare to be chopped liver
Anxious in Ancona (2)
The Doge has apportioned a fleet for his use,
but is proving an Indian giver.
A pope with a navy (and with a screw loose)
is no-one’s idea of chopped liver,
so Venice, delaying and playing obtuse,
is selling the pope down the river.
A Christian army, devoted to God,
is what Pius imagines he’s shaping,
but this one is riding distinctly rough-shod:
Ancona’s awash with the scrapings
of Europe: and here, where the Caesars once trod,
they are busily looting and raping.
There ain’t going to be any ardent crusade,
and Pius is dying, for certain.
They’ve all came to nothing, those plans that he laid,
and his project has gone for a burton.
To stop him from seeing his “army”, his aide
has fastened the litter’s gauze curtain.
He thought to have fought at the head of a host:
but reality isn’t like that.
We babble and squabble, we brag and we boast,
but our fantasies always fall flat.
Poor Pius was no Alexander. At most,
he was sort of an Anwar Sadat.
We curse our ill fortune and, wringing our hands,
we wail at our undeserved lot.
But is it so rare, as we formulate plans,
to end up with diddly squat?
If that’s how it goes with the Number One man,
what chance have the rest of us got?