Long Fashionable Poems
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A sleepless night is nightless sleep
An awakened night
Sound of the fan
Sound of silence
Scare of the still
Thoughts of thinking
Thinking on thoughts
To past; future
Timeless moment – the present
Faces come, events pass
Come back to the present with a shriek
Fear dawns
Sounds dance in hounds
Screech of the flight passing by
Woke up from the awake.
She crawls on
Not found me to hug
Continues to fast asleep
I start counting one to hundred
End up to a thousand.
Took up an old half pornographic magazine
Scarcely dressed women to scare
Appalling gossips
An affair of minister with an actress
Charged in an interview by his wife
A meticulous murder of a History sitter
Opium of the people- terrible journalism
Move on switch on the Box (television)
Fashionable women in modern trends
Libido boosts up
Twist, swings of the Beauties
Swinging rhythmic bodies
Who is that?
She puts her hand on my shoulder
And went on and on.
Sleep got defeated,
Dawn comes the sleep
Down goes the night.
Then, was a lot less adversity
Then, you just can't compare
Then, was common courtesy
Then, people they did so care
Then, there were less prudes
Then, people got on together
Then, a different set of attitudes
Then, we'd never say never
Then, was more fashionable
Then, seemed more classic
Then, was more memorable
Then, I think was just fantastic
Then, time's were more sleek
Then, was just way more cool
Then, I would say was unique
Then, though now is oldskool!
inspired me by my other writes a new age, world in my eyes
conversations with other people family friends ext
also other soup members and of course current issues
some could probably relate to also WRITTEN 0CT 2012
FIRST HALF TALKING ABOUT NOW AND HOW THINGS WER
THEN REEDITED ABIT CHANGED VERSE TWO COMPLELY
Pt 1 2 3 4
living spaces
of elegance
besides
among
placed in shadows
of fantasy
with custom..
get understood
to illuminate
the literal
blush with
the fashionable
experiment
& discern
with
the curious
surrender
to emotion
a wilderness
politeness
in pillars
of the peculiar
nomadic
remote
detached
expressions
attitudes
mde manifest
with
experimental ideals
a redeemed
possession
imparts innocence
with meaning
polishing
knowledge
spins
spirals
tumbles
adapts..
dumbfounded
to reach
a conclusion
in
privacy
With friend in tow, we take a stroll
Slight change of scenery
To bid farewell to summer's spell
And its fading greenery
My carefree friend took one last spin
Through weeds now turning gold
Then chased a squirrel hiding brown pearls
To dig in winter's cold
There's flying V's. on Southern breeze
In loud squawking migration
Flying in low to let us know
Their Southern destination
As they go by, wings wave good-bye
As autumn closes in
My friend and I watch them and sigh
Then feel a shift in the wind
Sunlight filters through branches of elm
Discarding summer's fashionable leaves
Wearing golden hues tinged in rust
They fall as tears from one who grieves
My companion sprints after them
But soon gives up the chase
Returning to match his steps with mine
We saunter on at an easy pace
Clouds are rolling in from the North
Painting the sky gray, a little dark
We stop for a moment in hesitation
Wondering if we should leave the park
But we're having such a great time walking
On this crisp cusp of summer's day
And though we didn't do much talking
My Buddy and I decide to stay
By Lin lane and Daniel Turner
In the year 2319, we can only imagine how and what life will be,
Will there still be families, or just a pooled incensed, breeding sea,
Of writhing, intoxicated humans, clocking in for their lunch hour,
Trying to reproduce and gaining ten more points towards power!
Will mealtimes be as we know them today, or just merely queuing?
For a measly tablet which you must have daily, chewing thus renewing,
Your stamina to surf the planets at a graceful, fiercely unimaginable
Pace, you must be in Planet Venus by 8 docks, o’clock, fashionable!
As you arrive darkness greets you, your spirit, your being generates light,
Only on those you want to see or places that you long to be in spite,
Of the fact that if you stay too long, you sky home will be auctioned,
And your brain scrambled, and laid to rest, without been cautioned!
No rules, no policies, no systems, no charge, no one to give any rating,
Just chaos, and the thought of inhuman elimination, your clone is waiting,
And inherits your looks, your character, your wired and messed up brain,
And this clone will be cycled and recycled for the same to begin all over again!
Birds chirping roughly on an avocado tree
I curiously look upwards to see what could that noise be?
Is it a sparrow or a mockingbird?
It's plump and it has all shades of brown
I'm stepping upwards next to the spiraling, gnarled tree before me
The chirping has stopped this second
Breaking my imaginative ideas and brewing them to ruins
I'm stepping downwards
Urging myself to walk towards this memorable maze-like place
Where I could feel the wind caress my face
In a meadow of cherished flowers
Making this my solitude
To sit on a crooked bench and ponder about my frowning attitude
I hear someone steeping below the wall...the safety cliff
I seem to stand here all stiff
Hearing all the bafflement of my unreal family
I walk around,
Inspiration driven through this memorable garden
Endless in its incredible surprises
Leaving me no place to face my demises
Struck by fireworks from the cloudless, fashionable sky
Sitting on a scrawny, dirty chair
Staring at the ancient tree...wondering how life isn't fair
How could it bear such fruit or vegetable?
It grows firm and ripe
Without a flaw...without a stripe
Though I feel that I'm too thin
I walk around,
Inspiration driven through this memorable garden
Endless in its incredible surprises
Leaving me no place to face my tangled drowsiness
I must stop stepping downwards
Into my deep motivations...my charmed desire
Though its hoarse and cruel to leave this tangling temptations
I decide about a decade later
That I really need to take a tightening grasp to hold on to the
stairway's handlebars
Hold on for a minute...I hear a cricket beneath the cemented ground
It leaves the wind to make no ruffling sound
About a decade later, I realize this cycle goes on and on and on and it
mixes altogether
We need to be brought up together
As a family and visit my uncle and grandma
I need to make the decision to step upwards
Make an effort to say my last words:
"I love you all! We'll see you both next month!"
I start the cycle all over again in July
This time,
I won't fail to do my missions
I never doubted my gliding flight like a baby bird,
I have always trusted the free winds of democracy.
It offers justice for those whose freedoms are deferred.
It grants inclusiveness to those so threatened by autocracy.
I am just a poet, still believing synergy has wings,
I am just a poet trusting economic popular will,
a working-class autarky of mutual planning.
An open, creative society of affinity and skill.
This is democracy not beyond our reach,
This is wealth and power shared equally by all,
The triumphant fruition of a class-conscious breach,
To alter social relations and scale capital’s steep wall.
Yet, democracy’s constraints cannot now be ignored.
They accumulate like blisters in a third-degree burn.
Fascism is increasingly fashionable, normal, and adored.
White rage and vengeance poison politics at every turn.
We watch the canary in the coal mine die.
No new democracy is possible in this noxious air.
Under the Insurrection Act, lost freedoms multiply.
Under martial law, only the elite will be spared.
But I am just a poet, believing in what binds us,
I am just a poet convinced of a universal empathy,
A place where we welcome diversity as a plus,
A home where universal compassion is our destiny.
Published in Dissident Voice: 12/17/23
I browsed thro' an old Sears-Roebuck Catalogue the other day.
The necessaries shown in its pages would be antiquities today.
It illustrated harness, horse shoes, things to tend horse's withers,
And displayed everything from anvils to fifty-one string zithers!
Ma could mail-order the latest in stylish apparel to wear:
Bloomers, corsets and petticoats with dainty, fashionable flair!
Things were more prudently displayed in those delicate Victorian days,
So ladies ankles were discreetly covered to spare the ogler's gaze!
Pa had available to him the latest and greatest in carpentry tools,
Cultivators that could be drawn by his two cantankerous mules,
Blacksmithing gadgets, manure spreaders, fishing rods and reels,
Cream separators, horse collars, axe handles and buggy wheels!
For just a little over three dollars and seventy-five cents,
Junior could be clad with jacket and matching knee-length pants.
Kids could drool over teddy bears which then were all the rage,
And marvel at the magic land of toys on each titillating page!
'Twas enlightening to view things as they were in those good old days.
I suppose back than all those things were the current craze.
Items costing pennies then, now repose on shelves in the antique store.
But, my oh my, over the decades, how the cost of them did soar!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
She looked pretty at the Zebra crossing,
weaving slowly, her shampooed hair tossing,
cars stopped still, to allow her go across,
who wouldn’t stop to let a beauty pass!
She looked neither to her left nor her right,
body cutting out shape in pants bit tight,
eyes fixed on the messages on her phone,
tripping when side stepping a traffic cone.
She continued her walk on the pavement,
her gaze on phone, no other engagement,
people just getting out of her long strides,
moving out, leaning against walls on sides.
She will, let us pray, march on and reach home,
Walking in a dream with eyes on her phone,
Smart phone habits have made people road blind,
live in a cyber, not engage their mind.
a habit that has cost many their lives,
smart phones kill more now than do guns and knives,
when use road pay attention to surrounds,
watch each step well as your feet touch the ground.
not fashionable if on phone walking,
drivers, road users find it annoying,
drop habit, urge others to do the same,
can save lives, limbs, if this habit we tame!
My closet, since you ask, is a cramped space,
Chosen and cherished fashionable base,
Essential part of my enchanted place,
With charm and chic to complement my face.
Shows off all hues of my life if I may -
From baby pink to darkest shades of grey,
Reflecting the intended role I play,
Engaging gaily in Societe.
Levi’s slim fit - my favourite by far,
Red miniskirt to storm a local bar,
Sleek diva dress as karaoke star,
Extra large sweatpants, running chores by car.
Stylish business suit for formal dinner,
A little black dress, my boss’ head spinner,
Bikini thongs as hot summer sinner,
Levi’s slim fit still my all time winner!
My closet caters to the latest trend,
Adjusting to occasions I attend.
I love all walks of vogue but in the end,
Levi’s slim fit - my easygoing friend!
Wide range of footwear I wouldn’t omit,
But shoe department in one poem won’t fit.
(The arsenal of bags, a dazzling hit,
So is the lingerie, I must admit).
But if a pair of shoes I ought to pick,
Without moment’s hesitation real quick -
I would grab cowgirl boots, sexy and slick,
Vibing with my Levi’s through thin and thick!