Long Gang up Poems
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After required Thanksgiving Day
and depressing night
I awoke surprised
by release into ego-homelessness.
What could sad night despairs mean?
Reiterating loss of grateful identity
mysteriously disappearing through this habitat's coldly absent roof
of sacred grace
space.
Why would capital depression,
RightBrain suppression
and historic patriarchal suppression
suddenly gang up more gracefully,
less threateningly,
on ZeroZone ego-homelessness
freely chosen
before rudely thrown out
for lack of paternal place.
RightBrain fullness of soul
remains ZeroZen timeless re-identification
with one empty homeless side
without exterior shelter.
But, for how long could eternity reweave
temporary housed DNA souls
becoming Earth's healthy resilient lifeline?
Advent invites homeless nurturing adventures
into matriarchal kindness, silent advances
into wildly blind blizzards
binding sun's enchanting rainbow promise
watering returns to Earth's temporary spring sanctuary
refueling DNA's homeless
yet robust
absence of perpetually living boundaries
Toward, rather than against, Earth's healthy wealth
future identity transgenerating
transubstantiating temporary sanctuaries
in humane health-identity space,
Earth's co-arising sacred time
of ego's non-sectarian summer
for ecology's ecstatic climate climax.
Mutually homeless failing falling theology pilgrims,
EgoYang and EcoYin polypathic souls
overshadowed
by Earth's great green sanctuary
assigned to re-study timeless regenetic root systems
playing WinWin ZeroSoul revolutionary games
for homeless trusted identity, sheltering
from wildly wounded wandering
within chronic asylum anxiety,
Lost in lonely inside forests
quaking,
outside breaking
patriarchal fake-sanctuary voices
inside cooperative matriarchal wombing choices.
A lot of cold windy Dad talk
trumped
in each infant WinWin womb
by Mom's resolute inside nutritional walk.
Homeless ego child
re-connecting inside this eco-womb,
preparing to journey home again
by sacred light of wintry advent's dawn
After thanksgiving days
and depressing night
re-awakening surprise
of ego's wandering
health-rooted adventurous soul
revolution dawning in darkest brights.
1. Short beautiful minutes in this bar stack
my body rhythms, felt in the next block
on senses, the salad energizes
my inner pricks, in need of a tincture
forget the menu, she’s my bill of fair.
pretty damsel I know it’s a first date
since the beginning, I have kept the wait
my anger is dead even if you’re late
my creative plans have been well creamed by fate
let our desires act like close mates.
2. Gulping her exhibition so flashy
as my loose mind wrong-foot her emotions
the will to know what’s next unhooks its heat
after the drinks should be seamless kisses
my advances she bans as licentious
we can make this dinner more than a date
modesty and formality should wait
so let’s tarry my dear till it is late
and follow the new script written by fate
as this proudly puts me above my mates.
3. Her senses electrify in doubles
she’s giving me wrong headed reactions
as they gang up to be monolithic
on this feeling, acting the pied piper
first time chilling needs no alacrity.
She makes it so sexy, what’s today’s date?
history colours itself, time cannot wait
everything is in check, we can’t be late
this could be destiny or our fate
b’cos our hearts are becoming mates.
4. Her decency spanks my curiosity
suppressing my full light to a dip switch
this attitude attracts strong reprisal
the hope for next meeting reinforces
but the after-play still non-existent.
It isn’t a crime to extend this date
it’s just the first stage sir, she said let’s wait
I like the morals, the timing is late
one person alone cannot decide our fate
she still chose the movies and not to mate.
Bridge x 4
The first, the tenth, what difference does it make?
That probability, the mind takes
your ‘No’ surely makes this dinner seem fake.
Chorus
Pretty damsel I know it’s a first date
since the beginning, I have kept the wait
my anger is dead even if you’re late
my creative plans have been well creamed by fate
let our desires act like close mates.
Chorus
It isn’t a crime to extend this date
it’s just the first stage sir, she said let’s wait
I like the morals, the timing is late
one person alone cannot decide our fate
she still chose the movies and not to mate.
I came home to Mom's house,
After being booted out of Dad's,
And though they called me the Mouse,
I had grown into a strapping young lad,
A high school student who never fit in,
I was a loner and an outcast,
You could find me outside smoking,
Trying to defeat my sordid past,
But once in a while,
Trouble just came my way,
There was one unusual rile,
Let me tell you about that day,
It started the day before,
When a gang cut in line,
And hit my little brother,
When I stepped up this time,
They got mad and decided,
To kick me while I was sitting alone,
Hit in the back I jumped up and asked,
Which loser kicked me in the back bone,
Silence that day was all I got,
But the next day I found the truth,
For the guy who kicked me in the lot,
Was now walking with a cast upon his foot.
They came at me once again,
Calling me out to fight the leader,
And he asked me to fight him,
Behind the gym and in his fever,
He wanted to take my life,
For humbling him at lunchtime,
They would pull their knives,
Gang up on me in this fight,
But I told him no,
Fight me right here and now,
Come on let's go,
Let's have our showdown,
Right here in front of everyone,
And his gang started to form behind him,
And I began to fear as they reached a dozen,
But I stood there firm and grim,
Ready to take them all on,
And suddenly fear crossed their faces,
Then one by one they were done,
Leaving his side they left empty places,
And soon they all left,
Including my adversary,
And I was amazed at this gift,
In the face of a certain beatdown, victory!
Then as I turned to leave I found,
The reason the gang ran away that day,
For behind me stood dozens of kids from town,
Who were tired of the gang and their evil ways,
So when you believe you are all alone,
You may be the one person who,
Can bring people along,
When others are acting the fool.
How does a kid who loves learning come to hate a place designed for teaching?
School was like a military prison in my experience
get in at 0900 hours sharp with no resistance,
you'll speak when you are spoken to,
you are inferior to anyone older than you,
shut up and mindlessly accept what we tell you or you will be punished,
I don't care that you say 2+2 is 4 when I say its 3 then its 3
I am right because you are smaller than me
How does a kid who loves learning come to hate a place designed for teaching?
The innocent excitement of a child who is learning
crushed under the cold weight of authoritarian might
you better shut up and keep out of sight
because if you dont fit into the picture of what you should be
loneliness in the corridor is all you will see
And its not just the teachers who want you to conform
anyone whose different the other children will scorn
Don't get too far ahead or the teacher will give you no time
and the kids will take note and you'll be the blunt of the next malious rhyme.
How does a kid who loves learning come to hate a place designed for teaching?
The desperation of tying to understand a system that feels opressive
that everyone says is so good for you its impressive
that simultaneously tells you that the things that you love most
are too unusual for this educational host
and if you and the other kids arent the same you better fight
before they gang up on you and start to bite
How does a kid who loves learning come to hate a place designed for teaching?
They say all of your passions can't fit into the picture
while they force me to read often incorrect literature
They say your only goal in life is to get a job
and make somebody rich who you think is a n*b
The teachers in school think of you as a fool
destined to be just another industry tool
It's amazing how lazy people
make up excuses for themselves
it's never their fault
when the work doesn't get done
The power of girls
lies in the back door of gossip
they gang up in teams
gossiping destroying reputations
but play the innocent when caught
it wasn't me
the words of lies echo through
the halls of contempt
you can spend your life
trying to help people
yet unless they want
to help themselves
your time is wasted
on people that are lazy
and don't want to work
your time is precious
Life is so short
each time you stop to help another
is time you could have used
to help yourself
To stop and teach someone else
is time you could have used on yourself
you could have been a student
climbing higher on the tides of education
yet time is never wasted
being kind
helping others
makes a better world
but sometimes
no matter how you help
it's never enough
because they don't want
to help themselves
oh how many excuses
I'm not clever enough
yet if you don't read the book
You can't know the answer
knowledge is built up with study
if you don't read about anatomy
you can't know about anatomy
granted some people are gifted
they don't need to study
as much as others
to build the foundations of knowledge
you won't build a career
playing games on Facebook
you don't build respect
being too lazy to work
Alice plummets down the hole, a fallin’ to no end,
She mumbles to herself these words, for she’s without a friend:
>>Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats? Do bats eat cats?> It hurts, by George, it hurts…
It hurts a million times and more and then it hurts again!> Hot cross buns, hot cross buns.
One a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns.<<
Is there no balm in Gilead? for here I can’t find none.
Even now my grammar appears to come undone!
Zuzuangel, dances the dazzling streets of Rio.
Her red hair, shines in the moonlight.
Attracting only the finest to her.
She wears studded gold sandals, those sexy feet,
cannot stop dancin to the Jobim, Bossa Nova Beat.
The outside cafes, the weather divine,
This is Zuzu’s time to be out and about, plus to
radiantly shine.
Her inner-soul, you see, has a rain-bowed, inviting
glow.
Wherein the river of her inner poetry does both rise
and flow.
That inner peace, is her fortress, where she truly
cannot be touched.
And any fool, who intimidates her-will be at once,
directly be rebuffed!
It does no good to intimidate, crush or
gang up on any poet’s soul.
The fate for any who so so?
When you harm any of God’s children,
in a monsoon of your own arrogance
you are eternally lost and tossed.
Your vanity, will kill you so high and mighty
you are.
Forgetting each poet is part of
God’s creative star!
11/18/2021
Pangie still in Trauma Center.
Learning to walk and stand.
Sorry, I am constantly around.
Commenting time is at
a minimimum..
I went in the woods one day
Grabbed myself a stick,
I shook it one too many times
Then landed backwards in the crick.
I looked over my shoulder
And guess what I saw,
Little tiny rabbits
Standing with maw and paw.
They hopped everywhere
I couldn't believe my eyes,
Noticed my clothes were all soaked
Then I began to rise.
There were so many rabbits
Too many, I couldn't count,
I looked over them carefully
I couldn't believe the amount.
I shook my stick at them
More appeared out of nowhere,
It was just me and my stick
That was rather unfair.
They happened to gang up on me
The more I shook my stick,
I think I peeved them off
When I tried to run, rather quick.
They pounced on my head
So many tiny rabbits,
Never go into the woods
And threaten a rabbit, with a stick.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
June.20/2005
NEVER SHAKE A STICK AT A RABBIT BECAUSE YOU HAVE MORE RABBITS THAN YOU CAN SHAKE A STICK AT. LMAO
Let's pretend we are one,
Let's pretend that we are done.
Throw the coin into the ditch,
Been told that life's a glitch.
Swallow the lies and drown them in sorrow,
Withered down in pitiness for tomorrow.
Let the sun take it's place,
Among the stolen race.
Sucked up love and heavensent,
Killed in blood and sin, the blood's been spent.
Alone and an evermore of feeling of pain,
I hope I'll make it, way back to Maine.
Stumble along the loneliness of this road,
Watch the frogs gang up in the pond, to kill that toad.
Feet sore, they can barely walk,
Mouth so dry, it feels frozen and barely can talk.
Let's pretend to be alive,
Let's pretend as though we were five.
Let's pretend we weren't on our graves,
Let's pretend we can't feel the angry waves.
Let's pretend we aren't dying,
Let's pretend it's joy for the reason we are crying.
Let's pretend this isn't my last breath,
Let's pretend we can't feel this death.
an attentive passerby can hear the full bloom raucous
gardens have been awakened by the iridescent sun
tulip orchids, with their gray-green leaves of glaucous
heed to chimes of silver and blue bells, rivalry has begun
in full flower, cherry blossoms bask in their self-satisfied beauty
exotic birds of paradise scoff, deeming uniqueness more pleasing
rainbow irises snicker at dahlias, labelling them snooty
lilacs and hyacinths gang up on jasmine with their teasing
competition is fierce, as crocus and primrose compete
impatiens can’t wait to hear who gets the “first spring flower” title
***** willows attempt to tame the tiger lilies, but face defeat
the gerberas were right; this will be one lively spring recital
April 09, 2012
For CONTEST - where have all the flowers gone (Lisa Hiatt)