Long Ill mannered Poems
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There is someone who taught me so much today
So bad to know that he is a mad gay
Oh he called me moron for some reason
It was a desperate move as wild as a treason
He spoke to people how ill mannered I am
But I remain to be silent, I don' want to kill his glam
But let me try to think who is better and worse
Is it the one who played around or the one who was like a horse?
I don't owe him a stack of explanation
Said a joke but it was his poor interpretation
His bullets were tough but it was not good enough
Don't make my world worst or his life will get rough...
Just to make things clear, I don't need a hate
I know that I'm ten times better and he is probably late...
Kindness is something you never do
You keep pulling people down, that's what you do
Stop saying about what's right and wrong
Get your life back, don't sing my song
If you live in bitterness, don't drag me to hell
Just like I do, you also make mistakes well
Lei Strauss 2017
Even it is painful to see my country
I keep my inner wounds within myself
Because bad people love to put salt
In a wounds place for ointment
Envy hurt people's feeling
They inflect sadness instead of joy
This makes people hate each other
Too much intelligence sometimes makes leaders crazy
They don't want spokesman for themselves
He wants to manage his own political affairs by himself
But when he gets wrong he blame his opponent in doing so
Putting ill mannered-mistakes to make white to black
Or black to white and shared to the people as sentiments
The fabricated lies to others broadcast to sensationalizing
Silent dictatorship choke the people to revolution
Flowing the street with dissatisfaction with anger
People shouting for peace, propaganda and rage
Toppling the current administration to step out
But the Devil is holding power, money and influence
To hell with you people as the crocs said
Wait for the next election no more
Conniving powers from three branches is democracy
This is authoritarianism, silent martial law period
The leftist is silent for they are inception to cohort
Became the attack dog to the good politician
Money really hide what is decency and truth
The oligarch are profiting all the favor
Their business flourish in high degree price hike
The consumers are nowhere to protest the abuses
Where are the justice now, where are we fighting for
Where are our the generals, the defender of the masses
They are silent, money is the facemask to their mouth
I wonder where progress seen, good governance will be
I wonder why, I can cry is silence, gnashing my teeth
I wonder where the patriots will seek patronage
Where would the ordinary people will find solace
Where will my next generation hold its strength
Where will our nation take pride for independence
Where will our politician become our true leader
When will God intervene the affairs of men
Where will my people end its suffering, please tell me when.
The group of brown headed cowbirds I hope is migratory
I really don't want them staying in my yard
They are parasitic and can be devastating for other species
As they are lazy or sorry or ill mannered or whatever term is correct
They lay their eggs in another bird's nest
That mom or the two parents are not any wiser
And they feed and look after those eggs
Just as though they were their own
However, the cowbird is usually larger
And starve their other nest mates
Cruel, uncaring might be a better word
For the parents of those little offsprings
I know they don't think ahead
Because if they did they might figure it out
If their eggs are hatched, then their chicks fed
The other bird population gradually dies out
Then what???
They might have to go to work....
Then that could be the end of the birds upon this earth
“I hold a delightful being and an undesirable being inside of me.
It’s up to you which one you meet”
~~The Poet~~
dismally destructive
yet charmingly creative
unabatedly chaotic
obligatorily perfection
unsophisticatedly naïve
graciously worldly wise
uncouth and ill-mannered
poised etiquette
audaciously rude
enticingly eloquent
unsuitably slovenly
exactingly efficient
decked in Shabby attire
styled with cultured couture
disheveled, dingy
polished, well-groomed
in company of many in ill-repute
thoroughbred acquaintances
robotically draconian
artistically graceful
The Siren of fate
lures you onto the rocks
Her beauty enticing
while masking what’s not
A shipwreck of horrors
that’s not what it seems
Luring you onward
away from your dreams
A phantom discovery
a fool’s masquerade
Its promising temptress
an ill mannered charade
And once you discover
your mortality is near
You flail and you panic
while sinking in fear
The distance you’ve traveled
at a liars demand
Weighs heavy as you manage
one last spoken command
Shouting out to your comrades
to stay where they are
Searching only within
—for that beckoning star
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
Grandpa the Master Magician
Grandpa was old and creaked
like a well-worn floorboard
but he always carried a smile with him
which generally won the day or the situation.
He had just spent time with his two grandchildren
which had added fun to his morning’s recipe.
They saw Grandpa as this master magician
capable of producing an egg from either nostril
..…. boiled or not.
An eggcellent start to any day!!
Later, on an icicle of an afternoon
and confronted by a presumptuous wind
which blew him around street corners;
he found himself happily chasing his youth.
Newspaper and chocolate treat acquired
he set off for the finishing line of home.
He noted that the traffic lights were changing to red!
So, although not at the proper crossing, his GPS
i.e. Grandpa’s Priority Selector
was saying…GO! GO! GO!
However so was a fast-approaching Fiat 500!
Grandpa felt validated by time and experience so..
he sailed forth but time and his knees didn’t agree.
His legs instead of speeding up, started slowing down
which was the exact opposite of the flying Fiat,
driven ruthlessly by a manic-panicked driver
who exaggerated a swerve around Grandpa
with arms orchestrating her extremely annoyed thoughts.
Grandpa tottered on oblivious to the orchestrations.
He felt composed being lean, leathery and learned
as opposed to the driver’s ill-fed, ill-bred, ill-mannered approach.
However Grandpa, the master magician, wasn’t to be thwarted
so as his feet touched pavement, his hand touched cap,
then his winning smile and a flicked wave of politeness.
The driver just continued with her orchestration of
Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony in C Minor
while mouthing, “Is your brain on holiday!”
However life was to offer Granpa a final judgement
for as the traffic lights winked from red to green
our driver was still in a boil of botheration until…
a honk of reprimand from behind grabbed her attention.
Frustrated she tried to floor the accelerator pedal
but only succeeded in stalling the engine.
The horn hoots and toots began queuing up
until the Fiat 500 burnt rubber and swivel-hipped away.
Grandpa’s face showed not a flicker of amusement
but he allowed his bones to enjoy the moment -
particularly the funny one!
Then the wind giggled up, clapped him on the back
and then kindly blew him gently home!
she pips in fear for lateness like her peers,
hauteur cloaked with reticence,
her-boo-boo-vague, though walled around and palpable
official Narcissist disguised in rude affronts
Bravado of naughtiness in candour yet tacit
“Free me to free me”, rants in melancholy
as ignorance upsets sorts of sort
Insensibility of differentiating as angels often tastes the gall
By routines of cataract long glare
Sends nostalgia down their spines
Though forgetting the milk and candies of supposed rivals
Doubling as friends in conning angst beggarly in their nature
Nagging and ganging a gang of gossipers
Finding Mutual grounds for their victims
Causing higgledypiggledy where there exist no war
For a suspected compromise of morals
Or a hunting taint of a past paints on Z walls
Where decorum is not a schoolmaster
As official time wastes in visits to motels at un-break break time
With holy bible at desk view to mask hypocrisy
First venerable “Etis” Migrants tasted buds of vinegary as noised by witnessing chauffeur
And guilt cautioned not her thigh with an avalanche of showy attire of a seductress
advertorials of “buried innocence” jagged in curved carbuncle front and back
Banging shoes in unending visits secreted in kitchen
double-faced, loud calls to clients for managerial gratitude
as empty office fill vacuums of fast quickie (sharp-sharp) appointments arranged or rearranged
Ill-mannered, bad-tempered not marriageable, never listen, never patient making enemies
Commandeering, verbose, self-conceited, presumptuous, stout and arrogant
she pips in fear for lateness like her peers,
hauteur cloaked with reticence,
her-boo-boo-vague, though walled around and palpable
official Narcissist disguised in rude affronts
Bravado of naughtiness in candor yet tacit
“Free me free me”, rants in melancholy
as ignorance upsets sorts of sort
Insensibility of differentiate as angels often tastes the gall
By routines of cataract long glare
Sends nostalgia down their spines
Though forgetting the milk and candies of supposed rivals
Doubling as friends in conning angst beggarly in their nature
Nagging and ganging a gang of gossipers
Finding Mutual grounds for their victims
Causing higgledy where there exist no war
For a suspected compromise of morals
Or a hunting taint of a past paints on Z walls
Where decorum is not a schoolmaster
As official time wastes in visits to motels at un-break break time
With holy bible at desk view to mask hypocrisy
First venerable “Etis” Migrants tasted buds of vinegary as noised by witnessing chauffeur
And guilt cautioned not her thigh with avalanche of showy attire of a seductress
advertorials of “buried innocence”jagged in curved carbuncle front and back
Banging shoes in unending visits secreted in kitchen
double faced, loud calls to clients for managerial gratitude
as empty office fill vacuums of fast quickie (sharp-shap) appointments arranged or rearranged
Ill mannered, bad tempered not marriageable, never listen, never patient making enemies
Commandeering, verbose, self-conceited, presumptuous, stout and arrogant
Form:
Oh, my soul,
Why do you always go to pluck that fruit?
Why do you always judge on good and evil?
Why do you always appeal to the intellect?
Why do you always please the senses?
Why are you so arrogant and proud?
Why do you command and dominate?
Why are your traduces crude and rude?
Why are your actions ill mannered and inconsiderate?
Why be loud, boastful, talkative and opinionated?
Why be insecure and afraid?
Why be intimidated and inhibited?
Why be introverted and extroverted?
Critical, judgemental, condescending and condemning!
So self-sufficient, self-reliant, self-motivating, self-seeking –
So much into self-love, self-adoration, self-idolatry, self-worship –
Oh my soul, my selfish soul?
Someone will ask me a question
or bring me into their conversation
asking for my opinion.
Usually I'm met with the same frustration.
I can't get one sentence out without an interruption.
That's when my role in the discussion comes to an end.
Don't drag me into your conversation
if my reply is going to be met with your constant interruptions.
because you're not really interested in what I have to say.
You just want to hear yourself talk all of the way.
Once you interrupt me, the conversation ends
because you're being rude, ill mannered and a major frustration
and you apparently don't possess any self discipline.
We can discuss this another time if you like my friend,
but the conversation will be over after your first and only interruption.