Long Gluttony Poems
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With looks of celestial damsel
On mission of mystery unravel
A fairy flies from foreign land
Fabulously to discover dreamland
With colourful feathers silky
Plumage so soft as cream milky
With a huge brain and physique
Seemingly bereft of travel unique
Marches with her wings vibrant
Only to devote herself on front 1
Space being her intriguing place
With supersonic speed that’s ace
Surmounting all hurdles many
The angel gathers speed gluttony
Hovering over planetoids tiny
Cosmic powers she has bonny
Revolving around many orbits
Surpassing all heavenly bits
Eventually lands on planet afar
Near the superb system of star 2
The landing leaves no stone unturned
For she knows her vision churned
Deep insight and attitude awesome
Make her an alien winsome
Tidy looks and trendy gait
Extremely stunning to catch and get
Her device offers a beverage strange
That has unique aura and rage
Pinkish perfect pure porridge
The cosmic food it seems from fridge 3
Tailor-made for her specific physique
Is the space suit with electro-magnetic
Induction full speed and winsome
Mere touch causes sparkle wowsome
A protective shield made of an alloy
Thus making her a space decoy
Satellites she whirls like a key chain
Space capsules she twirls on her mane
An enormous angel from an alien abode
Now at my solar system crossroad 4
What could be her mission possible!
Has been my subject of marvel
Is it to bring apocalypse fatal
Or just to revamp my earth petal
Before her I am like a neo natal
What to do to know her mettle
Time passes and she starts
To peruse my earth full of arts
Wonders at the seas and bays
Astonishes at mountains and rays 5
I am now beside myself
As she drills the earth deep herself
Oh soon there comes an mystery man
With torso made of crystal brand
The drilling continues till the dusk
There is a mist and her voice husk
I know it’s their language mutual
Based on the heavenly acts factual
Perhaps the mission is to find gems
In the earth stomach that overwhelms 6
Thus I’m sure she is down for mining
And exploiting the earth for farming
The drill lasts for hours twenty
Finally come out jewels aplenty
Like that of ocean-churn by Gods
Here going on planet-pumping by rods
The purpose is to adjust the axle
Though imaginary-full of miracle
Eventually gathered all gems
Putting axle in firm place 7
Inside a grotto scooped out by a wealthy earl for his seated pleasure,
There sat a bard amidst the edelweiss strung 'round the hole of leisure.
Fallen droplets of acidic water pitter-pattered in echoes across the cave,
Slowly weathering away its leaky limestone layers as would a mason's lathe.
The bard, whose unimportant name shall be dismissed, strung away at his lyre,
Tickling its strings with unclipped fingertips which pick up songs from every wire.
Mediocrity had once been the nemesis to the boyish bard in his recent youth,
But now, after endless nights of practice, his expertise needed little proof.
He grew bored, however, with the memorized music that his body hummed,
From hypnotic and melodic languid limbs, which on their own had strummed.
Seated that evening on the edge of the grotto's bank,
He put down his lyre as both his eyes into the water sank.
"I am but twenty-six years-old and I've already come to master," he pined,
"Trading tales told inside of tunes; what more on Earth for me is there to dine?
Have I drunk the goblet dry in but a gulp?
Have I swallowed the savory pie in but a bite?
And have I been denied, in gluttony, the right to dessert?
Please, oh motherly moon, dearest Selene,
What more is there for my life to mean?"
During his pouting pitiful preponderances of apathetic patheticism,
A scattered image on his own reflection distracted him from his pessimism.
An eidolon of Endymion appeared before the startled bard,
And he held within phantasmal hands a deck of playing cards.
"My name is Endymion and I once walked awoken in Earthen woods,
Until I fell in love with Hera before her husband banished me for good.
I succumbed to an endless and dreamless slumber, but I can now see,
You fear you already lived your life and will be put to rest like me.
Yet life is but a game of Pitch, there are highs and lows and jacks and game,
Which is scored in not one hand but rounds whose cards will never be the same.
You've played your hand well in an entertaining trade, as you have felt,
So now its time to shuffle the deck and play with cards that've yet been dealt."
With that the ghost of Endymion drifted back into his eternal sleep,
And the bard in the grotto grinned and eagerly forgot why he did just weep.
As moonlight threatens
the night's ebon cloak.
A blistering thought
has kept me woke.
This thought so vile
so terribly grim,
yet so fulfilling
to my every whim.
I leave the warmth of my bed chamber
and into the cold damp street.
To quench this gnawing craving
deep in my heart so deep.
As I pass strolling strangers,
I turn up collar to cutting air.
They seem oblivious to dangers
and look through me, as thou I were not there.
I walk with purpose like a hunter,
deep in the dark wood.
In search of a sacred something
so sweet, delicate and good.
Finally I duck into a small cafe,
where I have had success in past.
Snaring unsuspecting prey,
to star in this role that must be cast.
I slide so stealth into vacant booth.
Where I'm forced face to face,
with this moment's
moment of truth.
My waitress smiles and pours
a tall, thick cup of Joe.
I find myself blowing and sipping
very carefully and very slow.
And there one of Zeus' daughters parked
with one hand playfully twisting her golden hair.
The other gently cutting with a fork
a delightful chocolate Eclair.
I watched ever longingly
as her lips caressed every delicious bite.
It was then and there I knew
my chosen victim of this night.
Then she stood up
so regal yet so fair,
paid and looked at me,
with a pure endearing stare.
She then walked out the door
and gently out of sight.
Disappearing like a sweet vapor
into the misty mystic night.
As her perfume soon left
the now sad lonely air.
I asked my lovely waitress
for a tempting chocolate Eclair.
So she sorrowfully informed me
that the lovely lady had had the last.
I then had to alter my well laid plans,
and alter them rather fast.
With heart frantically beating and beating,
and the search of the menu repeating and repeating,
for a substitute to satisfy.
And there for my appetite at last
the words "Lemon Meringue Pie."
Now so graciously placed before me,
this heaven's little slice.
With every taste teasing and pleasing,
I decided to try it twice.
As I took the last bite stalling,
I could hear my conscious calling.
I told self we'll pay Piper tomorrow,
but tonight I'm feeding gluttony and drowning sorrow.
9/25/18
*Image of Child Sad Suffering provided by Pixabay.
Not Of This Earth
Poetic Form: Narrative
Asymmetric mistrals warp speckled vaporous pallidness toward rhythmless voids. Obviates an evacuating azure as a midday star pivots to a twilight qualm. Numinous absent souls of supine prying pupils, yon ethers sinister obscurities, caught in stained oblique ocular whites. Drunken sanguineous veins to gluttony as impish tinkers sporadic doubts riveting telltale images. Metallic aerials ousted the clouds to unperceived iniquity.
Exhausting times since the alien armada infested Earth in a furrow of carnage. Abominable hordes disembarked, eviscerated whole metropolises. Hideous beings, an abysmal sight, smothered the remote vestiges of our civilized world. Cities ere their decimation had numbers reduced in fleeing desperation. The annihilation of life on Earth engrossed thoughts upon the scraps of humanity left. Ravenous creatures generating utter rampage to and abroad, slighting none to decay. Be they mortals or breathing existences of our lesser kingdom, perished in the bloodletting. Some kept as breeders for the succession of consuming time.
A cohort strung of plain folks, thrust as one in a nameless realm, sought ephemeral refuge in a subterranean hollow expanse. Bestill for the scarcity of fragile credence as the intrepid one, espy a grotesque glistening of crimson blood, secreting from the sheathed hoariness of fangs. Sentient rouses heedful footfalls per monstrosity exposed jawbone, that swapped shrill for snorts, neath laden eyes that had shrewdly scowling luminous orbs. Creepy anvils pierced hairline, afeared incus, sensitively measures close octaves, spurs the labyrinth's nerves. Alas, its vulgar pelt of bulky fur stretch hither and fro, bars clamors reach.
Cavernous chambered partitions mimic as trepidation ebbs nevertheless. Unceasing progress to that bemused destiny, as anonymous atrocities, plague each within their shells, e'er crucifying the last semblance of their true selves. Ardent impulses seeping via their lithe ruby channels, crossing neath the bits of their betraying skins, as they escape the nebulous sepulchral. Beasts at 6 o'clock, tho' what unknown lurks yon pits facade, save a future yet to be titled.
2021 May 12
They wage war on the poor
Selling their souls what for
But for gluttony and greed
Dissension is what they breed
Harmony and discord
A duality we can't afford
People die on the street
Chilled to the bone, no heat
No bread, no bed
So they commit suicide instead
And the system is so corrupt
A melting pot is ready to erupt
Boomers failed the youth
Doomers birthed who know the truth
16.07 is the living wage
But 7.25 has us locked in a cage
And we work hard to line their pockets
Yachts, mansions, pensions, and rockets
Racial tension is their weapon
So we don't collectively unify and step in
They say work hard and achieve American dreams
But the reality is not what it seems
Connections grant privilege to the rich like royalty
As they demand we stand for the flag and show loyalty
I'm tired of being a stepping stone and I'm not alone
And this is what we've been shown
Epstein didn't kill himself we know
Another death to protect those in power and another low
America grows darker by the hour
So in a moment of clarity
There is no peace and prosperity
This is a raw deal and we need a green new deal
Because I'm tired of being a spoke on the wheel
Illiteracy is on the rise and that's our demise
Because they can feed us their lies
They blame us and claim we have no ambition
But survival is the majority's mission
Stuck paycheck to paycheck until we're dead
And those who care get shot in the head
I beg you to put your hand on your chest
Against your beating heart are we doing our best
Laws against sleeping in the car, sleeping on the sidewalk
These don't fix the problem but we can't talk
Because they balk and say you should have done better
Anything to lick the boots of the debtor
But despite all of my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage
Soon to be a forgotten footnote, a faded page
And that wheel is going to keep turning
As American lives go up in flames we're burning
But that hatred is twisting deep inside
And revolution is what we need if I must confide
The system is built on a foundation of failure, it's broken
But our passion and fury has been awoken
For this is our watershed moment to stave off calamity
After discouraging decades of enmity
So if they must wage war on the poor
We'll wage war on a system we abhor
12/20/21
Ten hut!
Can't let up
Even though, it can get messed up
Really F'd up
Do not get fed up
Keep your head up
Stay sharp, don't get set up
Careful where a disagreement ends up
Heads up!
Many fast to wet up
From the legs up
To the neck up
Bleeding out a color similar to Ketchup
The proof was there or quickly got swept up
Prices continually went up
Falling behind, because you never kept up
Get your bread up
Often in life you'll have to step up
Sped up
Engines revved up
Couldn't let it go, so they dredge up
Old news they spoke and penned up
But I did my homework and read up
So you're about to get shred up
You'll never surface, even after a check up
Kept mine, others went against their own word
Too late to sojourn
At the point of no return
Due to a slow burn
Often went through the wringer
You'd think I've been on Jerry Springer
She wants the whole world and a gem on her finger
Meanwhile around the corner death always lingers
Hit them with another zinger
Hook, line and sinker
As I continue to tinker
Ya'll can be some stinkers
I always put on a blinker
Soon to give up being a daily drinker
Becoming a complex thinker
Avoiding any gold diggers
Feeling vigor
It's time I'm onto something bigger
Don't need to reconsider
Even though many are quick to pull the trigger
People continuing to bicker
Remaining bitter
Known as a fibber
Caught up on twitter
It's been pleasant or gotten sicker
Going well or down the s***ter
Staying clean or full of litter
A whole nation hooked
Easily getting cooked
And forsook
They never caught on or looked
Strength, dedication and heart is what it took
Couldn't find it all from a book
Had to put each foot
Through miles of soot
By the end they were shook
Or tried to portray me as a crook
Not a big fan of dungarees
Getting tired of all this gluttony
Too much redundancy
And puppetry
Still living sucker-free
Yet another attempted to humble me
So I got the upper hand suddenly
Their soul the devil took custody
I continued on triumphantly
Cautious of who's around as company
She's just a tease
And he's such a sleaze
Try to touch my cheese
Then the trigger of a gun I squeeze
Doesn't matter if you run or freeze
At first he was pitied for being enchanted by the necromancer. For it was obvious that he was lonely and misunderstood. His followers still wanted so deeply to believe he had some goodness inside of him - despite his emerging inability to demonstrate attributes of the "human condition." But as he sailed deeper and deeper into the abyss of her chasm, he became more and more unrecognizable as the Son of his Mother and Father, or dare say, a Brother to any other living soul.
It became clear that he was destined to be with this humanity-eater. He was drawn to the grafting with such force that no showing of love or faith could retain him; and they became united as devourers of souls.
While he believed himself to be the provider, the malignant parasite gorged the remnants of humanity from his flesh. She consumed his life-force with gluttony then reciprocated with exorcised fecal remains - because even her own vile carcass could not tolerate the waste product of this symbiosis… He became a scavenger worshiping at her deadly fins. And as he foraged from the scraps of false affections tossed at him with cloaked antipathy, what he refused to know was that he cannibalistically fed on himself.
This is why he now gleams reason from madness. And why he believes there is light from shadows. For when you become as empty as this, even your reflection disappears… and the blackened silhouette of a once human form is all that remains.
And even on this day, although his disdain is common truth, hearts still bleed deeply with remorse. To be clear, however, there is no mourning for him. Rather, tears are wept from the loss of hope once felt for him – and they flourish the sea which now casts him apart from humanity.
Does hope really float? When things are at their darkest and heaviest on our heart – is hope what gives us light, and keeps us light so that even during the most desperate of journeys it guides us through and keeps us from sinking into darkness?
Or does hope simply shine truth that darkness is an inevitable counterbalance?
He has always been only an apparition of a man by mankind’s standards; with a soul tethered to darkness. And his shadow is now only seen through reflections in the puddles of hopeful eyes.
A former slender man (lapsed Unitarian anorexic)...
deplores adipose tissue gain
No Holiday music can soothe savage beast
washboard abdomen weight watcher's dream fleeced
skinny bag of lovely bones permanently leased
body snatcher somewhere amidst policed
madding crowd of carolers singing,
where mine sinking spirits ceased
rising today December 18th, 2020
analogous how unleavened bread
(i.e. matzo) lacks yeast.
I loathe shucking clothes,
(no matter eyes severely myopic)
in preparation for here goes
another warm shower quickly
relaxing this senescent
body ready to doze
soon after lathering
this blubbery body
most unwanted fat grows
on me, no matter healthy diet
of worms, or how I stand,
not so easy (Etsy) as add a pose
zing losing battle – Mary Jo's
if and geeze us of bulge ill flattering
particularly quiverly, sans white
"WALL" tire tread fully goes
steely belted around lower
abdominal area like lava floes
siring unsightly expose
yore squishy Jew dish priestly
punchy, plasma paunchy, gristly...
pillow like marshmallows
fittingly, rotundly soundly
identical with other schlep
tin (tin tabulation) grungy hobos,
this lap pissed lard (lord) Who Lee
bemoaning, how ilk readily knows,
where unwanted bulky flab...
most detested - hence Corp Yule Lance
leaves noth thin to noblesse oblige,
know bull eats obese,
anorexia nervosa or chance
barking out orders reminiscent, when he
hapt tubby a caller wannabe at
weekly square and/or contra dance,
now requisitioned to insulate
and excessively enhance
body electric can be mushed
into likeness of fleshy France
or repurposed into expanse
resembling any country,
whose name Kants
be easily pronounced, and historical
events glommed together recognizable
as Ataturk with a lance
bequeathed to rule World advance
sing gluttony as his divine providence,
thus requires deep dish allegiance
(non - fiber - binding contract)
for eats and make decadent
every fleshpot gourmand
stretching consumer cellular
skein to capacitance
bestowing guaranteed deliverance
with their rolling
ballooning massive circumference
into orbit with Earthly moon officiant
eternal fondue irrelevance!
Adjusting Appetizing Palates.
I have sampled the variety,
I am the one who has tasted life;
The one who has had a taste of life.
Rarely indulged in the main course-
Seldom a full meal-
I come hungry-
To leave satisfied...
I want more substance.
Sampled the world on wooden toothpicks.
I have had itty bits of everything.
Piecemeal offerings to try entice my loyalty.
Old ladies with new recipes passing
them around on trays in supermarkets of the world.
I come back for more free samples.
The more I have traveled the more
I have sampled life.
Moi-Moi- and peanut butter stew.
I have tasted life with different seasonings and spices -
Tried a variety of cultural dishes - Some bland, some spicy
Tried the soul food of each one's pride as
I swallowed mine.
I have never gained control of my soul.
It wandered with me sampling life on platters.
Now desirous of healing-fish soup.
I wanted more – Traveled;
Partook of more –
Tasting life's offerings from the - rich to the poor.
Drank out of Chrystal as well as tin cups.
I have eaten from Chinaware,
and drank from gourds,
I have supped on
Hors-d'oeuvre and canapes';
Inner-voices led me to hot rocks and tepees—
Sweat camps with medicinal potions.
Tasting life in places where strange
medicine men reside.
I have eaten rice in 2000 languages.
In Asian and Indian tongues.
I swapped collard greens for callaloo;
Then stepped up to taste breadfruit -
Filled up on Ackee and Saltfish a
Exotic palatable dish.
Though never full off of life –
Not gluttony statutes yet, I have done
more than get my “whistle wet"
Still, I am glad:
“Oh, how grateful to be alive”.
Able to sample the tender morsels
of appetizers so fine.
Even though I am a
Connoisseur of fine wine.
…and have enjoyed plenty
tidbits of earth’s great bounty--
In this life.
I have supped in the finest cuisines.
Treated royally as if I were a queen.
I have supped in mansions,
or sat, an ate under exotic trees;
Yet, there is nothing so satisfying-and no one abler.
As to be back in the hood, trying not to go berserk;
Waiting for a slice of Sweet Potato pie for dessert.
After getting my grub on, at Grandmas table.
In a Perfect World, the world would have to be just so - perfect!
On the sixth day of creation God said to his Son, ALL things are
perfectly good - in both heaven and on earth!
The Father created this globe, called earth, perfect and serene,
And then he created humankind - man, *****sapiens, human beings.
But on earth, fallen angels beaten out of the heavens,
Now called demons, possess and inhabit weak and corrupt minds,
To do things that were never heard before in older times!
Since then God's patients get tried over and over, and some repent on a daily
Basis, only to sin again not long after, with the slightest provocation.
Some have a clear idea what fellowmen do, and without finishing a sentence;
They can finish it off for you, far removed from the topic at hand!
In a logical sense, a Perfect World would have to be just so - perfect.
Looking around in Nature where there was no sin, tourists visit "paradise"
A hope for all mankind fine beaches, beautiful flowers, shrubs and trees.
What would man's realm be like if the first couple had not sinned?
Astronomers, moon-gazers, nature-watchers and sky-gazers
Photograph the awesome bodies of galaxies of stars, circling moons,
And transient stars which pitch and zoom across the sky.
Some of us have witnessed such a sight!
A World is on its way, pure in Thought, Word and Deed
With loving thoughts for fellowmen, regardless of race, color or creed.
Men will have pure worship, love for neighbor, without covetousness,
Greed, gluttony or selfishness.
Just imagine a Perfect World without envy, jealousy, malice, hate
or "payback" time!
Living together under The Creator's perfect rule - no pain, sorrow, suffering, sickness or death. These will all be things of the past!
New Names, opened Scrolls, one Language again world-wide (Nimrod caused different languages to be in place now) and singing a new song;
Waiting to teach those rising from the dead, as we go teaching the living about
The coming end, as Noah once did.
Long life, healthy living and out-living 800 year old trees,
A thing some will experience in the not too distant future
In God's Perfect World, his Kingdom to come!