Long Despise Poems
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Political Shenanigans
By Franklin Price
11/2/2015
Political shenanigans
Will finger pointing ever end
Not until the one who's pointing
Has no reason to defend
Whether verbally or visually
If finger pointing comes your way
It's either profit or distraction
That they hope will make their day
The candidates and media
Self-absorbed and ego pent
Whatever suits their fancy
However twisted and/or bent
Nothing is protected
Whether it was done or not
If you are involved with politics
A pig in mud is what you've got
I'm sure that there are honest ones
Who begin with open eyes
They've come to clean up politics
At least the parts we all despise
So they run and are elected
Our best interest in their heart
Most soon are trying out the mud
Sling a little do their part
Then wonder how they got there
Lied and cheated just a bit
The establishment pulled me right in
I tried to fight but had to fit
If I am reelected
So much better I will do
I promise I will straighten out
And be there just for you
She walked and talked in a world called theirs
Worries she had with her earthly cares
Found near Hadar, this specimen of old
A lady from our past, lying stone cold
She walked her lands amidst horses so small
In the Awash Valley where trees were so tall
Naked to bare, all her kin were the same
In a land so different, to she not strange
What would she be seeing if we could see through her eyes
Would there be hate and hurt and a typical despise
Maternal and loving we can only assume
In the valley where she lived, we have the same front room
And just as we, she was born to die
Evolutionary in exist, below the same blue skies
She walked and talked in a world called theirs
Worries she had with her different cares
This lady I talk of, Lucy we have named
From our past she existed, with a different fame
She was the oldest of us ever found
Lying stone cold on earths ancient ground
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-15.php
Magic happened on the shore of the Montezuma horizon
Two genies appeared, Mondomay and Mighizeb
Dressed in gauzy dainty chiffon, carrying two cats and a swan
They were a corpulent two, one with brown eyes, the other blue.
What wishes did you have? A new goat, sheep, donkey or calf?
People pleasers all the way, their attention made my day.
Illustrious and lovely, they had suggestions, but kept them hidden.
We are not allowed to share our ideas, even if prompted and bidden.
I told them I would have to think and Mighizeb’s face turned pink.
We might run out of wishes, said Mondomay, as he washed my dishes.
For this had been my first wish, as I despise redundant dishrag swishes.
You wasted a wish! Said my husband Mouse who now lives in his mama’s
she said he was a hoffknocka
a proletariat sort of peasant.
more so a woff doff casscul
a simon descendant of peasantry
he found comfort in poverty.
she refused to help him:
her brother whom
she loved as a child: but she
found it easy to walk on him
as an adult.
those whom you love
they all love me.
they despise you
they look to their world and hate
the fact fact that you are in it.
she makes him suffer
and has made his labor harder
she stands among those
who wishes him to be poor
that it's easier from her position
she sings dew-lay-mi in the night
might those who are in different to her
find comfort in helping him
endearing these positions
to generate nexting
from a new veiw
might he become n Ellitistic person from his
new found comfort
build
enbolden
and to empower
When fate pulls at my haiku of heartstrings,
I curse the syllables of my poetic musings.
If I do not express my sorrows,
how will petals blossom in my garden?
Upon the midst of bewilderment,
lost without a bosom for a sanctuary.
Life can cause confusion;
seem somewhat an illusion;
when the mind only sees disillusion.
Upon the depths of despair;
placed upon the ledge of melancholy -
legs dangle, eyes stare into random space.
Absent thoughts have no demand,
yet the soul is insistent,
but, all that is seen is darkness;
charcoal horizons with no guiding stars,
with the moon obscured by dull smoke,
jaded eyes simply wonder why.
What has become of me?
I despise the voices controlling my head.
I'm afraid of the images they've created.
Who will save me from this ludicrous lucidity.
Can anyone prevent vicious vines from suffocating me?
Vertigo seduces the mind,
influencing it to leap - but it has no faith.
Below lies an endless void,
a collection of human delusions;
an abyss of crushed expectations.
Heaven's broken arrows rain down,
blood dripping with fragments of broken dreams.
A reminder of another false pledge -
the final episode of a heart's connection.
Flames of hell prepare to scorch me.
Sometimes growth is like a stream,
that has lost itself in an ocean.
No identity, misplaced and alienated,
so it dies a slow death.
A sigh can only become deceased,
when a heart does not beat.
So, why do so many die
when the water of existence is in your hands?
In the marketplace of life,
each merchant will give you a different price.
Some will try to sell you dreams,
others, goods on false pretences.
Be careful, not to give all your emotions
away to the first bidder;
life is an auction -
don't let the auctioneer play with your heart.
Sometimes love is an unpredictable enigma.
I'm tired of living around gambolling gambits,
who's games condemn a soul to suicide.
But, little do they know,
I am a master of self deprecating.
The greatest of all pretenders,
suffering from a poison mistake
that lives with me forever.
"When the demons of hell send out their call -
do they mention you by name ?
Are you fearful in their presence -
or do you love to play their game ?
Do they come because they haunt you -
or because you invite them in ?
Are you the end result of hell-
or from where it all begins ?
I hate this world for all its lies and the twisted tales of truth
I despise the rules and all the lies I was preached to in my youth.
People push all of my buttons and act surprised when I get mad
They have no idea the rage and the hatred that I’ve had
For all of those bastards who impose their foolish rules
And for all of their followers who listen to these fools
Who are they to tell me right -
or demand some dues to pay
F*** them and their dumb ass games
cause I’m not gonna play .
I’ve been knocked down, pushed around
and had my share of strife
But you’ll never see me on my knees
as I walk this path of life
I’ll stand up tall and bare the load
of all that I must face
I’ll suffer through this wretched world
with honor, poise and grace
Don’t waste your breath informing me
Of how your rules apply
You can ram those up your puckered hole
that never sees the sky
So hold onto your asses now
and expect no sympathy
You’ve shown me no kindness
so expect the same from me"
My god is a gentle god he doesn't sanction violence.
My god gives me guidance but he delivers it in silence.
My god puts no urge on me to despise another nation
My god guides me through the dark and gives illumination
My god offers no reward if in his name I commit an act of terror.
My god will hold no grudge when as I will, I error
My god is a giving god he needs no church or sacrificial alter
My god is a patient god, he knows I try and when I do I falter
My god offers forgiveness for any deed done wrong.
My god makes his presence felt and makes this person strong.
My god is always by my side with him I'm never friendless
My god offers this great life and an afterlife that’s endless.
My god lets me be me. He demands so little obligation.
My god only asks of me to live my life in celebration.
My god needs neither church nor congregation, written words or songs of
admiration
My god lives within my soul and is my source of hope, love and inspiration.
Admire, exult, despise, laugh, weep for here. There is such matter for all feelings: Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.
— Lord Byron
Morning love sought with riveting pink and amber foliage.
hunter-green mask
encapsulated service
fanfare from afar
elbow-high fives
Twilight burned hue of leaves behind charcoal trees; mood
that familiar pink
dissimilar dusk
cephalopod ink
blackened windows
swings like a pendulum — hopefulness holds tight,
suspended
above rhyme and season
legs dangling
affright coyote’s moon
waiting, spellbound for the aubade reprisal of light.
regale of a New Year
trumpeting
cloud nine
peacock-breath
11/22/2020
Sunday
Can't stand the man
Despise his sight
I hate him so
With all my might.
In all my years
Can't recall a time
I had to deal
With such vile slime.
A puffed up despot
A vain buffoon
His very sight
Spells doom and gloom.
My only solace
My one salvation
Ice cream for dinner
Enough to face the nation.
The sugar rush
That silken taste
Tempers my moods
If not my waist.
What do I care
Why should I cease
When I’ve revealed
Trump is morbidly obese.
I told the world
Made it quite clear
His health in mind
And not a smear.
The truth quite harsh
Sometimes it hurts
He needs cut down
McDonalds and desserts.
But not long now
Elections close
Watching with glee
Trump thrashing in death throws.
Joe's on the cusp
If only he knew
But with creeping dementia
He hasn't a clue.
So my plan's now enacted
All scheming and guile
To get rid of both
And rule with a smile.
I've earned it for sure
Endured with such class
Folks never guessed
I was such pure bad-a**.
Three steps forward and two steps back
Fifteen miles down a railroad track
Walking from misery in a no-good world
A no good job and a no-good girl
Leaving disgraced in other men’s eyes
Troubled haven from my lonely cries
Staring at rails while cursing my fate
Flirting with memories to compensate
Though, this journey I must despise
I welcome the birth of a new sun rise
I entered this flight from an agitated state
Longing to sing hymns at heaven’s front gate
For all the good that wealth would bring
All gone now, in a faded dream
Down this track my future may wait
My mind and feet in a furious debate
Which wins now, only God can tell
How long I tread upon this rail
What solitude I hope to find
A few poultry acres enters my mind
A cow for milk and fields for bread
Maybe an old tractor under a rundown shed
There are things this rail could bring
One good wife would make me a king.