Long Infractions Poems
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They write in the language of perfume
flowery powdered words all layered
colours rising and lowering
in different light spectrums
as if the reader could discern
without wisened translator
their seductive dimensions
conveyed within
their small larger other worlds
notes upon notes, heady notes,
their subtle infractions
like music tinkling through
the brain bleeds, poets
and their otherworldly refrains,
naphthalene aired for old time’s sake
shaken out like clean crisp white sheets
billowing in the translucent lingerie breeze,
bedrocks shaken
the little flocks
small black murders flying
provocatively erratic stirred up
off the cobalt page
into an evocative
higher wider
elusive space
taken shockingly aback
where the heady blast
of Spirit of Hartshorn
shakes buried lover’s awake
to walk barefoot and naked
blindly in love
touching each other
through the long wet days
sugar-coated addictions
tall poppies crimson pimpernels
wading nubile through blades
of silver moon grass
licking their ankles and heels
raising their prim outskirts,
forbidden territories
within the rising mist,
the ever present,
like a breeze,
kisses their ripe
cherry orchards
unending hunger
satiated, all is manna
as they meander
through daze of
dusky dawn valleys
those garden of eden thighs,
the transparent,
slithering like hands
caressing treasure trunks
ivy leaves for plucking
further up above
the high waists
to touch what
wastes away, unheard,
what beats there,
where the crown sits
like some holy being
under its ribbed cage
red ripe like a seeded apple,
that place, just there, beating
singing some kind of hymn,
like a regulated anthem,
they're way up into their feels
like some devilish chase
like heaven's come
calling them away
They write in the language of perfume
flowery powdered words all layered
colours rising and lowering
in different light spectrums
as if the reader could discern
without wisened translator
their seductive dimensions
some things are better
left unsaid
like this Magdalene,
K.I.S.S.
Candide Diderot. ‘24
Four students arrive late to school every day.
Downtown has allowed them to attend our school
Although they live two or three towns away
They are definitely ruining our attendance
They are loud and proud.
Demanding this, that and the other.
Arrogant and rude like their parent.
We have only met one, but she is a trip.
We say nothing, allowing these infractions to happen daily
It seems crazy to me, and yet I am not in charge.
I wonder sometimes if these children live in this state.
I keep my mouth shut.
Not my business
And since I live in a different state
Not my tax dollars either
You are one cruel hearted man.
One too many for my life span.
You have inflicted one too many abuses.
I am so tired of your lousy excuses!
Whether it be with your mouth, fist, or actions
You found ways to punish for imagined infractions.
It sickens me that I did not leave as soon
As I realized that you always sing the same tune.
You claim that I don't love you enough.
I am not falling for that bit of fluff.
The truth is, it is you that doesn't know how to love
Go on you know this is true what I speak of.
Wrapping your hands around my neck to choke
Because you did not like what I had spoke.
You giving me a black eye
Because you assume what I say is a lie.
Some one says a victim that makes me.
Well I guess we shall see.
I no longer want to be thought of as that.
Survivor...yes I have that down pat.
I survived your endless abuses.
I survived all those bruises.
Victim...me....HELL NO!!!
SURVIVOR that is me. Way to go.
12/28/18
I just received a gift from my {step}mother.
Only three days late this year.
It's a Santa Claus soap dispenser... with a twirl and a twist.
I used to own it, well over twenty years ago.
It has yellow soap still clogging the spigot...
*****, that you've treated old Saint Nick like a {step},
How true to your form and fitting that is.
{Step} Santa was more of a message than a gift.
After all, I've been a half-assed {step}son at best.
But {step}mother, you must admit, I was always your third-class citizen.
From the brackish affection, impish rags you stapled to my rear,
Minor infractions, met with a strap called; I'll reduce you to tears.
You were the metal-toothed snapper in the pond of my youth.
Mother, if you deny this, you're just another abuser of truth!
For the most part, I've freeze-dried your slipperiness,
I think {step} is glacier cold, but a most accurate prefix.
Though no advocate of radical mass stick tummy,
there must needs be
some nonviolent modus operandi and/or
modus vivendi spelling abandonment,
whereby two party bicameral political
system in United States buzzfeed ding,
sans avarice, greed, nepotism... abasement
of sacrosanct principles enshrined in Constitution,
and Declaration of Independence clamor
for immediate attention to weedout,
uproot, stymie... crass, baseles, abhorrent...
exploitation of egregious abuse of power,
particularly of abolishment
vitiating sacred inalienable rights
vaingloriously, mercilessly, diffiantly...
killing (albeit courtesy of skulduggery),
hence requiring abortifacient
to terminate unfair fallout upon heads
(shoulders, knees, and toes)
of middle and lower class
countrymen/women nonabsorbent
to the countless injurious infractions
to manny innocent individuals
forcing vast majority of population
to become abstinent
asper the inherent abstract treasured gems
of life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness,
which once fledgling lucky accident
embarked upon by thirteen original
colonies bestowed opportunities
for migrants one and all to exalt
(amidst setbacks) many an accomplishment
unattainable in their (not so secure)
homeland when avast mecca of pristine
sea and sky invited fiercely
enterprising pioneers accouterment
to be plucked from the land, unfortunately
at mercy of indigenous people
(an unpardonable genocide), which blood,
sweat and tears allowed accruement
justly deserved personal,
or colonial achievement
You point the accusing finger,
For infractions of the rules.
Common sense and understanding,
Oft must bow to a book of rules.
You sit in judgement of the wrong,
Hating evil doers,
Refusing explanations,
As clemencies grow fewer.
When you sit in judgement,
You accept a dreadful task;
For you drink judgement on yourself,
When you drink from that flask.
God will judge the mind and heart,
When're He judges sin.
Man will judge the act alone.
He cannot see within.
So think before you judge someone,
For oft you can't say sorry.
Be certain of the circumstance,
When you are judge and jury.
Now, as a general rule, sergeants are rather decent guys,
Compassionate, reasonable to a degree and uncommonly wise.
But woe to the private who incurs a sergeant's wrath;
That young feller is destined to tread a very treacherous path!
For minor infractions, privates are relegated to the latrine,
To scrub and polish therein to make it squeaky clean!
A prudent private daren't give his sergeant any sass,
Or he'll push a lawnmower, cutting acres of never-ending grass!
If in close-order drill and saluting he is less than deft,
The sergeant will nix his pass, leaving the lad bereft!
Lord have mercy if buttons are missing from his uniform;
That will incite the sergeant into a massive, raging storm!
If he fails barracks inspection, he'd best not make any plans,
For he'll be in the dining hall scrubbing pots and pans!
If his haircut is not up to snuff, that'll add to his plight;
He'll be pacing his post on guard throughout the lonely night!
Although some sergeants are more endearing than many others,
And some it seems could be loved only by their mothers,
A canny private will play the game and abide with all the guff,
Praying his hitch will end, never more to suffer all that fluff!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Can we talk about love in the twilight years
Ain't not no expert I must confess
But the older I get, find myself ogling young ladies
Might even think this old guy's obsessed
Not at all my friends, I can take 'em or leave 'em
Now what the hell am I saying
Prettying up the landscape more than us guys
Hope there's plenty upstairs I'm praying
How boring to live an eternity without ladies
Sure wouldn't look forward to that
Rather go down below where the bad girls are
They'd certainly adjust my thermostat
I've led a clean life for the most part I'd say
But for a couple of minor infractions
Like running around with a bunch of loose women
All part of a young lad's passion
Let's talk about love, a favourite subject of mine
Ain't not no expert I must confess
The older I become, the more decrepit and sad
Going to miss seeing girlies undress
© Jack Ellison 2015
Lifeblood of democracy hemorrhaging
ousting the "FAKE" president only recourse
to staunch impending grim demise,
since forefathers drafted
United States Constitution
ratified more'n two centuries ago
hoi polloi must take to the streets
denouncing severe curtailment
impinging sacred freedom of speech
linkedin with paramount bedrock provision
accessing unvarnished flint stoned "truth,"
nonetheless commander in chief
he quakingly, staunchly, vociferously...
excoriates, lacerates, repudiates...
one damning hermetically sealed,
iniquitous airtight, vacuum packed
flagrant misuse of power,
(not to mention nepotism)
invidious, insidious, injurious... infractions
incontestable, incontrovertible, contemptible...
significant melange in führer
re: hating deplorably
crooked basely barren
factual exposé after another,
deft correspondents all not quiet
along western front
(I heard Maria - mull remark)
bring "to light" execrable,
lamentable reprehensible...
gross transgressions
commander in chief
significantly overstepped
Pulitzer prize winning
prestigious storied publications
scathingly trounced, pillaried,
lambasted, insulted, denounced,
butchered, critiqued, demonized,
fricassed, gored, humiliated,...
pummeled, quartered, reviled
courageously expounding fiend
ensconced within his Taj Mahal
impregnable donjon, whereat he trumpets
laurels asper, nonpareil administration
laying groundless accusations
baring his white fangs,
twittering, naysaying, mocking.. supreme
renown gifted by "honest Abe"
recalcitrant commander in chief,
who refutes objectionable
dogged investigative journalism
every step of the way,
where dedicated news gatherers
risk life and limb
firing line reportage troopers
ferreting (foxlike) he/she
doth gopher precious nuggets
uncover alarming undisputable details
impossible to refute raw bits
agent provocateur freely colluding
immediately hashtashed poppycock
smarmy, snooty, snappy
beastly capital one ogre
blatantly castigating diligent endeavors
oblivious pie in sky
delusional egotistic haughtiness
bobblehead vilified by silent majority.
Listen! Here come the horses,
War machines, a myriad of forces!
'Whitewash', the white horse, is first,
Those deceptive words rehearsed.
Peace as a pretense to conquer,
Glossy until he grows stronger.
'Butcher', the red horse, unleashed,
Civil unrest and sword unsheathed.
Laying claim to the Earth,
Mixing lifeblood with turf.
Black are the ravages of war,
Famine only adds to the score.
The black horse arrives,
His name is... 'Survive'.
But 'Ash' has entered the scene,
The color of corpse, pale-green,
Their progression succinct,
Succumbing to animal instinct.
Fools have staked their claim,
And adorned themselves with shame,
"The Earth belongs to the ‘Best’!"
When the ‘Best’ are merely Guests!
Corrupted to have their own way,
Inferiors they oppress and dismay.
Devouring each other like prey,
Their body and soul He will slay.
Whirling Wheels in the great expanse!
The Davidic King will soon advance!
His Wheelwork is not uncertain,
Make ready for His final curtain!
Listen! Martyrs beseeching their Master,
"When will you avenge this disaster!"
"All must repent or perish,
There's more to be saved, to cherish.
When Messiah returns to avenge,
The Superiors on Earth will cringe,
And hide themselves from My face,
But I will expose their disgrace.
The Day of Our wrath will come,
My adversaries will all be undone!"
Whirling Wheels in the great expanse!
The Davidic King will soon advance!
His Wheelwork is not uncertain,
Make ready for His final curtain!
Listen! A Watchman’s urgent call,
"The Davidic Dynasty is All!"
"Do not cover their true condition,
To convey, not create, is the mission.
'Who influences who?', is the test,
Repentance and restoration are ‘Best’!
Judging His choices and actions,
Creates obstacles, infractions,
To live the way He intended,
And to have His blessing suspended.
Scripture is the sign to heed.
Our Substitute He decreed.
Grace through faith the plan.
He resurrected the God-Man.
Whirling Wheels in the great expanse!
The Davidic King will soon advance!
His Wheelwork is not uncertain,
Make ready for His final curtain!